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otterskin · 3 years

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I didn't like the LOKI show, no matter how hard I try, and it's messing with me.

My mother died at the end of December. A lot of other bad things happened as well, like the severe brain injury of my father.

I didn't cry. There was so much to do. I did it. And even then, when there was nothing left to do, I didn't cry.

I found distractions.

Today I went to see the Green Knight after a tough week at a new job that had me leave my father in another province even though he still needs help. I was trying to get back to the life I'd dropped.

I loved the Green Knight. The Arthurian Legends are as dear to me as Norse Mythology, and my copy of them had the Green Knight on the cover. The film was truly excellent, evoking the feel of the story whole still doing something unique and very A24. I cried at one point, like I did when watching the first THOR, because of how much it meant to see something I'd loved since the very first years of my existence finally make it to the big screen and be...right. It's own thing, it's own artistic product, but right.

Then I opened a tab in a browser and saw I had some messages on a website I comment on. It was just some minor criticism of the LOKI show I'd posted beneath an article and how it handled certain things.

I was downvoted. Berated. Hated. Lumped in the ad hominem twitter users who attacked the director and writer (I'd never, ever!) Told I was biphobic because I wanted to see more of a queer lens (I even addressed how difficult it is for bi people in queer cinema and society in general in my criticisms of the romance, but even that wasn't good enough - just disliking it was 'bad'.) I was told I just wanted my 'fanfic' made (I never made any laundrylist of plot points I demanded). I was accused of being a begrudged shipper (ha! If anything I'm an anti-shipper). I was told that I should love the show, it was awesome, and I was bad for not thinking so.

And I started to cry.

I don't cry. Only at movies. Not at real life. I didn't cry at my grandparents's funerals, I didn't cry when I was left with the body of my mother in the hospital room and my brother cried on my shoulder. I didn't cry when working through my dad's severe new disabilities as I realized how much he had lost. I didn't cry while realizing how messy my parents' finances were. I didn't cry when my mother's friends called me in the middle of the night and cried into the phone. I didn't cry when saying goodbye to my dog and going back to a rundown apartment with a terrible smell so I could go to work in a dark room for hours at a time.

But now I'm crying and writing this.

I've realized why. During everything, I looked forward to the LOKI show. The first THOR is deeply nostalgic to me and I watched it often in my first year of Uni when I was away from home. It tied in thematically to what I was going for. Thor 2 came out before I went on exchange, and while I disliked it overall, talking about it was a welcome distraction from my anxieties. Thor 3 was nerve-wracking, but it also came out during my first major job which I was struggling with, and I saw it so many times in theatres...it was such a huge comfort.

Looking forward to LOKI wasn't just a distraction. It was like a promise. A promise that I'd make it till then and see it and maybe it'd give me some comfort.

That's on me. That's a personal thing. It's an unreasonable expectation.

But I needed it, all the same.

Then it came out.

I tried. I really tried to like it, to forgive it, but the problems are things I've criticized for too long in so many other things. I always try to be respectful about, I never go ad hominem and attack the creators, only critique their work and I always mentioned what I liked but...

I didn't like it.

I have no urge to rewatch it.

And the Green Knight...the Green Knight was everything I wanted and needed it to be. It didn't let me down, though I've been anticipating it about as long as the LOKI show. They're very different, obviously, but in my heart they share the same compartment.

And after a very trying day...I realized how badly I needed to rewatch a Loki show I liked. But I can't even enjoy THOR or Thor:Ragnarok anymore. It's like everything I did like has been poisoned.

This thing that got me through immense pain is causing me pain. I don't want to be toxic. I'm sure it's in me. I try so hard not to wallow in disappointment, but to not even be allowed to talk about my problems without being lumped in with abusive online monsters...

I can't do it. I just can't.

This is supposed to be an escape, not another trial.

I needed the LOKI show to be good, so I could come out of the dark into the light, or at least walk through the night with a lantern ahead of me. And instead it was just more darkness, and it's not even entirely its own fault. It's the online discourse. It's the uncalled for harassment of Herron and Waldron. It's the taunting jabs at people who didn't have a good time as if we're all jerks. It's having people roll their eyes when you point out things that made you uncomfortable in the story, it's feeling slightly gaslit when you find something gross that the story intended to be gross and then being told it's not gross, actually.

I'm sorry. I don't want to cause pain. I just...

I needed it to be good. And unlike Thor 3, which delivered me respite in a dark time...it let me down. Worse, it's hurt me.

I said I don't cry, only at the movies. Something about them lets me cry in a way nothing else does. I can't cry at a funeral, but I can cry in a movie theatre at the drop of a hat. It's a release valve, a way for me to process things.

I think I was waiting for LOKI to give me permission to cry. To give me something that could release this pain in me. And instead, it just gave me more.

I never should have given it that power. I didn't want to. But I had to, to get through this.

I'm putting away the few THOR pieces of tat I have. I feel foolish. I always knew it was a capitalist piece of art, chucked from creator to creator with no creative shepherd, which in itself was stressful.

The fandom is no sanctuary for me either, since I'm primarily interested in the family dynamics and I'm sick of 'Odin is an ABUSIVE MONSTER' stories or even unrelated fics and posts just dropping in hate for him that's not at all canon but seems to be very popular to the point where people think it is. Especially since I often read these stories when I need to think of home and my father. Or, most pleasantly of all, when I get called an abuser or abuser-enabler because I say I like Odin as a character. I also can't really bear to deal with anything to do with Sylvie, whom I had high hopes for as someone who wants more female tricksters, but instead I got this...this Mary Sue that's very hard to criticize without being yelled at. I swear I'm coming at her writing as a feminist and I don't hate anyone, I don't, I just...sigh. She's just personally frustrating to me and not being able to discuss it without being called names sucks.

Not to mention I'm asexual, and I always struggle with romance in media being pushed as the 'ultimate relationship more important than any other'. Part of the reason I liked THOR so much was that romance was not the main feature of THOR and definitely not THOR 3 (while my disliked Dark World was all about it, and so is LOKI). And when I criticize the romance, I get called a prude (guilty, I guess), a troll, or, my favourite, just 'a hater'.

I don't want to hate. Who wants that poison in their veins? I'm here because the Thor series HELPED me because I LOVED it. And now I look at the things I used to love and I...don't, anymore.

So much is asked of me right now. I can't willingly invite this painful thing to sit on my chest as well, especially since the world is already shoving it into my face without my doing anything, in ads, in news, in everything.

I suppose that's why I've leaned even more into Odin lately. He was untouched by the LOKI series (though not the Simpson special, which worries me). He's a trickster, he's queer, he's nuanced, he's 'misunderstood' (that old cliche, but he's misunderstood and misrepresented by the people always yelling about how this or that character is misunderstood, which amuses me, except when it gets to me), and he's in many ways free to make my own.

I still have some stuff I'm going to publish that's practically finished. Finnesang has a lot more written for it but needs some major sit-down time for re-writes and edits. Lokabrenna is practically done, just needs tweaks and Beta. I'll be here a little longer.

But I think I'm going to have to step back for now and put my passions into other things.

I will be back. After all, after Thor 2 came Thor 3. Maybe Love and Thunder will right the ship and Thor can still be awesome, and maybe eventually a creative I love will come to work on the franchise. Really, that's the key for me - I loved Branagh before THOR, and loved Waititi before Thor, and disliked Waldron's work (though I gave him every benefit of the doubt and hoped and prayed to be wrong - sadly, it was what I expected.)

But...if LOKI season 2 is more of this, more romantic tropes I hate and Loki being an afterthought in his own show and his family being devalued for new characters...I can't do it. I can't watch something I used to love just throw that all away for something I dislike.

My tears are finally drying. I wrote a lot of this while the screen was blurry, so I hope there's no grammar or typo too embarrasing. I'm not sure I have the strength to re-read it. Sorry for the rant. It helped me feel better.

Thank you all. I hope I feel differently someday.

#loki show #loki 2021 #meta #loki thoughts #personal #update

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davidfarland · 3 years

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Over the last few weeks,

I’ve been talking about some of the tawdry practices that go on in our industry, and I’ve been wanting to talk about rules of conduct when giving reviews. Too often online I’ve seen instances where people are buying reviews or selling them or trading favors.

Here are a few rules that I think you should consider adopting:

1.DON’T REVIEW EVERY BOOK THAT YOU ARE ASKED TO DO

In the course of your career, you will most likely get thousands of requests for reviews. On an average week, I get two requests for cover quotes. Unfortunately, reading a long novel (say 800 pages of manuscript) can take as a much as 20 hours. If I were to read two novels a week, I wouldn’t have time to write anything at all. So, here are some basic reasons why you must turn things down.

a) If you don’t have time to give a quote, just be honest. There have been times in my life when I really wanted to give a quote and just couldn’t. For example, one of my students, Brandon Mull, asked for a quote a few years back for his novel Fablehaven. I felt terrible, but his timing was just bad for me. (I’ve read the novel since, and I loved it.) He’s gone on to have a great career (#1 New York Times Bestseller), but every time that I see him, I just feel crummy. Now that he’s in my shoes, I know that he understands just how hectic life can be.

b) If you give too many reviews, then it devalues your reviews. Many authors set a limit of say, 2 per year. That’s a wise thing to do. Years ago, when Terry Brooks gave me a nice cover quote for The Runelords, I felt grateful. When I later learned that Terry almost never gives cover quotes, I felt even more honored. (I think that he has only given a couple of quotes in his life, as I recall.) So lend some credence to your quotes by restricting the number that you give. More importantly, if you really want to give a quote to a novel, make it a priority.

c) If the novel is not in the genre that you write in, then most likely the publisher won’t want your cover quote anyway. I write fantasy. If someone who writes horror or romance or mainstream or young adult asks for a cover quote, then I don’t feel that it does them much good to give them a cover quote. In fact, I’ve given a couple quotes that the publisher has never used, so aside from heartwarming the author, it really didn’t help.

2. NEVER GIVE A QUOTE FOR MONEY

I know a couple of authors who, in an effort to cut down on the number of people who ask for quotes, have said that they charge a high dollar amount for a cover quote. The argument goes like this: it costs me a lot of time (and therefore money) to read a book. If I’m going to read a novel with an eye toward a quote, which may have a huge impact on sales, why shouldn’t I get paid to do it?

The problem is that it causes a moral conundrum. If I get paid for a cover quote, will it be an honest one? Won’t the fact that I’m getting paid skew my perceptions? I think that it would. So I would never pay for a quote. On the occasions where people have asked me to give quotes for a reading fee, I’ve always refused to even read the book. Sorry, it just feels weird. Of course it goes without saying that you should never offer to pay for a cover quote, nor should you offer to give another author a quote in return for a favorable quote.

I do know that some places, like Kirkus and Publisher’s Weekly, do offer to review books for a reading fee. Personally, I wouldn’t do it. I realize that it takes time (and therefore money) for a reviewer to read and critique a novel that way, but I worry that this is one of those practices that gets a little too close to the line.

Please note that there are times when you may have an author that you admire who also happens to like your work. For example, I’m a fan of Brandon Sanderson, so I was eager to give him a cover quote on his first novel. In fact, for enjoyment I picked up his novel Steelheart this last Saturday and it is next on my reading list. Brandon recently gave me a quote on one of my novels.

I also happen to be a fan of several other best-selling authors. So I wouldn’t feel bad if one of them gave me a cover quote, and I would feel honored if one of them offered a quote. That of course is different from agreeing to give rave reviews to a stranger that you’ve only just met online.

3. BE HONEST IN YOUR REVIEW

I’ve had people send me books that I just didn’t enjoy. This is tough. Can you give a plug to a book that you don’t think is really any good? If you read the first chapter, and you really don’t want to read on, you have to stop right there. You can be gentle with the author and say, “This really just didn’t grab me. I’m sorry.”

You don’t have to be brutal about it. Remember that as authors, whether we’re indie or traditionally published, we are all struggling to get better, and we may have different aims and different emotional triggers. A novel that doesn’t interest me may thrill someone else.

When I read, if I suspect that I’m not the audience for that book, I ask myself, “Is there an audience for this book? And if so, can I tailor my remarks to that audience?”

I recall one author who hated Lord of the Rings. When he was asked to review a fantasy novel that he also hated, guess what he compared it to?

That’s a little bit cynical for me, but the concept is sound, so long as your remarks are honest.

4. PHRASE YOUR WORDING CAREFULLY WHEN GIVING A REVIEW

Remember that you need to have short bites that can fit on a cover. You can review both the author and the work.

For example, I recently read a science fiction novel that I loved by new author Milo Behr. It will be debuting this week, and I’ll let you know more in a day or two. I could say something like “Milo Behr’s novel Beowulf: A Bloody Calculus was the most exciting cyberpunk debut I’ve seen in twenty years,” and I’d be completely honest about the book. I haven’t seen one that I personally liked as much since William Gibson made his debut.

But what if the author so impresses you that you want to give him or her a quote that could be used for all future novels? In Milo Behr’s novel, he did something both brilliant and nearly unthinkable. He wrote his novel as an epic poem, then put it in narrative form. The result is that the novel has a hypnotic effect, unlike anything that I’ve seen outside of Poe and a couple of mainstream writers. So, for example, I might say something like, “Milo Behr’s work is brilliant and mesmerizing.”

5. REMEMBER THAT AS A REVIEWER, YOU’RE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT

Many years ago I reviewed a novel that, quite frankly, really bothered me. The protagonist was so reluctant to do anything at all that I just couldn’t relate. I wrote a review for a small magazine, then heard from some fans who loved the book. They said, “When I read that novel, that protagonist was me.” And I realized, that there was a huge audience for the book, but I just wasn’t part of it. When offering a review, you’re making your own artistic judgment. Others might not share your opinions.

What I want to emphasize here is that giving reviews can be tough. It will take time that you may not have to give, it will present moral challenges that you might not want to face, do it with caution.

Happy Writing!

David Farland

On Monday, Sam Payne, musician and storyteller will be talking with the Apex Writers Group.

On Saturday, Glen Thomson will be our honored guest on Apex.

Reserve your spot by visiting www.apex-writers.com

Come see me at FanX at booth #233. Thursday at 6 in 250a for How to Write Sci-Fi or Fantasy Series. Friday at 11 in 151D for Ask a New York Times Bestseller. Friday at 1 in 355B with Writers of the Future! See you there!

#writing #writers #writing tips and tricks #writing coach #writing mentor #writing lessons #writing advice #writing help #author #editor #creative writing #writerbl #writeblr #nanowrimo

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mrsparknamjoon · 3 years

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01. the linchpin | reliability • kth

index | next

pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 1.900 genre: drama, light angst rating: pg-13 warnings: cursing au: ceo/office trope: enemies to friends to lovers tags: ceo!taehyung, office!au, best friend!yoongi, unresolved emotional tension, mutual pining, slow burn crosspost: ao3

summary: a predictable mistake in buying shares becomes the perfect opportunity for taehyung to show everybody in the company no one is above his rules. what he didn’t know was that his plan would backfire making him question what the real meaning of trust is

A/N: this story began as a drabble bc i love dramatic scenes, whether in movies, television or books. confrontation is always one of my favorite things about them so i decided to try to write one for the first time ever. clearly i still have a lot to learn but i hope you like it!

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Another meeting, another group of incompetent people that I can't believe I hired. Sitting at the end of a long wood table, I scrolled through my phone reading a few emails while all the shareholders took their positions. It was absurd that I had to call a meeting on Friday night because of a predictable and, quite frankly, stupid mistake but here we were.

“Mr. Kim, we're ready” my secretary said discreetly as she handed me a folder filled with documents.

“Thank you” I replied as I got up from the chair and started spreading the papers on the table in front of me.

“Good evening! First, I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason for this emergency meeting is to talk about the purchase of a few Min Industries shares” I paused and gazed into the eyes of everyone present. Some of them were curious, tired, others frightened and one in particular very angry.

“I believe all of you realized that ever since it happened our company has started to fall into devaluation, thanks to someone’s stupid and hasty decision” I continued while looking at the documents before me. “I don't want an explanation about what happened or why it happened, just how we are going to solve it” I turned and faced my main suspect, “Today”

“Mr. Kim, if I may, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that there is nothing legally wrong with the purchase” said Lee Sung, one of our oldest and most efficient lawyers. Still, it was a matter of principle for me and everyone knew that.

“I understand, Mr. Lee, but this is not what I'm worried about” I began calmly walking around the table while elaborating my thoughts, “You see... although Min Industries doesn’t compete directly with us they have affiliates who do. Therefore…”

“Therefore it’s smart to buy the shares precisely because it gives us more control over the affiliates” said Y/N, interrupting me.

I couldn't help the smirking that escaped my lips. Y/N took the bait and it was all I needed. From the beginning, I knew she was the one leading the expansion project and everything was going well until she put my credibility with Min Yoon Gi in check.

Yoon Gi and I are old friends, practically brothers, but our families have a particular rivalry that has lasted for almost 50 years. It is nothing that explicit or dramatic. An outsider wouldn't see the animosity, for example. I see it as a truce, however, it's still a delicate matter for our parents and grandparents. When we both took over the businesses, we agreed that we would not repeat their mistakes and promised to interfere as little as possible in each other's company. If it was strictly necessary, we would have to talk before any steps were taken. That was the deal and that is why I was furious at Y/N's audacity to make a decision like this one. She was aware of our family's situation even if not exactly about what I had promised my friend.

“Are you serious, miss Y/LN?”

“Why would I be kidding?” she replied looking confused, twisting the pen between her fingers like she was bored.

“I have no idea, but to call that a smart decision, one that immediately impacts my company's profit, not to mention my personal reputation, seems like a joke. And a bad one to say the least” I said, staring at her intensely as I approached her chair.

The atmosphere got heavy and I couldn't care less. I was right and everyone knew it. Y/N took a risk, as she is paid to do, but the risk was not worth it and she needed to take responsibility for it. If it was anyone else I would have already fired without even calling a meeting. Luckily, she's a key part of the company and one of the shareholders as well so I decided to scold her in front of others to send a subtle warning that nothing goes unnoticed by me and that measures will always be taken, regardless of the level of the hierarchy. This is my way to send a warning because I don't do threats.

Y/N gulped and shifted in her chair, visibly uncomfortable with my proximity.

“So I'm going to ask you again, miss Y/N: are you serious?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, watching her try very hard not to lose her composure. I had known Y/N for a long time and she always managed to be as cold as me, yet on occasions where her professionalism was questioned her replies used to be impulsive.

“Mr. Kim, I'll be frank” she started, standing up and walking towards the pulpit next to the projection screen. “It was indeed a risk on my part to put Vante Enterprises ahead of such a high-profile acquisition and, for the embarrassment caused, I sincerely apologize”

“Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?” I asked, sitting on the chair that she left vacant.

“But"

“See?” I turned to Seo Nu sitting on my left. He laughed politely because I laughed first. Deep down he didn't think it was funny and just wanted to suck up to me. Clever.

“But I still believe that in the long run, we’ll reap great results… excellent results, in fact! Here's a chart” Y/N pointed at the screen in front of us and began to confidently defend her decision, clearly and calmly, completely different from the Y/N of a minute ago who I thought would lose her temper.

* * * * * * *

The meeting room broke out in applause as soon as Y/N finished presenting a chain of detailed information regarding the shares, and although I was surprised by the level of research she prepared, I was unable to hide my dissatisfaction as CEO by confirming that Y/N still didn't understand the problem.

“Could you guys excuse us?” I looked at Y/N and then at the other shareholders. Since the person responsible presented herself there was no need to keep putting on a show, right? I got up, buttoned my jacket, and returned to my original spot on the table to organize the papers I had left lying there.

While arranging them all in a pile, the room emptied and Y/N approached.

“You love to exaggerate things, don't you?” she snarled looking me up and down.

“You love to ignore the rules and interfere with what doesn't concern you, don't you?” I fired back mimicking her attitude.

Y/N stopped for a moment and studied my expression. For a split second, I could feel a question in the air as if she wanted to know if that's what I actually thought of her — a nosy and unprofessional person who ignored her superiors on purpose. I didn’t. She looked hurt. Still, her voice gave no indication that my response had affected her.

“I love my work! It's great and you pay me well” she said, taking the papers from my hand. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“Don't be childish, give me the papers Y/N” I motioned my hands and closed my eyes feeling exhausted.

“What are these projections? How come I have never seen them before?” Y/N's voice came out louder than before depicting a mixture of shock and disbelief. “There is no actual proof that these companies are connected, it doesn't make sense” she walked back to the pulpit, eyes glued to the documents to compare the numbers and references with the slides she had spent hours preparing.

“Y/N give me the papers, that information is above you” I demanded in a firm tone. “Besides, my intention with today's meeting was to get you to find a solution to your own mess but even that you weren't able to”

“How can I solve it if I don't have all the information, Tae Hyung?” Y/N lowered the papers she was gripping so tightly in front of her face and I could see red, teary eyes along with the angry tone in her voice. She hadn't called me Tae Hyung since college and that felt like a blow in my stomach.

“If I had known that the companies were connected I would have thought twice before buying the shares... I…” Y/N's voice failed but she cleared her throat and continued “...this is your fault!”

“Mine?” I asked dumbfounded.

“You left me in the dark and I made an important decision without having all the information” she pushed the papers onto my chest and started pulling the projector's wires angrily, “This is not what I call trust”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about trust? Bit ironic, don’t you think?” I started chasing her around the room while she collected her belongings and threw them into a big purse.

Y/N snorted like what I just said was absurd.

“You know very well the situation between my family and Yoon Gi's. I always made it clear that we don't do business with them and yet you went there and did it” I placed my hand on top of her purse, preventing her from continuing what she was doing. “Where is my trust in you now?” I questioned her almost in a pleading tone.

Y/N pulled the purse off the table in one swift motion and I almost lost my balance.

“You know what? You're right. I was wrong” she said, looking defeated. “I shouldn't have shown interest in shares that involved Yoon Gi's company, but you definitely shouldn't have hidden these documents from me either” she continued taking a few steps back, slowly moving away from me. “And that's where you fucked up. You're still obsessed with secrets and rules, keeping everyone who tries to help you away"

“Wait a minute” I interjected. This was unfair, it was not like that.

“I'm not done talking” she gazed at me very seriously and I had no choice but to stop and listen. “I know that we have differing opinions on many things and I have teased you too much in the past 10 years with my analysis and requirements, but I never... I say never... would do anything that would harm the company”

“I know” I whispered, feeling kind of dumb for blurting it all out like that.

“It doesn't look like it” she placed the purse on her shoulder. “For me, you're trying to find a reason to get me out of here”

My jaw dropped in shock. Y/N had no idea how much I valued her work, and at this very moment, I didn't know what to say first. An apology? An explanation? A plea? I could have said anything, but I didn't. Not even a fucking sound. My mouth remained open as my thoughts flew through my mind at a frightening speed, making it look like I was confirming her impression.

“I’m gonna save you the trouble. I quit”

Y/N gave me what looked like a small bow or maybe a quick nod as if to excuse herself and then left the room without another word, leaving me leaning against the table without understanding what had just happened, finding myself, for the first time in a long time, completely alone.

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𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 ❤ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸! 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ revised version: 09.25.2021

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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

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idk you yet: come hang out

reggie peters x oc

you’re working so damn hard, you forgot what you like

November

The problem with Reggie not telling the boys he had date plans was that, though they were on a brief touring break, Luke wanted them to stay busy. Every time he sat down to text William, Luke popped up with, “Hey, you ready to work on stuff for our next album.”

Normally he loved the work ethic. It was easy to get into Luke’s excitement and to write with him. Luke was incredibly creative and loved immediate feedback from his band members while also respecting their suggestions.

But when he just wanted a break to head back to San Jose to see William, it just didn’t seem like it would happen. The best possible outcome would be that he gets so much stuff done at the beginning of the month that Reggie would have more time for their tentatively scheduled date.

Wanna facetime?

Reggie smiled at the text and looked around their shared apartment. He knew Luke and Alex were home, in their room, and he was pretty sure Bobby was out, so it seemed unlikely that they’d actually want to work on anything without him.

Sure

Walking over to his room, Reggie collapsed onto his bed, smiling brightly as he answered the call. A tired looking William filled his screen and an ache in his chest that he didn’t realize was there was soothed.

“Hey, Reg.”

“Hey, Will, what’s up?”

William hummed, “Nothing much. About to nap before our game tonight, but I missed you.”

“Aw,” Reggie teased, “I’m more important than sleep.”

“Absolutely,” William told him earnestly.

It shocked Reggie into silence a few seconds before he managed to stutter out, “Well, I just hope it doesn’t throw your game off today.”

“You’re watching right?”

Squinting at his phone, Reggie slowly answered, “Yeah. I haven’t missed one yet.”

“I know, I just wanted to make sure. Hockey isn’t exactly your first choice to watch.”

His voice sounded a little timid, and Reggie bit his lip, “I mean I won’t watch any other teams, but I love watching you play.”

“That’s good to know,” William laughed, “can’t have the boy I like being a Kings fan.”

Reggie played dumb, “The Kings?”

“Oh hush, I know you know who they are.”

“I do, I was just trying to make you feel better.”

William laughed again, head tossed back, “Well you succeeded. My ego is sufficiently inflated.”

“Good. Hopefully you carry that on the ice tonight.”

“Always do.”

His eyes were starting to flutter a bit and Reggie smiled at the almost adorable sight. William flinched and shook himself awake with a loud yawn, so Reggie told him, “I’ll let you get some sleep. Talk to you tonight?”

“Yeah, definitely. Counting down the days until you get here.”

“I can’t wait either.”

William hung up a few seconds later, and Reggie got off his bed. Maybe, he thought to himself, he should start planning a date. Sure, William knew more about San Jose, but he didn’t want William to do all the heavy lifting. Reggie was terrified he’d eventually get tired of being the only one putting in effort.

So, he grabbed one of his many notebooks from his bookshelf and his laptop to start googling date spots in San Jose. Reggie scrolled and checked reviews, taking notes on his favorite places for future dates if not the first.

Truthfully, he had no clue if William wanted to do something simple for the first date or do something fun. They talked a lot and had gotten to know each other pretty well already, which was usually the first date activity, so they could probably afford to actually do something if they wanted to.

Biting his lip, he stared at the page. Maybe there were too many options, it looked a bit all over the place. Flipping the page, he started grouping the ideas into activities, formal, and casual. It made him feel a bit better, more organized and easier to pitch to William.

By the time he finished, it was almost game time, so Reggie put on the Sharks pride shirt he’d bought at William’s recommendation and wandered back out to the kitchen. Grabbing some leftovers to heat up, Reggie flipped on the TV and turned to the channel that normally played Sharks games.

Pre-game commentary started, and he sat on the couch to wait for the microwave to finish up. They were talking about some players that Reggie slightly recognized from William’s stories, and he pulled up the roster on his phone just as his food finished reheating.

Moving back over to the couch, Reggie pulled his feet up underneath him and scrolled through the roster while he waited for dinner to cool. He started matching names to faces, smiling when he heard them talking about William and his three game scoring streak.

“The Sharks got a good one in Harris. I know people talked about his devaluation after coming out, how it could cause problems in the locker room, but we haven’t seen much of that on the ice.”

Reggie grimaced at his words. William hadn’t really gone into depth about how his teammates treated him off the ice, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up in case it was a sensitive topic. He sighed as they moved on to talk about Joe Thornton, another name he recognized because Wiliam said that the older player had taken him under his wing his first year in the league.

“He’s the best,” he remembered William gushing, “let me stay at his house whenever I needed and really taught me how to survive. Being on the West Coast makes travel during the season brutal. Especially when you get to like January and February.”

Reggie heard the unspoken too, the older player had never given him any grief for his sexuality. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it had been for William to come out. Easier than hiding he guessed since William had done it in the first place. Reggie wasn’t sure even he was brave enough to do something like that in that toxic environment.

While he was lost in thought the game started, and he was startled out of his head when Luke threw the door to his room open. He looked at Reggie suspiciously, “You’re watching hockey again?”

“Yep,” Reggie answered, popping the p.

“Can I watch?”

Reggie was a bit surprised. Only Bobby had shown an ounce of interest, occasionally joining Reggie in watching despite being a Kings fan himself. After a few beats, Reggie answered, “Sure.”

“Sweet! My dad used to take me to hockey games when he wanted me to be an athlete. I couldn’t skate for shit though.”

Reggie snorted, he’d seen Luke’s coordination, so he could believe it. He elbowed Luke who dropped down on the couch next to him, “If they didn’t give gays a weakness, we’d be too powerful.”

Luke laughed loudly, “You’re so right.”

The two boys lapsed into silence as the game picked back up, broken every so often by Reggie making noises in reaction to what was going on in the game. He could feel Luke looking at him in amusement every so often, and when first intermission started, he prepared himself, “What’s up Luke?”

“I need, like, so many explanations.”

Reggie sat up and turned to face him, “Okay, yeah, ask away. I don’t know everything but I know a good bit.”

Luke hummed, “Maybe I should start with the obvious, um, who’s playing?”

“It’s the San Jose Sharks and the Arizona Coyotes.” “Okay,” Luke nodded, holding up two fingers, “who is better?”

“Sharks by far,” Reggie answered confidently.

Luke asked more questions, mostly about penalties and positions, and Reggie, much to his surprise, had an answer to every question. By the end, Luke looked much more relaxed and he leaned back further into the couch, “You really know your shit,” he commended.

“It’s a new interest,” Reggie admitted.

Bobby walked out of his room just as the second period started and stared at the two boys on the couch incredulously. Before Reggie could ask how long he’d been home, Bobby spoke, “I’ve been trying to get you boys to watch sports with me for years. What the hell is going on?”

“We’re multifaceted,” Reggie spoke, chin tilted up, lips quirked up into a teasing smile.

Bobby snorted and shook his head, “Sure you are.” Sitting down on the other side of Reggie on the couch, he stretched out, “Who are we going for?”

Reggie motioned toward his shirt and Bobby gagged, “But the Kings, bro.”

“Choke,” Reggie deadpanned, and then more teasingly continued, “but you’re straight, I don’t expect you to understand.”

Bobby laughed, throwing his head back against the couch, used to the teasing. He turned his head to look at Reggie, “Fair enough, I suppose I can’t prove you wrong.”

“Never wrong, not once.”

Luke snorted, “I’m sure.”

But instead of responding, Reggie focused back on the TV stubbornly. He didn’t want to miss in case William scored a goal. Reggie would say in case he did something impressive, but in Reggie’s humble opinion, everything William did on the ice was impressive.

“So who’s your favorite player?” Bobby asked, eyes still trained on the TV as the Sharks got a breakaway, three on one.

Reggie leaned forward, hands over his mouth in anticipation, and when William received the drop pass and took a shot, it flew past the goalie, straight in the back of the net. Jumping up, Reggie let out a loud yelp of excitement and immediately went for his phone to send William an excited text for his first goal of the season.

“Harris, huh?” Luke asked and Reggie startled, having temporarily forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room.

Reggie clicked his tongue, “Yep. He’s really good.”

“You know, his story is actually pretty cool,” Bobby leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “how he came out and stuff.”

Nodding eagerly, Reggie grabbed his shoulder and shook him a little, “Yes, that’s why I like him!” He paused and then added, “Well, one of the reasons.”

“Wait, what?” Luke asked, looking back and forth between the two of them, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Google it,” Bobby and Reggie said in unison, fist bumping at Luke’s wounded look.

Reggie took pity on him first, sitting back in between them before slinging an arm around Luke’s shoulder to pull him into his side, “Seriously though, look into it.”

The rest of the game was fairly relaxed. Luke got into it once he started figuring things out, halfway through the second period, and Bobby very reluctantly cheered for the Sharks with them. When Reggie smirked at him, he shrugged, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“Damn right.”

William was laying in bed, Luna burrowed comfortably into his side, when his phone started ringing. Shutting his eyes, he sighed, exhausted, and picked it up after a few seconds. When he saw who it was, his mood immediately flipped, and he answered Reggie’s FaceTime request without hesitation.

“Nice goal,” Reggie told him in lieu of a proper greeting.

William beamed, rubbing his eyes a few times before sitting up all the way to answer, “Thanks, Reg.”

The other boy hummed before making a noise and pulling the phone away from his face, “Look, the shirt you recommended came in!”

Squinting, William looked at it, the black shirt with a rainbow Sharks logo, and for some reason, unbeknownst to him, his eyes started to burn. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking softly, “I love it.”

“Me too,” Reggie smiled, cheeks reddening a bit. William wanted nothing more than to pinch them, he liked when Reggie blushed because it made him look softer.

Unable to stop himself, William blurted, “When are you coming?”

“Next week, remember?” Reggie gently reminded him, settling back against his pillow.

William pouted and Luna finally got curious enough to pop her head into view. Not acknowledging it, he told Reggie, “Can’t you come early?”

Reggie sighed, rubbing at his eyes, looking more tired than William had ever seen him, except for maybe the first time they met, “I’d love to, but Luke has been in a writing frenzy. We have daily writing sessions and I’m sure he wants to start rehearsing soon. We’re going to start recording some before we go back on tour.”

“When do you go back on tour?” William was pretty sure he’d never mentioned it, not that he remembered at least.

Reggie hummed, clicking away from FaceTime to check his calendar, and when he came back, answered, “Mid-January. We did a lot of the East Coast and West Coast and a good bit of the Midwest so we still have to hit the South and the middle of the country.”

“How far South?” William asked, curious as to what their reach actually was.

Shrugging, Reggie tapped at his bottom lip in thought, “I think probably New Orleans.”

“New Orleans sounds fun,” William offered.

“Mhmm,” Reggie hummed. He was staring at William, and William felt his head tip to the side and his eyes start to get heavier. Reggie laughed softly, “Tired?”

“Little bit,” William confirmed, yawning.

“Get some sleep.”

William nodded, “Good idea. You too.”

“I will,” Reggie promised, crossing his heart with a faux serious look on his face.

“Good,” William answered, grinning tiredly before they said their goodbyes and hung up for the night. Luna let out a huff and laid back down next to him, and William wrapped his arms around her, trying desperately to squash the sudden loneliness resting heavy on his chest.

“Soon,” he whispered.

Reggie left early on a Tuesday morning and caught a flight from LAX to the airport in San Jose. William texted him before he left, promising to pick him up after practice, and by the time Reggie landed, he was practically vibrating with both nerves and excitement.

I’m outside in the pickup lane!

Reggie sped up, a bounce in his step, and walked along the line of cars, looking for William. He was toward the back, looking down at his phone, and Reggie knocked on the window, shivering at the gust of wind that hit him.

William jumped at first, startled by his sudden appearance, before he unlocked the door for Reggie to climb in with his carry on. Reggie bit his lip, toning down the wide smile that was threatening to stretch ear to ear, “Hi.”

“Hi,” William responded, just as quietly. His cheeks were tinged red and his smile was more shy than Reggie’s, but he loved it just the same.

Reggie’s fingers itched to reach up and brush the curl of hair hanging down in his eyes out of the way, but he held back, unsure if he was allowed to. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like William’s fingers twitched too.

“Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, Reggie nodded, “Absolutely.”

William knew he probably should’ve focused fully on the road, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Reggie frequently. Just seeing him, knowing that he was real and there was so comforting, and part of William was already dreading Reggie having to leave the next day.

Reggie was staring out the window, forehead leaning against it, and William wanted to touch. He wanted to hold his hand or touch his cheek or something, just to reassure himself that he was real.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead.

Reggie hummed, “A little. I could start with a coffee.”

“Me too,” William admitted, changing lanes to head toward his favorite local shop a few miles from his apartment. When he parked, William looked over at Reggie, more uncertain than before, and asked, “I go to this shop pretty frequently, it’s really lowkey and no one will bother us.”

Reaching across the console, Reggie squeezed his shoulder, “I trust you.”

William was nervous, and he wasn’t exactly sure why, but as they walked down the sidewalk, hands occasionally brushing between them, he felt his heart pounding harder and harder with every touch. When they got to the door, William held it open, and Reggie stepped into the mostly empty shop.

A barista William recognized called out a greeting, and Reggie stepped aside to let him lead the way to the counter. The menu was relatively basic aside from a side list of specialty drinks which was what William usually picked from.

“Their special drinks are really good, I’ve tried most of them,” William muttered, shifting closer to Reggie so he could hear better.

“I might try the s’mores one,” Reggie answered, voice equally muted, “the toasted marshmallow sounds fun.”

“It is,” William told him excitedly.

He ordered his drink and stepped aside to let Reggie order his. Something flickered into the barista’s eye, William wasn’t sure exactly if it was recognition, but she didn’t say anything either way. Reggie picked the table, a two-seater tucked away in the corner, and sat down facing the door.

“So,” he started when William sat across from him, “I did some research on date places in San Jose.”

A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat, but William shoved it back down and croaked out, “What?”

“Yeah, I picked out a ton of restaurants that look really good and offer a lot of options for any dietary restrictions you might have. And then for activities I have them grouped into casual and formal and you can pick.”

William stared at him, slack jawed, stare only broken when the barista set their drinks down in between them with a soft, “Enjoy.”

A blush was rising on Reggie’s cheeks, “I would love some feedback.”

Shaking his head, William laughed, “Yeah, that’s all fantastic, but I’ve lived here for years and have never gotten to bring someone on a date, I’ve got so many ideas of my own.”

Reggie sighed, “I don’t want you to do all the heavy lifting, I want to make this equal.”

William furrowed his eyebrows, setting down the latte he’d just taken a sip of, “I invited you here, I didn’t really expect you to worry too much about this part.”

“Well,” Reggie laughed, “guess I did all this for nothing, huh?”

“Next time,” William spoke confidently, picking his drink back up.

Reggie’s eyebrows shot up, “Already assuming there’s going to be a second date before we even have the first one, huh? That’s very bold.”

He shrugged and told him honestly, “I think the first date is going to go great, and if it doesn’t, then we’ll just have to have a do-over. Second date either way.”

“Ah, an intellectual,” Reggie responded, “your reasoning skills are off the charts.”

“Well, I did go to college.”

Reggie held his hands up, “You’ve got me there.”

“My college education is short-lived, but it does exist,” William joked.

“Okay then, Mr. College Education, do you already have a plan?”

William held up his car keys and jingled them in his direction, “I sure do.”

Reggie stared at him for a few seconds and then shook his head, “Fine, I’ll let you have your little mysteries.”

“Thank you,” William said, reaching across the table to brush his fingers across the back of Reggie’s hand. He watched as Reggie’s pinky jumped, bumping his thumb, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying not to show just how fond he was of this boy he’d just met.

They spent the entire day on the couch watching movies. Luna was ecstatic to have people around all day, running around and barking until William managed to calm her down. After an hour or so, she fell asleep on the floor at their feet. Mid-afternoon, William broke out some snacks and Reggie laughed because they were vaguely healthy in a way he assumed was required for athletes but definitely not for musicians.

It was calm, relaxing even, something Reggie hadn’t experienced in so long, maybe ever. His parents did nothing but fight growing up, and then he moved in with three other boys his age. Neither environment was very conducive for peace and quiet. But in William’s apartment, he felt himself nodding off a few times, feeling warm and safe.

“Reg,” William whispered, shaking his shoulder a bit later, and he jumped, not realizing he’d actually fallen asleep.

He rubbed his eyes and croaked out, “What time’s it?”

“About an hour and a half until our reservation.”

“Kay,” he muttered, prying himself off of the absurdly comfortable couch to go to the guest bedroom where his bag was. William had offered to share his bed, but Reggie decided that staying the night was maybe too fast already, so he declined. Thankfully, William didn’t seem to mind.

William moved further down the hall and into his room, Luna padding after him, and Reggie was snapped out of his trance when he heard the click of his door shutting. Shaking himself, Reggie pulled some of his clothes options out of his bag. None of the boys knew exactly where he was going, but the day before he left, they all sat on his bed and gave their strong opinions on his choices.

Eventually, after a few minutes of staring, he decided to mix their picks. William told him it wasn’t fancy and that he needed to dress warm, so Reggie picked the jeans Alex liked, the sweater Luke chose, and Bobby’s shoe pick.

“Hair,” he muttered under his breath, moving toward the ensuite after he was dressed. Reggie had been alive for over 20 years and he’d been dressing himself for over half of them, but he couldn’t help but wish his bandmates were there to help. It was as if they heard his wish, Alex FaceTimed him, Luke hanging over his shoulder with a bright smile on his face.

“Reggie,” Luke cheered when it connected fully, “show us the fit.”

He snorted and flipped the camera so they could see. Alex nodded, seemingly happy with his work, “Looking hot, Reginald. Is this a date?”

Clearing his throat, Reggie’s ears went hot and he shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Well if it is, leave your hair ungelled. It always looks super soft, and you look hot with that strand of hair falling on your forehead.”

Luke nodded enthusiastically, “True!”

“Thanks boys,” Reggie responded distractedly and set the phone down so he could use both hands on his hair. It was silent in the bathroom beyond the noises his friends occasionally made when they moved around or gave him instructions.

“So,” Luke started when Reggie sat on the bed, completely dressed and ready, “where are you?”

“I’m in California,” Reggie tried to deflect.

Alex made a hurt noise in his throat, “Why won’t you tell us?”

Reggie sighed and admitted, “It’s so new. It’s not really a secret, but part of me wants to keep it close until it’s real.”

“I’d say it’s pretty fucking real if you’re flying somewhere for a date.”

Tilting his head back against the wall, Reggie laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”

“When did you meet?” Luke asked, leaning in close to the camera as if trying to get in Reggie’s personal space through the camera.

“Last month on tour.” “A fan?” Alex asked, shocked. All of the boys had discussed the pros and cons of dating fans, and Reggie was stuck at a hard no when they finished the conversation.

Thinking back, he snorted, “Not really. He didn’t know who I was at first, but now he’s a fan.”

“Well,” Luke broke in, “Reg, you show that boy a good time. Don’t forget, you’re a catch and he’s lucky to have you tonight!”

“What Luke said,” Alex added, “and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Reggie rolled his eyes, responding sarcastically, “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” And just as he hung up there was a light knock at the door. He took a shaky breath and walked over, smoothing his sweater down, and when he opened the door, William’s fist was hovering in the air like he was about to knock again.

His mouth went dry looking at William, “Wow, um, you look great,” Reggie managed.

William’s face lit up and he glanced down at himself, “You think? Not as good as you, that’s for sure!”

Reggie struggled for a response, and William put him out of his misery, bumping Reggie’s hand with his and tilting his head toward the front door. Following William out of the building and into the parking garage, Reggie wanted to ask what he had planned, but he hadn’t managed to get it out of him all afternoon, so he stayed quiet.

“You want to pick the music?” William asked, holding out the aux cord and Reggie nodded, taking it eagerly. William nodded, “I want to hear what a music expert listens to.”

“Expert,” Reggie tested the word out on his tongue, “I guess technically out of the two of us, but I don’t know if I’d consider myself an expert.”

“I bet you have some fantastic playlists,” William countered, glancing over as he pulled to a stop at the first red light.

“Well,” Reggie paused because he did actually take a lot of pride in his playlists, “yeah, I think so at least.”

“There you go, own your awesomeness, Reg.”

When William said ‘reservations’ earlier, Reggie assumed it was at a restaurant for dinner, and he was incredibly confused when they pulled into an empty parking lot and William parked right near the door.

“What are we doing?”

“Tonight, since we’re in my city, I figured we could do something specific to me. Since we’re kind of still getting to know each other, you know?”

“Okay,” Reggie answered, unsure where he was going, “I like that idea.”

William sounded relieved, “Good. This is the rink my team usually practices in and I have the keys.”

“Skating?” Reggie asked, immediately nervous.

“Yep,” William chirped, pulling the door open for Reggie before reaching over to flip the lights on. It was cold inside and the lights came on slowly, one at a time across the rink. William grabbed his elbow gently, startling him, and tugged him off to the side.

“I don’t have skates,” Reggie finally spoke, realizing that one huge flaw in the plan may get him out of absolutely humiliating himself.

William waved his words away, “They do public skating nights here sometimes so they have spare pairs for rentals. Eventually we’ll have to get you your own pair.”

That sounded promising, on one hand, William was planning on keeping him around, on the other hand, he’d have to not accidentally crack his head open on the ice to fulfill his plans. But instead of protesting, Reggie was a good sport and told him his shoe size because William seemed really excited, and he didn’t want to spoil it.

“Be right back,” William told him, “I’m going to grab you a pair and get mine and put some music on. We can lace the skates up on the bench.”

“I’ll be right here,” Reggie responded weakly, stomach churning with nerves.

William wasn’t gone long before he was linking his arm with Reggie’s, pulling him again toward the closest bench. Reggie sat down, in a daze, moving slowly as William quickly tied his skates. Turning to Reggie, he saw that he had skates on but they were untied and he laughed, “Never done this before?”

“Hard no.”

“I got you,” William promised, dropping down to one knee in front of him. Reggie’s leg tingled when William brushed against it while he tied the laces. After the left one, he looked up at Reggie, “All good? Not too tight or too loose, right?”

“All good,” Reggie told him, reaching down instinctively just to check.

Before he knew it, the second one was finished too and William was standing in front of him, holding a hand out to help him up. He stepped onto the ice first, Reggie following close behind him, hovering just at the edge.

“I’m assuming you’ve never skated before.”

“You’d assume correctly.”

“Well,” William started, skating backwards a bit to give him space, “the good news is, you have the best teacher on the West Coast at your service.”

“He thinks highly of himself,” Reggie joked, taking a step out onto the ice, wobbling a bit. William kept his distance, close enough that he could get to Reggie fast, but far enough that he had room to get comfortable.

“Not to brag, but I am a professional.”

Reggie snorted and took another step, and then another and another. On his fifth step, he got too confident and almost landed right on his ass, but William swept in, catching him by the armpits, a few inches from the ice.

“Holy shit,” Reggie breathed, eyes wide.

William’s voice sounded like he was holding back laughter, “You good?”

Clearing his throat, Reggie collected himself and stepped away, “I’m good.”

William hovered around him closer after that, always within reach and coached Reggie every so often in a soft tone. It felt like years had passed, but Reggie eventually got comfortable enough to not be wobbling every few steps, and William moved up next to him for the next slow lap.

“Having fun?” he asked.

And Reggie found he actually was, he recognized the playlist and with William’s steady warmth next to him, keeping him safe, he didn’t hate it. After a few seconds with no answer, William bumped Reggie’s hand with the back of his to prompt a response. Reggie snapped out of it, “Yeah, this isn’t as hard as I thought it’d be.”

William’s lips twitched, “Sure, Reg. Whatever you say.”

They finished the lap, William still teasing him, and Reggie elbowed him in the side. William flinched like he’d actually landed a solid hit and pouted. Rolling his eyes, Reggie motioned toward him, “You’re being dramatic.”

“Never,” William responded, reaching up to grab Reggie’s hand, and when he linked their fingers together, any comeback Reggie had flew out of his brain. William didn’t say anything else either, content to skate laps with him, hands swinging between them.

Every so often one of them had a question or something to say, but for the most part it was just the music and the sound of skate blades on ice making noise. Reggie kind of understood why William liked it, it was almost hypnotizing, and he was startled when William tugged on his hand, pulling him back toward the bench.

Reggie gave him a questioning look and William smiled softly, pleased, “Playlist ended. I figure we could go get food now too.”

While Reggie was relieved to be back on solid ground again, he missed the comfortable weight of William’s hand in his. His hand felt cold, and he was trying really hard not to pout. Reggie managed to get the skates off by himself and handed them over to William to put away.

“Be back in a sec,” William told him breathlessly, cheeks bright red whether from cold or something else, Reggie wasn’t sure, and before he could respond, William was gone.

William put the skates back and paused a second to breathe. He was in really good shape, but it felt like he hadn’t been able to catch his breath all night. Shutting his eyes, he smiled thinking back at Reggie’s nervous but determined face as he stepped out of William’s arms after almost falling to skate a few steps on his own.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “please relax,” he whispered, unsure if he was talking to his brain or his pounding heart. Reggie was looking down at his phone when William met him back out, and he gave William an assessing look. Not entirely sure what he was looking for, William slowly offered his hand back to the other boy, and a smile grew on his face as he took the offered hand.

“What’s for dinner?” Reggie asked, finger stroking over William’s knuckles subconsciously.

William waited to answer until they were both in the car, and he cranked it up, flipping the heat up to high for them. Reggie bumped his knee, and he answered, “I was thinking we could go to a taco truck I like. They have some tables outside, but we can take them home if it’s too cold.”

“Taco truck,” Reggie mused.

Cutting off the rest of his sentence, William rushed out, “We can go to a restaurant too though, I just thought since we’re both sort of public figures we might have less of a spotlight at a food truck.”

When William finished rambling his explanation, he met Reggie’s eyes nervously, and Reggie just smiled, “Sounds like a great pick.”

“Oh,” he said, not expecting it to be that easy.

“Oh,” Reggie echoed.

William blushed and muttered, “Shut up,” before pulling out of the parking lot.

There were a few people ordering from the truck when they got there, but there was empty seating and someone had plugged in portable heaters for people who wanted to eat there. William waited for Reggie to order before he put his in and led him over to one of the empty tables to sit.

Reggie looked around curiously and yawned, clapping a hand over his mouth and flushing with embarrassment when he caught himself. Laughing, William teased, “Am I boring you?”

“Actually, yes,” Reggie teased back.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I actually thought this was going pretty well.”

Reggie’s face softened and he reached across the table to poke William’s hand, “It is.”

One of the workers called his name with the food before William could respond, so he just shut his mouth and stood up to go get them. When he got back, the moment was gone, and they both focused on eating. The tacos were good as always, and within 30 minutes they were back in the car, heading back to William’s apartment.

“Movie?” he asked Reggie when they got back inside.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

William frowned, “Wait, I have to walk Luna first, you good to stay?”

“I should probably take a shower,” Reggie smiled wryly referencing the sweat he broke while struggling to skate.

“Okay,” William nodded, “I’ll be back soon. Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, Will.”

Before he could think twice, William grabbed Reggie’s sleeve and pulled him back, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

Reggie barely remembered getting to bed after the movie, but he definitely hated the next morning when his alarm started going off early. He hit snooze and was almost back asleep when William was knocking on the door gently, “You awake?”

“Yeah,” Reggie croaked, voice cracking from disuse.

“Okay,” William answered, “I’ll make some coffee while you get ready and I can drop you off before practice.”

Reggie was touched. He knew how tired William was all the time, and selfishly, he was glad William offered because he wanted to spend as much time as possible with him since he had no clue when he’d be able to see William in person again.

He got dressed and packed and remade the guest bed before he joined William in the kitchen. There were two mugs on the counter, one made up and one black for Reggie to fix how he liked. William watched through squinted eyes, chin resting on his palm, and told Reggie, “Gonna try and remember so next time I can have it ready.”

Reggie’s eyes burned and he took a sip of his fixed drink. Glancing over at William’s mug, he asked, “What about you?”

“Splash of almond milk and a lot of sugar.”

Tapping his temple, Reggie promised, “I’ll remember that.”

They finished their coffee like that, crowded together in the kitchen, William’s forehead resting on Reggie’s shoulder between sips. Halfway through his cup, Reggie linked his fingers through William’s again, both of their hands warm from holding the mugs. He was going to miss that more than he thought. Fuck, leaving was going to hurt. In fact, he wasn’t sure anything could hurt worse.

But he was wrong. When William pulled him into a tight hug outside the airport, he brushed his lips ever so slightly across Reggie’s forehead again, just like the night before. Walking away from that, fighting to not turn around lest he be tempted to skip his flight and never leave, that hurt more.

#reggie x oc #reggie peters #reggie julie and the phantoms #bi reggie #idk you yet series #julie and the phantoms

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sakaloo7 · 3 years

Text

The Palestinian/ Israeli situation in a simplified example

I’m fascinated by how relationships between two individuals and all their details helps in understanding bigger, more complex human relationships. I’ve been diving deep, studying and reading books about narcissism and abusive relationships, then the Palestine/ Israel conflict popped up these days. I connected the dots to many aspects that I really didn’t pay any attention to before. I always had questions like:

- Why are people turning a blind eye (especially from the west) when we are so obviously almost powerless in front of the Israeli military?

- What about the numbers? A minimum of 83 civilians in Gaza were killed in the previous days compared to 7 Israelis, whenever there is friction, we all know that Palestinians pay a higher price, more homes get destroyed, more children die, more families live in fear..etc.

A brief about narcissists, how they behave, and the link between Israel and Palestine.

- All of us probably have seen or were in a relationship with the toxic people that they are. Narcissists are extremely good manipulators, they’ll find a way to always blame you for any problem, play on your weaknesses, your guilt and shame to make you actually feel guilty for things you didn’t even do. They turn tables, always try to catch a fight with you for no reason and have horrible outbursts of anger thrown at you. If you try to stand your ground and defend yourself, you’ll be denied of this right because: How dare you be so heartless and abusive and not see their pain that led them to be angry at the first place? They’ll always switch to being a victim, they’re the ones that matter, they’re the ones always hurting, they will not see you because the universe obviously revolves around them.

- Defending yourself is always going to be used against you, no matter how you use logic and common sense, they don’t operate the same way we do, it’s THEIR logic and THEIR common sense that matter (that only serves their own selfish benefits). Nothing you say will be heard, no effort will produce any results. If you try to give them a taste of their own poison, they’re only going to bully you more, attack you more and hurt you more.

- Narcissists organize people in hierarchies, in their head, those who deserve respect are those who are richer than them, higher in status, have more fame, are more successful. A narcissist will disrespect, devalue, look down on those who are lower in hierarchy. That doesn’t mean they’re mean to everyone below them, narcissists are the ones who treat everyone so nice to serve their self image as a kind, amazing person, then treat their families and closed ones like shit behind closed doors. Their niceness is only that way because its serves a benefit to their ego.

_______________

Important synonym:

Narcissistic supply: Their fuel. Their main source of energy. In case of romantic relationships it is preying on naive, empathetic people who have weak boundaries. These people will give the narcissist what they want, attention, sacrifice and love (and of course the opposite treatment is devaluing, bullying and disrespect). Without this supply, a narcissist -literally- emotionally dies. Which is why going no contact or “ghosting” the narcissist in a romantic relationship drives them insane and causes them intolerable pain.

In case of Israel, what’s feeding the parasite is the US aid and all the countries that stand by their side, approve of their state and feed their agenda. This approval is what is keeping them alive. Being short of this supply threatens their presence.

The narcissist’s allies: These are the people standing behind them, supporting them, believing them, enabling their behaviors. These allies are what feeds the narcissists ego, in case of a relationship, it’s his other (also abusive) friends who keep talking about how shitty they treat their wives, which makes the narcissist feel that what he’s doing is approved and normal. Without these allies, the narcissist would feel indifferent. He would start to feel a bit wrong if others seriously point out his behavior. Nothing strikes a narcissist as the feeling of indifference.

You might be wondering why do people fall prey to these monsters and date/ be-friend them?

The LOVE-BOMBING stage: The facade the narcissist puts to lure you in. It’s when the narcissist idolizes you, appreciates you, mirrors your good qualities to make you think you’re meant for each other. In the context of the conflict, it’s when Israel shows how compassionate and righteous of a state it is and makes connections with countries to be-friend them (then stabs them in the back).

______________

- You’ll always be the evil one: Because narcissists are master manipulators, they will convince people that their victim (ex.: abused wife) is crazy, even her own children would believe. The woman will find herself alone and everyone’s led to believe the abusive man just because of how charismatic and confident he sounds. This “crazy woman” is the equivalent of these “Hamas Terrorists”. This card is used to discredit you as a human, a card to alienate, stop others from listening to your opinion nor rationalize your actions to defend yourself. Because why would you rationalize a woman who’s irrational? Why would you rationalize someone labeled “terrorist”? Terrorists just destroy right? They don’t think before doing anything they’re doing.

- Narcissists avoid responsibility at all costs, if you hold them accountable for their words or actions they’ll deny, gaslight and play the victim in order to avoid changing their behavior. They will always have an excuse, no matter what.

- These people KNOW they are wrong, they KNOW they’re being illogical, they KNOW their abuse and how it affects others. And they CHOOSE to stay like that because of the privileges that come with it.

Conclusion:

Using common sense doesn’t work with these people. They only recognize and would respect those who have power above them.

Appealing to their moral judgment is impossible.

The way to revenge, is NOT equal destruction. It is power, and turning everyone against them. Social media spreads awareness and Israel will not succeed in concealing their crimes for too long. “ The best revenge is to live on and prove yourself.”

Those Arab countries who are friends with Israel is exactly as if the woman’s sister in an abusive relationship sides with the physically abusive husband just because he’s so charismatic and funny “How could you say such bad things about him?”, the abusive man: “See! even your sister thinks you’re crazy and don’t make sense!”. These Arab countries betray our Palestinian brothers and sisters and enable more abuse for them.

Why are people turning a blind eye? Why don’t numbers matter?

Lets be honest, would you have more feelings of respect or more feelings of pity towards a woman who allowed herself to enter an abusive relationship? You’ll always have this question in your head: Why didn’t she just reject the guy when she saw the red flags in the early stages? People deeply have more feelings of pity or empathy over respect for those who allow themselves to be abused by others.

But it’s different with the conflict, it’s not like a person to person situation. It’s more complex, because Arab governments at a point allowed this cancer to settle. Arab leaders DIDN’T represent their citizens and DIDN’T stand their ground and for sure had common interests with Israel, and no one respects those who betray their own people. Our generations will pay a price they didn’t have to pay, because of their decisions. Just like the abused woman’s kids will pay the price of being in a dysfunctional home, and having a cruel father, even though it’s not their fault, they didn’t choose this.

This puts a responsibility on us, individuals, to take action, send donations and unite as one to help and hope it does an impact.

Please don’t feel shame if you feel helpless. Just like the children who didn’t choose their bullying father. None of us, Arab citizens, chose this. We are paying prices we didn’t have to pay and we either decide to be responsible for it and turn it to productive actions or be bitter about it and give up (not recommended). All of us have to understand the dynamics of such problem and not guilt ourselves, and just do the best we can right now.

So, again, why do people turn a blind eye?

1- Refusing to look at the conflict as an international human rights violation. Same reason why there aren’t laws to regulate domestic violence in many countries and some will justify and say: “The woman chose this person herself”, “We have more important issues to solve”, - even though it can get extremely violent - which is failure to take responsibility for what’s right. Some consider it an Arab problem that Arabs just have to deal with, because they allowed it in the first place! So, international human rights foundations and those countries that have the power to do anything won’t take responsibility because it is against their interests and gain or simply because: “Why bother?”, and blame it on our governments, which kind of makes sense.

2- Because some see the Arab world as a nation that’s inferior. We are not in the top hierarchies in a lot of fields (economy, education, health care,..etc) in terms of what we add to the world or to our own citizens. This doesn’t mean we are failures at an individual level, we don’t lack what makes us excel, but we are seen generally (as countries) as mediocre. For many reasons, like poverty and ignorance. This way of thinking also follows the same ideology of a narcissist: only feel compassion and empathy towards others based on hierarchy.

3-Stereotypes. Since all the middle eastern news is not very decent. That puts the pressure on individuals to reinforce a good impression that their countries and societies failed to make, and correct the false impressions of them as well. If you’re Muslim/ Arab living abroad you might feel you have to smile wider just to prove you’re a good person. Which is very exhausting, and again, you’re paying a price you shouldn’t pay. For a mistake you didn’t make. Many won’t have that Arab friend to prove their stereotypes wrong, so they’ll just keep themselves busy with their own country’s issues.

4- Because people are not connected to us. Take South Korea as an example. They have achieved tremendous success in reaching people with their art and music, people from all over the world recognize their hard work and effort so they’ll therefore empathize with their pain. Don’t be surprised if twitter explodes with hashtags of a K-pop group member having a flu but no hashtags for children getting killed in Palestine. As much as it’s sad, it’s human nature to feel empathy towards those who you have emotional connection to.

5- Its a sensitive topic, so people just want to avoid any clash. They don’t know who’s right and who’s wrong and therefore feel like they don’t have enough info to judge the whole thing.

What to do?

Focus on ourselves, set valuable goals, have integrity.

Be aware that conflict is part of life, don’t paralyze yourself in negativity.

Not be tricked to play the role of the victim. We can change so much if we focus our power into our strengths instead of dwelling.

Do our best to be the best person in our job and excel in our field.

Ending with two of my favorite quotes:

“It’s better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in war”

“When you begin the journey of revenge, be sure to dig two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself.”

#freepalestine #savesheikhjarrah #palestine

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graphicabyss · 4 years

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?人 NEWS

I wrote an enormous post, or rather an essay, concerning NEWS, Tegoshi, and everything that went through my mind in the past month. Honestly, it’s mostly my way of coping, getting it out of my system and sorting out my thoughts and feelings. But I decided to also post it here for those who might want to read.

It was a long time coming. The rumours were lurking around for years and a month ago they bloomed. And yet, the full realization is yet to dawn on me. When something devastating happens, our mind tends to shake off the pain by either exonerating the beloved person who hurt us, or blaming them and distancing away from them. It's really hard to stay objective. But I'll try.

Coming into this fandom, I prepared myself for disappointment. Once I was a TVXQ fan. You know, the 5-nin TVXQ that was going to be "together forever" and all that. So I wowed never to get that invested in a pop band. When NEWS came along, I tried not to get too attached. I knew it would hurt me, sooner of later. And for awhile, it worked. But, as years went by, I knew I lost the battle. We humans need to cling to something. Thus, nearly 7 years have passed.

To me, Tegoshi has always been a key component. He was the one that led me to NEWS. Or rather, how pretty he looked in a dress. Tegoshi always kept me interested. Sometimes he excited, sometimes he annoyed, but he was never ever boring. He was made of contradictions, both in words and in actions. Nothing ever adds up with him. He made me want to understand him but I could never quite grasp it. Thinking about it now, perhaps it was because he doesn't really understand himself either.

In these years, I had several crisis points where I considered leaving the fandom, all caused by something shitty Tegoshi said or did. But every time I bounced back. Of course, I didn't do it for him. I did it for myself. However, his selfishness has always been offset by his kindness. The last time was him crying at the end of Neverland tour and how sorry he looked. Till the end, I wanted to believe that his common sense and loyalty won't let him do something reckless and stupid. Yet, here we are. The interview he gave to Bunshun led me to believe that he would do the right thing. He said he would show his gratitude to JE and would definitely make his fans happy but now it's the furthest thing from the truth. The fandom is disappointed, confused, angry.

Some people say to get over it, that Tegoshi was meant to leave or some shit. But I think those people fundamentally misunderstand the heart of the problem. It's not that he left that infuriated the fandom. It's how and when he left. Most fans would support his decision to leave if the transition was done properly. He owed us that much. A proper apology. A proper gratitude. A proper farewell. The announcement had me in disbelief. I expected him to at least finish the contract, do the Story Tour, no matter how long it takes, and show the members, staff and the fans the respect they deserve. To cut it short feels like a violation. At the very least, we need a closure. The last goodbye. The last concert. The last something. He just left JE after 17 years like it was nothing.

More than anything, what he did seems so stupid. He had it so fucking good. He was always in the spotlight, both on stage and in TV shows. The other members did most of the offscreen work allowing him to shine. He was supported by endlessly patient members and staff. He had the freedom to choose and all the work he wanted for each of his passions - ItteQ, Soccer Earth, OpenRec. And he had fans that always supported him, no matter how many scandals he had.

What was so important that he had to give up on all the amazing benefits he had? To betray all this trust? And on top of it, at a time like this? When all world is going through so much shit? When the fans need moral support more than ever? What were the "dreams" that he talked about?

The ability to rant on Twitter? Making duckface selfies? Fucking around? Assembling a shitty rock band? Performing with strippers? Some kind of unique business opportunity? He talked for years about wanting to perform overseas or hosting fan events but right now these things are offlimit anyway. Why couldn't he at the very least explain his decision properly? Just that alone will definitely hurt his further career in the long run. The press-conference lasted 2 hours but it answered none of the questions that really mattered and there was no remorse. Though at this point, I can't trust anything he says anyway. He created his Twitter account the the evening it all went down and didn't bother explaining himself. He just jumped off the ship and let other people deal with the damage.

Even now, it all seems like some kind of bad dream. Then again, all of the 2020 does.

When I first saw "手越退社" trending on Twitter back in May I felt like I was spinning into a downward spiral, like all air was sucked out of me. And it wasn't the "oh, no! what will the band do?" I never went to a NEWS concert and never brought any merch. To me, it wasn't really the feelings of a fan whose band faces a crisis but rather that of an entrepreneur who invested too much money into one asset and watched it plummet.

Fandom stuff is a currency that can devalue in a blink of an eye. Its valuable as long as its core message is intact. This is why I can't stand people being petty over scans or videos. I share when I can knowing it will make someone happy because I know that tomorrow that someone might move on. When I stumble upon old closed journals with password-protected downloads they feel like ancient abandoned temples. The treasures in them turned to dust.

4nin NEWS were based on unity, the combination of 4 unique characters. Four components, each of them essential. Now that concept failed. It's like standing in front of a collapsed building. I try to assess the damage. How much of it can I salvage? Repurpose? How much is lost and needs to be cleaned up? Should I even bother?

What do I do with hundreds of live performances and TV shows, in HD, lovingly downloaded and stored?

What to make of thousands of scans, magazines, pamphlets, almost each image edited and sorted? Thousands more stored neatly in folders, waiting to be posted. Countless screens and gifs.

What of the member ai fanvideos that gained over 100k on Youtube bringing joy to so many people? I already got the first heartbroken comment saying "we won't ever see them like that again, will we?"

What to make of my unfinished stories? Honestly, it's one of the things I'm most proud in my entire life. Now their future is uncertain.

Do I take down the poster on my wall? The CDs on my shelf? Soon I will have to looks at my enormous stash and decide for each item. Things that once brought joy now cause pain.

NEWS weren't selling music, they were selling ideas and dreams. The cute band photos now cause hurt and anger. The uplifting songs about unity won't be convincing. All the concerts lost their charm.

Am I being too dramatic? Probably. Perhaps the issue itself may seem trivial to an outsider but our grief is real.

Tegoshi keeps saying he loves NEWS and adores the members. But to me, loving is doing everything you can to avoid hurting the ones you love. Perhaps he means it, but that love will never compare to the love he has for himself. Despite what he says, I doubt we'll even see them together again and I'm not even sure I want to. I knew apart from Koyashige, the members aren't really that close personally. Tegoshi is shallow and seeks popularity more than anything. I'm sure than now he'll hang out with even shadier characters than before. The members used to provide him with the much needed tough love. Now, with nothing and noone holding him back, he'll give in to his overblown ego.

I'm not sure how I feel about NEWS continuing as 3. I mean, I support their decision and that's probably what most fans want but to me, I don't know if it'll work out that well. They were already a band with a lot of luggage and now, just like in 2011, they are a band that induces pity. They would have to rearrange so much to try and fill this huge gaping hole. Not to mention they will struggle vocally. No songs, no choreography can be unaltered. It might be better to go on within the agency doing their own things. But then that would just mean Tegoshi was indispensable and all the work they put in will be wasted. The Story must be competed.

In the past week I went through various stages of grief. The anger was strong and so was disbelief. Now it's finally subsiding, giving way to acceptance. It won't come soon but I'll let all the emotions run their course. The fact is Tegoshi remains very entertaining and the temptation to keep following him and rant about him is strong. I probably wouldn't even fight it if he were to leave with at least a shred of dignity. But with the way things are, I refuse to support him in any way. And I will at least try to phase him out as much as I can as I realize that even my anger is playing into his hands as he wants nothing more than attention, good or bad. Instead, I'll try to focus on those who do deserve support.

I'm not yet sure how to proceed with the blog and everything else but I'll take my time and figure it out. The truth is Tegoshi was one of the two major things that have kept me here for so long. And no, the second reason is not Shige. It's the people. Out of all the fandoms I've been in over the years this one really felt like home. I met so many amazing people here, even though many of them have since moved on. I felt accepted and appreciated.

This week has been an emotional roller-coaster. But today I feel fine. I have a dozen reasons to be depressed. But I'm not miserable right now because of the fandom. I've had about 10 people write to me within several days. Some of them I haven't talked to in months, some I've never talked to before, and some from other fandoms. They reached out to share their thoughts and feelings, and I appreciate it so much. I felt less alone. I felt a sense of solidarity, a sisterhood. Many agreed with me and it was touching but even more touching were the people who didn't necessarily agree with me and still wanted to hear what I had to say.

Perhaps it's patronizing but I feel like right now the best I can do is stay connected and go through this together. If I can help others, through informing, making someone smile, or supporting emotionally, it's all worth it.

#musings

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Tbh, I really dislike the emphasis of Dick’s importance to the DCU and the various people in his life, like....so often coming back to his ‘innate goodness.’ Because while on the surface, of course that’s a positive thing, I consider it such a double-edged sword, narratively speaking.

I harp on a lot about how I think its not really that productive to label people good or bad rather than specific actions....because it shifts the focus away from the actual action or behavior that caused harm, to the person itself, and again....there’s not a lot that can productively result from that. (Now, when you’re not trying for or expecting anything productive to result one way or another, that’s a different matter).

And the thing is, I personally have just as much of a problem with people being just labeled ‘a good person’ as a bad one, because like....to me, it just devalues choice. Free will. The effort that goes into being a good person, by virtue of trying to do the right thing, do good, day after day after day, because that is not easy.

Like, I dislike “oh he’s such a good person” just pretty much in regards to anything, real life or fiction-related, because again....it shifts the focus away from the deed. It lessons the acknowledgment that whatever they just did to earn that label from someone like....it didn’t happen just because a good person did it, ergo of course it was a good thing. It happened because a person who had an endless variety of choices in front of them, chose, with intent, to do good. No matter what it might have cost them.

And when we’re talking about fictional characters, I have an additional gripe with that, because like....because fictional characters can only ever do what they’re written doing, rather than actually make choices of their own.....narratively speaking, it becomes a trap.

Because that “he’s a good person” inevitably carries with it the weight of expectation. And if Dick, for example, is just so fundamentally seen as a good person...then by extension, everything he does must be good, or at least not that bad - which is NOT a good take to ever have. Like as a huge fan myself, I still never want to catch myself arguing that something that done by anyone else I would say “that’s fucked up,” like, can’t be that bad when its done by a “good” person....like, no. That’s not how that works. And shouldn’t be.

But then on top of that, there additionally comes the double-edged sword that like....because he’s fundamentally a good person, anything ‘bad’ he does, that’s called out or held up or looked at as actually being bad.....is immediately either OOC.....or if its still considered valid characterization....then the inevitable takeaway is that Dick didn’t just do something ‘bad’.....he also like....on top of that he let people down by not living up to being ‘a good person’ who isn’t supposed to be capable of doing shit like that.

And I truly do think this plays into a lot of the reception he gets both in narratives and in fandom reactions to those narratives. There’s this almost tangible weight of disappointment anytime Dick does something that even is just....less than ideal.....because the expectation of being so innately a good person means that he always, always has so much further to fall than anyone else, in most peoples’ eyes. Its the whole feet of clay thing.

Nobody can ever be perfect. Nobody can ever be one hundred percent good, one hundred percent of the time. Yet time after time, its the characters who are deemed most ‘innately good’ in various franchises.....that people tend to seem to be disappointed in the most often.

Like, of course that’s what happens! Because those kinds of expectations are impossible to meet...especially so long as that character is still flawed. Which is literally the flip side of all of this, the ever-present expectation people have for that to be true as well. Because otherwise a character is ‘too perfect’ and thus impossible to truly relate to.

So, even though it sounds like a good thing - “Dick Grayson is so beloved and so important because he’s just inherently a good person”....IMO, the second that starts getting taken at face value, it creates a trap wherein he’s doomed to disappoint.

Because anything he does wrong from that point on, anything he’s written doing wrong, isn’t just him doing something wrong....its him being Dick Grayson wrong. He’s not living up to what readers expect and have internalized ‘being Dick Grayson’ to mean.

And to me, that’s just inherently self-defeating, because how can you explore a character’s humanity if you’ve already laid out from the get go the expectation that he isn’t truly allowed to ever express.....a good half of the emotions, behaviors and mindsets that are simply a part of being human?

All the negative stuff....y’know, the stuff we constantly hear criticized as being his flaws, when with other characters, they’re simply...part of their characterization? His anger....(even when he has cause to be angry). His resentment....(even when he has cause to be resentful). His secluding himself and avoiding his own loved ones...(even when they’re the ones hurting him).

And we see this play out in the actual comics and fanfic storylines themselves as well. Look at how Bruce reacted when Dick killed the Joker in Last Laugh.....was that just his inability to process his son breaking his own personal golden rule? Or how much of that was just....Bruce unable to process this particular son doing something that ‘wasn’t innately good?’

How much of Tim’s canon and fanon reaction to Dick’s decision about Robin is actually warranted, versus how much of it is amplified by the ‘disappointment’ of Dick Grayson having done the unthinkable....done something that hurt Tim, something Tim never thought possible, because Dick Grayson is supposed to be too good to ever have to worry about hurting him in any way too?

How much of the fanon about Dick being an asshole to Jason at first, or avoiding him or neglecting to spend time with him....is really just ‘the absence’ of Dick being seen on the page at the time, going above and beyond with Jason, the way he normally goes above and beyond with everyone who needs him, and thus.....when he’s not seen behaving as expected, invariably the only explanation must be because well, obviously he hated Jason, otherwise he would have spent just as much time with him as we saw him spend with Tim.

And so on, and so on. It creates this paradigm where the second Dick does anything that comes from a place of bitterness or hurt or anger or jealousy, the second he makes the less than noble choice, takes the less than ideal route, he’s.....somehow....let his family and friends and readers all down just by virtue of doing something so human rather than just so good. Regardless of whatever that thing actually even was, and how bad or not it might have been, just weighed by itself.

*Shrugs* Anyway. Obviously just my two cents, make of it what you will, take what works for you and throw away the rest, I’m just saying.....personally, I think there’s a lot more to appreciate about Dick and his character and storylines when you stop unconsciously measuring all those things against some impossible standard of ‘innate goodness’, and just.....look at his specific narrative choices, actions, stories, and evaluate them on their own merits, decide if they’re ‘good’ or not regardless of it having been Dick who enacted them.

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clansayeed · 4 years

Text

The Price ― a Bound by Destiny drabble

⥼ Summary ⥽

Nadya's visions of the past are starting to take their toll, but Adrian is always there to help her recover. A century ago Gaius makes sure Adrian stays loyal to him through manipulative means.

note: This piece takes place in the year between Bound by Destiny I & II, and sheds a little more light on how Nadya coped with her visions before she knew the truth; as well as offering a glimpse into the Trinity’s movements during the 1910s.

The flashback that takes up the second half of this piece references a real historical event, but all implications, names, and the like are purely fictitious in nature and should not be taken as fact.

word count: 2,518 rating: teen+ content warnings: references to past emotional manipulation/abuse, death, grief, mention of physical violence (brief), historical references find out more: HERE

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Nadya?”

Her eyes are watering; sting with the burn of being held open. When she blinks it off the barest beginnings of tears cling to her lashes.

A dark blue handkerchief is held out in offering before she can even reach for her desk drawer.

“Here, just use this,” comes Adrian’s voice above her — that bare hint of concern he always seems to carry. The hallmark trait of the kindest of hearts.

“I don’t want to get mascara on it.”

“Nadya.”

“Okay, okay — fine.”

She half expects that to be that. Instead feels Adrian’s eyes on her while she takes delicate care and attention not to mess up her wingtip because it had taken a full hour that afternoon and sometimes a girl just has to be proud of a steady hand.

Only when she’s sure her hard work is spared does she look at her boss properly. Gives him a sheepish, ashamed smile because there’s no way he’s getting the dark smears out of silk. “I’ll buy you a new one?”

Because she’d go crazy if she doesn’t offer, and Adrian will humor her with a chuckle and a nod because he’s kind like that. But they both know he has half a dozen back at his loft and it doesn’t really matter. Even with all of his years of wealth he’s remained an admirable type of level-headed and frugal.

But he surprises her in pushing their usual witty banter aside, doesn’t just take the pocket square back but instead covers her hand with his. Only in his steady hold does she realize she’s shaking.

Where did that come from?

“Are you okay?” That tone should only be reserved for dire situations — like being chased through a secret museum by a crazed politician or when she caught on the news that the Grumpy Cat had passed away. Not for this.

She nods, lets him take the crumpled fabric and brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. A careful tactic many young girls learn early to hide their expressions for just long enough to steel them into cooperating.

“Of course I am —”

But of course he doesn’t let her finish. “You were crying.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“So what would you call that?”

“Seeing how long I can go without blinking.”

Okay she totally gets it if that does the exact opposite of putting him off the investigation because it’s a crappy excuse. One even she doesn’t believe. And it’s just crappy enough to convey the message I don’t want to talk about it.

He’s both silent and loud all at once. Says everything he needs to say in the slight furrow in his brow; the way the left side of his mouth is just a little pulled back.

You know you can tell me anything. You know I’m here for you. Adrian doesn’t say it because he doesn’t have to — because he knows she gets it. Risking your life sneaking into a vampire dungeon and taking on a pair of very weird recluse vamps does pretty well in establishing that you’d do anything for someone.

I know. Instead she smiles, pushes her chair back a little so she isn’t getting neck cramps looking at him. “How was the meeting?”

Its slow going to get him actually talking. He knows its a distraction tactic, doesn’t want to take away from the fact he walked in on her pretty much fully zonked out with tears in her eyes. Lucky for her the meeting went, quote, “better and more productive than thought possible,” and once they get out of the office tonight he can head down to the Shadow Den with only good news to give Jax. Lucky because it means she can keep up said tactic with question after question until he definitely can’t waste any more time, needs to make a few calls to this company and that contributor, and if she’s sure she’s okay and doesn’t need to take the rest of the night off then he’s going to go get that done.

Though he stops mid-stride into his office and that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. So close to getting away with it.

“Did you happen to mention to Lily about my idea for the memorial?”

The only reason she doesn’t exhale in audible relief is because it would put her right back at square one. “Yeah — and she agrees. She’s just waiting until after Halloween to bring it up to Mari in case Mari doesn’t agree.”

“Why would Halloween have anything to do with it?” Adrian asks, puzzled.

“Because it’s Halloween.”

“And?”

“‘And’ you’ve met Lily, right? Lily Spencer, my roommate? The girl who loves horror things more than life itself? Who definitely has something weird and probably kinky planned with hers and Mari’s couple costumes that I specifically begged her not to give me the details of?”

Yeah, her face at the time looked a little like Adrian’s does now. Neither of them prudish by any means but there are some things better left to the people involved and not their entire friend group.

“Of course. You’ll let me know though when she —”

“Relax,” she gives him an easy smile with a hidden meaning — he can relax about her too, “you’re overthinking it. Jax made you promise to make life better for the Clanless and you’re sticking to it because you believe in the cause. Even if they talk and decide they don’t want a plaque of names on the plaza fountain, that doesn’t devalue what you’re doing to help.”

Sometimes he just has to be reminded that what he’s doing is enough. More than, in Nadya’s opinion, but Adrian’s just… just a good person. And good people never think they’re doing enough.

And if what scraps Kamilah has given her over the months are any indication, Adrian isn’t entirely to blame for his self-sacrificing nature.

But their Maker is already taken care of. All she can do now is be there, be supportive, and help them heal the wounds Gaius gave them.

Now he’s the one looking a bit ashamed. “Thank you.” He means it more than mere language can provide. She knows that.

Leaves her alone with her work and her thoughts as he makes sure his office door is closed behind him like he always does when he’s going to be making calls. It’s probably the most normal profession-related thing they do together; give each other space when there’s real work that needs doing.

And her thoughts have been itching in wait for the chance to overwhelm her when they can. They try to needlessly, relentlessly. Teasing like a schoolyard bully — offering the things she can’t quite recall in a treasure chest at her feet before sending it slamming shut and to the depths of her mind before she can even catch a glimpse.

Thats the hardest part about these stupid visions of hers. They consume her mind and even sometimes her body — as evidenced by the zombie-Nadya that met Adrian following his return. They make her feel things she’s never felt and experience sensations, actions she’s never acted upon and for good reason.

No one should have to know what it feels like to slaughter hundreds, thousands of people — to keep the blood on their hands and not only that but savor it like a trophy — not when the very thought of hurting anyone at all sends their stomach into knots.

But thanks to them she has a body count and is still too meek to tell the midnight door guard that her name isn’t ‘Nadine.’

On a whole she forgot the details after the vision passed. At first.

But they want to be seen. They want to be remembered.

So Nadya does what she always does. Listens intently until she can hear Adrian dutifully on the phone in his office, makes sure the coast is clear before she digs into the hidden pocket in her purse — pulls out her dark secret and grabs for a pen.

She jots down all she can remember — which isn’t much this time, thank Christ — on the back of the entry she’d scribbled that morning before Kamilah could wake up and discover her shame. Pens in the date at the top corner and tucks the journal away without letting herself linger on just how full that terrible little book is getting.

At this rate she’ll need to start a new one before Christmas.

New York City, 1911

He doesn’t miss the look Kamilah gives him out of the corner of her eye. Nose crinkled and lashes heavy — repulsed with the thing between his lips and yet, almost as if against her will, made to recall other better things he had done with that same mouth.

His darling Queen abhors cigarettes, has told him as much in complaints of kisses that quickly turn into moans of desire, of satisfaction. Something about the smoke and memories of a history called ancient now — it was so long ago. Scrolls turned to ash and scattered to the winds; knowledge and lives lost together. But history cared about one of those things more than the other. Kamilah, too.

And so he stares back; tempts her to say something about it. If she really has such a problem with smoke then she’s in the wrong place.

Instead she turns her focus on the blackness still billowing up towards the night sky all these hours later.

“Is this…?”

“Yes.”

She snaps a sharp look his way. “And does Adrian know?”

Behind them a fire engine carriage goes ballistic with noise; the horses trapped in their harnesses despite their rearing, their whinnies high-pitched and filled with a familiar terror. Yet if one were to glance at the commotion they wouldn’t find the source of their startled fear. There are no snakes on the paved roads beneath their hooves. No whips lashing at them from the hands of overworked masters.

Gaius and Kamilah don’t have to look to know where their predator is.

He sucks on the filter of his cigarette heavy. “He does now.”

“Poor taste, my love.”

“A necessary evil.”

“Committed by an evil equally so?”

Gaius doesn’t have to breathe for her to know she’s spoken out of turn. She sees it in the shift of his stance. The way he decides he’s done with her attention for the moment and trains his eyes forward instead.

Families, friends, passersby are still mourning loudly at the fire and the lives it took.

His beloved Soldier now among them — jaw slack at the loss of human life. All these years and Gaius has yet to really beat that sentiment for the human condition out from under his skin. The wail his fellow vampires can hear even from their distance that grows with each second it takes to realize just which building caught on fire earlier that day, which floors were consumed in the blaze, and who was among them.

Adrian crumples to his knees in grief. Its a sight his Maker takes no pleasure in despite any — even his Queen — who might accuse otherwise. She knows better though — chooses not to start an argument already lost and rushes forward to console her brother in blood at his loss.

“It’s okay Adrian,” her lies carry on the wind with the rest of the remains of the factory blaze, “I’m so sorry for your loss, but we will endure. We always have.”

It pains Gaius to hear the crack in his Soldier’s voice when he musters the ability to speak; “She — Kamilah—I— she can’t be —”

But she was. She had been a distraction; an influence Gaius hadn’t approved of yet a reason for Adrian to commit heresy for still. The proof was right before his eyes — all that weakness bubbling just under the surface of Adrian’s skin now burst forth.

One day Adrian would understand he had done this for the best. For the greater good of their Kingdom.

Gaius tosses the remains of the cigarette aside — goes to grind it to a powder under his foot but another beats him to it. The boot is brown yet black with soot.

“You really ought to change, lest you be discovered and accused.”

“Accused of what?” lilts the vampire behind him, “a bad spark and scrap bin started the fire, or haven’t you been listening in on the police’s conclusions?”

Gaius looks passed the tall young man to where indeed a group of officials are gathered. They must think they’re speaking in hushed tones. Fools.

“A novel idea. Now they won’t be searching mindlessly for a suspect.”

“I wouldn’t care much if they did. We depart tonight for England.”

But he wouldn’t be making idle conversation if there was nothing important to say. Makes Gaius drag his eyes upwards to see himself reflected in spectacles diligently cleaned of evidence from their time sparking the very flames the Vampire King of New York needed to ensure Adrian’s loyalty stayed where it belonged. With him.

“Speak, if you have words.”

The vampire inhales deep. “I did as you asked. Now tell me what I need to hear.”

Because he can, because its fun, he feigns ignorance. “And what would that be, dear Cynbel?” And he quickly learns the Trinity’s temper is true to rumor.

“Tell me Valdas has your permission to leave this fucking cesspool!”

“Why would I wish for my oldest Child to leave my side — especially when my plans are nearly ready to be enacted?”

“Because I did as you asked for that sole purpose!”

It’s a struggle Gaius has never known; the desire to act but the bone-deep acceptance of a singular truth. That he can’t. He can’t attack Gaius; the progenitor of his beloved so-called deity. Not only in strength but in sheer force of will. There was a time, once… long ago when he knew he would never achieve the level of power, of love, that consumed him at the sight of the One who set him free…

But that was history that made ancient look newly born.

“I am a man of my word, even if Valdemaras is not,” he waves flippantly — bored now with those fools and their notions of eternal love, “he has my permission to leave.”

Cynbel visibly deflates. “Thank you, Godmaker.”

“Though I will expect more than a favor should you three wish to join my Kingdom when it comes time. I remember those who stay loyal.”

The younger vampire surprises him when he casts a look back to his charred masterpiece; to where Kamilah has taken knee beside Adrian in an attempt to shoulder some of his burden.

“I’ve seen the price that loyalty to you demands. A high price indeed.”

He’s smart — flees before his insolence earns him Gaius’ wrath. It doesn’t matter to him either way.

To have his Queen, his Soldier standing at his side and basking in the glory of his Kingdom? There is nothing he would not do.

Everything he does is for Her, still.

#bloodbound #bloodbound fanfiction #choices fanfiction #adrian raines #kamilah sayeed #gaius augustine #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #oc: cynbel #oblv: bound by destiny #oblv: drabble #; my fics

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jflashandclash · 4 years

Text

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Fidget Spinners VI

The Lord of the Underworld was almost exactly what Pax expected he would be: moody, dark, and evil-looking with a strong affinity for the color black. Or maybe it was the color “trapped soul.” Whatever it was, Hades liked it outlined in gold, probably to look more intimidating. He wore black robes and had a helm under one arm.

There was one major problem. He didn’t have blue fire for hair. Disney taught Pax that Hades was supposed to have blue fire hair and a great sense of humor. Disney had lied to him. This just looked like a rich, pasty white guy.

His black and gold chariot was spooky, but Pax had seen cooler ones. The one they were designing for Kronos was way better.

Axel was crazy enough to have his sword still drawn. In the presence of the Lord of the Underworld, with Hades’ squadron of geriatric dominatrixes, and some Halloween standees behind them, Pax’s brother set his jaw and kept hislips in a firm line. When asked later, Pax would say Axel didn’t shake once (and they would get a chance to be asked later; they were both surviving this, damn it.) Truth was, Pax’s presence seemed to weaken Axel’s resolve. Pax guessed it was real easy to get yourself killed when it was just you that would be doing the dying part.

Pax’s mind raced. One thing was certain: they weren’t fighting their way out of this.

Axel grunted when Pax pushed his sword hand down.

“Get out of here,” Axel hissed in Mayan.

Pax didn’t know how to explain to Axel that the invisibility spell over Pax was sparking and would attract a lot of attention if he tried to pick up Axel and flee. Pax didn’t get a chance.

Hades’ voice boomed and reverberated around the cavern more than Jack’s had. “You will not escape me this time, Perc—”

As his chariot ground to a halt, his dark eyes narrowed at Axel’s tiny form, then flicked back up to the furies. “This isn’t Percy Jackson.”

The furies had been fluttering in an intimidating circle above, like the most obnoxious of gnats. One landed beside Hades’ chariot, looking nervous. “We thought it was Luke Castellan, My Lord. Your rage and obsession over Jackson must have—”

Hades roared. He lashed out towards the Fury.

She took to the sky again, shrieking.

“Does this look like the host of Kronos?!” Hades bellowed, Pax thought, rather offensively. Axel could totally host Kronos if he wanted. “I’m not sure if I would rather strike Jackson or Castellan dead first.” His dark gaze returned back to Axel. “You’ll have to suffice.”

Pax wished the invisibility spell came with a sink-into-the-ground function. He trembled at the power radiating off this god, and knew, in that horrifying moment, that Axel was about to challenge Hades to a duel.

Pax’s mouth opened. He wasn’t sure what words would come out, but they would definitely be better than Axel’s, You wanna throw down?

“We’re lost,” Pax said.

Hades looked confused, clearly noting that Axel hadn’t opened his mouth.

Axel tensed.

No option for running now. Pax continued, feeling a few sparks above his head flutter down to singe he shoulder. He hoped that wasn’t burning holes in the invisibility spell. He might need it in a moment. “Yes, we’re lost,” Pax repeated. “We’re looking…” He grasped for anything that might baffle the Lord of the Dead. At those words, it popped into his head. “We’re looking… for Xibalba?” The comment came out a question.

Axel cleared his throat. “Yes,” he confirmed, glancing in Pax’s general direction without landing exactly on Pax. “We’re looking for Xibalba.” Robotically, Axel sheathed his sword.

Hades looked incredibly annoyed. “You are Mayan,” he said, examining Axel’s tufted ears with begrudging realization. “You’re not Greek at all.”

“Nope,” Axel confirmed. “My faith is in the Mayan gods and the Catholic Trinity.”

None of that was false. They had always practiced within the Mayan and Catholic faith. They knew Greek and Roman gods and hung out with them. Pax hardly called that faith or worship, no matter how often Morpheus liked to tease them as his little devotees when they slept-in with a rare, sweet dream. Axel scorned when anyone suggested he refer to the Titans as all powerful.

Hades pinched the ridge of his nose. “Who let you down here?”

“Um…” Axel said. He, Luke, and Jack must have slipped into the Underworld through a back entrance and didn’t know who to pin the blame on.

Pax had an immediate answer. “Charon,” he said.

“CHARON!” Hades bellowed.

Even Axel flinched as the cavern trembled with a minor earth quake. A stalactite fell and crashed into lines of the dead in the distance. They passed through, unharmed.

“First he has the audacity to ask for a pay raise, and now he’s letting heathens into my domain!” Hades yelled, “His impertinence knows no end! First his suits! And now his life coach that’s telling him how hard it is to find someone with his skill set!”

Although Axel probably couldn’t see Pax, the brothers knew to looks towards each other as though to exchange a glance.

“Is his skill set hard to find?” Axel asked.

“Yes!” Hades bellowed, “It’s nearly impossible to find a well-suited grim reaper.” Pax wanted to raise a hand to ask if Hades’ “well-suited” meant Charon’s outfit or skill set, but Hades cut him off. “But, you can’t let him know that. It goes straight to his head and now he thinks he’s irreplaceable. He forgets that one-in-a-billion is different than irreplaceable. How many people do you think die in a day!?”

Pax coughed into the back of his hand to keep himself from laughing. Was this guy for real? Most of his prior fear was evaporating. “Us heathens?” he reminded Hades.

“Yes, it has been an awfully long time since Charon flubbed and let savage barbarians into my domain—”

“Let’s stick with heathens,” Axel growled.

Pax had to agree. He remembered Alabaster once telling him something about how barbarian meant someone who wasn’t Hellenistic to the Greeks, but avoiding the adjective “savage,” was that too much to ask for?

“And now we have a leak in our ICEE unit. They should have caught you at the entrance,” Hades continued like Axel hadn’t spoken.

Had Pax heard that right? “ICEE? For real? As in—”

“Inhumation Correction to Exact Exequies,” Hades growled. “This is what you get when you let liberal arts majors name things. Regardless, they’re for the dead who were improperly processed after death. They’ll be able to sort a ghost and a…. are you some kind of spirit guide?”

The question didn’t sound sarcastic, just irritated. Pax’s mind raced, trying to think—

Pax decided to go with lying, a rarity with his normal half-truths. He forgot no one could see him while he shrugged. “He’s the weird one. All Mayan dead look like me.”

“Uh-hu…” a Fury somewhere above said doubtfully.

Pax stuck a tongue out at her and had the delightful realization that he could moon the Lord of the Dead right here, right now, in his own domain, and no one would know to stop him and there would assuredly be no repercussions.

That would also mean mooning the creepy dominatrixes in the sky. He decided he would pass up the opportunity to avoid that.

“We’re sorry to cause you such strife, Lord Death,” Axel said, holding up his hands in a mock-honoring gesture. “We can show ourselves out, really.”

“Likely,” Hades said. “Last time we had an ICEE mix up, there was SUCH ruckus and chaos. That einherji was terrible for our image!”

Axel frowned, his hands clenching into fists. “You know, not all misplaced souls are like that.”

“Yes, you try telling that the to Elysian Field occupants that had their houses torched and raided. All it takes is one and it devalues all the properties for miles!” Hades said.

Pax got the bad feeling that Axel was about to attack Hades regardless of their ruse. While warranted, Axel might really be a misplaced Mayan soul stuck in the Underworld’s immigration unit if he did.

Before Pax could say something to ease the mood, Hades leaned forward in his chariot. His hand curled around his black helm. His dark eyes bore down onto Axel.

Had Axel been a lesser man, he’d have probably crumbled to his knees with all that godliness trying to make him feel mortal. Pax definitely felt himself trembling. Instead, Axel stared back.

Hades pointed to Axel’s arm. “You tried to swim in the River Styx.” This time, when the Lord of the Underworld spoke, his oily voice was also filled with ice.

Axel lowered his arms completely. His burn marks had been on full display from where he’d withdrawn Luke from the dark waters and held his acidic friend.

Considering that probably wasn’t a popular tourist destination for a leisure dip, Pax could see where marks from it would be suspicious.

“Is that what your river is called?” Pax asked, trying to edge his voice with some mockery. “Our black river is the scorpion river. Dipping in it is part of our death ritual. You should check the pH balance of your scorpions. I think they’re off.” That most certainly was not part of their death ritual. Pax planned to stay as far away from the Black River as he could when we went to….

An existential panic threatened to break Pax’s concentration on the present. Would he end up in the Mayan afterlife or the Greek one? Or even the Catholic one? Others in Camp Othrys said it was based off belief, but what if you believed in all three? And what if Axel didn’t end up in the same one? Would paradise even be worth it if you couldn’t hang out with your bro?

The expression on Hades’ face brought Pax’s attention back. Those harsh lines hadn’t softened at Pax’s flubbed explanation. Hades was in the process of deciding he didn’t believe them and, probably, wondering which part of his robes he’d put the Pax brother’s souls into. Guy had some weird fetishes if he kept people’s souls in his robes and ladies with whips as his escorts. No wonder Persephone only stayed down here a few months out of the year.

They needed a distraction and they need one fast, something that would shock or offend Hades so much that he’d forget to toss them into his evil sock drawer and something that would startle Axel away from where his hand was creeping towards his sword hilt.

“Your helmet looks stupid,” Pax blurted.

That… that was not what they needed. But, Pax would make it work.

Before Hades eyes could bulge out of his head, his “WHAT” could shake apart the Underworld, or Axel could choke on his laughter, Pax continued, “I’m looking out for your best interests. It looks like your helm would look stupid on, and I wouldn’t want you looking stupid to other invisible spirits like myself. You see, us invisibles look visible to other invisibles. Haven’t you noticed that when you have your helm on?”

It was a huge gamble. Alabaster would have been able to tell Pax if that was stupid or not, according to mythology. At the moment, all Pax could remember was that it was a helm of invisibility. He couldn’t remember what other figures possessed this power.

Hades’ brow had furrowed in rage, his mouth agape like a rabid animal. In the briefest moment, Pax saw a glimmer of insecurity in those pits of eternal pain that Hades had for eyes.

Either Pax had already sentenced him and his brother to death or Hades needed the tiniest bit more coaxing before he cracked.

“I mean, I’m a Mayan. I’ll talk to you straight. How many Greeks would dare give you an honest opinion on this?” Pax said, so fast that he hoped others could keep the syllables separated. “Try asking one of your humble servants.”

The ghoul army behind him shuffled in nervous motion. The Furies seemed to fly higher.

“I trust my servants to be honest with me,” Hades snarled. He scowled up towards the Fury that had spotted their party; she hadn’t flown up fast enough. “Alekto.”

She seemed alarmed. “Yes, Master?” she said uncertainly.

“Does my helm look stupid when I’m wearing it?” Hades asked.

Her wing flapping grew so tentative, Pax thought that she might lose altitude. “Um…. Master, I cannot see it on you when you wear it. You’re invisible.”

Hades nostrils flared. “Of course you can’t,” he said, his voice bitter with suspicion.

Pax shrugged in a, what are you going to do?, gesture. Remembering that Hades couldn’t see him, he shoved Axel and hoped his older brother got the message.

“Underlings, am I right?” Axel asked. The words sounded unnatural from him. On the laundry list of things that made Axel passionately angry, the misuse of underpaid workers was one of them.

That didn’t matter to Hades. He examined his helmet so thoroughly, he probably hadn’t even heard Axel. Pax had cracked Hades’ confident demeanor with the tiniest hint of insecurity. Alekto’s hesitation was all Pax needed to convince the Lord of the Dead that there was a problem.

“Charon did give the design to the Elder Cyclopes during the First Titan War. It has always been a little too tight.” Hades lifted his helm and stared into the dark eye sockets. Pax was a little disappointed that the helmet didn’t turn Hades’ arm invisible when he stuck his hand inside to lift it up. Hades snorted. “Of course I would be the only god that needed measurements for my great weapon. Zeus and Poseidon get a bolt and a trident. Doesn’t matter if their henchmen are unreliable. You’d think with all those tailored suits, that Charon could take a proper measurement—”

Pax wanted to point out that Hades should be able to just change the size of his head. He was a GOD. That was the opposite of what Pax wanted Hades to think. Pax feigned a gasp, kicking his brother’s boot.

Instead of sharing Pax’s gasp, as he had hoped, Axel glared at him. His message was clear: get on with what you’re doing before you get us killed.

“Oh, you’ve never SEEN your helmet on yourself?” Pax said, sounding as aghast and offended as he could manage. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with not knowing whether or not you look like an idiot—”

Hades made a threatening growl.

Pax knew he couldn’t back down. “—and maybe telling Persephone that her husband lost his fashion sense after the SS uniform went out of style—”

“Those uniforms influenced dark fashion for years,” Hades said with pride.

“All villains admire that look. Clearly you know what you’re doing,” Pax agreed. “Maybe we just need someone to model your helmet for you, that way you can make adjustments to fit what you think is best, not Charon’s sloppy notes.”

“It would be nice to fix the sizing. And I could add some more skulls to it, if I were to have it fixed,” Hades mumbled, tilting the helm on its side.

“You’ll need someone who—I mean, no one could do your grand, imperial stance justice, but someone who would come close. You need a chiseled, manly-jawed model. Someone with an authoritarian stance...” Pax hummed like he was thinking. “Oh, the Furies won’t do. They’re ladies. And you don’t want someone who’s decomposed. They won’t be able to tell you if it would be comfortable with adjustments. What’s your head circumference?”

“37 in this form; 25 when I look more like the lesser race,” Hades said absently. He gestured towards Axel and Pax, clearly meaning, when I look mortal.

“Twenty-five!” Pax cried. He shoved Axel’s shoulder, so Axel stumbled a step forward. “A chiseled-jaw, authoritarian stance and a 25 inch head circumference—”

“No—” Axel hissed at Pax, but Pax knew it was already too late for him to properly protest.

“—that just so happens to fit my brother! What luck!” Pax had no idea if that would fit his brother’s head. He didn’t know many people who knew their own head circumference, let alone the head circumference of a relative. After they lived through this, he’d have to ask it of Axel. Then he could make him a, I Went to Hades and Only Got This Defective Helm of Darkness cap.

Hades’ eyes narrowed. They slid past the helm to the two of them. Pax had managed to usher them closer to Hades’ chariot. “Are you suggesting I put my most prized weapon atop your brother’s head?”

“I mean, if you have someone else to model it for you quickly, we don’t need to bother you.” Axel shot Pax a look.

Pax nodded sagely. “I’m sure you have lots of dashing heroes that aren’t decomposed and gross or incorporeal to help. I mean. We’re just right here. Passing through. And I happen to be someone who can see invisible things. I guess we could call up Hecate—augh. I forgot she betrayed you for the Titans.” Pax snapped his fingers like he was disappointed. “And Queen Persephone might not mind too much if you get some zombie brain junk on those beautiful, raven locks.”

Hades eyes widened enough that Pax thought the King of the Underworld might shoot lasers at him. Maybe Pax was pushing the line a bit too much.

“How would a Mayan know about Hecate and her betrayal?” Hades demanded.

“The Lords of the Dead gossip a lot,” Axel blurted. “You know how Lord Hun-Came gets when he’s been drinking and playing ball with Lord Vucub-Came.”

“This is why you only have one Lord of the Dead. Bureaucracy just means red tape and more time for courtly banter.[1] You can run a government so much easier when you’re a tyrant,” Hades said and sighed, like he’d been petitioned many times for a democratic underworld.

Axel rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Apparently, only when you have competent henchmen.”

Pax pinched his brother’s arm. They were close; he could feel it, especially since he almost felt bad for Hades. If Hades really thought it was easier to rule down here by himself, Pax wondered how lonely this guy got.

Pax wasn’t here to check on the underworld’s mental health though. “Why not surround us with a circle of guards. It’s not like we’re trained acrobats that can jump over people’s heads.” Axel snorted. Pax pinched his shoulder again. “And, we might as well help you. It’s the least we can do before you escort us to your ICEE unit.”

Hades considered this for a moment. His entourage shuffled in discomfort. The Furies might hit a stalactite if they flew any higher to avoid his wraith.

“Very well,” he said. “Guards!”

The shuffling grew louder as the warriors made a loose circle around him and his brother. Some of the spear tips got a little too close for comfort. They’d have to be careful avoiding those while escaping.

Hades motioned Axel forward.

The taller boy clenched his jaw. Pax was pretty sure the tension therein could shatter an entire frozen lake. While this was the perfect opportunity for Axel to get the sword equivalent of a sucker punch on Hades, Pax wanted to remind Axel that they probably couldn’t stab the Lord of the Dead, bid a “good day” to his army, and skip out of here down a black brick road. Pax swallowed, reminding himself that sucker punches were things that he did. His brother had some weird concept about something called honor? Pax normally ignored Axel when he talked about it.

Here came the hard part: getting Axel to kneel to accept the helm.

Axel leveled with Hades’ black chariot. Pax could feel the overwhelming power radiating off it and its master. Authority bled off this guy like creepiness from a spider, and Hades wanted Axel to bend to his will without having to be asked.

Axel, an idiot who bowed to no man nor god, cleared his throat. “Lord Hades, I believe you won’t be able to reach me from your chariot if I kneel.”

The comment was presumptuous and Pax thought Axel had blown all their improvisation quicker than a Star Trek Vulcan would ruin the atmosphere of the Renaissance festival. He waited for Hades’ fist to turn into a cartoon hammer and smash Axel into the black sand.

Instead, Hades growled, “Mayans are the first people to even think about that. Would my soldiers have said anything? No. They would have forced me to reach further down to get them.” Especially with how tall the god was, an extra four feet would be a lot to stoop.

The Lord of the Underworld lifted his hideous black helm above Axel’s tufted ears.

As the helm came down, it compressed Axel’s long, twisted hair. Or, Pax thought it did. When it made contact, the helm melted Axel.

Within a microsecond, the essence that was Axel had liquefied into shadow and flooded into the sands. There wasn’t even an indent where he’d been standing.

There was one major flaw in Pax’s plan. He actually couldn’t see his brother. And, in that moment, with Axel-fertilizer in the underworld’s black sand, Pax realized Axel and Pax might have been the ones who were just tricked.

***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :D Stay tuned next week to see what—well…. you can’t really see what Pax and Axel are doing. >>’‘

Anyway, stay safe and indoors!

***

Footnote:

[1] Ha ha. Courtly. Like a ball court…. I’ll show myself out.

#Tales from Mount Othrys #TFMO #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #Fidget Spinners #I injured my back in three different places this week. Further proof that staying in can be as dangerous as going out #And further proof that my body refuses to stay with its age group #People did always call me mature.....#anyway--stay safe guys

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letstalkaboutsebbaby · 5 years

Text

Anything Else Is Outside - Chapter 9

She wasn’t trying to get his attention. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. That’s what happens when there are no games to be played.

Summary: She wasn’t trying to get his attention. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. That’s what happens when there’s no games to be played.

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC (Harper Followill)

Warnings: sex, drug abuse and violence (just mentions)

-- This is for the adult clientele, if you’re under 18, stay away, please. --

Harper didn’t remember going to bed, but there’s where she wakes, alone. She goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face before venturing through the house looking for Chris. She found him in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Chris was distracted by the conversation and doesn’t hear her walking up to him until she hugs his waist from behind.

“Yeah mom, I have to go, ok? I’ll talk to you later.” He takes Harper’s hand in his a bring it to his lips, kissing it while his mother says something else. “I will, but I can’t promise anything. I’ll let you know. Love you.” He finishes the call, drop the phone at the counter and let go of her arms, turning around to look at her. “Good morning, gorgeous, did you sleep ok?” he kisses her lips quickly and softly.

“Yes. Although I don’t remember going to sleep..”

“You fell asleep while I was singing to you, so I put you to bed. I slept in the guest bedroom”

“You should have woken me up and I would have gone to the guest bedroom”

“I didn’t want anyone to be in the guest bedroom, but you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you up to ask if it was okay to sleep together.”

“Well, for the record, it is. But I hope I’m not gonna fall asleep on you again. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, you were tired. I made us breakfast, are you hungry?” He turns back to the stove and moves the frying pan to the table, motioning with his head for her to sit.

“Yes, what do we have?” Harper sits and is impressed to see the table was set beautifully and there’s a white rose on her plate.

“Eggs, bacon and this oat bread that my sister made”

She sniffs the flower and smiles at him. “Thank you”

“You’re welcome. In this jar, we have orange juice but there’s a coffee machine if you prefer”

“Juice is great. You know, I was thinking about the trip to Utah...I probably won’t be able to buy a ticket on your flight, but I have to buy soon anyway so we can plan everything, or I’ll be homeless after you leave”

“First of all, I wouldn’t leave you alone if it was the case, but we’ll be going in a private jet. As I said, some friends are coming along and it would be less problematic to go this way.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“It’s not something I do often...” Chris tries to explain, but she interrupts him “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not judging at all. I just forgot you’re you for a moment. I know how hard it can be, Chris, I see it every day”

“I forgot you’re used to this things…”

“Yep. There’s nothing wrong on using the perks of fame. Especially when no one cares about the times you feel used.”

Chris wanted to jump in her lap and kiss her, cause he knows she’s not devaluing his feelings as rich people drama. She lives in this environment, she deals with her cousin’s wins and problems and is capable of understanding some of his conflicts from a different point of view. Usually, his girlfriends stand at the same position as him, with their own clashes with fame and expectations. Harper is the bystander, the confidant.

“Why are you so silent?” she asks looking intently to his eyes. She has such an outspoken behavior, sweet and honest he feels compelled to give her the same courtesy, and this interaction is so natural that he doesn’t even think about his answers.

“As sexually and romantically attracted to you I may be, this right here is what makes this different. When you say something I know is exactly what crossed your mind and not some attempt to entice or fish for the right answer. And my reply is so unstrained that it gets to my lips before I have the chance to analyze myself. And believe me, I’m tired of analyzing myself.”

“I’m glad you feel like that, Chris. I’m truly comfortable with you. But I have to say this sound like friend zone talk” he stands and goes to her side, holding her hands and getting her on her feet “No no no. I just said I’m sexually and romantically attracted to you! No friend zone at all, you’re hot as hell”.

She laughs “I’m kidding, you meatball! Just fishing for the right answer” Harper hugs him, her arms sliding over his neck, and he pretends to be outraged with her jest but ends up laughing and hugging her back. “How was your night, handsome?” he kisses her “It took some time to fall asleep...it was both nice and miserable to know you were so close”.

After eating for some minutes, she asks “What are your plans for today?”

“I need to finish packing and make some arrangements with my friends about tomorrow. But other than that I just want to be with you.” He kisses her and she leaps in his body, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Be with me then, take me to bed” he kisses her and goes to the bedroom, dropping Harper at his bed.

“Go get some condoms, Chris.”

“Oh, babe, there’s a long time until we need them...stay still and let me take care of you” he lay beside her and starts to kiss her neck. While Chris’ hands trail over the outside of her legs, Harper’s ran through his hair, one of them sliding till it reaches his chest. The feel of his muscles and the thud of his heartbeat stimulating her passion.

Chris' hands travel lower to cup her ass and he grunts against her lips “So delicious” he starts to move down towards her waist, lifting her shirt to kiss her navel. “You’re so smooth…can I take this off?” he says holding her shirt, to what she nods. He lifts it out of her body and resumes kissing her stomach.

Harper tilts her head back and deeper into the pillows when she feels him kissing his way to her breasts. She knows he’s trying to learn her body reactions and finds it adoring. “Take everything off, Chris” he does exactly that, starting from her bra and moving to her jeans and panties. “Fuck, this is perfect...you look perfect”.

He takes his time to worship her body, kissing her skin and licking, sucking...he wants to devour her. The sounds she makes are a great incentive and he touches her all over till she can’t take any more “Please, stop teasing, I want you so much, Chris”.

“You’re so wet” he feels her nod and moan when he capture a nipple between his lips. Harper pulls him closer by the neck and kisses him “So fucking sexy, babe. Will you come for me?” she whines and feels her body clenching when he slides his finger inside her, moving her hips trying to get him deeper, to make him rub against her more. “You’re so flushed, so hot...god, touch my dick, feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want to fuck you” he grasps her hand and brings it to his dick, still inside his sweatpants.

To touch him makes her even hornier. Chris is hard and thick, making her imagine how it would feel when he’s inside her. “Please, please” she begs, gently squeezing it. He bites her lips and sped up the pumping of his fingers on her pussy. “Do you like it? Hm? Do you want it? Want it inside of you? Cum for me and I’ll fuck you babe” and she does, spasming around his fingers. “That’s it babe, so fucking pretty…” He kisses her deeply and smiles at the satisfied noises she makes.

“Why I’m naked while you’re fully clothed, Chris?” he giggles and kisses her again.

“What do you say we take that shower for two you wanted yesterday?”

@jamierdr @symonlyjen5

#anything else is outside #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #Chris Evans #chris evans x original female character #smut #my fic #my fics #fanfition

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lifeprotologism · 4 years

Text

The bond I believed to be our connection

The beginning. A period of sweet, honeymoon like idealization. She put me on a pedestal. I was sure this type of love didn’t exist and never felt anything like this before. Oh the compliments, flattering, gifts that is their right to give you and you’re the center of their small world. It was a promise of forever, believing in us.

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

So blinded in love, ready to tell the world about her. Yes, she left clues and red flags but I was too busy loving her and ignore it all simply because I hadn’t felt this good about anything in years. No ones ever treated me this good. I always held everyone together and didn’t really feel important. Her interest in my work, studies, Yuvaan, fears, insecurities, all my secrets, she wanted to know everything about me. I’ve never felt this close to anyone. She spoke about her feelings and her journey.

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍.

When did she suddenly start calling me fat, obese, morbidly obese? When did all insecurities come in conversations? slowly breaking me down and making me feel lesser than her ex. She knew about my cancer and wished me dead, my son and said I was terrible and didn’t spend time with him, when did everything about me become a problem? When did I start to feel so little about myself and when did her opinion suddenly mean the most? She told me not to talk to random people as I was attention seeking, not to wear a nightie, not to talk to anyone, move - so I started tucking away myself. I curved in.

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

I was in Darwin. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person who looked back at me. Dark circles around my eyes, tears, I liked nothing about myself anymore. I wished I was dead! I couldn’t make her happy anymore. And why? Why didn’t I just walk away when it all started going south? Why, I asked myself?

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎.

It was not just one bad day, it was a slow, gradual process of devaluing me. She didn’t want to be with me, her ex had a better body, she wouldn’t leave her ex, I was ugly and a bitch! No one wanted me! Over and over I heard! I was blocked! No one heard me. When did she stop loving me? Where was I you wrong. Why would she say, if i only loved her more, if I were a better partner, this wouldn’t happen. If I listened to her, respected her, understood where she was coming from. Why was all this hurting me if she loved me?

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛.

I tried harder. Told my family, parents stopped talking to me. Ignored my son. Stuck on my phone, waiting for her message. I had to be available immediately. I gave it my all. Every ounce of me was invested into making her happy until i had absolutely nothing left for Yuvaan or me or anyone. No love. No self respect. Nothing.

𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍.

After India, I was ready to walk away, when i had just enough to break, she started to plead again. She pretended she wanted to make it up to me and she was sorry for what all had happened. She promised she would never psychically abuse me, she said she would never hurt me again. She said I was smart and I’ll get another job, I was beautiful and all she wants to do is make up to me.

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎.

Psychologically speaking, this is how my trauma bond was created. This was real, and very addictive cycle. I kept going back to her when I didn’t want to for more abuse, I started begging her, apologized for her behavior, craved to pleasing her and getting that love back, her approval back. She became my need, my core and even when I knew, she did me wrong and it led me away from her, I profoundly apologized. I didn’t need her in my life but I couldn’t imagine a life without her. I was going crazy!

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝.

I’ve spent three years waiting. Waiting for her to change. Waiting for the kindness to show. Waiting for the right time to talk to her. She said I never gave her a fair go, but I did. Even after, I gave her three years and more to find something in us that is worth fighting for but her lonely could only be fixed by her ex. She had nothing left for me.

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚎r air - 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛

Its a constant battle everyday to remind myself that I can be loved, that I’m not a beast she said I was, that I am kind soul. It’s been a struggle to get through depression and find myself in a world that no longer felt familiar. It’s been a struggle to rebuilt relationships, face the embarrassment I caused and take accountability of my actions that hurt others. It’s been a constant battle to understand who I have become and what does happiness means to me now.

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sweetiepie08 · 5 years

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⭐ FOR CONFIDANTE PLEASE!! -blackaquokat popping in from offline

Hi, thanks for the ask. Not choosing a specific topic has left me with a bit too much freedom, though. Rather than chosing a single scene, I’m going to analyze something that runs throughout the whole fic

Clopin & Noelle and their differing views of their own relationship.

What makes writing Clopin & Noelle’s relationship so satisfying for me is that they are very different people who, at their core, are actually very similar. Their differences are easy to spot. Noelle has a very analytical mind and deals better with facts and numbers. (Much better than she does with messy feelings) In a modern au, she’d have spent her school days studying to perfection, making sure she retained her position at the top of the class. Clopin, on the other hand, has a poetic soul. Absolutes bore him. He’d have much more fun sorting through something messy himself and make it beautiful in his own way than he would if he were given a clear, but inflexible, set of instructions. (Naturally, in a modern au, this would make putting together IKEA furniture an infuriating experience for the both of them.)

Clopin & Noelle’s different personalities, upbringing, and station in society shaped the way they view their relationship.

We’ll start with Noelle, who is the one more likely of the two to recognize the obstacles in their relationship, or at least acknowledge them. She a realist. She sees things the way they are and is more likely to work within the perimeters she’s given. That’s not to say she doesn’t recognize when those perimeters are bullshit (racism, classism, sexism, ect.), but she doesn’t usually a way around them. To her, these are things in the world she has to deal with, not things she can change. The fact that she loves Clopin doesn’t change these external things and so, in her mind, they can never truly be together the way they want. The way she feels about that doesn’t change anything either, so she might as well push that useless pain down where neither she, nor anyone else, needs to deal with it.

Another difference is that Noelle harbors a great deal of guilt over their relationship which Clopin does not. Her tendency to push her emotions down steams from her tendency to devalue her own needs. There are times when she won’t get enough sleep or enough to eat because there is work that needs done. If she isn’t producing a tangible result, then she’d wasting time. This also mean she devalues her emotional needs. Her feelings are hers to deal with and she doesn’t need to burden anyone else by talking about them. Emotional support? Comfort? Love? Those are greedy things to ask for, even from someone who would happily give them to her. The thing is, she still wants them and Clopin knows her well enough to know when she’s in need, so she accepts and then feels guilty for accepting. She knows Clopin could be spending his time and energy on people who need it more. Any time he spends on her is time he could be spending on something more important, so it is selfish of her to accept his help, even if he’s the one offering.

The last difference I’m going to touch on is Noelle’s fears about the relationship. One this she and Noelle have in common is a fear of losing each other. However, the nature of this fear is where they differ. Noelle is well aware of the dangerous life Clopin leads. He is a leader, responsible for the lives of so many people, and he often has to put himself in risky situations to protect those people. That is on top of the prejudices he faces every day. Noelle’s biggest fear is that one day, someone will come in to her inn and inform her that Clopin’s been killed. His bright, brilliant light would be snuffed out, and she could do nothing to prevent it. To add to her grief, she would have to go on as if nothing had happened. Their love is a secret, after all, and as far as the majority of the population Paris knows, they’ve never even associated with each other. She couldn’t morn him, at least not openly. Her immediate family is gone. She is close with her cousin, Faye, but Faye has a family and a business of her own to worry about. She deliberately isolated herself to keep the inn’s status as a safehouse a secret. She’d have no one to lean on. Without Clopin, she is alone.

What she truly wants is to keep him safe. When he is out in the world, she is helpless to protect him, so she’ll compensate with the things she can control. The last thing she wants is to see him hurt and she’ll do anything to keep that from happening. If that means keeping him hidden for a night, fine. If that means lying to Frollo’s face without so much as batting an eye, she’ll do it. If that means breaking off their affair to keep anyone from using it as leverage against him, she’ll do that to, because his safety is far more important than her love.

Now, Clopin sees things differently than her. She is a realist, but he is closer to an idealist. That’s not to say he doesn’t know the obstacles that stand in their way, but he is more preoccupied with the fact that they shouldn’t be there at all. The main thing standing in their way is that they’re different races and this is medieval times. If people weren’t so racist, they wouldn’t have a problem with interracial love. And really, why should anyone care what two consenting adults do with their own love lives anyway? If he loves her, and she loves him, and they both want the same thing, they should be together. Why should anyone else get a say? This is his relationship. Not yours! Not yours! Noelle’s, but not yours! You don’t get a say in who he loves! Noelle might, but nobody else!

Where Noelle feels guilt, Clopin feels anger. While he might feel some guilt, thinking about Noelle when he should be focusing on his people, he in mostly angry at the injustice of it all. Things shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t have to choose between loving Noelle and loving his people. There’s room in his heart for both...just not hours in a day. But he shouldn’t need to protect them anyway. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have to choose…But it wasn’t a perfect world. It was, in fact, a deeply flawed world. Noelle was an unmarried woman and she was old enough for this to be strange. People already talked about her. She was already being written off as a shrewish spinster who no man wanted. They were fools, all of them. How could they not notice what an incredible woman lived among them? But that didn’t change the way things were. If anyone found out about them, at the very least it would tarnish her reputation further. So, he respected her boundaries. They kept their love confined to her bedroom and never let on anywhere else. In the end, it’s just another injustice they have to face.

Like Noelle, his greatest fear is losing her. What’s worse, he’s afraid of being the cause of her downfall. He’s aware of how much he asks of her, how much danger she puts herself in for him. He wouldn’t ask if it weren’t necessary, but it is. He tries to repay her however he can. He tries to put a smile on her face, bring joy to her eyes, give her all the love and support she deserves. He’d be happy to share all he has with her, to spend his days with her, to shout his love for her from the rooftops. But he can’t, because he is dangerous for her to be around. If she ever went down, it’d be because of him, and if he’s going to feel guilty about anything, it’ll be about that. However, if anything were to happen to her, he at least has people around him to support him. He’d at least have people who would know why he is grieving and help him through it. He still has his uncle and lots of cousins and friends. If she died, he’d be able to tell them everything and they’d at least understand how much he loved her.

Really all he wants for her to feel happy and loved. He wants to show her she’s not alone. She doesn’t have to face everything alone. She is worth being loved and protected and cared for. Does she know? She knows he loves her at least. He tries to make sure of that, even if she does brush him aside and push him away. If they could just be together without fear, he’d show her endlessly how much he loves her.

So, why do they love each other despite their difficulties? Because at their core, they are very similar and their differences bring out the best in each other. They are both protective of those they love. They both value intelligence and challenging their minds. They are both generous with their time, energy, and resources to those who need & deserve it. Their differences push each other to be their best selves. Noelle pushes Clopin harder when he’s tempted to rest on his laurels. Clopin reminds Noelle it’s okay to relax and take care of herself every once in a while. Noelle encourages him to analyze a situation while he encourages her to think outside the box. In many ways, they fill in each other’s gaps.

This is kind of why I want to write a modern au of these two. For one thing they’d be much happier. They’d have fewer restrictions placed on them which would allow them to be together and pursue passions that are uniquely their own. I want to write about little Clopin & Noelle talking for hours on the phone and getting supremely embarrassed when they realize one of their siblings has been listening in. I want Noelle pushing Clopin to study for exams because “I know your grades are already fine but just think how much better they’d be if you studied!” but in the end having to bribe him with movie dates. I want Clopin to drag her away for a surprise date, because she’s been stressing herself too much and she needs a break. I want Clopin recording his first film analysis video and Noelle watching in awe as he speaks intelligently and eloquently about a subject she doesn’t naturally get. I want Noelle speaking with morbid glee about the absurdity of the Cadaver Synod and Clopin just watching the spark in her eyes and thinking about how much he loves her.

Someday, Noelle and Clopin will be together and happy, but they’ve still got some more hardships to endure before that happens.

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lostinletoland · 5 years

Text

Bright Lights - Part Seventeen

Part Sixteen

Masterlist

Sophia’s POV:

The ride from the restaurant to my apartment was tense. A part of me felt bad for pushing him away, but right now hurtful memories invaded my mind and I needed some space or that was what I thought. I knew I would have to provide an explanation to Jared, but I felt mentally drained and didn’t feel like talking.

I let out a sigh once we were already in my bedroom, I was feeling like I had the longest day ever. After waiting impatiently all day to see my man again, came the unexpected news: I would have to move to the States. After that was my date with Jared and his little games, and the odd encounter with Nicolas was like rubbing salt in an old wound.

“Jared… I know we should talk about what happened, but I just want to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?” I said as I began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Sure, do you want a massage before bed?” Jared asked tenderly mimicking me and undressing himself.

“Would you stop being so nice?” I spat angrily, although I wasn’t angry with him, but it was the burnout the one who spoke. “Sorry,” I apologized immediately. “I just want to sleep.” I repeated.

“Fine.” Jared replied dryly. Instantly I felt terrible for being rude with him, since my problems weren’t his fault, but my frustration brought out the best of me.

Tomorrow would be a big day; I would be immersing myself into his life, completely. The best thing we could do right now, would be to have a good night’s rest. Without saying another word we went to bed, and unlike the previous times we had shared a bed, this time we didn’t snuggled.

I woke up suddenly, panting. A thin layer of sweat covered my nervous body; I felt suffocated and needed fresh air. The nightmare I had seemed terribly real, it looked like I was trapped again in Nicolas’ cage. I sat on the bed and saw it was three in the morning, and Jared was sleeping peacefully by my side. Despite the anguish I felt I couldn’t help but smile at seeing him sleep. He was on his stomach, and his lips were slightly parted, I even heard a slight snore: it was adorable.

I got out of bed and grabbed Jared’s shirt, the one he had worn the day before and was in a chair. After smelling it, I took off my nightie and put his shirt on. Wearing his clothes made me feel safe and comfortable as if he was hugging me. And although last night I bluntly refused his affection, the truth was that I desired it.

I was about to leave the room when I heard my name. “Sophia…” Jared’s sleepy voice made me stop my moves and turn around again. “What are you doing?” I perceived his silhouette moving on the bed, and then he sat leaning on the headboard.

“I can’t sleep. I had this terrible dream…” My voice sounded shakier than I expected.

“Come here, beauty.” I overheard Jared patting the mattress before turning the bedside light on. I went to the bed and sat next to him without hesitation this time. Jared’s arms immediately covered my body and placed me on his lap. We were face to face now and I was straddling him.

“Jared, I’m sorry for being mean earlier.” These were my first words once I was feeling secure in his fond embrace.

“Don’t worry,” Jared said as he tenderly caressed my hair. “do you want to talk about yesterday or your nightmare?” I shut my eyes and nodded.

“Well… 6 years ago when I was 24, I started working in a company. It was an excellent opportunity for me, you know? One day I met Nick in a cafeteria, and we started to hang out together, after a while I thought we were kinda dating. He seemed good.” I made a pause when a shiver ran over my body, now I knew he was anything but good. Jared’s thumb had stroked my cheek before I continued with my explanation.

“After a couple of months, I found out he was my boss and I was working really hard to develop my own career. I didn’t have a lot of feelings for him and thought the best for me was end the relationship because I didn’t want to be romantically involved with my boss and my work was devalued…” I looked into Jared’s eyes and saw something I would describe as anxiety? I wasn’t sure, but he seemed uneasy with my last statement.

“You told him? What happened?” He asked as I took a deep breath before narrating the unpleasant part of the story. My hands that were around his neck began trembling; the memory was so vivid in my mind that it still caused me angst. Jared was tenderly rubbing my back as I spoke.

“Yes, I did. And then he showed his true colors. Long story short, he likes to manipulate people to feel superior or some shit like that.” I was feeling my eyes became watery, I was going to explain my nightmare in a few seconds. “And when I told him, he didn’t take it well and blackmailed me. Apparently, he…”

“What?!” Jared disgustedly exclaimed and his body tensed, and his hands stopped his actions on my hips. I knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear; my wobbly palms were now resting on his naked chest trying to keep him calm even if I was a mess.

“Try to stay calm, Jared. Please let me finish…” He nodded when my voice cracked and tried to suppress a sob. “He is a pervert. He was blackmailing me with a video of one of our sexual encounters… I couldn’t believe it at first, I thought he was just bluffing. B-But then…” My tears were already running down my face. “Then he showed me part of the sex tape and used it to keep our sex relation. Every time I tried to get away from Nicolas, he played dirty. Reminding me that he’d tell everyone I sleep with the boss and they wouldn’t value my effort. He knew that was important for me and was beneficing himself…”

His sky-blue eyes were darker now, I could tell he was furious because the veins below his right eye were visible. But his actions were gently and that’s what I needed: Jared wiped my tears from my cheeks before hugging me completely. I rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped me.

“How did you get out of there?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Eventually he got bored and found another girl to play with. It’s his thing…” I shrugged siting back and looking at him. “But I was a year or so under his blackmailing, it was horrible. Then I looked for a job on another agency. That’s why I was acting awkward when we encountered him. And I feel like I ruined our night, sorry…” I whispered closing my eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be sorry, beauty. It wasn’t your fault…” Jared hands were both sides of my face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He placed a gently kiss over my nose. “But I swear I want to kick Nicolas ass right now.” His voice was tinged with anger. I put my index finger on his sensual lips to shut him down.

I was feeling much better now, I had the opportunity to tell him the truth and I took a load off. And the libido that had disappeared hours earlier was starting to reappear. Having Jared shirtless in front of me and with some of his veins more visible made him extremely inviting. I brought my eager lips to his neck and planted an open-mouthed kiss there. “Can we play now?” I whispered in his ear.

“Wait, wait. I have to tell you something.” Jared stopped me grabbing my shoulders.

“What?” I asked confused looking at him.

“I think I have to be honest with you after what you’ve told me.” He was serious, whatever he wanted to say was a big deal. I lifted my eyebrows and nodded. “I don’t want you to feel you are in this situation again, it would be best if you know the truth from the beginning…”

“What truth?” I didn’t quite know what he was talking about.

“Do you remember that during dinner you told me that you received an offer from a guy named Bartholomew Cubbins to redesign his house?” Jared seemed nervous as he was carefully formulating the question.

“Yeeesss… why?” I bit my lip unsure of where he was going with this whole thing.

“Well, I’m that guy.” My heart skipped a beat when those words filled the air.

~ To be continued ~

Author’s note: Thank you for reading! 💙💜 Did you like the chapter? Now you know more about Sophie's past. Tell me anything, for example: which was your favorite part, or what do you imagine will happen now. Tag list is always open :3

Tagging: @nikkitasevoli @msroxyblog @burritoverload

#bright lights #bright lights part seventeen #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fiction #jared leto

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