#No Context Crow No. 15

[corvidsofthedeep]

No Context Crow #15: Judgement Crow

Found here.

[inkskinned]

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

[totallyboatless]

Truly surprised anytime i see someone upset that Jesper and Wylan don’t have a slow-burn in the show. I’m realizing this is a hot take, but I want more fast-burns. “Will they/won’t they” can be great, but it has to match characterization, and aging up the Crows would absolutely change how Jesper and Wylan get together.

Kaz and Inej make sense to slow-burn — they both have some level of touch aversion, extreme trust issues, and “I’m an island i don’t need anyone” syndrome.

But Jesper and Wylan? Jesper is fully sexually active in both the books and the show, but being sexually active in your 20s is vastly different than as a teenager. He knows what he likes and goes for it and has been doing that for years. Wylan is only like 15 in the books and super inexperienced - but he’s always had that secretly-confident, slightly-unhinged streak. In this alternate universe, he’s had an extra almost-decade for those traits to grow before meeting the Crows — he knows *so* much more about himself.

Wylan isn’t shy, he’s reserved. There’s a difference — it’s not a lack of confidence, his confidence is just quiet. Wylan hits me so hard as a relatable queer character because he plays the game of gently feeling out interest - when we meet him he’s sussing out if Jesper is still interested, and I imagine when they first met he did the “i’m going to signal to you i’m queer and hope you signal back” dance that happens when you’re trying to figure out if hitting on someone in a queer context will be received well or not.

But as soon as Wylan gets the go-ahead that Jesper is interested, he’s all confidence. He was just waiting for the explicit permission to go for it. Both times in the show when we see Jesper and Wylan start to get hot and heavy, Wylan is the one who initiates.

So in the show we have two sexually active adults who are attracted to each other, who aren’t afraid to go for what they want once they get a positive social queue, and who live in a super dangerous place with a “live fast, die young” mentality. Anything other than them jumping each other the first night they met wouldn’t make sense.

And then we get to see the meat of their relationship! The conflict isn’t “tension bc they want to bone” the conflict is “they need to learn to communicate and be on the same page and figure out if they can make this work” which imo is infinitely more interesting for these two characters.

[theharddeck]

your love is the love I need || chapter 1/4

pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross

summary: Cross and Javy are very good friends. Javy might've let it slip to his mother that they're more. A little fake dating never hurt anyone, right?

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – no smut in this chapter (there defs will be in later chapters, and I never want someone to be caught off guard) but there is an attempted roofie-ing in this chapter.

length: 6.2k

A/N: literally the biggest shoutout in the WORLD to @daggerspare-standingbystandingby for talking me off a ledge, and also line editing, and also depth. @bradshawsbitch and @laracrofted thank you for always brainstorming with me 💙

Saturday

“Cross, get in here; I need a stand-in.”

You’d been looking for a glass for your cherry coke in cabinets at the Miramar Family Center, but at Hangman’s call, you grabbed a straw and jogged back over to the pool table. Bob folded a napkin and slid it across the table as you got closer and you smiled at him gratefully before setting the sweating can down on it.

“Tapping out already, Hangman?” Phoenix asked from across the table, where she was wiping chalk over the end of her pool cue. 

���You and Avalone wish,” Jake drawled, smiling wanly at the group. “Nah, I’ve got to pick something up; I’ll be right back.”

He tossed his pool cue at you without looking and you considered letting it clatter to the ground, but you grabbed it out of the air, trying not to read into the gesture too much. 

You were a recent addition to the squad; when Fanboy had decided he wanted to try piloting again, they’d needed a WSO to fly with Payback. Having only been a teammate for a couple months, you were still finding your footing with the group. Everyone had been welcoming, of course, but there were times that you felt the little idioms and questions were a type of test. Tests that you were determined to pass, not just for the sake of assimilation, but because this was a team you were genuinely proud to be a part of, and you wanted them to know it. 

“Am I solid or stripes?” you asked, looking down at the table, confused by the seeming lack of structure on the felt.

“We’re playing cutthroat,” Payback said, looking after Hangman with a grimace, for not giving you any context.

“We’re 11-15,” Coyote said, because of course he and Jake had been a team. He swiped the chalk that Phoenix had been using, and as he dropped it into your palm, his fingertips brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, it was just an accidental brush, but your skin prickled anyway, and you looked away quickly.

“1-5,” Phoenix cut in, pointing between her and Fritz. 

“6-10,” Payback finished, lifting a fist in Bob’s direction, as the WSO held up a clenched hand obediently.

“Cool,” you said, deciding if you wanted to take on the pilot who held your life in his hands any time you got in the back of an F/A-18, or Phoenix. 

Which, honestly, wasn’t even a question.

You surveyed the felt once more, before seeing a clear shot for the 9 ball, walking around the table to take it, and shooting Bob an apologetic look as the ball clattered into the pocket.

“I knew I liked you,” Natasha cooed.

“Yeah, I don’t know why we bother,” Payback sighed to Bob, who shrugged, both of them good-naturedly.

“Atta girl,” Coyote crowed, and Phoenix nodded approvingly and you grinned at her, rather than risk looking at him. Not with the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his completely platonic praise. You were on the same team, it was nothing more than that, and now was so not the time for your relentless crush to make an appearance.

Pool wasn’t really your game, and you weren’t at all surprised when you botched the next shot, flustered by the nearly six feet of Abercrombie model at your shoulder. You backed away from the table as Billy stepped up, apparently next in order. 

You swiped your soda from the table by Bob, crossing the room to perch on the side of a sofa and wait for your turn again, or Jake’s reappearance, whichever came first. 

Your eyes flitted over to Javy, as they always seemed to, when you weren’t actively trying not to. It wasn’t your fault he was magnetic. 

All easy smiles and broad shoulders, deep protectiveness and unabashed confidence, just as good as Hangman and Rooster and Phoenix, less likely to call attention to it. The way he’d look deep at whoever was talking to him, nodding along as he gave them his full attention. 

At present, that person was Phoenix, and Javy’s shoulders dipped as he hunched his back slightly, to get closer and hear her better. You played with the end of your pool stick, watching as their heads tilted together, quietly commenting on the table as Fritz lined up a shot.

“It’s a statistical impossibility, right?” Halo whispered, appearing next to you on the couch. “For them to be that pretty and that good of pilots?”

You followed her gaze to the trio around the table and shook your head, agreeing. 

“The worst part of it,” you mumbled back, “is that they have the audacity to be decent people, so we can’t even do the easy thing and dislike them for being perfect.”

Halo clicked her tongue against her teeth, fiddling with the plastic cap of a water bottle. 

“That’s why they need us,” she mused. “You, me, and Bob: subverting expectations as gorgeous backseaters.”

You snorted, before Callie’s words registered, and you looked over at her, your voice teasing when you asked, “Bob, huh?”

She shrugged lightly, even as a pretty flush bloomed on her cheeks.

“Completely impartially, of course,” she said, sheepishly. You smiled reassuringly, bumping her shoulder with yours, and she tilted her head as she looked back at the table. 

“How’s that view from your glass house?” she asked, sweetly, making you nearly choke on your soda when you saw she was looking pointedly at Coyote. 

“Is it that obvious?” you asked.

“I mean, it was a guess, but that just confirmed it,” Callie smiled broadly, before sighing again. “I think crushes on other pilots is the particular curse of Wizzos—we know better, but we think we’re smart enough to get around it.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you muttered, bumping your soda can into her water bottle, memory taking you back a couple months to a night just like this one. 

It was your first day in San Diego; you’d caught an early flight and were able to move into your off-base apartment and walk around North Island for a bit, exploring before you’d meet your detachment the following morning. As the sun sank over the Pacific, you walked along the beach, enjoying the warm sand and cooling air. You could hear a piano in the distance, something you assumed was the effect of a bluetooth speaker until you realized it came from a bar a little farther down the beach, and you redirected your footsteps towards it. 

The Hard Deck smelled like sweat and good beer, and you clocked a couple different types of badges as you scanned the room. There was a good chance someone here would recognize you tomorrow, so you asked for a coke from the older man behind the bar, settling on a stool and looking around.

There was a man with a mustache and aviators (Indoors. At night.) at the piano, his head cocked back as he worked through the greatest hits of the 60s. Beside him, a stunning woman in a tight bun stood shoulder-to-shoulder with an impossibly tall man, also with a mustache, both of them singing along enthusiastically. A pool table was nearby, a couple more uniforms draped across it, and two men were playing darts against the wall closest to you.

Well, one of them was playing darts. 

The blond man was clearly in his element, sinking bullseye after bullseye, and the man beside him seemed content enough to let him play it out. It wasn’t so much a competition, as it was one man showboating, and his friend humoring him.

The louder of the two was making jokes about his odds, calling shots before he took them, and every now and then his partner would quietly say something that would make his shoulders laugh enough to miss his shot. Their conversation faded into the noise of the bar as you turned on your stool, looking around you. When you came back to the bartop, you noticed a man sidling up to a younger girl a couple stools down from you. 

She was rebuffing him as gently as she could, and he seemed to be taking it pretty well—until she turned to chat with someone over her shoulder, and he dropped something in her drink while she was preoccupied. 

Your jaw dropped; that’d been clear as day. But the bar was crowded, and she’d been distracted by her friends, and your heart lurched when she reached back for her drink without paying attention. 

“Hey, wait!” you called down the bar, and she turned to look at you. Along with the half of the bar, you assumed, but you slid off the seat rather than check and see how much of an audience you had. The girl frowned at you, an unfamiliar face yelling at her, but whatever she saw in your expression held her attention for the moment it took you to get down to her. 

“Sorry,” you said, quietly as you could, when you got closer to her. “I didn’t want to make a scene, but he definitely put something in your drink.”

“Oh my gosh,” the girl set the drink down on the bar, glaring at the man. “What the hell, you creep!!”

“I didn’t—,” the man’s face flushed, and he looked angrily at you before at the people around him, placatingly. “Hold on, you can’t just go around accusing—”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true,” you said, turning to the bartender. “Are you the owner?”

He shook his head, looking over your shoulder at some of the other patrons, then set down the tap he was pouring. “I’ll get Penny.”

“Now, hang on Jimmy,” the creep sputtered. “I-I didn’t do anything, you can’t prove I—”

“Drink it, then.”

Everyone turned at the deep voice, as someone else stepped towards the bar. You recognized one of the men from the dartboard, the quiet one, and he crossed his arms as he came up behind you. 

The creep’s expression paled as he took in the tall frame of the pilot behind you. “I mean, it’s her drink, I’m not–”

The girl slid her drink down the bartop, in front of the man. “Go on.”

A door slammed in the back of the bar and a moment later, a slim brunette woman let herself behind the counter. She stalked behind the bar, looking sharply at you. 

“You saw it?” she asked.

You nodded, and her jaw ticked. She planted her hands on the bar, looking the creep clearly in the face, like she was memorizing it, before she covered the drink with saran wrap and handed it behind her to Jimmy. 

“You’re gonna wait in my office until the police get here,” she told the man, her voice level. “And when you leave with them, you will not set foot in this bar again. Understood?”

“Police?” the man echoed, his eyes going wide. “Hold on, this is all getting blown out of proportion, all I did was—”

Penny jerked her head to the side, and you felt a hand on your shoulder for a moment as the quiet pilot brushed by you to reach for the creep. The blond man was with him, suddenly, and they unceremoniously hauled the creep away from the bar.

Penny pursed her lips together, looking meaningfully over at the piano, and a moment later, some Elvis song was playing through the bar. Penny checked in with the girl, pulled some receipt paper out of the printer and had her write down her contact information, in case the police wanted to follow up with her. She waved you down as well, and you came over. 

“Don’t think we’ve met before,” she said brusquely, holding a hand across the bar. “I’m Penny.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, shaking her extended hand and giving her your name. “You handled that really well.”

Her jaw clenched again, as she shook her head. “Hate that I have to handle it at all. Thanks for saying something; what’re you drinking tonight? It’s on the house.”

“Oh, thanks,” you shook your head, pointing to your abandoned coke, “but I’m not drinking; I have an early day tomorrow.”

Penny hummed, looking you over. You had the uncanny feeling that, even without your uniform, she somehow knew you were Navy, which detachment you were in, and—given another minute or two—she could guess your callsign. 

“Better get your information too,” she said, sliding the receipt paper down the bar, “in case they want a statement from you. Include your CO; I can probably put a good word in edgewise.”

You scribbled your information down, wondering what ties she had to the Navy, but not doubting for a moment that they were strong. Her mouth twitched as she read over what you’d written, blooming into a full smile as she looked up at you.  

“Well, that’ll be easier than I thought,” she said, almost to herself, before walking over to the tap to pour you another coke. “So, what brings you to North Island?”

You chatted with her until the police came and she excused herself to go deal with them. You were finishing your coke when you realized the two pilots were back by the dartboard, the blond one having sunk three bullseyes and performing what appeared to be a victory shimmy.  

He looked like a Ken doll, like someone had manufactured him in a Mattel factory, then turned him to life and told him he could do anything a real boy could do. 

You laughed to yourself at his antics, and watched while the quiet one collected the darts and took his stance for his turn. His first dart landed on double 16—solid, except it couldn’t beat 3 bullseyes.

You’d wanted to thank him for helping out before Penny got there, and this was as good a chance as any, so you hopped off the barstool and crossed towards the darts wall.

“Hey,” you said, inelegant but effective, appearing behind the two of them, turning to look at you in surprise. “May I?”

The blond man made a sound in the back of his throat like he was both shocked and thrilled by your presence, and he nodded like of course you could butt in. You looked over at the quieter one, trying to pretend he wasn’t the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life. 

They’d both looked great from a distance, but up close, he was somehow even prettier, and as you looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. It was like he liked the weight of your eyes, which was terribly flattering, and you found yourself wanting to smile back. You looked away quickly, back to Ken Doll, thinking about the accent you’d heard in his bragging earlier. 

“Texas?” you asked, to distract yourself.

He raised an eyebrow. “Six generations back.”

You hummed, before holding out a hand to the quiet one. 

“The lady will shoot for her own hand,” Ken Doll said, like he was quoting something, a laugh in his voice as you felt two darts drop into your palm. 

“Pick that up from Medieval Times?” you asked.

“Brave, actually,” he muttered, before smiling sheepishly, “my sister’s kids love that movie.” 

“What do they call you?” you asked, turning the darts over in your hands. It was a guess, but the way his eyebrows raised slightly when he registered the cadence of your question confirmed you were right.

“Hangman,” he said, lifting his chin over your shoulder. “That’s Coyote.”

You looked over at him. “Hey.”

He smiled, slow and easy, and you looked away before you messed up your shot. You focused, let it go, and Coyote whistled. 

“Triple 20,” he said.

“Triple 20,” you agreed, looking back at Hangman. “Want to see it again?”

Hangman’s eyes narrowed as he did the quick mental math, and beside you, Coyote crossed his arms across his chest, laughing quietly. It was a warm sound, and tempted though you were to turn and see it, you let go of the last dart and watched as it landed next to your first. 

“Look at that; Coyote wins,” you wiped your hands on your jeans, smiling at a shocked Hangman.

“Damn,” he said quietly, then grinned. “I like you; you can stay.”

You snorted as he strolled lazily across to the board to pull out the darts, before you turned to look at Coyote, who was watching you already. He had deep brown eyes, eyes that looked kind, like they laughed easy, like they didn’t miss much. 

“Anyways,” you said, apropos of nothing, clearing your throat. “I came over here to say thanks for backing me up at the bar.”

Something like surprise flashed across his face before he could stop it. He shrugged like anyone would’ve done it, like it was nothing special to believe women, to support a stranger the same way he’d supported his friend all evening, and in that moment—before he knew who you were, before you knew his actual name, before you’d spoken more than a dozen words to the man—you fell hard for Javy Machado. 

“Bob, you’re killing me,” Payback groaned, and you jerked out of the memory. Apparently, Fritz’s turn was done, Bob biffed it, and Phoenix lifted her hand in an “after you” gesture as Coyote stepped up to the table. 

He walked slowly, and you tried to be impartial like Callie’d said, but it was damn hard when his shoulders filled out his khakis like that. He walked a slow circle, frowning at the spread and you shifted the pool cue in your own hands, telling yourself to stop staring and continuing to do just that.

“Duckie,” a soft voice called across the room, “if you don’t take the shot already, we’re going to be here all night.” 

Javy dropped the pool cue with a clatter, turning to find the voice. You spotted Jake the same time everybody else did, his chest puffed out proudly as he escorted an older woman on his arm. She wore warm gray senegalese twists, dangling turquoise earrings and a wide smile you’d recognize anywhere.

“Momma?” Javy asked softly, then a grin split his face as he sprinted across the room. His mother opened her arms as Javy rushed into them, carefully bending his tall frame to enfold her, before straightening and spinning her around. Their laughter echoed around the room and a couple claps of applause went up. 

Jake slapped a hand on Javy’s back as he stepped around them, walking over to the pool table to give them a minute together. Phoenix smiled lightly at him, a soft thing that you doubted any of you were meant to see, before she cleared her throat, looking back at you.

“See, this is why we put up with him being an asshole as much as he is,” she told you, shaking her head at Jake. “He’ll leave you out as bait if it gets him a shot at a bandit, but he’ll remember your mother’s birthday, burn his visitor passes, and fly her across the country to surprise you.”

“Take it easy, Nat,” Jake said lightly, resting his knuckles on the pool table and surveying the game’s progress since he’d stepped away. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Phoenix shook her head before lining up her next shot, and Jake pushed away from the table to come stand next to where you and Halo were seated on the couch.

You bumped his shoulder with yours as you both looked back across the center, where Javy and his mom were walking arm-and-arm towards your group.

“That was awful sweet of you,” you told him quietly, not wanting to “ruin his reputation” as he put it. 

“The fact that you don’t sound surprised means Phoenix’s lies are taking root,” Jake muttered, but you heard the pride in his voice; he was pleased with himself for pulling this off.

You looked away from the pair over to Jake, who held out a hand for you to hand him his pool cue. You passed it to him, tipping your head, holding onto the other end of it.

“So there was absolutely no altruism involved in reuniting your best friend with his mom?”

“You wound me, Cross,” Jake said drily, but he lifted his chin at Javy’s mother, who was smiling broadly up at her son, her eyes shining as she patted at his uniform proudly. “Give it a sec; let’s see if it pays off.”  

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you felt your expression turn soft at the clear fondness between Javy and his mother; somehow you always knew he’d be a momma’s boy. Her neck was craned at a sharp angle to look up at him, but both of their smiles were wide as they broke into the group. 

“Guys,” Javy said, his voice nearly giddy, “this is my mom. Momma, this is the group. We’ve got Payback, Bob, Phoenix, Fritz—I guess you already know Jake—Halo, and Cross.”

You all smiled and waved as Javy pointed you out to his mother, and her kind eyes followed Javy’s hand around the circle. You thought you might’ve imagined they lingered a little longer on you, but then her smile grew wider as she looked back at Javy. She elbowed him, then looked back at you.

“Now, Javy,” she chided gently, “I know that’s not how you introduce me to your girlfriend.”

The group stilled, and Jake pulled in a deep breath through his nose, his own smile turning decidedly smug as he pushed away from you, taking the cue with him. 

“And there’s your answer, Cross,” he said out of the side of his mouth, going over to the pool table and lining up a shot.

You wet your lips as your eyes darted from Mrs Machado up to Javy. 

His expression was a strange mix of shocked, mortified, and pleading, and you weren’t sure what Jake had done to land the both of you in this predicament, but you knew you weren’t about to spoil this reunion for Javy.

“Mrs. Machado,” you smiled, pushing away from the couch to come and hug her. “I’m so excited to get to meet you.”

Of course, she hugged like an angel. 

She was just a little shorter than you, and she held you like you were something precious she was excited to have in her arms. When you pulled back, her hands settled on your elbows and she beamed up at you. 

“Oh, aren’t you just the loveliest,” she smiled, and her voice sounded like the happiest thing. “You know, I told him, I did, when he started talking about the newest wiz—oh, what is that abbreviation?”

“WSO,” the group chorused.

“WSO,” Mrs. Machado nodded, grateful for the prompt. “Yes, well, when he started talking about you, I asked him if you were a nice young lady, and he insisted that you were just friends, but I just knew, you kept coming up in conversation and, well, I knew it was something more. And then sweet Jacob…”

She broke off to smile kindly at Hangman, and when you looked over your shoulder, Callie and Natasha had cornered him threateningly, but he looked too smug to be intimidated. Under Mrs. Machado’s eyes, they smiled charmingly, but their stance didn’t change. You appreciated them coming to your defense, but it did make you wonder how many people seemed to know about your crush.

“Yeah, sweet Jacob,” Payback deadpanned from the other side of the table, before assuming his role as Resident Adult of the squad. “Mrs. Machado, can we get you something to drink? I know lines at the base access point can be awful, maybe a glass of water?”

“Oh!” Mrs. Machado looked between Reuben and the kitchen, then at you. You smiled reassuringly, pulling your arms free from her. 

“I’ll be here,” you said, then reached over without looking, turning away. “Hey, Jay, can I have a word?”

“Yep, figured,” Javy muttered, as your hand closed on the lapel of his khakis, pulling him after you. 

“You both are doing my push ups after the next of Mav’s drills,” Payback hissed under his breath as your paths crossed.

“Done,” you said quickly.

“For sure,” Javy said, stumbling slightly as he tried to follow your shorter stride as you pulled him to a corner of the Family Center. You figured the group would be watching you so you turned your back to them, pulling Javy to stand in front of you.

“Wait, you’re his backseater,��� Javy smoothed down his lapel, frowning over your shoulder in Reuben’s direction. “If he’s doing them, you are too, and 400 pushups isn’t—”

“You’ve got, like, 15 seconds to tell me why your mom thinks I’m your girlfriend.”

You probably could’ve handled it with more finesse, or at least not interrupted him. 

Javy’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous, but there’s no way that was real, so you just waited on his explanation. 

“Okay, so she means well, my mom, but every time we talked, she’d be asking about if I’d met a nice girl, or telling me how one of her friends had a kid in town, that I should meet up with or—”

“15 seconds,” you reiterated, trusting in Reuben’s vamping ability, but the man was only mortal. 

“Right,” Javy swallowed. “Uh, so it’s just…one day she was just going on and on, and I said I’d asked someone out, and she wanted to know who and you were the first person I thought of.”

You blinked.

“Not like that, not like I’d planned on asking you out or something,” Javy rushed to say, which shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but damn. He must’ve realized how that sounded, too, because he winced. “I mean, not like that, it was just the easiest lie that she’d believe and she was never supposed to be here and meet you and—”

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him. “How do you think this is going?”

“Yeah, not great,” Javy mumbled, his hand falling to his side.

“Awesome,” you muttered. “So now that we’ve established how it’s just a matter of me being the easiest lie, you didn’t want her to meet me, and you wouldn’t actually ask me out—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Javy said stubbornly, even though it was what he’d just said. He looked frustrated, and you couldn’t tell if it was towards your reaction or something else but when he opened his mouth, the words got stuck, because he just sighed.

Javy drew in a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. You knew when his eyes landed on his mom, because his whole face softened, and his shoulders drooped slightly. 

“Tell me this,” you said, weighing your words carefully, “is this for her or for you?”

“For her,” he said, with conviction, and when he looked back at you, your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes. It was honest and deep, something selfless and that scared him too, and you believed him. 

“She gets worried about me,” he explained. “What she and my dad have is special…when me or my siblings don’t have that, she gets worried. Like, it’s something she prays for. I know she’s proud of me and my career and all that, but I think a part of her will always think something’s missing, unless I’m with someone.”

You looked over your shoulder to find Mrs. Machado in the kitchen, smiling happily at Rueben as he made her some tea. She had this aura of comfort around her, that of being loved and known, and wanting it for everyone around her. It wasn’t an energy you were super familiar with, but you could understand that it would be heavy for someone like Javy to bear.

And this was a terrible idea—you were gonna embarrass yourself at the least, potentially break your own heart at the worst—but you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, how do we do this?”

Javy’s eyes closed for a moment in relief, and for a second you thought he was going to reach for you, but then he held himself steady, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

You nodded, already regretting this, knowing if you could do it again, you’d choose the same result, every time.

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing at your temples briefly before looking back up at him. “Um, I guess, how much do you want me around? I’m sure you guys want time for just the two of you.”

Javy seemed to think it over. “I’ll probably take her to dinner tonight—she’ll invite you, but I think we can get you out of it. If…do you want to do breakfast tomorrow?”

Somewhere a trickster god was chortling, thrilled by Javy asking a question you’d never expected to hear, and in an entirely different context.

“I can do breakfast,” you said. 

“Great,” Javy said, a full smile growing. “God, thank you. Great.” 

And somewhere that same trickster god rolled their eyes, because you were a simpleton who’d do any number of ridiculous things to see that smile again. 

Javy squeezed your shoulder lightly, moving to go around you before stopping himself and stepping back.  

“You’ve never called me ‘Jay’ before,” he said, his expression curious.

And you hadn’t, never aloud. But in your texts to your girlfriends back home, you referred to him by his initial, just in case someone ever stole your phone.

“Yeah, well," you deferred, "Duckie was taken, so…”

Javy’s nose wrinkled as he tried not to laugh, and there it was, that smile again.  

“I had a stuffed duck, when I was a kid,” he explained. “Took it everywhere with me, like some kids have their blankets…Momma always told me she loved me like I loved that duck, and it kind of stuck.”

“That’s adorable,” you said, honest. 

Javy waved a hand, like it wasn’t anything, and then he looked back at you.

“I like it,” he said, something different in his voice. “Jay.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you pressed your lips together and shrugged. Javy looked at you for a moment, then he tilted his head towards the group. You turned with him, following him back to the group, telling yourself it was going to be fine. 

Of course, that was until Mrs. Machado insisted that they drive you home. 

Thankfully, you were able to convince her to take the passenger seat, so as Mrs. Machado and Javy talked quietly, the soft music on the speakers kept their conversation from reaching you in the backseat. You leaned your head against the glass of the window, trying to recall the cross streets from memory, rather than think too hard about any part of tonight. The car was in park for a minute before you realized it was idling in front of your apartment. 

“Oh, sorry,” you said quickly, sliding off your seatbelt and leaning forward to brush Mrs. Machado’s shoulder lightly, “it was so great to meet you. Thanks for driving me home.”

“Of course,” she beamed over her shoulder at you, reaching back to catch your hand in hers, and squeezing. “I’m so glad we’ll get to visit more tomorrow.”

You smiled back, then let go of her, sliding down to the seat to the door. As you unfolded yourself out of the backseat, Javy’s hand appeared on the car door, holding it open for you as you climbed out. He shut it behind you, walking beside you towards the door of your apartment. 

You looked up at him out of the side of your eye. 

People shouldn’t be pretty from this angle but he was. The moonlight seemed to highlight his long lashes, and the soft shadow they cast over his face.  

“You don’t have to walk me,” you said under your breath, once you were out of hearing range of the car. 

“Nah,” Javy said, his voice lower rather than quieter. “Momma knows I’d walk my girl to the door.”

It wasn’t a long walk up the driveway, but you seemed aware of every step. Or maybe the world just froze when Javy said my girl. 

You glanced over at him again, admiring the way he looked perfectly at ease, his hands tucked into his pockets, steps slow to match your pace. You thought about how sweet his mother was, how excited she’d been at the prospect of spending time with you tomorrow. She was probably watching from the car now, and it did somewhat soothe the guilt in your chest, knowing that someone else had set a precedent for her, and she wouldn’t be too disappointed when her son calmly told her you had broken up.

“That’s good that she’s met others,” you said, climbing the first step to your porch, “it’s less intimidating to know I just have to be an average.”

Javy made a soft sound, something between a hum and an exhale, shoulders rising slightly in a shrug. “Actually, you’re the first since the Academy.”   

You stopped on the step, turning to find Javy watching you closely. With the added height, the two of you were almost eye level, and your stomach flipped. His brown eyes seemed to glitter, something soft like starlight in them.

“But you said…” you trailed off, realizing Javy had said it was how he would be, not how he’d been. “Literally how is that possible?” 

Javy smiled easily, looking back at the car, then back at you as he lifted his chin. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You smiled back, you couldn’t not, even as you shook your head, despite the heat crawling up your neck because you didn’t realize you’d said that out loud. He was too bright to leave you unaffected, so you stood there on the step, smiling like a fool at a man who somehow had no idea how much of a marvel he was.

Which is when you realized you were staring again.

“Well,” you said, looking away, taking another step up the porch, “thanks again for the ride home. And walking me up here, and I guess…I’m gonna go inside.”

“Oh,” Javy said it quietly, like he hadn’t meant to, like you’d surprised him. He nodded, and you waited for him to say something else, as he looked over his shoulder at the car, but then his easy smile was back again. “Yeah, no worries. Actually, thank you, right?”

You were pretty sure the moonlight was playing tricks on you. 

Because there was something in Javy’s expression that you hadn’t seen before, something that looked like uncertainty, something almost like wondering. The extra step put you almost taller than him, your faces closer than you’d expected. Javy blinked slowly, his gaze darting down to your mouth before he stepped back a half pace, like he’d remembered something. 

It had to be the moonlight, or you were seeing things.

But you were the first person that’d come to mind when he’d needed a lie, and that had to count for something, right, and he’d looked for a moment like he was trying to think of a reason to keep you on the porch.

You reached for him, your fingers curling around the back of his neck and the slightest pull was enough for him to take back that half step, then more, closer, which was enough for you to know it wasn’t just the moon, and you kissed him.

Or you meant to.

The moment your lips brushed against his, Javy’s hands were on your waist, his long fingers spreading across your lower back, his body heat seemingly burning through the thin fabric of your shirt, like he needed to hold onto you. And then you weren’t kissing him, because he was kissing you, something that you couldn’t quite believe was happening. It was slow and soft and absolutely devastating, as unrealistically perfect as only Javy could be.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had happened.

Javy’s lips lifted from yours, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back entirely. Still two steps down, you liked how he looked, looking up at you.

“I’ll wait till you get inside,” Javy asked softly, his voice like velvet, and you nodded, very uncertain if you could find words. You rested a hand on his shoulder to lean down to wave at the car, and Mrs. Machado, who was practically beaming back at you, before letting go and walking up to unlock the door. You let yourself in, turning just inside the frame to find Javy still watching you.

“Night, Jay,” you said. 

Javy’s lips parted at the nickname, then he smiled at you, bright as the noonday sun. 

“Night, Cross,” he said. His hands were in his pockets and he took a step back from you, waiting for you to shut the door. You did, leaning your back up against it, and waited for the sounds of the car starting and them driving away. 

Now, what the hell had that been about? And, more importantly, how were you supposed to survive tomorrow?

//

next chapter

taglist: @peakyrogers @mxgyver @princessphilly @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @roosterforme @blowmymbackout @datemephoenix @fuckyeahhangman @lt-bradshaw @double-j @callsignvalley @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @rosiahills22 @andrewrussgarfield @teacupsandtopgun i don't have a coyote list yet bc this is my first writing for him, so if any of you folks would like to be not included, please do let me know!

[keelanrosa]

started reading the cass review because i'm apparently just Like That and i want everybody crowing about how this proves sooooo much about how terfs are right and trans people are wrong to like. take a scientific literacy class or something. or even just read the occasional study besides the one you're currently trying to prove a point with. not even necessarily pro-trans studies just learn how to know what studies actually found as opposed to what people trying to spoonfeed you an agenda claim they found.

to use just one infuriating example:

Several studies from that period (Green et al., 1987; Zucker, 1985) suggested that in a minority (approximately 15%) of pre-pubertal children presenting with gender incongruence, this persisted into adulthood. The majority of these children became same-sex attracted, cisgender adults. These early studies were criticised on the basis that not all the children had a formal diagnosis of gender incongruence or gender dysphoria, but a review of the literature (Ristori & Steensma, 2016) noted that later studies (Drummond et al., 2008; Steensma & Cohen-Kettenis, 2015; Wallien et al., 2008) also found persistence rates of 10-33% in cohorts who had met formal diagnostic criteria at initial assessment, and had longer follow-up periods.

if you recognize the names Zucker and Steensma you are probably already going feral but tldr:

There are… many problems with Zucker's studies, "not all children had a formal diagnosis" is so far down the list this is literally the first i've heard of it. The closest i usually hear is the old DSM criteria for gender identity disorder was totally different from the current DSM criteria for gender dysphoria and/or how most people currently define "transgender"; notably it did not require the patient to identify as a different gender and overall better fits what we currently call "gender-non-comforming". Whether the kids had a formal diagnosis of "maybe trans, maybe just has different hobbies than expected, but either way their parents want them back in their neat little societal boxes" is absolutely not the main issue. This would be a problem even if Zucker was pro-trans (spoiler: He Is Not, and people who are immediately suspicious of pro-trans studies because "they're probably funded by big pharma or someone else who profits from transitioning" should apply at least a little of that suspicion to the guy who made a living running a conversion clinic); sometimes "formal" criteria change as we learn more about what's common, what's uncommon, what's uncommon but irrelevant, etc, and when the criteria changes drastically enough it doesn't make sense to pretend the old studies perfectly apply to the new criteria. If you found a study defining "sex" specifically and exclusively as penetration with a dick which says gay men have as much sex as straight men but lesbians don't, it's not necessarily wrong as far as it goes but if THAT'S your prime citation for "gay men have more sex than lesbians", especially if you keep trying to apply it in contexts which obviously use a broader definition, there are gonna be a lot of people disagreeing with you and it won't be because they're stubbornly unscientific.

Also Zucker is pro conversion therapy. Yes, pro converting trans people to cis people, but also pro converting gay people to straight people. That doesn't necessarily affect his results, i just find it funny how many people enthusiastically support his findings as evidence transitioning is… basically anti-gay conversion therapy? (even though plenty of trans people transition to gay? including T4T people so even the "that's actually just how straight people try to get with gay people" rationale for gay trans people is incredibly weak? and also HRT has a relatively low but non-zero chance of changing sexual orientation so it wouldn't even be reliable as a means of "becoming straight"? but a guy who couldn't reliably tell the difference between a tomboy and a trans boy figured out the former is more common than the latter + in one whole country where being trans is legal but being gay is not, sometimes cis gay people transition, so OBVIOUSLY that means sexism and homophobia are the driving factors even in countries with significant transphobia. or something.) anyway i hope zucker knows and hates how many gay people and allies are using his own study to trash-talk any attempts to be Less Gay. ideally nobody would take his nonsense seriously at all but it doesn't seem we'll be spared from that any time soon so i will take my schadenfreude where i can.

Steensma's studies have the exact same problem re: irrelevant criteria so "well someone ELSE had the same results!" is not exactly convincing. This is not "oh trans people are refusing to pay attention to these studies because they disagree with them regardless of scientific rigor", it's "one biased guy using outdated criteria found exactly the numbers everyone would expect based on that criteria, i can't imagine why trans people are treating those numbers as relevant to the past criteria but not present definitions, let's find a SECOND guy using outdated criteria. Why do people keep saying the outdated criteria is not relevant to the current state of trans healthcare. Don't we all know it's quantity over quality with scientific studies. (Please don't ask what the quantity of studies disagreeing with me is.)"

Steensma also counted patients as 'not persisting as transgender' if they ghosted him on follow-up which counted for a third of his study's "detransitioners" and a fifth of the total subjects and. look. i'm not saying none of them detransitioned, or assuming they all didn't would be notably more accurate, but i think we can safely treat twenty percent of subjects as a bit high for making a default assumption, especially when some of them might have simply not been interested in a study on whether or not they still know who they are. Fuck knows i've seen pro-trans studies which didn't make assumptions about the people who didn't respond still get prodded by anti-trans people insisting "the number of people claiming they don't regret transitioning can't possibly be so high, some of the people who responded must have been lying. (Scientific rigor means thinking studies which disagree with me are wrong even if the only explanation is the subjects lying and studies which agree with me are right even if we need to make assumptions about a lot of subjects to get there.)"

and this is not new information. not the issues with zucker, not the issues with steensma, not any of the issues because this is not a new study, it's a review of older studies, which in itself doesn't mean "bad" or "useless" -- sometimes that allows connecting some previously-unconnected dots -- but the idea this is going to absolutely blow apart the Woke Media, vindicate Rowling and Lineham, and "save" ""gay"" children from """being forcibly transed""" is bullshit. At most it'll get dragged around and eagerly cited by all the people looking for anything vaguely scientific-sounding to justify their beliefs, and maybe even people who only read headlines and sound bites will buy it, but the people who really believe it will be people who already agreed with all its "findings" and have already been dragging around the existing studies and are just excited to have a shiny new citation for it.

the response from people who've been really reading research on transgender people all along is going to be more along the lines of "……yeah. yeah, i already knew about that. do you need a three-page essay on why i don't think it means what you think it means? because i don't have time for that homework right now but maybe i can pencil it in for next semester if you haven't learned how to check your own sources by then."

[jccatstudios]

Hello!!! Reaching out because I have kind of a funny story. Five or six years ago, my uncle Caplain said one of his students was an artist like me and bought me a copy of your book, Meow Cats United. Although you've certainly improved a lot since then, that book has always inspired me-- it's extremely impressive to do that much work to fill a whole book. I'm so so happy to see that you have a tumblr and that you're still making awesome comics, it kinda made my day to find your blog ^^ keep making cool stuff I love your six of crows work!!!!

WOAH!!! What a small world! Tell your uncle "hi" from me. Hope he's doing well. His classes were always entertaining haha

Bit of context for the rest of you, Meow Cats United was a graphic novel I started when I was 12 and finished when I was like 14 or 15. My school wanted me to stop taking the advanced 7th-grade math course and go on to high school math, but I've never been into the idea of skipping grades, so I had to fill in the period I would've been taking that first math class. I pitched the idea of creating a graphic novel, and two-and-a-half years later, I published this book.

It's funny, if you ever go to comic industry panels, the pros will always tell you to start small, do an eight-page comic as your first work. And they're usually right about that, since big projects are more likely to be demotivating and harder to finish. Well, this 198-page book was my first project, and it solidified my motivation to pursue comics for the rest of my life.

This ask really surprised me this morning! I never thought I'd see or meet anybody who knew this comic, besides the people I knew from my hometown of course. I'm really glad it could inspire you. I have a lot of dream projects, but reworking this comic as a professional might just be the one I'm most excited to take on.

This ask honestly made my day. Thanks for reaching out!

[hoe4sports]

Caroline Graham Hansen | “Jeg elsker deg”

a/n: Trigger warning includes depression, pain and hospitals. Part one for context.

I watched the girls put in the work on the field. I watched my girlfriend do her best to find ways through Chelsea’s defence, but we kept making the same mistake. The fun part is, that the mistake is what we have been practicing for a good month. It’s no secret that Jonathan was visibly upset. We were currently under by two goals, and Jonathan was on my ass about figuring this out in the break. I was 4 seconds away from stealing the red card from the sideline judge and personally fault Jonathan, but just in time; the game was called of at midtime and I marched into the warderobe. I had spent the last mins of the match analysing and putting together a video for the girls to understand what we need to do. I was just praying that it would work, because Jonathan was furious. Being the assistant in charge of the attackers, I was really put on the spot. 

“Alright, girls. We have to turn this around. Bronze, Graham; You are not communicating enough. Watch.” I played the video over and over. “Do you see this? They take advantage of the tunnel you pull, and they catch you off guard. Keep the ball between your feet until their defender runs towards you, then you let the ball go and spirit sideways to receive from Bronze.” Caroline and Lucy nodded, and I scanned the group mentally. “Alright girls, five minutes; drink some water, make sure you don’t stiffen and get some carbs” I said as I smacked the tablet’s case shut. Jonathan was in the doorway and nodded, he seemed to be fine with the solution that I’d just pulled out of my ass. 

The game was on again, and after 4 minutes Caroline was able to run the ball up from midfield and to her mark. She waited for the defender, who went straight into the trap allowing Caroline to tunnel the ball to Bronze as she sprinted to recurve the ball on the right. Caroline received and set the ball in the net, in a jaw dropping goal leaving the Chelsea keeper lying flat on the ground. “Good work.” Jonathan said approvingly as the girls celebrated on the field. 

Caroline were able to put another goal in at 85 mins, and on overtime she put the ball in at 5-4. This goal however, was careerchanging. As she hit the ball and sent it in the net; she reached for her knee mid air. I recognised that look, that feeling and that moment. I’d done it myself at 15 leaving my career and my spot on the national u16 girls team dead. The crowed gasped loudly as Caroline laid curled together in a ball. The medics ran onto the field and I was trying to stay positive. Ingrid came over and hugged me, “it’s bad” she whispered. I nodded and followed “I think it’s the acl.” Jonathan froze when he heard my statement. His star player was possibly injured and out for months.

I wanted to run into the field, but I knew that I couldn’t. The medics carried her off in a stretcher and walked her into the medical room. I looked at Jonathan who nodded in approval, and so I ran after them into the room. Caroline was crying hysterically and had her soaked jersey over her head. The medics were trying to ask her questions, but she was just sobbing as if there was no tomorrow. For her, it felt like her career ended out on the field. I stepped forward and leaned down to her ear. “Skatten min, jeg er her og jeg skal ingen steder.» i said in norwegian as she sobbed softly. Whenever she was vulnerable, she would only calm down when i talked in norwegian. Its was like our secret language, and it made her feel comforted. “Det er slutt. Dette er siste gang. Karrieren min er over.» She cried as the medics examined her over and over again. I pulled the jersey off her face, and dried her soaked eyes.  «Pust jenta mi, vi vet ingenting ennå.» i assured her again as I kept wiping her tears. The team strapped her leg in and then we headed off to the hospital.

I sat in the hallway outside of the MR machine. I had flashbacks to when I was young and had this career ending injury. I had Caroline’s phone and jacket in my hands, as well as her necklace that she couldn’t wear during the scan. The scan took 15 minutes, and she was wheeled out to the waiting room. I looked at her and she was just staring down not wanting to acknowledge the leg in the brace. “Baby..” I said to her, and she shot me a look that was a combination of wanting to kill me and wanting to be held. We sat in silence until a doctor came out to the private waiting room. “Mrs. Graham-Hansen, please follow me.” The older doctor said. I stood up and reached my hand out, he shook it. “Mrs.Graham-Hansen, it’s a pleasure” he said, and I made sure to correct him. “I’m her trainer, just call me Benedicte” I said politely. I wheeled her after the doctor to another room with a mr picture on the light wall. I knew what that meant. Caroline on the other hand, didn’t. I sat down next to her as the doctor gave her the death sentence. 

“It’s a fully ruptured acl.” he pointed to

the pictures as he talked about recovery time and surgery versus rehabilitation. My focus was on Caroline. She appeared to be dissociated, and calm at the same time. She sniffed a couple of times, and her tears were running down her face. The doctor stood up, “I’ll give you some time to decide” he said as he closed the door behind him. Caroline sat there, staring blankly into the air, not recognising her leg. She was looking blank, and I tried to talk to her but with no luck. She seemed to be heartbroken, and depressed. Later that day she was operated, and got put in a rehabilitation boot specially made for acl ruptures. She had a pair of crutches and a bag with her old clothes in. Her jersey, her socks, cleats and her shorts.

I hunched down on her level, and placed my hand on hers. “Baby, do you wanna go home or do you wanna stay at my place?”. No response. She hadn’t really said anything since getting diagnosed at 16.00 this afternoon and I was worried. “Okay love, I’m bringing you to my place.” I said as my car was pulled up by the consigliere at this fancy private hospital. I helped her into the back seat so her leg could rest comfortably and drove home to my place.

As we entered the apartment, I dropped the Nike bag I had with the painkillers, old clothes and information from the hospital. Caroline was still staring empty. I guided her to the bedroom as she had been in anaesthetic a few hours prior. She laid down in bed, and I found a hoodie and shorts for her to wear. I had to put it on her, and she just sat there, having enough with existing. I grabbed her a bottle of water with ice and brought her my longest charger. The stack of pillows underneath her leg was overwhelming, but it was required to elevate it to avoid extensive swelling. She drifted asleep after I had given her snuggles on the back, and I slipped to the bathroom for a shower. My phone lit up, and I realised that I hadn’t talked to anyone all day. Therefore, I updated our closest friends and the coaches. I showered to get the smell of hospital off me and put on some comfy pyjamas. As I stood in the kitchen, I could hear crying. I did a full 180 and sprinted to the bedroom. “Are you okay, Skatt?” I said with a worried tone in my voice. She was clutching to her knee. Pain, it was hurting. Caroline didn’t normally hurt, and she wasn’t sensitive to pain at all. I quickly grabbed the hardcore painkillers that were given to her by the hospital and got two of them ready. “Open up, love” I said as she separated her lips. She took the pills and swallowed it down with water. “Lay with me?” I couldn’t say no. I laid down and held her as she cried into the late hours of the night.

9 days had passed since the incident. Caroline was still only out of bed for bathroom breaks, and she wouldn’t for the life of her do her physical therapy. A bunch of her teammates had visited to try to get her to talk, however that wasn’t Caroline’s strong side from before so I don’t really expected her to talk now. I came home on day 9 at around 4 to find my girlfriend in the bedroom. She looked awful. Her usually tan skin was pale, her eyes had bags as big as Katie McCabe’s list of yellow cards and I could see that her muscles were deteriorating. She was a tall girl too, so it was scary to see the effects of her refusal to eat. It might only be 7 kg, but on a girl 175 cm tall and 60 kg? That’s underweight. “Jenta mi, Im home» i announced as i closed the door and dropped my bag to the floor. «Have you eaten?» no answer. “Have you had a shower then?” No answer. “Okay, have you done your exercises?” Still, no answer. 

The issue with Caroline was that her whole life has revolved around football since she was a young girl. Being on the pitch was everything and the only thing she wanted to do. Her success was related to how good she was in football. Her happiness came from how many goals she could score. Football was her life, and she couldn’t see herself doing anything else. Now, she was just a nobody. Just another player that had their career end because of a ruptured acl. Her life was over, according to her. She was stuck in this mindset, refusing to acknowledge her leg or even her other functional body parts. She refused to have a relation to her injury. She beat herself up mentally again and again and again, until she couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing seemed to snap her out of it, and I was getting concerned that this was actually where her career ended. Not because of the injury, but because she refused to acknowledge it. And me? I had now gotten enough.

“Caroline..” i spoke softly. She didn’t bat an eye. She was just staring out into nothing like she had been doing for 10 hours each day. I had brought her ps5 over from her house, and set it up but she refused. “Caroline, you have to talk to me.” I stated again, a little bit harsher this time. I sighted, it was now time for tough love. “CAROLINE GRAHAM HANSEN, will you please GET OFF YOUR ASS AND DO SOMTHING!!” I yelled. Her eyes fluctuated over to me, and she was now for once paying attention. “Now, this isn’t you. You don’t sit around and pout all day! This isn’t you! It’s time to put the sad aside and start to recover!” I shouted and tears formed in her eyes. Suddenly, her face went from sad to angry. “YOU DONT GET TO TELL ME ABOUT SAD!!” She screamed back at me. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Oh my, I thought to myself. I really did piss her off, but atleast she was communicating her feelings. “My acl has is gone. My career is gone! My hard work is gone! My friends are going to disappear and so are you because I have to go back to Norway to live with my parents and be a joke for the rest of my life!!” She screamed as her breath was heavy. I scooted to her and wrapped my arms around her. She was stiff as a stick, and I pushed her head towards my chest. “It’s okay, love. You are allowed to have feelings» i comforted her as i could feel her tears soak my shirt. Her silent cries turned into loud crying, hysterically crying to say the least. She was shaking and hyperventilating like crazy. I had never seen her like this ever before, it was new and scary but it also felt like a new trust was born. 

“Baby, you have to breathe. You need oxygen.” I said as I stroke her back with even pressure. “Skatten min, trekk pusten nå. Dette klarer du.» I said as I tried to reassure her and encourage her. She nodded, and I made sure to model how she needed to breath. “Breathe in 1-2-3-4-5, and out.” We did that 7-8 times before she had calmed down. She looked up at me with the saddest eyes I had ever seen in a while. “Let’s get you put back together” I said as I hopped up from the bed, giving her the crutches she hated so much. The crutches she had promised herself to never need was now her new accessory. She shot me a look, refusal in her eyes. “It’s not worth it” she mumbled as she trailed off her sentence. “It wasn’t a question” I stubbornly said as I booped her nose. She sighted, and grabbed the crutches from me. She hesitated, and looked at me with less confidence than ever before. “I-i can’t do it, it’s gonna hurt or it’s gonna become even worse. It’s too much, it’s useless! It will never be like before” she said as she threw her crutches on the ground. “Alright, you wanna do this the hard way? That’s fine. Two can play that game.” I said stubbornly as I picked up her crutches again. I handed them back to her, and placed her body in position to stand up. “Now pretty girl, you are going to stand up on your good leg and carefully shift weight onto the bad leg. If it hurts, you stop. But it’s been 9 days, it’s not supposed to hurt.” I instructed as she gave me yet another eyeroll. 

She was feeling unsure. She felt like it wasn’t her leg anymore, it was weak and shaky. It was not her leg anymore, she rather felt like her leg owned her. That she was a slave to her own leg. She just sat there staring at her leg, and contemplated what reason she could give me that would make me stop. “It dosent feel like my leg..” she mumbled broken hearted. I started getting unpacient as my adhd was catching up on me. Alright, I thought to myself. The doctor said that the brace could be taken of when she was at home after a week, and it had been nine days. She was not gonna budge and she put her legs back up in the bed. I however, was no match for her with my stubbornness . “Fine” I said as I positioned me beside her leg and started loosening the brace. Her eyes widened “No, it has to stay on” she protested as I ignored her. I slowly undid the brace to reveal a healing surgical wound. She looked at it with disgust, a reminder of what was gonna ruin her career. I looked at it with admiration, and traced the scars carefully. 

“Now, Caroline, you will stand.” I said as I stood up next to her and once again handed her the dreaded crutches. She sighted again and shot me a look of discomfort. “Fine..” she muttered as she scooted to the bedside so her good leg touched the ground. I lifted her bad leg for her, and positioned it in front of her. I knew that she hadn’t done her stretches or any training she was given, so I started carefully bending the leg. “See, it’s okay, it’s fine, it’s working.” I said as a placed it down while she nervously looked at it. I looked at the brunette who was terrified of her own leg, as I stepped back to give her room to stand. She got up on the good leg, and looked at me with horror. “Im scared, baby.” That was my cue, so I moved myself to stand next to her. My hand reached around her waist offering support to her weak body. “Now, let’s start with one step.” I said as I pulled her forward. She hesitated at first, but she slowly took a step forward. And another one. And another one. And another one. Her eyes widened as she looked at me, in shock of what had actually happened. “I would never let you do something that would hurt you, baby.” I said as I touched her cheek. I repositioned myself to be standing in front of her, and I pushed her crutches out of her hands. She looked rather terrified as she reached for me. But I took a step back. “Come here, I’ll support you.” I said as Caroline looked like she was in major distress. She took a step towards me and reached for my hands, and I took another are back. She gasped loudly, and I motioned for her to keep going. “10-11-12-13” I said as I stopped when my back touched a wall and Caroline relaxed as she touched my arms. “13 steps, perhaps 13 is your lucky number?” I said as I giggled. 

We moved to the bathroom and I had prepared a shower for her. Luckily, there was a build in tiled bench in my huge shower. She shot me a look of worry, and I smiled at her. “I’m gonna help you, don’t worry.” I said as I pulled of my 9 day old sweater while she sat down on the chair I had moved into the bathroom for her. I could see her getting increasingly shy as she was left in a sports bra and shorts. Her eyes moved to the floor, confused as to why she was feeling like this. She normally showered with her teammates without hesitation, but this time. It was different. She felt increasingly vulnerable, and has a sad look in her face. She was going through a bunch of scenarios in her head where I was gonna be disappointed with her body. She had abs, but not crazy abs like a few of the other girls. She was not very tanned on anything expect her legs and arms, as she never wore anything less than a t shirt. She reached her arm across her chest to rub her other arm struggling to find comfort in her own presence. I turned around when I had shoved the sweater into the washing machine to she the frown on her face. “What’s wrong, love?” I asked her, as I hunched down to remove her socks and her shorts. She gulped and opened her mouth to try to speak. “I haven’t really been naked infront of anyone like this before..” she spat out and I smiled as i looked at her. “My perfect girl..” I started while I stepped towards her and embraced her. “Your body is perfect just like it is. You are beautiful. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” My comforting words seemed to had gotten through to her as I could feel her nodding. I helped her remove her underwear, and I helped her get into the shower bench. “Alright, soap is next to you. You can use my shampoo and my conditioner. Take as long as you’d like. I will be sitting outside the door, just call my name and I’ll be there” I finished as I kissed her nose. 

I flopped down on the floor outside of the bathroom as I could hear the water being turned on. My phone buzzed, and I reached for it to reveal a message from Jonathan. I quickly replied, and made a plan for her to go in tomorrow to see her team. “Benedicte?” a familiar voice broke the silence. “Are you okay, love? Need a towel?” I asked as I mentally slapped myself for not remembering to lay a towel out for her. I didn’t want her walking on wet tiles with wet feet. That was the recipe for disaster. “Could you come in?” she requested and I followed her commands. “I can’t reach my feet” she begun, and I cut her off when she started trailing off. My hands grabbed a washcloth and a washed her feet making sure to be extra careful with her bad leg. She finished up the shower, and I helped her getting out. “Here” I said as I reached out a Barca grey sweatsuit and some underwear she had left here earlier. She looked at me with a thankful look on her face, and I kissed her. “Anything for you love” I said before I helped her get pants, socks and underwear on. “There, now you are all set!” I said enthusiastically. 

The next step in the program was food, nutrition. She was very dedicated to eating healthy, and taking good care of her body. I whipped up some leftover lemon baked salmon from yesterday, and she devoured it. I giggled as she looked at me with a satisfied look. “Thank you, for everything really. For reality checking me. For taking care of me.” she was visibly grateful, and I touched her face with my thumb. “That’s the kind of thing you do for people you love” I said proudly, as I took a sip of her water. “Love?” She repeated. We hadn’t really told each other that we loved one another. I wanted to move at her pace considering this was her first, and hopefully last relationship. “Love” I repeated as my hands grabbed her hands. “Jeg elsker deg skatt» i said while admiring her beautiful eyes. Tears started forming in them, and she sniffled. “Jeg elsker deg mer, kjæresten min.»  

[gardenvarietydemon]

I've seen people mention that Crowley and Aziraphale might be swapped at the very end, but I really think they were swapped for the entire final 15, it doesn't really change anything other than the context under which the conversation is happening, but it makes more sense. They're a lot of little things that I'll list below but I'll put the three biggest things at top

Tartan collar: they are wearing the outfits they wear when switching in S1 and "Crowley" appears to have on The tartan collar ( This can be seen by pausing S2E6 at 36:27 it is red earlier in the same episode at as well as in the prior episode the first picture where it's red is when he was coming back from taking Nina and Maggie to the coffee shop)(you have to pause it as Aziraphale and the Metron are leaving the shop to be able to see it is not red)

Crowley gives away a book which we've established he would not do, but Aziraphale has in this season.

Crowley mentions a conversation that happened between Aziraphale and Maggie, not Crowley.

This is everything:

After seeing the metatron talk to Nina we come in to the middle of conversation showing we have missed something.

Azira seems stoic while being threatened (How Crowley portrays him when switched)

Crowley stops walking like Crowley after they (Met and Azi) leave ( He takes a few steps then starts to walk with less sway) then sees Muriel and is startled. (Becuase he was caught out of character?)

Crowley More sarcastic/unnecessarily cruel with Muriel (See swap in S1 Aziraphale plays Crowley as more sarcastic)

Crowley gives away a book (established earlier in season he would not however Azira gives away a Doctor Who Annual and allows Maggie and Nina to throw encyclapidias)

Gives Muriel the crow road. They said they want a book because books are like people but portable, He gave her a book about life, love, death and being human. And says "here you'll like this one" which comes off as a snarky remark (Or is this Azira breaking character to give a book recommendation because he just can't help himself?)

Crowley mentions seeing Maggie crying (only Azira saw this, and when he told Crowley the reason for helping her he did not mention it)

He says he was meddling because Nina needing saving the audience assumes they mean from her relationship but the ineffable idiots never found out about her relationship they would be talking about saving her from demons but that occured at the ball (Crowley tried to get them together before that so it doesn't make sense to say that's when he started meddling, but the ball is when Aziraphale started meddling)

Azira's voice in a higher register during scene (Azira's voice goes lower usually when upset or making a point (correcting Furfur, quieting fighting demons/angels, telling Shax they can't come in) Crowley's normally goes higher)

Azira has spent this season reflecting on the cruelty of heaven and his feelings for Crowley (sudden change from the rest of season does not have narrative flow)

Crowley has spent the season focused on protecting/saving

Opposite sides (through the season as they have changed focus the sides (Crowley on the left Azira on the right) have changed but now they are changed back. It seems normal but is still a juxtaposition from what we have seen in the season) IE in this season the person on the left is the one who wants their needs over the needs of humanity person on the right is the protector.

Azira has been reflecting on the cruelties of Heaven and would know Crowley does not want to go back (Crowley says so multiple times in s1) but looks surprised that he says no. (If they are switched Crowley would not know Azira has been reflecting on this and would be surprised the he said no)

Azira saying I can make a difference (the other angels have beat him down and shown him he can't so many times I doubt he believes that but Crowley does)

Azira specifies Crowley will be his second in command (there is no reason for him to specify this but if it is Crowley he is telling Azira that he is not up to anything and will answer to him)

Crowley says you are better than this (means very little unless it is the other way around Azira has spent the whole season reflecting on Crowley being better than heaven)

Crowley confessing does not move the narrative he has said all of that before in S1.

Crowley says you are always there for me (Crowley always saves Azira)

Crowley says they pretend not to be a team (Azira pretends they are not a team Crowley always says they are.)

The confession mirrors pride and prejudice, (aziraphale is loves with pride and prejudice.)

Crowley says if Belzebub/Gabriel can do it we can (Crowley suggest they running away together in S1 he already knew, Belz/Jim's story didn't change things but Azira can be seen in the background excited and reaching for Crowley when they confess this is when HE realized they could be together)

Azira is shocked Crowley is leaving (Every time they fight Crowley leaves until he calms down and comes back and Ariza waits, this is the normal dynamic so why is he suprised, if they are swapped it would be weird for Aziraphale to be upset and leaving especially in the wrong body)

Azira uses some of the same language Crowley used to convince him in last season. (Azira using Crowley's speech patterns)

Crowley has at least seen movies with kissing and would know not to kiss like it was a fight (if they are switched Azira is drawing from experience of their past for how he should kiss while still looking like Crowley and this looks like the scene where Crowley pushes Azira against the wall for calling him nice(Also that's probably been in his head for a minute))

Azira seems shocked but has been trying to work towards something like this all season (Crowley would be shocked)

Azira holding his lips and looking shocked (if they are switched Crowley not realizing that Azira was confessing but thought he was pretending to be Crowley did not realize until this moment)

After a fight Crowley always runs and Azira always waits (Crowley is waiting by the Bentley)

The Bentley can tell them apart and plays modern not bebop music and drives away slowly

After the credits roll Azira smiles and the smile doesn't look like how Azira smiles but it looks like Crow as Azira in the hell fire scene in S1

Neil gaiman repeats/forshadows earlier in this episode Azira is waiting for Crowley to save him from demons and Crowley comes back after because he left to go to heaven.

Neil repeats/ shell game mentioned multiple times they make similar movements in the intro

Crowley knows from the Gabriel docs that Armageddon 2 is in plan and would have a reason to go back to heaven Azira would not necessarily know this yet or have a reason to go back especially if he had already said he was not going.

[theprissythumbelina]

Snippet Time!

I feel like I haven't posted anything in forever, and since I mentioned him on one of my polls I thought I might post this for reads and comments.

As a bit of context, Kel comes into Mortal Sparks as a detective and former companion of Nicolette's mother. He helps Nicolette and Alyss move through the big city and eventually flee the continent on a ship. Kel has been haunted through his life by the kidnapping and murder of most of his family, which he believes was tied to the exotic slave trade. Despite his efforts, the three youngest members of his family have been missing for over 20 years.

This snippet is from his childhood in the rural mountains of Clard Bute.

@thetruearchmagos @teacupsandstarlight if you're up for a bit of not-light reading?

"Happy birthday!"

Owen groaned as he was shaken so hard his head flopped off the pillow. 

"Happy birthday!" a chipper voice repeated, a soft thump landing next to his head. Owen curled tighter in his quilt. Small hands patted his cheek repeatedly.

"You think we should get the water, Pat?" Conner asked, somewhere above. 

"Gonna be late if we don't," Patty grumbled. 

Owen fumbled to his left, snagging Riley and pulling her in with a squeal. "Gonna get the baby wet," he mumbled, tickling her until she flopped off the bed, still giggling. He pulled himself up and rubbed his eyes. 

"I'll pay that price," Conner loomed over him, wielding a cup threateningly. Owen could see it was empty from the bed. He stuck his tongue out. 

"That's not how a man acts," Patty scolded from the door. She tried to pick Riley up from the floor and was promptly tickled in return. "Get up, Owen. Kel made breakfast."

"Get up, Owen," Conner mimicked. 

"Get up, Owen!" Riley added helpfully. "Up, Owen!"

"I'm going to eat," Patty sniffed. She left, and Owen pushed himself up. He pulled a shirt over his longjohns, stumbling as Riley tangled herself in his legs. 

"Can you get rid of her?" he pleaded to Conner. 

His older brother swept Riley up in a bear hug. 

"Com'on, blubberbug, breakfast's waiting." He walked her awkwardly out to the kitchen as she tried to wiggle over his shoulder. Owen pulled on his boots and shuffled after them. 

"Morning, birthday boy!" Kel crowed from the stove. Patty was already grumpily spooning oatmeal into her bowl. Owen's eyes caught on a small pile of chokecherries at Kel's elbow. Kel caught his look and grinned. 

"Ready to eat?" He held out a bowl and sprinkled the chokecherries dramatically on top. "Only the best for our new man of the house."

Owen wrinkled his nose. "I'm twelve," he complained. "'Sides, that's Noah."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Kel teased. "I get you wains out of bed, I feed you, I clean your nasty clothes -" he paused to pull Riley's hair out of her oatmeal, twisting it into a hair-tie. "And it ain't no picnic." 

"Love you, Kel," Patty announced obediently, Owen and Conner a beat behind. Kel waved it away affectionately.

"Get on to school, now. You'll be late." Owen crammed more chokecherries in his mouth in between gulping down oatmeal. He grabbed his books, packed and ready by the door, and trooped out with Conner, Patty, and Riley. 

"Not coming, Kel?" Patty turned before the door shut. Kel shook his head.

"Gotta call Mom, you ken? She probably lost track of the days. She'll want to be here tonight." 

He said it with such easy confidence, Owen almost believed him. Conner muttered something, but shook his head when Owen leaned closer. He tugged at Patty's arm, and she let the door slam shut. 

"He's gonna be behind next time he does come," she complained as they stomped down the frosted dirt road. Owen gazed up at the lightening sky, hoping they'd have an early snow for his birthday. 

"He's not going back," Conner snapped. "He's gonna go with Noah next year, and I'll be looking after you lot. And once you get to 15, you'll be looking after Owen and Rils and I'll be working too."

Patty was silent for a moment. She stepped over the pinecone Owen kicked her way, still frowning. 

"But I like school. I want to be a nurse, you have to go to school past 15 for that."

"Yeah, and I wanted to be a printer. But someone has got to take care of the littles."

"Kel takes care of us just fine," she protested. "Why can´t he stay home? He's been doing it since Mom left."

"Daithaine ort, Pat, 'cause he's gotta work. You think Noah makes enough for 5 of us? You think we can live off berries and rabbits forever? What about our clothes, Pat? You'll be fine, you got Mom's and 'Kayla's dresses, but what about Owen?"

Owen hunched his shoulders at his name. Patty had a stubborn look on her face, like she was glaring at John Balacky all over again. Conner went on. 

"His boot were Dad's, then they were Noah's, then they were Kel's, then they were mine. You think they're gonna last much longer?"

Owen could hear Noah's words as Conner ranted. A three-room cabin was not enough space to avoid eavesdropping even on a quiet conversation. He'd seen the slump of Kel's shoulders through the door slit, heard a mumbled agreement as Noah ran his hand over his face. He had looked older than nineteen, in the lamplight. Owen had heard a different variation a few days later, as Conner tried to make his own stand. Kel had put a hand on his shoulder, but Conner shook it off and stomped into the bedroom he shared with Owen. 

Noah had gone to bed a few moments later, pausing at the door as Conner cried quietly with his face toward the wall. His footsteps moved on after a few seconds, leaving only Kel to quietly prepare the kitchen for the morning. 

 Owen had barely seen his oldest brother for the last two years, and never in daylight. He rose before the rest, second only to Kel, who got up first to warm the stove. He got back home late too, smelling like sap and cold and sweat. Kel alone waited up for him most nights, though the sound of movement sometimes stirred the younger kids to say goodnight. 

Owen blinked as Patty stomped her foot, now in a full-fledged argument with Conner. He buried his fingers deeper in his pockets, wondering if it was worth the effort to break them up. He yawned and thought better of it. They were still arguing as he pushed open the wire gate to the schoolhouse. 

Kel was waiting for them as soon as the school bell rang. He leaned on the wire fence, grinning cheekily at the older girls standing in the schoolyard. Mary Balacky in particular took notice, her face turned toward him even as she chatted with her friends. Her red bow bounced slightly on the top of her head as she nodded happily, her eyes darting to Kel. Owen wrinkled his nose as Patty snorted. John Balacky stuck his tongue out at Patty as she and Owen pushed past, half-hidden behind his sister's skirt. 

"Where'd Conner get off too?" Kel asked cheerfully, glancing at Patty and Owen before eyeing the girls again. He had a pack slung over one shoulder that was suspiciously lumpy. 

"Ms. K wanted to talk with him," Patty said snottily. 

"She said he wasn't in trouble," Owen piped up. 

"Probably she wants to give him another award for good behavior," Kel reached over and tugged at Patty's curls. "Not like little Miss Right Hook here."

"Jonny started it," Patty insisted, swatting at Kel's arm. 

"And you ended it just like I showed you, huh? Right in the kisser. Pow!" 

Patty grinned. 

"What's that?" Owen pointed to the bag. 

"Nothing for right now. Gotta wait for the celebration, alright?"

Conner stomped out of the school, glowering at the younger kids in his way. They scattered like sparrows as he reached the gate. 

"There he is," Kel greeted him. "You get another gold star?" 

Conner resettled his bag on his shoulder. "She wanted to know if this was my last year in school." He shrugged. "I told her I didn't know."

Kel grimaced, making an aborted attempt to pat Conner's shoulder. "Well," he cleared his throat, "Let's get going, wains."

A chorus of "Bye, Kel!" followed them away from the school. Kel twisted to give one last wave before settling to walk up the mountain, his arm draped over Owen's shoulder. Halfway to the house, Owen gathered the courage to speak.

"Kel?" He hesitated. 

Kel tightened his arm supportively. 

"What's the craic?" 

Owen felt his newfound courage fade. "What if…" he tried, but lapsed into silence. Kel gave him small smile. 

"What if it doesn't work?" he finished for Owen. Owen nodded, cheeks heating. 

"Well," Kel dragged the word out, "If it doesn't, we gotta feed you to the fairies, you know." 

Owen blinked at him. "The fairies?"

"Yeah, you´ve seen the ring down by the kill. You know, we used to have another brother, but it didn't work for him, so he had to go into the ring."

Owen stared up at him. Kel snorted. 

"Geez, If I told you I wrote gullible on the roof you'd look up, wouldn't you?"

"Uh," Owen muttered. 

"It's gonna work, buddy. And if it doesn't, you'll still be our annoying littlest brother. 'Sides, you don't remember your teething years. You've got some strong chompers."

Kel poked at his mouth playfully. "Open up now, let's see those sharp canines. I've still got a scar from when I got too close to your dinner."

Owen pushed him away. Kel chuckled and slung his arm back over Owen's shoulder. "You're gonna be fine, I promise. Scout's honor."

Owen nodded, but he burrowed a light tighter under Kel's arm anyway. 

At the house, he and Patty did their homework while Conner helped Riley with hers, and Kel chopped firewood behind the house until dinnertime. 

Owen looked up when the door opened, expecting to see Kel. Instead, Noah pushed his way in, dropping his knapsack in the line of bags by the door. Owen jumped out of his seat and rushed into Noah's arms. 

Noah chuckled, wrapping Owen in a bear hug. "Easy there, bud," he rumbled. Patty and Riley also joined the clump, squishing Owen between his siblings. 

"I didn't know if you were gonna be here," Owen beamed up at Noah. 

"Course I was. I wouldn't miss your birthday."

"Missed mine," Conner muttered from the table. Noah looked up, a dark expression clouding his face, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Kel pushing past. 

"None of that," Kel told Conner pointedly, "This is a birthday and we're gonna be happy with each other, okay?"

Conner shrugged, but followed him back out for another armful of firewood. 

With the stew ready and the shadows stretching over their cottage, Owen sat in the middle of his family as they prayed and sang and ate. As he tipped the last of the stew into his mouth, Kel stood up and fetched his bag, setting it down in front of Owen and taking his bowl. Owen pulled back the top of the bag and lifted out a pair of dark leather boots, solid and sturdy, with only a few scratches on the toe. He breathed in the smell of clean leather, with no scent of his brothers. These boots were his and his alone. He grinned up at Noah, who was watching him with a tired smile. 

"You'll need to pad them out with your socks still," he told Owen, "but we figured your old ones were about ready to kick the can. These should last you at least ten years, if you care for them right."

"I will," Owen promised. He stood and hugged Noah, then Kel. 

"You want another bowl?" Kel asked. "There's a little left." 

Owen shook his head. "Its almost time, right? We could visit Kayla and Dad, before…"

Noah got to his feet. "Good idea. Let's go visit Kayla. The bonfire is close to her anyway."

The kitchen was suddenly a bustle of activity as everyone fetched coats and boots. Kel fussed over Riley, pushing his own gloves over her mittens and wrapping a second scarf over her head. He delayed so long that even Noah rolled his eyes and pushed them all outside. 

All six followed a small path through the trees, into a small clearing. Owen blinked in the darkness of the trees, but he followed his brother's sure footsteps into the lighter area of the clearing. Puffs of air hung around their heads as the family gathered next to two headstones. Owen hung away from the second headstone. It had always made him feel weird, that there was no grave under it. It was like talking to empty air. But, the loggers never found any remains to give them. Their mother had insisted on the headstone. 

Kel cleared his throat. "Hey, Kayla. Hey, Dad. It's Owen's birthday, his twelfth birthday. We, uh, we wanted to come and all be together -  well almost all, but," He took a deep breath. "We wanted to come and remember that, we're still a family. And we always will be. You both should have been here tonight, and -"

He stumbled to a stop. Noah took over. "You aren't forgotten. You never will be. Each of us carries you in our hearts. Tonight, in this life or the next, we are together, as family."

Patty nudged Owen. "Say something," she hissed. 

"Uh, Dad, Kayla, I miss you. We miss you. But I promise, I'm gonna make you proud, and I'm gonna, uh, take my place in the family. We're looking out for each other."

They stood in silence for a long moment. Kel shifted first, gazing at the sky. 

"Moon's almost up." he said. "Let's get to the fire."

On the other end of the clearing, Kel had piled logs and branches almost up to Owen's chest. The logs had already been doused with gasoline, and a thick swath of freshly tiled dirt created a barrier between the bonfire and any dry grass or pine needles. Noah struck a match and tossed it at the base of the logs. It caught flame with a bright flare that settled into a steady, warm blaze. 

Owen fiddled under his coat, clutching his amulet. He hadn't taken it off in nearly six years. His heart was already pounding away next to the amulet, heating the red stone. Owen heard a thump as Noah shed his heavy overcoat. To his right, Kel unwrapped his own scarf and added it on top of Riley's numerous layers, followed by his own coat. Conner had already stripped to his longjohns, and Patty was pulling off her boots. 

"It's best if you get the clothes off before it starts," Noah advised him gently, pulling off his shirt. "You don't want to rip anything." 

Owen nodded nervously. He had always been like Riley until now, waiting in cast off layers for the moon to finally cast light over the clearing. He tugged at the laces of his boots, his ears attuned to the soft sounds of clothes falling to the ground around him. Owen was down to his skivvies, shivering, when a low groan made him look up. 

The moon had risen. It loomed behind the mountains, thin wisps of clouds curling around and under its glow. Full, and huge, it stretched up, up, and at last pulled free of the horizon. Kel's head dropped back to his shoulders as he groaned again. Noah fell into a crouch. Conner stretched his arms forward. Patty threw her head back and let out a high, mournful cry, that slipped into a wild howl as she shuddered and folded, her forelimbs lengthening, her hair spreading to cover her entire body in dark brown fur. She threw back her muzzle and howled again. This time, Kel joined in, his voice dark and melodic. Noah and Conner joined, Conner an octave above both his brothers. 

Owen's throat ached to join in, like he had dreamed each full moon. But he clung to the amulet, his hand like a vise. If he took it off, he'd have no excuse. He hesitated. The voices dwindled off. A cold nudge to his elbow brought him back to reality, and he looked up at Kel's amber eyes. He was a huge werewolf, larger than a pony, but even a smaller werewolf like Patty could never be confused for a true wolf. It was the eyes, and the legs, with their strangely long paws and bent limbs. Kel nudged him again, his eyes gentle. 

Swallowing, Owen pulled the amulet over his head, and tossed it into the fire. For the first time, he felt the moon steal over his skin. It itched like crazy, like his skin was crawling, moving. He scratched at thick, dark fur that coated his arms, his legs, his chest. He cried out as his fingers cracked and twitched, becoming longer, thicker, built for running and clawing. He ran his tongue around a lengthening mouth, sharpening teeth, and finally, finally, settled in a crouch and tipped his head back to the moon, letting loose a howl. 

His siblings joined in joyously, howling and yipping, their voices bouncing off the mountains and echoing back like a pack of a hundred. Owen pulled in air through his nose for the first time, marking the scent of each of his pack, his family. The fire in front of him snagged in his nostrils, sharp and acrid, but below that was the scent of the trees, clean, and the earth, and a deer, stinking of fear as it bounded away. Owen ached to chase it. 

As if he had read Owen's mind, Noah rose to all four feet, summoning his pack with a low grumble. Owen bounded up, his tail betraying his excitement. Patty and Conner panted and yipped, circling Noah impatiently. Noah held them back until Kel straightened from his crouch, Riley steady on his shoulders. 

With a huff, Noah bounded forward, Patty and Conner on his heels, Owen and Kel bringing up the rear. They raced down the mountain, the scent of the deer's panic like a flare. Owen stretched his new limbs, feeling the blood pound freely through his veins. He matched pace with Conner, their shoulders' brushing in perfect unison. Patty yipped as she broke off to the right. Conner steered Owen to the left, surrounding the deer. They were so close now, he could hear the deer's heart pound. In the distance, another voice lifted to the moon. Wilder, older, and burdened by sorrow, but still celebrating a new member of the pack. 

[iamnotinit]

working on a timeline for madmartigan’s quest etc etc and trying to figure out the ages of folks on the quest bcos something hits different if the kids are supposed to be 15 or 25

Allagash says he’s been in the crow cages for 10 years, which means 10 years since the End of the quest.

In episode 2, during Willow’s flashback to visitng Sorsha and Elora, she says he’s been gone 80 moons— which I’m taking as moon cycles, so like months, so 1.5ish years? And Elora looks probably 5-6 years old?

sidebar Airk and Kit have to be Younger than Elora by like. about a year probably since yknow Sorsha and Madmartigan are not even together until the end of the original movie so what i’m saying is 1. maybe we can forgive kit for being a lil more immature and 2. kit and airk probably Barely remember their dad

somewhere i remember someone (Boorman?? maybe allagash) saying they looked for the cuirass for 5 years but i can’t track it down. anyway so from beginning of the cuirass quest to the current quest is about 15 years, kit and airk are probably around 18-19 and elora is like. 20, 21?

this makes sense with jade’s timeline too because scorpia said she was gone for 200 moons, aka ~16-17 years, and Jade seems like she remembers her family a bit and stuff but not enough for context of who her dad was or what her tattoo meant or that she got uhh Kidnapped, so makes sense if she was like 3 or 4

Graydon, who fucking knows

[jackwolfes]

thank you for tagging me @sixofsol !! 🥰💖

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

144 on my public pseud, 85 in my lil anon collection, 3 floating around secretly in another anon collection, and about 10-15 super super old ones that i orphaned from various asunder fandoms over the years. so at least 232, probably closer to 250 (dear god)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,688,252 words of non-orphaned works (dear GOD)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

primarily six of crows/SAB netflix, but recent fandoms that i might write more for soon include: red white and royal blue, percy jackson, winter’s orbit, bbc merlin, the last binding series, & the pulleyverse 

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

hours (whumpy firstprince fic)

you owe me for blowing up my bed (sab verse missing scene)

like putting on a costume (wesper PWP)

gorgeous (wesper PWP)

a choice of two locked doors (wesper arranged marriage)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i always try to!! but i’m not the best at it all the time 😅 i make more of an effort to reply to comments that are longer or that draw out particular parts of the fic that the reader liked!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i’m a big slut for a bittersweet but hopeful ending rather than angsty ones!! like possibly my ghost jesper fic because the final scene is Quite Literally wylan dying but like, that’s kinda happy given context???

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i am still personally enamoured with the vibes in the final scene of ACOTLD 🥰 and it makes me very happy! so! that one! 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

uhhh most regularly i just get snarky gobshites trying to be like, clever and smug about shit, which never really works because i generally don’t care? but then also i sometimes get transphobic hate speech so idk 😅

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i can't answer this non-sarcastically but like YEAH I'm a VERY HORNY WRITER and I feel like it says more about you than me if you haven't been able to guage that 😅 idk I have gotten a lot tamer though by including porn in longer fics compared to the very explicit collection of PWPs I used to write?? 

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

the closest i’ve gotten to crossover is sneaking shadow and bone characters into SOC fics! or like, the most subtle of references and cameos when I need random OCs like Easter eggs 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

a few times but i’ve always been vindicated by the fact they’ve never been well done? like it's always been word for word plagiraism (and also the ao3 abuse team is very good at taking things down)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i’m actually aware of! just podfics sometimes which has been nice 😊

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

never finished one but i’ve got 2-3 wips being co-written with my girlfriend atm 😊

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

i feel like it’s a cop out to say wesper but like,,,, 😅 idk! i like my lil stupid guys!! i like their vibe! 

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I think my problem is that I'm delusional enough to think that I will finish literally all of the WIPs I have started and want to finish even though that's like, 100 fics or something idiotic 😅

16. What are your writing strengths?

Themes and foreshadowing I think!! Like running themes for sure but I've had definitive compliments on my plotting before! I also think I'm pretty good at dialogue, especially arguments, and narrative tension/feelings! 👀

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i am not very good at cutting my darlings which means things get a bit meandering and diluted sometimes 😅

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i can get behind it in certain circumstances! personal preference is to translate large chunks of text ie "'[English words],' he said in [language]" but I do write individual words like pet names in other languages 

19. First fandom you wrote for?

fucking hetalia when i was like, 12 🫥 but i have also in past written for: homestuck, haikyuu, yuri on ice, the adventure zone (balance & graduation) and (CONSTANTLY forget this) miraculous ladybug! some of which are better than others ngl 😅

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

well this is like asking me to pick children & is also cruel when i have 230 of them klajdsfsadjfk  UHHH? i mean this is wicked cheating but im really attached to the bridgerton au i haven’t actually finished yet! it’s fully written, but needs editing, and one that i really really like!! in terms of fics i’ve POSTED, i really like “not just girls” (trans egg wylan), “you yearn to feel no hunger” (SAB-verse coda/character study) and a real deep cut, “only imaginary people disappear to peru for ten years” (missing scene from the lost future of pepperharrow)! idk i like a lot of the fics i’ve posted which is a nice position to be in 😅

most folks i know have done this i think but tagging: @kelliealtogether @apricior @doorsclosingslowly & anyone else that sees this & fancies it 😇

[franstastic-ideas]

Can I have the entire 50 character ask thing for your favorite sisterhood girl pls I like hearing about them

Ohhhh, don't make me CHOOSE!

I know I've already spoken quite a bit about Akari, but maybe I still haven't enough!

1. Canon I outright reject

Her being fifteen.

Akari's age should be up to interpretation, and I say this is a 21-22 year old woman who happens to be short.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

Hikari and Akari are one and the same, not separate people with an uncanny resemblance to one another.

3. Obscure headcanon

She has a deep, lovely, womanly voice...

Akari doesn't quite laugh out loud, so much as give a soft, breathy chuckle or snicker. But, if and whenever she does laugh, it sounds like the crowing of a Murkrow.

4. Favorite line

Not exactly my favorite, but it's the funniest in and out of context:

*said in the calmest of tones and with the most serene of smiles*

"Thorton, would you kindly shut your mouth?"

5. Best personality trait

She's extremely perseverant. She would have to be to have endured as much as she has in Hisui, as well as be perceived as a near unstoppable force by the general public.

6. Worst personality trait

Akari is extremely guarded about her softer emotions and can come off as cold because of that.

Due to her ambivalent sentiments towards the possibility of entering a romantic relationship, she either ignores the affection given to her by an admirer or will play the oblivious game for as long as possible (when she's not, you know, actually being oblivious).

7. Age/height/weight headcanon

As stated above, she is a 21-22 year old woman to me who just happens to be short - perhaps 5 ft. 2 in.

As for her weight... she's lost quite a bit since her arrival in Hisui.

8. Unpopular opinion about them

I'm personally not at all fond of her being characterized as this innocent, naive little creature that Volo takes great and perverse pleasure in manipulating and betraying.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Her mere existence was enough for me to love her.

But Akari possibly being the only protagonist to have embarked on a second adventure depending on personal interpretation definitely caught my interest.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

When she calmly asserts herself against Kamado during the trial that will decide Volo's fate.

No matter how much Kamado raises his voice arguing that he can no longer be trusted to keep his word and needs to be punished severely for his actions, Akari responds to him with a calculating coolness.

11. Faceclaim for the role

Akari has a design already, so I'll share my voice claim for her instead: Kikyo (Willow Johnson) from Inuyasha.

12. Crack headcanon

Akari won't allow herself to show any weakness - but thinking about Wheatley, her Rotom back in Sinnoh, reduces her to such a visibly miserable state, always letting out a deep sigh before saying:

"I miss my Rotom, (name). I miss him so much..."

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done

Actually considering for all of a moment eating the only-Arceus-knows-how-outdated Old Gateau she found in the Old Chateau.

14. Most heroic moment

Ask anyone in Hisui and they'll tell you it's when she survived her banishment and managed to quell Origin Forme Palkia's frenzy, thereby saving the entire world.

And then after that, taking down a deranged Volo on Mount Coronet's peak along with none other than The Renegade, a Legendary Pokémon created by almighty Sinnoh/Arceus with a history so violent that it warranted what was intended to be eternal banishment to The Distortion World.

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done

Akari turning her back on Volo after he lowered himself to his hands and knees begging for her forgiveness.

It's something she almost immediately began to regret. That desperate, tearful expression of his wouldn't leave her mind.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

She truly does want someone to love her. A man that will love her and only her to the point of obsession.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

Golden Afternoon by Circus-P.

"I'm invincible To all the rage, the hate, the pain of fate I am vulnerable To all my rage, my hate, the pace at which I change"

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about

Every single hardship she experienced in Hisui honestly warrants therapy, but she has too much pride to ever even momentarily consider attending a session.

19. Vices/bad habits

Akari tends to treat others in a similar manner to how she is treated. She won't stoop to pettiness or cruelty, but she will behave more coldly towards those who have wronged her.

20. Scars

Emotionally, her father abandoning her she was still small. He said being a married man with a child wasn't what he wanted out of life after all, so he left Twinleaf Town and never looked back.

Her mother fiercely believed that he would return, but once the realization he wouldn't finally struck her, Ayako stopped speaking for a while and accidentally neglected Hikari. Jun was Hikari's source of sunshine during this time.

Physically, I sometimes imagine she has a small to medium X-shaped scar on her chest from her battle with Lord Kleavor, and a few burns from the one with Lord Arcanine.

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)

Berry Juice, or Razz Berry Tea

22. Best physical feature

Her long, flowing, slate-colored hair has caught the eye of several.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

Lemon and Lavender~

24. Most annoying habit

She tends to intimidate others with her silvery gaze, something that more often than not isn't intentional.

25. 3 things they’d want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

Considering Akari did get dropped in the middle of nowhere, nowhere being Hisui, there are a few things she would have liked to have brought with her: her previous team members, but there are six of them rather than three.

26. What they would do if stuck in an elevator with [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

If she and Volo were trapped in an elevator, there are two drastically different outcomes that may occur:

Volo will try to take this opportunity, since it seems they're going to be in here for a little while, to get some smooching done - since people keep giving them less than appreciative stares when they do so in public.

Or, in the event that Volo doesn't know how elevators really work, despite his best efforts, he almost immediately spirals into a panic and begins blaming himself for this event - because surely this is Arceus punishing him for his past sins and she just happened to get caught in the crossfire.

27. Their guilty pleasure

Volo's obsession with her.

It's secretly everything she's ever wanted, and once Akari has confirmed it's entirely sincere and unwavering, she becomes just as obsessive over him.

28. How they feel about [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

She holds a deep admiration and respect for Touko, due to her complete lack of hesitance in expressing her thoughts and feelings.

29. Eating habits

Prefers and has a high tolerance for spicier flavors.

She even crafts a new type of Lure Cake made specifically for attracting Fire-types (not that people are supposed to eat those).

30. Sleeping habits

Akari believes that her day begins whenever she wakes up, so she can be an absolute beast when forced to leave the comfort of her bed or futon.

31. If they had a Tumblr Tacklr what would it look like?

Her account is one the Sinnoh League required her to make in order to answer questions for interviews, and that would be the only thing she ever uses it for.

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Whenever Sariel, her Alpha Togekiss, slurps someone (gives them a big, slobbery lick).

It takes every last ounce of her willpower to keep her composure sometimes, depending on how extreme the reaction is of the person slurped.

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

Her wedding day and the morning after.

Akari doesn't quite understand why she would be crying when she's never felt happier before.

34. How they react when they are feeling X emotion (sad, angry, excited, scared, etc.—can specify as many as you like)

Sometimes Akari smiles or chuckles when she isn't necessarily happy.

35. Their idea of a perfect day

An afternoon spent in the arms of her beloved as their Pokémon play together outside - with no annoying calls from the League demanding her presence.

36. Their favorite season

Hisui/Sinnoh doesn't experience any seasons due to having a cool climate year-round, but Akari does prefer cooler temperatures over warmer ones.

37. What they really think about themselves

A strong trainer and someone worthy of respect, but otherwise no one particularly extraordinary.

This is reflected in the first act of 'What Once We Were', Akari is described in a decidedly neutral manner, but come the second act when the story shifts to Volo's perspective, his adoration towards her is so powerful it affects the narration.

38. Favorite holiday

January 12th, the day diamond dust always falls on Snowpoint City.

39. Favorite game

I feel as though Yume Nikki and all its various fangames are something she would enjoy.

40. Favorite book

The Curse of Mankey Island (half-joking)

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be?

Her beloved~

But, if her lover isn't an option, her dear friend and fellow sister Touko.

42. 3 comfort items

Her Buneary Poké Doll, Old Gateau, and apparently Wheatley.

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

Her favorites are Tamato Berries, Jubilife Muffins, and as previously mentioned Old Gateau.

She dislikes extremely bitter berries, Coconut Curry, and anything Irida cooks.

44. Their happiest memory

Akari doesn't have one in particular that she would place above the others: choosing her starter ad setting out on her journey with Jun and Kouki, becoming the new Champion of Sinnoh, meeting other girls like her at the World Tournament...

Receiving her starter in Hisui from Professor Laventon and finally feeling some sense of normalcy return, followed by her first encountering Volo, who was one of the few to show her kindness and respect without having to prove herself beforehand.

45. Their favorite celebrity

Haruka, current Champion of Hoenn and fellow Contest Star!

46. The person they most admire

Touko, as mentioned above, but she also holds a great deal of respect towards Kotone for her persistent warmth and kindness.

47. Their dream job

She's content with her position as Champion of Sinnoh and one of the strongest trainers in the world.

48. Scariest moment of their life

Volo's betrayal.

That moment was her worst nightmare brought to life.

49. Favorite toy as a child

Her Buneary Poké Doll, Alice, that Jun bought her with his own allowance for her seventh birthday.

50. A memory they’ve blocked out

Akari has forgotten everything about her father to the point that she can't recall his face or even his name.

She's fine with this.

[bundrops-n-fluffytops]

Ok I might as well dump these refs and bios for some OCs bc I wanna write something self indulgent but I need to give ya context

Hayven J. Crowe

- 15 yrs old

- Female

- Scarecrow

- Super shy, hardworking and curious

- Animal lover; cherishes her farm animals a lot

Tyra Graves

- 14 yrs old

- Female

- Human

- Energetic, passionate, and impulsive asf

- Absolutely OBSESSED with dinosaurs and fossils, will infodump to you all the time

- Best friends with Hayven

Hugo Graves

- 14 yrs old

- Male

- Human

- Intelligent, stoic, can be kinda crazy sometimes

- Mad scientist/paranormal investigator, obsessed with everything unnatural

- Also best friends with Hayven

[theartisticintrovert]

currently percolating an au idea in my brainicles, though i doubt I'm gonna do anything with it any time soon bc im a busy bitch lmao

the basic idea is persona 5 swap au, but instead of akechi/joker swap it's akechi/futaba swap. more details under the cut (also big huge thanks to my bud @lunagalemaster for enabling me <3)

so this actually spawned bc i have milgram project brainrot rn, and while listening to mu's first audio drama some things about persona 5 clicked. luna mentioned that wakaba being so caring towards futaba despite her being born out of wedlock is actually not the norm, and it's some pretty important cultural context we missed.

naturally, i made a joke that the real akechi foil was the futabas we found along the way...but actually it could work!

in this version, everything up to medjed is the same wrt palaces and such, but shadow madarame doesn't mention the black mask bc black mask doesn't exist. more on that later.

instead, he mentions a hacker that's been exposing and/or threatening people, doxxing them, etc. you guessed it, it's futaba.

she doesn't have leblanc bugged bc she doesn't live with sojiro, she lives with either her (less shitty) relatives or a random foster family, so she doesn't actually know who the pts are.....yet. mishima better hope his website security is beefy as hell, im just saying.

her whole plan is to dig up as much dirt on shido and the conspiracy as she can, then go to him in person, slap the information down on his desk, inform him she's his daughter and that she knows he killed her mom, and then basically blast all that shit all over twitter. she also has a deadman switch set up so that even if he kills her, the info still goes out.

of course, shido knows about her already, because genius or not she's still 15. he just doesn't care bc he thinks he's untouchable.

akechi, on the other hand, is sojiro's ward. he's not a shut-in due to anxiety, but more in a sense of "what's the point?"

he takes online courses, either highschool or college depending on if i wanna accelerate him a bit, so he doesn't see the point in leaving really. it's not like there's anything interesting outside, so why bother?

if you've ever seen either the mekakucity actors anime or the mv for lost time memory from kagerou project, you probably know exactly who im basing him on.

anyway he does have a palace, it's a void of foggy swamp with ruins scattered around, like futabas endless desert in canon. a charon-like figure drifts around the swamp in a little raft, and surprise! that's shadow akechi.

he's only got the one persona since he has no detective prince mask, and that's loki, though ill probably fuck around a bit personality wise. who knows, maybe his persona actually is charon lmao

luna said it adds a new dimension to the black mask/crow persona and i fully agree: depressed, directionless, passively suicidal akechi's first real full force emotion in YEARS? anger. like how futabas was determination and righteous justice, his is anger and spite at how society managed to convince him to drift through the life he fought so hard to have.

[politijohn]

Why do you think it's been so hard to convince people that racism is bad? I was raised in a stereotypical racism-lite household (i.e. black people don't vote because they don't care, black people just commit more crime, racism is illegal so it's not institutional, some police stations have bad apples but they're mostly good people, etc.), and my standard American public school basically taught that we abolished slavery and Jim Crow so we solved racism. When people told me that my opinions were racist, I said they weren't, because I didn't know any better. But when they explained why what I was saying was racist, I said okay and tried to learn more so that I wasn't racist anymore. When I explained to my parents why the things they were saying were racist, they said okay and tried to learn more so that they weren't racist anymore. Obviously we still have our implicit biases, but I think our opinions have changed for the better by a long shot. Maybe it's just that I'm neuroatypical, but I don't understand how someone could be told why their opinions are racist and just... say no? And continue with their day? And keep holding the same racist opinion and not giving it a second thought? And maybe double down and get more racist just for the sake of hurting the original person? Based on your other posts, you seem to understand people more than me (a low bar, but still), so I thought I'd ask you. I mean, I was only like 14 or 15 when I started learning about this stuff, but full grown adults seem to use their racist opinions as a badge of honor and I don't understand it.

Thanks for reaching out - You ask a good question!

I'm glad you mention biases because psychology is a huge factor as to why it's difficult to change people's minds on racism (or any polarizing political topic). This article provides some context on bias and explains one reason why it can be difficult to change someone's mind on a political topic.

Human mindsets are a product of environment and upbringing. The more both of these are aligned on a particular worldview (say, conservatism), it becomes increasingly difficult to think outside of that. For instance, it is easier to convince your college classmate who grew up in a progressive household that racism is a serious issue today, compared to your uncle who lives in rural Kentucky where he was born and raised, surrounded by conservative folks. There are always exceptions.

The interesting thing about conservatism is that it shuns change (in favor of tradition) which leads them to de-value scientific data or avoid challenges to their views. This, alone, makes any issue difficult to convince a conservative on because their worldview, itself is weary of change Liberal worldviews are more welcoming of ambiguity and unknowns.

There's a wealth of research on "liberal" and "conservative" worldviews and why they're different, which of course, influence the degree to which one sees racism as an issue worth addressing. Here are some articles: One Two Three Four. TL;DR, people are fundamentally motivated by different things. This is why it's important to tailor arguments to one's audience and frame the issue in a way that motivates them to your PoV.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Valek X Reader

Context: Valek saves you after Jack Crow attacks you. Valek heals you by giving you his blood, and threatens Jack after what he did to you 🧛‍♂️💚

You were left on the side of the road by Jack Crow. He had attacked you in sunlight so Valek couldn't be there to protect you. He beat you over and over, your face was swollen and bloody, and every inch of you ached with pain. You could barely breath because of 2 broken ribs. You were crying in pain, left on a road outside a disused motel, the pain was so much that you eventually passed out. When you wake up, Valek is holding you in his arms and carrying you into your bedroom. "Valek?" You say in a broken voice" "shhh my darling, it's alright" he says as he gently lies you down on the bed. His piercing blue eyes are filled with pain, but also anger as he looks at your tearful face. You try to talk to him, but the pain makes you stutter your words. "Valek...I couldn't...I couldn't stop him...he...he was-" Valek gently rests his hand against you cheek. "Shhh my darling, I know. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there to protect you. I promise you my love, I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. Now, you must take this, it will heal you" Valek says as he pulls up his sleave, and bites into his wrist. "But-but Valek" "dont worry my love, this will only heal your wounds. It will not turn you" Being a human, you told Valek at the start of your relationship that you weren't ready to be a vampire, and he understood that you wanted to wait. And you knew he would never do anything to deceive you, he loved and respected you too much. He helped you sit up on the bed and supported you by holding his arm around your back. He holds his wrist up to you, and you bring it to your lips. You thought it would taste horrible, almost metallic. But it didnt, it barely had any taste at all. You took a few mouthfuls before you felt dizzy. He moves his wrist away from your lips and wipes away a drop of blood from the side of your mouth. Your vision was getting blurry, but he places a gently, feather like touch against your lips. "You will now fall into a gentle sleep my love. And when you awake, you will no longer feel pain" his words are the last thing you hear, before you fall alseep in his arms. A few hours later, you wake up in the bed, and you feel no pain at all. Your broken rib is no more, and you touch your face, and feel no swelling or bruises. You get up to look in the mirror, and there isnt a single mark on you. "Ah my love. Your awake" comes Valeks voice from behind you. You go straight up to him and pull him in for a hug, and of course, he hugs you back. "You saved me Valek. Thank you. I dont know how I can repay you" he looks down at you and lifts your chin up with his finger to look him straight into those hypnotic blue eyes. "You are the love of my life Y/N. Your smile is all the repayment I need" you then both share a tender kiss. "Come my darling, you need to eat something. lets go out to the court yard with the others" Guiding you out side, you see all the other vampires doing their own thing. Until something strange catches your eye. You see a large car parked about 15 metres away, with someone tied up to it, covered in blood. Valek kisses your cheek before letting go of your hand, and walking over to the man. That's when you see that its Jack Crow! Valek kneels down to him. "You made a big mistake going after the love of my life Jack. You beat her and left her for dead. You caused her unimaginable pain!" Valek grabs his face in his hand. "You will know nothing but pain and torture tonight Jack. You will suffer for what you did to Y/N, and you will beg for the realise of death" Valek turns around and sees you smile and talk to one of your vampire friends. Happy, safe, and no longer in pain or danger. But Valek remembers the pain you went through, and what you felt, then he turns back to Jack. "I could have lost the only person I have ever loved tonight Jack. She is my soul reason for living, breathing, existing. You tried to take her away from me. And now...you will pay for it"