#just something to remember if you’re white and ever feel like arguing with someone that is a poc

[sleepyhutcherson]

wish i wasn’t so tired

on your way back home an argument between you and mike gets heavy when the words “this isn’t love, is it?” slips from one of you.

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

contains: argument, use of y/n, miscommunication, angst, reference to marriage, not a happy ending? boygenius lyrics being referenced </3

a/n: tired of writing fluff (jk i love fluff) but i come from a miserable fandom (before i entered the jhutch one) aaand im so used to writing heavy angst. anyway, i should be working on my request not this but :p

What a perfect scenery to go with the intense argument. the rain angrily hits against the window drowning out any sound with the harshness of it. Unfortunately, not enough to drown your voice nor Mike’s, the rain mimicking the aggression and anger of your voices.

“I don’t remember,” Mike repeats, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles turned white. He was speeding, trying to get home.

“I just want to know what happened! You came home with your knuckles busted, blood everywhere and you’re suddenly unemployed, and you won’t even tell me what happened?!” You're facing him but his focus is on the road (as it should) and there’s this dull, emotionless expression on his face that makes you feel alone.

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment you think maybe he won’t say anything at all. He continues driving, his gaze fixated on the road while you stare at him feeling so stupid. You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear from this moment. Wishing you could just apologise to him, but you knew better, you had no reason to apologise to him. You were just concerned about him, you just wanted to know why his knuckles were bloody.

You blink when you realise Mike is pulling to the side of the road, putting the car in park.

“This isn’t love, is it?” Mike asks, meeting your eyes now. There’s a sadness to them that you’re familiar with, you see those sad brown eyes whenever he’s overwhelmed, stressed, tired of work, when his aunt calls, when abby ignores him after an argument but never towards you.

And those words. the question. The genuine curiosity to his tone when he asked it.

“W-What?” You stammer, hoping that maybe you misheard him. But you knew you didn’t.

“I mean, all we do is argue.” You sit up straight, turning away from Mike. You stare straight forward, you wish the road wasn’t so empty maybe you could distract yourself by looking for different licences plates.

You swallow, your throat dry suddenly. “Then what is it?” If it’s not love then what it is?

None of you have a response which only makes it worse. You loved mike, you really did, you never doubted that. There was a moment a few months ago where the two of you referenced getting married soon, Mike giddy about proposing, and you were over the moon about the idea.

And now?

Mike loves you, he’s never felt so in love with someone until he met you, never felt more loved by anyone else but you. But recently, his job has been killing him and he’s only worked at it for three days. his sleeping schedule is fucked, he isn’t ever really sleeping like most people do, not in the way that one falls asleep to get rest but in the way that he’s going back to the same dream every night looking for something—or, someone, in his case. His aunt is trying to take custody of Abby and he can’t let that happen but God he’s so fucking scared.

But he won’t say any of this to you. Not about how stressed he’s been, how tired, how scared and sad. Fuck’s sake you don’t even know that he could lose custody of Abby.

“Maybe it isn’t,” You say, not daring to turn to look at Mike. “But can…can I at least pretend that you love me?” Your voice is small, ready to break.

Mike’s brows furrow, he can hear the hurt in your voice. He hates hurting you. He can never just shut the fuck up can he? He didn’t mean to say what he did, he really didn’t. “Y/n, I… I do love you, so, so much.” Mike reaches for you, cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are watery, full of tears that are ready to spill.

“You do love me?” You ask, looking up, your eyes locked with Mike’s. He frowns at your words.

“I’ll always love you. I hate hurting you. I’m so sorry.” He says through a clenched jaw, his words a little sharp layered with a desperation to get you to believe him. He pulls you in, peppering kisses on your face. it’s not enough, he thinks, you deserve so much more than this—than him.

“Then why do you?” You whisper, bringing Mike to halt. He pulls from you, staring at you with the most hurt expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I just…just want to know you—to help you, but you’re always pushing me away.”

He looks down at his bruised knuckles with shame, falling quiet suddenly. You know about his brother, about the entire incident, and about his parents but he never told you just how much it all affected him. how it still affects him.

You place your hand over his, gently rubbing over the healing bruise. They looked nasty even after days, too vicious for Mike. He loves how you touch him, he doesn’t care that his knuckles sting at the touch because he longs for your touch, desperate for it. He becomes more needy for it while you two are arguing, he wishes he could just pull you in while you were biting at each other, wanting nothing more but to be held by you. He would allow you to continue to bite, he wouldn’t mind if you continued to sink your teeth into him; he would take the pain, endure it even…if you just held him.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say, “I wish I wasn’t so tired...” he exhales, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m tired.” It comes out weaker than he hoped, his words falling and breaking.

“oh, Mike,” you sigh, reaching up and now it’s your turn: you cup his face, your other hand reaching up to run it through his curls. “Talk to me. you know that’s what i’m here for.” You keep your tone gentle, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb.

Mike knows this. he knows that if he could talk to anyone that it would definitely be you. He just can’t. he doesn’t understand it either, doesn’t know why he can’t just open up.

He doesn’t want to talk, not really. He doesn’t want you to think he’s broken. he doesn’t want you to know how much of a mess he is, how he thinks his life is slowly falling apart right now. How he might lose custody of his little sister. How he’s looking for his brother in his dreams that are turning into nightmares. How he thinks he may be losing you, too.

“Can we just go home?” He croaks, his eyes welling up with tears. He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want you to see him cry either.

You frown. You just wanted to be there for him, you wish he would let you help him, if that’s too much for him then you’ll sit there and listen. You just wanted to know what was hurting him, who hurt him. God, you just wish you could read his mind.

You frown when he pulls away from you starting up the car. You just wanted to help. You wanted to take whatever struggles he had, most of all you wanted to know what he was struggling with. What was bothering him? If only he talked to you. But clearly he wasn’t going to open up anytime soon.

You force an “okay,” accepting your loss.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie

[wineauntharry]

I’m in need of anything that contains jealous, protective and possessive Joe!!! If you’re able to write something like this 💛

Ofc stink! I like this alot and I hope its what you were asking for let me know if you want something else! love ya bunches! (sorry its short)

Tw: possessive and jealous joe/ insinuation of smut??? Nothing to cray cray

send requests here :)

-kitt

—

Mine J.B.

“ I just wanna make sure I’m the only guy you’re taking home tonight.”

Joe whispered, slurring and wreaking of tequila. But who could blame him? He had just won the AFC North Championship, and who would I be to not let him celebrate.

“Joe don’t start.”

We had only been at this club for an hour and he was plastered. I was sitting on his lap playing with the rips in his jeans when he started to do the drunk rambling moment he would have anytime he thought I looked a little too good.

“Can’t help it baby. You just look so good. Still can’t believe you chose me.”

“All of these hoes and I still chose you huh Joe.”

He let out a soft giggle followed by a stop-fucking-playin-with-me smirk and I knew I had started to press his buttons. There’s no way Joe didn’t notice every guy's neck turn when we walked in. They weren’t looking at the tall football player, they were looking at the girl on his arm, and he knew that.

After sitting in our section and sipping on our drinks, we made our way out onto the dance floor. Joe and I did our usual dance where he stood behind me and I grinded on him to the beat of whatever was playing. Nothing too crazy. I could feel Joe start to grow behind me and as he went to whisper something to me we were interrupted.

“This your man? Or is he your bitch because I’m trynna talk to you for real. You too fine to be with a white boy like that.”

Before I could even respond to the random drunk guy leaning a little too close and talking a little too loud, Joe already had a response.

“Bro you don’t see her with me right now? This my girl, stop playing. We locked in, she not going anywhere.”

The guy just walked away, not even trying to argue anymore, but Joe wasn’t finished, I could feel him tense up as he stopped dancing. It was like he somehow sobered up and wasn’t about to just let that guy's advance slide.

Joe began to walk in the direction of the guy, taking big strides, determined. Not gonna lie, Joe was always so hot when he was angry, But somebody had to keep him out of trouble, so I followed and reached for his arm.

“Joe stop!” I tried to yell but Joe had blinders on and nothing was gonna come between him and sticking up for what’s his.

Joe got the guy's attention and started to raise his voice, catching the attention of other people in the club.

“Don’t ever try some shit like that again. Swear to God, I don’t play about what’s  mine. I promise you don’t want a problem bro. Be careful. I don’t wanna come outta character.” Joe spit out.

 “You got it big bro, chill out.” The guy replied.

I guess at this point Joe remembered where we were and could feel me tugging at his arm. He turned around and we made our way back to our section, but I couldn’t just let that go.

“Joe what the fuck was that? I know you’re fucked up right now but be serious.” I said.

“You just do something to me Y/N. Can’t help it.” He replied with a smirk.

“I know but-” I was interrupted with Joe smashing his lips on mine. He was so intoxicating. I swear I turn into putty anytime he kisses me like this. It wasn’t a regular kiss. But almost a you’re mine and I don’t care who sees kiss.

Once we separate I continue my thought “Joe you gotta keep it together, that’s what happens when you go out with someone this fine, not my fault.” I said with a little giggle following it.

Joe smiled and said “I can’t help but be possessive over you. You belong to me and nothing will ever change that, I don’t care what I have to do. I’d kill for you Y/N.”

Joe has always been the jealous type, but I am too so it balances us out, just makes us that much closer.

“I’m yours Joe. In this world, it's just us.” I reassured him and squeezed his hand to let him know I was serious.

“Let’s get out of here baby, I wanna show you how much to me.” He said.

I knew what that meant. He only said that when he really meant it, it was special to him.

I was enjoying my time out of the house but I knew I would enjoy whatever he was going to do to me at home more. I just smiled and nodded my head to let him know to lead the way. 

I love this boy so much and I know he loves me just the same. Its only a plus that Joe fucks best when he’s jealous or in love, and tonight, he was both.

—-

I hope yall like this omg I like it!!! Jealous joe makes me think some thots imma keep it real i need him so bad lorddddd. 

ALSO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY HARRY ONE SHOT!! (did yall peep the harry reference hehe)

Also there may or may not be a second part to this that’s just smut ;) let me know if yall want it because i def will not write it if there’s something else you want!

all the love- kitt

#joeburrow x reader #joe burrow #imagine #jealous #oneshot

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[hoeforalbedo]

Sex Game

Mysta Rias x fem!Reader x Ike Eveland

warning: threesome, dumbification, sex, degrade, mentions of being called a whore, penetration, blowjobs, squirting, sex toys

a/n: I planned on writing more but got lazy :) I’ll just write it as a part 2 or something when my mind decides to actually be productive.

To be honest, you don’t remember how you got into such an obscene situation. Your wrists are cuffed together and chains keep you stuck to the bed. Two are gathered around you, eyeing you as if you are their first and last meal. They have things in their hands. Toys that you admittedly have and made them aware of. It wasn’t something that you admittedly wanted to tell but it was only because of the truth of dare and Vox has such a way to bring out an answer from someone. Now these two people are experimenting on your body, treating you like a doll for their own use and pleasure. 

Mysta, doesn’t seem to be the kind to be the one to toy with a woman’s body, or a man. It seems that he’d rather be the one being played with yet there’s pure enjoyment when he holds the vibrator to your swollen clit, watching you thrash your thighs around and moaning pleas. Maybe he’s fulfilling fantasies that he wants to experience first hand. You wouldn’t know nor would you focus on such a thought when he’s been edging you for half an hour.

Ike is someone that you would least expect to join yet he is fisting your hair as he fucks your throat, forcing you to take his length as you let out tears from the corner of your eyes. “ I was quite surprise that you had such a dirty mouth. Fuck you’re taking my cock so good.” His face contorts to an expression of pleasure. His brows furrow as he groans, gripping onto your ponytail even tighter. “Fuck! Feels so good, I’m gonna cum.”

Mysta’s competative side awaken, taking Ike’s words as a challenge. A game of some sorts. Who would cum first, you or Ike, and obviously he’s not going to be the loser of this game. Not only did he push the vibrator to your clit, he inserted two fingers and curled them, making you squeal and moan around Ike’s dick. Ike only grew more aggressive, reaching for his own orgasm. You squeeze your eyes shut as Ike uses your mouth like his personal flesh light while you ride Mysta’s slender fingers. You feel your high coming ever so strong. You’ve been waiting for a release for a while and you feel as everything is going to come down all at once. You wanted to shut your thighs close, overwhelmed with sensations stimulating you yet Mysta’s thighs keeps them from shutting. 

“Come on you slutty whore, why don’t you cum for me,” He purrs as he quickens the thrusts of his fingers. Your mind feels numb. It’s almost like you can’t breathe due to Ike’s cock slamming to the back of your throat. It feels hazy and you can feel like you’re about to burst. You pull on your restraints and arch your back. If it weren’t for Ike keeping you still, you would have been thrashing but it all comes to an abrupt stop when you feel everything flow out of you at once. It felt too intense in fact, leaving you shaking, your orgasm lasting far longer than you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Your mind is blank and your seeing white and you feel wetness on your thigh.

“Fuck, she squirted all over me,” Mysta curses and those words alone made Ike reach his own high. 

“Fuck such a dirty girl for us,” Ike moans, spilling every last drop of his cum into your throat to which you obediently take and swallow. Ike pulls out his semi-harden cock and admires the mess you created. You are too fucked out to understand what’s going on.

Mysta turns off the vibrator yet your thighs still continue to twitch. “I’ll give you the honors of licking her clean but I get to fuck her pussy first,” Mysta offers as if looking for something to argue over.

Ike frowns,” Why do you get to have her first?”

“Well who made her fucking cum?” Mysta counters.

“I don’t know, maybe the toy?” Ike says. 

“I can make her cum with just my hands and my mouth,” Mysta flaunts. 

“You can try to prove that with whatever method you please as long as it’s nothing electronic or foreign. Whoever makes her cum the quickest gets to have her pussy, agreed?” Ike compromises a deal which does not pertain to you. You are merely just an object that they use to play their own silly games.

#Smut #mysta rias x reader #mysta rias #Mysta #ike eveland x reader #ike #ike eveland #mysta x reader #ike x reader #nijisanji en #luxiem x reader #ike smut #mysta smut #luxiem smut

[creep1ngdeath]

Repost of an old request! (My original post got deleted I think. I apologize)

Request: Hi! sorry if this comes off as a bother but i saw your reqs are open. so i was wondering if you could write headcannons for henry/001 x shy!male!reader? because there are literally zero fanfics of male reader with henry/001. also could it be caregiver henry? i find that very comforting:) and could the relationship be romantic?

Caretaker!001/Henry Creel x Shy!Male!Reader

Hi! I hope this was sufficient! I’ve wrote x reader fanfiction in the past but I’ve never actually done headcanons before

Ciswomen/Fem Aligned DNI, this isn’t for you!

-For the sake of age gaps you’d take 002’s place

-You don’t remember much of what your life was like being in Hawkin’s lab, you couldn’t really tell if your memories of your life outside the lab were actual memories or just dreams

-Something you knew for sure was an actual memory was the first time you met 001

You were walking down the white halls of Hawkin’s Lab with Dr. Brenner, or ‘Papa’ as he wanted you to call him. It felt weird having to call someone who wasn’t your actual father Papa, however you didn’t want to argue with the man, so instead you silently agreed to his request. Finally, after walking down several hallways that all looked the same you ended up in a room filled with toys and mind games, it had a distinct rainbow painted all around the room. “The Rainbow Room” as Papa called it. In the middle you could see a boy, two years older than you at most, sitting down at a table with crayons. Papa cleared his throat which caught the other boy’s attention. The boy placed his crayon back down on the table then got up and stood in front of Papa.

“001, this is 002, 002, this is 001,” he introduced.

You stood there awkwardly, hoping that 001 would say something first. 001 looked you up and down, he seemed to be judging you. “Hi,” he said eventually. “Hi…” you said in a hushed voice. “I’m 001, I’m glad you’re here, it gets lonely being the only kid here,” he smiled a little bit which made you feel a bit more at ease. “You boys get along, okay? I need to leave so I can finish some things up.” The older man explained. “Yes, Papa” you and 001 said in unison. The two younger boys watched as Papa left the room, leaving you two in silence. “Do you want to see what I’m drawing?” 001 asked. “Uh, sure,” you replied. The boy rushed over to go grab the sheet of paper. He held it up proudly, “It’s a spider!” He said excitedly. You smiled slightly, maybe being here with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-As years passed you and 001 bonded more over time, however as time passed more children were brought into the lab which scared you a bit, it was louder, more chaotic, and it wasn’t just you and 001 anymore

-Brenner knew how dangerous 001 could be with his powers and it scared him. As soon as more children started coming into the lab he worked quickly to nullify 001’s powers. Soon after that he became an orderly as Brenner still needed 001 around

-Brenner knew how anxious and shy you could get around other people, sometimes you refused to do lessons because you were afraid of failing in front of people, you thought all the other kids saw you as weak and cowardly, you knew you were stronger than all the other kids, however it never showed as you’d get to overwhelmed and would always find a way to slip up something

-It got to the point where Brenner assigned 001 to become your caregiver, he knew of the bond you and 001 shared ever since you two were young. He was the only one you were truly comfortable around in the lab

-You’d do lessons with him instead of another adult, or if you were with another adult he’d always be in the room with you

-He’d reassure you that you could do the task and rub back or even hold your hand when you were feeling down or anxious

-After behind assigned your caregiver and spending almost the whole day together, it didn’t take too long for the two of you to develop feelings together

-You wanted to push him away because you knew you weren’t allowed to be with him since you’re in the lab and especially because you’re both boys

-001, or Henry as he finally told you his real name one day while sitting in your room knew that something was wrong. It was quite obvious that you were distancing yourself from him

-He’d try to ask you what’s wrong but you’d just push him away, you honestly felt really bad and it broke Henry’s heart, being pushed away from the only one he loves

-One day Henry knocked on your door, he wanted to know what was going on because he wanted to help you. It hurt him seeing you hurt. That day you ended up admitting your feelings for him, expecting to get rejected, or yelled at

-Instead he admitted that he had feelings for you and asked if you wanted to be his boyfriend

-Let’s be honest, he’d probably be pretty soft for his boyfriend (you saw how he was with 11)

-Lots of cuddles at the end of the day. Spooning is probably his favorite, big spoon or little it doesn’t matter. He loves being held in your arms since he’s probably touch starved but he also loves holding onto you, it comforts him knowing you’re safe in his arms. He also likes it when you fall asleep in his chest, he’d play with your hair or trace shapes on you back as you fall asleep

-He’d fall asleep in your room while cuddling, he always comes to your room in the middle on the night to cuddle and sleep then wakes up early in the morning to sneak out before any guards catch him (yes I’m aware of the cameras)

-He’d never want you to fall asleep in his room because he doesn’t want to risk you getting caught while sneaking out in the morning, he’d rather face the consequences himself

-If you did fall asleep in his room he’d carry you back to your own room and explain to everyone who sees him about how you got really tired while using your powers a lot that day

-He’d probably randomly drag you into a closet to make out then apologize for it after

-“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait till the end of the day to kiss you, it’s not easy having my boyfriend with me 24/7 but I’m unable to give him the love he deserves,” he’d say

-You’d chuckle and pull him into another kiss before the two of you sneak out of the closet while no one is looking

-If Brenner ever found out about your relationship, he’d probably just let it happen fearing what Henry would do if he banned him from seeing you

#stranger things x male reader #001 x male reader #henry creel x male reader #x male reader

[fangirl-criminalminds-garvez]

Penelope felt her jaw drop. “You’re trying to tell me that Alvez has been in love with me for seven years?!” She shrieked. “But he was with Lisa for part of that…” Penelope trailed off. 

Tara nodded her head. “You can date someone and be in love with a different person at the same time.” Tara had just finished telling Penelope that Luke  had stayed in love with her since he had essentially started at the BAU. 

I don't think that passenger seat

Has ever looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Penelope scanned through her memories. Nothing obvious jumped out at her. She remembered when Luke brought her along when he was chasing down the car hacker, Jonathan Rhodes. She had enjoyed being involved with that case. She giggled when she remembered how she had shrieked “I’m precious cargo!” at Luke when he said she was going with him. Instead, she had been corralled into the SUV’s  passenger seat. She also remembered Luke going out of his way to help her off the curb in her heels. 

He'll never fall in love

He swears, as he runs his fingers through his hair

I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong

And I don't think it ever crossed his mind

He tells a joke, I fake a smile

But I know all his favorite songs

She then remembered the night at Spencer’s apartment when Luke had broken the news that he and Lisa had split up. He had said something in passing that he’d never fall in love ever again. Apparently that didn’t include her, if what Tara told her was true.  She then remembered all of the times after she left the BAU, when she’d invited Luke over for movies and talking. A few times they’d moved on to talking about their favorite music. She may or may not have made a playlist with all of the songs he’d mentioned to her. She listened to it whenever she went to work as well as on her way home.

And I could tell you

His favorite color's green

He loves to argue

Born on the seventeenth

His sister's beautiful

He has his father's eyes

And if you ask me if I love him

I'd lie

Luke was a stereotypical Aries -  He was argumentative. He got enjoyment out of arguing with Penelope and playing “Devil’s Advocate” for the worst examples of things. She remembered when he invited her home for Christmas one year and introduced her to his family. She was pretty sure they were all talking about them in Spanish, wondering if they were together or not. Luke had blushed bright red at their conversation and told them in English that they were just friends. And she’d believed that at the time. She’d noticed that Luke and his father shared the same eyes; they were like pools of molten chocolate, but when the sun hit them they had flecks of gold in them.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn't a light go on?

Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long?

A week later, Luke invited the team over to his place for a post-case drink. Penelope caught him looking around the room, but he gave no indication of “being in love” with her. But when he caught her eye, she looked down and blushed. Tara noticed and elbowed JJ.

              "I think she's finally figured out how she feels about Luke" Tara grinned

             "Finally!" The blonde giggled.

He sees everything in black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don't let nobody see me wishin' he was mine

Penelope remembered when Phil was killed. Luke had put on a front and didn’t show any emotion. But after the funeral, she’d seen him crying. She walked up to him and offered to be his shoulder to cry on, if he’d ever need it. He’d smiled sadly at her. And Penelope felt her stomach drop. That was the moment she realized she loved him.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say

I'm holding every breath for you

The day after Luke’s get together, Tara and JJ stepped into Garcia’s office. 

“What can I do for you ladies?” Penelope asked. 

“We saw you blushing at Luke’s house yesterday.” JJ teased.

“What are you talking about?” Penelope asked

“Oh come on, Pen,” Tara said.  “You know you love Luke.” Penelope blushed bright red.

“No I don’t.” Penelope responded. Tara and JJ shared a knowing look. Penelope caught that and rolled her eyes while she prepped the case files for the day. 

He'd never tell you, but he can play guitar

I think he can see through everything but my heart

First thought when I wake up is

My God, he's beautiful

So I put on my make-up and pray for a miracle

Penelope remembered when Luke brought his guitar over to her apartment. He’d softly played a bunch of his favorite songs for her. She hadn’t even known he could play. 

“It can be our little secret” Luke had told her when she’d expressed her surprise. 

Back in the present, Penelope knew she was in love with Luke Alvez. But nobody’d have to know. If anybody asked, she’d lie.

#Garvez #Luke Alvez #Penelope Garcia

[lokiinmediasideblog]

Hi my love, I saw your reblog on my post about liking Loki and about neurodivergence and being LGBTQ. I was going to reblog and reply but I didn’t want to overwhelm you and share your experience with my followers without asking first!

I have to say I’m both happy and sad you identified with it, happy because of course it’s wonderful to hear that I wasn’t the only person who had this experience who also likes Loki, and I’m sad because we shouldn’t have had these experiences in the first place.

I thought you were really brave sharing your own experience with me especially with how cautious you are, wanting to protect yourself from more ridicule is completely understandable yet you still tried to reach out to me on my post publicly which shows huge strength, you have my instant respect.

You made a wonderful addition to my post which was that not only are we bullied for liking the “wrong” people but we are also bullied for not liking the “right” people either, I distinctly remember being given shit for not finding most men attractive, we can’t win even if we try to mind our own business! You hit the nail on the head here!

I also loved how you compared Loki’s frost giant heritage to the queer and neurodiverse experience, I couldn’t quite pinpoint how exactly I related to it before (I think I was taking it too literally) but it’s clear to me now it’s because people around him treat him poorly because he is different, just like how we are.

I’m glad you’re doing better, lots of LGBTQ folk come into their own when they moved out. My closest friends are other LGBTQ and Neurodiverse folk which can make cishet/neurotypicals feel a bit slighted but there is just an added safety with my fellow marginalised friends that my more privileged friends just won’t understand. I imagine it’s a similar reason as to why we flock to Loki, he would understand and make us feel safe.

My DMs are always open to you, you have an ally and fellow Loki fan here!

Thank you! That is appreciated. I often see the Frost Giant heritage conflated with interracial adoption, but it is NOT a good analogy for that given that it's a different species and the Loki's appearance being altered with magic most of the time (And he is played by a white actor). Interracial adoption is not something you can hide.

On the other hand, I often see neurodivergence being represented through aliens or going to a different planet, which is essentially Loki's situation. Changelings are also famously inspired by neurodivergence (also Loki, technically). I also find myself gravitating to characters that are nonhuman in appearance because I relate to them and their misunderstanding of social cues. If there's an alien in a show, he's probably my favorite. Loki's probably the most human-looking characters I have ever liked tbh.

While Loki is not explicitly neurodivergent in cannon, he can definitely be argued to be coded as such. He's only tolerated by Thor's friends due to his relationship with Thor and because he is sometimes useful. People around him are quick to mock him. And the constant comparison to a sibling more adept at socializing than you are while you get labelled difficult and off-putting by pretty much everyone in your life...

And the ND-coding is there in all his appearances despite the inconsistency of the MCU Thor franchise, even the divisive Loki series. He also probably had different sensory needs growing up (e.g. maybe different temperature requirements and Marvel lies if he didn't lol). And he is cannonly queer (genderfluid and bisexual in comics and mythology, and bisexual in the MCU).

I feel like it's unfair to vilify deception and prop up "honor" because deception is often a survival mechanism. Especially when you belong to an oppressed group. Hearing horrible things about people like you from someone that claims to love you is the "queer in an un-supportive household" experience.

#mcu loki #queerphobia #neurodivergence #mcu!Loki

[hellyeahheroes]

20 Writing Things I Wish I Knew 20 Years Ago

It’s my birthday. At 32 I feel old. I am still full of things I wish I learned earlier, when I started trying to become a writer. A lot of regrets for time wasted and mistakes made. So here is the 20 basic things I wish I knew 20 years ago. Maybe some of it will help someone else save off some time on their own path. If not, maybe you all will have a good laugh.

1. All Advice is Subjective

You will notice a lot of the points on this list are mutually contradictionary or make you go “this is just like an exception to point X”. This is by the design. All advice and all thoughts on writing you will ever read, this list included, is what is working for the person who wrote it, within the framework of their personal perspective and preferences. It may not necessairly work for you. Moreover, I am a person who often goes “but what about...?” when being told something only works in a specific way. There is an exception to every rule that is often a different rule  for different purpose. I would even say that every contradictory pair or rules exists on a sliding scale and it is your decision towards which you lean more or whenever you disregard one enteirly in favor of the other. Cherry pick what works for you, disregard the rest, if you find everything I say trash but walk out of this post picking even a single thing you find worth remembering, my time writing it was not wasted.

2. Rules Are Made to Be Broken

One of ironclad rules is that you can never make your hero too strong. That if they can just rollstomp over every opponnent then the tension of the story is enteirly gone and no one will care. We can look at several titles that didn’t listen to it and never gained any fame, now being doomed to obscurity forever, like Hellsing, Overlord or One-Punch Man. Wait, they’re all popular? And most popular superhero of all time is Batman, despite being at this point a giant meme about how he always wins?

(sidenote: don’t come at me with some crap how Batman struggles or you can believe he is in actual danger, it may be just me but I never could beleive he will be anything, but midly inconvenienced at best, since he unbroke his back in the 90′s. Not even when he was laser-point nuked in the face by cosmic god of fascism, from which he walked out perfectly fine btw)

For every rule you will read, there is a perfectly good way, several even, to disregard or break it enteirly. Honestly, you can do whatever you want, as long as you know what you’re doing. As a matter of fact, you should question every rule, even on this list. As I have said before,  they often are made by and for people with specific outlook in life, that reflect on their writing.

Just so you don’t think this is baseless rambling, even the pros are questioning the validity of supposedly fundamental rules all the time. I’ll demonstrate this on a big one: Viet Thanh Nguyen has argued in 2017 that the “show don’t tell” rule, which so many take as gospel, is a rule invented for white people born in country they publish and pretty much useless for POC and immigrant writers, who may often need to describe emotions and experiences impossible to show. Eric Bennet points out the rule was, not even joking, part of CIA’s Cold War propaganda effort. Cecilia Tan on the pages of Uncanny Magazine #18 opens her own dissection of the rule with “ Yes, the dreaded “infodump” is seen as a hallmark of bad writing, but it’s faulty logic to conclude that therefore all infodumps are bad. Try telling that to Neal Stephenson the next time he wants to exposit about Sumerian”.

3. You Cannot Break What You Do Not Know

Fuck ‘em rules, got it? However, you cannot accomplish it without actually knowing the rule, what it does and why people adhere to it. The cases of ignorant gracefully stumbling into a great subversion or a fresh take on a cliche are few and far in between. It’s not that they do not happen. but the chances of you managing to pull it off are too slim to attempt it deliberatelly. If you want to break the rule you first need to understand how it works and where are it’s weak points and most importantly, what happens when you do break it.

4. You Can Have Too Much Of A Good Thing

This really applies to anything I will advise, but since we mentioned breaking the rules and subversion, it comes with perfect illustration. Why did Game of Thrones finale suck so much? In my belief it is because the show was designed on the principle of subverting, deconstructing and defying as many tropes of classic fantasy, chilvaric legends and fairy tales as possible. And that did carry it on for a very long time by the sheer novelty. Then came a moment they had to actually set up the end and creators found themselves in a pickle. Because there was no way to set up a satisfying ending that did not, in one way of another, play into the same tropes and genre conventions they spent so much time tearing down. So they ended with narratively unsatisfying clusterfuck that seems more concerned with defying expectations than actually giving a proper conclusion. Staying true to what got the series popular in the first place and making something that feels narratively complete at the same time turned out to be impossible.

5. Have Something To Say

Everything you write is saying something. Everything that has a story is going to have message, themes and politics. Every book, every comic, every game. People who rush at you with examples trying to prove how such claim is wrong either do not see or willfully deny what lies at the very core of that example. That or said an exception proving the rule. Demanding someone proves to you politics of Tetris only shows that you need to be some abstract nonsense, divorced from any semblance of the narrative to not have politics in it.

You either will say something intentionally through your story and shape it to fit what you are trying to say, or you will do unintentionally. And believe me, people are gonna take different things from your creation anyway, last thing you need is to let something from your messy subconciousness slip through.

Be passionate about the story you tell, be passionate about its message. Speak of things you love, speak of your fears, speak of what angers you. Writer cannot be detached from the world, from life or from people. You’re not a dispassionate, objective observer removed from reality. I get you may be shy, or feel your own experiences aren’t worth talking about. Or maybe the memories are still too painful for you to open that particular wound. That’s okay. But I’m sure you are passionate about something. Even if your work is deriverative in some way. I touched upon it in my previous list. Even if you’re passionate about things like fictional characters or stories, there is likely a deeper meaning to them, that resonates with you. Tap into it.

6. Shut Up

Stories have different levels of clarity. In some it is obvious what is happenning, others intentionally muddle the waters to confuse the audience. Readers should put down your work having clear picture of everything you wanted to make clear. At the same time, they should be full of question and uncertan about things you purposefully left ambigious and unexplained. The former requires no explanations from the author outside the work itself. The latter should never be explained that way. If you find yourself having to go on the record and explain or clarify things you didn’t intend to left out unexplained, you fucked up.

7. Take Care of Your Needs

Don’t write when you’re hungry. Don’t write when you’re sleep deprived. Don’t write when you’re horny. In each of these cases the quality of your work is going to suffer. Even smut needs you to look at a sex scene with a rational, un-horny eye once in a while. Eat a hot dog, take a nap, masturbate. Take care of your needs, then go back to writing. If you know a scene can cause you to crave one of your needs, go take care of that need in advance and THEN write it. Similiarly if you know the writing you’re about to do may hit one of your triggers, prepare the tools of emotional support of your choice at hand.

DISCLAIMER: I have never done drugs aside coffee, not even a smoke. I have no fucking idea how this advice may interact with addictions so please do NOT take it as encouraging you to do that kind of things.

8. Characters Matter More Than The Plot

Plot does not matter as much as people like to think. At the end of day it is merely a framework within which the characters operate and interact. You can craft the most complex, intricate plot ever created. But if it unfolds for a cast of dull cardboard cutouts that have less agency than a pawn on a chessboard and seem more concerned with saying lines that will get them quoted on Tvtropes than experiencing actual human emotions, nobody's gonna give a shit. Great plot will not save the story with bad characters, but the opposite is very much true - if you have great, multi-dimensional characters and respect their choices and agency, people may stick with you even if the base plot is a convoluded storm of cliches and a mess of increasingly nonsensical events. As long as it feels that it is convoluded storm of cliches and a mess of increasingly nonsensical event that the characters made by their own choices and actions.

In RPGs an equivalent of this advice would be “situations, not stories”: Don’t design a story of what is going to happen on a session and then railroad the players to experience it. Create a situation, have a plan how it would develop if the player characters never got involved, then let them wreck it with their own choices and decisions. I’m not sure it is applicable to writing, however. At the end of the day YOU control ALL of the characters. They aren’t real and do not make their own decisions, you do it for them. Ultimatelly all chocies they make are serving to tell the story you want to tell. However if you can convince the readers of the opposite, make them believe that characters make choices in accordance with their personalities, instead of making choices you WANT them to make, that you respect their agency first and foremost...well, that’s what we call a “character-driven story”.

9. Plot and Theme Are Intertwined

Similiar to previous point, themes you are exploring in your story and the message you are telling won’t save it if the events makes no sense. The plot should complete and explore the theme. That means plotting the events that show the protagonist issues related to the theme and force him to take a stance. While showing and exploring opposing viewpoints to intended message can help with that, overall the main character should journey to learn the lesson you want the audience take from this work.  Or, if they have a negative arc, they should learn all the wrong lessons so that the audience can see their downfall as a cautionary tale. If your theme is that murder is wrong but the plot rewards the protagonist for killing until he makes a sudden turn in the finale, suddenly feeling bad for killing a girl he fancied, but not about slaughtering his way through dozens of human beings through the whole story, it will feel jarring. Unless the real message was that the protagonist is a huge asshole, that is.

10. Aesthetic Is Narrative

The stylistic choices, be it in art, set/costumes or description, are part of your narrative and inform the reader what kind of a story it is. Say a character decides to join the good guys and gets a costume change. The moment they step out of changing room will send a different message if that costume is an army uniform, a padded biker suit with red scarf floating on the wind or a black, sleevless leather jacket with a dojo symbol on the back. First one evokes an image of a rebel being brought into the fold and tempered by military discipline, second implies the character’s newfound desire to protect the innocent by bringing to mind Kamen Rider and Tokusatsu heroes, and the last suggests a “reformed, but not tamed” wildcard deciding to fight for the school he respects.

This applies to what the character is wearing but also their overall design, body language, as well as the scenery. Imagine Jenny the Thief, dressed in plain clothes, scuffling nervously through the alley, keeping to the shadows cast by tall castle walls and towers, that the narrator compared to claws of a monster trying to grab sun from the sky. It evokes a much different image that the same Jenny dressed in colorful dress with many acessories, striding confidently, wishing one of palace’s fantastic towers would be casting a shadow on this back alley, so that she doesn’t need to suffer Sun’s full attention.

If you’re working in a medium that utilizes music, this appleis as well. For evidence, listen to 3 different entrance themes of professional wrestler the Undertaker - Rest In Peace, Keep Rollin and Memory Remains - and think about how they evoke a vastly different character.

This is also why an overt sexualization of women is often so cringe-worthy. It’s not that this is always bad (though I despise it on many levels), but it has its place and time. If a vilainess shows up in a skintight latex suit with proportions and body language of a stereotypical dominatrix femme-fatale, you better be writing smut or at least a shamelessly horny pulp, not a hard science story about troubles of long-term space travel.

Important exception, of course, is a deliberate subversion. A character whose looks are supposed to evoke certain set of expectations, only for their personality to be near total opposite, when used properly can make us question the reader’s assumptions and biases. For example, my favorite DC superhero is Cassandra Cain, whose costume as Batgirl evokes an image of typical dark and gritty 90′s antihero, and who actually has stronger moral code against killing than even Batman. Be warned, however, that this subversion must be done deliberatelly and carefully, othertwise it will just become jarring.

11. Google Every Word You Make Up

Stole this one from this very website but it’s worth repeating. If you make up a term, google if it doesn’t mean something unfortunate in some language. I’m just going to point out how at some point Magic the Gathering made a character named Sram and I will never stop laughing at them for that, because in my native tounge “sram” is a very vulgar way of saying “I’m taking a dump”.

12. "Convincing” not “Realistic”

Nobody wants a realistic story. We do not care what would be a realistic outcome of doing X in real life. What people want is to be convinced this could happen. We want to believe this could happen. We can take a lot of a story, even something so over the top fantastical like Gurren Lagann or Devil May Cry. But we need some point of reference for characters actions. Dragons, giant robots, eyes that are portals to punch dimension? We can buy that easily with some bit of handwaving like “divine will” or “the X gene” or “Minkovsky Particles”. What is really important is to convince us the characters are making decisions rational humans would. Not just the characters, but the world itself. We need internal consistency to your world’s rules and to the sociopolitical actions taken by nations and societies of it.

This is why we won’t usually accept in-universe excuses for something we know is a stupid decision. Your heroine can wear an “armor” that is basically just a metal bra because “she cast a spell of protection that defends her as much as a full plate would”? Yeah, that is still going to break my suspension of disbelief. In theory there is no threat to nurses, lawyers or teachers at work. But no woman who wants to be taken seriously in any of these jobs would come to work in a bikini, would she?

I will admit, what one finds convincing can vary from a person to person and may even change within the same person overtime, as their experiences pile up and perspective is refined. You might have seen it in some recent sentiments, like “When I was a kid I found Wheel of Time unrealistic because it was so hard for the heroes to unite the nations of the world against evil. After last few years, I find it unrealistic because they DID manage to unite everyone at all”.

13. Pick Characters Who Contrast Each Other...On Equal Footing

There is a lot of advice on why it is important to make characters who are great foils to one another, especially the protagonist and the antagonist. But what people forget often is that it is important to give them enough ground to stand on equal footing. Enough narrative weight it doesn’t feel one orbits another, existing only to enrich the latter’s story. If in Iron Man II James Rhodes, Justin Hammer or Whiplash asked “ Big man in a suit of armor. Under that what are you?” and Tony Stark just replied “ Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” , we would be quick to dismiss their question. This is because each of those characters, while contrasting Tony in different ways, is not as well-developed as him or given enough narrative weight to stand on his own, they are merely there to help tell his story. When this exchange occured in the Avengers, however, it became one of most memorable moments. Because the man asking was Steve Rogers, a character of equal narrative importance as Tony.

This is why so many people love good villains and rivals. Because they are sometimes the only people getting as much narrative pull as the hero. And yes, that is a dig at the Whiplash in Iron Man II not being well-written.

14. Make Sure Your Character Fits The Story

If Otello and Hamlet switched plays, neither would happen. Quick to action Ottelo would have Cluadius’ head on a pike before his father’s ghosts is done speaking. Always doubtful Hamlet would question Iago’s words enough to realize he is being played. Shakespeare choose to tell the story with each character because their flaws were what lead them to a tragic end in this specific situation.

Think carefully if your hero actually works for a story you’re trying to tell with them. Don’t bend over backwards to make it about a character you think will be more marketable for target audience. People can tell when you’re doing that and it always rings false to the whole story. And if you have to contrive reasons why you’re telling a story about your protagonist in the first place, the chances are that the story would benefit from cutting them out. Usually when that happens, there is someone in your supporting cast who fits the role of main character much better. For example, in the comic book version of the Boys Billy Butcher and Wee Hugie are incredibly boring choices for the protagonist, as each’s motivation to oppose evil corproation, and superheroes it makes, boils down to “they killed my woman”. Compare it with Mother’s Milk, whose entire life has been ruined by the same corporation and who lost his entire family due to that corporation’s actions, and he makes much more compelling character.

15. Not Every Trope Fits Every Story

Let us take previous point a step further. Each genre has its own conventions that you need to respect to a degree at least. There are storytelling tools that may work in one type of story but not in another. Casually killing characters for shock value may work wonders in a gripping, dark fantasy war story like Glen Cook’s Soldiers Live. But comic books like Ultimatum or Avengers Arena have shown that it does not translate well into a shared universe of uplifting superhero narratives. Readers of Cook come in with an unspoken understanding that he is writing a brutal world, where death is quick and merciless and does not care who you are. His heroes are, at the end of the day, just humans. Slaughtering superheroes right and left just makes the reader ask what exactly is different now from all those times when they saved the day with a smile. Why are they sudenly dying when other heroes are fine? Why is this edgy bad guy with tech able to kill someone who survived one-on-one with an actual god? And if you cannot provide a convincing answer, the audience will feel like you’re just flipping them a bird for liking characters you don’t care for.

16. Not Every Genre Fits Every Story

Taking the last two points even a step further, you need to make sure you are telling your story in a genre, or even a medium, best suited for it. Infamous creepypasta Sonic.exe can only work if you don’t think about what is happenning for more than five seconds. Othertwise you realize that the narrator is for some unexplained reason unable to tell fiction from reality and freaking over characters dying in a hacked copy of Sonic the Hedgehog game more than over death of his friend...and then playing anyway. A very common opinion, that I share, is that the story would be much better off if it ditched human narrator and presented itself as a dark fic, a genre always open for another “beloved character suddenly goes serial killer on the cast” story.

In more broader sense, there are things a specific medium does better from others. If your story relies on heavy introspection, discussions of complicated scientific concepts and thick worldbuilding, chances are it will work best as a novel, than a comic book. If you want to have a lot of martial art battles, any visual medium is likely going to convey it better than written prose. But even then, you need to know different forms of that medium to match your specifics. Western comics have length of 20 to 36 pages per issue, depending whenever its American or European standard. The audience excepts to get, in one such issue, roughly balanced mix of verious elements, which is why most action scenes are going to be swift, maybe only few pages. Meanwhile manga is used to hyperfocusing on a specific element of story at the time. It is also more decompressed, with longer chapters of 30+ pages on average. Meaning it fits more a drawn-out battle full of twists and turns over the course of multiple chapters. If your want to make an action-packed show or a film, live-action budget can much easier take in something closer to real life, with little to no powers, realying on choerography and actual martial arts. Meanwhile, in animation it is going to be as expensive to make two people fight one another regardless if they’re throwing around knives or laser beams. Of course if you overcomplicate on the powers, you can reach a point where it would be better off as a prose after all, which is why it is important to know what kind of story you want to tell in the first place.

17. Set Up Some Lines

Once in a while you come across a work that does something that is considered bad in this genre, medium or just this kind of story. And yet gets away with it, at least for you, if not for everyone. Maybe it does a particular trope you usually dislike but manages to pull it out just right to not bother you. Maybe they did something that made your most hated type of character at least bearable? These are worth studying as to how do they accomplish this, obviously. But it is also useful to note them as a line in the sand, so to speak. They clearly hit a sweet spot before the overdone thing becomes actually overdone. If you ever find yourself dealing with this kind of topic in your own writing, you can reffer to the line.

For example, let’s say that you’re wondering whenever to make a superpowered battle series a comic, animation or a prose. You may look at something like JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, a franchise that has been for decades getting away with having very complex abilities and characters explaining and/or analyzing them in great detail, despite it being something that should be avoided in a visual medium. You can set up a “JoJo Line” by asking yourself - would an average character of my story need more time/page space to explain their powers than an average one in JoJo?”. If answer is yes, you should probably make this a novel.

18. What You Do Not Show (Doesn’t) Matter

If you relegate certain action or things done by a specific character to happening “off-screen” and merely be something we see a result of, or are told about, you send a direct message this thing or character doesn’t matter. If you want to make sure readers consider a character competent at something, you need to show them being competent at it. Think of every time you have seen a scene where hero bursts to the room to save a woman from a villain, only to find her fine and the baddie tied up. How many of them actually established the woman in question as a badass in her own right? I bet you it were only those where we actually have seen her fight or outright overcome the villain, not the ones where it all happenned off-screen. Adventure Time brilliantly parodied how useless this type of scene is, by showing us how an incompetent villain manages to accidentially tie himself up, in front of a very confused girl, and heroes severly misread the situation.

What I’m trying to say here is that things you choose to not show matter....because they don’t matter. Your chocie what to ommit enforces an idea what the story is about and that the part you skipped is outside of that scope. It informs the focus of your narrative and the idea of what is relevant or irrelevant. So if you want a character to be part of main cast, be wary of pushing too much of their accomplishments or arc to happen off-screen. In case of accomplishments you can skip them if you already showed character good at the thing. If you have established the hero as badass by showing them beat a big, strong enemy, you can probably skip them fighting some losers as we know what outcome will be. You can then only show hero’s fights if there is an actual risk the character losing, to use what you were previously not showing to enchance the tension. But if you ever show the character losing and all their victories are from off-screen fights, it just shows they’re a fake who cannot win against a real opponnent, and their reputation as strong is as good as an informed ability. After all, if we never see them win, how do we know their “victories” aren’t just all from enemies slipping on a banana peel?

19. Overt Complexity is Self-Congralutatory

Resist the temptation to make the villain’s plan overtly complicated. The more steps the plan needs to accomplish, the harder it is to believe when it goes off without a hitch. It is very easy to reach a point when the plan no longer makes villain look like a master manipulator, but as if they have crystal ball and can see the future, as they account for events they had no way of knowing about  

Make sure to keep your villain’s goal in mind and that the plan is actually serving accomplishing the goal and not just showing how smart the villain is. I recommend studying a movie Usual Suspects for this and realizing how the villain’s plan ends up undermining the very goal it was conceived for, just because the writer wanted to make sure we see him as a mastermind.

As with everything, remember you can have too much of a good thing. Gargoyles’ David Xanatos showed us that villains who can accomplish secondary objectives can look smart even if their main goal is thwarted. But the same writers’ Young Justice has took it to a such extreme it became a joke and sucked all tension from the story - why bother caring if we know the bad guys from the Light will win? Because they always win, even if they lose, they still win.

20. It’s Okay To Figure it Out As You Go

I bet this all feels very intimidating. So let’s me make one thing clear as my closing words. You do not need to have fully fleshed out characters before you begin plotting your story. It’s okay to not have the plot all figured out before you choose the theme of your story. Hell, it’s okay to just start writing scenes with your OC and figure plot and theme as you go. It’s okay to go without a plan or unprepared, stumble and make a note of the issue. At some point you will need to make revisions anyway, first draft is always supposed to suck. Once you finish it, you can start ironing everything out so that it fits neatly together.

Anyway, Happy Birthday to me

-Admin

#writing #writing advice

[rafor]

Chapter 45 - The Bright City - The Glitch

I opened my eyes at last. I had thought I was dead, or perhaps I still was. I found myself in an unfamiliar place, and for a moment I wondered if I had gone blind, but then I saw my own body. It was still me, unchanged. But everything else around me was white. A dazzling white that seared my eyes. It wasn’t smoke, fog, or anything like that. I felt solid ground beneath my feet. I reached down and touched it, feeling a rough texture like stones, but I couldn’t see it. I felt lost and afraid, so I shouted for help. “Hey, is anyone there?” It was a clichéd move, asking for help in a seemingly empty place. But then a dragon appeared with a familiar face. He was similar to me in color, but his wings were different. He greeted me, “Hi Raphael.” I recognized his voice and exclaimed, “Zeno? Is that really you?” He confirmed, “It’s me. Nice to see you.” I asked him, “What? Where are we?” He asked me back, “Can’t you see it?” I couldn’t, but gradually my vision was adjusting, and I began to see the road I was standing on and the buildings around me. I realized I was in a square, surrounded by other dragons, all light dragons, who looked at me with curiosity and confusion. I said to him, “Are we in a city?” He welcomed me, saying, “Welcome to the Bright City.” I asked him, “Wait, how did I get here?” He said, “Mmm, let’s see,” and conjured up a dark ring with some golden and white symbols at its edges. In the ring, I could see the arena and everyone who was still there. He continued, “There’s Fyrenthos, Akira, and Freya, and also you. I think you might have died.” I protested, “What? No, it can’t be. I was healing. I saw that. I was fine.” He pointed out, “There’s a light sword and a light dragon holding it. I can only guess, but by seeing you here, I think you might have been wounded by it.” I argued, “That light dragon just tried to kill me with it, but I remember surviving, not dying.” He asked me, “Did you get hit by it?” I admitted, “It hit me while I turned myself into black smoke using the dark element, but still, it didn’t kill me.” He explained, “Whatever happened, even while in that form, it hit you. There’s no way to survive that if you have even a trace of the dark element in you, which you do.” I kept looking at the arena. I saw Freya getting furious at them and ready to unleash her rage on both Akira and Fyrenthos as they were trying to reason with her. Fyrenthos kept apologizing, “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to kill him, I swear,” but Akira made it worse by saying, “We just did you a favor. That little bastard is now going to face the judgment of those above us. You won’t see him ever again.” She was insane. I told Zeno, “If we don’t do something, someone else is going to die soon.” He replied, “She isn’t wrong. You have already passed a judgment,” and he paused there. I asked him, “What kind of judgment?” He told me, “After you died, you were brought here, but since you haven’t fallen into the void yet, that means that you’re free from any crime that could condemn you.” I asked him, “So this is some kind of heaven?” He said, “Not really. This is just a step between eternal death and life. While you’re here, there’s still a way back to the real world.” I said eagerly , “That sounds great. How can I get back there? I can’t leave Freya alone."

He smiled and said, “I had already intended to send you back. You have a bright future ahead of you, Raphael. I’m glad you appreciate the body we share, but perhaps we could make some alterations.” I wondered, “I never said that, but is this your same body? Am I a clone then?” He clarified, “Only a replica of my physique, nothing more. You may have also resurrected a son who would bear my genetic mark, if we were to verify.” I exclaimed, “Oh man, this sounds so wrong. Did I have the right to do this?” He assured me, “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have granted you the opportunity. You have a chance to live, and I will give you another one, as long as you desire.”

I looked around as I was about to say that I was ready to leave, but I noticed a detail and inquired about it. “Why are there only light dragons here and a single dragon like me and you who are different from everyone else? Are you a shadow dragon?” He answered, “An interesting question. Indeed, I am, and usually only light dragons cross the first wall and settle here. So I can only surmise that we are an exception.” I said, “I suppose I was fortunate then. Anyway, why don’t you want to return to the world? I could offer you a place in the city if you wish. Maybe repay the debt that I owe you for giving me a way back?” He declined, “I appreciate your offer, but I have to refuse. I’m needed here, but maybe one day I’ll come for a visit. Besides that, I might adopt your appearance to avoid being slain by Solara.” I asked, “Do you know her? Also, wasn’t I the one borrowing your appearance?” He chuckled and said, “Oh yes, I know her. Well, not personally, but don’t worry about it.”

I thanked him again and said, “Well then. Shall we proceed to send me back to the sender?” He gestured towards the portal and said, “Proceed. That’s the gateway. It will take you back where you wish.” I asked, “Just like that?” He said, “If you know where to go, sure. What are you waiting for?” I said, "Oh, nothing. I was just amazed by the city. Is there any way to come back here without a dreadful event like death?” He said, “Once you master the secrets of the light element, you’ll find the way back here.” I asked with curiosity, “May I know what that secret is?” He shook his head and said, “Sorry, but that’s something you have to discover yourself. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll learn it. Good luck.”

I approached the portal, ready to leave, and said, “It doesn’t matter. I will. Thank you again for everything, Zeno.”. He said as I was entering the portal, "Oh, and one last thing. I gave you a little gift.” But his words were lost as I crossed over.

As I emerged from the portal, I felt a jolt of reality hit me. I was back in the arena, bathed in a radiant light that made me look like a celestial being. Freya spotted me and cried out, “Nox?!” She halted the raging typhoon that had trapped Fyrenthos and Akira in its vortex. I quipped, “Back from the afterlife, just for you.” Akira hurled a curse at me: “Cut it off already, you fucking lucky bastard!” Fyrenthos silenced her with a stern warning: “Maybe it’s time for you to actually shut up. You’re going to get both of us killed like this.” Freya soared into the air and zoomed towards me with incredible speed. She caught me in mid-air and exclaimed, “I thought I lost you!” I reassured her, “I’d never leave you. You can’t lose me, my dear sweetie queen.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me with all her might. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her head next to my neck. I hugged her back, feeling a surge of emotion. Akira snorted to Fyrenthos, “Why didn’t you do the same when I died too?” She replied, “You killed yourself on a suicide mission. It was different. And you didn't come back like that; he looks holy compared to you.” He had no comeback.

We descended to the ground, where a crowd of dragons had gathered around us, curious about the light that had enveloped me or the typhoon that Freya had conjured. I also spotted Solara flying towards us from afar. The guards kept the onlookers at bay and gave us some space, as we were still savoring our reunion. Akira shouted, “While you’re at it, kiss.” Fyrenthos snapped at her, “Enough. I’m going to cut your damn tongue, I swear.” We ignored them. We didn’t kiss either. Solara landed in the center of the arena, scattering everyone away as she feared we were in danger. She yelled, “Away from the Queen and the King!” We didn’t respond. The world around us seemed distant and irrelevant. We couldn’t let go of each other. Solara asked us, “Are you ok? Wait, Nox, is that you?” I replied, “It’s me, Solara. Why?” She said, “Your wings look different.” I tried to glance at them, but Freya’s head blocked my view. Freya said, “Oh, look!” She released me and spread my wings. She gasped, “No way, they look like the night sky.” I opened my other wing to get a better look. I said, “Wow, I didn’t notice. How do you think they look?” She said, “They’re beautiful! Like everything else.” Indeed, I had undergone some changes in my appearance. My marks now glowed, my wings were translucent and studded with stars, my body was more lustrous than before, and my horns were significantly larger, which was the only change I didn’t like. They were already bothersome enough. Now they were even more so.

We told everyone that there was nothing to worry about and that everything was fine. Everyone dispersed after hearing our words. Solara stayed a bit longer and asked us what had happened. Freya and I recounted our story while Fyrenthos and Akira kept a safe distance, bickering with each other but not leaving.

I persuaded Freya to spare Akira from any punishment for her actions. I harbored no resentment towards her, and I wanted to clear the air between us. So I approached her and said, “Akira, can we talk?”

She snapped, “What? No thanks.”

Fyrenthos intervened, “Akira...”

She sighed. “Ok, fine, what is it?”

I asked, “Why do you despise me so much? I knew I was your pawn. I remember everything, but you still blame me for something that was beyond my control. How can I earn your forgiveness? Maybe I could thank you for teaching me the lethal nature of a light sword?”

She scoffed, “Since when did you become so wise, King Raphael Nox?”

I said, “You’re already deflecting. Please, could you be a little more mature? You don’t want to be outsmarted by your pawn, do you?”

She paused, and I could see a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She realized something and said, “You ruined my life. Everything changed because of you, from the day you arrived to the day that you left.”

I said, “And how is that my fault? I didn’t choose to come here and disrupt everything. I didn’t see the vision that you shared with everyone except me. You made all the decisions on your own, and I have to say, thank you for doing so.”

She said, “You’re welcome then. You also did something for me,” and she glanced at Fyrenthos. He was still upset with her, but he took a deep breath and said with his remarkable patience, “We’ve grown a lot since then. We learned to trust each other, and now we’re unstoppable.”

Freya said, “We’ll see about that. If you’re up for it, after you get some rest, we could have a duel tomorrow. But with one new rule: no light swords or anything lethal. We don’t want anyone to die.”

I chuckled and said, “Oh, and thanks to you, I also got to see the light city. It’s real, you know? They call it the Bright City.”

She said, “Are you kidding me? I only had visions of it. I don’t know if it really exists.”

I said, “I assure you that I saw it with my own eyes, and it’s real. Thank you for giving me a chance to visit it.”

She looked incredulous and then said, “You’re welcome then. I’m sorry for sending you there against your will. Ehehe…” She changed her expression. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. She threw herself into Fyrenthos’s arms and whispered to him, “What’s wrong with me?!”

He said softly, “Oh, little miss, nothing is wrong with you. You just have to not let your emotions get the best of you. Come on, I’m here. Let it all out.”

She sobbed uncontrollably, and we decided that maybe it was time to return to the palace and leave the past behind.

We offered Fyrenthos and Akira a guest room in the palace for the night, but not before we invited them to dine with us. Our sons Zephyrion and Vesper also joined us at the table, where we enjoyed a lively conversation. It had been a long time since we used the royal table, which could seat more than fifty dragons and wyverns. We felt awkward occupying only four seats, and I wondered about the history of this kingdom. Did it once have a large royal family that had vanished? Was it connected to the fallen kingdom of the Wyverns?

After dinner, we suggested that they accompany us on a flight outside, as was our custom. But they politely declined, saying they were exhausted. We realized then that we were also weary and that the hour was late. We had lingered at the table longer than usual, chatting with our guests and introducing them to our sons, who bombarded them with questions about their identities and origins. We bid them good night and retired to our rooms. We had no qualms about sharing a bed with our partners. I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep, but Freya had other ideas.

She began to tell me how distraught she had been when she thought she had lost me and what horrible things she had planned to do to our guests if I hadn’t returned in time. Her words were so sadistic that I shuddered with fear. Then she switched to a sweet tone and cuddled up to me in bed. She whispered, “All this makes me wonder: should we expand our family?” I was puzzled by her question and replied, “I don’t think we can adopt our guests as family members. They probably have their own plans.” She glared at me with menacing eyes, then moved closer. Too close. She said, “I wasn’t talking about them. I was talking about us, our bloodline.” Then it dawned on me what she meant. Oh no, what had I gotten myself into!

#chapter #dragon #dragons #elements #fantasy #literature #mystery #story #poetry #adventure #the_glitch #the rise and fall of raphael

[knowstruth]

“Well, someone was out for a while.” Ethan looks up from his phone as the door opens, Morgan stepping in and dropping their keys on the table by the door. They have bags in their hands - one from that store down the road that sells a bunch of different things pretty cheap, he can tell by the outline of what’s inside that it’s probably notebooks and pens and such. That made sense, a new semester was starting soon. 

“I was hanging out with Lila.” Morgan sits for a moment to take off their shoes. Today it was their clunky black boots with a bit of a platform, the silver chain connected to the laces matching the necklaces around their neck. 

“All afternoon? What were you doing out there, snagging?” he teased.

“None of your damn business. Shitass,” they retort as they walk over to the kitchen, giving Ethan a light smack to the back of the head as they walk by. He only laughs, following to take a seat at the countertop as they open the fridge and start to put away a few groceries. They might have acted tough, but he didn’t miss the slight hint of a smile that they tried to hide. 

“I got you a milkshake.” They set one of the bags down on the counter, taking out two cups and two straws. “And don’t give me any of that ‘special player diet’ bullshit. You’re heading to a place with no In-N-Out milkshakes soon, you’ve gotta get them in while you can.”

Well, there’s no arguing with that. “Mvto.” Ethan smiles, punching the straw through the lid of his cup. For a moment he pauses, staring down at the cup, twisting the straw back and forth. “Hey Morgan?”

“Yeah?” They look up from their current task, standing up a bit straighter - they knew the look on his face, that posture. 

“...Do you think I’m making the right choice?” 

“Do you want to go?”

He shifts in his seat. “Well, yeah…”

“Then yes.” Their hands come to rest on the countertop between them. “This is gonna be huge for you. You’re getting to live out your dreams. Sure, you’re gonna miss us, and we’re gonna miss you, and that’s gonna suck. But you get to go see the fucking world and play soccer in Europe. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. You’ve been waiting for this. And you’re gonna kill it. So go over there and show those fuckin’ white boys how it’s done.” 

A lopsided smile crosses his face. Him? Showing the type of people who played in the Premier League how it’s done? “I don’t know if I’m gonna have anything to teach people like Tartt or Kent-”

“Have any of them ever played on a field with you? No.” Morgan’s gaze is steady and sure. “They’re all gonna learn something because nobody plays exactly like you play. Nobody is the same. You’ve gotta adapt to the team you have, and none of them have had you. Everyone has something to learn from each other.”

There’s a warmth in his chest, that feeling akin to love and contentment. Another thing he would miss. “You sound like mom.”

“Fuck off,” Morgan scoffs, but they don’t wipe the slight smile from their face. “Now c’mon, help me put these away.” 

Ethan walks over, kneeling next to the bag on the floor to take out some of the groceries. For a moment, he looks up. “Morg?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

This time they give a full, warm smile, with no attempt to brush it aside or make a cool comment. A little show of love for their brother. “‘Course. I love you, dumbass.”

“Love you too, shithead.” He grins, nose scrunching as Morgan reaches down and ruffles his hair. “Hey!” 

They just laugh, closing the refrigerator. “Oh, calm down.” Picking up their other bag, they take a step down the hall. “You got those? I’m gonna set my stuff down and get cleaned up.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He shrugs - there isn’t much left to put away anyways, mostly just a few things for the pantry. “Remember, we’ve also gotta decide what to watch for movie night.”

"I'll think about it," Morgan calls over their shoulder, disappearing behind their bedroom door.

#this has been bouncing around in my head for a while now and! i finally finished it #ethan. drabble. #ethan. rel ; morgan.

[survey--s]

484.

How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had in 2014? I can barely remember 2014 lol. I think I was with Chris that year so probably just the one, but that’s nearly a decade ago ha.

Can you walk in heels? Yeah, but it kills my back after a while.

How often do you say ‘lol’ in a computer or text conversation? Quite often, but normally just to make things seem more light-hearted.

What would you tell to your eighth grade self? It’s not as big a deal as you think it is.

Can you curse around your parents? Around them yes, but I’d never swear at them.

What does your mom say about the pictures on your Tumblr? I don’t think my mum has even heard of Tumblr lol, but there’s nothing remotely offensive about any of the photos on here.

What was the last thing you and your parents argued about? I honestly don’t remember, it’s been years.

Are you happy with where you live? I love the area but if I had the choice I’d move to a house that didn’t need a whole load of work doing to it lol.

Do you feel your life is at its best? It’s pretty great.

Do you regret anything about your past? No.

Do people ever mistake you for being a different race? Haha no, that’s never going to happen. I’m white as they come.

Would you tattoo someone’s name on your body? No.

What do you worry about the most? Getting an illness like dementia or Alzheimers.

Do you believe “Once a cheater, always a cheater?” Hmm, no, not necessarily BUT I wouldn’t be able to trust a cheater again.

Have you ever let someone be your everything? Yeah and it was a huge mistake - caused a lot of problems. I don’t regret it as it was a big learning experience but I’d never do it again.

Do you bite your nails? Only if I have a hangnail or something.

Think back to the last person you kissed. How many times have you cried in their arms? I have no idea, maybe somewhere between 5-10.

Do you hate the last person you kissed? No.

What are some things you do when you’re mad? Have a bath, take a nap, take the dog for a walk, watch my favourite TV shows.

When was the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face? Hmm, not sure. 

How do you feel about your hair right now? It’s fine. It’s just tied up in a messy bun at the moment.

If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be? I’m happy enough being at home but assuming money wasn’t an issue, a nice hot tropical beach somewhere lol. I’m sick of cold, wind, rain and mud.

Whose hoodie did you wear last? Mine.

Have you ever listened to music you hated just to fit in? Not to fit in, but I’ve listened to stuff I hated just because I knew the other person liked it.

What’s an interesting fact about you that not many people know? I won a cute toddler competition when I was three.

What do you want to do after high school? I went to university, graduated, worked retail for a decade and then left to start my own business.

Do you do anything embarrassing when no one is home? Nothing I wouldn’t know when other people were home, lol.

If you had the chance to move to a completely different state/country, would you? Maybe, depending on the country and whether I’d be able to take my animals and find work, etc.

How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? I don’t remember ever actually believing in Santa. 

What are the things you’ve learned over the past year? I’m more capable than I thought and that, generally, hard work pays off, even if it doesn’t always feel as though it will.

Do you have a friend you can tell stuff to and you’re sure they won’t tell? Yes.

Name something you dislike about the day you’re having? Mike had an argument with his dad this morning and is taking his pissed off mood out on everyone else lol. I’ve just left him to it but it really frustrates me when people take their shit mood out on other people.

The doctors just told you that you are pregnant - what’s your first thought? That’s impossible.

Do you have any saved texts? No.

Do you still talk to the person you liked five months ago? Yeah, we’re married.

Anything you want to tell someone but can’t? No.

#survey #surveys

[1983ram]

LH1983:RAM Episode 2 - Uptown Girl

Summary: Rue places her next call after a rough second day alone, she theorizes about what could have caused all of this and hopes Bridget picks up one day.

EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

We hear boots crunch against snow, RUE stands outside her RIG, holding onto the open door. She sighs and looks up at the night sky, she sounds like she has been crying. Her hair looks messy and she sniffs every few steps she takes towards the Payphone booth.

This time she looks both ways on the road, a small breath hitching as she does, something has made her trust the road less. 

INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT

We hear her shuffle into the booth and rustle through her coat pockets for the necessary change, it takes her a while. While she rustles, we hear RUE curse under her breath, back to the edge of tears again.

RUE (breathless) Fucking, FINALLY!

We hear RUE bring out and slot the coins into the machine and press the numbers, whispering them to herself as she does. 

BRIDGET (quiet, audibly smiling) Hi, you’ve reached Bridget and Rue, unfortunately neither of us can come to the phone right now so leave your message after the beep!

RUE (Interrupting the message, whispering) You’re still not there huh…? That’s…

We here the beep from the receiver

RUE (CONT’D) (at full volume) Hey Bridge, so… I uh… got a bit of a funny story for you this time, ah… although it might not be too funny for you heh…

So, you know how my hand got sliced up by that window? Yes I’ve been taking care of it, but I usually drive with just that hand on the wheel you know? Well, I hit a bit of a rough patch of snow, I could barely see the road in front of me! Plus with my hand I uh… Well I lost control for a second.

(Interrupting herself) Now, I-I-uh I’m not hurt, so just don’t even worry yourself about that and uh… the rigs fine too so… just spooked us is all, you know. It just… sucks also not having that much control with my good hand anymore, you know? I had to actually… heh I had to actually put both hands on the wheel for once, if you can believe that. I’m sure hearing that would make you happy, you could say ‘I told you so!’ and I wouldn't even be able to argue.

RUE laughs, it's a bittersweet laugh that she wishes would be shared by someone on the other side of the line. But nothing but silence returns, so she continues.

RUE (CONT’D) Yeah um… well… other than that… I’d say it’s been boring but… when you seem to be the only person left on earth, does it ever really get that boring? 

Found out that TVs don’t work anymore, that was pretty exciting. I found a lil motel up here, I’m in the mountains now, can’t remember what it was called though… maybe… eh i dunno… anyway, wanted to see if I could get the news or a movie or… anything to help me sleep that night but it was just all snow, every channel.

(Thoughtful) Do… Do you think they call it, static, snow because it's… white? Can’t really think of any other real reason why they would. Doesn't sound like snow either, sounds more like that old box fan we’d bring out in the summer. Doesn't really remind me of the snow… Feels a bit disingenuous doesn't it? Er- like dishonest. But I dunno… they'll call anything anything these days. 

Been thinking of what to call this whole… event by the way. As well as like… what it really is. Some kind of… great unpeople-ing or maybe some kind of result of some secret war, maybe the cold war finally got heated, that or… maybe… maybe it really was some kind of rapture that happened. 

And well… in that case… Why did I get left behind? I… I really don't get it, you know? I don’t really believe it either, over a billion people just up and gone and I'm the only one left? On this whole planet? Well… feels a bit personal then, doesn't it? I dunno, it's probably just a silly thought but… I… really do hope I start finding other people here soon or… or you finally pick up or something or… you know, I might just about start feeling jealous for those people that got taken.

Maybe it's all just one big prank on me. Read a book like that once, it's not a very funny prank to play on someone honestly. It drove the man in the book to madness, but… I’m sure I'd hold up better. Spend a lot of time on the road alone and you start to not mind the loneliness…

But… anyway… I should get back on the road, speaking of. I love you Bridget… Pick up soon. Please.

We hear RUE gently setting the phone back, as if waiting for someone to suddenly pick up. But of course no one does, and she opens the door to the phone booth to the sound of wind racing by.

EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

Once again RUE looks both ways before crossing back to the RIG, as it awaits her patiently on the other side. She turns back to the booth as she stands in front of the door, looking at the lights off in the distance. We hear a high, beautifully sung note, it sounds close. 

RUE sniffles one last time, wiping a tear from her cheek as she tears her eyes away from the beautiful sight. She clicks the engine on, the rumble drowning out the high pitched noise of the THREAT coming closer. 

She drives off into the night, trying to focus on the road.

FADE TO BLACK

END OF EPISODE 2

#long haul 1983 #solo rpg #writing #solo journaling game #ttrpg #actual play #script #episode 2 #LH1983:RAM

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[joannechocolat]

White feminists, I’m looking at you.

Another week, another raft of Press articles by self-professed white “feminists”, defending their own prejudice by bashing other women. It’s as if they can’t stop themselves, these women of a certain age, a certain class and a (very) certain privilege, who seem quite happy to see women abused, as long as those women are different from their own privileged circle of friends.

These are the women who “don’t see” race, and who think that counts as a virtue.

These are the women who “don’t see” class, or disability, or neurodiversity, or gender, except perhaps for that one friend, who represents all others, and will be used as proof of their tolerance and lack of prejudice whenever the question arises.

These are the women I interact with every day, many of whom I think of as being decent, well-meaning people.

But in actual fact, not seeing race (or gender, or class, or disability) just means you don’t see your own prejudice. I get it: it’s very convenient not to be able to see how one’s privilege impacts on others. Because as soon as you can see that, things start to get uncomfortable. Criticisms people make of you start to seem more justified. It becomes harder and harder to hide behind your comforting circle of friends - all of whom are telling you that you’re right, you’re good, you’re kind, in fact, you’re the real victim if ever your prejudices are called out– your friends, who think just like you.

But here’s the thing. We’re all privileged. We all have unconscious bias. Just because we’re women in a patriarchal society, doesn’t mean we’re not capable of punching down at someone more vulnerable, or causing another person – or group of people - to do so. And let’s face it; those people are usually men. Misogyny loves it when women attack other women. And it’s intersectional. Look closer, and you’ll find how often it leads to racism, ableism and transphobia.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. Using the patriarchy to confirm your own social and racial prejudices, rather than hearing the voices of those women who most need your support. Women of colour. Trans women. (And no, I’m not going to let you deflect by arguing about what exactly makes a woman – there are plenty of people who have done that. Read them if you want to.) What really matters is not whether someone looks or thinks or behaves like you. What really matters is who suffers harm, and who benefits from your actions.

Women are in a majority. Sometimes we forget this. We fight against sexism and prejudice as if we were a minority group. We’re not – or at least, we wouldn’t be, if we didn’t keep splitting into factions, attacking each other, then looking all surprised when the patriarchy keeps rolling on, harming women everywhere. And the saddest part is that we have so much potential energy. If only that energy were directed to bashing the actual patriarchy, rather than by heaping blame upon the women who are its victims, we might be making progress instead of tearing each other apart.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. I know how angry you must feel when people call you prejudiced. I know you’re used to the moral high ground, to the feeling that you’re the real victims of a system that’s loaded against you. And I know that when people call you racist, or ableist, or transphobic, it feels like abuse. It feels that way because you’ve never really considered your privilege in all this. You’ve never really considered the impact your words – amplified by social media, or published in the national Press - might have on real-life people.

You really need to do that. And no, it isn’t easy. First, you have to suppress that urge you have to tell the world that you’re special and different, and therefore have no unconscious prejudice. You’re not, and you do. The fact that you don’t think you have any is precisely because it’s unconscious prejudice. Unconscious prejudice is like a black hole: only detectable through its actions. And if your actions cause POC harm - or trans people, or autistic people, or any other marginalized group likely to receive abuse, or worse, because of something you said, or did – then you need to understand what you did, and acknowledge it.

The first and most important thing is to understand is that this isn’t about you. Too many people fixate on whether or not they’re really racist (or sexist, or ableist, or transphobic) instead of looking further. I get it. It’s easier to focus on the words and what they mean, rather than the reason they were used in the first place. So stop thinking about the words, and think about what you did, instead. Consider whether you said or did something that was harmful. You’re not in the best position to judge. (Unconscious bias, remember?) So listen to your critics. Instead of feeling offended that someone used an ugly word, ask yourself why they used it. Look at their reasons, not yours. Understand their perspective.

That means first putting aside all your excuses and justifications. This isn’t about you, remember? No-one cares why you made a mistake. You might have done it by accident. You might have done it out of ignorance. You might have stuff going on in your life that made you careless or vulnerable.  But this isn’t about you. No-one cares why you caused harm. All that matters is that you did. The harm might be direct – causing offense to someone through your words or actions – or indirect – for instance, reinforcing harmful stereotypes, or attracting the kind of negative attention that might result in trolling, doxxing or violence.

Whatever it was, if that happens, the first thing to do is to acknowledge it. Own it without making excuses, or arguing over semantics, or talking about your feelings, or making the process about you.

And no, it isn’t easy. It involves centring the conversation around someone other than you. You may not be used to doing this. It may make you feel uncomfortable. It may even upset you. But remember, this isn’t about how you feel. The fact that you’re instinctively trying to make this about you, even now, should be telling you something.

So yes, get over your feelings. If you said or did something that’s likely to cause harm to someone, own it. Educate yourself. Apologize. Move on, with a greater awareness of what you need to do to improve. That’s all. We’re none of us perfect: we all make mistakes. But when we do, we need to put ego aside, and try to stop repeating them.

Only then will feminism stop tearing itself apart. Only then will feminism be truly deserving of the name - when white women finally understand that if they continue to support and care for only the women who look and think as they do, then the patriarchy wins, and that they are doing its work.

White feminists, I’m looking at you.

White feminists, I’m looking at me.

[queenshelby]

The Secretary

31 Days of Kink: Day 12

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Smut, Dom/Sub

Words: 1567

Imagine working for Thomas Shelby and…well guess!

***

‘Come in and sit down’ Tommy instructed as he indicated towards one of the armchairs in front of his large oak desk.

You complied with his request but couldn’t help but worry. Your performance has been rather bad over the past two weeks as you and your boyfriend were fighting once again.

‘Have I done something wrong Mr Shelby?’ you asked.

Tommy settled himself in the chair opposite you, long limbs clad in his dark suit. He loosened his grey tie and took it off, placing it on the desk next to him, as he spoke to you.

‘Today? No’ he chuckled. ‘But I am wondering what a young woman like you is doing in the office on the weekend’ he added.

‘Just…I don’t know’ you said. The truth was that you didn’t want to be at home with your boyfriend.

‘Don’t you have a man?’ Tommy asked.

‘I do’ you responded with a faint pink sheen painting your cheeks.

‘You do?’ Tommy smirked. ‘Is he not treating you well that you have to hang out here?’ he then went on to ask.

‘No’ you barely managed to say as a true blush suffused your skin and you looked away from Tommy.

‘Why are you with him then, eh?’ Tommy asked as he looked at you searchingly but you didn’t respond to is question.

‘Either he is rich or the sex must be pretty good if you stick around for a man who treats you badly’ he chuckled.

You shook your head shyly in response to Tommy’s comment and Tommy’s eyes widened.

‘So, he isn’t rich and the sex isn’t good…I see’ Tommy chuckled just as he stood up and took off his black suit jacket. He then rolled up his sleeves, revealing the light hair on his forearms on his pale but beautiful skin all the while he could feel you watching him.

Tommy knew that he should really should leave you alone. But your whole manner was as if you were waving a red flag and he was the bull. He could not resist any longer.

He leaned over you, hands resting on either side of your armchair. Your breath sped up and your pupils were dilated.

‘Maybe the right man hasn't come along yet, eh’ Tommy smirked as he lowered his face to yours.

Just as you were about to say something, Tommy tilted your head up and claimed your lips. But, it wasn't a romantic kiss. It was a sexually dominant one. He licked and suckled and lightly bit your lips, before invading you with his tongue. Your muffled protests instantly became aroused moans and Tommy could feel you surrender to him.

He withdrew from you, maintaining his grip. You were flushed, your lips swollen, eyes closed your breathing fast.

‘Stand up Love’ Tommy said. His tone was commanding and you didn’t dare to argue and complied with his request.

‘Good girl’ Tommy said before he resumed kissing you, then trailed kisses down your jaw and then your neck, which where he bit you ever so gently. You moaned and melted into him. He had you by the neck and your body understood, even if your mind didn't.

Eventually Tommy lifted you up and turned, placing you on to the desk. He then nudged your legs apart and resumed kissing you, bringing your body flush with his, pressing your breasts against his hard chest and pressing his hard cock against your mound through your clothing.

You were moaning and trembling and he pulled back a little and you let out a little automatic protesting mewl. He slid his hand under your skirt to feel you through your panties.

‘You're soaked already, Love’ Tommy grinned and your eyes snapped open, looking at him dazed, a little pained "Oh!' torn from your lips.

He withdrew his hand, then encircled your waist and glided both hands down your hips. ‘Do you want me to fuck you?’ Tommy grinned.

You moaned and tried to squeeze your legs back together, remembering your boyfriend at home. But, Tommy kept them open, his hands gripping your thighs.

‘Answer me Love’ Tommy asked as his grip tightened. He already knew the answer but he needed to hear it from you.

‘I have someone…’ you said. Your tone was breathless, lacking conviction.

‘I don't think you get this wet for your man now do you, eh?’ Tommy grinned.

‘No Mr Shelby’ you said. You closed your eyes, a shamed blush painting your cheeks.

‘So, I ask again. Do you want me to fuck you?’ Tommy asked, his fingers tracing over your mound.

‘Yes’ you nodded shyly in between moans.

‘Well then’ Tommy responded before pushing you down on to the desk and pinning your arms above your head. He glared down at you. ‘Are you going to behave and be good for me, Y/N?’ he then went on to ask.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you moaned as Tommy brought your wrists together and secured them with one large hand, then used the other to pull down your grey skirt and white panties.

Without warning, Tommy inserted a finger into your wet entrance.

‘So fucking wet’ Tommy groaned as his finger slipped into you with ease.

You moaned loudly in response and Tommy soon added another finger before finding your G-spot. While his fingers thrusted in and out of you, he circled his thumb around your entrance to take some of your wetness and used it to play with your clit. He watched you carefully, learning you, taking pleasure from you. You were arching into his fingers, wanting more and he took away his grip on your wrists and kneaded one of your breasts, pinching a nipple as he went.

‘Oh god’ you moaned as you responded to Tommy’s actions with pleasured gasps and began to tremble. You arched, muscles tightening, trembling, holding your breath, then you let out adorable undignified sounds as you came all over his hand.

‘That's it Love’ Tommy groaned as he withdrew his hand from you and tasted you on his fingers.

You opened your eyes dazedly, not seeming quite aware of where you were just as Tommy pushed his fingers at your mouth.

‘Taste yourself’ he said impatiently and you felt compelled to obey him. You licked his fingers and then, without further instruction, sucked him of all of your juices.

‘That looks delightful Y/N. I wonder how you'd do with my cock in your mouth…Let's find out, eh’ Tommy grinned as he came away from you on the desk and unzipped his trousers, untucking his shirt and freeing his cock.

You pushed herself up slowly before dropping to your knees in front of Tommy.

‘Open’ Tommy instructed as he guided his cock into your mouth. He was pretty big and you were unsure what to do exactly as this wasn’t something your boyfriend made you do.

You bobbed your head up and down Tommy’s hard shaft several times until Tommy took hold of the back of your head, wanting you to take him in further.

Just as Tommy guided himself into your throat, you couldn’t help but gag.

Tommy sighed, taking you by the ponytail with one strong hand to pull you away and letting go again.

‘There is enthusiasm, and you are obviously trainable. But let us work on that later’ he chuckled.

You withdrew, looking at him with a slightly hurt gaze and stood up in an ungainly way.

‘Now Love, let’s make you come again eh’ Tommy smirked as he grabbed your arms and turned you around before pushing you down on his desk.

He kept you down with his hands, gripping your hips, as he slowly lined his cock up with your entrance.

Slowly, he inserted his cock into you, inch by inch stretching your tight walls as he went. You were wet and open to him and there was no special resistance to his penetration. He lost himself in how hot and tight and wonderful you felt and the half-pained half-pleasure noises you were making for him.

Tommy began to thrust slowly then fucked you harder and harder, pausing occasionally to prolong the pleasure for both of you. You were trembling and moaning and then he sensed you tightening around his cock.

‘That’s it Love, come all over my cock’ he grunted as your legs began to shake.

‘Oh god fuck yes’ you moaned as your second orgasm washed over you.

After your high subsided, Tommy finally pulled out of you and made you drop onto your knees again.

You instinctively opened your mouth as you watched Tommy stroke his cock.

‘I expect you to swallow’ Tommy said sharply just before, with one loud groan, he filled your mouth with several spurts of his warm and sweet cum.

You complied with his request and, after you let him fill your mouth, you swallowed, not spilling a single drop.

‘Right, I've got some work to be getting on with’ Tommy said as soon as he came down from his high and zipped up his pants.

You quickly got dressed and turned to go, still dazed, and you were nearly at the door before he spoke again.

‘Y/N’ Tommy said and you turned back to look at him.

‘Break up with your man and come back into the office tomorrow. This time, don’t bother wearing panties, eh’ Tommy smirked.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you said disconcerted and wide eyed.

Tag List (Cillian):

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#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

[beewolfwrites]

Do you write requests? I mean... chishiya getting his hair washed by his s/o... and it's so intimate that he really struggles with his emotions... dunno if you'd write that, tots fine if you don't. Just saying... would be cute wouldn't it...

Hello! I'm always happy to write requests, though this is the first one I've ever had :)

I wasn't sure if this managed to get across enough emotion on Chishiya's end (because that boy is like an emotional breezeblock) but I hope you like it all the same!

---------------------------------------------------

You were never worried whenever Chishiya left for a game. Well, that’s not entirely true. He was smart enough to wriggle his way through almost any situation, you knew that. Rationally and logically, Chishiya would survive. But there was always that tiny voice whispering, ‘What if’.

What if he ends up in a Spades game and isn’t athletic enough?

What if he’s ambushed by other players during a Hearts game?

What if there can only be one survivor, and by chance, it isn’t him?

Interestingly, ‘What if he gets so covered in blood, it forces him to finally wash his hair properly?’ never once crossed your mind.

Half-asleep, you heard the door to your shared room creak open as someone shuffled inside. At any other time it could have been an intruder, or even one of the militants, if not for the beam of light from the hall slicing through the darkness. Chishiya’s features were briefly illuminated, then he shut the door.

You dreamily watched his silhouette as he rummaged through the drawers, dragging them open one by one until the noise woke you up completely.

‘Chishiya?’

‘Go back to sleep.’ He shut another drawer.

By now, sleep was too far gone. Sitting up with a yawn, you switched on the bedside lamp, but when the yellow glow filled the room, it became horribly apparent why Chishiya was turning out all your clothes drawers.

His white hoodie, sweatpants, and even his skin were all spattered with blood. And within an instant, there was only one question pressing on your mind.

‘Is it yours?’

‘I told you to go back to sleep.’

The side-glance he gave you as he reached for a towel revealed that he wasn’t in the mood for this, probably because his favourite white hoodie was stained. But neither were you.

‘Is it yours?’

‘Does it look like it’s mine?’

Eyebrow raised, he turned to face you fully, letting the light accentuate every stain in his clothes. On closer inspection, no. It couldn’t possibly have been his. The speckled pattern of the blood suggested that it must’ve come from someone several feet away. Realising that he was unharmed, you instantly relaxed.

‘Was it those collars again?’

‘Yes, actually.’ He paused, smiling curiously. ‘But the players weren’t the ones wearing them.’

Ah. It was one of those games where one of the others hunted the players down. You’d survived them before, and their lives were almost always pitted against yours.

If Chishiya had any intention of telling you about his game, it certainly wasn’t right now, because he suddenly turned towards the bathroom, giving you a full view of the back of his head.

‘Wait!’ You threw back the covers, managing to catch him by the elbow just in the nick of time. ‘Wait a second.’

‘What is it now?’

You lifted up locks of his hair, inspecting the dry, tangled mess. Aside from a couple of specks at the front, he’d somehow managed to avoid getting blood in it. However, that didn’t mean the overall state of his hair wasn’t nasty as hell.

‘I thought I told you to brush it properly after you shower,’ you said, feeling the damaged stands between your fingertips. ‘And we have conditioner. Don’t you use it?’

He looked at you tiredly, as though he couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. ‘Conditioner is waste of time and money,’ he said. ’Now go back to bed.’

He tried to shut the bathroom door between you, but there was no way you could let hair like that pass. The moment the door closed, you yanked it open again before he could lock it, catching him by surprise.

‘Nope. You’re not getting away that easily.’ You pushed your way into the bathroom. ‘There’s no money in this place, and no excuses.’

He leaned against the bathroom counter, watching impassively as you started to run a bath. ‘I don’t take baths.’

‘Well, you do now.’

Opening the bathroom cupboards, you pulled out some of the nicer hair products that you’d collected from abandoned salons in the city. Since the only currency in the Borderlands was human life, luxury hair products were free game.

You could feel Chishiya growing more and more irritated. ‘Pull the plug, or I’ll do it myself.’

Ignoring the comment, you pulled gently at his hoodie in a signal to remove it, only he shifted away from you and muttered that he wasn’t a child. Despite his small, reluctant comments, it was surprising how easily he’d given in. Perhaps he was simply too tired to argue, though you knew you’d get an earful about this tomorrow.

Once his bloodied clothes were in a pile on the floor, he uncomfortably climbed in the bath. Neither of you were particularly bothered by nudity, and it was hardly the first time you’d seen him like this. There was just something about baths that he hated, and seeing him sitting grumpily in the water, it was impossible to keep from smiling.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said. ‘If it’d been a shower, I would’ve had to get in too.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’

‘Pff, stop trying to distract me,’ you snickered. ‘I’ve got so much work to do if I’m going to rescue this mess.’

Tilting his head back, you used your hand to pour water over his hair, taking your time to dampen it thoroughly before squeezing in shampoo. You had never been very good at massage, but you tried your best, rubbing the lather in to make sure every strand was coated, and every drop of blood washed away.

Chishiya didn’t seem to protest. It was a stroke of luck to catch him while he was too tired to put up a fight. You snuck a glance at his face while shampooing his hair, only to find his eyes closed, expression peaceful.

‘Chishiya?’

One eye cracked open. ‘I’m awake. Don’t get any ideas.’

Smirking, you started washing the suds away. ‘I guess my plan to attack you when you were sleeping has been foiled.’

‘What a coincidence,’ he mumbled. ‘I had the same plan earlier.’

Once the shampoo had melted into the bathwater, you pooled conditioner into the palm of your hand and started combing your fingers through his hair, coating the locks while gently easing out the tangles.The silence was comfortable, and neither of you spoke until Chishiya let out a small sigh.

‘I preferred what you were doing before.’

Your hands stilled in surprise. ‘You actually like this?’

‘I wasn’t convinced at first,’ he replied. ‘This is the first time someone’s washed my hair like this. I suppose it’s not too bad.’

Chishiya’s words opened up a lot of doors, and you couldn’t help but ask, ‘Didn’t your mother wash your hair for you? When you were small, I mean.’

‘Ah…’ He smiled wryly. ‘We had a nanny.’

Your hands slowed as you mulled over this new information. Chishiya had only vaguely told you about his parents. He barely spoke with his father, and his mother was no different. But that was all you really knew. Maybe he was raised entirely by staff.

‘Was the nanny nice?’

He hummed under his breath. ‘She was underpaid, and she let me know it.’

Did he mean to say, his nanny took her frustration out on him? The more he spoke, the more unsettled you felt learning about this. ‘She helped during bath times, right?’

‘She supervised.’

It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines. He must’ve been washing his own hair from the moment he was able to, and even then, it would’ve been impossible to remember what the experience was like before. No wonder he was terrible at looking after it now.

Bad habits die hard.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, pressing your cheek against his damp skin. To your surprise, he leaned into the embrace. It was a small slip that he would never show anybody else, a fracture in his apathetic facade, and there were no words shared between the two of you. Just understanding.

That was, until the silence was ruined.

‘Hurry up. The faster you finish messing with my hair, the faster I can get out.’

Chishiya really didn’t like baths.

#alice in borderland #aib chishiya #chishiya #imawa no kuni no alice #aib #chishiya shuntaro

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART ONE

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo. 

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

A/N: my attempt at a college kookie story? enjooooy

--

Perhaps it is the universe telling him to stop drinking. 

Jeon Jungkook really needs to start listening to the universe, and stop listening to - well to put it bluntly - his penis. 

When he wakes up in another stranger’s bed, with a splitting headache, and lipstick marks scattered across his chest, he reckons he should start making better life choices. 

The young woman sharing his bed - a girl from the party last night, with legs that go on for miles - rolls over and blinks her eyes open sleepily.  She smiles at him.

“Hi Jungkook.” 

He racks his brain for her name.  Jisoo… Jennie… Lisa… Rose? 

He feels bad - he really really does - but what can he do?  He was seven tequilas in, when Taehyung convinced him that taking her home would be a good idea. 

“Hi…. You.”  He finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly. 

She blinks again, this time a little more furious.  Her eyes narrow after a moment. 

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”  She purses her stained lips, and Jungkook really does feel awful.

Or maybe that’s just the hangover. 

“I uh - maybe.  It’s.. Last night’s a little bit grainy for me, to be honest.”

She seems unimpressed, arching a well-groomed brow, “You’re in most of my classes at college, Jeon Jungkook.”

And really that’s when he feels like a complete asshole. 

“Shit.  I’m sorry,” He tries to place her - he tries so fucking hard - but he knows he doesn’t recognise her, and a worm of guilt starts niggling in the pit of his stomach.

She rolls her eyes and sits up, pressing a hand against her forehead and clicking her tongue, “Whatever.  Just get out.  Jerk.” 

Jungkook feels bad.  Seriously, he does. 

But he can’t help but share her sentiment.  

He scrambles out of bed, fishing around her bedroom floor for the jeans he so carelessly threw off, and the white shirt he’s sure is stained with something he’ll never be able to get rid of.  He stumbles into the clothing and turns back towards the nameless woman glaring at him from underneath the covers.

“Do you hate me?”

She rolls her eyes, “Get out of my house, asshole.” He winces.  He knows he deserves that.

“See you soon?” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her unruly hair, “Hopefully not.” Jungkook bolts out of there like his life depends on it but just as he pulls the front door open, somebody else blocks his way.  And suddenly everything in the world shifts, and he feels as though his heart has just split open right down the middle. 

Because standing in front of him, holding two bags of groceries, is an absolute angel.  

Jungkook thinks - no he’s certain - she’s the most beautiful woman he’s seen in his entire life, and now he understands the songs, and the sonnets and the plays.  This is what love at first sight is.

It has to be.

“Oh.”  She laughs a little, “Hi.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Hi.”

“You must be Y/N’s guest.” 

Y/N.  So that’s her name.

“Uh… Yeah.”

Her cheeks flush brightly, “I’m Soomi, Y/N’s roommate.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N’s roommate.  I’m Jungkook.”

When she giggles, Jungkook feels like he’s ascended into another plane of existence.  

“Well it’s nice to meet you too.”  Her eyes lower to his haphazardly buttoned shirt, “Under the circumstances.” Jungkook feels stupid and wonderful all at the same time, and just as he’s about to do something crazy - like ask for her number, or ask her to marry him, even - somebody clears their throat from behind him.

In a moment, Jungkook remembers exactly where he is.  His heart drops.

Shit.

Y/N.

“I see you’ve met the asshole I slept with last night,” Y/N raises a brow and clicks her tongue, “You were just on your way out, Jungkook, weren’t you?”

“I… Uh…  Yeah.  On my way out.” Jungkook knows he has no right to feel dejected - after all he was the one who couldn’t remember Y/N’s name in the first place.  But he’s sure Soomi might very well be the love of his life, and he can’t possibly just walk out like this, can he? But when he turns to face Soomi he notices she’s already stepped out of the way for him… And there’s really nothing more he can do.  

“Well uh… It was nice to meet you Soomi,” He moves into the hallway and turns to give Y/N a half smile, “See you in class.”

“Like I said.”  Y/N pulls a face, “Hopefully not.”

Soomi giggles again and he feels like he’s been shot straight through the heart, “Bye Jungkook!”

The door slams shut in his face, and the moment Jungkook is alone he notices how quickly his heart is racing.  Oh god.

He’s in love. 

He has to be.

//

“Jungkook.  You’re being ridiculous.”  Jungkook’s roommate Namjoon rolls his dark eyes, “She is not the “love of your life.”  Stop being so dramatic, you sound like Jin.” Jungkook feels like his heart is about to burst.  It’s been less than three hours since he met Soomi and all he can think about is the curve of her smile.

“No.  I’m serious, Namjoon.  C’mon, when have you ever known me to feel this way about a girl?”

Namjoon sets his mug of coffee to one side and clicks his tongue, “Never.  I’ve never known you to feel this way about a girl.  Which only further proves my point - you’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re just made of ice,” He comments bitterly, “I’m serious Namjoon.  I’m in love.”

“Listen Jungkook you know I usually love to disagree with Namjoon,” This comes from Jungkook’s other roommate Taehyung who is slung across the couch lazily, “But I’ve got to say… This time he’s got a point.  You sound like a crazy person.”

“If you saw her you’d know exactly what I mean.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard Jungkook is surprised he doesn’t lose one to the back of his skull.

“It’s a girl Jungkook.  A girl you met for all of twenty seconds.” “She was an angel.”

Taehyung giggles, “You’ve really got it bad huh?” “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left her.”  Jungkook feels himself deflate slightly, “I need to see her again.” “And how are you going to do that?”  Taehyung raises a dark brow, “Surely you don’t have any classes with her, or you would’ve seen her by now.”

“No but… I have classes with Y/N.”  Jungkook knows it’s a dumb suggestion.  

But he can’t help it.  He needs to see Soomi again. 

“Y/N as in the girl who you slept with and who’s name you couldn’t remember?”  Namjoon scoffs, “Even you can’t be dumb enough to think she’d help you out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No… Maybe not out of the goodness of her heart.”  Jungkook agrees, carding a hand through his cherry red locks, “But I can figure out something she wants.  Y’know… Mutually beneficial.”

“I hope you’re not talking about your penis,” Taehyung pulls a face. 

“Have you not been listening for the past hour Taehyung?  I am in love with Soomi - I’m not about to sleep with her roommate...Again.  I’m a one woman man.”

Namjoon pushes himself to his feet, “Your only hope is that she’s in love with somebody else.  Somebody you could potentially help her seduce.”

Jungkook stands too, “That’s brilliant.” “What about Hoseok?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side, “Everybody’s in love with Hoseok.”

“Do not drag Hoseok into this Jungkook.”  Namjoon gives his friend a pointed look, “I’m serious.  He’s still heartbroken over Alexa.”

“Alexis,” Taehyung corrects, “Why can’t you ever bother to get the names of our girlfriends right?”

As Namjoon and Taehyung argue over Namjoon’s inability to remember names correctly, Jungkook starts thinking of all the ways he can convince Y/N to help him with Soomi.

It’ll be a piece of cake.

Or so he hopes.

//

Monday morning rolls around and Jungkook spends practically every minute from the moment he leaves his dorm scouring the campus for Y/N.  She isn’t in his first class of the day - or even the second.  By his third class of the day he starts to wonder if maybe she’d confused him with someone else.

Maybe there’s another Jeon Jungkook on campus who sleeps with attractive women and forgets their name in the morning.  Somebody else is stealing his game.

But then - like a vision from heaven - she walks into his political science class as if she isn’t the key to all his happiness. Her eyes flit across the lecture room and when they land on Jungkook she glares.  He wants to sink back against himself but he refuses - instead he smiles widely and gestures for her to sit in the empty seat beside him.

She shakes her head as if he’s crazy (and to be honest, he might be) and instead moves towards the very back, sliding into a seat all on her own. 

Jungkook grunts.  He can’t really blame her. 

Still.  Does she really have to make things so difficult?

He grabs his books and shuffles over to where Y/N is sat, engrossed by something on her phone.  When he looks closer he realises it's one of those pimple popping compilations on Youtube.

Gross.

Jungkook clears his throat and when she looks up her expression morphs from surprise into annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting beside my new friend,” He grins wider, “Y/N.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, “What do you want?”

“To make amends,” Jungkook answers immediately, “I kind of feel like an asshole.” “You should.”  She gives him another look of annoyance, “But I’m also not stupid.  You’ve got the hots for Soomi, haven’t you?”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.  Is he that obvious?

“Everyone has the hots for Soomi,” Y/N waves her hand noncommittally and gives him a once over, “Though not everyone has slept with her roommate.”

Jungkook winces.  It’s clear Y/N despises him.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“For forgetting my name or for giving me the worst head of my life?” The insult sears him.  Jungkook may be a little bit of a lady’s man but he’s always been determined to please his lovers.  He wishes he could remember any part of their tryst (to prove her wrong, more than anything) but once again he draws a blank.

“I can make it up to you.” She raises a brow, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue with her - before Y/N’s attention is stolen by the figure that has just walked through the double doors of their lecture room.  Jungkook follows her gaze and smirks when he realises who she’s staring at.

“So you have the hots for Park Jimin then?”

Y/N’s eyes snap up to meet his and she seems flustered, “What?”

“You just looked at him like he rearranged the stars to spell your name,” Jungkook’s smirk widens, “You like him.”

Y/N looks ready to smack him across the face.  

“Shut up.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” When her eyebrows dip into a scowl, Jungkook knows he’s won this battle.  He leans towards her, conspiratorially. 

“I know Jimin well.”

That’s kind of a bold statement (and kind of a lie.)  Jungkook knows of Jimin.  He’s on the same dance team as Taehyung and Hoseok - two of Jungkook’s closest friends.  That’s enough of an in, isn’t it?

“No you don’t.”  She mutters with a roll of her eyes, “I can see where you’re going with this.”

“No seriously.  He’s best friends with Kim Taehyung,” Again a slight overstatement, but Jungkook doesn’t correct himself, “And Taehyung is like my brother.  We grew up together.”

“So what?  You help me out with Jimin and I have to do the same for Soomi?”  She scoffs, “Soomi and I are best friends.  I don’t want to lie to her.” “It wouldn’t be lying.”  Jungkook’s voice pinches a little, “It’s just helping fate along.” “Fate?”  Y/N’s expression morphs into one of disbelief, “Oh my god.  You really do have the hots for her.” “If cupid himself descended to earth and shot me in the ass with an arrow, I’d feel exactly the same for her.  Seriously.”

Y/N seems to contemplate the suggestion.  Her eyes move to meet the back of Jimin’s head - where he’s sat in the front row - and she sighs heavily.  Jungkook tries to read her face. 

Is she softening up to the idea?

“Let’s say I agreed to help you.”  Her voice is flat, “How can I be sure Soomi won’t just be another notch on your bedpost?”

Jungkook feels his chest constrict, “I resent that.  Just because I have more experience than others doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.  I don’t pursue women with the intentions of fucking them over.”

He won’t admit it but that assumption kind of pisses him off.  

When Y/N is quiet a moment longer, Jungkook sighs and tugs a hand through his hair. 

“If I do fuck her over…. Which I won’t.  I give you full permission to start a rumour that my penis is the size of a cocktail sausage.  I won’t even deny it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and Jungkook notices (but doesn’t comment on) a red flush to her neck.

“Alright.  Fine.  I’ll help you out with Soomi, if you help me out with Jimin.”

Jungkook has to force himself not to punch the air in triumph.  Instead he grins - nice and wide - and nudges Y/N playfully, “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

She groans.

“I’m already regretting this.”

//

Jungkook sends Y/N a text message the next morning, bright and early.  He doesn’t expect a response from her - he assumes she’s more of a night owl than an early bird - but then his phone pings in response and he has to say he’s a little surprised.

Jungkook: good mornin’ y/n… this is cupid calling 

Y/N: y’know..  I knew giving you my number was a bad idea 

Jungkook: oh c’mon don’t be like that, now that we’re friends you should definitely start warming up to me

Her reply takes a little longer but Jungkook isn’t worried.  Despite what she feels towards him, Y/N thinks her only way to Jimin’s heart is through Jungkook.  So she’ll just have to put up with it.

Y/N: I just puked in my mouth at the thought of warming up anywhere close to you.  Gross

Jungkook smiles at her response.

Jungkook: I think you like me more than you're willing to admit.  Anyway we need to get on with our…. Agreement.  Want to come round this evening to discuss arrangements?  I’ll even throw in some pizza and beer.

Y/N: I only like hawaiian.

Jungkook: Disgusting.  You and Namjoon will get on fantastically then.  Alright hawaiian it is. 

He sends her his address and when she replies with the puking emoji he laughs despite himself.

Maybe she’s not all that bad.

//

“Pineapple on pizza is a cardinal sin.” Y/N glares at Jungkook as she tucks into her third slice, “Why are you hating?”

“I just - I don’t get it.”

Y/N had arrived at his apartment earlier that evening with a six pack of beer in what Jungkook had assumed was a begrudging olive branch.  The two of them had spent the last hour discussing the delicate intricacies of mario kart, and Jungkook had found himself enjoying her company more and more.

He hated to admit it but she was kind of cool.

Only kind of, though.

“You don’t get it because your taste buds are subpar,” She moves her mouth into a small smile and Jungkook almost gasps at the gesture, “Hawaiian is the only acceptable way to eat pizza.  Period.”

“Y’know you look much cuter when you smile,” He quips, watching as she chokes on the last piece of crust, “You should do it more often.” Her eyes narrow into a glare, “I smile at people who bother to remember my name.”

“I thought you’d forgiven me for that.  I’m helping you out with Jimin aren’t I?”

Y/N laughs - and Jungkook is surprised at the warmth in her tone, “At a price.  Or are you forgetting I’m setting you up with Soomi?”

“Which reminds me,” He scoots closer towards her, pushing the pizza box out of the way, “What’s our plan of action?” Y/N seems to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking nervously across his face as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear.  Jungkook doesn’t comment on her sudden shift in behaviour, but he notices it. 

Man.  Girls are weird.

“I thought maybe… You could come over one night, to watch a movie or whatever.  And you could ask Taehyung and Jimin to join, too.”

Jungkook nods emphatically, “That’s a good plan.  Something intimate to really plant those seeds of love.”

Y/N laughs again and he notices the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she does so.  Weird.  Why hasn’t he seen those before?  Admittedly… It’s kind of adorable.

“Plant those seeds of love,” She pulls a face, “You really are a wordsmith, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Is it any wonder when my major is English lit?”

“Me too,” She cocks her head to one side, hair falling out from behind her ears, “Makes sense why you’re in most of my classes.”

Jungkook feels kind of (very) guilty as memories of their morning together are brought back.

“I really do feel like shit for not remembering you.”  He rubs the back of his neck in that universal boy sign for awkwardness, and clicks his tongue, “I wish I had.”

She shrugs, her eyes darkening a moment as she looks away, “It’s alright.  I’m kind of used to it to be honest.  Always been more of a... Background kind of person.” 

Jungkook clucks, like a mother hen disappointed at her chicks, “Hey don’t say that about yourself.”

When Y/N moves her eyes to meet with his own again, Jungkook notices she doesn’t seem angry or bitter.   Just resigned.

“But it’s true,” She licks her bottom lip and smiles almost sadly, “Soomi’s always been the centre of attention everywhere we go.  And I’ve known her… Forever, really.  So it makes sense.  Someone always has to take the back seat.  I don’t mind it.  Suits me just fine.”

Now Jungkook really feels like an asshole.  When she was prickly, it was easy to shove everything under the carpet, and pretend that not knowing her name wasn’t sort of horrible.

But now she was being nice, it made everything a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry Y/N.  Really.”  

She meets his gaze again and smiles - this time a little lighter, “Don’t worry about it.  Now you know who I am… And you’ll never forget it.  Not least because I’m the love of your life’s best friend.”

Jungkook feels kind of awful right now, but he knows that apologising again will probably only annoy her.  He tucks his guilt somewhere into the back of his mind and smiles widely, trying to ease the mood.

“Right.  And I’m the person who is going to help you snag the man of your dreams!” 

She laughs at that, taking a final chug of her beer before setting the empty bottle to one side.

“Park Jimin here I come!”

“You’ve got a one way ticket to Bonetown and Jimin is flying first class!”

She laughs louder, this time snorting, “That makes no sense, but I’ll take it.”

They spend the rest of the evening hanging out in a way that feels strangely familiar, and it’s only when Y/N’s head begins to lull to one side that Jungkook realises it’s past three am.  And as he orders her an uber home, and insists she takes the final slice of pizza for the journey home, Jungkook realises that Y/N is more than just kind of cute.

She’s kind of great.

//

Later on that week, as Jungkook fills Namjoon and Taehyung in on his progress with Y/N, the former seems less than impressed.

“This is only going to end badly.”  Namjoon shakes his head, “Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy?  Shit like this only ends in tears.”

Jungkook takes a swig from his beer and rolls his eyes, “Have you ever tried to be positive a single day in your life Namjoon?  Y/N agreed to help me.  It’s progress.”

“But you dragged me into it,” Taehyung seems unimpressed, “And I told you me and Jimin aren’t even that close.”

“Okay so I might have embellished slightly….”

“Slightly?  You called us the best of friends,” Taehyung groans at his friend’s stupidity, “I’m not sure Jimin even knows what major I’m taking.”

“This is the most Jungkook problem of all time,” Namjoon guffaws at the situation, “How the hell are you going to sort this out.” “Tae - I just need you to convince Jimin to come on one date.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I don’t know him that well, Kook.  What exactly am I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know but you once convinced your mom those nudes of you that got leaked senior year of high school were actually for an art project,” Jungkook pleads with his friend, “I know  you can do this.” Taehyung laughs at the memory and pulls a face, “If he says no though, there’s not much else I can do.” “Fine.  But at least try.”

Jungkook knows that the universe is working in his favour.  It has to be.  The moment he laid eyes on Soomi he knew he’d never be happy again without her.

“Alright Kook I’ll try.  But I’m not making any promises.” Jungkook grins, “You’re the best.”

“I know I am,” He leans further back into the couch and grabs a slice of the pizza Namjoon ordered, surreptitiously picking off the pineapple, “Now what are you going to do about Y/N?” Jungkook raises a brow, “What do you mean?” “Well you described her as a she-demon,” Namjoon snorts, choking on some of his beer, “How exactly is that going to seduce Jimin?” “Remember everyone loves him,” Taehyung tacks on - less than helpfully - his smirk growing, “She’s going to have to get in line.” “Everyone does not love Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You’re kidding right?  I once watched him turn down three girls in one night.”

“Yeah.  This girl from my psych class says he’s still heart broken from his ex,” Namjoon seems to be enjoying Jungkook’s predicament a little too much, “Says he won’t even give anyone a chance.”

Jungkook refuses to let his friends’ pessimism get in the way of his elation.  He’s one step closer to Soomi, and if Jimin thinks he can be the one to stand in his way he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it work.”  He answers with more confidence than he necessarily feels, “Besides, Y/N’s not that bad.  In certain lights she might even be considered kind of… Cute.  She’s just a little...brash.”

“Could her brashness towards you be due to the fact you forgot her name after an evening of vigorous love making?”  Taehyung gives his friend a knowing look, “I mean that would probably even hurt you Jungkook.  And you’re the master of not giving a fuck.”

“I apologised.”  He says it like that should fix everything, but in the depths of his heart Jungkook knows forgetting her name was kind of (really) shitty, “Besides.  If I really do set her up with Jimin and this all works out perfectly she’ll have a lot to thank me for.  Might even forgive me.”

Taehyung laughs and Namjoon pulls a face.

“We live in hope.” “That we do Joon.” Jungkook grins, “That we do.”

//

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