#Americans are big weird I’m sorry

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ

pt.1 here pt.3 here

these are just some of my silly headcannons on how i think hq characters would act and what stereotypes they would be at an american highschool (as an american highschooler ☝️🤓)

characters: kuroo, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, oikawa, iwaizumi

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

kuroo

literally the biggest nerd but sm girls crush on him

the type of guy you gotta hit your friends with the “hear me out” before you say he’s cute

kind of annoying and cocky about his intelligence but ppl still like him

gets real creative about his insults towards ugly people

wears cringey dad graphic tees bc he has no style

crunchy coughs in class a lil too often….

has the oldest most beat up car on the planet like it’s a safety hazard driving that thing

always smells really weird like cigarettes or something despite not smoking a day in his life

debate club.

his note books have like water stains and the covers are like torn apart and look like they were used as a shield during a war

offers all his friends rides but is such a scary driver

makes fun of ppl “lovingly” but he’s lowkey a bully

jokingly owns a minecraft hoodie he bought from the kids section and it’s SO TIGHT it’s a crime to wear that out with his big self

kenma

wears the same clothes multiple days in a row, he don’t gaf he probably slept in ts too 😭

probably doesn’t really smell bad, just kind of…. moist? marinated?

his hair is probably really greasy sometimes

always brings some type of gaming console to school and plays during lunch and during any free time he has

sneaks his phone when he isn’t supposed to and has never been caught

for some reason he sits with cool people despite NEVER talking during class and never going out of his way to make friends (kuroo forces him to hang out with his friends)

raged at his game super loud in class one time and got so embarrassed he begged his counselor to take him out of that class

his grades are ok for someone who never studies or even really pays attention

some of his teachers have gone entire school years without ever remembering his name

has the best comebacks to everyone, he is not afraid to clock you

bokuto

drives the biggest jeep or like ford bronco ever and is actually a decent driver

his parking is TERRIBLE though and he never bothers to fix it

probably would play football (i’m sorry guys) and is constantly at risk of getting kicked off the team for his grades

akaashi helps him study to stay on the team

genuinely the biggest himbo, a bunch of the girls think he’s adorable but he never gets the hint

posts silly gym selfies on his story

book bag has like 1 notebook in it, maybe a pencil if he’s lucky

teachers secretly love him (but not enough to pass him)

i feel like he’d also try and join the swim team for some reason

i feel like he’d eat burger king for lunch :,(

girls confide in him with their drama even though he gives no helpful feedback or advice and just occasionally gasps and goes “no way”

has the most cracked iphone screen on the planet

akaashi

probably taking like half honors classes or AP (idk how it works i’m not at a regular high school sorry guys </3)

gets school iced coffee for breakfast

takes super good and detailed notes and helps bokuto despite being a lower grade

wears the funkiest outfits but girls still think he’s cute

no girls talk to him though because he’s so quiet

always has at least 1 airpod in

sells pics of his notes

sometimes goes off campus for lunch with bokuto, but refuses to eat burger king

other days he probably has salad for lunch

probably in like orchestra but never carries his instrument in the halls bc he thinks it’s embarrassing

bokuto is loud af cheering him on when they have concerts

also sneaks his phone during class but got caught one time and now he’s kind of too scared to use it

iwaizumi

wears those tight work out shirts to show off his muscles

probably drinks like protein drinks in class

has the biggest water bottle ever like bro drinks a gallon of water every period

has a SUPER old iphone or like an android he refuses to upgrade because it gets the job done

always posting about his gains

probably crashed his car and his bumper is like hanging off his car

in like a weight lifting or body building club and is probably the leader of said club

he and oikawa are a very popular duo

occasionally skips class if he ever just doesn’t feel like going

his notes are so vague and short yet he understands and remembers everything he wrote

his grades are insanely good too

literally only wears sports clothing

uses really good smelling cologne but since he’s so active there’s always a hint of must from all the sweat :,(

oikawa

man hoe

he has been in just about every girls dms at some point

his grades are like, okay? he’s not failing

does stuff for female validation, like ik if he had a cat he’d be posting it on his story constantly and like flexing his hand veins

drives a bmw

if he’s actually in a relationship, he’s super loyal tho

his teachers kinda hate him

still uses snapchat and his snap score is like 500k

has decent fashion but dresses mildly gay at the same time

people constantly make jokes abt him and iwa being gay and he gets so mad (maybe he’s projecting idk)

smells a little like vanilla

he and iwa get in n out for lunch and eat in his car

[noellawrites]

Distance - dark!Sonny Carisi x sibling!reader

summary: your big brother Sonny comes home to visit and finds he has a lot to catch up on.

warnings: incest (kissing and touching), forced touching

notes: reader is gender neutral/no gendered terms, although ‘sweetheart’, ‘kid’, ‘kiddo’ and ‘baby’ are all used as terms of endearment.

requested by and written for @rafaslittleboy ❤️

----

You usually kept your distance from your older brother. It was easy most of the time. He had a busy job as an ADA, a girlfriend (whom you didn't like) and her kids in the mix, not to mention the two of you living in completely different boroughs.

Deep down, there was one reason above all others, though. You both loved each other... in a way that wasn't normal for siblings.

When the holidays came around, it was unavoidable. Your siblings brought their kids or step-kids or husbands or partners and you were always just there, alone, listening to your Italian-American family get louder and louder as the night progressed.

And today was definitely not an exception.

The whole family was home celebrating your parents’ wedding anniversary. It was different from the typical family holidays where everyone and their own families came, sharing sleeping bags and blow up mattresses.

"(y/n), are there any boys or girls we should know about?” Gina’s voice cut through the room as the rest of your sisters and your brother turned around to watch your reaction closely. Your family was quite protective and romantic relationships were no exception. You and Bella still talk about how much you hate Amanda behind her back.

“No, I’m not really into the dating scene. I’m too busy with school and work,” you explain. Everyone nods in understanding and goes back to their conversations. All but Sonny, whose gaze lingers on you for another moment.

After dinner, you take a seat on the couch next to your niece, Mia, who was basically the same age as you so it felt weird calling her your niece. Amanda's kids somehow still hadn't run out of energy, so they were running around the kitchen and dining room. You said a silent prayer for your ma's china cabinet.

You nodded along deftly to the discussion, which had recently descended into an argument about having a family vacation next summer. It got hard to fake your interest after a while, so you decided to excuse yourself and go upstairs.

Checking your phone, you realized how late it was. You hoped to god that Amanda wouldn't be staying over. The last time that happened, you had to sleep on the couch while her two daughters got to sleep in your bed.

You crept into Sonny's childhood room, relics of his past still gracing the walls. Old sports trophies, stuffed animals, old toys.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a large book peeking out of his bookshelf. You remembered this vividly: it was one of the Carisi family photo albums.

You inch it off of the shelf and carry it over to Sonny's bed, sitting down on it while flipping open the photo book.

You skimmed through pictures of him as an altar server at your family's church, school field trips, pictures from the Police Academy, old girlfriends, family vacations.

And then you came to the page. The very first image was your mother holding her small bump, looking old and exhausted, pregnant at almost fifty. A twenty-three year old Sonny with his arms around her. You kept flipping. A messy-haired Sonny holding his little infant sibling and looking so proud.

You thought looking through the photos would help you realize how wrong you felt, but the lump in your throat grew. There were so many more photos of you and Sonny.

“Hey kid, what’cha doin’?”

Your heart banged in your chest and you turned your head, seeing your brother leaning against the doorframe.

“I-I’m sorry, Sonny—“ you said, hurriedly shutting the photo album and setting it on the floor.

“Nah, don’t be sorry. I look at ‘em sometimes too, feels like just yesterday I was holdin’ ‘ya in my arms,” he smiles, walking over and sitting next to you on his bed.

Your bodies draw into each other and you instinctively lean into his chest. There was something so special about your big brother, so much comfort in the fact that he’s always been there for you.

“I’m happy ‘ya home, kiddo. I miss seein’ ‘ya,” he smiles, ruffling your hair.

“I miss seeing you too. It’s not the same, living without my big brother,” you sigh.

You look up at your brother. Since he’d been promoted to detective and sent to Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit, you’ve noticed changes in him.

“I miss 'ya too, but it won't be too bad, me livin' in Manhattan. 'Ya always welcome to come 'n stay, kiddo," he says, and you nod, giving him a tight smile.

As you lean back into his chest, you feel his fingers tracing lower, lingering past your waist, in a move disguised as comfort.

"'Ya body's changed a lot since I last saw 'ya. Lookin' real good, kid. Really growin' up," he hums.

A soft blush rises up your cheeks. “That’s what happens when you’re too busy with work to come visit us,” you nudge playfully.

“I’m gonna change that, kiddo. I’m gonna be ‘round here a lot more, gonna make sure I ain’t missin’ nothin’,” he reassures.

You turn and press your face into the soft fabric of Sonny’s dress shirt, inhaling the smell of his woodsy cologne and bergamot laundry detergent.

“Good,” you smile, reaching a finger up to play with one of his shirt buttons.

Sonny looks down at your soothed expression as you toy with his shirt playfully. After stealing a quick glance at the door, he looks down and puts his hand over yours.

“Why don’t we take this off, hm?” he asks, starting to unbutton his shirt from the top.

Now, it was your turn to look at the door, still slightly ajar. Your heart pounded at the thought of one of your family members catching you in such a compromising situation with your brother.

“Go close it, sweetheart,” he orders, placing his hand on your cheek softly. You nod and mechanically obey.

You turn back around to see your big brother leaned back against the headboard, smirking, shirt open to expose his chest and slightly rounded stomach.

“Whatever this is… we shouldn’t be doing it,” you say hesitantly.

“Nah it’ll be our lil’ secret, kiddo. Been wantin’ ‘ya like this f’so long,” he groans.

You glance back to the door, even though you know you’ve already shut and locked it.

All of a sudden, your brother’s hand pulls you onto the bed and into his lap, laughing at your skittishness.

“Kiddo, ain’t nobody gonna hear us, alright? Banged plenty’a chicks in this room ‘n my day,” he laughs, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Jus’ gotta focus on me, hm?”

You lay across his parted legs, both of you shimmying further down the bed so you could lay comfortably on top of him. You could feel his hardening member against your legs and it made you want to curl up and turn away from him.

But you couldn’t.

Your big brother leans up slightly, placing his soft lips on yours. He deepens the kiss and you let out an accidental, blissful moan.

“‘Ya like that, baby?” he asks, amused, one eyebrow cocked.

You lean up to meet his lips and he sticks his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss, touching all over your body as you focus on him.

“Sonny, n-no—“ you gasp, moving his hand away from where it rested, toying with the band of your underwear with his long fingers.

“‘S okay baby, gonna feel good,” he promises, fingers dancing below the elastic and touching your nerve-filled skin.

As Sonny sticks a finger inside your hole, you try to hide your pained, uncomfortable wince.

Sonny leans into your lips again, kissing you passionately and leading you into a heated makeout session. You weren’t quite sure what to do except follow his lead, so you push your hand down to his crotch and rub at his hard cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” he hisses, mouth hanging open.

“Is th-this okay?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“God, kiddo, yeah, ‘s more than okay,” he moans, throwing his head back.

You’re not sure what else to do, so you lean down and give him a few soft kisses on his long, open neck.

You’d seen people do that on TV and it seemed to make them feel good, so you figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Pull ‘ma cock out, sweetheart,” he breathes, guiding your fingers to his pants zipper.

“Sonny, I-I don’t know if—“

“C’mon, sweetheart. ‘Ya wanna make ‘ya big brotha’ feel good, right? Wanna make me happy?” he urges.

“I-I guess so,” you say, voice wavering.

As you feel around to grab his cock and pull it out of his boxers, you hear your mom’s voice ring out from downstairs.

“Dessert is ready, everyone!” she calls, immediately causing an uproar from Amanda’s rowdy children and Bella’s little one that you could hear all the way upstairs.

You and Sonny looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Go downstairs, kid. I gotta take care’a this first. ‘N later, we’ll have s’more fun,” he promises, giving you a dizzying kiss on the lips before nudging you off the bed.

You turn and walk to the door, your brother behind you jerking his cock off with labored breaths.

You opened the door, walked through and closed it behind you, knowing nothing would ever be the same between you.

[mechaknight-98]

Masquerade

Author note: I am sorry, but Tifa Sejeong. I had this in my drafts and was going to delete it until today. Also this takes place in the same plotline as Rash revelries and a few other stories I have coming out.

Part II here

Well, this was certainly a new one. A cosplay Party was not on my bingo calendar for 2024 but here I am. Going to a cosplay party on short notice because a friend invited me. Surprisingly the first face I see is a familiar one. My friend Gallahad or Gally for short dressed in a Gilgamesh from Eternals Cosplay. I wave and he confidently smiles at me and walks over. He and Vlad are Probably the next closest to my height due to his basketball-playing father. He puts me in a friendly headlock. Gone is the timid boy I knew a few months ago instead of a confident man who stands tall.

“Danger so glad you could make it. Killer Django cosplay,” he says proudly. I nod and respond,

“Well I didn't have much time to come up with something, but it came out pretty good,” you compliment Gally’s costume, but before Galahad and I can catch up. Two exceptionally attentive and attractive ladies walk our way. “Gally who’s this? The shorter darker skin of the two girls asked

“Oh Jihyo this is Dangerfield Malcolm Baldwin Jr but we just call him Danger,” Galahad explained the girls nodded and the taller paler one addressed me

“덴가?” Sana asked Galls. Gally nodded not noticing. “He’s tall I wonder if she’ll like that. Anyways I’m Sana nice to meet you 덴가. Also love the cowboy cosplay by the way. You rock it.” The taller girl oozed charm and guile. Had I not known that she was in a throuple with Jihyo and Galahad I’d have thought she was flirting with me.

Jihyo approached me next she sized me up for a few minutes then tilted her head and stepped back pleased with what she saw. I turn back to Sana say thank you to her and ask Galahad about the party, but before I can get a word in his two girlfriends pull him away. Something about “needing to find her”

“Oh, sorry Danger gotta go. You know the drill,” Gally says. I don't but I wave him off regardless as his two girlfriends take him upstairs for God knows what. Before isolation could set in I was approached by another partygoer in a cowboy cosplay. Being an insane movie buff I recognized it as Park Do-won or (the good) from the movie “The Good The Bad and The Weird” he seemed friendly introducing himself as Max McDaniels. I smile at him as he says

“Killer Cowboy outfit what show or movie are you from?” he asks in English. I am not surprised by this being one of the few “black” people present at that party. It made sense everyone assumed I was American. I was, but it was still interesting to see the assumptions made.

“Django from Django unchained,” you say. Max’s eyes light up with elated recognition

“I love that movie!” he exclaims to me. I crack a smile.. as I do I notice his eyes narrow and his gaze focused more intensely, “So who invited you? I'm pretty good friends with the hosts so I'm curious how you got in because I haven't seen you before.” Max added. His tone was pleasant but his energy was defensive. I deduced that he was asking because he was wary of me. Which fair? A big burly black man at a party full of very wealthy and famous people could be a red flag. So I take out my phone and show him the video of a very drunk Vladimir and an equally drunk Galahad inviting me to the party over social media. Following that I showed Mr. McDaniels the string of text messages of them becoming progressively sober and still asking me to come through. The implication was a lady was dying to meet me. Being a sucker for that sort of thing I made a mad dash.

“Oh, you're the videographer and stuntman Vlad mentioned. He called you Dangerfield, but he called you Danger in these videos.” Max questions.

I nod and explain to Max that Danger is my nickname. Max nods in understanding. “I'm sorry that makes so much sense now that I hear it sorry for commenting on it.”

Max and I share a chuckle over some of the messages of their apologizing for their drunk antics. After that Max became noticeably more relaxed around me. At this point, I feel comfortable enough to joke with him.

“So I know you are “Mr. Tough as Nails paleontologist who protects his people” but I would like to point out that you do know me.”I teased. Max looked at me confused before asking “Oh really from where?”

“You’re last two paleontologist digs,” I reply

Max looks at me confused. So I wait 5 minutes then another 2 before he finally recognizes me.

“Oh my God you're our videographer… the rugby dad hat guy. You always wear your college rugby “dad” hat,” he says excitedly. I nod

“I mean I do other things besides that. Like I filmed 2 out of your last 3 seminars. I also did a minor recording and B-roll for the last two digs” I teased further. Max's eyes widen even further as his face goes red.

“You are so right my bad. You're always so professional and don't speak much. Thank you so much for all the impressive work you do. I didn't realize never knew or asked your name. I'm also not used to you not wearing a dad hat,” Max says to me. I chuckle and before the friendship can take root Max is taken by his girlfriend. A pretty little thing named walks by us, “Hey honey who is this?”

“Oh, this is Dangerfield our videographer,” Max answers

“I thought Vlad did that?” the lady asks

“No, he does photography and records collection. Danger specifically does video.” Max replies

“Oh okay. He's handsome. I think she’ll like him.” the lady responds she turns to me and says hi

“Hello Mrs Jimin” I respond. Her eyes go wide.

“You know me.” Mrs. Jimin asks.

“Well yeah, you're a famous pop star,” I reply trying to be witty but not standoffish. Mrs. Jimin smiles and then says

“Well then call me Karina. We're friends now aren't we?” she said pleasantly. I give her a thumbs up and she laughs before turning back to Max focused “Babe we still have the drinks in the car we need to get.” she says. Max nods and goes with her

As he walks away he promises to talk to me later. Karina needed help as it was a lot of drinks according to her.

I was alone again. As I stand there alone I consider leaving until a slightly sober Vladimir crashes into me this time he is already with his girlfriend Natty whom he has met once before under bizarre circumstances. I smile at the couple wearing matching vampire costumes. Having done this dance already I decided to tease them

“Hey, Vlad are you also going to talk to me for a short bit then leave with your girlfriend?” I ask teasingly. Vlad looks at me confused before saying

“No that would defeat the entire purpose of why we invited you here. There was someone we wanted you to meet.” He says matter of fact before leading me to where she was

“Oh okay,” I say as I follow them

“So Danger Vlad tells me you’re also (insert cool term for half-blood here) .” I stop in my tracks and resist the urge to grab one of my revolvers and shoot both of them right there and now. Throwing that term out in the open always left me to trouble me. So I kept my identity and powers hidden as best as possible from those I didn’t know. Vlad notices my dead stop and clenched fist, and readily begins to ameliorate the situation.

“Yo Danger it’s cool she’s one of us. She’s a daughter of Vasundharā” Vlad explains, I scowl but relax. I begin to follow the couple as Natty says how much you’ll (me) love “her” ( the girl they are setting me up with). She also mentions how she is also an ascendant. It was then that I realized that Natty doesn’t know how different ascendant culture is in America. I groan and turn to Vlad

“Yo, she’s very liberal with her identity.” Vlad nods then remembers how I feel about secrecy

“Oh don’t be a scaredy cat nothing bad is going to happen.” As soon as Vladimir said that a loud boom echoed throughout the building I rolled my eyes at him and ran to the area where I heard the noise. The space is the front door and an Oni has appeared, and he is angry. He eyes me out of the bunch and points his kanabo at me.

“You. Thief” The one says slanted. I shrug.

“You dare mock me, thief. You stole the Yomi flames.” The one growls

“Mocking would require me to care. I don’t. Also, I didn't steal anything they were given to me voluntarily.” I replied the one slammed his weapon on the ground.

“You expect me to believe that you a puny human were given the flames of our land by my queen?”

“Well not given per se but I was allowed to learn them so I could copy them later, but that explanation makes less sense so can we skip the banter and just get down to fighting? I’m already bored.” The one charged. My response was that I took out one of my revolvers quicker than a blink and shot the creature in the head. The green eldritch energy flowed through me as it created the blast for the weapon. Which in turn creates the sickened bolt that tears through the Oni’s skull. The party was dead silent. Realization hits me as I remember this wasn’t a dig site I could just talk my way out of so I decide it’s probably best to not be here anymore. I spin the revolver out of habit before holstering it. I tip my hat

“Have a good night y’all,” I say as I leave. As I was racing to the front door I bumped into another person dressed as one of my favorite video game characters. She also seemed to be on her way out. I would later find out that her friends had convinced her to meet this guy but they had left her alone to find him leaving her at the mercy of a bunch of “weirdos” (her words not mine) who made her uncomfortable so she was desperate to get out. She sees me and smiles politely before saying “Nice cosplay.” hoping I wouldn't also be a “weirdo”

I nod back then respond “You as well…wait is that Tifa?” I asked the lady as I recognized the outfit. The young lady smiles with eyes brighter than the sun

“Yeah good eye, you’re the first one to recognize it. Good job.” the girl responds with two thumbs up. She looks up at me with a smile.

“How could I not?” she's like one of my favorite characters in all of gaming”

The Tifa cosplayer smiles, “well then you have great taste then.” she says

“Me? look at you (I walk around her to get the full view) This quality is insane.” I reply hyping her up. The Tifa cosplayer smiles brightly and turns to me with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, flattery will get you everywhere. So what’s your cosplay?” The lady asks

“Oh, I’m Django. The D is silent” I say. Before taking out a revolver and spinning it around. The young lady laughs

“Like from the movie,” she asks I nod surprised. She smiles and adds “I love that movie.” I smile back dumbly admiring her taste in quality Westerns. The two of us stand awkwardly trying to figure each other out before deciding to get back to what the two of us were doing which was leaving the party. We do our awkward goodbyes and prepare to go our separate ways. as we are about to part my brain tells me if I don't ask her out now I'll never get another chance to. I take a chance. I ask if she’s hungry and knows any good food spots around here. The girl gives a hearty chuckle as she gets her car and gestures for me to get in.

We arrive at this small little fried chicken spot.

“Oh just because I’m black you assume I like fried chicken?” I say feigning offense. The lady looks at me in my face and says

“Fried Chicken is delicious I thought everyone liked it.” Her tone is flat as she stares at me confused. She then smiles and laughs making me realize she got I was joking. I joined her on laughing as well. I mean she got me fair and square after all

As I laugh I say “I can’t argue with that.” The lady smirks before saying “Good,” and we walk in.

“Oh hey Sejeong good to see you again. Your usual order I assume?” The person behind the counter says. Sejeong nods. She puts up two fingers. I'm guessing to order two of whatever her normal is (I'm assuming she never told me what the two fingers meant). I turn to the gorgeous (I forgot to mention that she is drop dead 2 gorgeous) lady and say

“Huh Sejeong like the…” and then it all clicks. I pause and get my bearings before repeating “Cool, cool, cool.” As I try not to fanboy over the megastar. Sejeong smirks and says

“Not so witty now huh?”

I pause before reflexively saying, “Hey it’s not every day you meet a K-pop megastar and go on a date with her.”

Sejeong laughs which I learned then is contagious, “Oh so this is a date?” She questions

I nod and fire back, “100% we are at a restaurant hoping to get to know each other. That’s the textbook definition of date.”

Sejeong playfully rolls her eyes laughs and says, “That's true. I’m glad I met you. My friends wanted me to meet this guy who they swore I’d love. They left me at the party to find him leaving me to deal with weirdos like you.” Sejeong says wistfully. “I should have figured their last recommendations have been okay at best” Sejeong adds

I nod and explain how I was at the party to be introduced to someone.

“Oh really what’s your name? If you say Danger or Dangerfield. I’m going to laugh.”Sejeong teases

In kind, I responded, “How did you know my name lady?” Sejeong’s eyes flickered with excitement as they widened. as she compartmented my existence in her mind. Our food arrived. After she’s done processing she asks me a simple question.

“So now that you’ve met me what do you think?” She said with a serious tone.

“Do I include Samantha and Rachel in my evaluation?” Sejeong stares at me wide-eyed. I laugh because see her trying to hide a bemused smile. Feeling a little miffed She goes to smack me but I just smile and take the hit.

“You’re lucky you’re funny.” She says. Sejeongg gestures for me to continue.

“Well, my heart tells me you’re amazing and I already have a crush on you despite knowing you personally all of (I look at my watch for added comedic value) 86 minutes. You’re witty, fun to be around, gorgeous, and overall a great time.” Seeing smiles blushes but then says

“What does your head say?” as she speaks her eyes narrow gauging my response. I decide to have fun with it.

“That’s less glowing. It's telling me that it would never work.“Dude, she’s a superstar what would she ever want from a guy like you? She just likes the attention.” is what my head says.” I respond

Sejeong nods and then asks, “So which will you listen to more?” I pause and respond

“If history is any guide then my heart, but I don’t know guess I’ll have to wait and see. I mean I’m open to anything from a one-night stand to a 100-year relationship. The only thing is it’s a two-person job.” Sejeong nods then says

“well I'm not looking for a one-night stand but I'm also not looking for a relationship right now, but you're pretty cool and I like your humorous honesty.” I smile and thank her. The food arrives. I pray before I eat which Sejeong comments on, “Oh a church boy.” Her tone is seductive and flirtatious but my brain automatically jumps to oh it’s a dealbreaker for her

“Is there something wrong with me being religious?” Momo shakes her head but then clarifies, “That depends on you. You’re not one of those weird religious people right?”

“I believe we have established I’m weird and a Christian so you are going to be a bit more specific as to what you mean by that.” Sejeonf laughs and does the sexiest eye roll I have ever seen.

“Ugh, I hate you.” She groans, “But you are correct. What I mean is the type that uses their religion as a weapon against others.” I shake my head before explaining to her the following

“The only thing I battle with are revolvers wits and the grit of a honey badger, and the occasional staff but that’s when I have to get serious. Also, I only really fight when I have to do am training which is a lot” Sejeong laughs at my statement and then says,

“Well then you should be fine, but it was kind of annoying how you asked that question about “weird Christians.” She teased with an adorable pout.

I chuckle and say, “Sorry that’s my A.U.H.D. talking. I should have figured out what you meant.”

“No you’re fine I should have figured you would be weird and very precise with your language since you are good friends with Vladimir” she relents. I smile and we begin eating. At one point I feel a hand slip in mine. I look up to see her giving me the brightest smile. I smile back “How is it?” She asks. Based on the way she’s holding my hand I can tell she’s nervous so I tell her I like it and that’s my final word. Sejeong rolls her eyes and then smiles again as we continue eating. After we finished she asked me how long I was in Korea and I explained to her a while due to working with Vlad, Max, and Gally.

“Oh okay, so another week?” Sejeong asked. I nodded but counteracted with

“However if something comes up that’s worth the time I’ll stay,” I responded Sejeong chuckled

“Oh, and I’m supposed to convince you?” She said in a challenging tone

“I mean you can if you want to this was mostly an economic choice.” I teased back. Sejeong smiled. As we were finishing up a guy approached us. He had blonde hair and storm-grey eyes.

“Aye Collector.” He said menacingly in English. I turn slowly to the young man. I gesture for Sejeong to get behind me but she stands by my side. I see her ready a knife that I hadn't seen earlier

“ People don't usually call me that with the intention of peace. So I am going to ask are you here to kill me?”

“I don't have to kill you just return what you stole?” the young man said

“And what did I steal?” I asked curious

“Don't play dumb you know I'm after Death’s draw.” the man said confidently

“Yeah, I don't have that. All my stuff are cheap copies.” I replied

“You expect me to believe that especially given your reputation?” the man asked taking out an arching javelin.

“I guess a demonstration is in order then sadly,” I reply. I turn to Sejeong, “I'll handle this .” I say to her. She shakes her head and stands in front of me.

“Look I'd appreciate it if you do not attack my friend. I know he looks scary but he's a sweetheart,” she says sweetly

“A sweetheart who turned an outer being into a divine Treasure.” the young man says skeptically. Sejeong looks at me with surprise as I nod to confirm the story.

“Look dude my Ascendant Ability is called the “A Reveler’s tool kit, is often expansive.” A major part of it allows me to emulate other divine treasures and arts.” I explain, but the man only grew more aggressive. He pointed his javelin at me and in a flash, I shoulder-charged him back to Long Island. Sejeong eyed me intrigued

“How did you do that?” she asked

“I used Lugh’s Long Lunge and made it nonlethal.” Sejeong eyed me and then said, “Tell me everything”

In her car, the first thing Sejeong asked about was my Ascendant status,

“So what type of Ascendant are you; Direct, Legacy, Trance, adopted, or avatar?” she asked excitedly I squinted as before I never really considered it.

“Hybrid I guess,” I answered.

“Interesting, wait how?”

“Um, would it be a bad time to explain that I was never exposed to “proper Ascendant” procedures due to my Christian upbringing, and am only now coming to a fully developed understanding of it?” I asked. Sejeong stopped in her tracks and looked at me then began laughing. I sat in awkward silence for a moment then. She turned and smiled at me.

“That's okay,” Sejeong said with a gracious smile. “It's just I have heard stories of Ascendants reaching adulthood and then becoming claimed and I always wondered what that looked like. Now I know and honestly it's pretty funny.” Sejeong smiled as she spoke. I turned back to her

“So you're also an Ascendant?” I ask. Sejeong nods then replies

“I am a direct one and my parent is Seokga.”

“Oh that's super cool tell me more.” I say

[cryptidcr3ature]

Rating Charles’s outfits because I’m an opinionated person. (None of these pics are mine)

Colter Charles: 8/10. There’s something so special about this outfit good patterns, the hand ™, and general snugness. -2 points for the hood. Is it practical? Yes. Does it cover his hair and thus burying the lead that this man has the best hair in the game? Also yes.

Classic blue shirt Charles: 9/10. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this outfit. Everything matches, it’s practical for changing temperatures, it works well with his little necklace. Overall a very good outfit. -1 point for the neck line just being a little awkward.

Poacher killing outfit: -10/10. Charlie boy what the hell? You have a monochromatic color palette and nothing matches. Why do we have so many layers? Why is the belt so high if you’re going to put a jacket over it. I hate this outfit

Sean rescue fit: (sorry for the bad quality but this one has little no pictures) 10/10 YES YES YES. Big coat, matching pants and boots and his hair is on display. Practical and good looking.

The hoodie ™: 6/10. This is a controversial take I know, but the hoodie has its problems. It looks comfortable and I’m an avid hoodie wearer, but I’m not a fan of the rough edges and the one brown patch. I do like the thick sewing lines, but I know this fit could be better. Of course I still love the hoodie and he can make it work but I have to be critical.

Lemoyne fit 1: 10000/10! YES I LOVE THIS FIT SO MUCH YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND! THE PURPLE SHIRT WITH THE TURQUOISE DETAILS ON THE VEST!!!! The way it’s not too baggy but not over constricting. It’s practical but it looks good, not even mentioned how good the tomahawk holster looks with the outfit. I’d wear this outfit level good.

Lemoyne fit 2: 8/10. I adore the idea of this outfit. The greens and the short sleeves are immaculate. The -2 points are for the dingy white shirt. Lemoyne is a dirty place, with all the swamps and dust and stuff, and the whites aren’t going to stay white respectfully. No blame to Charles whatsoever, it’s just not my favorite shirt.

Bank heist fit: 10/10 looks, 5/10 practicality. I love this fit, he looks so good, why so many layers? Why not lose the thick wool coat? If it was a normal day, maybe it would be fine, but you gotta move and I know he’s sweating. I know that wool doesn’t breathe well. Still slays though. A gentleman never gets hot.

Farm boy Charles: 10/10! The fit is RIGHT. Subtle patterns, cute little feather, AND no weird neck line. ICONIC! AND HE KEEPS THE LEG HOLSTER! SLAY KING, SLAY!

American venom: 3/10. I like the coat and his hair looks really good. I also like the pants. I hate this disgusting green vest and off white shirt combo, paired with the floppy hat. I know it’s the same hat as colter, but it doesn’t match the vibe.

[itsmadamehydra]

Doll Face | Fezco Euphoria

part 1 part 2

Pairing: Fezco x Latina!Mouse sister! reader

Summary: Mouse's sister was an excellent girl, a good student even, until life happened and she had to leave every dream behind. A particular friend was left behind too in the process. Years later, they meet again, but they aren't the kids they once used to be.

Warnings: 1.8+ words, mouse sister, drug life, language, non-desired-sexual situations, forced sexual labor, exploitation of teenage girl, abuse, abusive household

a/n: Ok, Spanish is my first language and English second, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Second, I tried to research if Mouse was of any latin american origin, but I couldn't find any information. The actor is referred to as Lating King, so I'll use that as a reference. Thank you for reading! Hope you like it. Any suggestions will be highly appreciated <3

It had always seemed funny to you. The reaction on people’s faces when they came to know whose sister you were. At first, you were proud, sort of. You knew your family didn’t dedicate themselves to an average 9-5 job pretty early. But that never stopped you from feeling happy by having them around you most of the time.

It was like a dream at first. You would come from school, and your mama would always be beside your papá, talking about something you were too young to understand thereupon. Your big brother was known to be in his room with his friends, and you weren't allowed inside.

That didn’t bother you. It never did because at the end of the day, you would all sit down to dinner together and it felt amazing having to see people gather random things to use as chairs because there were just too many people.

It all just seemed like a big diverse family. You loved it.

You were a straight-A little girl type, and papá always made sure to share with you that you would be the first of the family to ever go to college. You were going to become the pride of your family.

Teachers loved you and never had any problem when you asked for extra help. Even your classmates were always helpful and nice towards you, especially one guy that you had math class with.

Fezco

He was one of the nice weird kids. He didn’t talk with anyone much, but you like to believe you were his exception.

It all started due to you not noticing the exercises at the back of the page at that time, you were sitting in front of him, and he noticed this.

“Uhm, hey, sorry, but I think your page is kinda…blank” he drew your attention by tapping your shoulder softly.

“What do you mean?” you stared at him, confused.

“Well, yeah. The back side is blank.” he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to make you understand

“There was a backside!”

“There’s always a back part in math, little girl.”

“Shit- Sorry!” you covered your mouth, embarrassed.

“What are you sorry for?” he looked at you confused.

“I- well… I cursed. Ladies aren’t supposed to curse.”

“Why?”

“It’s unethical.”

“Huh,” he inhaled, “Well, the teacher is about to collect the homework, so if you want to copy from mine, go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ok, thank you so much, Fezco.”

“Call me Fez.”

“Fezco.”

“Alright.”

After that, it seemed like he had chosen you to be his partner in any class you had together. From that moment on, he would always whisper the answers in your ear, making sure you always had the same as his.

He would even grab your homework and correct your mistakes. It seemed so easy for him that you started to believe he was a genius.

“You are one smart mathematician,” you murmured once as you lay beside him on one of the school’s rooftops.

“A what?” he moved his head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of you.

“Mathematician, you will be a great one day.’

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Oh, you know…a person who likes and is good at math.”

“Hell yeah. I'll be one, doll face.”

“Fezco! No cursing.” you giggled.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

You smiled, looking at each other barely, holding in your giggles.

And then everything went to shit.

“Mami! Papi! I’m home!” you entered your home with your cheeks painted and a big smile, hoping to see your parents in the living room, but only your brother was to be found with a bottle in hand.

“Hey, have you seen-”

“They ain't coming back home, little one.” he took one sip.

“What do you mean? They went on a field trip and didn’t take me?”

“Yeah. But more like they went to heaven.”

“Heaven? But that's a few hours away,” you tried, you really tried to be oblivious. Act stupid, “I read it on a map!”

“You can’t be that dumb,” he chuckled sourly, “Mom and pops are dead, and you know that.”

You stayed quiet. Looking at him and trying to keep your tears inside, hoping to be a cruel joke from your big brother.

“Now, I need you to understand something else,” he stood up, walking towards you, completely towering over you, “No more school for you.”

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t need some governmental shit to be put inside your brain when you could be doing something more beneficial for me, us.”

“But I don’t wanna leave school,” you whined sweetly, “Papi said I would go to college!”

“Pops said it, not me,” he grabbed you from your low ponytail without pulling, twisting it around his fingers. “You’r ‘bout to learn about the family business, little sissy.”

And just like that, your life went spiraling into a deep pile of shit and more shit.

It started simple, nothing too hardcore. You prepared his pre-rolled, and he said your petite fingers were perfect for the job. Then, you started addressing him as “Mouse” since he has some respect to show or something along the lines.

And you did that for quite a long time, being grateful to keep some sort of young teen childhood innocence. Until one of his friends mentioned something about your changing body.

“Yo! Mouse! Your sister si que tiene unas lindas tetas eh! ¿A cuanto por una sobada?” they all laughed, but you knew your brother had a realization. (Your sister has a nice pair of tits, how much for a touch?)

His little sissy wasn't so little anymore. And lucky you, the neighborhood home strip club was taking applications, and they loved young girls.

“Pero mira que lindo lugar te conseguí hermanita, ¿a que no?" he laughed, licking his lips at the sight of the bare chest and intimate parts by the women dancing or waitress. (Look what a nice place I got you lil’ sissy, pretty isn't it?)

“I don’t want to be here, Mouse,” you said with a scared tone, “I don’t feel comfortable.”

“What you mean!?”

“I want to leave now, Mouse,” you said, trying to sound stern and covering your eyes to bring the different color neon lights.

If you had not, you would have seen him before he pulled you by your hair.

“Mouse!”

“Shut your fucking mouth and listen!” he spoke in your ear, spitting saliva, “You ain't eating nor coming home hasta que me traigas minimo mil, got it?” you nodded. (until you bring me at least a thousand)

“But how am I going to get you that?”

“Well, why else would I bring you here!? You got the place and a job start dancing!”

You looked at all sides, looking for some type of explanation or help, but all you could notice were a few pity looks from the women already working there.

“But…I am just fifteen, and I do not have any clothes like those,” you tried hard to convince him to take you away from there.

“C’mon I was thirteen when I banged my first chick, besides you got underwear underneath that, right?”

You nodded, unsure.

“Then don’t come back until you have that money in hand we clear.”

“Como el agua,” you murmured (like the water)

It took you some time to gather the money. It took you long enough to gather the courage to walk out of the dressing room in your underwear. Thankfully, some women there pitied you and gave you some money so you didn't have to socialize too much with the customers.

That day you became aware of how disgusting looks from men and women could be. But you became happy when at the end of the third day, the money had been collected. Until you were about to leave, the place and the owner took half of your money.

That’s when you knew that they take half of the tips, more if you get opinionated about it.

You had to work for it, they said. To start showing some more for some extra bills. To hide it somewhere, they won't see it.

Took you some time, but you felt elated when you knocked on that worn-down door you loved.

“Here’s the money,” you placed it in his hand with a smile, and he threw 100 back at you.

“Go get some work clothes and your food for a month.”

“What?”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen”

“At seventeen, you start paying rent.”

Then, you were his investment. His friends and co-workers wanted to see you dance. They wanted to see you shake your chest and back for them. They wanted to touch you. And if you objected? A dislocated shoulder, 3 broken ribs, and black-eyed followed you for a month, and you objected…a lot.

But you learned how to handle it. You had to and became a pro. The favorite one in the club, and the best one of Mouse’s girls, even if you had to do some things you despised.

At least you were treated better.

And then, you saw him.

You were at home, doing some dances for Mouse’s people along with two other girls.

You had numbed yourself and your emotions. You had created an alter ego and a safe place in your mind where you could wander off whenever you were working. Funny enough, you had come to like dancing with a pole. You found it artistic, just not the other things it came with.

You were concentrated on grinding on top of the man beneath you, concentrated in your safe place. Ignoring his wandering hands beneath your work clothes, his groping. But some voices distracted you. You switched positions so you could stare at the men coming in.

It was a redhead, and he seemed…cute.

You could hear them going and on about quantities and deadlines, and you better pay me up before blah, blah, and more blah.

“You know what, I liked you, carrot boy,” Mouse smiled, rubbing his palms against each other, “Let me gift you with one of my best girls. Sweetcheecks, com’ere!”

“She’s busy, my man,” said the man underneath, simulating pounding into you while you kept grinding him with him groping your chest.

“Not‘nymore, fuck off,” he grabbed him by the arm and pulled the redhead to your seat, “Treat him good, will ya?”

You nodded and started doing your job. It was actually easy to please a man. Just some elaborate touching and grinding, especially grinding, and to let them touch whenever and wherever.

You could feel him looking at you, his eyes locked. Almost making you feel embarrassed by what you were doing. He seemed like the gentle type. He even kept his hands to himself. You could be wrong, and when you felt his hand grabbing you by your neck and taking you near his lips. You knew you were wrong. He needed some time before he felt full of himself and started groping you like the others.

“Doll face, is that you?”

part 2? Let me know...

[eardefenders]

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 4 Transcript

00:00-00:29 *Intro Music*

00:28 John: Hello there, Mister Flatmate.

00:31 Sherlock (Resigned): What is it and why have you got your laptop?

00:34 John: It’s that time! My fine fellow-

00:34 Sherlock: For goodness sake. *sounds of him moving on furniture*

00:36 John: Oi, where you going?

00:38 Sherlock: I’m getting my cushion.

00:39 John: Your cushion?

00:40 Sherlock: Yes. Here. This one.

00:42 John: That- that’s Mariana’s.

00:45 Sherlock: Ah, it’s mine.

00:46 John: I know it’s her’s. I bought it for her for Christmas.

00:50 Sherlock: Are you sure?

00:51 John: Yes, because you don’t support Real Sociedad and she does.

00:56 Sherlock: *pause* I could.

00:57 John: Yeah, you could, but you don’t. Ok- *gibbers* It doesn’t matter. Just sit on the bloody cushion. Fine. Qs! And indeed As! Here we go. Uh, ahem, mm, just a disclaimer here, to the patrons. Um. I’m old. Uh, I’m thirty-four. If-if I see a question in the Discord, I-I just ask it. Uh, if it’s in the wrong order or i-if I’ve missed some out. It’s-it’s probably just me not seeing it. So, y’know. Right-o! Uh-Ooo! Off to a flyer here! Milque asks, “Favorite tube line?”

01:29 Sherlock: Victoria.

01:30 Yeah, Victoria. Yeah, yeah. Generally, most Londoners will give that answer. Umm, y’know clean trains, not too many stops, and some big stations on there. Y’know King’s Cross, Euston, Oxford Circus, um Victoria, obviously. Um, some other lines worth mention: Bakerloo brings a certain vibe. B-bit of a sort of kooky, deranged, but pleasant elderly uncle that doesn’t wash kind of vibe. Uh, central line is possibly the most hated, ah, especially during the summer. Um, Piccadilly gets a lot of people headed to Heathrow, so it comes with a lot of baggage. Hah! Literally clambering over suitcases on that one. The Elizabeth line is amazing, but seems to be closed or delayed most of the time. Um, so thanks for listening to TubeCast!

02:20 John: Heh, right. Next question! SaraHawke722 asks, “How do you both know Stamford?” Stamo! The Stamster! I think therefore I Stam. Heh, uh, I-I added those bits. They didn’t say that. Uh, right. Sherlock you go first.

02:36 Sherlock: I met him at St. Bart’s.

02:39 John: That’s uh Saint Bartholemew’s Hospital in London

02:42 Sherlock: I know.

02:43 John: Yes, I know, I’m just telling the listener.

02:45 Sherlock: *pause* Right… I met him at St. Bart’s. There was a study on skin grafting that he was undertaking. I initially made a number of enquiries about the study, he then hired me to work with him on it. Then after that he wanted me on other projects that I didn’t find that interesting, but *with emphasis* he did let me use the lab.

03:03 John: Great, uh ok, um, I met Stamo in Freshes week at University. Um, the University of London. W-which is kind of affiliated with UCL and King’s College London.

03:15 Sherlock: By kind of affiliated, you mean it’s for their underachieving undergrads.

03:19 John: Uh, sorry mate, what University did you go to, exactly? *silence* Yeah, right, thought so. Uh, by the way, um, few of our American listeners have mentioned that you and Victor went to college together. College in the UK is sixteen to eighteen, generally speaking. Um, but, sorry Sherlock, posh lads will sometimes call boarding school a ‘college’. Uhh, I d-I don’t know why. They also call their private boarding schools ‘public schools’. So, yeah, I know. Weird lot. Uh, anyway, yeah, met Stamo at University of London in Freshes week, we both liked football. He’s a Villa fan, Aston Villa that is. We, we kinda were, uh, both out of our depth a little bit with medical degree life, so y’know maybe stuck together. Which. Which was stupid really as you should probably attach yourself to some smartarse, but hey! Y’know! Live and learn! Uh, he started to do well at Uni. Um, he went on to y’know big-big private practice and cosmetic surgery for the most part. And I got shot at for a living, so. Yeah. Listen in school, kids. Listen in school. Uh, WeirdScience asks “Do you believe in ghosts?”

04:32 Sherlock: No. Do you?

04:33 John: Uh, no. No, no. Joff asks “Sorry to be intrusive doctor, but did you suffer any hearing loss during your army days?” Pardon? *wheezing laugh* Ha, uhh no. No, seriously, I did. Um, I burst an ear drum, twice, um, actually, in Afghanistan. I-in my right ear. Uh, thought it was fine, but then after Ukraine when I was getting a full body M.O.T. as it were, there were signs of hearing loss. Um, yeah, but I’ve been lucky I think. I hope it doesn’t get worse as I’ve built my career in audio now. So. Yeah-yeah, but uh a little. A little bit. Um, JellyBaby says, “Dogs or Cats, podboys?”

05:18 Sherlock: I prefer vermin.

05:19 John: Hm. I uh prefer dogs, through and through. Yeah. Um, y’know I like a cat, but they don’t get me. Dogs get me. Ain’t that right, Arch? Heh. Uh, don’t know where he is actually. He’s probably downstairs with Mariana. Catonk asks, “What’s your favorite musical?” We-well it won’t be ‘Cats’! Hahaha! Ahh, Sherlock, your favorite musical?

05:43 Sherlock: What’s the one with the man?

05:46 John: The. The one with the man. Um. Right. You’ve just described the entirety of art and media there.

05:54 Sherlock: He has a piano and he lives in a cave.

05:57 John: Piano in a cave?

05:59 Sherlock: There’s a girl he loves. He-he-he’s got half a face.

06:01 John: Ohh! Phantom of the Opera.

06:04 Sherlock: Yes! I thought that one was okay.

06:07: Great. Yeah, no, it’s a good’un, it’s a good’un. Good answer, I like Phantom. I like Les Mis. I know that’s a boring answer, but some incredible songs in that. Uhhh, yeah. Question via email here from Sartori, “Did you feel bad for Violet Caruthers, because I did.” Um, well yeah, I did. Um. She, uh- I-I-I don’t know how to put it, really-

06:34 Sherlock (interjecting): Had given up control of her life.

06:36 John: Yeah, it was- I don’t know- confidence shot to shit? Th-th-the truest sort of victim I think I’ve ever seen, really. She just, uh, she couldn’t grasp the wheel on her own life. Like Sherlock says. Was that why you were reluctant on that case, Sherlock?

06:55 Sherlock: Very much so. Men had muscled in and filled the gaps she had created from her own insecurity. I didn’t wish to be yet another imposing presence.

07:05 John: But we were.

07:07 Sherlock: We were. And what good did it do?

07:10 John: Saved a bloke’s life?

07:11 Sherlock: Mm, we didn’t pull the trigger but we may as well have. And we set the process in motion.

07:18 John: Welllll… right. Yeah. Okay, didn’t think this q and a session would get so deep. Um. But, yeah, t-that, uh… Welcome to True Crime! *awkward huff laugh* Yeah, we don’t always run off or cycle off into the sunset. Um. Yeah. Uh, okay. Mush-Pit asks, “How many languages do you know?”

07:47 Sherlock: Many.

07:48 John: Great.Uh, why?

07:50 Sherlock: When I was young, I often fooled myself into thinking perhaps it was my grasp of language that was the reason that I didn’t quite fit in. So, I decided to try a number of other languages to see if they worked as a better and more effective means of communication. I wondered whether the nuance and subtle signals of the English language were what was holding me back from social environments. So, I attempted other languages.

08:14 John: Right, and how did that go?

08:15 Sherlock: It’s the same. It would appear it’s nothing to do with language.

08:20 John: Yeah, I’m inclined to agree with you there. I’m rubbish with languages. Ha, it never sticks for some reason. Um, hole in my brain I think. Mariana is also a dab hand at the old languages. She cracked open a bit of Russian the other day. I nearly ducked for cover! * laughs at his own joke* Uh, *clears through* RangerPip asks, “Have you seen any of the fan content Sherlock?”

08:42 Sherlock: Yes, because you keep showing me. And sticking things on the fridge.

08:46 John: Uh, yeah because they’re cool. They’re really good mate! Just-just you wait until I show you the presentation.

08:52 Sherlock: The what?

08:53 John: Nothing. Right question via email from Unbelted, “Does the fingerprint in your logo make an ‘S’ and is that deliberate?” Yes, um is the answer to that. My idea, thanks. Uh, Jones asks, “What’s our spice tolerance?” So, um, right. Okay, yeah. I can go really spicy for Indian. Uh, I can hit the searing temperatures of the Madras and the Vindaloo no problem. Lot of Brits can actually. But I tell you what, Indonesian and Thai spicing I feel. Geez, whew, that is-is a whole different realm of spice. Um…phew. S-sherlock?

09:32 Sherlock: I like the sensation.

09:35 John. Yep, uh. Anything else to add?

09:39 Sherlock: It depends on my emotional connection to the food.

09:42 John: Of course, of course. Well, a-a-as mentioned in Gloria Scott, Sherlock will only eat certain foods if he’s in the right mood. The mood for food, heh. Uh, right-o. Few general questions asking how pancake day went. Uh, yep. No dramas. Went well. Went ‘flipping’ great. Eh? Hehe. Uh, yeah, uh oo! Questions and comments. A lot from North American Podpals, uh, about me describing a woman as ‘tasty’. Um. So, ‘tasty’ is a Carol Watson word. Uh. T-t-the sort she would use for young, handsome men that she flirts with when she can. Um, don’t know what the American equivalent would be? Um? Yeah, you know, what’s a lame word used to describe someone as good looking? Y’know what would an elderly woman use basically…get in touch! Right, another question here. Uh, by the way, when I started this whole question and answer thing, Goalhanger and I thought this would be a great way to field questions about cases. Um. Y’know about the people we meet, about the nature of the crimes we’ve dealt with, uh to fill in possible knowledge gaps, and impart little gems of information that expose the murky nature of crime. Um. Which takes us to this question from Saphhster, “John, what are your thoughts on ranch dressing?” *long pause* I mean, yeah. I like it. I like it, it’s good stuff. Um, Sherlock is nodding. Uh, it’s audio mate. Great. Thanks for your contribution. Uh, Tonky asks, “Does Sherlock have any tattoos?” Apart from my face on his bum. Heh, that’s a joke. That’s a joke, don’t write in. Sherlock, tattoos?

11:26 Sherlock: A spiral on my hip.

11:28 John: What?! Alright, well let’s see! Get it out. *sound of clothes being moved/removed* Oh, well that’s rubbish.

11:34 Sherlock: I know.

11:35 John: Why’d you get that done?

11:36 Sherlock: I-it’s scarring from falling out of bed. I had it filled in because it looked like a spiral.

11:42 John: Okay. Sarah Hawke again with a question, “What is your advice about dealing with a noisy flatmate? Would love both your takes on this lol. I’m at Uni and have a noisy and slightly annoying flatmate. Somehow I’ve agreed to live with them next year as well.” Um, okay Sara Hawke, w-

12:03 Sherlock (cutting John off): Try to tune them out as best you can. Bring in other elements to distract you from their noisiness.

12:09 John (cutting Sherlock off): Sorry, what are you doing?

12:10 Sherlock: Answering wonky-blonk’s question.

12:12 John: It’s not ‘Wonky-Blonk’, it’s Sarah Hawke. Who’s Wonky-Blonk?

12:15 Sherlock: They’re all called that.

12:17 John: Look, I live with a noisy flatmate, alright, it’s clearly directed at me.

12:20 Sherlock: They said both of us.

12:21 John: Yeah, but they added a ‘lol’, okay. That means they recognize the irony of you being asked.

12:26 Sherlock: Why?

12:27 John: Because you initiate a fucking marching band at three am every night.  Ssssake. Uh, yeah, Sarah Hawke, I would say get some earbuds. Play music. Uh, white noise is good. Um, oh, I l-looked into this. You can get quite cool soundproofing panels on Amazon. Um, they don’t look awful and they do kind of work. Sometimes. Uh, yeah, right, anyway. That’s it. Thanks for the ‘Qs’, hope you liked the ‘As’ and we will see you soon. He’s wav-He’s waving. It’s. It’s audio m- For god’s sake-

13:00-13:30 *Outro Music Plays*

[nattikay]

sure is interesting how the internet just loves to accuse Avatar of being a carbon-copy-ripoff of Dances with Wolves, Pocahontas, Fern Gully, etc. but never seems to accuse Dances with Wolves, Pochanonas, or Fern Gully as being ripoffs of each other. Surely if Avatar is exactly the same as all these movies at the same time then all those movies must be exactly the same as each other too right! But no, for some reason it’s fine when those movies share similar tropes and themes, but when Avatar does it, using those tropes is suddenly some lazy and derivative sin against storytelling, apparently.

Yes, Avatar does share a lot of themes and tropes with all these movies, no one’s denying that. But guys. Dances with Wolves did not invent the “going native” trope. Fern Gully did not invent “saving the environment from greedy villains”. Pocahontas did not invent “foreigner falls in love with a native”. It’s ok for more than one movie to share these ideas for pete’s sake y’all holy flip

Heck, you could argue that in some ways Dances with Wolves and Pocahontas are more similar to each other than either is to Avatar since they are both historical fiction set in North America centered around the native Americans vs the Europeans, whereas Avatar is a sci-fi/fantasy set on an alien moon six light years away where the humans have hyperadvanced technology and big robots and the whole moon is covered in a massive neural network that the locals can tap into at will using the biological usb cable that grows out of their heads. “it’S jUsT pOchAHonTaS iN sPaCE” SO WHAT? Telling a familiar story in a unique setting is not some cardinal sin against storytelling and I’m tried of pretending that it is. Maybe “a Pocahontas-type story but in the future in space with aliens and a whole bunch of unique immersive fantasy worldbuilding” is kinda a cool concept actually, there’s nothing inherently wrong with or “lazy” about it.

Sorry to suddenly go off about this, it just seems that whenever I see someone (outside the fandom) mention Avatar on the internet they seem to have this weird compulsion to make some dismissive disclaimer about how the movie is silly and derivative before they move onto the meat of their analysis (whatever that may happen to be), as if they need to justify their mention of it lest someone judges them for having poor taste and tbh I’m tired of it.

Avatar is fine. You don’t have to preface every mention of it with a disclaimer about how it (supposedly) sucks. You don’t have to throw in a snarky “oh God forbid, this movie” when you bring it up as an example of xyz. Especially when the most popular “criticism” that get tossed at it is as shallow and silly as “it shares some tropes and themes with some other movies”.

if Avatar is genuinely just not your cup of tea, that’s totally valid! Like any movie, it’s not gonna appeal to everyone and that’s ok.

But if your perception of it is “it’s bad because everyone knows you’re supposed to make fun of the dumb blue people movie, Big Reviewer YouTuber called it Dances with Smurfs and said it was lazy”, maybe think for yourself for five minutes

[paintbrushnebula]

I think now that Tangled the Series has been over for the better part of four years now, what makes me sad the most is that there were enough pieces left behind by the film to construct a compelling narrative for a strong continuation of Rapunzel and Eugene's story that wouldn't have required all this "bigger and more epic" stuff that the series made up in order to be interesting. 

And you can have big epic magical stuff, that's fine! I LOVE epic large-scale stories! But there's a difference between expanding your world by further developing its elements and themes, and just scaling up the adventure tenfold to be “bigger and better”—which is what I feel that the series did in the end. 

It’s funny, because I was already a fan of Tangled when I was little. I still remember being 7 years old sitting in that theater with my sister, actually breathless and in shock when Eugene drew his last breath. I had never seen a kids movie where a lead character dies.

(and I know that sounds absurd because there were Disney films before where a lead character dies and comes back XD look I was 7 and my parents weren’t people who knew many pop culture American movies at the time so I didn’t watch much that wasn’t Disney Channel or VHS films that my Grandma owned. To this day I’m still kind of trying to catch up on film culture XD)

Sorry to get off track but what I’m trying to say is, I was there when the series was announced and they revealed that promo art back in 2016, I saw the 30 second promo trailer, I watched “Wind in my Hair” when it was released on Youtube in February 2017 the morning before school and I was hyped for the rest of the day, and I remember watching Before Ever After’s premiere with my sister and was FLOORED that it was good??!! Like actually was gonna have a serialized overarching story and everything! God I’ll never forget Eugene’s verse where he pulls out that ring. I’ll never forget Rapunzel’s face when he gives her his proposal speech (before it went downhill that is), and I’ll always forget the last 25 minutes that take place  after Rapunzel’s hair grows back because its low-key pretty heckin boring! 

What hyped me was the relationship stuff, Rapunzel’s PTSD, the parent drama, everything that those first 30 minutes had that made me THINK we were in for an emotional story about Rapunzel’s life after the tower, I thought we’d get to see in detail how she’s gonna to grapple with her trauma, her new life, her new responsibilities, her new relationships, all that. And some of the series was that, a very small “some.” Not enough by any means for me lol

Because like, wouldn’t that have been a more interesting story to tell than the one we got? Ultimately Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure doesn’t feel like a continuation of Rapunzel’s story, it’s more like a Brand New Adventure that happens star Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert. I know that sounds weird and I might not be making much sense here but, did the story of a girl who stops a plague of darkness and fights a transdimensional demon blueberry ghost girl and has to reconcile with her “step-sister” HAVE to be about Rapunzel? Also like, just. NOTICE how that summation of the story of the series DOESNT involve Eugene in some way. You know. The hecking CO-LEAD of the film this series is based on. 

And like, there was so much story to be told with Rapunzel and Eugene WITHOUT the blueberry Disney Junior-giving ghost girl, the poorly written heavily contrived step-sister conflict, AND the big plague of darkness nonsense. Rapunzel and Eugene are two VERY tragic individuals. DO SOMETHING WITH THEM, IOUHWO4Y2IBBU3FN3FI

I’ll admit that I was more attached to the series than I was to the movie while it was airing, and even for like 2 years after it was over. I was younger and more immature and the big stakes and fresh new characters and magical adventures captivated me more than the focused drama of the movie. But now that I’m older, I realize that I resonate more with Rapunzel in the movie. NOT in any concerning “do you need help?” Kind of ways, just that I find myself thinking the way she thought, since I’m now around the age she was in the movie. The way I think about my future, my self esteem etc. I relate to how she feels inexperienced and fresh in the world despite being a young adult, because she hasn’t done any of those “big things” yet. And you wonder “how am I gonna do those big things? When do they happen? Will I know what to do when they happen?” I get it, Rapunzel, I really do. 

The series is kinda an afterthought to me now I guess. I still appreciate that it exists and I’m so happy it happened. In the beginning, it didn’t feel real when it was happening. Like a dream honestly. And like, Tangled the Series is literally 80% the reason I wanted to write fiction, so I’ll always be grateful for it. 

But holy kriff is the movie so much better heeheeeeeeeeee

[pjowrites]

lost in the lotus

this is from my original blog from the same name. I had gotten discouraged and deleted it but brought it back, so I no longer have the request that asked for this.

Percy x sister!reader, Annabeth x platonic!reader, Grover x platonic!reader. Y/f/f/t= your favourite food type, y/f/m= your favourite meal, y/n= your name. reblogs are appreciated, as well as constructive criticism in the comments.

Percy wasn’t sure when you got separated all he knew was that you were gone. When you arrived at the lotus casino you were the only one to actually question what was going on. “Percy, don’t you think something weird is going on?” “This doesn’t feel right. we shouldn’t be here.” “Percy, something is very wrong here.” All he did was shrug, and now he was regretting that because now you were lost somewhere in the casino. “Annabeth, annabeth! Have you seen y/n? We need to get out of here. This place is a trap you come and never leave.” “spiders! Big hairy spiders!” “Oh my gods, how long have we been here?” “I don’t know, but y/n is missing and I don’t know where she would have gone!” “Percy calm down, we're going to find y/n.” Annabeth and Percy went to find Grover so that they could have a better chance of finding you. It took a while to convince Grover to leave the game and look for you, but they eventually began their search. “Y/n! Y/n! Y/n, where are you!” They had decided that Annabeth and Grover would search together while Percy went by himself. They had looked through the whole first floor, where most of the stuff was, and still no sign of where you were. “Annabeth, did you see her?!” “No, I’m sorry Percy.” Percy was starting to worry that he would never find you. “Maybe, she’s on another floor?” Percy gave annabeth’s idea some thought, and decided that it might be true. “Umm. Yeah yeah. That sounds like a good idea.” Percy made a run for the elevator. He had already lost his mom, so there was no way in hades he was going to lose his sister. They searched the second floor, but no sign of y/n. If Percy wasn’t panicking before he was now as millions of thoughts of terrible things that could have happened went through his head. Were you attacked by a monster, were you kidnapped, did Zeus do something to you because he blamed Poseidon, did hades do something to try and stop him from finding and returning the bolt. Whatever happened percy was worried. While Percy was panicking you were up on the third floor where all the restaurants were. You were the only one to not open the snacks up in your hotel room because something made you not trust the food here, and now you were starving and didn’t care. They had every type of food you could think of: Greek, Italian, American, Indian, British, Japanese, Chinese, etc. you chose y/f/f/t and chose y/f/m off the menu. When it got there it was the best y/f/m you had ever had. When Percy, Annabeth, and Grover got to the third floor percy took a quick look and knew you would most likely be at the y/f/f/t restaurant. While annabeth and Grover made quick rounds through all the restaurants percy ran towards where he knew you would be. When he got there it only took him a couple seconds to find you. “Come on y/n we need to go this place is a trap. I should have believed you when you tried to tell me.” “But Percy the food here is amazing you have to try some.” Percy grabed your hand and pulled you out of the chair and quickly pulled you out of the restaurant before you could protest. On the way out you ran into Annabeth and Grover. They looked relieved to have you back. Annabeth realized you were trying to protest Percy’s actions, so she grabbed your other hand helping Percy pull you out into the elevator. “But Percy I don’t want to go.” “Yes. Yes you do. You just don’t remember it. This place makes you forget stuff.” When you finally got out of the casino percy pulled you into a tight hug relieved to have you back. “Don’t ever ever scare me like that again. I thought I might not see you again.” “Percy, I can’t just leave you. If i left who would keep you from doing stupid stuff.” 

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

Hey I was checking your blog and I was wondering if you were the people who asking what they teaching kids in schools about slavery

Well as someone who was part of the American education system. Let me tell you a little secret

Arab, Asian, and ESPECIALLY African slavers are intentionally left out of the education systems

Like remember the women king movie that lionized the Dahomey? Well fun fact for generations my community, the African American community, was told for generations that Africa was that garden of peace until the white devils came and ruined it. In fact I didn’t even know about the Dahomey until people was exposing the atrocities they did after the women king trailer dropped.

I had a near mental breakdown learning that black Americans basically did a equivalent of “Holocaust survivors romanticizing the Nazis” and I’m only 23 so you can just imagine the mental hell for older black Americans when they learn who really sent us to the Americas.

I just wanted to point that out because your British no and I often see non Americans wonder why we constantly make weird ass statements.

Like….black Americans was taught since they were in the fucking womb that slavery was only “white people enslaved black people”

Sorry for this heavy topic, just saying you guys are in a doozy with Americans for awhile

It's true, America is incredibly insular in some ways - perhaps because it is so big - and as a result it sometimes projects its own problems and skewed perceptions onto the rest of the world. And, because it has been the world empire this past century, the rest of the world often falls in line with those views too.

But slavery has always been with us: every race has bought and sold every other race, and Africans were buying, selling, trading and enslaving other Africans for thousands of years before any white-skinned devils bearing gunpowder turned up on their shores.

You'd think that basic and inarguable truth would be the first thing schools would teach impressionable children about this matter, but today they're much more intent on making them want to destroy western civilization for no reason.

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 8

Fergus concludes his birthday party and we get some news.

CW: Unicorn zombie with minor carton gore

Calista: Ready to lose all your sleep ins

Eliza: What do you mean

Calista: An adoption fell through at the last minute and my husband put you two forward before they had time to go to the waitlist

Eliza: Wait, really? You're not tricking me?

…

Aaron: So she’s an infant born this morning. There was a family set up but they got cold feet about not having access to parents medical histories so I just told them how reliable the two of you are together. She’s got African American descent so they were keen for at least one of the parents to match

Bob: Thanks Aaron, I really can’t thank you enough for this

Calista: Apparently the birth mother didn’t want to name her, she wanted to avoid attachment, but you didn’t hear that from me. Anyway better get brainstorming

Eliza: Oh Bob already has quite the list, trust me

...

Aaron: There’ll be papers but legally she’ll be seen as yours and Eliza’s from the get go

Bob: I’m sure we can handle not knowing the medical histories, we’re interested in her future. I know it’s selfish to want an infant-

Aaron: Hey, you can always adopt or foster an older one later on. You’re still bringing a child into your family, that’s generous no matter their age

Of course it is Fergus’ birthday party and he spends some time eating cake with his friends. Since aging up has already happened this rotation most of them are teens now to.

In the lounge the adults take over the TV.

Calista: Which button is the gas

Artemisia: Crash ma, crash!

Bob: It’s one of the right ones I think

Artemisia: It’s left ma! Other left! Watch out for-

Aaron: *sighs* You’re not being very helpful Emisia

Artemisia: *tuts* Blame Bob for not having enough seats at their table *leaves*

Eliza: There will be even less when we break the high chair out of storage

Artemisia: What are you doing out here

Beth: You’re all tall now, it’s weird

Artemisia: It’s not my fault that you’re younger than the rest of us

Beth: Whatever

And of course compulsory photos with friends! Chasity and Artemisia below.

Most of Fergus and Artemisia’s friends are born from in game couples. The first two below are Brianna Fryes and Drake Bheeda. Maybe people with better eyes can see the family resemblance but I cannot… Then we have Anya and Atlas

After the party Eliza heads out for a jog with Strawberry but when she gets home it’s Ginger who needs a bath? Keen to dust off her bathing small creatures skills Eliza takes her for a bath. Ginger is very appreciative, even if she shakes off a puddle into the corner.

When Eliza eventually gets to bed Strawberry feels like cuddles and wakes her up.

Eliza: Strawberry! Tomorrow is a big day, mother needs sleep, don’t wake up sleeping sims

Strawberry pretends to listen but she’s stubborn so I’m quite sure it makes no difference to her, especially since Eliza does cave and give her snuggles. Before going back to sleep Eliza decides to check on the dust bunny. Dusty gifts her a fire opal! Not wanting Ginger to feel left out of the snuggle-fest she cuddles her before heading back to sleep. Where is Bob?

It may be half past midnight but Bob is determined to finish his latest book. He’s not particularly good at writing but he needs to save up for his future restaurant.

Strawberry: *yaps* Play time dad, play

Bob: Sorry Strawberry, dad is busy just this second

Strawberry: *yaps* Ginger, come get dad to play

Ginger: *barks* Sure, oh... oh no... he’s on the computer!

To Bob’s confusion Ginger bolts out of the room and is followed by a curious Strawberry. Bob doesn’t have to much time to wonder on it though as he needs to keep writing.

Strawberry: *yaps* Why are we under here

Ginger: *whimpers* hiding

Strawberry: *yaps* Wait, what are we hiding from

Ginger: *whimpers* the computer

Strawberry: *yaps* come on, we’ll crawl out this side and we’ll be away from it. Let's comfort eat

Ginger: I suppose that's what dad does

Ginger reluctantly follows Strawberry out and does her best to forget that Bob is on the computer.

At 2:30 Bob finishes book number 4! He also reached writing level 4, hopefully soon he’ll be able to do more than self publish. Getting ready for bed he is giddy with excitement for his growing household.

Previous ... Next

[stxuxrniolochris]

fake dating p5- Chris Sturniolo

p1 p2 p3 p4

slow burn ( i think ), your both seniors(18), also i live in Ireland so idk how American like years in school works so just go with it, use of y/n, half based on to all the boys I’ve loved before but not really, highschool!chris

Summary ~~you both need to get peoples attention but you might just end up catching eachothers~~

~~

y/n pov

‘How do you tell your best friend you can’t keep fake dating him because you’re scared you’ve developed actual feelings for him and don’t want to just fake it anymore. You can’t. So you fake break up with them.’

Ever since this conversation with Chris he’s been begging me to keep going. I just couldn’t understand why he wanted to so bad. He got Amelias attention back so what’s the point? Every time I ask why he just shrugs it off and says “I need more time” - like what.

I walk into English and sit myself down beside Chris. He gives me a soft smile and kisses me on the cheek, my face heats up. I need to stop this before it gets too deep. I can’t ruin are friendship over having feelings for him when I know he doesn’t like me back.

I look up at ameila who’s sitting near the top of the class. My eyes trail to her ponytail. My face drops. The scrunchie I wear is everyday in her hair. The one I told him to keep safe. He gave to her. I feel his eyes on mine so I look back, he has a look of guilt in his face.

A few silent minutes pass by. “I’m sorry.” Chris whispers. “Huh” - he exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry I let her take your scrunchie.” Oh yea. That.

“You didn’t let her take it Chris, you gave it to her. And It’s fine I don’t care, it’s just a hair tie.” I sigh. We only share small talk the rest of the class.

-

It’s lunch and Chris finally decided we could go back to our friend’s table. I liked sitting alone with him but I also missed lunch with all my friends. We laughed the whole time. I’d forgotten about the whole ‘inlove with my best friend’ thing. Honestly I I barely talked to Chris the rest of the day.

-

Chris pov

I just got home and I can’t stop thinking about the look on y/ns face when she saw the scrunchie. I feel terrible, i totally forgot she had taken it at the party. She said it’s fine but I know she loves the little things so I knew this was big to her. I get off my bed and walk to matts room, knowing he would have a better idea of what to do than me.

“Come in.” Matt shouts after me knocking on his door for like 5 minutes straight. “What’s up?” He looks up from his game he was playing at his desk. I invite myself to sit on his bed and plop myself down. “I don’t really know.” I admit. “Well then I can’t really help you.” He shrugs. I sigh, “Well it’s y/n. I mean it’s not her it’s me. It’s all just confusing me lately, like I was so sure it’s Amelia who I wanted but the more time I spend with y/n the more I think it might be her. But I can’t say that because I can’t lose are friendship. And she keeps trying to stop the fake dating thing but I can’t go back to being just friends with her. I’ll go insane. And now I’m pretty sure she’s mad at me because i accidentally let Ams take her favourite scrunchie and she barely talked to me after it . And don’t get me wrong I care about Amelia so much still but y/n makes me happy I feel excited to see her, you know?” I rant, telling Matt but also half telling myself.

He just looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Say something please.” I say nervous of how he’s reacting. “Well…” he starts. “I kind of knew you atleast liked y/n like that a little bit, but I think you need to just be honest. You can’t string her along because you’re scared of just being friends with her. And you too are close, even if she doesn’t feel the same you’ll find a way out of it. But she deserves to know, and get her scrunchie back.” He says. I nod slowly. Maybe I should tell her. “But what if she gets weirded out and thinks I’m a creep.” I ask genuinely, but Matt laughs at it. “Chris cmon you’re not a random guy, you’re bestfriends.”

I walk out the house 10 minutes after this. He’s right I need to tell y/n. I’m going in the direction of y/ns house, but I need to do things right. So I take a slight detour before going to her house.

I’m stood in front of Amelia’s house. I take a deep breath before raising my hand to knock on the door. After a few moments she opens the door. “Chris?” She asked confused. I’m silent for a moment not knowing how to go about this. “What your here to beg for me back?” She smirks. My jaw clenches at her cockiness. “No actually… I wanted to come here to say that it’s completely done. I know we’ve been broken up for a while but we can’t keep texting or calling or talking in school. I’m really done with this now.” I explain. She lifts an eyebrow. “Come on Chris it’s fine.” She smiles putting a hand on my shoulder. But I step back letting it fall. “No it’s not. I really like y/n and I’m not going to ruin that. Now give me her hair tie back.” I say with a blank face. She scoffs “If you say so.” And takes the scrunchie out of she hair and handing it to me. “Bye Ameila.” I say and walking away.

People always say that getting over your first love is the hardest. So I thought Amelia would be hard to let go, but I’m realising that y/n was my first love in a way. I loved her first. I was never in a relationship with her, but I loved her first.

Now I’m stood outside my best friends house on Friday night, not knowing what’s about to go down. I take a deep breath, maybe 2 or 3 before knocking on the door. Nervous.

After a short moment she opens it. “Chris?” This is it. I’m telling my best friend I’m in love with them. I’m telling y/n I’m in love with her.

a/n: bit of a cliff hanger sorry

[urimaginarygirlfriend]

hey marie!! how are you my love??

i miss you xx 🫂💗

hiii manny!!

i miss you too, i’m sure you’ve seen me subtly stalking your page every few days. i’ve got my first uni class starting on wednesday and i’m very nervous but also very excited. it’s an intro latin class and while i’m typically terrible with languages, i feel this will be different. no one here is studying classics but i am and i feel like i’ve already isolated myself.

also, i find it hard to eat 3 meals a day. just being on campus for the weekend has proven to me that i’d rather be productive or entertained than get up and eat a meal. it is very scary as someone whose always had body issues but never an ed. i don’t want uni to be the place where it starts (as much as i pretend to). i’ve bought some snacks to keep in my dorm but i also have tea and i’m worried it’s too effective at curbing hunger.

and finally, i’ve been thinking a lot about my art and my existence as an artist in general. i want to commit to being an artist. since i decided not to go to film school or study literature, i have to be serious if i ever want to be noticed. write and create obsessively as if i’d die without it. and i think following other artists on social media has been hurting me. because i just consume their content without creating any of my own. in joana rakoff’s memoir “my salinger year,” she works as literary agent. she spends so much time reading other people’s work that she forgot she was a writer herself. that’s slowly happening to me, in some weird way.

and i feel discouraged because no one is noticing me. not even my ‘so-called’ friends! they don’t watch my videos, they don’t read my short stories, and they sure as hell don’t watch the play that i took a lot of time recording and uploading so it’d be accessible. i feel like i’m doing all i can and just nothing is working. i’m a tree falling in a forest when no one is around…

i hope to submit to some literary magazines and screenplay/playwriting contests before the end of the year. maybe make another short film too that no one will watch. idk i just don’t know how to not stagnate. i know success isn’t overnight but i look at big creators and it feels like theirs is. or at least, they had some fans at the beginning. i’m literally starting from nothing.

i got accepted into a film program at the uni of edinburgh that only accepts 20-ish students per year. they wanted to take a chance on a weird american girl making weird art. i had to say no, but they chose me. before i clicked that reject button, i was someone. i was smart and cool and creative and worth something. they looked at me and thought i could go far with only a bit of guidance. now, i’ve got nothing. i’m an idiot with a camera in one of the worst cities in the whole US and i’m rotting away my life. do i still have the chance to be someone if there’s no one looking?

sorry if this got too deep and you didn’t read to the end. i’ve been writing about this in my diary for months with no one to tell because i wasn’t sure anyone cared. but i’m sure you care… right?

[skepticalarrie]

This ask has me seething with rage lol. It’s not about being British, it’s about class and if you are not British working class then you won’t get it.

Firstly, you’re not comparing how British Harry and Louis are by talking about their likes and dislikes, I was raised on a council estate in Cheshire very close to where Harry was raised and let me tell you, he was very very comfortable before the band. I am not saying he was rich because there’s a massive difference between £60k a year and multimillions but he would not have had to think about money growing up, he lived in a very safe area, he was incredibly comfortable and that comes with a certain amount of financial conservatism regardless of how socially liberal you are, as well as general ingrained “snobbishness” which is not me insulting him, it’s just the culture.

Chavy would’ve been an insult to Harry’s family. Louis on the other hand was raised working class, again I’m not saying he was on the brink of homelessness, but definitely living paycheck to paycheck rather than with a buffer to fall back on if anything went wrong. The area itself was less affluent, less safe, more multicultural (Cheshire is white, especially 15+ years ago). His background and priorities and comforts from his youth are different to Harry’s, he has the working class camaraderie, he likes the pub (I could write an essay on Harry’s local vs Louis local but only British people could understand it lol) and football and fastfood and whatever else you deem trashy or chavy because he did grow up as what Harry’s peers would call a “chav” and he’s allowed to reclaim that. It is nice when you’ve been called a chav too to see someone like you not immediately distance themselves from the working class when they make it big and I suppose you either feel that or you don’t.

Also, imagine being from that background and then overnight you’re a millionaire. You can lose your identity. Again I could write more about why it was essential for Louis and Zayn to have each other so as not to totally lose themselves because you can’t take a working class northern teenager to Hollywood and expect them not to be psychologically affected, so I think it’s impressive that Louis has been able to combine those identities and carry his past with him whilst also obviously enjoying the finer things too.

That was an essay and I only got like half of my thoughts across sorry Allie, but basically what I want to say is stop policing how Louis identifies with the social class he grew up in. It’s not an act, he’s not deceiving anyone, he has expensive taste too and he’s not hiding that, he’s just proud of where he came from and it’s insulting when people can’t accept that he’s a multifaceted person.

Thank you so much, anon! I appreciate this message so much. When I used the argument that “Louis is just very british” and reclaiming his roots, I thought about developing the thought but I don’t think I’m in a place to do that since I’m not british in the first place. And you just did that in a beautiful way. I don’t think people fully realise how americanized their images were back then and how much the industry still keeps forcing artists on that. So when we see someone is so openly proud of something that is not american at all, that comes across as weird and forced. It’s a shame.

In reference to this and this

[cierraonline]

S1EP5: OWNING MANHATTAN! SILLIE TIMELINE! SIREN REVEALS HER EYES!

1

"I'm working late 'cause I’m a singer." 

"Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger."

2

"Are you cooking tonight?" 

"Do you only ever think about food?" 

"Yes."

3

"Who's your celebrity crush?" 

"Eminem." 

"Oh... I thought you were going to say me."

Rolling….

Whatever TF This Is Podcast 

Season 1 | Episode 5 

OWNING MANHATTAN! SILLIE TIMELINE! SIREN REVEALS HER EYES!

"Well, it's been a minute," Billie starts the podcast. "I know it's been like three weeks since you’ve last seen us, and we have a good reason."

"Not really," Siren shook her head.

"We’ve been in Europe for my mini press tour for Hit Me Hard and Soft, which was fun and way different than doing a press tour in the States."

"It’s less invasive," Siren clarifies. "I feel like European reporters ask appropriate questions, while American hosts and reporters ask inappropriate questions that are disguised as appropriate ones because Americans are obsessed with having to know every little detail about you, which is fucking weird."

"You guys! Literally after we left and went back to the hotel, Siren went on like an hour rant about the differences."

"Because it’s like, why are Americans like this?"

"Anyways, if you forgot who we are and what you are watching, I’m Billie Eilish, this is my beautiful soulmate Siren Vixen, and you’re watching 'Whatever the Fuck This Is Podcast,'" Billie does the infamous introduction of the podcast. "On the couch, we have Claudia and Finneas, and behind the camera, we have Rodrick."

"You guys were in Europe for only five days… what happened the other two weeks?" Claudia questions from the single chair.

"You see… what happened was," Billie trails, not spitting out the answer quick enough for Siren.

"We started watching Owning Manhattan on Netflix, and that just spiraled into a fixation on watching other real estate and home improvement shows," Siren chimes in.

"Is that why you guys haven’t been coming downstairs?" Rodrick questions.

"Yes."

"Ooh, I’ve been meaning to watch Owning Manhattan," Claudia shortly gasped. "Is it good?"

"It’s very problematic for no reason. It’s like if bad reality TV and the HGTV channel had a baby."

"Just know in this household we don’t like Jonathan or Chloe," Billie makes a disgusted look, just thinking about a few of the agents on the show.

"Are they that bad?"

"Jonathan is just a narcissist who thinks he's some god given gift who will bring young people into real estate, which he has the potential to do, but he just ruins it by being so fucking rude and exuding narcissistic energy," Siren was internally trying not to go on a full rant about the asshole.

"Oh my God!" Billie loudly groans. "I fucking hate him. He and this other irrelevant agent…"

"Jessica," Siren fills in the blank for Claudia.

"Those two dumbasses did a podcast with the company’s resources and basically talked shit about Savannah, who was an agent under apprenticeship. And when they were talked to about it and told they were fucking wrong which they righfully were, they made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. As if they didn’t just publicly embarrass someone in the company who is learning and wanting an opportunity to show her talents. But when Ryan said something to them it was 'that was not my intention' and 'I'm so sorry,' but they didn’t say it to Savannah, the person that was targeted. And then this jackass, Jonathan, was told to apologize to Savannah just for him to not even apologize and tell her she could learn from the situation… Are you dumb?" Billie ranted, getting red and annoyed in the face.

"Anyways…" Siren side-eyes her wife, seeing how worked up she was getting. "After we finished watching the series, we watched other shows, and it just somehow weirdly led us down the path of looking into what properties we want to buy and try to sell."

"So you guys are going to do real estate?" Finneas asked.

"Yes."

"No." Siren turns her head to the left to look at her partner. "We are not doing real estate."

"I think we would be good at it," Billie shrugs her shoulders. "We can be a real estate couple like Trish and her husband."

"No."

“Let’s change the subject before it turns into another fight,” Claudia interjects. “Give us the timeline of your relationship,” Claudia requested, leaning forward with curiosity.

“It’s not going to make sense,” Finneas said, shaking his head, knowing how the story unfolds after years of observation.

“Yes, it does,” Billie said, getting playfully defensive. “It’s a beautiful story, as a matter of fact.”

“But very confusing to the average person,” Siren agreed with her brother-in-law. “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to have crushes or boyfriends because of Billie.”

“Because you’re mine,” Billie shrugged her shoulders possessively.

“Didn’t you have the biggest crush on Justin Bieber and three boyfriends before Siren?” Rodrick interjected, recalling the brunette’s dating past.

“So you see how messed up the situation was,” Siren laughed.

“One, we all knew I was never going to get with Justin, and two… no comment,” Billie said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“You’ve always been possessive and obsessive about Siren, and I don’t think anyone knows where it comes from,” Finneas said, tilting his head with curiosity.

“Neither does our therapist,” Billie admitted, shaking her head. “I would say it all comes from this feeling that travels through my mind, heart, stomach, and other places I won’t mention in front of my brother…”

“Her pussy,” Siren said bluntly, not caring to filter herself.

“Anyways!” Billie exclaimed, blushing as everyone in the room laughed at her. “I just get this Joe Goldberg feeling when it comes to Siren. I’ve always had this deep need and dependency to know every thought, emotion, move, and decision Siren makes. It’s psychotic, but I mentally and physically justified it.”

“And that’s where the clinginess comes from,” Siren concluded.

“I lowkey don’t like when you say that because it makes me feel like it’s not reciprocated. As if you aren’t as clingy as me,” Billie pouted.

“Your habits when it comes to me caused you to be clingy. Conditioning caused me to be clingy,” Siren differentiated for her wife. “And these are the words coming from our therapist.”

“Whatever, I’m happy just the way I am,” Billie rolled her eyes. “Here’s the timeline of our relationship,” she said, looking to Claudia and transitioning back to the original question.

~~~

**YEAR 2001**

“Billie, you have to stop crying. There is nothing wrong,” Maggie cooed at her newborn baby girl as the newly-formed family of four sat out in the front yard having a picnic.

“Do you want your rabbit, Billie?” A three-year-old Finneas tried to soothe his baby sister, holding up her stuffed brown rabbit. But this only made her wails louder.

“Maybe she’s just fussy,” Patrick suggested.

“Patrick, it’s been two hours,” Maggie looked at her husband with concern. “I’m surprised she hasn’t passed out yet.”

A few feet away, Enzo came running, carrying a six-month-old Siren towards the small family. “Hey Maggie, Patrick! My sitter canceled on me. Do you think you can watch Siren for an hour so I can pick up Travis from his play date and go grocery shopping, and head to my surrogate for a breast milk restock?”

“Enzo… breathe,” Patrick O’Connell, the 44-year-old father, guided the frazzled 25-year-old, standing up and gently taking hold of a giggly baby Siren. “We got her, you go do what you have to do.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you guys,” Enzo smiled with appreciation as he was a single father navigating parenthood alone.

“You don’t owe us anything, Enzo,” Maggie shook her head. “It takes a village to raise kids, and we are your village as you are ours.” She offered a gentle smile while still rocking a fussy baby.

“I know,” The Italian man took a deep breath. “I appreciate all the help you’ve done for me and my family. I’ll be back in an hour, and after that, I’ll help you with the fence, Patrick.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Patrick smiled warmly. The Vixen father turned and ran to his car, leaving his baby girl with the people he trusted more than anything in the world. “Siren, do you want to meet someone new?” Patrick headed back to his spot.

“Meet the newest addition to the village, Billie Eilish Pirate O’Connell,” Maggie leaned over, showing the six-month-old the newborn. Like magic, blue eyes met blue and green eyes, and silence followed. “She stopped,” Maggie smiled, then went back to a comfortable position, only for Billie to wail once she lost eye contact with Siren.

“I think we just found a solution to the wailing,” Patrick chuckled.

“What?” Maggie furrowed her eyebrows.

“Siren,” Patrick said, holding the baby near Billie, and as predicted, the wailing stopped.

“Love at first sight, don’t you think?” Maggie smiled.

“Mama,” Finneas crawled closer to his mother and the two girls. “They have the same eyes,” he pointed out.

“You are absolutely right, Finneas,” Maggie smiled down at her son, then turned to look at the two girls’ eyes.

~~~

“Wait, you have two different eye colors!?” Rodrick and Claudia exclaimed simultaneously.

“You guys didn’t know that?” Finneas asked, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“No!” they replied.

“I honestly thought they were brown,” Claudia said, revealing her shock.

“And you always wear contacts around me,” Rodrick added.

“Wait, so you and Billie have the exact same eye color?” Claudia asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” Siren said in a ‘duh’ tone. “What do you guys think I mean when I say T’Challa is my biological kid?” She mentioned her pride and joy, a black Maine Coon cat that had her exact eye colors.

“I just thought you were one of those strange cat ladies,” Rodrick shrugged.

“Can we see your eyes?” Claudia asked with fascination.

“Okay,” Siren shrugged, taking out her white-out contacts and revealing her natural eyes.

“Awww,” everyone gasped in awe.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” Rodrick gushed, looking at his best friend’s eyes.

“The right eye is literally a duplicate of Billie’s. That’s crazy,” Claudia said. “Your eye is literally proof that you guys are soulmates.”

“I can’t believe you guys thought her eyes were brown,” Finneas laughed. “Literally no one in the Vixen family has brown eyes.”

“Well, I just assumed her surrogate would have brown eyes, so she inherited that. Plus, let’s not act like brown isn’t a dominant eye color,” Claudia tried to justify her reasoning.

“Did we forget I have a pigment mutation?” Siren looked at Claudia like she was dumb. “Brown eyes mean more melanin, but with my mutation, I only have melanin in my skin and no pigment in my hair, body hair, or eyes. But at the same time, green is the brown eyes for blue, therefore one of my eyes is green.”

“Wait!” Rodrick exclaimed but didn’t say anything else as he pieced together the information in his head. “Your hair is naturally paper white? I thought you were just bleaching it.” This caused different reactions. Finneas burst into laughter, Billie looked at him with actual concern, and Siren was just over it.

“Stop talking to me.”

“I guess I will be finishing my storytime later since that’s all the time we have for today,” Billie said, still looking at Rodrick with concern. “Claudia?”

“Wait, before you start with the recap, I think you should have a theme song for it,” Finneas suggested, waving his right hand as he tried to calm down from his laughter.

“Is that you offering?” Siren turned to him.

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“On today’s episode of ‘Whatever the Fuck This Is’ Podcast, we learn that the reason why you haven’t seen an update in three weeks is because Billie and Siren have been fixating on real estate shows. Will they go into real estate themselves?… Probably not. Shoutout to all the Sillie fans out there who asked for the timeline of the two… which Billie did not fully answer with her storytime.”

“Maybe because I was interrupted because you guys didn’t know Siren’s real eye colors.”

“In surprising news, Siren did an eye reveal showing the actual colors of her eyes and if you missed it, they’re not brown like the average person would assume. Finneas and I think they are beautiful and should be shown off more. And lastly, we found out Rodrick is a dumbass.”

“You all act like you didn’t know that already.”

“Right.”

“I’m Billie.”

“I’m Siren.”

“I’m Finneas.”

“I’m Claudia.”

“I’m Rodrick.”

“And that is it for today’s video. See you next week with another 'Whatever the Fuck This Is’ Podcast.”

| welcome to the book I write & edit when high |

[weirdestbooks]

What's In A Name? (Wattpad | Ao3)

for @collar-cat, who has gotten me on a writing streak of baby American colonies.

Virginia hated that their life had to be full of so much death. It was bad enough so many of their siblings had died over the years, but the recent deaths seemed to be the worst. First, it was Massachusetts Bay and Maine, something Plymouth had never forgiven himself for, something that haunted him so, made him withdrawn and quiet.

Then, it was West Jersey. Her death haunted New Jersey the same way that Massachusetts Bay and Maine’s deaths haunted Plymouth. At the very least, New Jersey had New York and Delaware, both of which could pull the third member of their little trio out of his grieving shell and get him to interact with the world again.

Now, it was Carolina. Carolina, who was so kind, with a wicked sense of humor. Carolina, another one of Virginia’s siblings killed by circumstances outside of his control.

The only good thing about Carolina’s death was the fact that it brought new life. Unlike with West Jersey, Maine, and Massachusetts Bay, his colony was not being absorbed by another but instead divided in two.

Virginia had hoped, like when West Jersey was born, that Carolina would remain and that they were simply going to get a new sibling.

Life was not that kind, and Carolina died and divided in two.

North Carolina and South Carolina were adorable, and Virginia knew they would never take the blame for their father’s death. At least, she assumed Carolina would have been their father since they came from his divided land. There was simply no way to tell for sure.

Virginia had been there in Carolina’s final moments, and now it was her job to introduce the two children to the rest of their family. 

“Come on, dears. I am going to introduce you to everyone else,” Virginia said, holding out her hands, which the younger two colonies took, before leading them off to where the others had gathered. As she approached, she saw New York leap up from his seat on the ground, grabbing Delaware and dragging him over.

“More twins?” New York asked excitement in his voice but sadness in his eyes. Virginia nodded. 

“Hello. I’m Lower Counties on the Delaware, but you can call me Delaware. Me and my idiot bror over there are twins like you,” Delaware said, crouching down to the height of the Carolinas—and by God, if that name didn’t send a pang of pain through Virginia.

North Carolina gasped, excitement in her eyes, and she jumped at Delaware, pulling him into a hug. Delaware laughed, looking upwards at New York.

“York, hjälp mig! We need to prove we are the superior twins!” Delaware said. New York just shook his head in amusement before picking up North Carolina. The newborn colony was only physically five, and New York carried her with ease.

“That’s not fair!” South Carolina said, crossing his arms in the most adorable pout Virginia had ever seen, “You’re big!”

“And thus we are superior—ow!” Delaware’s claim was cut off by South Carolina kicking him in the side, and Virginia couldn’t help but laugh at his plight.

“How about we settle this later? We still have many people to introduce North and South Carolina to,” the older twins nodded, with Delaware picking himself off the ground, rubbing at his side. At the same time, New York lifted North Carolina above his head.

“Look North! You’re flying!” New York said before picking up the pace of his walking, causing North Carolina to let out peals of laughter. 

“Hey, I wanna fly,” South Carolina said before kicking Delaware in the shin, “Make me fly.”

“Why are you so violent?” Delaware said, staring at his newborn brother in shock.

“Make me fly!” South Carolina just said, crossing his arms.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m not tall or strong enough,” Delaware said. Delaware’s status was weird. He was not an official colony of his own right and was actually a part of Pennsylvania. He had enough autonomy to exist, but he was weak and often felt sick. Some days, it was hard for him to do anything because of the weakness his status gave him. Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York tried to help, but Delaware was still limited.

“Why not?” South Carolina asked, looking upset.

“Delaware is very sick, South. If it says he can’t do something, he can’t. You can ask New York if he can make you fly when North Carolina is done, but Delaware cannot do that for you.” Virginia explained, her voice gentle. South Carolina didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t complain, just marched angrily away.

“I’m sorry, G—”

“You didn’t ask to be sick. It’s not your fault,” Virginia said, ruffling Delaware’s hair as he leaned into her side. 

“I know. I just…I wish I didn’t have to be sick. I wish I could be my own colony and not have to go to bed wondering if I’ll be able to wake up the next morning.” Delaware said. Virginia pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“I can’t do anything to help relieve those fears but remember, Portsmouth, Warwick, and Newport are still around because they have enough influence as cities to be around. You have far more than them. You will live,” Virginia said. Delaware pulled away, crossing his arms.

“But they don’t have to be sick.”

“Del—”

“It’s fine. I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too soon after Carey.” Delaware said before walking off. Virginia shot a concerned look at her brother before rushing over to the newborn twins. New York had placed North Carolina back onto the ground, and Uncle James was standing by them. The rest of her siblings stood by awkwardly, and Delaware quickly joined them, leaning against New Jersey.

“I’ll do you after you’re introduced to everyone else, I promise.” New York was telling South Carolina as she approached. South Carolina nodded.

“Are you ready to be introduced to everyone else?” Virginia asked.

“I already said hi to Uncle James. He’s funny!” South Carolina said, his grumpy mood gone and replaced by a cheerful grin, “He says he’ll help me and Northie become the superior twins.”

“Verraad! Verraad! Betrayal by my dearest Oom? I can’t believe it,” New York said, smiling amusedly at their uncle. Uncle James rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too.

“Oh, are we taking Yorkie down a notch? I volunteer to help.” Connecticut said, walking up to them, before smiling down at the younger two, “Hi, my name is Connecticut.”

“You would you—” Virginia cut off New York by clapping her hands together.

“Okay, we can save this chitchat for later. Can we please just get through introductions before we all scatter and probably cause great harm to York.”

“Uh, we don’t have to do the last thing—”

“Great, glad we’re all in agreement about needing to do introductions,” Virginia said, cutting off New York again and getting an overdramatic gasp in return from the colony, “North, South, these are your older siblings, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations—”

“Wow, that’s a long name!” North Carolina said, her eyes wide with shock. Newport laughed.

“That’s because my brother here is trying to make up for his height by having a long time,” he said, pulling Rhode Island and Providence Plantations into a side hug. Rhode Island and Providence Plantations scowled and pushed Newport away.

“Fuck off, you’re smaller than me,” he said. Newport laughed again, dancing away to hide behind Warwick. It was nice to see the cities laughing and joking around. They were quiet more often than not, and they would have periods of time where they would sleep for years and not be around. 

They always seemed to know when someone was about to die, though. They were always awake for that.

“Rhode Island is what we call him. His name’s a bit too long,” New Hampshire added, “I’m New Hampshire, by the way. The shortie making fun of Rhode Island’s height is Newport.”

“And I’m New Jersey, a great way to add to the very confusing list of people who have new in their names,” New Jersey chimed in, a forced grin on his face. He wasn’t all that used to his new name. Of course, he was actually using it, unlike Plymouth.

Virginia gave a concerned look to said brother, not liking how…blank his face looked. She would have to talk to him later. Between West Jersey and Carolina, he was only becoming more withdrawn. 

Virginia was worried he would start disappearing and sleeping for long periods like the cities were doing.

Virginia was broken out of her thoughts when Warwick and Portsmouth introduced themselves. 

“And who’s that?” North Carolina asked, pointing at Plymouth. 

“That’s the countryhuman of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, but his name is—” Virginia was cut off by South Carolina walking over to Plymouth and sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Massachusetts Bay!” he said loudly. The world seemed to freeze, and Plymouth flinched, a shudder going through his body and Virginia watched her little brother begin to fall apart again. Plymouth’s face was consumed by so much pain that it looked like it physically hurt him.

“Actually, South, his name is—” Virginia began, desperate to salvage the situation before Plymouth started begging for God to strike him now again, a prayer she had heard far too many times over the last twenty years.

“No Gin. It’s okay.” Plymouth cut off, causing Virginia to recoil in shock.

“What?” she gasped incredulously. Plymouth willingly wanted to be called Massachusetts Bay? He wasn’t going to protest it? To scream and cry and break down in her arms again? 

“I…I…” Plymouth began before stopping, licking his lips, “I need to get used to it. And…it’s better for the young ones to know me as what I am, not as what I was. It’ll prevent…confusion.”

“Are you sure?” Virginia pressed, concerned. She knew that Plymouth felt he needed to get used to the name eventually, or at the very least before they got through to their father about their existence, but the reaction he just had to being called Massachusetts Bay was visceral.

“Yes,” Plymouth said harshly before turning to North and South Carolina. “My name…name is Mass…Massachusetts…Bay. Just….call me Massa…Massachusetts.”

Every word sounded like it hurt him to say, like it caused him physical agony to force them out of his mouth. Virginia was going to be talking to him later about that. Once they were alone. It seemed Plymouth didn’t want to make a scene. 

Sharing a look with Uncle James, Virginia could tell he felt the same.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“Plym, we need to talk,” Virginia said, cornering Plymouth a few days after the birth of the twins.

“No, we don’t,” Plymouth said, turned away. 

“Okay, let me rephrase that. Massachusetts Bay,” she said harshly, noting Plymouth’s full-body flinch. “We’re going to talk.”

Plymouth stopped, turning back to face her, eyes wet and face distraught.

“I have to, Mom. I have to,” Plymouth said. Virginia walked over and embraced him.

“I know, I know,” Virginia said, hating how she could feel her own voice breaking, “But not like this, not when it hurts you.”

“But I need to. I’ve been Mass’s land for twenty years now, and I’m still clinging to the name I used to go by. You don’t hear Delly or York calling themselves New Sweden or New Netherlands, do you? I’m being stupid,” Plymouth said, pulling away and refusing to make eye contact with Virginia.

“That’s different, and you know it. Del and York are both replacements. They don’t remember much about who New Sweden and New Netherlands were because they are different people! You were born to be Plymouth. Of course, you will cling to that, especially since you became Massachusetts Bay against your will. Those situations are nothing alike, so you shouldn’t compare them.” Virginia said, grabbing Plymouth’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m never going to be ready unless I make myself do this,” Plymouth said, sounding so broken that it hurt Virginia to hear him this way.

“It’s okay if you’re never ready. It’s okay if you want to be called Plymouth. There’s not any humans demanding anything from you because we’re in Father’s head. You can be Plymouth for the rest of your life if that’s what you need. No one will make you be Massachusetts Bay if you don’t want to.” Virginia said. She saw tears begin to drip off Plymouth’s chin, and when he spoke, there was a raw pain in his voice.

“I need to. Massachusetts Bay died and…I need to honor him and make sure he didn’t die for nothing, and by denying the name and role he gave me, I’m being selfish!” Plymouth said.

“It’s not your fault,” Virginia said. Plymouth looked up at her, eyes red from crying.

“Yes, it is,” he said, voice resolute before he stormed off. Virginia shook her head, her own tears falling now.

“Oh, Plym,” she muttered, “No one has ever blamed you.”

The only person who blamed Plymouth was Plymouth, and he had been torturing himself about it ever since.