#I’m mean and selfish fuck the distribution rights

[what-the-fuck-khr]

they’ve started to upload KHR episodes to YouTube except. how about Shonen Jump kills themselves huh. how about they go die. huh

[skybrightpixie]

like i said earlier, i wrote something from tóm's point of view. the setting is his bedroom in front of a mirror before he's about to go to work.

cw: mentions of abuse, relapsing, mentions of sex (but nothing beyond that)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I look good.

Don’t I?

I feel like I look good. This is how I always dreamed of looking.

I…

…look…

…fine?

At the very least I look fine.

I keep myself hygienic. My hair is healthy. I’m not as fit as I could be, but it’s not like I’m usually planning to run a marathon.

I look. Fine.

I look fine. Other people think I look good. I feel good, and I’m confident, too.

Well, maybe that part about other people thinking I look good is true. I mean, it kind of is? No, what they mean is that they think Thomas looks good.

Thomas isn’t Tómur, to them.

It should never be.

I kind of wish it were, though…

I feel so nauseous hiding this part of me. And the fact I feel nauseous about it sickens me.

What right does Tóm have to feel sick about it? I’m a murderer. I’m selfish. But what I’m doing has got to be right.

No, people love Thomas because he does so much actual good for them. Thomas is confident—I’m confident. I make medicines and distribute them to everyone in need for absolutely nothing. I’ve made prosthetics and provide therapy and-

And I work so hard.

I work so hard… For what?

I’m trying to continue Mom’s work for her. She did so much. She did everything I’m doing better than I could. If she were alive, right now, she’d be so embarrassed of me…

I’m nothing like her. I’m so tired. I feel pathetic. I’m being selfish. I’m so selfish. I have to keep pushing. I have to keep working like she would have.

Dad said that she loved me. I think she loved me, she must have. She worked so hard for us and for everyone in the world. I have to keep pushing myself and continue to make them proud. I have to make my family proud. I hope they’re watching me.

God, please don’t be fucking watching me. I’m so embarrassed to be me. I wish I was never born. I’m embarrassed to be alive. I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you. I have to keep going, but what for?

SELFISH. FUCKING SELFISH.

You’re doing this for everyone else! It doesn’t matter how tired you think you are. You’re a useless person and this is your retribution. Keep going. You have to help make everyone’s lives easier. Because it’s unfair.

Suck it up. Damn it, my face is covered in tears and I’m- I’m shaking. I can’t go to work like this… I need to call in—no! But I’m so tired—but people need me! I’m supposed to be there for them.

You’re going to let people down, either way.

…

I’m not going to work today. I wasted my time washing up and getting dressed because I can’t even look in the mirror for two fucking minutes without breaking down.

I’m so useless.

I feel like throwing up.

I wish I had someone to cuddle, right now… It would feel so nice…

Who would even want to look at somebody like me. Some sorry man on his knees in front of a mirror in his room. Alone. Alone.

How long has it been since I was with him? How long has it been since I-... I buried his fucking body in the ground. He’ll never touch me again. I’m happy he’s dead.

But… I miss him.

Oh god, why do I miss him, right now!?

I miss when he held me. I miss when he was gentle with me. I miss when it felt like he loved me. It felt like he loved me. But he was so… He was so bad for me. He lied… He LIED. And he used me. He was going to hurt Ei Phyu! I’m glad I killed him. It felt so good driving that knife into him. To watch him bleed. Watch him suffer like he made me suffer. I don’t want to miss that bastard.

But I wish I had somebody to hold me, right now…

Why would anybody want to hold some guy weeping on the floor? I’m so pathetic. I’m pathetic to miss him at all. How could you miss him? You really are desperate. To be so stupid that you would want him back just because he was the only person who held you.

I feel… needy. I want somebody to want my body, right now. What!? Where did this even come from? You’re lying on the floor crying and you want to have sex?

It feels good. It felt good. I haven’t been touched that way in so long. I thought I looked good. Why am I not desirable anymore? Maybe my body doesn’t actually look good. Maybe he did something to mess it up and I haven’t noticed this whole time. Or maybe I did. No, I didn’t. I like my body the way it is. But it isn’t desirable.

I feel so sick. Maybe I don’t deserve to have sex. I feel so disgusting. I feel messy. He did always say that I got messy during sex. But I couldn’t help it. I want to be held. I want my body to feel respected and loved. I want my body to be torn apart with how much they want me.

I’m nothing. I’m nothing. I’m never going to be touched again. People want commitment. I can’t give them that. I just can’t. But maybe I should consider pushing through it if I want to be fucked so badly. No, no—that would be disrespectful to them. I would be as bad as him.

I’m becoming as bad as him..?

I can’t even get hugs without asking first.

Because you made it a point to draw hard boundaries. Because you’re scared. And your friends respect your boundaries. It’s your fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s always my fault.

I deserve all of this.

[cassandraclare]

I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(

I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records. 

I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too. 

Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.

And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught. 

I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.

Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them. 

The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.

I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author. 

However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)

One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.) 

 I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book. 

That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.

[indigo-brainspark]

Percy Jackson's Persephone: An Analysis

Pssh, Persephone, right? Queen of the Underworld, Bringer of Death, the one Hades will do anything for? She's awesome!

Except... Not so much in the PJO universe. Not to say she isn't awesome there either, but Persephone doesn't appear much there.

(the movies don't count. Fuck the movies)

In fact, her major appearance in the books, is in the short story The Sword of Hades, which centers around Persephone sending Nico, Percy and Thalia to retrieve a stolen sword that was meant to be a new symbol of power for Hades. This is important because a symbol of power has great status in the Olympian world, and could be seen as Hades trying to gather up more power than his brothers.

We find out at the end of the story, that Hades didn't ask for that sword to be made. In fact, it was made even though he had forbidden it. Because Persephone believed that he deserved more power. This was a ploy by Persephone to get more power for them.

Does this make her a selfish person? Or even a remotely bad person? I mean, the story makes it seem that way. But I believe Persephone was acting on a pretty well established characterization of herself. So that's what I'm doing here, defending her actions, or at the very least rationalizing them, and giving input as to what kind of person she is in the Percy Jackson lore.

Please remember that the gods aren't always nice people, and are capable of doing very amoral things, but you still like them, okay?

[[More]]

Okay, so, chronologically, her story starts with her mother. Most importantly, how Demeter is incredibly doting on her, to a worrying extent. In fact, in Percy Jackson and the Greek Gods, it's mentioned because of this, she has the general disposition of a bratty child. And it's only when Hades takes her away that she actually starts making mature decisions.

We see this sort of thing happening in front of us in The Last Olympian, where Demeter's constantly ripping into her for all her choices, despite Persephone's attempts at making her stop.

Mythologically speaking, Persephone isn't even called Persephone when she's with her mother on the surface. She's called Kore, or Maiden. She's literally another person when she's in her presence.

Then comes the problem of her children. Now, Persephone doesn't have many children in the mythology itself. She has four possible children, one of whom (Makaria, goddess of blessed death) is only offhandedly mentioned. Though it should be considered that she's a psychopomp, or person who guides souls to the afterlife, and has been since she was very young.

Zagreus is another child, he's kinda well known, though he doesn't appear in the books. Hera gets the Titans to eat him when it turns out that Zagreus was probably gonna be the next Olympian king. They have to get a mortal woman to give birth to him again. (Long story)

Melinoe, actually does appear in the books, and funnily enough it's in the same Sword of Hades short story Persephone's first major role was in. She's jumped ship to the Titans and actually helped Ethan Nakamura to get away with her father's new sword.

Then there's Ploutos, who's parentage is heavily debated on to this day. (It probably contains either Tyche, Demeter, Persephone, Zeus, Hades) but he's the god of wealth, and Zeus ends up blinding him to ensure he can't discriminate in distribution of wealth.

I feel like we're sensing a pattern here. Time and time and time again, politics has taken over to prevent Persephone from being happy.

Her husband is constantly shat on by the rest of the pantheon. Her children become stepping stones or pawns or traitors. Her mother treats her like a child.

So why shouldn't she be allowed to be bitter?? Why should she be condemned for being ambitious?? For wanting power???

Underneath all the poise and grace, I think she's just hurt, and bitter, and understands more than Hades that conflict is necessary.

As seen in the Lightning Thief, the Underworld is a difficult place to manage. It's larger and more expensive than the domain of the other two. He's having trouble keeping up, and needs that extra power. Being the firstborn son, Hades has the right to rule Olympus. He's more suited to, in fact. But he doesn't. And that makes her angry. Because Zeus is a terrible ruler.

So she's doing it for him. She has the ambition that Hades is missing. She dabbles in the politics Hades refuses to participate in. So why would shouldn't she have that power??? It doesn't make her a bad person.

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {5}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Dinner at the Archeron’s, part 1.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.” ― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper 

Azriel sat on a bench in the middle of the courtroom. 

Mila was with Rhysand, out for breakfast, before he had to go into work.

It had been a long week. After Amarantha had shown up at his apartment after being released from the hospital, she enlightened him that she would have a hearing, and was not expecting good news. 

You fucking overdosed, again. Mila found you, couldn’t wake you up, and went to your neighbor’s house...A four year old! Azriel had spat at her. You have fucking drugs in a house with a toddler! It’s not your fucking four year old’s responsibility to save your ass.

Amarantha hadn’t said anything back. She simply nodded, and brushed it off.

They’re going to send me to jail, Az. To prison. For a long time. Amarantha almost seemed guilty at that, but the haunted look in her eyes didn’t last long. She was shaky, jittery, unnerved. Her mind wasn’t really there. Her mind was still on whatever it was she was recovering from. 

Now, he watched as Amarantha sat before the judge. 

He didn’t feel guilty, felt no remorse, as she was charged.

Possession. Distribution. 

When I get out, she’s going to be a young adult, at the least, Amarantha had told him as they sat around his kitchen table, four days earlier. Believe it or not, Azriel, I do love my daughter.

Azriel shook his head, but had nothing left to say. 

I want you to take her, Az. Care for her. I have told them as much, social services, through my lawyer. That you are her only relative, and that she’s close to you.

She was selfish, cruel, and Azriel had been forced to put up with way too much of her shit over the years.

But he couldn’t have Mila going into a home. 

“Twenty years in the Velaris state prison,” the judge said, at last. “You will be detained straight from here. Mercifully, I will give you a moment to say goodbye to your family.” 

The judge dismissed the courtroom, and a pair of burly cops followed Amarantha to where Azriel stood. 

“You didn’t bring my daughter?” she asked, brows raised.

“As someone who just lost twenty years of their life, you don’t seem too bothered,” Azriel muttered. “And, no, I didn’t think she should have to watch her mother be dragged away. Again.” 

Amarantha shook her head. “At least bring her to visit me?” 

Azriel didn’t respond. “I have to go meet with cps and make sure Mila isn’t thrown into the system.”

Like we were. 

Much to Amarantha’s protests, Azriel turned his back to her and walked out of the courtroom. He didn’t know why he hated Amarantha more: because she was a selfish bitch, or because she reminded Azriel of his mother.

It was an addiction. Azriel understood that. It was called an addiction for a reason, it was hard to shake, hard to stop, hard to get rid of. But, it still pissed him off. It all pissed him off, unbearably. 

Azriel had been eleven when he got home from school and found his mother, unconscious on their living room floor, again. Only that time, she hadn’t woken up. After that day, he was forced into the foster care system, tossed around from home to home and eventually placed with a couple, and Amarantha, none who could care less about him. 

All because of that damned, selfish addiction his mother had.

That Amarantha had. 

His meeting with cps hadn’t lasted long. Amarantha had told them about him, she was honest about that. Perhaps in some way she did care about Mila, even if she didn’t show it.

They did a background check on him. The only thing they found was a few speeding tickets and that one time he spent the night in jail, at seventeen, because he’d had too much vodka at a party. 

“Look,” Azriel said, once they said they had heard enough and would give him a call. “I love my niece. And she needs me. She knows me, she trusts me, she’s stayed with me for half her life. You can’t put her into foster care. I was in foster care, it’s...you can’t put her into foster care.”

The woman behind the desk smiled softly at Azriel. “I’m just the interviewer, but I will pass the case along, and they will give you a call soon, I promise. You’re Mila’s only relative, aside from your foster parents, but they don’t wish to have a part. You have no criminal record. You have your own home. I see no reason why they would not leave Mila in your care. When they do call, and they approve of her staying with you, there will be paperwork to fill out. We will have you back in the office at that time. Until then...comfort that child. She just had her mother taken away.”

Again, Azriel added, silently, for the hundredth time that morning. 

“Thank you,” he said, attempting a smile as he stood and left the office. 

Azriel made it to his truck and shut himself inside. His eyes closed in the silence. Deep breath in, slowly let it out. Repeat once, twice, three times.

He had to go get Mila from Rhys so that he could go to work. Azriel had to get to work himself, work on the garage at the Archeron’s. 

All he wanted to do, though, was sit in silence for a minute. Five minutes. Ten. 

Fuck addictions.

Fuck substance abuse.

Fuck it all. 

Azriel leaned his head back against the truck seat and ran his hands through his hair. He thought of his mother, then realized he could barely remember what she looked like. He remembered the dark hair, like his, the hazel eyes….he could also remember she always had dark shadows beneath her distant eyes, that she was way too thin. He remembered the way her hands shook.  

He couldn’t remember what she looked like when she smiled. 

Azriel put his car in reverse and left the courthouse.

He kept the radio off. 

~~~~~

“You’ll be there tonight, right?”

Nesta had said yes every day since Elain asked at the beginning of the week. “Yes. Seven?”

“Six, I thought we could have drinks while dinner is being made,” Elain beamed. “Oh, Nesta, I’m so excited. So is dad. Feyre’s bringing Rhys along. Oh! Is Tomas excited? We can’t wait to meet him.”

Nesta froze. Tomas. She had completely forgotten. “Oh, I-”

“You’ve never brought a boy home,” Elain continued. “I mean, this is monumental! He must really be special.”

“About that-”

“I hope he likes chicken. He does like chicken, right? I mean, everyone likes chicken. What’s his drink choice? Bourbon? Rum? Or, is he just a beer kind of man?”

“Elain-”

“Oh, I’m so happy, Nesta. This house deserves a little party. For once, it won’t just be me and dad.” Elain sighed. It was the first time Nesta had heard her become excited in quite some time. “I’ve got to run to the store. I’ll see you at six, right?”

Nesta’s eyes shut. “Right.”

“Okay, bye!” Elain beamed, hanging up.

Nesta was left sitting in her apartment, groaning. “Fuck!”

Tomas had left. To go where? Nesta had no idea. He hadn’t called, but he texted a few days before saying he was leaving town. Even if he had been in town, the chances of him going to a family dinner were slim. He wasn’t the family dinner type.

Nesta dug through her purse for a cigarette, but the box was empty. She had to make a drug store run before she completely lost her shit. 

There was one on the corner that she made it to in five minutes, and after fueling the tobacco industry, which even she didn’t happily endorse, she was walking back home, a cigarette between her lips. 

“Do you ever have a good day?”

Nesta twirled around.

Cassian was walking toward her, sweating, his dog on a leash. 

“You look pissed,” he went on, “literally at all times.”

“And you have a way of sneaking up on me when I don’t want you to,” Nesta drawled. “Which is always.”

Cassian chuckled. “Well, whatever it is today, hope it gets better. The drink offer still stands. Come over if you wanna get hammered.” 

A thought entered Nesta’s mind, but she quickly pushed it away. No. She would not become desperate. She would go to dinner, alone, and tell Elain and her father that there was no Tomas, not anymore, that even Nesta drove away a worthless bastard like Tomas Mandray. 

She would endure their disappointment and answer all the questions they had. She would absorb their sympathetic glances and be told, Don’t worry, a man will come along some day by her father, just as he did when she was in high school. 

The thought made her want to vomit.

“You’re free tonight, then?” Nesta blurted.

Cassian stopped midway up the stairs, on the landing. He turned around, brows raised. “Coming for a drink?”

“Eh - no. I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner,” she grounded out, attempting to sound pleasant, but fully realizing she was not. 

Cassian blinked. “Dinner? With you?”

Nesta nodded, slowly.

She needed a shot.

Or two.

Cassian grinned, hazel eyes glowing. “Yeah. Alright. That sounds...interesting enough for a Friday night.”

Nesta scowled. “Be ready at five-thirty.”

Cassian’s grin widened as he nodded, turned back around, and walked his dog up the stairs. 

Nesta had a feeling she should go back to the drug store and get a bottle of tequila.

Which is exactly what she did.

She would need it.

~~~~~

“Mor and Amren will both be here tomorrow afternoon,” Feyre called from the bathroom, where she had just finished drying her hair and was applying her makeup. “We should all go out tomorrow night.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand agreed, his voice quiet from his bedroom. “We should.”

“Have you heard anything else from Az?”

“No,” Rhysand said, and she could hear him sigh. “I can’t believe Amarantha….what a bitch.”

Rhysand had his own reasons for hating Amarantha, on top of her putting Mila in harm’s way. They had dated for a little while the summer after high school, even though Amarantha was a few years older than them. She was a bitch then, too. Amarantha moved on from Rhysand fairly quickly, her drug problem got significantly worse, and then she got pregnant. 

“Poor Mila,” Feyre agreed, putting on a pale, pink lipstick. “At least she’s got Az.”

Rhysand agreed and met her in the threshold of the bathroom. He looked impressed, eyeing the gray sundress she wore. It reached halfway down her thighs, the fit loose, but hung low enough across her breasts to catch an eye. 

“You look nice,” he smiled.

She shook her head, unable to stop a smile of her own. “You say that like I hardly wear anything cute, ever.”

When Rhysand didn’t answer, she punched him in the shoulder, and he laughed, and that tingly sensation filled Feyre to her very core. It had been happening more within the last week. She would catch Rhysand, watch him when he wasn’t aware, and find him attractive, want to run her fingers through his hair, across his skin. She would lay awake at night, pleasuring herself, and it would be his body, that chest covered in ink, that she would picture. 

And he had no idea.

And she would keep it that way. 

“I do prefer you in your scrubs and sweatshirts, yes,” Rhysand grinned, eyes mischievous. “But, the dress looks good.” 

“Thanks for coming with me,” Feyre said, zipping everything back up into her makeup bag. “My dad always liked you.”

Rhysand nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, humor fading. “Of course.” 

Feyre pushed past him, her shoulder brushing along his arm, as she hurried into her room. “Should I wear sandals?”

“I assume they’ll come off the minute we walk through the front door, so does it really matter?” Rhysand asked, following her and dropping himself onto the side of her mattress. 

“Yes,” Feyre said. “It does.”

Rhysand chuckled. “Fine. Yes, sandals.” 

“Brown or white?”

Rhysand pretended to think about it for a long time. Too long. 

“You are the worst at helping a woman get ready,” Feyre laughed, bending down to observe the shoes in the bottom of her closet.

Rhysand snickered, but he didn’t deny it. His eyes lingered as he watched her bend over. “Wear the black ones.”

Feyre gave him an intrigued glance before pulling on her black sandals and looking at herself in the floor length mirror. 

She turned to Rhysand, brows raised. “Good enough to impress my father, whom I haven’t spoken to in months?” 

“Well,” Rhysand began, eyes soft, “I think you look beautiful. Who cares what he thinks.” 

“You’re too nice to me.” Feyre meant it as a joke, but her voice came out quiet. She had a feeling her cheeks were turning pink, but she hoped that they weren’t, or that he didn’t notice.

He was watching her, his gaze unwavering. 

And then he sucked in a breath, stood, and smiled. “Well, ready? We should get going.”

Feyre nodded, that feeling still flying about wildly in the pit of her stomach. “Ready.”

“Alright. Let me get my shoes and my wallet.” 

He left, and Feyre finally let out the breath she felt she’d been holding.

The way he was looking at her…

She didn’t think she was imagining it anymore. 

~~~~~

Elain had a long list of things to do that day and she had managed to get through them all. Now, she was at her final stop, a flower stand outside of the grocery store. Her reusable bag was tossed over her shoulder, full of goods that would make up their feast. Now, she needed to arrange a beautiful centerpiece. 

“A dozen tulips,” she smiled, once the owner had asked what she would like. “Pink and white, please.”

He nodded and gathered a bundle before wrapping them up and handing them over. Elain paid, thanked him for the beautiful flowers, and stepped to walk away.

“Lain!”

Elain spun around, smiling at Mila, who was running toward her, Azriel close behind. 

“I didn’t see you today,” she said, wrapping her arms around Elain’s legs. “I missed you!”

Elain had spent every day for the last week playing games with Mila while Azriel worked. She was a great kid - kind, funny, polite. Elain enjoyed her time with the little one.

“I’m sorry I was gone. I had a lot of errands to run today. My sisters are coming over for dinner tonight. It’s a big dinner.”

“Ah, Rhys mentioned that,” Azriel said, taking Mila’s hand to keep her from straying on the busy sidewalk. “We weren’t there too long, today, anyway. Had some stuff to get done this morning, unfortunately. Took longer than expected.”

Elain nodded. That may have been the most he’d said to her at one time. Azriel was distant, she noticed, not having to speak unless spoken to. He hadn’t said a word to her all throughout high school; but, then again, she hadn’t spoken to him either.

They were from two different circles, two different worlds. 

“Well, I hope everything is okay,” Elain replied, quietly.

“I like your flowers,” Mila’s little voice popped up, before Azriel could respond. “They’re sooo pretty.”

Elain smiled and knelt down so that she met Mila at eye level. “Which ones do you like better? Pink or white?”

“Pink!” Mila said, then stuck out her foot. “They match my shoes.”

Elain laughed, softly, as she nodded. “You’re right, they do.” She pulled a pink tulip from the bouquet and handed it to Mila. “Bring this home with you and put it in a nice big cup of water. Make sure it gets sunlight, too.”

Mila’s eyes went wide and she threw her arms around Elain’s neck, who laughed and patted her back, trying not to lose her balance.

“I will,” Mila promised, smiling at the flower, her flower.

Elain stood back up to find Azriel watching her, curiously.

“Well,” Elain began, cheeks heating. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?” 

Azriel nodded.

“Okay,” Elain breathed. She turned back to Mila. “Bye, Mila.”

“Bye, Lain,” she smiled.

As she turned to walk away, Azriel called out, “Elain?”

She turned around.

He was rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. For the flower. And for watching her, too.”

Elain nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She walked away, wondering if he was watching her walk away, but too nervous to look back and find out. 

On the walk home, her mind wandered. She wondered what their story was, why Mila was staying with her uncle. They seemed to have a strong bond. She wondered what had happened to Mila’s parents. 

Azriel didn’t seem like a horrible person, either, no matter how intense he seemed to be around her. She remembered the first conversation they had, when he told her that he remembered her from high school, and what he remembered her for. Cheerleader. Valedictorian. She was perfect, goody-goody Elain Archeron, top of the totem pole. 

Oh, how far she had fallen on that totem pole. 

She wondered what Azriel thought of when he looked at her, wondered if he truly got to know her what he would think of her, then. But she wanted to know him, wanted to dig inside of his mind. He was mysterious, a notorious rebel - at least, he had been. She didn’t think much had changed since high school. He was still mysterious, still unreadable. 

And utterly handsome. 

Elain got home and started marinating the chicken before finding one of her mother’s old vases and setting the flowers inside with water. She set it in the middle of the table, took a step back, and smiled.

Even with one pink tulip less, it was breath-taking. 

~~~~~

Nesta pounded on his door at five-thirty. 

When a second passed and he didn’t answer, she pounded on it, again.

“Hold the fuck on!” he shouted, then she could hear his heavy footsteps.

The door swung open and she rolled her eyes. He’d yet to put on a shirt, but he was wearing jeans and his boots. His hair was tied back and his eyes were amused.

“In a hurry?” he asked.

“Yes, we have to be at my dad’s in half an hour,” she muttered.

He lifted a brow. “Already meeting your dad, am I?” 

As he went to grab his shirt off the couch, Nesta sighed, “Look. I’m not….on the best terms with my family right now, and my sister has been going through a shit time. She was excited about me bringing my boyfriend, but he bailed a few days ago. I couldn’t tell her that I’d be coming alone, because that would just open a huge can of disappointment, which is basically what I’m known for in my family. So, I asked you to come along and take his place.”

Cassian watched her while the words poured out as he buttoned up his shirt. “I see. So...I’m your boyfriend, then?”

“Pretend,” Nesta added. “Obviously.” 

Cassian tilted his head. “And here I was, thinking you had finally come around and wanted to spend time with me.”

Nesta snorted. “Don’t come if you don’t want to. You know what? This was a mistake-”

She turned to leave but Cassian beat her to the door. He leaned against it, crossed his arms, and grinned. “Say you want me to come, and I’ll come. I’m great with parents.”

“What?” Nesta asked, exasperated.

His grin grew. “Say you want me to come, and I’ll come.”

Nesta shook her head. “I’m not saying that.”

The dark barked from the corner, sensing her tone from where he laid on his bed.

“Down, Bryaxis,” Cassian ordered, eyes still on Nesta’s. “Say it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’ll please you,” Nesta snapped. “And I don’t want to please you.” 

“Fine, then I’ll stay here, me and Bryaxis will have a drink or two…”

He stepped away from the door and opened it up, gesturing for Nesta to leave. She wanted to slap him in the face, punch him in the balls, but all she managed to do was stomp toward the door, eyes narrowed.

And then she imagined Elain’s disappointment and her father’s endless string of sympathetic questions.

She stopped at the threshold and looked at Cassian, seething. “I want you to come,” she whispered. 

“What?” Cassian asked, pointing to his ear. “Sorry, can’t hear you.”

“I hate you,” she mumbled.

“Hmmm?” Cassian crooned. 

“I want you to come,” she said, over-pronouncing each word. “So grab your fucking keys.”

Cassian’s hand flew to cover his chest, right over his heart. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Fuck off,” she mumbled, before exiting his apartment, her middle finger raised high in the air.

Cassian’s laughter just pissed her off more. 

They got into his truck and he drove, the radio on a random rock-station. The sun was bright, although it would be going down soon. 

“So, if I’m playing the part of your lover, I should probably know a little bit about you.”

Nesta sighed. “Fine. What do you think is important to know?” 

“What did you do after high school?” he asked, eyes still on the road. 

“Worked,” Nesta said.

And when she didn’t say anything more, Cassian looked her way. “Mind telling me where?” 

“Odd and end jobs, mostly. The last few years I was a bartender, but I got fired this week.”

Cassian was quiet. Then, he said, “Sorry to hear that.”

Nesta shrugged and looked out the window. 

“What do you like to do for fun?” Cassian asked, hoping to take on a lighter tone. 

“Read,” Nesta said. “Drink.”

“Together?” Cassian asked, brow raised.

Nesta snorted. “Everything is better when you drink.”

“Agreed,” Cassian smiled. 

“I prefer we keep my current lack of employment a secret for the night,” Nesta mumbled. She didn’t want to give her father any fuel. 

“I can do that,” Cassian agreed. “Anything else I should know? How did we meet?” 

“At the bar,” Nesta suggested.

“At the bar?” Cassian asked. “How romantic.”

“Trust me, no one will be surprised,” Nesta said, under her breath. “Up here, first house on the right.”

Cassian pulled into the driveway and parked behind Rhysand’s car. 

It was going to be an interesting night. 

~~~~~

Elain was a natural planner, she was completely in her element.

Feyre caught her eye every now and then and smiled. It had been a long time since they all were under the same roof.

The front door opened and Nesta stepped inside.

She wasn’t alone.

“Cass?” Rhysand asked, looking back and forth between him and Nesta. “The hell are you doing here?”

Cassian smiled, arm flung around Nesta’s shoulder. She tensed, but quickly relaxed. No one could say anything more before Elain hurried in, carrying a tray of cut fruit. 

“Hi! You must be Tomas,” she smiled. “I’m Elain.”

Feyre opened her mouth to say something, but when she did, she came up speechless.

“You can call me Cassian,” he said, smiling in that charming way of his. “Tomas is my middle name, and Nesta prefers it. Apparently, Cassian is a shit name.”

Elain blinked. “Oh, well, nice to meet you, Cassian.” 

“You, too,” he said, before walking into the room and taking a seat by Feyre. 

As Elain went to finish up dinner, Feyre turned to face him. “What the fuck?”

“Long story,” he muttered. “Play along and I’ll fill you in later.”

Feyre had met Tomas before and she was perfectly aware that he and Cassian were two very, very different people. She also knew that her sister didn’t know Cassian that well, so asking him to come was her being desperate.

Feyre had never known Nesta to be desperate.

Nesta sat, too, although she didn’t acknowledge Feyre. Feyre didn’t care, didn’t think anything of it. Her and Nesta had hardly talked in years. 

Her eldest sister stayed quiet while the others chatted and ate Elain’s fruit platter. Half an hour passed before Elain appeared, once more, and invited everyone into the dining room. 

“Where’s dad?” Nesta asked, the first words she had spoken.

Elain’s smile faltered as they all took a seat. “I’m not sure. He said he would be here-”

The front door burst open, and through the opening of the dining room, they could see Isaac stumbling inside.

His brown eyes were wide when he looked up and met everyone’s stares. “I’m-I’m sorry I’m l-late.”

Feyre’s shoulders fell as she looked over to Elain. 

He was trashed. 

Her eyes were wide, her lips parted at the sight of their father, clearly disheveled, clearly drunk. “Dad, it’s family dinner night, remember?” 

“I know, I know, yes,” he said, hurrying into the dining room and taking a seat. “I-I said I’d be here. This looks delicious, Elain, you did wonderful.”

Elain cleared her throat and tried to smile. “Well, let’s dig in, then.”

Feyre loaded her plate with chicken and vegetables, looking around the table as she did so. Rhysand had moved closer to her, as if sensing her discomfort. Nesta was staring at her plate, empty. Elain was picking at a pile of broccoli. And Cassian didn’t know what the hell was going on. 

“You must be Nesta’s boyfriend,” Isaac said, looking at Cassian. “What was your name?”

“Cassian,” he provided.

Isaac shook his head. “N-No, I don’t think so.”

Cassian took a bite of corn. “Pretty sure my name’s Cassian.” 

Isaac looked confused, but he shook it off. “Nesta, I-I’m glad you came. I-I didn’t think you w-would.” 

Nesta’s mouth tightened.

The table fell into silence as everyone picked at their food. 

“What have you been up to?” Isaac asked, looking at Nesta, then to Feyre. “What have any of you been up to? I don’t hear from either of you anymore.”

“Just work,” Feyre said, so Nesta wouldn’t have to. “I broke up with Tamlin a while back. I’m living with Rhys in the city.” 

Isaac looked at Rhysand, eyes wide as if just realizing he was there. “Finally a couple, are you? That’s-That��s great. I always kn-knew you two would end up tog-g-gether.” 

Rhysand paused, but continued eating a second later.

“Just friends, dad,” Feyre said. 

Isaac scoffed. “Whatever you say. We all know w-what’s really going on.”

“Dad,” Elain breathed. “Could you not?”

“And what about you, hmm?” Isaac said, eyes on Nesta. His fork had a piece of chicken stabbed on the end, but he wasn’t eating it. “Are you living with this...Cassian?”

“No,” Nesta answered, shortly. 

“Still scared of commitment?” Isaac asked, leaning over the table on his fist. “She always had trouble with that. Never trusted anyone, pissed off at the world.” 

Nesta said nothing.

Her plate was still empty. 

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Cassian assured him. 

Feyre was still looking at Nesta, on the way she concentrated on the white porcelain disk in front of her. She couldn’t remember the last time they were all together, especially in the same room as their father. Nesta and her father never gotten along, but it had really gone down hill after their mother passed.

“Still making drinks for a living?” Isaac asked, as if Cassian hadn’t said a word. “That’s what I hear you do. M-make drinks.”

Nesta didn’t answer.

“You always get so angry that I’m not there for you,” Isaac slurred. “But here I am, as-asking about your life, and you’ve got nothing to say?”

Nesta slowly looked at her dad. “You’re drunk.” 

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “I am not.”

Feyre shook her head, and just as she was about to speak, Nesta beat her to it.

“You really think we don’t know when you’re intoxicated?” Nesta laughed, humorlessly. “We’re not children. And we’ve seen you drunk plenty of times. Elain tried to prepare this nice dinner and then you come in here acting like a teenager who snuck into his dad’s liquor cabinet!”

Isaac shook his head, finally setting his fork down. 

Elain looked like she was about to cry. 

“You c-can’t talk to me that w-way,” Isaac said, voice quiet. “I am your father.” 

“Dad-” Feyre began, but Nesta held up a hand, cutting her off.

“I am a grown ass woman,” Nesta said, with a deadly calm. “You’re an embarrassment.”

“Me?” Isaac asked, brows shooting up into his hairline. He looked to Cassian. “Run now, son. This one is going nowhere with her life.”

“Please,” Elain breathed. “Stop.”

Rhysand had his hand on Feyre’s knee under the table to keep it from shaking.

“I think you should go up to bed, dad,” Feyre said, lifting her chin. “Sleep it off.” 

“No,” Nesta said. “Let him say what he has to say. Drunks always tell the truth.” 

Isaac stood and wavered on his feet. “Your mother...good thing she didn’t wait to see how you turned out.”

Elain gasped, and Isaac turned to leave.

But as he did, he fell to the ground, out cold against the hardwood. 

The room was met with silence. 

“Help me get him upstairs,” Feyre mumbled.

Rhysand nodded. 

Elain was in tears.

Nesta was fuming. 

Cassian was sitting in his chair, perfectly still. 

Feyre grabbed her father’s legs as Rhysand lifted him up from under his arms. As they carried him up the stairs to his bedroom, Feyre felt like she was in high school all over again.

Family fights.

Taking care of her drunk, passed out dad.

Isaac telling Nesta that their mother would be ashamed. 

Yeah.

Just like high school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[blacksunscorpio]

Scorp you're a genius! So relatable and I love how you don't judge others or anyone who comes to you for help. Keep it up! I just had to ask since I see that you make pop culture references to make analogies with astrology. You've mentioned GoT a few times and im a huge fan! Can you do a quick post on Game of Thrones characters and their potential zodiac signs? I'd love to hear your input! Thank you so much!!

Game of Thrones Characters & Their Zodiac Signs

Aries

Khal Drogo- Impulsive. Warlike. Bloodthirsty. Alpha. Conqueror. Hardcore athlete [did you see him on that horse?] Extremely sexual. Forceful. When he first meets Daenerys, he forces himself on her. Afterward, however, he is the first to go to war if he feels the people around him have been disrespected.

Aerys Targaryen- Impulsive, sadistic. Boastful. imperial. He would be the Emperor [reversed] in Tarot, lol. Not as good with being a tactician as he ought to have been. Cruel. Rage problems. The need to be the first and the best. Fire and blood, anyone?

Taurus

Maergery Tyrell - Classy, wealthy, sexy, laid-back, frank but with an air of elegance. Highgardeners have a love for the finer things in life. A love of fine wines and foods. Beautiful clothing and aesthetics. RICH RICH. Get on their bad side and they will take their time finding a way to subvert your authority.

Robert Baratheon- Love of luxury, bullheaded, strong, takes no shit. Fixed in his opinions of others, highkey jealous. In his youth, he enjoyed the gifts of Venus: Charm, wealth coming from the noble house of Baratheon, widely considered handsome by almost all in the 7 kingdoms. 

Gemini

Tyrion Lannister- Silver-tongued. HIGHKEY intelligent. Social. Charming. Great sense of humor. A freak [in the sheets]. Chatty. Always finds his way out of a sticky situation. Finds a way to use his intel to bolster diplomacy between his family and the families who hate them.

Little Finger- Cunning, quick-witted, works behind the scenes, manipulative, a  snake, jack of all trades. Top dog in the social circles of the 7 Kingdoms. There wasn’t a person who didn’t know of him and his... reputation. He singlehandedly, through his Machiavellian tactics, caused the events of Game of Thrones to unfold. 

Cancer  

Cersei Lannister- Protective, moody, caring [to her kids], motherly, cantankerous, jealous. A savage. People don’t give Cancer’s the credit they deserve in terms of what they’re capable of. Cersei is a prime example of the type of person who can show unrivaled levels of devotion to the one’s they love. “No one matters but us.” She can be cruel because she lets her emotions rule her actions. When her safety is threatened, she makes sure no one else feels safe either. She loves with a ferocity only rivaled by...

Catelyn Stark- Another mother who would die [quite literally] for her children. Fierce, Protective. Doting. JEALOUS. Let’s not forget how she treated Jon all because she believed Ned’s lie about him being a bastard. Followed her son into battle. Damn near lost her hands fighting off Bran’s would-be assassin. 

Leo

Jaime Lannister- Proud. Handsome. Princely. Funny. We seem him go from underdeveloped Leo [arrogant, selfish, bully, prideful, snob, loyal to no one but himself] to developed [Kind, helpful, warm, honest]. Fought bears for his friends. Skilled and proud fighter even without the use of both his hands. Unfortunately, his loyalty caused him to stay loyal to his twin towards the end, but such is the nature of a Leo. They’re hard-pressed to abandon those they truly care for.

Brienne of Tarth- LOYAL. Proud. Devoted. A bit of a flare for drama especially brandishing her sword. Brienne is the definition of Leonine traits. Hard to miss. Devoted to those who show her kindness, i.e Renly, Catelyn, Jaime, Sansa, etc. Always at the front lines in war screaming “STAND YOUR GROUND”. Unrivaled levels of bravery and courage. Not to be fucked with. A true Queen.

Virgo

Samwell Tarley- Intelligent. Scholarly. Methodical. Always with his nose in a book. Unproblematic king. Caught the things everyone else missed, especially when he was an apprentice in Old Towne. Figured out how to cure Jorah Mormont’s affliction on his OWN without any formal training. Genius.

Lord Varys- Remember, Virgo is also ruled by Mercury who is the most cunning of the planetary rulers. Varys always had a spy to collect intel on everyone. A tactician. Never lost his temper. Always had the scoop but didn’t partake in gossip for gossip's sake. Not afraid to be critical or tell those “in charge” his opinion. We can see this specifically when he critiques Aerys, Daenerys, and Robert. 

Libra

Davos Seaworth- a skilled diplomat. Davos is always seen seeking balance and fairness in the situations he finds himself in. The minute you see this man in a scene you know he’s going to give a moving speech and get someone out fo a sticky situation. He convinced the Iron Bank to support Stannis. Convinced Daenerys to entertain Jon Snow when they traveled to Dragonstone. Always breaking up a fight. He is in full support of law and order, especially when he called for Melisandre’s head after discovering her part in Shireen’s death [RIP.]

Rhaegar Targaryen- Had a love of music. Harmony. Balance. He brought two families together [Stark and Targaryen]. He was also blessed by Venus in my opinion because he was said to be extremely handsome. A fabulous singer. A fighter yes, but a lover first. Very good with diplomacy but not the best with defending himself against his cousin sign, Taurus [Robert Baratheon].

Scorpio

Daenerys Targaryen- Many see her as an Aries but I have to respectfully disagree. Daenerys is a Scorpio in my opinion. Remember, Scorpio is honorary fire. She was literally “reborn from the ashes”. A Phoenix, Scorpio’s final form. She went from a silent and meek girl to a skilled and commanding Empress. Unlike Arians, she did not jump headfirst into battle. It took many arrows in her dragons, many slights to her ego, copious council from her advisors, dozens of her loved ones lost for her to go nuclear. Like her father, she hungered for power, a very Scorpionic trait. However she, unlike her father, listened to reason [Jorah, Tyrion, and Barristan Selmy]. She had a long fuse until she didn’t, and then that’s when she rained fire and blood on everyone in King’s Landing. She was skilled at retribution and was unapologetic with it *cough* the Tarleys *cough*.. Unlike Arians who pop off at the drop of a hat, she gave her enemies fair warning if/when they crossed her.

Arya Stark- You already know what it is with this one. Arya is pretty much death [Pluto], personified. Stealthy. A tactician. VENGEFUL. I think we all fist-pumped when she served Filch Walder Frey his sons in that pie. Never forgets a slight. Keeps a list of people who’ve wronged her [All Scorpios can probably relate]. You never see her coming. She is “no-one”. She is the assassin that slips through the back. She may seem calm at first but trust that she has been planning your downfall for a while. LOYAL. The definition of a Scorpio.

Melisandre- Dark. Mysterious. Unafraid of the occult. So much of her life is unknown and I’m sure that’s how she preferred it. Even her Lord of light was mysterious. Strong supernatural abilities and highkey psychic. Knew immediately how many “eyes” Arya would “close.” Had ties to the underworld which is demonstrated with her ability to resurrect the dead. Came through at the clutch in the last battle wielding fire [Mars] with her witchcraft. It’s no secret that Scorpios are some of the most skilled in sorcery.

Sagittarius

Missandei- Exotic. From Naath which is an island just above the mysterious continent of Sothoryos. A world traveler. Lucky enough to escape slavery [until the end]. Jupiter's influence is here in my opinion because she is so kind and friendly. Also a polyglot and gifted with the ability to speak 19 languages. Her fire is seen at the end of the series when she tells her best friend “Dracarys”-- meaning “fire” in High Valyrian. She isn’t afraid to call wrath down on others.

Olenna Tyrell- Loud, unapologetically blunt, zero-filter, feisty. Olenna to me is the definition of Sagittarius. Always speaks her mind. Clap back queen. Will call you out. Was also quite promiscuous in her younger years. Very charismatic and extremely likable despite her penchant for saying whatever was on her mind.

Capricorn

Tywin Lannister- I can’t see the patriarch of the most notorious family in Westeros being anything other than a Capricorn. Methodical. Structured. Business-minded. Karmic [A "Lannister always repays his debts"] Cold. Cruel. Unfeeling. Like Saturn, he is the father figure. Basically ran the 7 Kingdoms for Aerys, [which was probably why the latter was so salty towards him.] Always has a plan. The man you want in charge if we’re strictly talking about law and order. Vindictive [had the mountain kill Elia because Rhaegar rejected Cersei.] He’s the ultimate son-of-a-bitch.

Jon Snow- Brooding hero that he is, Bae Jon Snow is without a doubt a Capricorn in my eyes. Duty-bound. Serious. A leader in his own right. Could also be cold and unfeeling in terms of distributing karmic justice. Lest we forget the “fetch-me-a-block” situation with Janos Slynt. In addition, the moment he was resurrected he took vengeance against the black brothers who betrayed him. Saturn, Like Pluto, is all about karmic justice. The beating he put on Ramsey after The Battle of the Bastards was one thousand percent a karmic beating. A proper lover as well, according to Ygritte, Jon also knew how to handle himself in the bedroom, a trait very akin to Capricorns.

Aquarius

Bran Stark- I thought about making Bran a Pisces, but then I changed my mind. Remember Uranus rules sudden insights and hardcore psychic receptivity. It also rules sudden and unexpected catastrophes or surprises/ sudden breaks. Bran suffered a literal “tower” moment at the beginning of the series which resulted in his psychic powers developing. Once he became the three-eyed raven, he became very detached from the world.

Grey Worm- Aquarius is also androgynous. Grey Worm is a eunuch. He is always down to fight for a cause though, specifically his queen’s. Cares about others, specifically Missandei, and was seen towards the latter season speaking up for the Unsullied against the slavers. Fierce combatant but also very detached. His job is his job.

Pisces

Jaqen H’ghar- Much like Neptune, Pisces’ ruler Jaqen has a mysterious and illusive personality. He wears “many faces”. Skilled at illusion and very very intuitive. Has a soft side though which is clearly seen with how he treats Arya. Hardly ever flies off the handle. Calm. Cool. Collected.

Hodor- Sweet and gentle giant, Hodor is a Pisces to me. Affected by psychic trauma, it’s revealed why “Hodor” is the only thing he can say. Calm. A bit of a baby. Caring. Easily adaptable [think of all the terrain he carried Bran through]

Eddard Stark- I don't care what anyone says, Ned stark to me represents the most developed form of a Pisces. Like the Hanged-Man in Tarot that represents sacrifice and which Neptune Rules, he willingly sacrificed his reputation as honorable for his sister, Lyanna. He later sacrifices himself for his children when he died at Joffrey’s [little bitch] command. He is wise. Though appears cold, he is actually a well of feeling and caring. Unfortunately, he also suffered from the naivety of Neptunian influence which is why he wasn’t very skilled at the Game of Thrones, which calls for more tactical ruthlessness. Pisceans however also have the rage of Poseidon flowing through their veins [which people like to forget]. This was displayed when he pinned Petyr Baelish to the Wall in King’s Landing for daring to dishonor Cat by inviting her into a Brothel. RIP, King Stark.

[hiduprakyat]

imagine going to school to learn and all you hear during social studies is just the worst takes you've ever heard in your life

if you are unaware, here in malaysia we are having a white flag and a black flag movement. The white flag movement was started to help people in need of financial of food aid. If you need help you hang a white sheet, shirt, towel, or anything white outside your house, and people with means will come and help you. Inspired by this, a group of young people started the black flag movement. On certain days, people supporting the movement will hang something black (like the white flag movement, anything will do) outside their house, take pictures and post it on social media with hashtags #lawan (oppose) and #kerajaangagal (the government failed). This means we want three things: 1. prime minister muhyiddin yassin (or mahiadin or whatever the hell his name is) to resign; 2. parliament to reconvene; and 3. the emergency to be lifted. On the 1st of august, a rally was held

so we had a "debate" today. Less of a debate and more of a discussion, really. We were supposed to talk about whether we agreed to these movements or not. And really their hot takes are just. Can you believe these people are going to be the country's future? Some of these scorching takes include:

"I disagree with the black flag movement because the pandemic is getting worse and if we change governments now they might not be better"

sis. You remember the fact that you literally just have to choose between muhyiddin and pakatan harapan right? You remember the fact that pakatan harapan was literally the best government we've had since 1957 for the 22 months they were in power until assmin, zuraida and muhyiddin fucked everything up right? You see how everything went straight to shit right after muhyiddin took power right? You read newspapers right? seriously this might just be one of the worst takes I heard today and let me tell you I heard a lot of those

"I disagree with the black flag movement because it's going to cause another covid cluster"

just because we're in art stream and we don't have science doesn't mean it's an excuse for you to be stupid. Remember that those people are vaccinated, wearing masks, and in an open space. Remember that we are not, all 55 of us in a class are going to be squeezed into a small classroom made for 40 in a month, and we are going to have to eat in aforementioned tiny classroom. If you think it's going to cause a cluster we're never going to go back to school as long as muhyiddin continues to be prime minister.

"I disagree with the black flag movement because people are dying and these people are selfish in their demands"

this, my friends, this thee worst take of the day. Look here. I'm not even going to break this to you gently. As long as perikatan nasional aka PN aka penghianat negara (nation betrayer) is the ruling government, the number of covid cases and death toll will continue to rise. That shit doesn't take a political analyst to figure out. The black flag movement calls for all this bullshit to stop so we can concentrate on battling covid and the distribution vaccines instead of watching the backdoor government do politics with our lives and safety for the sake of power and money. They've already destroyed the economy. The longer they take to control the pandemic, the worse it's going to get. We need to get rid of muhyiddin and his ministers once and for all, put a capable cabinet up there and get this thing over with. I literally do not see how is demanding any of the three points selfish. Honestly if you think wanting what's best for our own country and its countrymen is selfish then you can jump in a hole and die for all I care. Society needs less people like you. Fuck you

This whole thing took ten minutes longer than it should have taken, BECAUSE THE PEOPLE WITH THE ABSOLUTE WORST TAKES THAT THE ABSOLUTE MOST TO SAY AND NONE OF THEM WERE VALID. I was the second to last to speak and honestly now I understand why parliament is always so goddamn noisy. I had my cursor on the unmute button for the better part of the half hour and I was so tempted to just press on it and start yelling. But that wasn't going to help with my attitude scores so I just sat there and yelled at my bookcase until it was my turn. And then when it was finally my turn I was so mad I was shaking and probably smoking from the ears. I had SO MUCH to say and there was no way I could express it the way I wanted to in mandarin and my entire thought process was in english. So I just told them off about the clusters through gritted teeth and slammed that mute button after I was done.

I swear to god I'm so mad right now. It happened like fifteen hours ago and I'm still so fucking angry you have no idea. The next time I see these classmates in person I probably need to bring a stick and whack each and every last one of them on the head. That said, 🏴🏴🏴 fuck y'all. This is now a political blog

[spookyc]

Thank YOU for answering! And omg is there more than one mastermind? Spill the tea! ❤

There sure is! Okay, so initially I planned on just Kiibo being the mastermind, as opposite to kokichi, he takes his position as ultimate supreme leader very seriously and so no one takes him seriously in turn. This results in the twist being that he actually did genuinely mean everything he said and was in fact the villain he portrayed himself to be. And while I liked this idea, I didn't think it was enough, I mean, "the bad guy was actually a bad guy" isn't really that fulfilling by itself. But then I had the idea of having two masterminds and suddenly things became interesting. But enough background, let's get into it.

So, the two masterminds we have in this au are Kiibo and Miu, and their partnership was formed during the killing game, or rather, right before. Orginally, Kiibo had no intention of seeking help from his fellow classmates as he simply saw them as subjects under his control. Or, you could even say he them as machines under his control. And the most dangerous of these machines was Miu, because she's the ultimate survivor in this au. Kiibo knew he wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible due to her unfair advantages and inconvenient talent.

He planned to have her killed until an idea suddenly occurred to him. Why get rid of the threat when you can use it to your advantage? He saw how frantic Miu was about not knowing her talent, and so he formed a plan. He asked to meet her in the library and once she arrived, he told her he knew where she would be able to find about her talent. When she asked where, he revealed the hidden door and used his card to enter the room inside. Then he beckoned her inside and closed the door behind her and revealed his true identity as the mastermind of this killing game.

When she inevitably didn't believe him, he referred back to the idea that the mastermind must have a machine that can create Monokuma and reveals Motherkuma. He then tells Motherkuma to "birth a Monokuma" and Motherkuma creates a new Monokuma on the spot. After witnessing this, Miu replies saying, "how fucking typical" this is and asks Kiibo if he intends to kill her now that she, "knows too much." Kiibo is of course offended by this notion and he corrects her saying that he has no intentions of harming her, as long as she listens to what he has to say. Miu rolls her eyes but reluctantly hears him out. Kiibo goes on to explain that he will do his best to uncover the secret of her talent as long as she helps him run the killing game.

He states that he cannot reveal her talent outright because he himself does not know everything it entails and wishes to properly inform Miu when he has figured it out. He also adds that agreeing to this deal will guarantee her survival in the long run. Now, I know this may seem like a one-sided deal on Kiibo's part, and while partially it is, you have to think about this through Miu's perspective. See, Miu is far more antsy about learning her talent than Rantaro was. Because of her inquisitive mind, she can't stand not knowing something, even more so when it's concerning herself. Secondly, I think that Miu might fear that her forgetting her talent had to do with her accident that landed her in a coma.

She might think that she's relapsing and so she's desperate for any clues towards her missing talent. Also, as much as I love Miu, she's kinda selfish, no, more like really selfish. Yeah a lot of things that Miu did in the canon ended up helping others, but she did all of those things out of her own self interest. So, while Miu isn't cool with killing people, it's a necessary evil so that she can discover her talent. And this deal will also ensure that she doesn't die before she's able to find it out. So, she agrees and this is how the two masterminds are established.

Kiibo then tells her everything, the truth of the outside world, his plans for the killing game, etc. He also allows her access to Motherkuma and the creation of Monokumas. From here on, the two work together to monitor the students and to subtly influence the killing game. Or well, Miu does at least. Kiibo leaves most of the technical work to Miu, monitoring the students, asking Motherkuma for security footage, directing Monokuma and the Monokubs according to Kiibo's instruction, and distributing the flashback lights. Kiibo is too preoccupied with his image around the other students to be bothered to do any of the work himself. And while Miu despises having to do all of Kiibo's dirty work, she finds her own enjoyment in her work.

Often times she'll program Monokuma and the Monokub's AI to say something crude, or she'll place one of the flashback lights in a particular obscure place. But regardless of her own enjoyment, if doing this will help her grow closer towards finding her talent, she'll put up with it, if being very snarky about it. She deals with this corrupt bargain for 2 chapters without much complaint, but after the third she goes impatient and begins to doubt if Kiibo intends to keep his end of the deal. When she confronts him about this, he tells her he's working as hard as he can but that the only thing he knows is that her research lab is located on the 5th floor. Miu did not know of the research lab as Kiibo hid the survivor perk from her. Miu grumbles about the lack of info and contradictory story, but after pondering the information about the 5th floor, she starts to conceive a plan.

After the 4th chapter, when Kiibo tells the class about the truth of the outside world, he demands that Miu come up with a way to reinvigorate the killing game. Miu says that she will, as long as Kiibo tells her what her talent is. When he refuses, she tells him that she can summon as many Monokuma as she wants. He argues that he can do the same, and that's when Miu pulls a knife she had hidden under her clothing. She points it towards Kiibo with a smug grin on her face. She says that he is free to try, but that ultimately he will still be outnumbered 2:1.

Realizing that he no longer has a choice in this matter, he finally reveals that Miu is the ultimate survivor. When she asks him what that means, he gives her the key, the survivor perk, and the usb port to her research lab and tells her she can learn more there. She thanks him, and extends a hand saying that she'll take care of the killing game issue as soon as possible. With his signature naivety, he takes her hand and she pulls him close, plunging the knife into his stomach. As he gasps in pain and grasps onto her, she gets close to his ear and says, "How's that for starting up the killing game?"

And she gives a extra twist in his stomach for measure before she retrieves her knife and leaves him to bleed out on the ground. And so the power becomes transferred to Miu, making her the new singular mastermind.

Now I'd love to get more into Miu's character and what she does from here on out but I'll save that for a Miu specific post. Had a lot of fun with this one, especially because it's one of my bigger divergences from canon and I'm quite happy with it. Anyways, thanks for the ask!

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 14

Catch up!

I didn’t even try to fool myself, nor did I shake my head, smiling bashfully while every fiber of my body was screaming for me to say yes. I was the one to kiss him, pushing myself on the palms of my hand so I could hover over him and kiss him slowly, lavishly, lustfully. 

His fingers burned on my skin as he pressed them to my back and caressed the exposed skin until he reached the clasp of my bra and quickly opened it. Harry smiled into the kiss, and I let him push the straps down my shoulder until the bra fell down my chest. The teddy had been a good idea, it made me feel sexy and pretty, and now, with all of its bits and parts, it also protected my skin from his touch. I needed to take him in little by little cause otherwise I felt like I could combust. 

Harry quickly sat up, making me straddle him as his eyes slowly traveled from my chest to my eyes. A bright smile was etched on his lips, even though it was entirely too early to be any kind of happy and his fingers ran down my spine as he gauged on my reaction. 

“How far do you wanna go?” He asked. It was hard to focus, cause his hands were cupping my ass and he had gotten distracted by pressing tiny kisses down my neck and on my soft collarbones. I pushed my fingers into his hair and pulled lightly on it until he finally looked back at me.

“I was thinking about that thing you just said.”

“Want me to eat your pussy while you sit on my face?” His smile grew impossibly wide as I nodded. “Fucking love that idea. Take this off.”

I sucked in the air in my tummy as his fingers brushed over the purple lace and he dipped his face to trap my nipple between his lips. My forehead dropped to meet the top of his head and I whimpered as he bit the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue over it to soothe it.

“Take it off, baby,” he whispered, fingers digging on the meaty part of my hips as he helped me up on my feet. He looked at me as my fingers looped on the fabric and I slowly pushed it down my hips and legs until I stood there, completely naked. 

It was getting easier. There was something in my mind that didn’t give a fuck, that part usually took over when it came to him. 

A burst of deep laughter bubbled out of my lips as Harry hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me back to the bed until I was kneeling in front of him. His eyes were no longer the lovely shade of green that I remembered, they were dark and dangerous, full of intensity that made my body shiver even when he wasn’t touching me. Like in slow-motion, I saw him take his fingers to his lips and lick on them until they were glistening. A hiss left my lips as they met my clit, the cold touch contrasting with the warmth of my skin. He rubbed lightly on my clit, sending tiny jolts of electricity down my legs. I laughed once again, only this time it was muttered and distracted, a telling of the pleasure that was just starting to bubble in my tummy. 

“God, I missed you,” I smiled.

“I missed you too,” he breathed. “It was a long week.”

“Was it?”

“It was, I counted every second of it.”

He didn’t just say it. His lips trailed down my stomach, pressing tiny kisses on my skin that made my heart flutter. I played with his hair and felt his smile as he continued to explore my body. His touch was delicate but urgent, nibbling, licking, and sucking wherever he could find. And I let him, already burning with anticipation for what was to come. 

“C’ mere, pet.” A smile spread on his lips when he lay down on the mattress, and with his hands pressed to the back of my thighs, he pulled me closer, until I could feel his warm breath fanning over my center. My knees were wobbly and the fact that he had decided to slowly make his way up to where I needed him the most, didn’t help at all. He peppered kisses on the inner part of my thighs and hummed lightly as he finally licked a stripe up my slit. I was wet and warm and so fucking sensitive, that was all he needed to do to have me whimpering, and he knew it, cause I could feel the satisfied smirk that curled on his lips. 

“I love the way you taste.” His breath was warm and the air coming from his lips felt so nice against my drenched slit. When I looked down at him I saw him already gazing up at me, with his eyes dark and big as they could be. They were filled with tension and hunger, for me, for my taste. I forgot how to breathed as my brain registered that last bit of information. 

The tip of his nose pressed to my center just a second before his tongue did, and I didn’t look away from him, not even for a second, as his tongue started to play with my clit. Every moan and every twist of his tongue I could feel it deep inside, filling me with urgency and need.  

“Fuck.” My back arched almost without my permission, and Harry took it as an opportunity to grab my hips with his large hands, helping me rock my hips against his face, so his nose and his lips and his tongue were all I could understand in this blurry world. This way, he could reach deep, circling the tip of his tongue on my entrance, and he also could suck on my clit, letting it go with a wet ‘pop’ each time it throbbed. He was looking to drag it out, and torture me in the process, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head at the overwhelming feeling that made my walls clench. 

“Hold on to the headboard, babe,” he instructed. “And fuck my face.”

I did as he told me to, holding onto the velvety material as I rolled my lips slowly, allowing myself to enjoy the feeling of his thick tongue sliding between my folds. Soon enough, his fingers grabbed a hold of my hips, making me go faster and hold to the headboard tighter, as my walls kept clenching around his tongue. 

“Fuck, Harry, fuck.”

“Fuck, moan my name again.”

I didn’t know if his name slipped out of my lips, cause bliss took over, clouding my mind and my senses as I kept grinding my hips against his face, so I could feel it just a little longer. The air burned in my lungs, my legs could barely support me anymore and I couldn’t put two words together, but I felt so good, tired, and happy as if my brain had short-circuited, leaving me stuck in sheer euphoria. 

I barely registered as Harry helped me lie down, and the kisses he pressed to my tummy and chest, as he made his way up to my lips. I licked his bottom lip and smiled at the sweet taste of his skin. It was me, he tasted like me. 

“We’re gonna do that again, ok?” He smiled and I nodded lazily, peering up to him as my fingers brushed over his glistening lips. 

“Great idea.” 

Harry rolled to my side, his lips brushing over my shoulder and my neck as he allowed me to come back from my high. As he did so, and his arm looped around my waist to pull me closer to his chest, I could feel him pressing to my ass. He was hard and a little wet and I turned around to look at him with a smile of my own. My fingers brushed over his chest and Harry held back his breath, looking at me with those same dangerous eyes I had seen before. 

“You’re hard,” I stated.

“And if you keep moving, I’m gonna get harder, baby.”

“Do you miss sex?” I asked him, my fingers reaching to the waistband of his black boxers. He was looking at me, breathing heavily and slowly as he tried to control his own reaction to my touch. 

“I’m pretty sure this is sex.”

“I mean fucking, do you miss fucking?” Harry’s breath became sharper when one of my fingers pushed down the waistband, and I looked at the way his muscles contracted, air puffing out of his lips as his hand pressed to my chin to make me look at him. 

“I wanna feel you wrapped around my cock. What are you gonna do with that hand of yours?”

“I wanna suck you off, can I?”

“You can do whatever you want, baby.”

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say that I’m yours.”

“You’re fucking mine.”

***

It was late when we finally got up from bed, almost midday. It was both great and a shame, cause I had to leave soon to prepare for an interview I had at 4 p.m., but I got to spend my morning with him, laughing and kissing and doing things I could not get enough of. 

Harry looked at me as I put on the teddy back and I glared at him, daring him to say a word about it. He didn’t, silently offering me a pair of clean sweatpants and a t-shirt for me to wear. 

“Thank you,” I whispered. 

“Consider it a selfish gesture.” 

Right. Both Jeff and Diana had arrived at the house about 45 minutes ago, which was the only reason we had gotten out of bed at all. Diana was probably making sure I didn’t miss the interview, and Jeff wanted to discuss Harry’s latest request to add 2 more songs to the album, which was all but ready to go to post-production and distribution (or whatever it was that albums went through before going to the market). They were so close to going to promotion, he was probably there to kill Harry.

“Would you please go down first?” I asked him, which made Harry smirk mischievously.

“Think I already did that,” he shrugged and I rolled my eyes at him, throwing a pillow to his face which he easily took before it hit him. He left the room, not without pecking my lips first, and I breathed deeply, trying to fix my hair so I could presentable in front of Jeff and Diana. 

I could still taste his kisses on my lips, could hear his moans ringing in my ears, and feel his touch burning my skin. He was everywhere, so fucking difficult to ignore, I couldn’t even imagine how I was gonna go on with my life after he left. 

But that was not what was important right then. 

I pulled my hair into a high bun, which hurt my scalp and made my head throb, but it was the best I could do to not look fucked. I was already wearing his clothes, and I probably still smelled like him, even though we had taken a shower, so it was pretty silly of me to pretend like Diana was gonna suddenly miss all of her judgment and just let it go, but I was gonna try. I was not one to go down without a fight. 

When I finally came down, they were all in the kitchen, discussing me and Harry and the next leg of our stunt. I felt weird and invasive even standing there, even if I was one of the subjects directly involved, so I stayed back, listening as they kept their conversation going. 

Diana was sitting on the edge of her stool, looking through pink papers with dates marked on them, as Jeff went through the same information on his laptop. Harry wasn’t paying attention to any of them, leaning over a counter as he ate cereal and typed on his phone. Was he talking to her?

“You have to give me Nashville!” Diana exclaimed with excitement but did not seem happy about the idea. 

“Don’t think so, it’s a surprise event, fans can figure it out.”

“They’re always gonna figure it out. But, listen to me, Sofia can be adoringly watching him perform from the VIP section. She won’t be backstage, maybe that same night she’ll follow someone in his band, even Kacey Musgraves, even though I don’t think S has ever heard one of her songs. But, that doesn’t matter. She won’t be anywhere and the next day she will be seen leaving his hotel. We don’t have to confirm anything, but people will know!”

“What do you think, H?” Jeff asked his friend and Harry looked at him for a second as if he had no idea what he was asking him. 

“Sure,” he finally said, but I wasn’t sure he knew what he was agreeing to. 

“Can you please have a real breakfast, like an adult?” Jeff glared at Harry as he took another spoonful of cereal to his mouth, which I took as my opportunity to walk into the room. My smile was weak and awkward when I looked at Diana, and she looked at me with curiosity, which was not what I was expecting from her. 

“I am eating like an adult,” Harry said. “I even had dessert.” He looked at me just as the words left his lips and his face twisted into a satisfied, mischievous smirk. Oh. I turned around to the kitchen and pretended to serve a cup of coffee, so no one would see the way I was blushing. His statement was simple and probably playful, but Jeff looked at me as if it were the first time he was really seeing me. His eyes took notice of Harry’s clothes and my messy hair and he sighed, going back to stare at his friend. 

“You two do know you shouldn’t be having sex, right?” He asked and I closed my eyes in sheer embarrassment. “This is business and we don’t get feelings involved cause it can get nasty. Neither of you is new at this, you should know better.”

Oh, I felt tormented, rightfully so. Diana perked up at me, smiling when she saw my mortified face, and licking coffee out of her lips as she nodded in silent agreement. Save me, please, I begged in my mind, but she wouldn’t do anything about it. She was enjoying not being the one telling me off. I told you so, she seemed to be telling me telepathically. 

“We’re not having sex,” I said quietly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came here...to sleep. Nothing happened! Nothing’s happening.”

“See? They’re just sleeping in the same bed, like siblings!!” Diana chirped, and Jeff grunted, not believing a single word I had just said. I hadn’t lied, we weren’t having sex, but he was right, we were being stupid. 

Harry looked at us and pushed the bowl of cereal to one side, even if he still had some more to eat. I eyed the box that was right next to him and saw that it was one of those organic cereals, made with honey crunch apples and oats. At home, we also had organic cereal, but something told me it was just Rice Krispies with a good, mindful label on the box. 

“So, Harry!” Diana said, and she was way too happy. Something was coming, I could feel it in my bones and her smiling pink lips. “I listened to a bit of the album yesterday, Jeff showed me so we can work around it.”

“Yeah?”

“Lovely songs,” she almost sang. “You must love your ex so much. Can you even imagine, S? Having a guy so whipped he would write a whole album about you just so the whole world knows he loves you.” Yeah, there it was. She went directly to the heart while she was at it.

“That must be nice,” I said, trying to raise my voice and convey happy emotions, so no one would think it hurt me to admit it. Love was happy, I was happy for Harry. So happy.

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, trying to catch my eye as I did everything to avoid looking at him. “Not everything’s…”

“Lucky girl!” Diana interrupted him before he could come up with any reasoning. “I would be running back to your arms in no time. Even the sad, goodbye songs are a love letter. And she’s gorgeous too, and french! AND Victoria’s Secret model. Jesus, H, you set yourself up for failure there. No girl would be able to compete.” She was on a fucking roll. “Do you wanna hear it too, S?”

“What?” I asked her. 

“The album, of course! In case someone asks any uncomfortable question!” More uncomfortable than this?

“No, uh, I’m good. I, uh, it’s getting late, I’m gonna go get my stuff so we can leave,” I said, acting calmed and collected as I pushed myself up from the chair and grabbed my cup of coffee before I walked out of the room and to the second floor. 

“That was fucking cold, Diana,” I heard Jeff said as I left. 

“I was just praising Harry’s work. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I do love me a good angsty white man.”

“You can’t tell me off for hurting her and then turn around and do the same, Diana,” Harry finally said. 

“Did I lie?”

***

There’s no way of breathing when you’re hopeless. No air can reach your lungs when you’re in despair. I had learned that a long time ago, hiding in closets with Cat, so my dad wouldn't find us. I didn’t have to hold my breath, I couldn’t breathe anyway.  

The fact that I had already accepted that I was just seat filler for his ex didn’t mean that it hurt any less, especially because time was running out and she wanted him back. He was going to leave and I was gonna have to carry on without him, and all these warm feelings that kept swelling in my chest I was not going to have a good use for them. Because Sam deserved better than a broken down doll and I certainly didn’t deserve him. 

I sat on the bed with my phone on my hands, looking out of the window to the wide blue sky. Usually, when feelings became so dark I could see nothing ahead, I would call Sam, and listen to his voice until my own heart calmed down. I had lost that chance. 

Maybe in a few years, I would laugh about this.

“Babe,” Harry’s voice broke in the room, and I turned to look at him, at his worried eyes and his saddened smile. God, no. 

“Hi,” I smiled, a little too widely, a little too sweetly. Being a pathological liar came in handy in moments like this. “I’ll be out of here in a second.”

“That’s not…What Diana said about the album…”

Fuck.

“She’s right,” I rushed to interrupt him, just as the panic I was trying to keep at bay won the battle and started to creep up to my chest until it turned my heart into a tight little ball. If I admitted it before he did, I wouldn’t have to listen to the words as they came out of his mouth and became a fact to deal with. “It must be nice to have someone that loves you so much they need to tell it to the whole world…”

“Sof…”

“And I’m so glad you have that outlet, cause when you have to keep all of that bottled up, ufff...that fucking sucks!!” I widened my eyes to make my point. No, I had no air in my lungs. I had no feeling in my chest. It was all void. “Not that I know, the only guy I’ve ever really loved doesn’t love me back,” I half-laughed, and as the words registered in my brain, I looked at him, the little ball of panic turning into a glowing pit of fiery fear. Please, Shut up!!! “But that doesn’t really matter, y’ know? Statistically, I still have a chance John Mayer would fall in love with me, and I’ll get my very own `Your body’s a wonderland´.” I had lost track of what I was saying, and I wasn’t sure what I was doing with my hands. I looked down to find out that I was still holding my phone. Shut up, please just shut up. “Think I’d liked it better if it were an Ed Sheeran type. It’d be a nice story to tell my kids someday: “Your mom was famous and pretty! Now eat your soup!” I couldn’t even tell if the words that came out of my mouth made any sense, or if I was just imagining them. I was probably just spitting half-formed words by now. 

“Baby…” Harry’s hands reached for mine and my eyes dragged up to him just as the tears started to prick on them. 

My brain kept yelling at me to abort the fucking mission, but I had no idea what I was doing, to begin with. His fingers daintily brushed my hair behind my ear and he smiled sweetly at me. I was entirely fucking crazy, I did not deserve his smile. 

“I know you love her,” I said quietly, just as if the words kept refusing to leave my lips. I was suddenly too tired and too weak to hold it in anymore. Maybe this was the mission my brain wanted to forget. “Just promise me you won’t forget about me.”

Harry crouched in front of me, right between my legs, and it was difficult to believe that just hours before I was having the time of my life with him. If seemed like a lifetime away, one where I was blissfully ignorant. 

“And I won’t. Are you planning on going somewhere?”

“No, you’re stuck with me until the gods of Hollywood decide otherwise” I licked my incredibly dry. My whole mouth was dry. “You can forget about this part, though.”

"I think this has been my favorite part, why would I forget it?"

I giggled as he smiled sweetly and brightly at me and he let his thumb brush over my cheek to dry my tears. He looked at me as if he was afraid that I would break down if he went too fast or if he said the wrong thing, and for the first time in forever I didn't mind being vulnerable. 

"You enjoy watching me lose my mind?"

"As long as it's because of me."

"You're an idiot," I laughed, rolling my eyes as he went to sit by my side and I cuddled up to his chest as soon as he had settled down. Harry’s lips pressed a quick kiss to my forehead and I could feel his smile pushing to the top of my head. 

“You feeling better?” He asked and I nodded, too afraid to speak cause I could still cry. “What do you say if we spent the night together, just you and me? No cameras, no Jeff, no Diana. We can have dinner and watch a movie, here, I’ll cook,” he said softly. 

I looked up at him, at his green eyes and his pink lips. I had his face memorized. If I could paint, I wouldn’t even have to watch what I was doing. I could draw it by heart.

“That sounds a lot like a date,” I muttered. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.”

“Thank you,” I untangled myself from him and got up from the bed before he could pull me back. I was easy to convince. “No.”

“Why not?” Harry got up from the bed and I took a step back to keep the distance between us. It was all I could do to keep my head sane. 

“I don't want you to invite me just cause I had a panic attack in front of you, Harry.”

“It’s a good thing that’s not what I’m doing, then.”

“And...I’ve...I’ve never been on a date,” I mumbled my words, so they would tangle up in the air and wouldn’t reach his ears. But he did and looked at me with a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re kidding me!”

“Nope, I’ve gone out with people, and I’ve let them buy me drinks and get a little too close, but I’ve…” I shrugged my shoulders, not sure why I was telling him this. But now that I started, I really couldn’t stop. “I’ve never dated anyone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged.

“Do you love Sam that much that you would deny yourself that opportunity?”

No. That was not it.

“I know what love does to people, and I’m not sure I want it. So I guess that’s why I have a tendency to go after guys that don’t love me back. Cause they won’t stay and, thus, they won’t hurt me.”

“I would never hurt you, Sof.” Harry was suddenly so serious, I almost felt sorry for wiping the smile away from his face. I liked his smile very much.

“Oh, I know you’re gonna hurt me, Harry. But I don’t care and it won’t be your fault.”

“So go on this date with me, please,” Harry whispered, his hands finding their way around my waist as he pulled me close to his chest. He smelled clean and he was warm and it was so difficult to tell him no. So I nodded, still hiding my face against his chest. 

He smelled so good. 

***

“Congratulations on your latest movie!!” a joyful James Corden chirped, his still thick London accent sipping through his words. 

“Thank you so much. It was so fun being a part of such a spectacular project.”

I was wearing a nice, tight backless black dress, with cutouts on my ribs and blue pumps that were too tall and too small to wear comfortably anywhere. But that didn’t matter, cause I was sitting on the black sofa, while Logan Lerman sat next to me. He was wearing a simple blue buttoned-down shirt with black slacks, and his big blue eyes kept trained on me. We were supposed to talk about a huge Amazon Prime project that was in the works, but just like James, he was hanging to my every word. 

“You have a great accent in it.”

“Oh, my God, I did not! It was awful,” I laughed. Every time I heard Harry talk I realized just how far off my British accent really was. 

“No, it was really great, how long did it take you to practice it?”

“Well, they offered me the role, I did not audition for this one, about 4 months before we went to filming and I took all of my classes for that period.”

“All of them?” Logan asked me and I turned to look at him with a smile on my face. God, he was pretty. 

“Yes, diction, dancing, moving with those big dresses, it was...it was a whole thing.”

“Just as if you were learning just how to use weapons,” Logan joked and my smile turned into giggles as I shifted on the couch. 

“Exactly like that! Walking like a lady is difficult!”

“And now,” James interrupted us, bringing my attention back to him. “You loved London, cause you went there last week. It is a lovely city.”

“The loveliest.”

“Have any British favorite singer?” He asked and the public chattered in excitement as I looked down to my lap with a coy smile. I knew where this was going. I knew what I had to do. 

“Adele.”

“Ok, any male British singer?”

“David Bowie.”

“Contemporary male British singer?”

“Ed Sheeran...I, I have a whole bunch of these, you can just keep 'em coming…”

***

It was already late afternoon when I got home, in a black SUV that Midge procured for me, with its very own driver. I asked him to wait for me while I got ready and rushed past Sam’s car that was parked on our driveway. Diana had driven it there, which probably didn’t make him happy. 

“Mom?” I called for my mother as soon as I got into the house and followed the chatter that came from the kitchen. Sam, his mom Nora and my mother were sitting there, surrounded by fresh tomatoes and jars of olives and what looked like pizza dough left to raise under a red cloth. 

“Honey!!” my mom smiled at me as I kissed Nora’s cheeks and waved my fingers awkwardly to Sam. How do you greet your best friend after you kissed him and took his car to spend the night with another man, anyway? “Are you gonna join us for pizza night?”

“No, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, I’m going out…”

“Oh, are you gonna go out with that boy who is not your boyfriend but you spent the night with?”

“Who is it?” Nora asked excitedly, completely ignoring the way her son’s jaw set in place. God, please, help me. 

“A Harry Styles something,” mom replied. 

“You do know who Harry Styles is, right?”

“No, I don’t. Is he that famous?”

“Lemme show you.”

I adored Nora, she took me in her house when I had nowhere else to go, right before we moved to L.A., but right now, as she pulled her phone out of her purse and cooed about Harry in front of Sam, I wish I could tell her to leave. 

But I couldn’t. So, I turned around and left up the stairs to get ready for my date, not without looking at Sam, who avoid meeting my eyes. 

I didn’t know what I wanted to wear, but it was not this fancy dress. I raided my closet, pulling out every nice outfit I had and tossing it back cause they didn’t satisfy my needs. There was a pile of rejected clothes on my floor and another pile of `maybes´ on the right. I picked up a fuchsia one-sleeved dress and eyed it for a bit before throwing it to the left. 

“You should start with nice underwear.” My mom’s voice startled me and I looked at her with wide eyes as she walked into my room and sat down on my bed, leaning down to pick a red Savage x Fenty bustier that I had gotten in PR, and got up quickly to pick a pair of black, ripped jeans to go with it. 

“I don’t think I’m prepared to discuss my underwear situation with you,” I told her as she looked at the outfit she had just laid on my bed. 

“I guess that’s fair. I think you should go with this one. And you still should wear nice underwear.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as she sat back on the bed. I followed her, untangling my hair from the dry cap I had put it in before taking my shower. I had carefully cleaned every bit of makeup off, cause TV makeup was heavy and tended to crease over time. 

“He is very cute.”

“He is.”

“Do you like him?” She asked, taking the brush off my hand and standing up so she could brush my hair herself. It had been so long since she had last done that. 

“Mom!!”

“I’m just asking! I always thought...Sam’s a lovely kid and I’m glad you have him in your life, but...I also want to see you happy.”

“I’m happy like this,” I looked up at her and smiled, not sure what else to tell her. This was probably the most honest conversation we ever had. Usually, we just went through with life, not acknowledging anything that had happened that night. 

“Don’t...You have to live, Cat and I, we’re ok, you made sure of that, and I’ll...I’ll always appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but...I don’t want you carrying around my mistakes, holding onto a warning story, and letting opportunities pass by you.”

“I know.”

“My mistakes are mine, I just want you to remember that.”

“Thank you.”

“And wear nice underwear. You never know when you’d fall and you’d end up in a hospital. And I work there, so I don’t want people criticizing my daughter.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

My tummy was fluttering as I stood in front of his door, wearing that red bustier and black jeans that fit snugly on my ass. I kept pushing my fingers through my hair and nervously fixing, even though it was already the perfect amount of voluminous and wavy. 

Harry was wearing a simple white cotton shirt with wide-legged gray pants. So I looked like I was going to a party, and he looked like he was ready to snuggle. We were in sync, this was just right. 

“Hi.”

“Hey, beautiful. You ready?”

[cloudyfm]

ok yes i’m here with lilia’s info ur resident demon have fun pals<3

family background - yes this is copy pasted myob<3

ya’ll ever read one of those drug ring ao3 fanfics where y/n is dating the sexy drug cartel leader? well that’s their family!

generational family blood money because that’s how cartels work i think. started running + dealing three generations back with their great-grandparents in order for them to make a living. it wasn’t until the so-called business was handed down to their grandparents that they wanted to expand and generate more money. the big pharma cover was created in order for them to manufacture, distribute, and supply at a larger scale. present day, their family name has notoriety with other cartel and mafia families.

basically avery was supposed to take over because he was the oldest right, but lilia did not want that at all. their parents started favoring avery and schmoozing up to him a little bit to get him to say yes (even though avery was fully prepared to give lilia the position) and lilia was like! what the fuck! so she told their parents about this one time that avery accidentally blabbed the family secret to a stranger at a party which broke their one rule of keeping it a secret. their parents wanted nothing to do with him anymore and completely cut avery off and kicked him out of the family.

everyone knows that avery and lilia are siblings, even though they don’t really know the actual details about their past together because avery doesn’t say anything about his family and the cartel is a secret. now that they are both at yale and in the elites together they are just kinda like haha awkward <3 they basically would just tell everyone that they grew apart if other characters tried to pry but also lilia is now telling people that avery fucked up a business decision which is why he left the family and avery is like alright but good luck trying to get other info out of them! xo, the jeongs

personal background

a legacy and a member of the yale's elite, they're twenty-one and a junior undergrad student majoring in pharmacology. they are as zealous as they are vain.

blackmails: and yes ik we only needed 2 i got pressed and stubborn (drugs tw):

blackmailing vanity fair to keep them from speaking negatively about her and her family by dealing to their reporters. she’s more so doing this to protect herself and her brother than her parents.

is aware of annie and violet’s work arrangements with her family’s drug business. she refuses to involve herself by mentioning that the family they work for is hers and is currently turning a blind eye to the questionable tasks that are asked of them.

purposely sent an ex boyfriend to prison when she was 18 due to her being tired of being in a consistently toxic relationship. she set him up to be found with various bags of illicit drugs (of which were owned by her family) and framed him with possession with intent to distribute and supply to garner a felony charge as an adult.

ok moving to present day stuff<3

ever since avery left the family, her parents have basically put immense pressure on her to fill his spot - the spot she wanted, and since her loyalty is with them and herself, she accepted it and did whatever had to be done. she was 16 when it became her job to take over, so whatever parts of her childhood she had left kind of just left when they began to prime her.

at 18, her mom finally revealed to her that avery had the intentions to give her control of the family when she came of age - something that she didn’t know until 2 years after she fucked up ! her guilt eats her alive to this day, but rather than mending her relationship with him personally, she sends him money anonymously through shorting her parents. 

she actually loves being in the elites ... it gives her such a sense of importance whether or not she is considered a legacy. was kind of excited to join actually and frankly that bit her in the ass with the blackmailer out here but its fine.

her college years have frankly been quiet like .. she’s studious to the point she needs to be but she really is not a partier, doesn’t do drugs because she’s seen first hand the shit that her parents are involved in, and barely drinks. when she does she literally doesn’t know how to handle it and fears losing control. literally if you wanna manipulate her this is how u do it lmao.

this is mentioned in the personality section but yes she is in the classics book club at yale ... she loves her classics</3

she’s actually easy to get along with ok just don’t cross her i promise my god im going to lose it

i don’t know im blanking so bad and this is alrdy almost 1500 words i cant do this anymore. UGHGHH more of her personal stuff is in the personality section im heaving

personality

ridiculously cut throat and has no issues stepping on people to get to where she needs to be. like if it came down to saving herself or saving someone else who she doesn’t have a close connection to? she will always pick herself. 

makes a game out of other people one - upping her<3 if she knows she can win, and sometimes even when she can’t, she will purposely cause a problem just to see them fall and grow her own ego.

also will start problems casually and then just sit back and watch them unfold while drinking wine out a mug.

literally ... and i mean literally obsessed with being perceived as beautiful and pretty. she’s so mf vain that it’s actually a problem, and i can promise you if you call her ugly miss girl will cry. this mostly has to do with her self esteem issues and the pressure put onto her by her parents after avery left. yes she did this to herself dni.

loyal only to those who she cares about otherwise they can frankly rot<3 and there are times where she will break that loyalty if it benefits her.

ik this may not be believable but she actually is extremely insecure and anxious deep down lmao like she has such an obsession with proving that she’s the best to her peers and her family that it flat out consumes her consistently. this is what causes her to act out most of the time and if someone was to become close to her it would be plainly evident. yes - she can be soft.

has an overt persona of positivity and carries herself as someone who doesn’t have negative intentions and sometimes makes it hard to believe that she’s actually capable of doing the things that people accuse her of.

yes she is calculating and manipulative and miss girly will look for faults only to make them worse.

she literally wasn’t always like this but when her and avery’s relationship started to fracture, she kind of let her own selfishness consume her.

she plays stupid a lot KLNDFKNDLKFSD  will pretend to be interested in random men in her classes so they will baby her and do shit for her that she could have easily done herself. it’s not that she’s lazy but she’s only studying pharma because of her family. she has an obsession with classical lit and would have rather majored in that if given the chance. 

has a fear of emotional intimacy </3 went through a really toxic relationship from the ages of 16-18 that was basically more done to bring her family and another together for a business deal and it just ... did not end well for her and basically she was treated like shit. literally the only way she could get out of it was to frame him and then bribe people to make sure the felony charge wasn’t dropped. her family doesn’t know she did this so<33333 

statistics

full name: lilia iris jung.

nicknames: lili or lia.

age: 21.

date of birth: august 02, 1999.

siblings: avery ( older brother ).

birthplace: new york city, new york, united states.

current location: new haven, connecticut, united states.

astrological sign: leo sun / capricorn moon / virgo rising.

gender: cis female.

pronouns: she / her / hers.

height: 5′1″.

sexuality: bisexual.

religion: atheist.

piercings: double lobe on her right ear, triple lobe on her left ear, tragus on her right ear, and a helix on both her left and right and ears.

tattoos: this on her inner, right bicep, and this behind her left ear.

haircolor: brunette.

literally for wanted connections i want 2 things: (1) someone to rock her shit bc that is deserved, and (2) idk she’s wearing a mask like 80% of the time so someone who she is close enough to actual b real with :\ if this doesn’t make sense myob im taking a nap

[chaeryybomb]

JUNE COMEBACKS REVIEW

BLACKPINK: HOW YOU LIKE THAT

ngl I’m kinda sad bc a lot of y’all don’t like the song ;-; but I can’t do anything about it since it’s your opinion so

but I hope that people know the difference between hating and giving criticism saying the song sucks and that it’s trash music is straight up music

I can get why people are disappointed with the song since everyone wanted almost the same thing, “jennie getting a rap part”, “jisoo saying blackpink in your area” and a high note from rosé

personally I really like the song, to me it’s not the same as dddd and ktl tbh I think it’s different

plus I kinda expected it to be like that bc their songs usually follow that yg style ya know the only songs I say that don’t follow that stereotypical yg style is “love scenario”, “stay” and AKMU’s songs

i mean if you compare the song with other yg artists song, they all have the same vibe to it because of the “yg style” we always say

the song also gives me nct and skz vibes too, like specifically “punch” and “side effects” bc of the heavy edm and also bc their songs has been called noise before dhshd

but enough of that

I really like how the song starts calmly in the beginning and then it starts to be more aggressive

also I like the fact that each of the girls get a chance to say “how you like that”

lisa’s rap????? y e s

personally I feel like this time it had more of a fairer distribution, including lines and center parts

like jisoo actually gets some center parts in the dance break and chorus

i also really like the outfits this era, especially the modernized hanboks! though I have mix feelings about the pink wig dhshdh

speaking of hair, jennie!! she fucking dyed her hair!!!

and rosé is no longer blonde dhsjdj

the parts I found weird is when rosé says “look up in the sky it’s a bird it’s a plane” i have no idea how that fits in the song so

and the “dumdudurum” part at the end, it sounds out of place, like especially after it the song ends

i also think that this is their best choreography! right next to don’t know what to do

overall, I really like the song, if you don’t it’s fine! hylt has the most aesthetic mv’s I’ve seen and the outfits are so much better and it has been said that BLACKPINK’s old stylist left the company in January no not maeng

lisa’s fur coat outfit reminds me of yeji’s outfit in wannabe

would I say that hylt is their best song? no, I think playing with fire was their best song but it’s not a terrible song either

another I like is jisoo owning this era, say what you want, hylt is Jisoo’s era period.

STRAY KIDS: GOD’S MENU

what even is a concept anymore

we all thought it was going to be some street racer concept

buT NO

it’s a kung fu panda concept dhshdh

felix!!! my baby has lines !!!!

his demonic voice is bACK

hyunjin’s blond hair 😭😭

what the fUCK

the way he tied it up in a ponytail, like sir that is diSRESPECTFUL he really is jaebum’s son huh

okay okay on to the song

it honestly shocked me so much, like the rap parts were so aggressive like and the vocals are kinda angelic???

i really really like the pre-chorus, seungmin’s voice is just so !!!!! i also like seungmin+i.n’s little duet after felix’s part

spEAKING OF FELIX’S PART

“looking like a chef I’m a five star Michelin” bro that part is lowkey demonic looking in the dance

like mans pulled his knees up and put his hands through them while looking directly at you

does that not look demonic to you??? my friend said it reminded her of a spider dhshdhr

also the “dududu” part instantly reminded me of bp’s dddd dhshd like can someone edit a part of bp going “oh wait till I do when I hit you with that” and cuts to skz “DUDUDU”

the fact that no one has done it yet astounishes me

also what the fuck is that chain thing on Chan’s face, who put it there and why dhshd

bless whoever gave changbin dual contacts lens

AND WHO GAVE JEONGIN SLEEVELESS SHIRTS WHO ALLOWED THAT DHSHD

at first I found the choreography a bit funny bc they added like cooking gestures to it dhshd, like stirring the pot in the chorus but my favorite part of the dance is changbin’s part

the entire album was a bop okay, the fact that “god’s menu” wasn’t even the title track and they decided to change it, the fact that jyp has so much TRUST in bang chan also we get to see chan and sana being best friends uwu

“pacemaker” is literally “my pace” 2020 ver dhshd it even has the “nananana” part!

my favorites from the album is “TA”, “blueprint” and “haven”!!

also “easy”,,,, chan what did u do that it can’t be performed in shows

TWICE: MORE & MORE

wow girl groups are really being criticized this month huh

if y’all don’t know what happened with twice, a lot of people are criticizing twice for not singing live during their encore stages

a lot of them are especially going after momo

I’ve watched their encore stages and I don’t know why people are saying they sound bad???? maybe they need a better vocal coach but the fact that people are taking advantages of the situation just to hate on them smh

a n y w a y s

the song definitely gives a whole lot of “dtna” vibes bc of the tropical concept, its like “dtna” but the mature version

if “dance the night away” had an older sister, it would be “more & more”

also I really like the eve & adam concept, “more & more” is also another “creepy”ish song that is hidden behind a catchy tune, like “yes or yes” where ppl think it’s a cute song but the lyrics says otherwise

okay actually writing this out, it’s mv has “dtna” vibe but the song is so much like “yes or yes”

if you read the lyrics, the girls are basically saying that “no matter how hard you try to hide, you’re going to be mine again”

even in dahyun’s rap she says “I’m naturally selfish, I’m sorry if you didn’t know” and “you will fall for me, you can’t say no no”

it’s almost the same as her part in “yes or yes” where she says “there is no letters n and o” dhshdh sorry this becam a whole theory

back the real song review, I’m so glad that momo got a dance break! I think that this is their fairest line distribution yet. jeongyeon got her lines, dubchaeng got their rap parts and momo has a lot of center parts!!

and the girls look so much happier during their promotions especially tzuyu! she was smiling so much, maybe it’s because mina is with them and I’m so happy they get to perform as nine again

i really like their choreography and the part where they do the chest bounce is really satisfying idk why dhsdh

plus jeongyeon got better outfits this era cough feel special era cough

overall, I really like this comeback and it’s nice that nayeon got the high notes this time instead of jihyo

IZ*ONE: SECRET STORY OF THE SWAN

oh boy this is definitely my favorite song of this month

it’s so much different than their other songs!!!

and there’s so much to go on about!

wonyoung, minju, sakura and hyewon literally improved so much. im so proud of them !!!

hyewon, nako and sakua getting to sing the chorus??? y e s

chaeyena rap parts????? y e s

chaeyeon getting a dance break AND a high note???? Y E S

my favorite parts is eunbi+chaewon pre chorus wow I have a thing for pre choruses don’t I dhsh

i will say that this song vies the girls the chance to show how much they’ve improved throughout the eras, especially the j-line and visual line since a lot of people said they didn’t belong in izone

wonyoung and yujin's expressions are really on point as well

and yena's hip move dhshdhs

it's also rlly cute how eunbi throws confetti at her part dhshd

it’s refreshing to see how the girls improved

unfortunately, izone will be disbanding this year ;-; this is why I never liked the produce series

but we do have some ideas what will happen to the members though, we all know yena will be added into everglow, i having a feeling that eunbi and chaeyeon will be debuting as a soloist, they have so much potential plus the radiate chungha energy

nako, hitomi and sakura would most likely return to Japan, although I see sakura staying in korea to pursue an acting career and hitomi as a producer since she wrote some of izone’s songs

yuri might debut as a solo or debut in a new girl group as main vocalists, the same goes for chaewon

i see minju and hyewon going into acting careers and CF contracts, the same as kang mina, especially since minju is now an mc for music core

whereas for wonyoung and yujin, their both still young so I think they’ll finish school before re-debuting in groups plus yujin will be attending sopa

especially wonyoung, we all know that she’s actually really smart and is good at academics, i also think she might do modeling work, she fits the criteria

i also kinda see yujin pursuing an acting career because she will be in the theatre and film department in sopa. unless starship is going to debut a new girl group, I hope that yujin can debut as a soloist instead

WEKI MEKI: OOPSY

*inhales*

LUCY AND LUA FINALLY GETTING THE LINES THEY D E S E R V E D

I’m so happy dhshdhhs

also lua fits the short hairstyle so much, I’ve literally fallen for her help I can’t get up

as much as I love yoojung, it’s nice to see lucy rapping

the song is very catchy, I especially like rina’s part in the second verse of the song

i also love the “wolf & hunter” concept for the album

like the pictures were very beautiful, I also like how they use white for the wolves and black for the hunters, it’s like painting the hunters at the bad guys and the wolves as the good guys

I am in love with Lucy, Lua and Sei’s “nonono” part in the chorus

and the choreography for the chorus too

as much as I love elly’s blue hair, she slays in black hair dhshd I

I really love their outftis this era, i like how it’s all pants for the girls too

my favorite outfits are the black outfits from the gif

overall, this is definitely their fairest line distribution cough tika taka and dazzle dazzle cough

NATURE: GIRLS

this is my second favorite song of the month

I love the whole horror concept and I also like the fact that they released the uncensored version of the mv

it’s give the song much more of the horror vibe

I’m new to Nature and as far as I know, a member is stuck in China and another member sat out due to an injury. please correct me if I’m wrong

the outfits might be simple, but it fits so right with the song, I prefer the white dresses over the black ones

it kinda gives out the feeling that the girls are like asylum patients ya know, whereas the black dresses gives out that the girls are rich daughters that were sent away

I really like LU and Haru’s parts

the dance is also kinda a simple but it looks great!

overall, I hope that Nature will do this concept again, actually I hope to see more groups do this kind of concepts more

WAYV: TURN BACK TIME

did this comeback scare me? yes yes it did

bro the teasers were so scARY

yangyang was literally laughing like a mANIAC

MANS WAS IN AN ASYLUM OKAY

their teasers gave me so much suicide squad vibes

also, why the fuck were 4/7 members not wearing shiRTS

sm do you have a shirt shortage??? I’m sure nctzens are more than happy to donate some shirts to you

okay anyways, I’ve always liked wayv’s sci-fi concept, I don’t know if the mv’s are connected or not but I think they are

“take off” is them basically flying away from earth and they landed in space in “moonwalk” and it seems they have been captured in “turn back time”

very inch resting dhshd

listen, I may be chinese but I can’t understand 70% of the song because of how fast it goES

so with that saying, yANGYANG DID NOT COME TO PLAY

his rap was amazing !!!! he is definitely one of sm’s best rappers along with taeyong and mark

my favorite part is lucas and hendery’s rap parts and then it switches to xiaojun and yangyang + kun, ten and xiaojun getting highnotes

the dance break is so satisfying to watch too

“stop, rewind, turn back time” and “5432” part is so satisfying

also I’m really impressed with how fast LabelV responded when fans pointed out that some of the outfits had offensive phrases in them, they took the time to edit it out of the teasers and the mv, cheers to them

also! i find it funny that wayv released the Korean version of “turn back time” but all of us were much more shocked at the fact that Ten got another cat dhshd

SEVENTEEN: LEFT & RIGHT

first of all, dokyeom looks so gOOD IN THE MV

second of all, vernon and wonwoo’s “hana dul set” will forever be iconic

third, seungcheol is back 😭😭

just like twice, they get to perform as 13 again dhsjdsn

AND THEY LOOK SO HAPPY DURING THIS ERA TOO

LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN WONWOO?? HE’S SUCH A SMILEY BABY with his orange mic dhshd

also if y’all don’t have tiktok, svt has been doing the “left & right” with so many other idols including chungha and apink’s naeun!

haha joshua hong and wen junhui being real disrespectful with those sleeveless shirts

bonus point we got svt x nct china line + mark and joshua interaction at music bank

their choreography looks so fun too dhshd

the entire comeback is so cute and colorful

my favorite parts are vernon and seungcheol’s rap parts

also vernon be rocking that greaser style

their new album is so versatile, like, “fearless”, “left & right”, “kidult” and “my my”?? who’s doing it like seventeen

i love their new songs so much especially “kidult”

overall, I really really love this comeback

WJSN: BUTTERFLY

I couldn’t find a group scene gif pls forgive me

let me say, I am absolutely in love with the concept, the outfit concept for this is so creative, I don’t know if any other groups have done it before but !!

their outfits evovle like a butterfly!!

at first, the outfits were plain pastel colours but they slowly become more detailed and colourful throughout the stages, like a caterpillar to a butterfly!

center yeoreum!!!

and dayoung looks so pretty in short hair 🥺

and again, as far as I know, the Chinese members are in China, two of them are apart of the Chinese group Rocket Girl and I think Chengxiao recently returned to Korea

I really like their ending pose where their hands are in the butterfly gesture and the “wings” are slowly flapping

and how their arms represent their wings during the chorus

by far one of the moor creative comebacks in my opinion

also, it’s nice to hear soobin doing the high note instead of yeonjung, let yeonjung rest her voice once in a while ya know

SUNMI: PPORAPPIPAM

THE QUEEN IS BACKKK

also wonder girls reunion uwu

the teaser gave me so much "barbie: island princess" vibes so the entire mv was not what I expected

at all

the mv literally describes sunmi a lot, she basically does whatever the fuck she wants like when she posted that pic of jyp on instagram dhshdhs

it’s so funny especially the scene where sunmi is wearing the teletubbies head

and at the end when she wakes up and goes back to sleep is just a mood lmao

something about the song really gives me a lot of “siren” vibes but happier???

i really like the way she pronounces “pporappipam” it took me one week to finally pronounced it dhshd

idk why but I really like the instrumental, especially the intro, it’s very melancholic

also she wears converse while performing the song bc she has to step on the dancers at one part !!

speaking of that part, it’s so cool!!! the way she climbs up the dancers like stairs and then she just trust-falls into their arms

[puttingfingerstokeys]

I’m on fire again

I’m here dealing out emotional nut punches as best I can. Idk if this one’ll reach your testes, but hopefully, if all goes as planned. Ahh let’s see first person, present tense--kind of a storytelling/narration type o’ situation.

Caged Heat (MORE LIKE AGED HEAT AMIRITE? yeah so it’s 50some Johnny and past, 25ish? Liu... so if age gap squicks you, do not read the thing!) - Liu/Johnny. Potential prequel to Out With A Bang.

Broken Timeline

PS this here’s the song that was in me head

In my life (all fifty some odd years of it), I’ve learned to expect serious horseshit. Sometimes it’s the kind you can avoid—big, stinking piles, easy to stop and ultimately not a whole lot more than an inconvenience. Most often, though—and this honestly happens easily eighty seven percent (this also happens to be the Rotten Tomatoes score for Ninja Mime 2) of the time—it’s the kind of shit that’s hitting some metaphorical fan and spreading itself out over everyone and everything I love, specifically. How can shit, distributed like bird shot, be specific? Trust me, it can.

The last few months—If I’m being honest, it’s been literal years, but I’m a guy who focuses on the now—have been a particular brand of horseshit that drives a man to drink. I’ve learned my lesson with that, though. No Bueno, as Cass would say. Yeah no fuckin’ Bueno. 

One thing leads to another and another… A guy we all trusted with our lives led us into a death trap—led MY girls into a death trap and one of ‘em didn’t make it out. Sonya, babe, if you’re out there, you always deserved better’n me, but I’m glad you picked me anyway. 

I guess I can’t really hold that against Raiden. To say he wasn’t in the right frame of mind would be putting it mildly. Post-timequake, I ended up asking his past self (do gods have those?) what the fuck was going on in his brain.

“As I have yet to make those mistakes, Johnny Cage, I could not say for certain, although the influence of Shinnok’s essence, trapped within that amulet, may have played a factor.” That’s the best he could do and I’m going to go ahead and not ask again. 

Gods and demons and magical amulets—it’s my life, right? But it feels like one of my (bad) movies. Not the good ones—Lady Liberty was good—IS good—but like, one of those should’ve-been-straight-to-video jobs. This is like that except it’s happening and my friends are dying. They’re dying and I’m surviving. Do you know what it’s like to watch people you love drop like flies?

I’ve always been the “I’m here for a good time, not a long time” type of guy. Turns out I’m the one who’s stuck here for the long haul, though. I mean, over and over, it’s just turned out that way. Maybe there’s some cosmic force (not Thunder Cat, in case you were wondering) looking out for me, but I really wish it would stop.

Anyway that… kinda brings me to the next bit. Watching Raiden fry Liu Kang has got to be the highlight of shit I never want to think about again, but something I can’t get out of my head no matter how hard I try—and I DO try. I DID try—I tried a long time and it really fucked up Cassie’s childhood, my career, my relationship with Sonya. SF is out there waging a secret war and I’m wallowing in self-pity and booze with a daughter who doesn’t goddamn well know any better. 

I guess I had just wanted out, but I never meant to try taking her with me. She knows that by now, but that doesn’t fix what I did. So I do the right thing, get straight (relatively speaking), get clean, and join the military. My previous experience with Outworld ends up with me in SF, under my ex-wife (pretty much against protocol anywhere else, except that we don’t have many options), and surrounded by people I’d hoped never to see again.

Because I’m a selfish prick and being near them reminds me of that… all that shit—with Shinnok, the island, Goro, Liu… All that.

So I am, as usual, digressing. I’ll cut it short. The scenario is easy to set: It’s the day before everyone plans on invading Netherrealm (ew), sailing across the sea of blood (gross??), and taking a shot at the head Kueball herself, Kronika (I’m proud of myself for that one; please laugh). 

Everybody but ME.

I’m pretending like it’s nothing, but it actually smarts like a bitch—and not just my fucking leg. Yes, I resent the fact that I probably won’t be shadowkicking ever again, but what stings worst of all is that I know most of these people—everyone from Sub-Zero (whoda thunk) and Scorpion (GET OVER HERE) to Raiden (bzzt) and my girl Cass (aka mini me)—are not coming back from this. They’re not coming back and I am, once again, the sole survivor.

EVEN MY DOUCHEBAG YOUNGER SELF IS GOING. Tell me where the justice is in that? 

But I’m playing it cool. I have to do it, for all of them. It’s not for MY benefit; I’m fuming. I speak with Electric Slide a while—he has this really calming way about him that’s kind of weird if you consider how NOT calming lightning bolts are—and then he heads off to… probably do god things. He makes me feel marginally less shitty, but the feeling is still there, like a bad tooth, aching and waiting for me to fuck up and bite into something.

I’m glad I can at least BE here, at the Fire Garden, WITH everyone, but knowing it’s going to make their departure suck a fat one. I’m sulking again, getting my head in a dark place and keeping it firmly lodged there (the dark place is, as you might guess, up my own ass). But hey, who should pop his perfectly-groomed head into my rad sliding door (is rad a thing kids still say? Also it’s evidently called a “shoji” or something) but Liu “Kicky Longstockings” Kang himself. The young, hot one, not the gray, bad-tempered dude.

“Ol’ Sparky went that way,” I tell him, pointing out the door and in a vague direction. He shakes his head. He’s not looking for Raiden, apparently—it’s cute how he always calls the guy Lord Raiden… I mean I guess that’s his name, but I feel like if you’re involved in operations with a dude for so long, a little casualness is kind of expected. Anyway he’s never minded. Nobody’s MY “lord” anyway. I’m not that kinda guy. 

But anyway, so Liu walks in (sounds like the beginning of a joke… “So a monk walks into a whatever”), closes the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of my bed looking conflicted (read: closeted) as all fuck, staring at his hands, at the door, the ceiling. I tell him my eyes are up here, which makes him laugh.

God that laugh—that fucking smile. My heart is skipping SO many beats. I am too old for this shit. We both know it, at some level, whatever this shit even is. When he holds my hand, it’s in a friendly way. When we speak, it’s comfortable, like we never stopped. For HIM, that’s true, but he hasn’t connected with me yet, not the way I remember. I mean, maybe we’ve—y’know, but there’s a weird kind of desperate gratefulness in his voice when he talks about everything that’s happening, owning his fear, chewing through it like the Chosen One he absolutely is, and then finally turning his words and attention on me—on US. I tell him there’s no us, or that… there wasn’t—there were a few moments, but I’d only met him. I had wanted to know him better then and now he’s sitting in front of me and we have less than ten hours to get to know each other. I said my life was the shit-hitting-fan kind. 

“I like you better than your past self,” he says, in no way sheepish. I have to laugh at that one and agree that I, too, prefer my current self to whatever hot mess I was brewing almost thirty years ago. I fill him in on what that ended up doing for me and he listens without judgment. Even through the lowest lows, I detect not a hint of condescension. 

An hour passes. We are just talking. It’s easy. He’s an easy guy to be around. Maybe it’s the monk thing ‘cause 1.21 Gigawatts has that too, like I said—but he’s kinda more nun than monk. Anyway what Liu does next is debatably non-monkish so maybe the comparison is pointless. His hand finds the side of my face and I self-consciously wonder if I should have shaved. Before or after the showdown with Kano, Cage? Okay, dumb thought.

“What do you want?” I gotta ask him because he’s not going to say it on his own. I know what I want, but that’s easy enough to discern by the way I’m watching him. He doesn’t hem and haw, though I can see the hesitation in his eyes. He simply watches a few moments longer before leaning in to kiss me—and what a kiss it is. It’s like fireworks. You know, you read in books that it’s an explosion of color and whatever the hell else—I dunno, the only thing I read is a script—well they’re right. 

My heart is doing the thing again where it threatens to burst out of my ribcage and go running off. Liu pulls away first, looking kind of horrified, but the color on his cheeks and the way he is touching his lips tells me I still got it.

“Sonya,” he whispers, the name falling helplessly from pretty lips I can’t stop ogling. It’s undignified, I know, but there it is.

“I’ll always love her,” I tell him, “but that never stopped me loving you, Liu.”

He considers this, still seeming conflicted, but I gotta admit, I’m really enjoying the way his cheeks go red. I could look all night, but I really shouldn’t waste the time. We have eight hours, give or take. I remind him of this, remind him that no vow in the world is going to protect him from the inevitability of a titan. 

I don’t feel like I’m pushing him, but encouraging the guy in a direction he already wants to take. E.g. Me. And I’m really only doing it ‘cause I know he either already has or intended. Maybe it’s wrong, but like I said, I’m selfish.

The next kiss is a lot more purposeful, with zero hesitation. When he yanks the sheet back, I shift to protect my leg and give him an easier time crawling on top of me. That’s what I want, to feel anything but alone. This heat between us is what I want—maybe what I need—and he obliges. He really is a polite guy.

Liu is careful as we move, mindful of my leg, and teasingly deferential to my seniority. When I jokingly call him “son”, he blanches and looks like he might swat me until he gets my shirt up over my chest and sees that ridiculous tattoo that he hates so much. It’s a weird kind of hate because the last time he saw it, the Edwardian (I think that’s what it is? I was drunk) script had the same effect. I’d never known someone could be angry and horny at the same time, ‘til I met Liu Kang—and Sonya, come to think of it. I guess I DO have a type.

Also I want it known that Liu Kang is a biter and he likes ‘em top heavy. Just, in case anyone cared. 

It feels like he wants to grope and/or take the tattoo right off my chest. When his lips aren’t busy with mine, they’re on me someplace and he’s got a hand over my mouth. It’s a good call, but GOD I want to be loud. I know he can be—all that turkey screaming is good for something, after all. But right now, we’ve gotta keep it down; the walls and doors are pretty thin and who knows who might wander by outside. The idea of Zap Dad catching us in flagrante delicto,  (yeah, I know what that means; get off my back) is both hilarious and mortifying.

Real talk, though, all joking aside, the sex is probably some of the best I’ve gotten in literal years. When I say the dude can throw a fuck, I mean it. He’s mindful of the leg, but this kid (weird-sounding I know, but when you get to be my age, everyone’s a kid) is going to town on me—I’m pretty sure he’s going to blow my back out… kinda hoping he does. 

Somewhere in the hot, sharp, sweet chaos of it all, I tell Liu that if I’m not limping tomorrow, he did something wrong. Well, he’s kind of a perfectionist (guess that’s why he’s the chosen one), so he sets about making damn sure I don’t ever, at any point in time, think that he did not do his job. I’m pretty sure we’re going to bring the whole complex down when the ol’ fireworks hit again. These ones are blinding, pretty much set about knocking us both out completely. If he doesn’t sleep well after this, I don’t know what else to do.

Coming down from it is comfortable. There’s that really nice feeling of tingling numbness in my legs and the creeping soreness of a well-used… Anyway, it’s not such a bad deal to fall asleep next to him, wrapped in his arms. He’s at ease too, finally. I should get paid for this. You already do, man; you’re an actor, my mind insists. Okay, that’s fair. 

I consider this as the sun sinks and the room goes dark. Silvery moonlight shines in the windows on the other side and creeps across the floor which looks honestly like it gets waxed every day. Knowing that hardass, Scorpion, it DOES. A lot of care has gone into this place, rebuilding it, students and all. To lose the Grandmaster that way, hoping to replace him with his younger self… it just makes the Hail Mary a whole lot uglier. 

I shift to lie on my back, considering the ceiling which is suddenly fascinating. If I’m lucky, he’ll keep sleeping and NOT detect the tears that are falling from my eyes faster than I can rub them away. He’s a light sleeper, though—guess I could’ve figured that one out—and before I know it, he, too is shifting to press himself closer, asking me what’s on my mind. Not what’s wrong. He doesn’t ask that because he knows; we kind of both know what the fuck is so horrendously wrong with this entire situation. He just offers the age-old penny for my thoughts.

“You come back for me, okay?” I hear myself whispering these words—they’re shitty and selfish and wrong; we both know he’s not coming back—before I can stop myself. The old Johnny Cage “charm” has evidently decided to rear its ugly mug. It’s like a hydra, I swear. Take out one head and seven more show up, that kind of deal? Not cool. But I DO mean it and, as long as I’m not lying, as long as we’re here, together and alone, pressed up against each other, I should probably say it.

“I promise.”

The words, three short syllables—they cut me, deep. This is like a confession of love, but ten thousand times more painful, because I know it’s not a promise he can keep. All at once, though, he’s kissing me again, rolling on top of me, pushing the doubt away with his lips. There’s a sureness in them that scares me, a determination hinged on hope that just isn’t realistic. 

It isn’t that I doubt Raiden’s plans (could anyone blame me if I did?), or the snaky fucking sorcerer that showed up with Fujin and Nightwolf (a couple of guys I NEVER thought I’d see again) just a day or two ago. I just doubt our luck. We have always had shit luck, all of us. It definitely seems like I’m the lucky one, though, doesn’t it?

How lucky is it to watch people die, to hold them tight and close, knowing you’ll never do it again? That’s not luck. That’s crap. That’s my life. I’m not looking for pity though—actually right now I’m not looking for anything. I’ve got everything right where I want it. Liu is hot against my flesh, pushing himself in deeper than before, and harder—there’s urgency like I remember it, a fathomless need, I think, to remember and be remembered. He’s an idiot if he thinks I could ever forget him. No matter what happens, I can’t do that.

I feel teeth and fingers digging in, sticky, hot flesh, and the most exquisite (yeah, I know what that means; get off my back) pain and pleasure combo I’ve ever experienced hands down, bar none. I want more, but then with him, I always do—or did. Or will? I don’t know. I want to think there’s a future for us, but if Kronika gets her way, no one gets a future; we just get to restart, to relive whatever pain she thinks is appropriate. Right now, right here, she can’t touch us. We’re consumed with each other and it feels so… so good.

Just when I think he’s done, that neither of us can go any longer—I realize how stupid that sounds to anyone who’s met a guy of 25—his hands are on me again, gripping my hip hard and pulling me back against him, his other arm—the guy has great arms, just FYI—around my chest. He guides himself in again and I lean into it. My leg is screaming, of course, but drowning that is easy. I’d love to lose myself in this for eternity, which sounds like a damn long time, but it’s better than the six(ish) hours we have left. Nevertheless, that’s what we’ve got and I’m taking every bit of it.

When we finish—yes, WE, like I said, Liu is a polite guy—I warn him that we have GOT to sleep. He taunts me. Of course he does. “What?” He says. “You done already?” Well of course I can’t take that lying down—figuratively, of course, I’m definitely still on my back. Knees are a no-go with the bandages and the underlying injury. 

He folds me this time, once more gentle with the bad leg, asking if I’m okay. I’m damn well not going to tell him it hurts like a motherfucker, not when he’s got my legs over his meaty, broad, beefy, HUGE linebacker shoulders—did I mention he has a great rack? And we’re off again.

It feels like we go at it all night, but we have a few hours left to snooze before the sun comes up and the ships set sail. God, ships—that’s so weird. I’ve never seen Netherrealm, or the sea of blood, but it sounds ominous and diseased… and sticky. My cowardly side is glad I’m not going, but part of me wonders if I’ll suddenly, like, acquire the memories of my younger self going. Is that going to be a headache situation, or a knock-me-on-my-sore-ass-for-a-week situation?

This time, Liu is curled into MY chest, hands tucked under his chin like a little kid. It’s kind of cute and I tug the sheets up over our sweaty bodies, knowing damn well how hard it’s going to be to disentangle when morning comes. But I can’t bear to move him. It’s like when a cat sits on you and suddenly you’re the Chosen One.

Except Liu Kang is the Chosen One and he’s going to go off, get himself killed, maybe save Earthrealm and then what? Ol’ Johnny gets to survive another year. I don’t know if I want to survive without him or any of our other friends. I don’t know if I can. I’m shit on my own. It’s taken years to come to terms with that, but it’s true. I’m not good alone. I hold him tightly until sleep takes me. 

It is high fucking noon before I open my eyes. I am unsurprised to find the spot next to me cold—but it is not empty. On the pillow where only hours before, Liu’s head had been resting, there’s a worn looking piece of red cloth. I sit up, groan at the agony my body is presenting—if it is bad today, imagine what tomorrow will feel like—and grasp the cloth. It is, if I’m not wrong, his old headband, the one he’d been wearing when we first met. Of course he has about a gazillion of them (he’s got ‘em like I’ve got shades, except he’s wearing some homespun shit and I’ve got Oakleys), but this one is kinda special… More than kinda.

I am not ashamed to admit that I’m crying, sobbing like a baby, like I haven’t had the chance to do since all this started. Holding his headband close to my face, I think about all we’ve lost, all we have sacrificed. I think of Sonya, the indomitable mother of my child. I think of Kung Lao, Liu’s best friend and unfortunate victim of fate. I think of Jade, of Vera, of all the lives that have been stolen and what we still have left to lose.

“You promised,” I hiss angrily, as if he is already gone, has already broken his oath to me. “You promised you’d come back—why’d ya do that if you knew… you couldn’t… can’t…”

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 15

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,800 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Also on ff.net and AO3. ...I lied.  This is totally a harem story. *flees*

She held onto my coat that night, like a kid lost in her sleeves Oh we warmed the ground, we hushed our sound We slept on walking feet Oh Darlin’, pardon me Can you help me remember When we were all flying free

-Gregory Alan Isakov, “Living Proof”

————————–

After.

Barbara breathed out as she stood before the large, warehouse-like building, gazing anxiously up at its second floor (and watchful security cameras she knew were installed overhead). The reinforced structure still seemed relatively sound despite the recent disaster. The… original occupant certainly knew how to choose a hideout location and prepare for all potential outcomes. …Must've been a habit he picked up from his previous landlord.

With a wary hand, she buzzed the doorbell.

Sooner than she expected, the entry flew open to reveal an unfamiliar face: a young man with a short crop of mane spiked in the front like flames, similar in color to her own.

"Well hellooo there," he greeted with a wide grin, eyeing his guest up and down. "What can I do you for, miss?"

Barbara stared at him in surprise.

"Er, is Tim home? He… does still live here, right?"

The stranger licked his lips, resting toned muscle casually against the doorframe.

"Who cares about him? What say you and me get to know each other a bit first, as fellow redheads, hm?"

He loomed towards her, admiring her luscious saffron locks. Barbara grimaced, getting ready to give the kid a good taste of a police twist hold (if not taser) – when a voice she recognized interjected from behind.

"She's a cop, Roy. And she used to be Batgirl. I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

Tim emerged beside the other teen, regarding the two dully. Unfortunately the statement only seemed to fuel his friend's lust further.

"Hot damn. You here to arrest me, officer?" He waggled his brows. "Slap some cuffs on me and take me down to the station? I wouldn't mind that on the first date."

"Roy."

"Kidding, kidding. Jeeze, you really have no sense of humor now, do you?" He lowered his limb dejectedly. "Anyway, you didn't tell me you were acquainted with such a gorgeous babe. Ain't you gonna introduce us?"

Tim sighed.

"Roy, meet Officer Barbara Gordon, the Commissioner's daughter and former Batgirl. Babs, this is Roy Harper, a.k.a. Speedy, Green Arrow's ex-sidekick."

"Ex-partner," the other boy corrected. "And it's 'Arsenal' now."

"Whatever. Now could you please give us some privacy?"

"A'ight, I can take a hint to take a hike," Roy smirked with a suggestive wink. "I've got a 'date' myself anyway. I'll leave you two alone. Don't wait up~"

He whistled and growled as he passed by Barbara on the way out, who shot him a dirty look before resuming attention to Tim.

"I see you've been keeping company. Honestly, he's worse than the Flash." (What was it with all the male copperheads she met giving her ginger brand a bad name?)

"We know each other from the Titans," he replied in a dry tone. "He needed a place to stay after Queen kicked him out – again. Dick said it was okay."

Barbara paused.

"You talk to him recently?"

Tim shrugged as he moved aside to allow her in.

"We keep in touch. He calls every so often to check up on… things."

She studied his backside as they started heading upstairs to the loft.

"And? How are 'things'?

"Fine."

She glanced around the interior of the room as they approached the top; it looked pretty much the same as she remembered. There was the ornate wall of Asian-styled checkered windows overlooking the city, and the ninja sword rack hanging next to a decorative dragon panel (behind which she knew there was a concealed compartment that used to contain Nightwing's costume). Dick did always have a flair for the Orient.

Running her hand wistfully along the armrest to the sofa, she recalled how she and Dick used to sit and cuddle together on it, enjoying late-night Chinese takeout and talks, among… other things.

A frown settled on her face as she noticed something… "off" about the couch cushions.

"'Fine', you say. …Is that why you have 'this'?"

Tim's eyes immediately narrowed as she stretched behind the seat and unzipped the foam, removing a bag of greenish-purple powder from deep within.

"It's not mine."

He answered, a little too hasty.

"Whose is it then?"

"Roy's," he stated flatly, seeming nonchalant about selling out his flatmate.

"And you're telling me you've never used any?"

He hesitated, eyes slanting aside in silence. She scrutinized the stash, recognizing to her horror that it was likely the popular new drug that was being distributed in the streets amongst decadent youth; an isolated chemical strain similar to Joker toxin, but more mild. Not strong enough to cause permanent psychological damage (at least when taken in minor doses), but enough to mimic the euphoric high for hours on end.

"Have you been doing deals with Jokerz?"

"Like hell I would," he snapped.

She reached out to sternly grab his wrist, trying insistently to meet his eye.

"Tim. Be honest with me. Please."

He yanked his arm away, glaring fiercely in anger.

"What is this, some kind of bust? Fine, go ahead, book me. I don't care. Why don't you just charge me with murder while you're at it?"

"Tim…"

"You don't get it, Barb." He clutched at his sleeves, digging digits deep into his skin. "You don't know what it's like, living with fucking laughter inside your head all the time. At least when I'm laughing louder I can't hear him."

She swallowed, biting her lip. Gently, she set the plastic down on the table.

"I do understand," she whispered softly.

He blinked at her.

"Tim, the reason I came here, is because… Lately, I've been having these… visions." She sank down on the lounger, steepling fingers in front of her. "You remember the time Scarecrow gassed me and left me in a hallucinogenic nightmare state?"

He nodded.

"It's like that, only now, I get them when I'm awake as well, at complete random. Ever since the quake, I'll experience these abrupt panic attacks, and see all kinds of terrifying shit. Then, the flashbacks start, and there's one that's always recurring…" She closed her eyes, reflecting reluctantly. "All of a sudden I'll see myself back at Arkham, fighting against Harley. We go over the edge of the cliff, and I'm hanging on like before, and she starts to slip… Only this time, I fall with her. I – I die, just like that time in my dream."

She hunched in on herself further as she continued.

"It doesn't end there though. It keeps going, and I can still see everything else play out, like when I visualized my dad going after Bruce afterwards. I – I see him and Joker, and you – JJ – there with the gun – and – and… The shot hits Batman instead."

Her speech tapered off as she finished the sentence. Her audience was deathly quiet as she carried on in a tremulous hush.

"Then you and the Joker – he – he makes you do all these horrible things – so many deaths – including Dick's – and finally my dad's the only one left – and he has to take you both down by himself – and it ends with either him shooting you – or you shooting him – and either way everyone I love is… gone."

She looked at him, tears starring her eyes.

"I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear any of this. I – I just had to come see you…"

"To make sure I haven't gone on an insane murder spree?"

Barbara lowered her head in apology.

"I didn't mean it like that…"

Tim exhaled, unlinking his limbs as he leaned back against the table.

"For what it's worth, I don't think I've done anything recently that would land me a spot in Arkham. …Anyway, shouldn't you go see a doctor about this or something? Or someone else who can help, like…"

The weight of unspoken word hung heavy in the air. She shook her head.

"I'm scared. What if they can't treat it, say my condition's permanent? I'm no good to the force like this, I can't function out in the field. I'll have to give up my badge, after I worked so hard to finally get here..."

Tim rolled his eyes slightly.

"Gee, I wonder what that could possibly be like?"

Contriteness crossed her countenance again.

"…Sorry. That was dumb, I shouldn't have said that. I was being selfish, only thinking of myself. I shouldn't have bothered you with this. You've got enough to deal with, you don't deserve to have my issues dumped on you as well."

Tim held up his hand.

"Look, it's okay, Babs. …Is there anything I can do?"

She lifted timidly, chewing her lip.

"I – I was just hoping maybe we could… I don't know – talk for a bit?"

Tim remained mute, mulling for a moment, before turning and walking over to the mini-fridge. Opening it, he retrieved two chilled beer cans before revolving back.

"You want a drink?"

She boosted an eyebrow, but nevertheless gratefully accepted the offering of booze.

"I'm not even going to ask how you got these."

She muttered as she popped the tab and started to chug it down.

…

A nearly emptied six-pack later, they were both more than a bit tipsy, but Barbara especially so. Turns out she wasn't very good at holding her alcohol.

"I mean, who do those jerks think they are?" she slurred as she slammed her container down. "I'm not some little girl or someone's possession. I can date whoever I damn well please."

Tim perceived her lurch lopsidedly as she groped for another, growing concerned.

"Don't you think you've had one too many?"

"I'll be the judge of that," she hicced as she swatted his hand away. Tim persisted however, prying the prize firmly from her fingertips.

"That's it. I think you've had enough."

As he stood up to put the beverage back, he simultaneously fished out his phone and began dialing with his free hand.

"I'm calling your dad to come pick you up."

He felt a pressure on his lower waist, and he looked down to see Barbara clinging to the back of his shirt, burying her flushed forehead against his spine.

"Please," she mumbled into the fabric. "Just let me stay here a little longer."

He gulped, but submissively sat back down. She warmly nestled her head against his shoulder, causing his chest to beat rapidly in confusion.

"…What the hell happened to us, Tim? How did we end up like this? The four of us, hardly even speaking to each other? Dick would never return my phone calls, and Bruce – God, Bruce – I don't even know where to begin with him."

"To be fair, he was never much of a conversationalist to begin with," Tim griped bitterly. "Besides, don't you, uh, have a new boyfriend now?"

He cleared his throat, and Barbara sighed as she sat up, hugging her knees close to her for comfort instead.

"Sam's great. He understands, but… He doesn't really 'get' it, you know? What we've been through."

She traced a rim of condensation on the counter.

"Hey, you remember that time Bruce almost married a plant-woman? That was wild."

"Yeah? What about when Farmer Brown unleashed a bunch of giant mutant insects on Gotham? That's got to be the craziest adventure we ever had."

"Please. You weren't there when Baby Doll and Killer Croc teamed up and nearly nuked the city. I mean, can you imagine those two together? You can't compete with a weirder pair than that."

It was startlingly simple, to slip so smoothly back into nostalgia. Swapping stories, trying to one-up each other's exploits. Barbara would even fondly describe some of the times she worked with the original Dynamic Duo, back during the "good ol' days" – of colorful costumed villains, wacky crimes, and ridiculous motivations. Telling increasingly tall tales and amusing anecdotes that almost made Tim laugh. …Almost.

"So let me get this straight," she repeated, "You flew the Batplane all the way to outer space… to the Justice League Watchtower… by yourself?"

"Yup," Tim responded as he sedately cracked open the last metal vessel still in his lap and took a sip.

Barbara shook her head in disbelief.

"You always were a risk-taker. I still can't believe Bruce went missing and got brainwashed… again. How come I never knew about any of this? Why didn't you contact me?"

"You were off at grad school. I figured I could handle it."

Barbara propped her elbow on the plush, leaning her cheek thoughtfully against it as she tucked her legs underneath her.

"...It's good that you went to them for help."

Tim peered down, picking absently at the paper label, peeling off aluminum.

"Mr. Kent told me afterwards, that Bruce did call him in secret. The operating room's walls were lined with lead though, since they used to take X-Rays and brain scans there. Even the curtain and that stupid apron Joker wore had lead shielding. He had hench-spies stationed everywhere, in Metropolis as well, so he could render me unconscious as soon as Superman showed up and I wouldn't be able to scream. …He really was prepared for everything."

Barbara couldn't believe it. Just how long had that disgusting sicko been planning this?

"What about the Martian? He's a telepath, isn't he?"

Tim shook his head.

"Apparently the last time he attempted a city-wide psychic sweep to look for Luthor, he wasn't able to shut it off. The flood of thoughts nearly drove him mad afterwards. Bruce didn't want to risk it."

"That still doesn't excuse-"

"What's done is done," Tim curtly cut her off, crushing the canister in his grip to transfer his own resentful rage, before tossing it in the trash. "I've accepted the damage. There's no use in going back and flinging hindsight accusations at this point."

Barbara surveyed his sullen expression in overwhelming sympathy.

"…There's one thing Joker didn't count on."

"What?"

"You fighting him off in the end. You were stronger than him. You won."

Knuckles balled on Tim's kneecap.

"That wasn't a win. We lost the moment I confessed everything to him."

"That's not true, Tim."

He shook his head.

"I killed him, Barb. I did what none of us were ever supposed to do. And the worst part is, I – I was glad about it."

She extended her palm to wrap reassuringly around his wrist.

"So? You have every right to be, after what he did to you."

Tim's fist only tautened further as he avoided her eyes, ashamed of his own ugly sin.

"You know, it's ironic – Batman got gassed by Scarecrow once too. Only instead it took away all his fear. He was seriously out of control, to the point where he wasn't even afraid to kill criminals. I had to take him down myself. I… managed to keep him from making a big mistake."

He laughed then, though it sounded hollow. His eyes had such a pained look, moreso than anything physical could've caused him. The hurt was in his heart and soul. Barbara's own heart broke to see him like this. Her brain swam, swarming with remorse. Wishing there was something she could do to help heal him, convince him that he had a good heart, one that was still worthy and capable of loving others, and of being loved in return…

…

Slowly, she inclined forward – and kissed him.

…

For a second, all Tim could register was the flavor of liquor mixed with black licorice – lush and luscious on her lips – before panicking and pushing away.

"What are you doing?"

"I… don't know."

"…I think you're making a big mistake."

Barbara bristled.

"Who says?"

From their positions, she was practically on top of him. He grasped her shoulders, keeping determinedly at bay.

"You're drunk. And probably hallucinating."

"I'm not hallucinating."

He sighed, scraping a hand through his hair.

"I'm not Dick or Bruce, you know. …I'm nobody."

"You're not nobody."

Conflict clouded his eyes.

"Look, this is all kinds of wrong. What about Sam? Besides, your dad would probably kill me…"

The whites around her blue irises widened.

"Kill you…?"

…Shit.

"Babs, no, I didn't mean-"

She slid off, seizing arms around herself, impressing into her flesh.

"He'll kill you. You'll kill him. …Everyone's going to be killed. And it's all my fault."

Shit. Shit shit shit. He should've known better.

"No one's dying. We're all still alive." (…If what they had could be called "living".) "You're just imagining it."

Her claws only clamped tighter.

"Sam… What if he comes after Sam? I'm putting him in danger. Oh God." Her pupils contracted, zoning into the distance. "Sam, don't open the door – he's got a gun!"

This was not good. He was losing her. He tried to twist her around, get her to see him instead of… of… whatever it was she was trapped by.

"Babs? Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me. Whatever you're seeing right now, it's not real. You hear me? It's not real."

She stayed stiff as a board though, staring far off into vacant space.

"Dad. Oh my God, what's he doing to Dad? He's trying to turn him crazy too. No, no, make it stop!"

Worriedly, Tim shook her shoulders.

"Babs, hey, c'mon! Snap out of it!"

Her eyes were glazed, no longer glued to one spot but rolling everywhere else. Darting frantically to and fro. Features contorted, seemingly in some kind of phantom agony.

"My legs. I can't feel my legs. He took my legs."

Nails curled around her abdomen area, clenching cloth in anguish. Scrabbling, scratching, as if searching for something.

"Babs!"

"The baby," she sobbed. "I lost the baby. I couldn't protect him. Couldn't protect… im…"

The last part was muffled by a wounded choke, but… From the way she said it, it kinda sounded like…

His name.

Helpless, Tim looked on with an aching empathy as the normally tough, take-charge woman he always knew coiled into a fetal form, crying miserably. He mused if this was how he must've often looked to the others back then. He didn't know what to do, how to help her. He felt so utterly useless.

Running over options, his mind halted at one possibility. Something that used to help him deal with nightmares as a kid, before… everything. It was probably dumb and desperate, but it was worth a shot.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

He dashed to the bedroom, opening up the nightstand drawer and fumbling around inside. Withdrawing the object from the far back, he considered it grimly for a beat, before gritting his teeth and resolutely taking it back to where Barbara was now rocking herself.

"Babs? Hey, look: Remember this?"

She ceased instantly when she saw the Batarang suspended in front of her.

"You always felt safe whenever Batman and Robin were around, right? Nothing… bad can happen to you as long as they're there."

Sentiment welled in her ducts as she reached out tentatively for the reminder, cradling it close to her breast.

"Just in case you run into trouble up there."

"Dick… Bruce…"

Tim drew her in towards him in a compassionate embrace, soothingly stroking her quivering back as if she were the child.

"It's okay, Babs. It's okay." He reiterated the phrase in her ear. "You're okay. I'm… okay. We're okay."

They stayed like that for a while, and eventually the shudders and sniffles subsided as she seemed to fall into a fitful sleep. While she still whimpered occasionally, holding the Batarang nearer did appear to help somewhat.

Just then, he heard the opening and closing of the front door as Roy returned from his "date", bounding up the steps and stopping short upon witnessing the scene before him.

"Whoahey, am I interrupting something?"

He grinned, and Tim scowled at the guy's terrible timing.

"This isn't what it looks like. Just hurry up and help me get her to the bed."

Roy was about to open his mouth to make another snide remark, but promptly shut it upon seeing the searing look Tim speared at him, and the sweat and tears on the moaning visitor's visage. Switching into serious mode, he lent a steady hand with supporting her to the mattress. He was still a hero himself, after all, always available to aid any damsels in distress.

As he agreed to take over looking after the patient for the time being, Tim thanked him and left the bedside temporarily, pulling out his cell again as he traveled downstairs. Inhaling deeply, he began to punch in another number he knew all too well, forever engraved in the back of his skull.

After a couple rings, the other end picked up with a gruff greeting.

"…Yes?"

The cold, almost impatient lack of pleasantry was all Tim needed to confirm he had indeed reached the right person.

"Bruce, it's me. …Barbara needs help."

…

When Barbara finally awoke, the first thing she spotted was Tim sitting on a reversed chair next to her, chin reposed idly on his forearms.

"Hey."

"…Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, I guess. …How long was I out?"

"The whole night. You were tossing and turning a lot."

She elevated gradually, sensing a moist towel fall from her crown onto the sheets in the process. Had he been nursing her this whole time?

As she tracked its descent, she saw she was still adhering to the Batarang as well. She blushed a bit at how babyish she must have seemed, to have to rely on something like this to calm her down.

"Um, thanks. …You can have this back now."

He relieved her of the improvised crutch, and in exchange he handed her a small vial of medication.

"Here, take this. It's similar to what Dr. Thompkins used to give me, but more concentrated. It's not a permanent cure, but it should help with the terrors. It'll likely knock you totally out for a few more days, but you won't have to suffer nightmares during it. If it doesn't work or you're still experiencing symptoms afterwards, call her and she'll adjust the dosage."

"You got this from Leslie?"

"Bruce did."

She gaped in astonishment.

"You actually spoke to him?"

"He just told me what I needed to know, then hung up and sent Alfred over with the stuff. …Typical, huh?"

His jaw drooped a little further into folds, as did his tired-looking lids.

"You're not the first Scarecrow victim to undergo relapses like this. It's rare, but everyone responds to the fear serum differently. Yours is a more severe case."

Barbara thought about how many others had to live their lives in a compromised state (or lost them entirely) all because of some psychopath who kept breaking out of Arkham – no matter how many times they put him back in – if not released through the revolving door due to (hell, courtesy of) all the corruption in the system. How many lives were really spared, while others still suffered because of their incompetence? Inconsequence.

"You know, sometimes I wonder: If what we were doing was ever really the right thing? After what happened with the earthquake… God, I don't know. Maybe this city is beyond hope. …In the end, did we even make any difference? Was it worth it – any of it? We've saved a bunch of people, sure, but at what cost? I mean, just look at us… We're a mess."

Tim simply shrugged.

"At least Dick's still doing okay over in Blüdhaven. And Bruce seems to be handling things fine on his own. Besides, it's not like he ever really needed us anyway. Because he's Batman."

Barbara observed as Tim toyed with the Batarang in his hands, balancing the tip on the chair back. She dropped her view towards the blankets.

"…You're not him, you know," she pronounced harshly. "You'll never be him."

Her own fingers fumbled with the damp napkin, and bottle of medicine, before looking up again with a smile.

"But, that's not a bad thing."

As she said this, she extended out to pat his cheek, noting the dark bags under his eyes. Had he even slept at all, she wondered? …Then again, she was probably taking up his bed, she realized with sudden embarrassment.

Tim seemed even more embarrassed by the affectionate contact, turning away with a cough. The memory of what she had done surged back to her cheeks, and she hastily detached, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, which bloomed a matching humiliated hue.

"Listen, about what happened last night…"

Tim merely waved off whatever she was about to say in advance.

"We were both drunk. It doesn't count."

"…You're awfully quick to dismiss." Detecting his fidgeting, she gleamed in comprehension. "Ah, don't tell me – you've never kissed anyone before?"

A pure pink tinge faintly colored his complexion, corroborating her suspicion.

"Ehehe, did I steal your first kiss, Boy Virgin?"

"Sh- shut up."

His flush deepened further.

"It's not like I've exactly had much opportunity to try it," he murmured in his defense. "…Besides, if we're counting that kind of thing, technically my first time would've been with Dick."

"Oh."

He sniped a sulk at her reaction.

"I gave him CPR once. What were you thinking?"

"Nothing," she declared innocently, hand hovering over her mouth to obstruct a snicker. "I bet this time was a lot better though. I'm sure you must've thoroughly enjoyed it, if not to some extent."

Tim averted his eyes again as she winked at him.

"Wh- who knows."

"Oh please. Don't deny you were the least bit curious. You think I never noticed you sneaking peeks while we were getting changed?"

Tim burned burgundy as he shifted sight down to his toes.

"I was 13. What'd you expect?"

She nodded sagely.

"You are a boy, after all. It's only natural for these things to occur."

She giggled in entertainment at his expense. When the chuckles died down, she checked the time on the alarm clock by the pillow.

"…I guess I should get going now. I'll need to call in to the station to tell them I'm taking the next days off."

He helped see her out. Standing awkwardly in the entrance, he rubbed his neck before addressing encouragingly.

"You're a great cop, Barb. You're gonna do a lot of good things for this city. I know you'll make it a better place."

She beamed.

"Thank you, Tim. …I'll start by confiscating 'this'."

She held up the contraband, which Roy had taken the liberty of hiding again, but there was no way he could outsmart a Bat, even if she wore a different symbol now.

"And I better not catch you with anything like this again, or I will take you in. Got it?"

Tim winced at the strict lecture and slap on the wrist, but nodded. Barbara softened as she reached around to envelop in a broad hug.

"…Don't be a stranger, Tim. You're the only one I can still talk to about all this."

He wavered, but kindly reciprocated the gesture. As she withdrew, she raised an arm to lightly pet his hair, discerning he had finally hit that growth spurt; he was almost at her height now.

"Listen. Someday, you're gonna meet someone special, who loves you just the way you are. And she's gonna be so lucky to have you in her life."

Tim scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Like that's ever gonna happen."

She took his hands in hers. Hands that still twitched and trembled every once in a while, as if afraid to even be touched. Hands that had, in his opinion, committed the greatest act of transgression, taking another's soul and doomed toll on his own – but had also toiled all night to keep changing her cool kerchief, tending and tenderly wiping her temple in enduring devotion to charitable ideals. That had prostrated and prayed, begging for a favor from "God" for her sake, subjugating self in spite of whatever spiteful feelings he bore towards said sore subject. …That had rescued so many lives at the risk of his own, without asking for any reward other than to have a place to call "home", and a "family" who cared for him as much as he did for them. (And even that had been mostly taken from him too, something for which she regretfully shared the blame.)

"Don't give up hope. Things will change. It's gonna get better. I promise."

She stooped forward to peck his cheek, before letting go.

"Thank you, again, for everything. I'll see you around, Tim."

"Yeah. See ya."

She left with a wave, and he halfheartedly did the same as he watched her go.

…

About a week later, after she'd fully recovered and gone back to work as good as new, she received an urgent call from Roy at the hospital.

…

Tim had tried to kill himself.

————————–

That sky glowed all calico, like phosphor in the sea To the ground we fall, she owns us all Kings and boys and beast Kings and boys and beast

[verilyruth]

A New Beginning

(Part One of my series, A New Beginning)

AO3

Summary:

“Katherine? What’s the matter?” “Nothing, I just…” She took a moment to look at him and realized that what she was doing was unfair and selfish. So much was going on right now that he didn’t have the time to think about her. Christ, he was suddenly responsible for feeding his family and co-organizing a strike. And even assuming that he was interested in Katherine, this wasn’t the time for her to have this discussion with him. “Nothing.”

Or: Katherine likes Davey, not Jack.

Pairings: Davey/Katherine

  Katherine watched as Davey attempted to control the boys at the lodging house. He, Specs, and Race were trying to help the injured kids and calm down the crying ones. Some of the other older boys were also trying to help but they all looked exhausted and most of them seemed to not even have the energy to rise from their bunks. Katherine wasn’t sure she had ever seen somebody look as overwhelmed as Davey currently did. 

  She approached him when he was talking to Race, figuring it was better than waiting until he was helping a kid again.

  “I don't know, Race,” he said. “I’m…I’m going to try but…” Davey inhaled sharply and Race put a hand on his bicep.

  “It’s okay, Davey. I know you’re trying.” He walked away.

  Katherine saw Davey pinch the bridge of his nose in a way that suggested he was holding back tears.

  “Davey?” 

  He spun around. 

  “Oh, Ms. Plumber. Are you okay? I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were injured.” He looked guilty. 

  “No! No, I’m fine, Davey, I just wanted to see how I can help.” 

  “Oh. Um…I’m not sure that you can.”

  “Well, what do you have to do? Maybe I can help with that,” she said. Much to her dismay, he looked shocked by her offer. 

  “I’m…aren’t you supposed to stay out of it?”

  “I am. This isn’t the strike right now, I’m just with a bunch of injured kids who happen to be striking.”

  Davey chuckled humorously. 

  “Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “Of course.”

  “I…I’m trying to get them all food but I’m not sure how. Mr. Kloppman - he runs the lodging house - he’s not making anybody pay for dinner tonight but not this many kids are usually here or buy it so he doesn’t have half as much as we need. I’m…Jack keeps an emergency fund but it’s not enough and I don’t know what to do.” He looked desperate and helpless.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay, Davey.”

  “I have to figure out how to treat the injured kids too. Some of them should really see doctors but they can’t. And…and…” he trailed off and looked directly in her eyes. “Why am I in charge? I’ve been a newsie for less than a week! Race is Jack’s second and…I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I get that he’s helping, but I don’t understand why I’m in control. Why?” 

  “They see you as a responsible person.” 

  “But I’m not! I’m just as lost as the rest of them!”

  “Yeah, but they don’t know that. Here, why don’t you sit down for a minute?” She tried to take his arm and lead him to the old couch but he shook his head. 

  “No, there’s no time.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  He bit his lip contemplatively for a moment. 

  “Could you…do you know anything about first aid?”

  “A little bit. I have younger siblings.” 

  Davey exhaled amusedly. 

  “That’ll do it. Would you be able to check on some of the younger boys? Most of them are just bruised or have scrapes from falling that need cleaning. If you ask Specs he’ll get you some rags and water.” 

  She nodded. 

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Plumber.” 

  “Katherine,” she corrected. She got a weak smile in return. 

  “Katherine.”

  “Davey. Davey. Davey!” Katherine ended up shaking his arm to bring him out of his catatonic state. He was sitting on a bunk and the little kid he was helping a minute ago had gotten up, but he remained, staring off into space.

  “Hmm? Oh, Katherine. Sorry. What do you need?”

  “Nothing except for you to get some rest.”

  “What? No, there’s still stuff to be done.”

  “Like what? All the kids are treated and most of them are asleep, even some of the older ones.”

  “We have to talk about finding Jack, and helping Crutchie, and how we’re going to proceed. I…fuck, we still have to get food for them for when they wake up.”

  “Let others handle it.”

  “I can’t.” He shook his head. “Race asked me to be in charge so I have to be.”

  Katherine sighed. 

  “At least come sit on the couch. The other boys who are awake are over there.”

  “Okay.” 

  “Where’s your brother? Les, right?” 

  Davey nodded. 

  “Yeah. I took him home.”

  “What? When?”

  “Right from the distribution center.” He stood up with a cringe. 

  “Davey, are you hurt besides your face? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m fine. I fell, it’s just from that.”

  She was skeptical but decided not to push. They walked over to the couch area where the boys were spread out on the couch, the few chairs and the floor. He rested his hands on the arm of the couch and put his weight on them.

  “Take my spot, Davey,” Mush said, standing from the couch. 

  “What? No, that’s okay.” 

  “You need it more than I do.”

  “I’m okay standing.” 

  Katherine disagreed and it seemed the boys did too. All of them ordered him onto the couch between Race and Albert. He only relented when Mush put his hands on his shoulders and physically led him there. Davey looked at her. 

  “Katherine, you should sit, I’m fine.” 

  “I’m not injured.” She sat down on the floor next to Specs.” 

  “But-”

  “What, because I’m a girl I can’t sit on the floor? Seriously, this isn’t the time for chivalry.” 

  He nodded reluctantly. 

  “Okay. What’s the plan?” 

  “Let’s wait and regroup in the morning,” Specs said. “It’s not like we could sell tonight even if we wanted to.” The others nodded. Davey didn’t seem happy but he didn’t argue either.

  “Fine. What about food?”

  The others looked at each other tensely.

  “Kloppman said he can feed twenty but there’s fifty-two kids here total.”

  “All right. I…I’m sorry, but I have to get food for my siblings and parents first but then I can buy for…” Davey was quiet for a moment, probably doing math. “I can probably afford four others. Five, if we spread it out more.”

  “I can do two,” Finch said.

  “Is that including yourself?”

  “Three, including myself.” 

  “Good. Seriously, all of you have to make sure you eat first, got it?” Nobody said anything. “Got it?” 

  “Fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you. So that’s twenty-eight.”

  Katherine sat and listened to them try to figure it out, feeling like she should say something. She could pay for food for all of them but she didn’t want to compromise her journalistic integrity more than she already had. There was only so much she could ethically do. 

  Then again, she had to consider if her ethics as a journalist outweighed her ethics as a person. She decided to wait and see. Katherine wouldn’t let anyone go hungry but she would let them pay for what they could. Still, she felt a guilty pit in her stomach.

  “No, Romeo, it’s okay,” Davey said as she zoned back in. “That goes for all of you. If you can’t afford it then say so.” 

  “Sorry, Davey. I don’t even have enough for myself,” Sniper admitted. 

  “Don’t be sorry. We’ve got enough food for thirty-eight people, and that’s pretty impressive.”

  “How do we get enough for fourteen more?” JoJo asked.

  “I…I can go to Mr. Jacobi and see if he’ll let me pay him back later or work it off,” Davey said. “If someone who he knows better wants to join me just to ask him that would be great. I’ll handle the payment.” 

  “Davey, you’re not doing it by yourself,” Mush said. “That ain’t fair.”

  “No. I got us into this mess.” The boys all protested. “No, I did! I’ll figure it out. If anyone has any better ideas I’m happy to hear them but I don’t think we do. How much is a meal at Jacobi’s usually?” 

  “About a nickel.”

  Davey looked pained. Katherine couldn’t imagine what it was like to be so poor that you needed to work off seventy cents. God, how could her father be so selfish? These were children! He would never accept it if someone did this to his kids so why were these kids any different?

  “All right, that’s fine,” Davey said, even though it clearly wasn’t. “Specs, when you said fifty-two, were you including the kids who don’t stay here too?”

  “Yeah. You’re eating here, right?”

  “No, I’ll eat at home.” 

  Except he wouldn’t. Katherine knew that face. It was the same face she wore when she told her mother that she, Darcy, and Bill were going for a late dinner with friends when they were really going to Darcy’s apartment to get wine drunk because she knew it would upset her and it was the same face she wore when she told her boss that his wife was lovely even though she was the rudest person she had ever met. He was lying to protect the feelings of others. When he had said he was feeding his parents and his siblings, that was exactly what he meant - not himself. 

  “Then it’s fifty-one.” 

  “Great. I’ll go down to Jacobi’s now and see what he says.” 

  “I’ll join you,” Katherine said and stood up. “I don’t know him well but I’ve been there for lunch a few times.” 

  Davey nodded.

  “You go to Jacobi’s for lunch?”

  “I have once or twice. It’s near my office, so…”

  “Yeah.” He kicked a rock as they walked.

  “Davey, let me buy the food.”

  “What? No. That’s very generous but we can’t put you out like that.”

  “Davey-”

  “No! It’s a lot of money and I can’t ask someone who isn’t even responsible for us to do that. I’m not going to let you potentially go hungry because of us.”

  She stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Katherine didn’t want to lie but she didn’t want to make Davey feel embarrassed either. He seemed to notice her expression and he blushed again. “Oh. Sorry. I should’ve…I mean, not that you look poor or anything - not that poor people look a certain way, I just meant that you dress nice, and your hair is always perfect - we’ve only met twice, but both times and…and - yeah, I’m going to stop talking now.” 

  Katherine giggled and (unfortunately for her) snorted. Davey looked at her but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I really shouldn’t have made any assumptions about you.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Davey.” Katherine laid her free hand on his bicep and held it. Davey’s eyes jumped to it and then quickly returned up. “My family has money and I want to use it for this. Please?”

  Davey sighed.

  “I can’t let you pay for all of them. You’ll compromise your journalistic integrity.” 

  Katherine smiled. She hadn’t expected anyone but her to be thinking about that. 

  “Okay. Just the fourteen you guys can’t.”

  “It’s thirteen,” he reminded her. 

  “No, it really isn’t. You’re a bad liar, Davey, and you need to eat.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve gone without food for a night before, it’s really not that big a deal.” 

  Her heart twinged and she found herself gripping him a little tighter. 

  “It’s a big deal to me. We’ll talk to Mr. Jacobi and then you’ll sit and eat.”

  “I have to-”

  “They can survive on their own for an extra twenty minutes. It’s not like all that food is going to be ready anyway. Okay?”

  He sighed and nodded. 

  “Thank you. It’s really kind. I’ll pay you back when I have the money, I promise.”

  “Please don’t.”

  Jacobi agreed to make the meals and told Davey to bring some other boys to come back later to help carry them. He even agreed to let them use his dishes if they promised to bring them back the next day. Katherine asked if they could have something to eat and ordered Davey a soup and a half sandwich. 

  “You really didn’t need to order both. Just one would have been more than enough for me,” he said as they sat down. Katherine rolled her eyes. 

  “Don’t be silly.” She looked at his hand where it lay on the table. “Davey, your hand.”

  “What?”

  “It’s shaking.” 

  “Oh.” He glanced down. “Just tired, I guess. I’m fine.” He avoided further questioning because Mr. Jacobi brought them the food. Katherine watched as he ate. It was different than seeing her friends and family eat. When they had meals, it was relaxed and casual and there was nothing special about it. When Davey ate, he ate slowly and carefully, savoring the food and trying to make the meal last as long as he could. He made satisfied noises as he went (that were definitely not at all adorable, nope, not even a little). 

  Katherine stopped being entertained by it after a minute though. She realized the reason he was eating as if it was his last meal was probably because he didn’t have any idea when he would eat again. He was on strike now and she didn’t know how he was going to buy food.

  “Thank you so much,” he said after a minute or two. “I really, really appreciate it.”

  “I…yeah, no problem. Any time.” 

  “I never have meals this big so it’s…” he trailed off and blushed suddenly, as if realizing what he had said. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” 

  It hurt to hear that. A soup and a half sandwich shouldn’t be a treat, it should be the kind of thing Davey could have whenever he wanted. He was skinny, certainly, but she hadn’t considered the idea that it could be due to lack of food more than anything else. Come to think of it, most of the newsies were pretty skinny.

  She cleared her throat awkwardly. “So it’s good?”

  “Yeah, it’s great, thanks,” he said with a nod. “Sorry that I’m taking so long. I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

  Katherine smiled softly at him. 

  “Take your time.”

  “Katherine! Katherine!” Katherine turned around and saw Davey running through the crowded street, trying his best not to knock over any pedestrians. 

  “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” 

  “Sorry, ma’am!” He swiveled his head around to apologize as he worked his way towards her. 

  “Katherine! Wait!”

  “Davey? What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you hurt? Did you find Jack?” 

  “Wh- no, I’m fine. I just…” David sighed and handed her the paper he was holding. She looked down at it and then back up at him, confused. 

  “Why are you handing me the paper I just gave you?” 

  “I didn't read it before and now I have.”

  “Is there something wrong with it?”

  He picked his cap up and ran his hand through his hair.

  “You talked about me.”

  “Okay?” 

  “I’m not the leader, Jack is.”

  “I talked about him too.” 

  “Yeah, but then why’d you have to talk about me at all?” He sounded frustrated and Katherine was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were standing on a busy street corner, people passing by them on their way to work. 

  “Davey, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what the issue is.”

  “It wasn’t important to talk about me!”

  “Why not? You and Jack started the strike and you’re the vice president of the union.”

  He paled. 

  “I’m the what?” 

  Katherine couldn’t help but laugh. Davey looked upset and she tried to suppress it but she just couldn’t. 

  “Did you not know? I asked Jack and he said you’re the vice president.”

  “I’m…no, I’m not.”

  “Then who is?”

  “I don’t know! Race? Crutchie? Not me!” 

  “Davey,” she said softly, touching his arm, “why are you so upset by this?”

  “Because…it’s hard to explain but it’s too late now anyway. Never mind. Sorry to bother you.” He turned away from her but she grabbed his wrist. 

  “What’s wrong? Seriously, if I did something wrong you have to tell me so that I don’t do it again.” 

  David shook his head.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters! Why don’t we go somewhere a little less crowded and we can talk about this, okay?”

  “No, I have to get my brother and go look for Jack.”

  “Well, then let’s do it together.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” he assured her. 

  “I’m in this with you guys now, okay? One hundred percent.” 

  He nodded reluctantly. 

  “Okay.”

  “Great. Where should we look?”

  “I told the guys I’d look for him at Medda’s - the Bowery, I mean. She owns a theater there.”

  “I’ve met her. All right, let’s go get your brother.”

  “Yeah. He’s back at Jacobi’s with a couple of the boys.” He started walking but Katherine stood still. He stopped and looked at her. “I thought you were coming.”

  “What, you’re not going to offer me your arm, like a gentleman?”

  “I-I…I’m not- I- sorry,” he spluttered and blushed. Katherine laughed.

  “I’m just teasing.” 

  “Oh. Okay.” He walked back to her and offered his arm anyway.

  “So why are you so upset about the article?” 

  David sighed and looked down for a second. He almost bumped into an elderly woman and Katherine had to try really hard not to laugh again. He kept his eyes up after that. 

  “It’s not that…it’s a good story, Katherine, it really is. I mean it, you’re an excellent writer.”

  “But?”

  “But I would’ve preferred not to be mentioned. It’s my fault, I should’ve told you beforehand.”

  “You made a speech that got other kids to join your side. Your words are the reason yesterday worked even a little.”

  “Also the reason why Crutchie’s in jail.”

  “Hey! That’s not your fault, all right?” 

  “I-“

  “All right?” she repeated sternly. He sighed but nodded. 

  “All right.”

  “My point is, it would have been weird not to include you. You’re a big part of the story, Davey. Why didn’t you want your name in there?”

  Katherine watched as Davey chewed on his lip. He seemed to not even realize he was doing it. She wished he wasn’t so nervous but she couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

  “I want to go back to school.”

  “Back? Sorry, I just don’t know you all that well and I’m-”

  “No, it’s okay. Yeah, my dad got injured on the job and so my siblings and I needed to go to work. If he finds work again then we’ll go back to school.” 

  “Siblings? Not just Les?”

  “I have a sister too.”

  “Yeah? Does she sell too?”

  “No, Sarah got a job at a factory. It’s more consistent, you know?”

  “Tell me about school,” she said. “What does that have to do with being in the paper?”

  “I’m not exactly popular at my school. I’ve got…I go to a school with people who really don’t like me for a bunch of reasons and no one else has ever had to leave because they needed to work. I was already going to be mocked when I go back and this is just going to make it worse.”

  “You’re embarrassed to be a newsie?”

  “No.”

  “Then why-”

  “Because the things they mock me for aren’t always embarrassing.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t ask any questions because she had a feeling she wouldn’t enjoy the answer, no matter what it ended up being. “Well, I’m sorry. I won’t mention you in the future if it’s going to hurt you.”

  “Don’t be sorry; it’s not your fault. And if you want to mention me again, you can. Might as well, right?”

 “Right.” Katherine smiled. She meant to take her eyes away but they seemed locked on Davey’s face. He was just so…handsome. She tried to think of a better word but couldn’t (and wasn’t willing to contemplate what that meant for her skills as a writer). She snapped herself out of it. “So you think he’s at the Bowery?” 

  “Davey! Wait a minute please.” Katherine grabbed Davey’s arm as they made to exit the theater and pulled him into an alcove. 

  “What’s wrong?” He looked at her with concern. 

  “David, are you coming?” Les shouted. 

  “He’ll be there in a minute, Les! I’m just borrowing him.” 

  “Why are you borrowing me?”

  Katherine hadn’t let go of his arm but he didn’t pull away. This was stupid. She never did this and she told herself that there was a reason for it. Katherine had been flirted with by plenty of guys in her life. Most of them, however, just wanted to marry a Pulitzer. 

  It wasn’t like there weren’t guys she was interested in before, but this felt different. Usually, she developed crushes after she knew a guy for a long time and by then she never thought it was worth ruining a friendship over. The first real conversation she had had with Davey was only a day ago but she already wanted to kiss him.

  Was it a bad idea? Probably. Was she going to do it anyway? Probably. It wasn’t like everything she had done in the past week or so wasn’t crazy anyway. 

  “Hello?” Davey called her attention back to the present. “Katherine, is everything okay?” She nodded. “Are you sure? You don’t seem very sure.”

  “I’m sure, Davey.” 

  “Okay? Then what’s happening?”

  “Nothing, I just…” She took a moment to look at him and realized that what she was doing was unfair and selfish. So much was going on right now that he didn’t have the time to think about her. Christ, he was suddenly responsible for feeding his family and co-organizing a strike. And even assuming that he was interested in Katherine, this wasn’t the time for her to have this discussion with him. “Nothing.”

  Davey frowned and looked like he was about to say something but he was interrupted before he could even begin. 

  “Dave! Let’s go! Your brother’s getting antsy!” Jack yelled.

  “He really means he’s getting antsy,” Davey told her. She laughed. 

  “I heard that!”

  She found Davey with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees, sitting on a staircase backstage. Les was absent. She sat down on the step above him and said nothing. Katherine had no idea if he noticed her presence or not but she waited anyway.

  After a while, he inhaled and said, “I’m an idiot.”

  “What? No, you’re not.” Katherine slid down to sit next to him. “Why would you say that?” 

  He picked his head up and looked at her. 

  “I can’t believe I thought this would work.” 

  “We all thought it would. And I don’t think all hope is lost. It’s obvious that everyone else is united and once we get Jack back-”

  “I don’t mean the rally!” he said. “I mean the strike.” 

  “What? Davey, the strike is going to work,” she tried to assure him but he just shook his head. 

  “No. No.” Davey stood up and started pacing in front of her. “We’re going to have to give in soon and…fuck! Fuck Jack!” Katherine remained silent, thinking it best to let him vent. “Fuck him for making me believe in him and I know this isn’t the point but fuck him for making me look like an idiot! He promised me I wouldn’t have to be the one to speak!”

  “You did a really good job, Davey. I’m sure if he had let you keep-”

  “I sounded ridiculous! But…” He deflated completely. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not? Why shouldn’t I? Without Jack there is no more strike! The newsies need a leader who knows what he’s doing.”

  “Nobody knows what they’re doing! This is brand new and none of us know how to do it but the newsies have been following you most of the strike. This is the second time he’s disappeared.” 

  “You can be the leader then.”

  “I’m happy to help but they need a newsie to lead them. You know that.”

  Davey shook his head decisively. 

  “No, I’m not- I can’t be the one to do it. If they still want to then fine but it isn’t going to be me. Race can do it.”

  “Davey, you know I like Race but he isn’t going to be able to do it like you would.”

  “You saw him the other day in Jacobi’s! He gave everyone hope again without them even realizing what he was doing.”

  “And I saw you speaking the first day of the strike. I saw you organize a citywide rally! You’re their de facto leader now! You shook hands with Spot Conlon, which I’m told is a pretty big deal.” Davey scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you listen to yourself and seize the day? Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Because there’s nothing to seize anymore! The day’s over.”

  “So we start again tomorrow.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “I do.” Katherine stood up and went to him. Davey didn’t pull away when she put a hand on his shoulder and she took that as a good sign. “You need to have more faith in yourself. Let’s go find the others and-”

  “No.” He shook her off. “No, I’m sorry, Katherine, but I’m finding Les and going home.”

  “But-”

  “It’s what I should have done as soon as the rally ended. I’m not a strike leader - I’m a brother and a son and that’s my responsibility right now.”

  “Davey, stop. You have to be more rational about-”

  “Good night, Ms. Plumber.” He kissed her cheek and left. 

  She watched him walk away. Katherine knew that unless she had a solid plan nothing was going to convince him.

  “Oh, and if I were a boy you’d be looking at me through one swollen eye!”

  “Oh yeah, don’t let that stop you, huh? Give me your best shot!” 

  Katherine pulled her fist back and punched Jack as hard as she could. 

  “Fuck!” he screamed and fell to the ground. Katherine shook out her hurt hand, hissing in pain. “What the fuck, Katherine?”

  She shrugged. 

  “You said I could hit you.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think you would! Or that it would hurt that much! Jesus, you can pack a punch.”

  “Thank you.” 

  “At least help me up, would ya?” She begrudgingly extended the hand she hadn’t hit him with and he pulled himself up. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah.” She paused and looked at him regretfully. Maybe it was wrong to punch him. She was quickly learning that she knew a lot less about the hardships people her age went through and she had no idea what Jack’s life was like. “I…I need to know that you didn’t cave for the money.”

  Jack exhaled sharply and turned around. 

  “No, I spoke the truth. You win a fight when you got the other fella down eating pavement,” he explained sadly. “All right, you heard your father. No matter how many days we strike he ain’t never giving up. I don’t…I don’t know what else we can do!”

  “Ah, but I do,” she told him, excited.

  “Oh come on.”

  “Really, Jack, really? Only you can have a good idea? Or is it because I’m a girl?”

  “Oh, I did not say nothing about-”

  “This would be a good time to shut up,” Katherine suggested (ordered, really). “Being boss doesn’t mean you have to have all the answers, just the brains to recognize the right one when you hear it.” She took the paper out of her pocket.

  “I’m listening,” Jack said, sounding beyond exasperated.

  “Good for you. The strike was your idea, the rally was Davey’s, and now my plan will take us to the finish line.” He took it from her. “Deal with it.”

  “The Children’s Crusade?”

  Katherine explained it to him and was pleased that he couldn’t help but admit that it was a good idea - risky, but good. Jack figured out that they could use the printing press in the The World building’s cellar.

  “Let’s go,” Jack said. “If we’re going to get this done by morning we need to get started.” She followed him down the firescape but hesitated when they reached the street. “What?”

  “Where does Davey live?” 

  “What, he ain’t at the lodging house with the others?” 

  Katherine rolled her eyes. 

  “No, Jack, believe it or not he didn’t hang around waiting for you to come to your senses.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, I’m pretty sure Les was crying when I saw him and he had to get him home.”

  “Well, we ain’t gonna be able to do this without him.” 

  “Agreed. We just have to convince him of that.” 

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s lost hope, Jack. He doesn’t think the strike’s going to work.”

  “Why?” 

  “Because you abandoned him! Twice!”

  “I didn’t mean to-”

  “I know that and you know that but he doesn’t,” she explained. “Come on, we have to go get him and you have to apologize.” He started to protest but she shut him up with a single look. 

  “Well, then you go get those friends of yours you mentioned and I’ll go.”

  “We should go together.”

  “Why?” 

  Because she wanted to make sure he was okay. Because she wanted to see his face when he started thinking they could win again. Because she wanted to see him. Jack was right though. They didn’t have time for both of them to go to Davey and it was more important that he did. Reluctantly, Katherine conceded. 

  “You’re right. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” 

  “Good luck.”

  “What the hell, Katherine? It’s almost one in the morning.” Bill did not look happy to see her. 

  “Hey!” She pointed to Darcy behind her. “He’s here too, be mad at him!” 

  “He looks like you dragged him out of bed.”

  “She did,” Darcy said with a perfectly timed yawn. Katherine glared at him. 

  “What’s going on?”

  “Get dressed and we’ll explain on the way.” 

  “Come inside and explain to me while I get dressed. I want to know what I’m getting myself into.” He walked away and left the door open for them. “So how illegal is whatever we’re about to do?” Bill asked from beyond his closed bedroom door. 

  “Only slightly,” Katherine promised. “We’re sneaking into The World building’s cellar and printing something.”

  “Is this about the strike?” 

  “Yes. We want to shut down the city all together. Not just the newsies, but every working kid.”

  “I’m in,” he said without hesitation. “I’m assuming Davey is going to be there?” 

  “What? How do you know Davey?” 

  Darcy snorted from his place on the couch.

  “You mentioned him at least five times yesterday. It’ll be nice to meet the guy who gave Katherine Pulitzer herself writer’s block.”

  “I don’t have writer’s block.”

  “Speaker’s block, then,” Bill amended Darcy’s statement as he opened the door. “You kept having trouble describing him.”

  “Stop talking, both of you. We need to go. I told Jack we’d be there in an hour and that was forty minutes ago.” 

  “Yes, well, we wouldn’t want to be late to meet Davey.” 

  She punched Bill’s arm. 

  “Ow! What was that for? Darcy’s the one who said it!”

  “You enjoyed it more than he did.”

  “Katherine!” 

  “Davey?” She was about to leave to go to the governor but was stopped by a gentle hand on her wrist. “Is everything okay?” 

  “Yeah, just…” He kissed her on the cheek. “Good luck.”

  “Y-you too.” He turned away with a smile. Behind her, Bill and Darcy laughed quietly. “I hate you both.” 

  After Jack came outside to tell them that they had won, the newsies bought their papers and took a few minutes to chat and celebrate Crutchie’s return. Most of them didn’t really have time to, but the energy in the air was invigorating and people wanted to be with their friends. Les was talking excitedly to JoJo about something and Katherine took the opportunity to approach Davey, who was counting his papers. 

  “So, Mr. Jacobs, how are you planning on celebrating your big victory?” 

  He looked up at her and smiled, though it seemed a little forced. 

  “I’m going to sell and then go buy food from the grocer’s. Fun, huh?” 

  “Very. Well, when you’re done with that, I’m taking the boys down to Jacobi’s for dinner this evening. Want to join? I’m buying.”

  Davey shook his head regretfully. 

  “I’d like to but I can’t. Thanks though.” 

  “Oh. Okay.” Could he actually not come or was she being obvious and this was his way of letting her down easy?

  “Sorry, I just haven’t had any time to get chores done in a while.”

  “Chores? You just won a strike and you’re going to do chores while everyone else celebrates?” 

  Davey huffed, apparently annoyed, and put his bag on forcefully. 

  “Yes, chores. Sorry if that doesn’t work for you, Ms. Pulitzer.” 

  “What did I do? Why are you so upset with me? Is it about my father? Because you weren’t that-”

  “It’s not about your father.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “You led me on!” he exclaimed. Davey looked around them and then repeated himself more quietly. “You led me on and you made me think you liked me and then you kissed Jack.”

  She sputtered incredulously.

  “I kissed Jack on the cheek! Are you serious right now?” 

  “You’re allowed to kiss whomever you want, Katherine,” he said dismissively and started to walk towards Les. 

  “Hey! Would you listen to me? I kissed Jack on the cheek! Who told you we kissed? Did Jack? I swear to-”

  “No! Not Jack!” 

  “Then who?” 

  Davey looked down and picked at a thread on his bag. 

  “Les,” he eventually admitted. Katherine laughed. “Hey! How was I supposed to know what he meant?”

  “Whatever! I’m assuming this means you’re interested?”

  “Interested? As in-”

  Katherine didn't let him finish before she pulled him into a kiss, heedless of the fact that they were right in front of the distribution window. Davey didn’t freeze for even a second, and kissed her right back, his arms wrapping around her. He had one on her waist and one on her neck. She took the opportunity to draw him in closer, her hands going to his shoulder blades and the back of his head.

  It was magical. It wasn’t her first kiss but she could tell it was his. That was okay though. He was excited and passionate about it and Katherine loved it. She felt warm inside and wanted time to step and let the moment last forever.

  “Guys!” Katherine heard someone yell, and she distantly thought it might have been Les, but she didn’t really care. Then, there was suddenly more yelling and she smiled into the kiss. Davey pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.

  “So? Was that a better celebration than chores, Davey?”

  “David.”

  “What?”

  “I’d- I’d prefer if you called me David.” 

  Katherine smiled and kissed him again, but only briefly. As she ended the kiss he leaned in for more and she laughed at his eagerness.

  “Jacobi’s then? Or are you still too busy?”

  “No, I-”

  “Davey!” Jack called. David let go of her and turned to him. “Want to do the honors?” Jack held out his hand and pulled him up onto the box.

  “Newsies!” David yelled. “Hit the streets! The sun is up, the headline stinks, and I’ve got a date!”

  Katherine smiled and when he smiled back, it felt like a new beginning.

[c-is-for-circinate]

I wasn’t expecting it, but I think one of the most fascinating things to watch in Campaign 1 of CritRole (and increasingly interesting in Campaign 2!) are the different interactions characters have around gods and religion, and I’m so excited for more.

Pike loves her quiet, distant god of healing and second chances in such an easy, sure-footed way, with bright faith and service.  It’s so simple for her, in the middle of all the chaos and muddle and ethical doubt in the hearts of everyone else she loves, and it’s exactly the bright contrast the whole group needs, without being cheap.  Faith and sureness in a god doesn’t actually make Pike less confused about everything all the time either.  Piety doesn’t make her less fierce.  Pike’s fascinating, because she’s sweet and she’s good, deep to her bones, she heals and cares and builds temples and gives council, and she’s also a dragon-slaying monstah who’ll charge out of her room in a midnight assassination attempt naked in her gauntlets, shield in one hand and mace in the other, bleeding from everywhere and ready to fight.  And those things don’t conflict for her, because sometimes goodness is fierce, and the pieces that wouldn’t fit together for someone else do for her, and damnit I miss Pike again already.

Percy will make a deal with any god or demon who’ll offer him a good enough bargain.  That’s who he is, Percy the Negotiator (do we have official alignments on Vox Machina?  Is Percy actually Lawful Neutral or does he just really, really feel like it?).   It’s selfish and arrogant and full of a very deep respect for the gods all at the same time.   Percy in the Raven Queen’s temple is as humble and honest and bare as he ever gets, stripped down and vulnerable, and even then he’s controlled and deliberate in offering his own vulnerability, like it’s a gift, like it’s something she might want, like a price he’s willingly choosing to pay in hopes of getting the thing he desperately needs in return.  He respects gods, and gives them his humility, but he doesn’t have faith, not really, not the soul-deep belief that some other power would do anything for him that he didn’t pay for himself.  And meanwhile he reveres people--not person, but people, the work of human lifetimes, the metaphysical enormity of cities, of countries, of history, of concepts and beliefs and things built that become more than the sum of their parts, for good or for ill.  The sacred glory of Westrun and Whitestone.  The near-divine horror of evil for the firearms he made with his own two hands and then released into the world to become a force, and a terror, and perhaps very soon a power beyond any mortal’s control ever again.  Any real reverence Percy has for gods as more than ultra-powerful allies, to be courted and implored and bargained with, comes down to the power he sees in belief and religion and the things people do in their name.

Keyleth never wanted or expected to have anything to do with gods until they decided they wanted something to do with her and hers, and it’s freaking her out so bad.  Gods are people, to Keyleth, an there’s nothing sacred about divinity.  They have powers and they do things, and that’s all--and in this world of Exandria where gods walk and want and war between each other, and distribute curses and favor at their own whims, who’s to say she’s wrong?  A god is just a person with a whole lot of power, and she doesn’t understand reverence, and it scares her.  The idea of a being with that much power over her and her loved ones scares her, when there’s so much she doesn’t have power over already.  The idea that her family-friends-team doesn’t stand with her in that fear, that they’ll kneel and pray instead of standing themselves, that scares her so, so much.  Keyleth believes in what she sees and touches and experiences, sun and seasons and living people, and gods have no place in her world, but they keep inviting themselves in anyway and she doesn’t know how to block them back out.

Vax breaks my fucking heart.  We spend a lot of time in fandom talking about sex and love and BDSM-done-like-religion, but the only metaphor I’ve got is that Vax just straight-up does religion like BDSM--not the penance and self-flagellation and humiliation and punishment, but.  The submission.  The boy is so desperate for solid ground to stand on.  Long before the Raven Queen, he’s looking up at Sarenrae and praying and hoping for a gentle hand.  For someone to tell him what he’s meant to be doing with himself, with his time, with his life.  Someone to promise that he’s done right, someone he can trust to know all the things about the wild, terrible, chaotic world that he doesn’t.  He wants a god so badly, to help him be good, to make him good, to give him a purpose and a guide and a promise for tomorrow that he actually trusts, and he wanted it to be Sarenrae but it’s the Raven Queen now, and he’s given himself to her body and soul with all the hope and terror in his heart.  He didn’t want this master, but he wanted a master.  He’s living right on the push-pull edge of trapped vs secure.  Fear and faith and peace are combining into the resigned horror-hope of something that’s been rattling loose for so long now clicking unbreakably into place, and it’s delicious to watch.

I know Vex falls into company with Pelor eventually, and I am so very on edge to see it, to see what it means to her.  Vex doesn’t blink at gods, except to nod to Sarenrae in passing on Pike’s behalf, to reread the Raven Queen book a dozen times inside of a month on her brother’s, a bit of a nod to Pelor for the sake of Whitestone.  Vex spectates everybody else’s drama and meltdowns, for all she plays selfish and vain and pushy and gossip-hungry, and tries to help, and tries not to control, and tries, and tries.  Vex watches her brother and her friends and her someday-husband slip and trip and bruise themselves stumbling through life, and walks the line between keeping an eye on everything she can and keeping out of the way.  Vex hasn’t even looked at the gods for herself, not really, not yet.  I cannot fucking wait.

There’s Grog and Scanlan, who don’t seem to have any particular relationship to gods so far, and that’s real too, the down-to-earth contrast for everybody else’s drama, and even they’re not bereft of their own little interactions with the divine.  There’s the horror of Kashaw and Vesh, there’s Zarah and Lilith and their not-a-god moon patron, there’s Kerr the paladin of no-apparent-god-in-particular.  There’s Thorbir and Lyra and Gern who don’t appear to have gods at all.  There’s a million NPC’s and there’s Kima’s faith in Bahamut and Allura’s faith in her, and there’s the whole city of Vasselheim, and Whitestone’s once-desecrated temple to Pelor, and its temple to Arathis where people prayed for hope and began a rebellion, and its temple to Vecna deep below ground.  There’s the shrine to the Raven Queen in the Whitestone graveyard and the shrine to the soul of Westrun in an underground bunker, and people will find them and see them and react to them in their own ways for as long as they stand.  There are so many different angles!

(There’s Jester and her very best friend and the favors she does him in exchange for affection.  There’s Caduceus and his Mother and his fears and doubts in himself that never extend to doubting her.  There’s Fjord with a dead god’s half-divine offcast in the back of his head, scared enough that he’d make a new deal if he could find a god to back him.  There’s Yasha, who follows devotion and worship as a matter of gratitude and honor and not-like-she-has-anything-else-left-either.  There’s Caleb and Nott and Imperial state-sponsored religion that they grew up with and don’t even notice, not really; there’s Molly covering himself in the symbols of all those state-sanctioned gods entirely for display and then praying to Moonweaver in some chaotic mix of secret and sincerity and show; there’s Beau praying to Ioun without being told to for the very first time in her life, just in case.  There’s the Krynn and the Luxan and so much more to come.)

Fantasy-fiction doesn’t always get a lot of deep exploration of religion and faith and what it means to have actual gods, whose presence can be known and measured and felt, marked down as an objective fact of history.  I love that we’re legitimately getting that in these campaigns, and I love that we’re getting it in a D&D format, where it’s so different for each different character, and so valid for each and every one.  I can’t fucking wait to see the rest of Campaign 1.  I can’t wait to see where Campaign 2 goes next.

[amphtaminedreams]

We Voted for Murderers

65.2%.

That’s the percentage of people who voted for the Conservative candidate in my constituency, and I feel completely heartbroken. See, things have properly gone to shit. 

If we’re talking numbers?

Local councils estimate the number of people sleeping rough on any given night between 2010 and 2018 has risen from 1,768 to 4,677, a 165% increase. The Trussell Trust, the UK’s largest food bank charity, has reported a 5,146% increase in emergency food parcels being distributed since 2008. An 8% cut in spending per school pupil since 2009. Funding from central government to local government cut by 60% in that same period. £37 billion less spent on working-age social security compared to over a decade ago by 2020. A 90% fall in the number of social homes being built since 2010. A £7,300,000 decrease in funding for women’s shelters between 2011 and 2017. Don’t even get me started on the government’s treatment of the NHS.

I’ve heard stories of individuals applying for PIP due to mental illness being berated about suicide attempts and the likelihood of another as part of a “formal interview” process to see whether they qualify. People collapsing in job centre queues, freezing to death on the streets and the elderly in their homes, suicides whilst on never ending mental healthcare waiting lists. In fact, 17,000 sick and/or disabled individuals have died whilst waiting for PIP payments to come through, and in total, UCL researchers have linked 120,000 deaths to austerity (I’m not going to comment on the irony of my former university that’s notoriously lacklustre when it comes to giving a fuck about the wellbeing of its students publishing this unless...I just did?). 8 years of negligent homicide of the most vulnerable people in our society under the Conservative government and we voted them back in.

So I ask, are people really stupid enough to believe that the politicians responsible for this mess are the ones who are going to fix it just because they make a few characteristically empty promises on TV or does the British public at large really give even less of a fuck about other people than I thought? As in actually not give a fuck about people dying?

I have to tell myself it’s the former. The press’ treatment of Jeremy Corbyn and Labour was scathing. 

Corbyn, a man who has stood by the same principles of fairness, justice, and equality, for the entirety of his career, was criticised by the likes of The Sun, The Daily Mail, and The Telegraph, for being indecisive and a threat to this country whilst Boris Johnson, a man who can barely string a sentence together when he is asked to give a straight answer to something and blocked the release of a report covering Russian interference in British politics, was held up as the one people should put their faith in. 

I know, the press are never going to be completely neutral. But shouldn’t they at least be committed to integrity? And the truth? Isn’t that the WHOLE FUCKING POINT of journalism? I’ve been hearing the phrase “post-truth world” thrown around a lot and it’s probably an indication of my privilege that it was only with this election that I properly understood what that meant; it was found by the NGO First Draft just 2 days before the election, damage way past the point of done, that 88% of the Conservative Party’s Facebook ads (compared to 0% of Labour’s ads) contained misleading information. The repercussions were non-existent. After Boris Johnson’s claim that Jeremy Corbyn wanted to raise corporation and income tax to the highest levels in Europe was publicised, only Channel 4′s Factcheck website published the actual statistics (France, Belgium, Portugal and Greece all have much higher corporation tax rates than Labour’s proposal). Similarly, in many constituencies, the Lib Dems were posting fliers where Labour candidates were, in the previous election, the runner ups to the Conservative candidate, claiming that it was instead THEIR party’s candidate who had the highest chance of unseating the latter. Days before the election, the headline of one of Britain’s most highly circulated papers claimed that a Corbyn government would plunge us into a crisis the likes of which “we haven’t seen the Second World War”, which is kind of wild considering that 130,000 preventable deaths have been linked to austerity under the Conservative government compared to 70,000 civilian deaths in said war. Not that either is good, obviously, and I can’t believe I have to point that out. But then, right-wingers did paint Jeremy Corbyn as a monster for passing up watching the Queen’s Christmas Day speech to volunteer at a homeless shelter, so I thought I’d just cover my back, y’know. 

Shouldn’t there be standards that the media is held to? You know, like not making slanderous statements about some politicians that have no actual basis in fact whilst brushing over the statements of others. Whilst the PM’s father Stanley Johnson was on nation television calling the public illiterate, and Jacob Rees-Mogg was blaming the Grenfell victims deaths on their “lack of common sense”, and Michael Gove was stating that people who needed to use food banks had brought it on themselves because they were not “best able to manage their finances”, it was Jeremy Corbyn who was being called an enemy of the people, accused of trying to plunge us into a “Marxist hell”...I mean, if Denmark and Norway and Finland with some of the highest living standards in the world are “Marxist hell”s  then sure, that’s what he’s doing. But that’s a hell I’m sure a lot of people would find much comfier than a freezing cold pavement. Before Labour had even released their (fully-costed!) manifesto, barefaced lies were being published about how much it would cost and how it would plunge us into trillions of pounds worth of debt, as if it hasn’t increased from £1 trillion to £1.8 trillion in the years since David Cameron took office. Meanwhile, when Labour did publish their manifesto and the Financial Times published a letter signed by 163 prominent economists and academics backing their spending plans? Crickets. Nothing sums it up better than the debate around Jeremy Corbyn’s alleged anti-semitism, discussed ad-nauseam whilst Boris Johnson’s actual racism, islamophobia, misogyny and classism, RIGHT OUT OF THE HORSE’S MOUTH, was completely ignored by most news outlets. 

You know what, maybe people earning £85k just DON’T want to pay an extra £3 in tax a week to make sure children get an education. Maybe everybody IS just as selfish as that one twat on Question Time who got all red in the face over the prospect of having to give up an amount less than the cost of a tub of Ben and Jerrys a week. But if that’s true, this isn’t a country I want to live in at all, or a planet I want to live on, really. I hope it’s not. I hope it’s a case of a need for some kind of collective realisation that the Sun ain’t shit. Merseyside did it. The younger generation are catching on. And look at the results there.

Labour probably couldn’t fulfil ALL of their promises. No political party is perfect. I was told again and again how unrealistic those promises were as if that was enough to make me go ”oh...I guess I’ll vote for 4 more years of people dying in the streets instead”. Yes, in an ideal world, the entire manifesto would be made a reality, but it depended on far too many rich people being good and honest. Let’s be real-the elite will always find a way to avoid paying their fare share on the premise that they “earned it”, as if anybody earns billions by sheer hard work alone and past a certain point, not off other people’s backs. As if there aren’t nurses and teachers and firemen and other public sector workers who don’t put in just as much energy and as many hours and emotional labour as CEOs and business owners and investors. But the point is that Labour under Jeremy Corbyn acknowledged this, and their manifesto aimed to give the power back to the average person, from the vulnerable to the supposedly middle class still struggling to make ends meet, and give them the quality of life they deserve. It was built on the simple premise that the people should use their government, not the other way round, and that everybody deserves the basic human rights of shelter, nutrition, safety and dignity, regardless of their fortune in life. However many of Labour’s policies would actually have been fulfilled, it would’ve been a shift in the right direction. 

Now the election’s been and gone and I’m scared. Already, the narrative is being rewritten by the billionaires in control of this country that a manifesto like the one we saw this year will never sit right with this country, when it is what so many desperately need. The people putting this information out there know the truth: that Labour’s membership trebled in size under Corbyn (more people voted for him than for any Labour leader since Tony Blair), that most of the safe labour seats were lost because of Brexit, and that if the manifesto had been represented accurately, there’s a good chance that Boris Johnson would no longer be our Prime Minister. I’m scared a person like Jeremy Corbyn will never front Labour again. 

Because I do not want a tory painted red who’s friends with Jacob Rees-Mogg behind the scenes, I do not want a war criminal who thinks that bombing innocent people is ever acceptable, I do not want a person who doesn’t see people of colour as part of the working class and indulges in the occasional bit of TERF-ism.

Already, the Conservative party are backpedaling on the few promises they made to increase NHS spending, and I am scared. I am scared for myself, in the event that I need urgent mental health care again, and I am scared for those less privileged than me who don’t have a family to support them, who don't have a roof over their head, who weren’t fortunate enough to be born in a country with relative economic and political stability, who cannot physically go out and work to earn a living. I am worried about the bigots that this election has already emboldened, the Katie Hopkins and the Tommy Robinsons of the world, who think the things that blind luck have graced them with they somehow earned, who pride themselves on ignorance and cruelty and selfishness.

So for now, what can we do? 

Join trade unions. Organise. Write to your MPs. Bring attention to those who are vulnerable. Be vocal with your criticism of the establishment. Call out those in politics for an ego-trip hiding behind “personality”. Do your research. Keep an eye on the numbers. The “it doesn’t matter who you vote for, just vote” sentiment is old, because it does. No “as a feminist, I exercise my right to vote for whoever I want”, because as a feminist, you should care about ALL women, not just the white, middle class, able-bodied ones. 

And if anyone has any more suggestions, let me know. Because I am sick and tired of living under a government who doesn’t give a fuck about the people it’s supposed to protect.

Lauren x

[DISCLAIMER: The photo is not mine. Just devastated and trying to find the words to express it.]