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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

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On Boschlow, Skarlow and imaginary moral superiority

Alright, before anyone wants to yell at me for putting this in the ship tags, this is less an “anti ship”-post and more of an “I want to have this conversation with shippers because I think it’s important to talk about this”-post.

So, Boschlow has always been a fairly popular ship in the fandom, which doesn’t really surprise me, because the whole bully/victim dynamic is just incredibly popular, no matter which fandom you enter.

As a person that got bullied throughout the majority of my high school years, I have thoughts about this dynamic being so popular in general, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss today.

Recently, there has been an increasing number of Skarlow shippers making art and writing fics.

What makes this so different from Boschlow?

Essentially... nothing, and that’s exactly why I felt the need to make a post about this.

I’ve seen a bunch of Skarlow shippers say they do not ship Boschlow because Boscha is an awful person, putting themselves above the Boschlow shippers and making Skarlow a “superior” dynamic, based on... what, exactly?

From my perspective, there’s exactly two things Skara has on Boscha when it comes to shipping her with Willow. One being, she hasn’t thrown trash on her—which is an incredibly low bar to set.

The other thing? Skara acknowledged Willow’s Grudgby skills at the end of WILW.

And that’s a scene that gets misinterpreted a lot. See, people take Skara being nice to Willow here as a sign that she’s a way better person than Boscha, that she’s changed, and so on and so forth.

But this is untrue.

What exactly is it that changes between the beginning of WILW and the ending of the episode, between Willow and Skara specifically? It’s that Skara has seen Willow is good at Grudgby. Grudgby is something of value to Skara, thus, Willow’s skills impressing her makes Willow someone worthy of being treated well.

The ending of the Grudgby episode isn’t everyone except Boscha suddenly magically being better people. They’re all still very much bullies. They’re just now seeing Willow as someone who is better than other people because of her skills—and should therefore be treated better.

Boscha isn’t as willing to share her imaginary pedestal with Willow. But that’s the only difference. All the Grudgby girls are currently still on that pedestal. They’re just seeing Willow as someone worth sharing it with now. If they saw someone being “weak” the way they thought Willow to be previously to the match, they’d bully that person the same way they did Willow.

This isn’t any of them being better. This is all of them behaving the same way they always have. Willow is just moving up in their social hierarchy.

It shouldn’t take being good at some magical sport, or being a talented witch, or whatever the heck, to decide not to bully someone. NOBODY deserves to be bullied. Even the weakest, least sporty witch of the Boiling Isles should be treated with the same amount of respect as any of their classmates. Your value as a person shouldn’t be defined by how good you are at something. You have value no matter what you are and aren’t good at. And that’s something Skara and the others still fail to acknowledge.

Also I think it’s worth noting that even when they were treating Willow better at the end of the episode, they didn’t go out of their way to apologize for how they’d treated her before. They acknowledged her skills and don’t at all comment on how they treated her previously to the match.

If it takes some huge effort from Willow and her friends for the Grudgby girls to treat her with even an ounce of respect, that’s not character development. Character development would be them changing their general behavior. Acknowledging the way they’ve treated others was shitty, apologizing for that and actually working on being better. Is there a possibility this might happen? Sure. But you guys basically pretend WILW is their redemption arc already fully done. You’re giving Skara and the others credit for something that currently haven’t even happened.

And the option of them ditching Boscha (which also currently hasn’t happened) wouldn’t be a redemption arc either, even if it could be part of one.

Cutting toxic people out of your life can help, but Amity’s redemption arc was that, plus her explaining herself to Willow and giving Willow time, and actually acting on her word of not letting her friends pick on her again. Amity making it up to Willow wasn’t that she cut out Boscha and Skara. It was that she not only promised to be better but acted accordingly, standing at Willow’s side when she needed her.

(And Skara not constantly being a dipshit when she’s in the background is not a valid argument for why she’s a better person than Boscha. Boscha is also a harmless character when the episode isn’t focused on her, e.g. in Covention & Sense and Insensitivity. That Skara isn’t actively bullying her friends—which, uh, most people like their friends? This shouldn’t be that surprising?—is not a thing that should earn her any points in being “nicer” than Boscha.)

Do I think it might be a bit easier to get through to Skara than Boscha when it comes to letting go of current behaviors? Possibly.

From the way their characters are written and with how Boscha refuses to acknowledge Willow as equal even after the Grudgby match, it’s fairly obvious that it would need some pretty major event to get through to her. There’s an extra step here with Boscha (needing to learn to acknowledge others as having equal value to herself) that Skara doesn’t need to take.

BUT that one step in what should be a fairly long journey for either of them is far from enough to justify one ship being better than the other.

From the way I’ve seen it written (and unfortunately also experienced it in the comment section of my own fic), a bunch of skarlow shippers like to excuse Skara’s behavior by entirely pinning it on Boscha, pretending she’s actually a great person and that it’s only her friendship with Boscha that makes her toxic—and also that Boscha is the only one that should be held accountable for everyone’s behavior.

I am not exaggerating, I got a comment that essentially said “this shows wonderfully that Amelia and Skara are actually good people that unfortunately met a horrible person that had too much control over them.”

This strips Skara and Amelia of any accountability for their actions. And the idea of Boscha being an evil mastermind that forced all her friends into doing things they never wanted is... quite frankly, stupid, and also untrue. Skara actively encourages Boscha making fun of Willow at the beginning of Understanding Willow:

In the same episode it’s also stated that Amity “let her new friends bully [Willow] for years”, which definitely includes Skara and isn’t just about Boscha.

Skara looks really pleased when Boscha takes Willow’s hair clip at the beginning of WILW, just appears bored and not at all sympathetic when she throws gum at Willow, and grins gleefully when Boscha suggests using the others as target practice later in the episode:

Also, in Once Upon A Swap, Boscha’s entire squad is messing with people all over Bonesborough. Skara is throwing monster balloons at the city when Boscha isn’t even present:

Not only that, but a very large portion of the episode has Skara and the others literally ditch Boscha in favor of an even meaner person (King in Luz’s body).

King states, and I quote, “Hey, impressionable youths! Under my command, you could learn how to do some real damage.” after unleashing a monster on the city. And the entire group cheers him on and decides to follow him.

If Skara was actually so much better than Boscha, why the heck would she run after someone that is worse than her when given the opportunity?

And here comes the thing that a lot of the Skarlow shippers refuse to acknowledge because they for some reason feel the need to have moral superiority over Boschlow shippers: Skara isn’t a nice girl. Skara is a bully. And Skara should be held accountable for her actions in the same way as Boscha. Saying everything she did was just Boscha forcing her is entirely untrue to canon and just a lame excuse to make your ship look better.

Boscha and Skara have both bullied Willow for several years. If you want to ship either of them with her, even if you just want one of them to be friends with her, that needs to be acknowledged and definitely not excused. Even if you treat Skara’s bullying of Willow as something she did only due to Boscha (which, again, is canonically complete nonsense), she’s still hurt Willow to pretty much the same extent as Boscha has.

That a person isn’t as into the bullying as someone else doesn’t make it hurt any less for the victim of the bullying.

No matter if you ship Skarlow or Boschlow, commit to the reality that Skara and Boscha are both Willow’s bullies. Quit pretending Skara is so much better than Boscha, or that she isn’t responsible for her actions.

She is just as responsible for bullying Willow for years as Boscha is.

I’m so sick of hearing how Skara’s bullying is far more redeemable than Boscha’s. It’s not. Stop declaring bullying that doesn’t get physical harmless. As someone who was “only” ever verbally bullied, let me tell you that after four years of not seeing that person I’m still scarred by it. Stop getting your head so stuck in high school movies. Just because not every kind of bullying involves someone getting shoved into a locker doesn’t mean it’s not harmful.

Even worse: the take that people are shipping Skarlow “because they realized shipping Willow with Boscha is inherently toxic”. Tell me again why this “revolutionary” movement deciding that Willow deserves better then turns around and ships her with another one of her bullies?

This isn’t about treating Willow better. You’re just making Boscha seem unreasonably evil for no reason, and treating Skara as her not at all responsible victim, so you can ship Willow with her and don’t have to acknowledge that Willow is a victim of both of their bullying.

This needs to stop. Skara needs to be held just as accountable as Boscha.

If a Skarlow shipper exclusively comes from a perspective of “I think their personalities would mix better”? Sure, whatever, they may or may not, but that’s a valid opinion to have. But don’t start shipping Skarlow because you think you’re being better to Willow than the Boschlow shippers.

This whole thing isn’t a movement to get Willow a better girlfriend, lol

Both of them bullied her. Both ships are bully/victim dynamics. Skarlow does not actually have any moral superiority over Boschlow. As much as you refuse to acknowledge this, these two ships share the same basic dynamic.

Stop pretending shipping Willow with one of her bullies is leagues better than shipping her with another.

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ckneal · 3 years

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Now, I’ve been around fanfiction long enough to know that in any angel-turns-human AU story, there is one question that burns brighter than all the rest: What about their first sick day?

Well, I’ll tell you this: That first year after the rapture, out of the two of them, Adam is actually the first one to get sick. He picks up a really, truly nasty, slowburn of cold about a month after bringing Michael home. And, aware that he had just taken a huge chunk of time off (convincing Sam and Dean to help bring Michael out of the Empty was not an overnight task, nor teaching Jack how to make a new human body from scratch), Adam initially tried to smother the growing ailment with over-the-counter remedies and sheer willpower, while this bug steadily asserted dominance, laying waste to his sinuses, building up pressure inside his head, and settling into his chest and making itself heard in his throat. Three days in, his boss finally sent him home because everyone knew, even if he was refusing to say that he was sick. Michael, of course, was relieved to see Adam finally resign himself to bedrest, even though the entire situation is a sharp reminder of the fact that Michael is no longer a divine being, capable of healing with a touch. He feels all the more useless when Adam, well-meaning but also speaking through a haze of cold medicine and the beginnings of a fever, tells Michael he should keep his distance, because who knows how badly his cold would hit someone with virtually no antibodies.

Adam then passed out for the majority of the day, while Michael proceeded to mope in the living room, feeling like he’d been banished, pretending to have something to do but really just moving things around the room that were perfectly fine as they were before. He’d given up, gone online, and scrolled past the third post on his favorite Supernatural site that he normally would have jumped to correct on their misinterpretation of lore had he not been so preoccupied (never mind that he still hasn’t actually read his father’s books), before it struck him that he does know what to do in this situation.

Adam had shared a lot of memories in the cage, particularly during the years right after Lucifer’s departure, when they were first alone together and Michael was more guarded when it came to participating in conversation. Many of those memories had been from Adam’s childhood that he had deemed “harmless.” And as such, while Michael was new to the practice of being around sickness, Michael actually did know how to take care of someone. At least, he knew how Kate would have taken care of Adam. While never having met Kate Milligan, Michael was aware that she had been very young when she had Adam and that she had raised him alone, that she worked often, and that as Adam got older, it became increasingly difficult for her to take time off from work to care for him when he became ill. But she would do what she could in her off hours.

One of those things was preparing meals in advance that Adam could pick from as needed. Michael wasn’t overly acquainted with cooking at that point, but luckily, Kate hadn’t been either. She would buy premade items from the grocery store and alter them at home. Adam’s favorite had been half and half peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, which had been made by purchasing dough for both confections and simply meshing them together before baking. Oddly, the more difficult item to find was the soup. It was canned, but Kate had stuck to a specific brand, because it had been Adam’s favorite brand during a brief period of pickiness when he was eight. It didn’t appear to be as common in the city where Adam and Michael had settled as it had been in Minnesota during the 90s. Fortunately, Michael had stolen Adam’s phone before going shopping, and a stranger he came across in the greeting cards section at the drug store showed him how to use the map function to locate various stores nearby.

Adam managed to sleep through the racket that ensued from Michael coming home and fumbling his way through what, make no mistake, could only very loosely have been called cooking--Michael managing to unsettle a tower of stacked mixing bowls and burn himself on both the stovetop and interior of the oven--Adam only finally waking up when his nose cleared long enough for the smells to reach him. Michael was standing by, and Adam very quickly found himself being pushed onto his back when he opted to sit up.

“Michael? Get out of here, you’re going to get sick.”

“Not if you don’t breathe on me,” Michael said, quoting a memory from when Adam was nine that he knew wasn’t strictly true, but did not particularly care. He had a jar of Vicks Vaporub in hand and was pulling Adam’s shirt out of the way.

“What’s that smell?”

“Dinner. Hold still.”

“Since when do you cook?”

“Since a half hour ago, hold still.”

Despite twice repeating the instruction, it’s only when Michael straddles Adam that Adam actually lays still. He continues to press for details though, because Adam does recognize the aroma drifting in from the kitchen, and while he doesn’t particularly remember sharing those memories, he isn’t so much surprised that Michael does (Michael’s recall verges on obsessive), as he is by the fact that Michael actually did something with it. In the month since leaving Kansas, Michael only very rarely left their apartment, and never on his own.

Had it not been for the fact that he was determined to wait for Michael to decide when they would be back on those terms, Adam might have forgotten he was contagious and kissed Michael right then.

“You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I wanted to.”

Michael only looked up from Adam’s chest and noticed the way Adam was looking at him when Adam’s hand settled on top of his. That was, additionally, the moment when it struck Michael he was straddling Adam, and that the last time one of them had done that to the other, one of them hadn’t actually been physically real, and that they hadn’t done what they’d been doing then in a fairly long time. Of course, it hadn’t seemed strange to him to get into this position a second ago, as, in terms of Michael’s projections, they had done a lot more than kiss, and their relationship with one another hadn’t changed at its core since, but in terms of Michael being a physically present being in a body of his own, they hadn’t actually. . .

“Michael?”

“Yes, Adam?”

“I’m pretty sure I smell smoke.”

And then all at once, Michael was scrambling off the bed, the moment hastily pushed aside in his rush to save the cookies (which were burnt, but a benefit of Kate’s “recipe” was that there was plenty of dough leftover for new batches). By the time that Michael came back, Adam had remembered that he was a breathing germ farm and subsequently put his bedroom eyes away, and Michael suggested they relocate to the couch and watch the obnoxious devil show that Adam liked (Lucifer) while they ate.

Of course, despite Adam’s gradually flagging efforts to keep Michael at a distance for the sake of his health, Michael wound up catching the cold and would spend the next two weeks buried under every blanket they owned while Adam returned the favor of taking care of him. Because Adam was right, he had no antibodies, of course he was going to get sick.

#domestic au #midam #this installment is so schmaltzy #i will own that #but you know what i'm travelling and i'm tired and i just wanted to write something really sweet #no shame

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 4 years

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prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

#destiel #spnstayathome #fanfic #fic #drabble #fluff #established relationship #fanfiction: mine

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mylutteoheart · 3 years

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Fic day 5: Is It Really Just Pretend?

I can’t believe we’re already at day 5 and I’m happy to share today’s fic. It’s a lutteo one and I’ve always wanted to write a fake dating au for lutteo, not entirely sure about the execution of it but anyway, there’s also a part 2 of this fic that will be posted on day 7.

Prompt: “You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do."

find my other fics here

Luna was sitting at a table in a restaurant and she began to wonder what exactly she was doing here. Simón was the one to convince her to go this restaurant for a blind date. She didn’t like it but after a while, Simón convinced her that she was going to love this date. She wasn’t all that eager to date, all she wanted was to focus on skating, to get better and get ready for the upcoming competition.

The longer she sat here alone at the table, the more uncertain she got about this date but she was determined to get through to this. After all, she didn’t let her hang her head that easy.

After a couple of more minutes of waiting, someone finally approached her table but she was too distracted by her thoughts to notice it. It gave Matteo the time to admire her, she looked beautiful in that dress. She barely wears a dress so it was a nice surprise to see her like this. He forgot about anyone else in the room when he looked at her and he didn’t mind. He’s liked her for so long and now his best friend offered him the chance to do something about it.

It was Ámbar and Simón’s idea to set this blind date up, Matteo knew Luna didn’t like him in the same way that he does and it was hard for him to show her how he feels. Of course, Ámbar told her boyfriend everything and they decided to set up a plan so he could have the opportunity to show her who he really is and how he truly feels. He wasn’t sure about their idea but he went along with it because they seemed so sure of themselves.

The nerves were building up inside of him the closer he got to her. He had no idea how she was going to react when she finds out who her blind date would be and he was scared that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant reaction. But he had to take this chance or else, he might never get one.

“Hey” he softly greeted her. He really didn’t feel confident at the moment.

The voice that greeted her startled her, she didn’t expect this but she recognized the voice immediately and she was clueless as to why this is all happening. She slowly looked up to confirm her suspicion and when she did, she was speechless.

Matteo fidgeted at the spot, her lack of reaction didn’t help the nerves inside of him. How does she feel about this entire thing? Is her silence a good thing or a bad thing?

Luna played with her fingers, starting to get nervous. Why is she getting nervous about a blind date with Matteo? That’s not possible. There’s no way she would get nervous because she didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. She’s pretty sure they don’t even like each other at all but she softly answered: “Hey.”

“Are you surprised to see me?” Matteo stood frozen on the spot where he was standing. The awkwardness could practically be felt by anyone sitting close enough.

She decided to be honest and answered: “Kind of. When Simón told me he organized a blind date for me. You were the last person I’d expected to see.”

He was kind of hurt by this but he appreciated her honesty and he decided to bite the bullet: “Are you disappointed?”

“I’m just confused” she took a break and tried to come up with the right words to say, “I just don’t understand why Simón set me up with you.”

He couldn’t hide the wince appearing on his face, this date wasn’t going well so far. “What I meant to say is that… I’m just confused” she had no clue as to why he seemed hurt by the possibility of not liking the blind date but she couldn’t find the right words to explain how she feels because her own feelings were confusing to her.

After minutes of silence and her deep in thought, he took a seat because his legs were getting tired. The situation was awkward but he wasn’t going to leave until this entire situation was resolved. This was his one chance after all.

After a lot of thinking, her face brightened and she seemed to have solved the puzzle inside her head. He waited for her to say something, he didn’t want to say something that might send her running for the hills. That’s the last thing he would want.

“I get it now” she jumped a little on her seat in excitement, “This was just a set up.”

He frowned because he didn’t know where she was going. His face allowed her to continue. “Simón and Ámbar must have done this as a prank since I constantly interrupt them whenever I see them kissing.” She scrunched up her nose at the thought of those two kissing. They really liked to kiss whenever they could. They had to have done this, she saw them whispering earlier that day and Simón didn’t seem convinced about what his girlfriend was telling him. It must have been her idea and he agreed to go along with it. Even though her and Ámbar were friends now ever since she started dating Simón but she occasionally decided to pull some kind of prank on her. It was harmless though.

Matteo was hurt and he tried to hide the pain on his face but he wasn’t sure he did a good job so he tried like he doesn’t know what’s going on. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head to answer him, she laughed a little, not believing the situation she was in. “We don’t really like each other so I don’t see another reason as to why they would set us up.”

He felt his heart breaking a little at her admission. He really had no chance, did he? She would never see him the same way that he does and the knowledge hurt him more than he expected. He had high hopes for this evening but they all went down the drain now. What is he supposed to do now?

Her face lit up with a mischievous smile and it made him curious. “What’s wrong?” he was a little worried seeing her expression.

“What if we get them back?” she asked, having come up with a great idea.

“I don’t know, Luna” the sadness was obvious on his face. He really wasn’t in the mood to play games at the moment but she didn’t know that.

“But it could be really fun. We should let them believe that their plan backfired.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” curiosity got the best of him. He really wanted to know what she was up to.

“Well, they sent on this blind date believing that we didn’t like each other, right?” she paused but continued without waiting for an answer, her excitement was too hard to contain, “What if we showed up acting all in love and such. They’d never expect that and I would love to see their faces once they figured that their little plan didn’t work out the way they wanted to.”

Matteo didn’t bother to correct her because if they did what she said, Simón and Ámbar would think their plan went exactly as planned. He was at loss here, it sounded so tempting to pretend to be together because he’d love to have a taste of what it would be like if they were, in fact, a couple. But it would hurt him all the more when he knows it’s all for show.

She misinterpreted the conflict that was obvious on his face and tried to convince him to do this with her: “You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do."

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up into her eyes, trying to find an answer to her suggestion. It didn’t take much to convince him when he saw her pleading eyes. She looked too adorable like that and he couldn’t resist her when she looked at him like that.

He sighed, he knew he was going to regret this but her suggestion was too tempting to turn down. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She stood up from her seat and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It took him by surprise but it didn’t take him long to wrap his arms around her. The dread was settling deep inside of him and he really hoped all the pain would be worth it in the end.

They sat there hugging each other for a while and he eventually let her go reluctantly, it was getting too hard for him to suppress his feelings. He needed some distance. She didn’t notice the turmoil inside of him and sat down across from him.

“We need to come up with a good plan to be able to pull this off” she said, “We should talk about what we’re going to do when we see them.”

Luna and Matteo stopped at the entrance of Jam & Roller. He was nervous about what they were about to do. He tried to hide the fact that his hands were trembling. They have never been physically close before except for a few hugs here and there but that was it.

“Are you ready for the show?” she asked.

He took a deep breath and nodded in response, not being able to say anything. He really wasn’t sure if he could do this without giving anything away.

Without a warning, she took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. Unconsciously, he held her hand tighter, it felt nice and he hoped they would hold hands for a while.

They stepped into the cafeteria side by side. They had to act like a couple from the beginning because they knew both Ámbar and Simón would approach them the minute they spotted the two. They were laughing and looking at each other lovingly, like they practiced. This felt way too real for Matteo, he just hoped he could control himself enough not to kiss her the way he’s been wanting to for a long time.

He didn’t see anyone but Luna so he was startled when her best friend greeted them with a big smile on his face: “How did the date go?” Simón skipped the formal greetings because he was too eager to know more about the two of them acting all lovey dovey.

Luna turned to him and gave him a smile, she put her hand on his waist and leaned into him. His heart skipped a beat at the contact but he ignored and put his arm around her shoulder, this act surprisingly came natural to him.

“It was great, we had a lot of fun” was the answer she gave and looked up at him and gave him a secret smile. It was going good so far.

“Really?” Simón was excited to hear this and he didn’t hide it which made Luna confused, she was expecting a different reaction from him.

“Yes, I loved spending time with him” Luna answered and rested her head on his chest. She had to admit that it felt nice, not that she was going to say that out loud.

Ámbar came to the couple now too and couldn’t contain the curiosity: “So, are you two dating now?” she hoped that they were, she knew it would make Matteo happy.

“Uhm…yes” it was the first time Matteo spoke up, he had the feeling she would see through him but he hoped they could keep up the charade for a little while longer. His nerves were acting up and he pulled Luna closer to him to try and calm down, she didn’t seem the mind and he was glad.

“That’s amazing” Ámbar patted him on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you guys. So have you guys kissed yet?” Matteo had the feeling her question had an ulterior motive.

Luna coughed, she hadn’t thought about this part. She should have figured that this was part of the deal when you’re in a relationship.

Matteo was frozen at the spot, how was he supposed to react to this? He hoped Luna would answer this.

“That’s a very forward question” she was at loss for words.

Ámbar just shrugged and said: “I was just curious. Shall we leave the lovebirds alone?” she turned to her boyfriend. She loved teasing Luna.

Luna sighed in relief, she was glad they were gone but she was still confused. They reacted differently than she thought and she was clueless as to why exactly that is.

“That was close” Matteo broke the awkward silence. He tried to stop the images of him kissing Luna in his mind. Ámbar’s question made him think a lot.

“I didn’t think about the kissing part” Luna admitted out loud, “I mean… I know it’s part of being a couple but I didn’t think about that when I thought about fooling them.”

“Well, we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. It’s not necessary” Matteo tried to reassure her, the thought of kissing him seemed to terrify her and his heart twitched because of it, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

When she though of kissing those lips of his, it surprisingly didn’t scare her. In fact, the thought of kissing him made her curious and nervous and warm, she doesn’t know why but she said without thinking: “I don’t mind that part”, she paused and took a deep breath, not believing she’s really considering this, “It would look more convincing if we do. Would you mind?”

She seemed hesitant but nothing was going to change her mind, she wanted to do this and she hoped he wanted to do it too. He scratched his temple with his free hand. He couldn’t believe that she wanted to kiss him and it made him happy and a little giddy. He knew he was going to cherish the memory of kissing her because they would never do that again when they’re done with their little act.

“That’s fine by me”, he tried to act cool about it but he was a nervous mess inside.

“Okay so we’re doing this” she said to confirm it all.

“I guess so” this was really awkward, he thought.

She nodded her head in determination and without a warning, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. He didn’t expect her movement but he answered the kiss the second he realized what was happening. Their lips moved in sync and he put a hand on her cheek and caressed his thumb over it. This was really happening. He rested his other hand on her waist and pulled her closer so it would be easier to kiss her. This felt like heaven to him and he didn’t want to ever let go of this feeling.

Her arms wrapped around his neck. There was no inch of space left between them and it oddly felt nice to her. The kiss brought out a lot of emotions and she tried to ignore them and stay in the moment. The kiss was slow and passionate, she felt no need to rush. She’s never been kissed like this and she liked it.

When they pulled apart to get some air, the turmoil inside of her started. She didn’t know what would happen next but that was a question for later. She focused on the guy standing in front of her, he had a small smile on his and she couldn’t help but return it.

Whatever feelings that came rushing up had to be figured out later because they still need to continue their little charade but she wasn’t so sure anymore that it really was a charade. She hoped it will all get clearer the more time passed but she wasn’t going to worry about that now. She had something to prove and she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

#soy luna fic week #lutteo #sl

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nojaemblog · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ AS TYPES OF YANDERE

Warnings: yandere(duh), manipulation, violence, toxic relationship, mentions of abuse, torture and death, nothing more(I think?)

Requested: yes

Kim Hongjoong

The domestic type

he would do anything for your happiness

If you want him to provide anything from domesticity to money, he would dedicate his life to providing all for you

basically a sugar daddy

hongjoong only becomes aggressive when the possibility of (Y/N) hating him arises.

If such ever happens, he becomes an absolute maniac, prepared to take (Y/N) away from every other person to ensure she could never love anyone but him.

Park Seonghwa

The manipulative and overprotective type

he has always got what he wanted

seonghwa isn’t used to being told no

same case with (Y/N)

you can’t refuse him

rejection is not a choice, not when he has all the power in the world

if he is denied in any way ,he’s ready to throw a violent tantrum

you simply have to love him and do everything to his command to live an “easy” life

Jeong Yunho

The worshiper

the most harmless type of yandere

he's fallen in love in an unhealthy, obsessive way, but he doesn't do anything insane about it

he'll try hard to become your lover, but won't harm anybody in the way

if you get a partner, he won't attack you two, yunho will be happy you found happiness, and for sure he still has hope that you choose him in the end

he want’s nothing but the absolute best for you

caring for you and worshiping your very being is just scratching the surface of the things he would do for you.

he worships you and will do anything for you

sometimes even without you asking

yunho doesn't even mind if you love him or not, or what will happen to him

killing, dying, committing crimes, losing respect of others, he'll do anything it means providing support to your infinite greatness

Kang Yeosang

The schemer

being with yeosang is a wild roller coaster ride

when he is around others he acts like a sweet and innocent boy, always showing his fake happy surface

when it was just you and him, his game with you begins

yeosang is definitely known to resort to one specific tactic to get what he wants from you

guilt tripping

there is almost nothing he can’t get you to do when he uses this manipulation strategy

he wins every fight and argument

makes you stay away from everyone in your life, and keep you from realizing the toxicity of your relationship

there is also the more ‘extreme’

he harms herself, cutting wrists, etc. in order to get your attention

this often happens when he's ignored

Choi San

The delusional type

he knew what he wanted, and that was his ex lover

she was his absolute ideal type

he didn’t want anyone else beside her ever in his life

but then she died

he went absolutely crazy without her.

san has been looking for someone like her for years

and he met you

you had to be her doppelganger, because you looked so much alike, and your personalities were almost identical as well

he just couldn’t help but take you in as a substitute, of course he did not tell you this

san would make sure to teach you how to be just like her.

he lived in his perfect fantasy world

san is just so clueless when it comes to you, he takes everything as a sign telling him that you love him, no matter how obvious to anyone else it would be that you’re uncomfortable with him

he even misinterpreted when you tried to run away from him, you were obviously just embarrassed, right?

Song Mingi

The selfish type

it’s only right that mingi should end up with the one he desires

so it’s only fair that he should go to any lengths to get you, right?

once you’re safely within his grasp, you’re the apple of his eye, and everyone knows that well

to say mingi is cocky is an understatement

he is far beyond that, mingi knew, and everyone else knew, he could and would get whatever he pleased

you might not like it, but nobody, even if they wanted to, could resist his natural charm

and when he realized he wanted you as his, that was the end of it

Jung Wooyoung

The obsessive type

clingy to a toxic degree

despite his ‘sexy’ image he craves attention and affection from you more than anything, and no matter who he has to fight he’ll get what he wants

even if this means hurting you, just so you’ll stay with him

of course you wouldn’t even be able to try to leave him, with the amount of surveillance he has in place

anywhere he goes he brings you along with, making sure to keep a close eye on you at all times

if you somehow disappear from his line of sight, which would be an almost impossible task to do, he’d flip, no matter the reason

nothing matters to him besides you so that should only be the same for you as well.

Choi Jongho

The possessive type

you were his, and he was yours

simple

this man could not stand the idea of not being the center of your universe, everything had to revolve around him

everything

you were never quite aware of how possessive jongho was until it was too late

the longer you stay in the relationship, the more controlling he becomes

soon enough, every single part of you is according to his own pleasure designer clothes of his choosing, your phone is wiped of all contacts except his own, just for emergencies

and of course there is no possibility of you ever getting a job or being independent of him in any way

you simply have to be his pretty doll that stays with him for eternity. not even death may tear you apart

#kpop #ateez #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez rections #ateez yan #kpop imagines #kpop reaction #kpop scenarios

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carnistcervine · 4 years

Text

AU Thoughts

So, in my AU where Raava adopts Zuko, I mentioned that there is still an Avatar, just not Raava’s Avatar. So I started thinking up some ideas for what the Avatar would be like if Raava and Vaatu were swapped.

I’m not 100% on these ideas, I might tweak them or use them for their own AU and come up with something else for Raava Adopts Zuko, but this is what I got.

If anyone likes these ideas or the concept, feel free to use them. :D

~~~

*There is an old myth concerning the origin of the Avatar, it varies from nation to nation, and even some nations have multiple variants depending on where the tale is told. But the basic rundown is this: Thousands of years ago, in an era before bending, when the greater spirits still roamed the lands and mighty beasts guarded the tribes of man, a human was banished from his home, forced to roam the wilds alone. Tales vary on why he was banished and whether he deserved it, some stories claiming that he was a dirty thief who got finally got caught, others say he was falsely accused of murder, there's even one tale of the man as an almost robin hood style figure who stole food from the rich to help the poor. The man survives in the wilds for a while, seemingly bent by the spirits to turn against his fellow man. He eventually goes on, traveling the world, encountering the eternal spirits. The tales are split on whether the spirits were lovers(cast in an eternal dance) or foes(cast in an eternal struggle), but all tales agree that there were two, a pale one who embodied the light and order of the world, and a dark one who embodied the darkness and chaos. The man attacked the spirits, reasons vary on why, some say he was tricked by the dark one, some say he simply misinterpreted their dance to be a struggle, some say he was just trying to protect someone else. Either way, the spirits are separated and one is wounded. Stories once again diverge on whether it was the pale one or the dark one who was injured, but the result is the same. The balance of the world is egregiously damaged by his actions, and as penance he is forced to absorb the dark spirit and suffer it for ten thousand years. For each mistake he makes, another hundred years are added to his sentence. He spends the rest of his life trying to atone for his mistakes, dying on the battlefield when he's old and grey. Being that his sentence is not yet up, he reincarnates into his next life, and the cycle of the Avatar begins.

*Most dismiss these stories as, well, stories. But they remain the only record of any kind of origin for the mysterious being known as the Avatar.

*As for the Avatar themself, they tend to do whatever the hell they feel like doing. Despite being possessed by a dark spirit, they rarely do anything that could be considered genuinely malicious. The Avatar's presence is often marked before a great disaster or tragedy. Leading some to call them an omen.

*There have been stories of Avatars who gave warnings that were ignored. Then stood by and watched the chaos unfold, smiling and mockingly saying: “I told you so.”

*Being as powerful as they are, there are measures in place to immediately locate the newest Avatar as soon as the previous one perishes.

*One consequence of finding out when the Avatar is so young is that new Avatars are often either snuffed in their cribs or abandoned as small children by parents unable to deal with the dark spirit haunting them.

*Should the Avatar be allowed to live and grow, they will eventually seek aid in learning to control their abilities. Whether they seek the aid in disguise or openly depends mostly on society's view of the Avatar at that time.

*Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom parents are the most likely to snuff out a baby Avatar. In the Fire Nation, having the Avatar for a child is said to mean that Agni himself is angry with you or your family and is punishing you. In the Earth Kingdom it is usually said to mean that a tragedy will soon befall one. Usually the means of avoiding said tragedy is by ridding yourself of the dark spirit and passing it along the elemental chain. In the Water Tribes, the arrival of the Avatar is said to be a sign of change. While it's not uncommon for the Avatar to be killed in it's crib, the usual tradition in the southern tribe is that the head chief raises the Avatar, and in the north, the head healer is set to raise the child. As for the Air Nomads, since it is in their teachings that all life is sacred, and children aren't raised by their parents anyway, Air Nomad Avatars are pretty much never killed young. Instead the Avatar is sent to be cared for and taught by the strongest and most spiritual master. Rather than try and snuff them out, Air Nomads try as much they can to be a guiding force. Leading the Avatar down a good path and hopefully curbing any vicious tendencies.

*While not the first, Yang Chen is quite notable for the peaceful era that her long rein achieved. As for how she achieved such a peace, well, let's just say there's a reason no one dares invoke her name.

*People became much more open and accepting of the Avatar after Yang Chen, however. When Kuruk's time came, he was treated very well by those around him. Times were peaceful, and Kuruk himself was mostly pretty laid back. Well, except for his competitive streak. He'd challenge anyone and everyone to bending competition, or harmless duels. He was also quite the ladies man, only eventually settling down with a woman from his tribe. When she died, he became cold and withdrawn, wandering the world alone and eventually vanishing. His fate unknown.

*Well, he obviously died, as a new Avatar was born, but his body was never found.

*With Kuruk MIA, there was a bit of a power vacuum. Criminals took full advantage of this and terrible gangs roved the lands, killing and pillaging as they pleased.

*At least until Kyoshi showed up.

*Kyoshi was legendary for her ruthlessness. She slaughtered her enemies without so much as a second of hesitation. Some sources say she bathed in their blood and wore their entrails as fashion. While exact details of Kyoshi's apparent brutality are hotly debated among historians, one thing remains clear. Her enemies died quickly, and the world feared her. She was the longest lived Avatar, and the world remained at peace for her reign.

*With the Avatar having a mostly positive reputation, the Fire Sages opted to let the newest Avatar, Roku enjoy his early years as a normal person. And to their surprise, he was very normal. He didn't have any apparent violent impulses, wasn't withdrawn(even if he did seem a little shy), and overall was very happy and healthy. Like in canon, he grew quite close to Prince Sozin and they enjoyed a good friendship. Roku's status as Avatar was very publicly announced at his and Sozin's birthday. While Sozin was happy to have such a being as his friend, Roku had mixed feelings on harboring a dark spirit within him. He saw how the people around him reacted, they feared him. So he tried his best to show restraint. He'd prove to the world that the Avatar isn't one meant to be feared. His training went mostly smoothly, with only the spiritual training having some... unfortunate mishaps. Eventually he fell in love with a woman that didn't fear him, they got married and at the wedding Sozin told Roku vaguely about his plans of world domination. Roku, uh, didn't approve. But didn't want to make a show, because it was his wedding. So he simply growled at Sozin that he didn't want to hear about it. Then, he found a colony in the Earth Kingdom. He and Fang nearly trashed it in a fit of rage, but he decided to show restraint and told the people to fuck off back to the Fire Nation. Terrified of the Avatar, they did. Roku went to go confront Sozin, they got into an argument, Sozin attacked Roku and a royally pissed off Roku leveled the palace, only barely spared Sozin. In full avatar state, with red glowing eyes and smoky darkness billowing around him, Roku roared at Sozin that if he so much as breathed at the Earth Kingdom wrong he'd string him up by his entrails. Terrified of Roku's threat, Sozin abandoned his ambitions. He and Roku didn't speak again until many years later, when Roku's home erupted. Sozin didn't abandon Roku, but Roku being old and having inhaled too much poisonous gas died not too long after the incident. Sozin stayed by Roku on his deathbed. Roku had grown to regret his harsh treatment of Sozin, feeling he may have judged his old friend wrongly. His last words to him were an apology. Then he passed on, the Avatar Spirit moving to the Air Nomads once again.

*Sozin misinterpreted Roku's apology and subsequent death as the spirits being on his side and thusly went back to trying to achieve his ambitions.

*With Roku's last breath, Aang is born into the Air Nomads. He's left under Monk Gyatso's care. For the most part, Gyatso finds that Aang is a very gentle soul. He enjoys having fun and playing around. They decide not to tell him his true identity until he's older. Aang gets along quite well with his peers and gains many friends very quickly. Despite Gyatso's protests that Aang must be properly nurtured to sooth the dark spirit within him, the Elders decide to reveal the boy's true identity at twelve. Aang, doesn't take it well. The thought of a dark spirit living within him is well, scary. To make matters worse, his friends abandon him, utterly terrified of him. Gyatso tries to help Aang, treating him the same and remaining his last support. Then, because Gyatso insists on letting Aang be a kid, the elders try and separate them. Heartbroken, Aang runs away.

*Sozin still attacks the Air Temples, but not in an attempt to kill them all or rid the Avatar. No, Sozin thinks that the Avatar could be used for his war, so the soldiers are ordered to steal away as many children as possible, while killing anyone and everyone that stands in their way. Aang is frozen, so obviously all of the captured youths are just airbenders. Sozin doesn't have them killed though. No, he has use for them in his war machine...

*The search for the Avatar continues for a fair few decades before they figure that the being may have simply served his sentence and vanished from the world.

*When Katara and Sokka find Aang in the ice, let's just say they have more than a few reasons to be suspicious of him.

*As for Aang, he opts to keep his true nature under wraps for as long as he can.

*Not like anyone is actually looking for him anyway. :p

#ATLA #Avatar #Avatar AU #EternalMomofLight #I might make this it's own thing #Because it's a pretty interesting premise on it's own I think

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starlightsoulwriting · 5 years

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Time By Heartbeats

Chapter Three: Monsters Under the Bed

A/N: This was going to be longer but I was taking to long so I just split it up. I’ve been working and getting ready for the fall semester, and I just had my twenty-first birthday a few days ago! *streamers go off, confetti falls everywhere*

Its weird trying to balance all of my hobbies, tbh, I wish I had more energy for everything. Anyway enjoy, R&R! I hope you guys like this chapter! Thanks for reading!

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. – Anais Nin

A knock at Mora’s door startled her out of her work, and in her surprise she knocked over the small ark of origami animals off her desk. “Come in,” she chimed, bending over and collecting her paper zoo.

Demyx peeked his head around the door, a laidback grin on his face, before walked in. “Hey! How’re ya feeling? I figured we could grab some lunch and I could show you around the castle.”

Mora breathed a sigh of relief. She was starving, “Yes, please. I’ve been hungry for a while but I’m too afraid of getting lost.” She smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “This place is huge.”

Demyx pat her shoulder as they turned to the hallway. “You’ll get used to it. I’m hopeless at directions, but after a few weeks I knew this place pretty well.” His smile was bright and reassuring, and jarring when compared to the cold atmosphere of the castle, “There are only a few places you really need to remember anyway. Our rooms, the lab, the kitchen, and the grey area are where we spend the most time - everything else’ll just come with time.” He perked up as if suddenly remembering something and turned to her. “Do you feel like playing some music later? I have a keyboard in my room.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, unused to people knowing things about her that she hadn’t told them. She’d played piano since she was five, and still practiced on a smaller electric keyboard in her room. Well, she had practiced. She doubted she would get much of a chance if what they were saying was true. It was convenient that he knew already, but still unnerving. Mora cleared her throat and brushed away her thoughts. “What do you play? Or are you more of a singer?”

Demyx’s eyes lit up, excitement clear on his face. “I play the sitar mostly, but I like to try a whole load of instruments. I’ve been trying my hand at the Cetera, but that one’s really tricky because it has sixteen strings.”

“You should’ve seen me when I tried a harpsichord. My notes were all over the place.” Mora spoke and looked out the windows as they passed. There was a bright, neon-lit city below them, but none of the sounds that should accompany it. No cars, no people or sirens, no animals that she could see. The entire city was still. Occasionally she thought she could see movement in the shadows, like it was restless. The odd flash of white would streak through the air once in a while, but she couldn’t get a good look at what it could be. Birds, maybe?

Hopefully it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

She visibly relaxed when they reached the kitchen and she could just focus on food instead of the eerie deadness of the city outside. They discussed music and how they had learned to play over lunch. Mora made a simple ham and cheese and Demyx made ramen. Later she would learn that it’s one of the only foods he eats - the others being chicken nuggets, rice dishes, various pastas, oatmeal, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Apparently he’s been that way since he was little.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” He started, blue eyes wide. And if it reminded her of her little brother at all, well, Mora ignored it. Thinking of home was too much right now. “I don’t remember my first week or so here but I can’t imagine that it’s easy.”

Mora sighed, setting down her water and wringing her own hands. “I’m not sure yet. This place is strange… quiet. It’s creepy. And this it’s huge, but there are like five people living here, why is it so empty?" She looked at the walls as if they would answer her questions. They didn’t. “And you don’t remember how you got here?” She cut herself off before she got farther. Maybe now wasn’t the time for her to list off all the weird things about this place.

“There are thirteen of us, actually.” He chimed, either unaware of her anxiety or ignoring it. “Fourteen now that you're here.”

She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, heart hammering in her chest. She knew there had to be reasons for this place’s oddness, but everything inside her screamed that whatever answer she came up with would be wildly off-base. But she hated not knowing more than she hated being wrong. “That’s still a problem. Only thirteen people living in this gigantic castle? Where’s everyone else? This place could fit hundreds.”

Demyx just shrugs, unconcerned. “Normal people? It’s just you. The dusks take care of the place for us. I guess there might of been a lot of folks here a long time ago, but now it’s just heartless and nobodies.”

Mora froze. “Are…” She swallowed the lump in her throat and steeled herself, hoping she was overreacting or misinterpreting what he just said. “Are you not normal people?”

“No-one told you?” He dropped his chopsticks and stood suddenly, pulling Mora out of her chair and running down the hall back the way they came, frantic. “God, I’m so stupid, of course no one told you, you’ve been alone!”

She struggled to keep up with him, feet land clumsily on the floor, but he was going so fast she nearly fell over with every. “Where are we going?” She shouted, gabbing at his wrist, pulling at his coat, “And let me go, Christ!”

He dropped her wrist like he’d been burned, stopping and turning on his heels to look her over like she was a fallen toddler being checked for scrapes. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” He placed his hands on her shoulders, panic flashing on his face. “I sometimes forget you’re not as strong as we are; I didn’t hurt you did I? I-”

“I’m fine,” Mora cut him off firmly, placing her hand on his, trying not to snap at him. “Just don’t do that again.”

All the tension left his body at once. Then he just started walking again, his hand still gripping hers. She quirked her brow, anxiety levels high and rising steadily. She was wary of what could possibly have him so worked up. She would let him hold her hand if it made him feel better, though - he seemed like a very tactile person.

He started talking again, this time more composed. “Zexion’s in his room, he’s better at explaining things than I am.” He looked sheepish. “I’m not so good with science stuff. Not like you guys.”

Zexion’s room was close to hers, styled with a “VI” in gothic font. Unlike a few doors they had already passed, this one was plain and undecorated, sporting the same white color as the rest of the hallways in this blinding place. Mora raised her arm to knock, but Demyx barged through the door with no fanfare before she could, and was met with a flying book to the face.

“I told you to knock!” An irate voice sounded from inside the room. “Do you want me to throw you into a sand pit in Agrabah?”

Demyx just cradled his face, whining and stomping his foot. “It’s important, I swear.”

“It doesn’t matter, you can’t just barge into my room whenever you feel like it.” Zexion started a lecture, but paused when Mora peered around the door, hesitant. He looked to Demyx. “Has something happened, or are you just bored?”

The blond crossed his arms at the accusation, but didn’t seem overly offended. Instead, he fixed his face into a determined, serious look that looked wholly out of place on him. “We need to talk to Mora about The Heartless.”

Three hours, twelve minutes, and two seconds later, Mora curled in on herself, hiding underneath the quilt in her room.

This was getting to be too much.

First, they tell her that “Hearts,” basically someone’s goddamn soul, are not only tangible, real things but that they can also be stolen. She felt her own heart pounding restlessly in her chest. The thought made her want to vomit, but she could at least control herself on that.

Apparently no one she had met in the past day had a heart, even though they seemed like normal humans. Zexion had said something about echoes still being sound, but fainter and harder to discern. It wasn’t an explanation she was comfortable with, though. She wouldn’t even have believed them at all if it wasn’t for the fact that they had shown her a dusk in person. Its eyeless face... hollow, onesie-looking, zipper-mouthed, twitchy bastard… she had nearly passed out. It didn’t have any insides. There was even one outside her room right now, sent by neither Zexion nor Demyx. She tried not to think about why it was there.

She just wanted to hide in her room for the rest of forever, or cut her losses and run, but the teenagers had been adamant that the literal monsters outside would actually eat her alive if she tried. That thought alone was enough to get her to stay put inside the castle, alone with her anxiety.

Apparently, Nobodies were harmless enough… to her, at least, since they listened to the Organization. The threat in that fact rung clear through her, though, even if there had been none intended. If protection could be given to her, it could be taken away just as easily. She had no intention of testing that out for herself.

Heartless, however, were completely fucking feral. They would only occasionally listen to others, so long as they had power over darkness (another complication in all of this which made her head spin.) Nobody here controlled the heartless. The only thing keeping her safe from them was the cold, barren walls of the Castle That Never Was, and a measly leather coat with magic that hid her from them.

They had been the writhing darkness she saw in the shadows outside...

Fucking hell.

#oc: mora #time by heartbeats #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction

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igotmysteriousmessages · 6 years

Note

Can I request the RFA+Minor Trio reacting when they find out that MC is actually still in highschool (17-15 y.o.) but only finding out at the party

Hi there!!

I mustadmit I debated quite a lot whether to take or not this request. It’s quite a lot outmy comfort zone but since I believe noneof them would take advantage of their MC after discovering this I decided Ishould give this a try… thought I must admit I felt quite uncomfortablewriting most of this because I’m around the age of the characters and duringthe days prior to the party they tell the MC things I would be scared/disgustedto know were told to a high school girl by someone my age.

They are ofcourse all platonic or a little romantic but always considering it as a futureoption.

Also Iwrote as they founding out about MC when they meet her on their respectiveroute (except for Vanderwood of course, for him I assumed something similar toSaeyoung’s but with more involvement of Vanderwood) rather that at the partysince the only ones that don’t meet her before the party are Yoosung andJaehee.

(Btw…if youplayed Dandelion you might get some Jieun’s route vibes because I love whatcheritz did there)

RFA+Vanderwood discover MC is still in High School

Yoosung

-Probablythe less surprised one.

-Also thesmallest age gap…4-5 years are a lot when you are on your early 20’s but not somuch when older.

-Still ablushy mess… he quickly remembers a few things he told you both in the chatroomand through phone calls that definitely weren’t ok. He apologizes a lot.

-Afterembarrassment dies out he doesn’t know how to talk to you…on one hand if hestarts treating you any different you may feel offended but on the other hecan’t keep treating you like you were his age.

-He is veryconflicted about his feelings for you so you two talk it out and decide to keepit at just friends at least for a few years.

-He ispretty ok with that settlement actually; it allows you to develop a long slowdeep thrusting relationship that you both know would eventually become romanticbut there is no rush for it… you guys are fine with things are they are.

Zen

-the exactopposite from Yoosung….Zen freaks out big time.

-He feelslike the worst human being in the world; how could he shamelessly flirt likethat with a young girl?

-He can’teven look at you into the eye.

-Big bro!zen mode: Activated

-He drivesaway every single guy that tries to get close to you, regardless if they areyour age or not. That includes himself…you’ll never catch him standing lessthan ½ meter away from you.

-During theyears to come he remains a fellow RFA and a good confident in case you arehaving problems…especially family problems. He makes sure you know that if youfind yourself in the need to run away like he had at your age his doors areopen.

-Also youmay want to be extra careful about being seen with him because you knowpaparazzi can be merciless and they may misinterpretate your relationship withZen.

Jaehee

-Sheseriously can’t believe her eyes. The girl that helped her pull her life togetheris just that, a girl.

-Since herroute is non-romantic she has less weight over her shoulders but she feels badfor burdening you with her problems.

-She stilloffers you to be business partner but she states she’ll take over till you tofinish your studies (both high school and college if you decide to do so) alsoif you want a part time job she needs the help.

-Also BigSis! Mode, she becomes the best adviser/role model/ confident/ emotionalsupport you can dream on. You know she is always there for you and that it’sinfinitely comforting.

-If yourrelationship evolves into something less platonic it won’t be till you are25-ish or something like that and even so she would be very doubtful.

Jumin

-Now it’swhen things get complicated….

-give him aglass of wine…scratch that give him a bottle.

-He wasn’texactly flirty with you in the chatroom but he knows he treated you like youwere his age, maybe a little younger but definitely not 11-13 years younger… hefeels awful.

-He mayhave pushed out his life entirely if it wasn’t for the situation you two metin.

-It waslate when you showed up at his house (it wasn’t Jaehee’s fault she didn’t knoweither) and it was way too dangerous to send you back to the apartment…he couldsend you home… wait a second…you’ve been staying at the apartment for days, doyour parents even know what you’ve been up to? Have you been missing school? Whyin the world did you follow Unknown in the first place?

-theinterrogation lasts what feels like ages. When he finally calms down you are a little annoyed and he apologizes forbeing so harsh but as the situation is so dangerous he offers you a room forthe night and to take you home in the morning.

-He remainsvery protective of you on the years to come but he ends up deciding that whathe felt for you at the beginning wasn’t love. He just cares for you as a fellowRFA member.

-Heprobably won’t question those feelings again till you are 26-27 y/o. and evenif he does it would be very difficult for him.

Saeyoung

-He is amess, like more than usual.

-He feelsawful that such a young girl gets involved in all the problem with Mint Eye.

-Hisprotective instinct kick in.

-It’s alsopainful…you are about the same age Saeran was on those photos he has…too youngto be going through so much pain.

-He pushesyou away with even more decision than in his route, you should be happy leadingthe normal life of a school girl, not worrying about the him and the mess ofhis life…also when he comes around and decides to put his faith in you he feelseven guiltier to burden you with his life story and to rely that way in theperson he should be protecting.

-Aftereverything gets resolved he distances himself a little, I mean he’d always beavailable to answer your calls and help with any problem you may have (anything…from“I had a fight with my friend and I need somebody to listen” to “Can you hackmy school’s system to make pass sports class?” and even “I argued with myparents and ran away, can I stay with you?”) but otherwise you wouldn’t see himmuch.

-Same asfor Yoosung, the age gap isn’t huge so I can see having no problems falling inlove with you after you reach adulthood and he puts his life in order.

Jihyun

-What thefuck did Rika do this time?

-The firsttime he sees you talking with Ray at Mint Eye he can’t believe his eyes…I meanhe is barely able to see but he is sure you are High school student, definitelyyou have nothing to be doing at that place.

-He feelseven guiltier than he is in his route. You are far too young to be involved withMint Eye let alone comforting him and helping him solve his problems.

-Tbhbesides that I don’t see much difference with his route because with all theshit going on there is not much flirting on his side on his route, if somethingis usually MC who shows affection to V.

-If the MCshows any romantic feelings for him he’d kindly remind them that he is too oldfor them but of course he’d be so sweet about it that you’d barely feelrejected.

-Same asfor Jumin, it’d take a lot of years for him to develop romantic feelings foryou

Saeran

-In allhonesty the first thing he felt upon seeing you in person was pity.

-You arearound the same age he was when he had been brought to mint eye, so young andinnocent and full of hope in this cruel world –insert more Mint Eye bulshit here-

-As Ray hetreats you as a fragile princess and pampers you big time.

-AsDark!Saeran he is even crueler because he sees himself in you; the way in whichyou claim Ray will come back and how you refuse to give up on him reminds himtoo much of how he used to claim his brother would come rescue him.

-once heregains control over himself he can’t believe how someone so young can be sostrong… he is also very ashamed of the way he treated you both as Ray andSaeran.

-He’d bevery doubtful of how to treat you on the first few days after escaping mint eyebut in the end I don’t see the age being a huge problem for him… he’d be reallyrespectful of both you as a person and of your age, also if you show romanticfeelings for him he’d be pretty clear that you are too young and he is toounstable for a relationship yet.

-But the bond formed during the time you spendin mint eye is strong; with time he starts understanding his feelings, you bothmature more and I can see him still falling for you a few years later.

Vanderwood

-What thefuck did 707 do this time?

-Like thesituation wasn’t bad enough; that “harmless” fundraising association of Seventurned out to be a bigger mess than their agency, his partner’s long lostbrother came back to destroy him and everybody associated to him and of top ofthat they have work to do if they didn’t want the agency to dispose of them. Hehad so many worries in the meantime, so when he met the RFA’s newest member? Itwas just too much.

-He took alook at you, lit a cigarette, took 2 deep breaths and then turned the cigaretteoff because he was in front of a minor.

-He takes itup to him to keep you safe from the crazy situation you are in.

-He talksto you about how dangerous is to take orders from an stranger in your phone, heteaches you self-defense techniques and is around you all time till the problemwith Mint eye gets solved.

-He won’tbe patircularly nice to you and his presence is always rather intimidating buthe does his best to not scare you more than you already are.

-He’d alsocontact your parents and school to give them a believable excuse of yourdisappearance so to no light up any alarms.

-If Zen andJaehee become your older siblings this man goes a step further, his yourofficial new dad.

#mystic messenger #mysme #Yoosung Kim #Hyun Ryu #Jaehee Kang #Jumin Han #Saeyoung Choi #Jihyun Kim #Saeran Choi #Vanderwood #...does anyone else get tired writing also these tags?#mysme headcanon #mysme hc

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bluethepaladin · 7 years

Note

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable.

and

and a few more.

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable.

Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.

The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.

Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go.

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr.

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me:

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good.

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show.

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes.

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving.

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it.

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting:

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom.

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships.

For minors, this is my advice to you:Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

#Unlike Bex I take my own advice and I have blocked her so she can't target me #but you never know with these ones #she can find a way #bex taylor klaus #anti bex #anti bex taylor klaus #voltron legendary defender #long post #anti shaladin #bexcourse

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shapedlikeafriend · 6 years

Text

here is my @danganronpasecretsanta gift for @enddeux !!! merry christmas navis !!!! and thank you for helping organize this lovely event !!!!!! i really hope this is to your liking >u<)/

Fujisaki fidgeted in front of the empty classroom door; or, at least, the classroom door which the message they got claimed would be empty. Of course, there was always the chance they read it wrong, or misinterpreted what it said. "Old building, 1-B classroom, 7AM" was a specific enough description, but it was so quiet and deserted... Their fists clenched tighter the longer they spent frozen before that doorway. It was way too likely they'll just bother a janitor or, goodness forbid, a teacher by barging in. Maybe they should wait. Maybe they should call Ishimaru and apologize for messing up again. Maybe they--

"Oh, g'mornin', kiddo," said, or more accurately, yawned Oowada, who looked an exhausted mess. "Thank fuck you're here; was startin' to think I came to the wrong place."

Oowada ruffled Fujisaki's hair, and they giggled. "Good morning, Oowada-kun! I was afraid of the same thing actually, eheh..."

"So..." His grip slid from their head to their shoulder. He couldn't help but smile when they wrapped their arm around his waist in return. "Any clue what the hell he wants at this hour?"

"No clue. He was pretty vague about it, which... probably means he's in mom mode again."

"Shit, man-- this ain't a good time to be nagged at..."

"You say that every time he does this, Oowada-kun," said Fujisaki, patting his back in mock sympathy.

"'Cause it's never a good time!"

The both of them made their way into the classroom, and the first image that jumped at them was Ishimaru. He was crouching near one of the whiteboard's corners, appearing to doodle little caricatures of the three of them in its free space. He was well into giving Oowada the fluffiest pompadour in the world before the sound of the door prompted him to erase it in a panic. "A-Ah, Kyoudai! Fujisaki-kun! You're late!"

"Sorry, Ishimaru-kun!," said Fujisaki, making their way to one of the frontmost seats in the center of the room. "Heehee, I love how you did my hair...!"

"Oh! Erm, I'm pleased to hear I could do it justice." Ishimaru's eyes darted to the floor, a sheepish smile unbefitting of a 'big tall authority figure' flashing across his face. Not that he seemed to mind. The others certainly didn't either.

"Was gonna say somethin' about how this better be worth it, but it already is," said Oowada, smirking and planting his feet on his desk after seating himself.

Ishimaru cleared his throat. "While I am flattered and thankful, I did not gather us here to discuss my... artistic endeavours."

"Can we, though?" Oowada folded his arms behind his head. "'Cause the way you were doin' it made it look like you do this often and--"

"Anyhow!" The squeak of Ishimaru's boots against the floor was almost loud enough to cover the snickering. Almost. "What I did gather us for is an emergency meeting!"

When Ishimaru next turned around, he was carrying his telescopic pointer (which he literally never left home without), and wore a much more stern expression on his face. "You see, you might not have taken notice of this yourselves, but I have been carefully analyzing your momentum and morale for your activities, curricular and otherwise, and what I've seen has made me concerned."

The pointer clacked against the left side of the board, which was peppered with concise, technical bullet-points relating to their grades and schedules. "One of the main sticking points that have caught my eye is the decline in your workout sessions. The general downward trend I've noticed in the two of you started when you stopped."

Fujisaki shrank onto themself, and they could tell Oowada tensed up as well. Ishimaru's eyes softened.

"Of course, these matters needn't be discussed if it's uncomfortable. However, what we must talk about is what we may do to improve things for you. And I'm not speaking as a Discipline Monitor, I speak as a friend."

"Is that what ya call it? 'Friend'?" Oowada quipped.

Ishimaru leaned forward, banging his hands on the table. "Kyoudai, I'm serious!"

"And I'm not?"

"I'm very sorry," said Fujisaki, fiddling with their uniform's ribbon. "I didn't mean to... mess up like this..."

Oowada tilted his head down and sighed. "It's my own damn business what I do or don't do with my time, but... I know this shit always gets to ya, and it's a dick move for me not to do anything about it."

"No, that's not..." Ishimaru placed his pointer on the desk and made his way over to them, gently kneeling and placing his hands on their shoulders. "I did not call you here to scold you. Your difficult times, whatever they may be, are not a 'mistake' you need to be held accountable for. The only reason behind this direct approach is that I know how... averse to accepting help you can be."

"Oy, I'm 'averse' 'cause I don't need it. I shouldn't need it. You didn't need to drag everyone out here at this hour for this, Kyoudai."

"I respect where you're coming from, Kyoudai, but I must disagree. Isolating yourself with your burdens is what led you here, and it can only get worse if nothing changes."

Oowada snapped his head to meet Ishimaru's eyes. "I don't know what the hell you mean by 'led here' 'cause I'm fuckin' fine,, alright?! I've been fuckin' fine; you're just fussin' over stuff that no one gives a shit about!"

"You aren't fine. You're screaming again," Ishimaru cautioned, his tone soft, yet firm.

"I..." Oowada hesitated. "...Ffffuck. Yeah, you're right. I've been... stressed."

Ishimaru squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then left him to swallow his pride in the comfort of solitude turning to address Fujisaki. "I assume the same goes for you?"

"Y-Yeah..." Their hands curled into fists atop their lap. "To be honest... I loved our workouts. They made me feel a lot more accomplished and strong, but... At the same time, I felt like I was so slow... Even when we made our sessions private, just..." They paused to sigh, shrinking further into themself. "Oowada-kun was so, so far ahead, I couldn't stop the thoughts from making me feel small."

Oowada grunted and shifted to face the both of them. "Dunno if it helps ya any, but..." He sat several moments in silence, as though he were building strength to say what he was thinking. He lurched to the side and slammed his fist into the table, making Fujisaki jump. This seemed to have given him the motivation he needed, and he began talking. "I was feelin' the same thing. Heh... You kept pushing through shit, even though you had the weight of the fuckin' world in your shoulders. Made me real pissed off at myself. Guess not being the strongest person in the room makes my thoughts flare up too."

Fujisaki shook their head. "But you are stronger than me!"

"Like hell I am."

"Everyone, please! It's not a competition," said Ishimaru, trying to take the reins on the situation again. "You have earned the praise and admiration of one another, as well as my own. Surely that means your strengths are at least valid, doesn't it?" They groaned unenthusiastically.

Ishimaru thrust his hands behind his back and began walking towards the whiteboard again. "Hm. Well, we were able to talk about and isolate the problem, and that is enough to consider solutions. We have made considerable progress."

Oowada chuffed. "This kind of deep-rooted shit ain't somehing you can solve in a week, bro."

"Perhaps not!" he exclaimed, brandishing his pointer with great vigour. "However, I have faith that the both of you can begin taking steps forward very soon! You are both resolute and admirable individuals who've accomplished much more than you realize! And I will be here to assist you to the best of my abilities!"

"...Thank you, Ishimaru-kun... It means so much that you're willing to put so much of yourself into this." Fujisaki felt a smile tug at their tired face.

"Why would I not? I love you," Ishimaru said all too casually. Which he only noticed after several seconds of flustered silence had already tightened an iron grip on the room. "I-I, ah..." His gaze plummeted towards the floor.

"I... I love you too, Ishimaru-kun," Fujisaki was barely able to squeak out from behind their hands.

They both turned their eyes to Oowada, whose grunts were slowly rising to a crescendo. Before anyone could ask what was happening, he slammed his fist against the table again, this time breaking it clean in half. The sound of crackling wood ripped though the room, but was immediately engulfed by his screaming. "I FUCKING LOVE YOU TOO, KYOUDAI!"

Nobody had time to recover from the shock of what just happened (least of all Oowada himself) before foorsteps from the corridor and the door bursting open put them even more on edge.

Leaning against the doorway stood a concerned Yukizome, who slowly scanned the room and waited for an explanation that wouldn't come. "Are, uh... you guys okay...?"

Ishimaru stepped forward while the rest of the group fidgeted in silence. "Yes, Yukizome-sensei! We are, ah-- we are just... that is to say, this is--"

She held out her hands as if to show she was harmless and flashed a gentle, if not befuddled, smile. "No, no, it's alright; you don't look like you're up to anything bad, so I'll just leave you all to your... business? Heehee!"

With a quick "please don't break anything else so I can cover for you," she left, leaving the trio all the more red-faced. It felt as if eternities had passed before any of them could unfreeze themselves to speak up.

"...We probably need to work on our PDA, huh...?" asked Fujisaki, all but curled up into a ball in their seat.

"Noted," said Ishimaru, marching towards the teacher's desk with all the grace of a bag of bricks. "All in favour of finishing this meeting posthaste to make time to scream in utter agony and embarrassment in the comfort of our rooms, raise your hands."

Every hand in the room shot up, and the meeting went on, much quicker than Ishimaru had planned to.

Students gathered in droves after the final bell rang, turning the corridors of the school into a suffocating mess; a cascade of blaring footsteps and rumbling voices that made your brain itch. Luckily enough, if there was one thing Ryouma Hoshi was efficient at, it was slipping between the seams quickly enough that the noise wouldn't drill into his skull, and as it all faded out, the outside never felt fresher. He was never going to get used to a school environment again, he mused.

A buzzing in his pocket knocked the thoughts out of his mind. He tapped and swiped at his phone, and its notification took him to a message. A picture of Angie and Akamatsu, giving the camera peace signs, their cheeks sprinkled with the odd bit of chocolate or sprinkles. Beneath it, text read "waiting fr uuuuuu 💗💗". Hoshi chuckled.

He typed a response of his own. "skippin class to eat sweets? naughty naughty," he teased before putting the device away.

A distant voice perked at his ears. "Excuse me!" Surely, they wouldn't have meant him. He kept walking.

"Ah, excuse me!" He walked faster.

"With the adorable kitty hat!"

...Damn, it was an adorable kitty hat. Now he had to stop. "Can I help you?"

A tall schoolmate (if he even was tall. Considering Hoshi's... bias, he might have been "average") with a case of the eyebrows stiffly strode over to him. "Thank you for your time, sir! May I ask if you are Hoshi Ryouma?"

"Depends on who's asking. No offense." He didn't see a reason to be wary of this guy, even after eyeing him over a couple of times, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

"Ah, I suppose it is rude of me to ask before introducing myself. My name is Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Super High-School Level Discipline Monitor! It's nice to meet you," he said, punctuating his sentence by extending his hand with the tenacity one would use to slash a sword.

"Yeah, you got me, kid. I'm Hoshi Ryouma." Or used to be, he completed in his thoughts as he shook Ishimaru's hand. "So, what can I do ya for?"

Ishimaru bowed. "Please accept my invitation for a tennis match!"

"What."

He blinked. "A-Ah, I suppose some context is in order. You see, I've some students under my supervision that are lacking in motivation, and after discussing this matter with them, we came to the conclusion that getting started fresh on a new, unfamiliar activity or two would do them wonders! We decided that one of them could be a sport of some kind. And you are the Super High-School Level Tennis Player, a field in which all of us are deeply inexperienced in! And that is why I come to you with the humble offer for a match! At your leisure, of course."

Hoshi squinted. "Wait, run that by me again. You want to get started with tennis."

"Yes, sir."

"And you want one of your first matches..."

"The first, if that can be helped!"

"...to be with me."

"Yes, sir."

He smacked his lips. "Any reason why, or...?"

"You see, I thought getting them started with an uphill battle would be an efficient way to simultaneously humble and inspire us! Two birds with one stone, as they say!" The hearty chuckle that erupted from Ishimaru just then made it seem that he believed there was a universe in which this was a good idea.

Hoshi stifled a sigh. "You're a strange guy... But you got moxie. And you're earnest, too. I respect that."

"Thank you Hoshi-kun! My motto in life is 'Simplicity and Fortitude', after all!" Ishimaru beamed, teeming with pride.

"But you still got a long ways to go."

Hoshi left Ishimaru blinking in confusion and turned away, reaching for his breast pocket to grab a candy cigarette. He spent several seconds fiddling with it with his tongue before he spoke up again. "It's really reckless to approach a killer like me so casually."

He made it a point not to look at Ishimaru. He kept his eyes on the horizon, trying to allow the sight of blues stained by reds and yellows to distract himself from this awful conversation he had to have with every person that so much as looked in his general direction. But he could still feel the tension in the other's composure. In the way the breath caught in his throat. In the way he muttered as he searched for a response. He should be used to this by now. Why isn't he...?

"It..." Ishimaru paused to gather his bearings. "It would be uncouth of me to pry for details in whatever it is you're confessing to me. And I do not underestimate the weight it carries-- you don't read as the prankster or lying type to me, after all. However, I feel... inclined to remind you that you are not the only one standing here with stains in your past. And the fact alone that this school trusts you enough to have you on campus should tell you that I should be able to follow suit with a clear conscience. Even if it weren't, your being here alone is a step forward!"

Hoshi faced him again, brows quirked in curiosity. "You sound like you speak from experience."

"My lips are a tomb, but I will confess you might be right," he said, placing his hands on his hips.

"Hm. Well." Hoshi started, but the look in Ishimaru's eyes gave him pause. He was about to brush this entire ordeal off cold turkey, but... he could still feel his enthusiasm shining through his bright red glare, even in spite of the solemn mist that shrouded it. It was the kind of aura that would have surged energy through his body in an instant in a past life. "I'll be busy for a tick, but how's about I keep you updated?" Saying no proved to be too tall an order.

Ishimaru gasped and bowed again, moving so sharply he nearly slammed his head into Hoshi's. "Thank you very much, Hoshi-kun! We will be in your debt!"

"Hey, hey, take it easy, alright? I haven't done anything yet," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

They exchanged basic social media information and parted ways, as Ishimaru seemed antsy to attend to some non-specific business. Hoshi picked up the pace himself, taking too long for his liking to notice he was leaving the girls waiting. He shifted his saunter into a light jog, legitimately looking forward to talking about this with them. He wondered how Akamatsu was going to feel about this.

"Hoshi-kun, what do you mean?!"

So, not well, then.

"Exactly what I said," said Hoshi, who was tending to the yipping mess Angie had become from eating ice cream too fast. "You know I don't do tennis anymore, Akamatsu."

"Yeah, you say that, but just... You can't let an opportunity that sits on your lap like this just...! Slip!" She crossed her arms and pouted very aggressively at him. He loved it when she did that.

"I don't know where you see an 'opportunity' here. I got invited to something I didn't want to do, and I declined. That's all."

"'Didn't want to do'. You... Have you seen the nice, soft smile on your face when you gush about tennis stuff?!" she exclaimed, not failing to notice how he seemed to sputter at her comment. "Angie-san, help me ooooout..."

Angie jerked backwards, as though she had been jolted awake at the mention of her name. One of her arms drifted to her side, the tip of her index finger squeezing her thumb and seeming to glide in place in sheer concentration, and the other arm lunged at the table and shoveled another spoonful of bubblegum ice cream into her mouth. "Welp welp, God told Angie that yyyyyayayayaya!" She clutched at her temples and crouched back down.

Hoshi scooted over to pat her back again. "...Now to be fair, that's a good point."

"Hoshi-kun, this is serious! You butt!" Akamatsu rolled up a stray pamphlet into a cone and bapped Hoshi upside the head with it. She had to try really hard not to giggle. And as soon as the others did, the attempt crumbled immediately.

He groaned as he shuffled back into his own seat. "Look, this isn't the first time I've done stuff like this. I'm trying really hard to see it from your angle, but you're gonna have to help me here."

"Because," Akamatsu started, making impassioned, wild gestures, "some nice kid went after you and begged for a match, which is exactly the kind of thing that melts your heart, but you're still being too stubborn to just give in!"

"I... don't know about my heart melting," Hoshi lied. "But you have to listen. I'm done with tennis. It's not me anymore."

"You can't! Just drop! Something you spent all of your passion and sweat into for years like that! That's not how it works!" she scolded, poking his sides to punctuate each dramatic pause and knowing full well how ticklish he was.

"Nyahaha-- Kaede's right, Ryouma!" Yonaga joined in on the poking. "'Cause, like, if you don't get the love God gives you out of your system eventually, it overwhelms you so much, you explode!"

"Angie-san, I don't think--"

"Lovesplooooosionnnnnn!"

"...Nevermind; that's cute enough that I can let go."

"Yaaaaay!"

Hoshi gently grasped both their wrists, getting sick of stifling laughter. "Look," he said, jumping a bit when their immediate reaction was to hold his hands. "It's in the past. You're the ones who keep telling me I have to move on, yeah? So I am."

Akamatsu sighed. "That's not the way to do it, Hoshi-kun. This isn't healthy. I'm not kidding."

"Not a lot about me is, now is it?"

"No, it isn't, and that's a problem! Look, just..." Yonaga's humming disrupted her train of thought. "Are you--"

She shushed Akamatsu, which she rarely ever did, and kept at it with her eyes closed. Hoshi sighed, relieved that he could have a break from all the fierce pushing from both sides.

But that relief wouldn't last.

"You should train the both of us! God said so!"

"Yonaga, are you sure that's not just the brainfreeze talking?" Hoshi asked, absolutely perplexed.

"Nnnnnopenopenope! See, God is so serious about this, They're making Angie's head thump and burn!"

"That's definitely the brainfreeze, Angie-san..."

Yonaga put her hands over the other's faces. "Nonono, listen, this is super smart and divine! 'Cause like, Taka is with Chihiro and Mondo right now anyway, riiight?"

"...You lost me, Yonaga," Hoshi replied as he gently lifted her palm off his mouth, which only made her press harder.

"You're following him! Didn't you see his post?" Hoshi just gawked at her quizzically until she continued. "Yeesh, one sec!" She snatched her phone out of her purse, fiddled with it for a bit, then turned its screen towards him.

In it was a photo post; Ishimaru and another short kid were joined at the hip in matching tennis uniforms, arms wrapped around one another. A flurry of happy emojis were sprinkled all about the picture. And beside it, the caption read "HARD AT WORK L O L!!!!!!! AWAITING hoshir3 S RESPONSE TO OUR CHALLENGE". Hoshi was about to say something, probably along the lines of a heartfelt, genuine "what", but as he inspected further, the comment section was a far more concerning monster. Four comments from someone who was clearly Kaito Momota, all posted seconds apart from one another. "WAIT HOLY SHIUT?????????", "is he playing", "hoshir3 aRE YOU PLAYIGN??????????????????????", and, insightfully, "IUSDGHFIUSDHGIOSDJGIS".

"Oh, good grief," he groaned, pulling his hat over his eyes.

"Right?!" Yonaga exclaimed, not seeming to quite understand Hoshi's vibe.

Akamatsu took a gander of her own. "How do you know these guys?"

"Oh, Angie knows everyone! That's how you spread the word and stuffs!" She put her phone away. "So anyhoo, their thing is a group thing! And if our thing is a group thing too, it'll give more people the chance to do... like, things! And if Ryouma's coaching instead of pitching, then he can warm up to it from a safe distance with two cute girls he loves and adores and would do anything for and--"

"I'm not buying you another ice cream, Yonaga."

"But God is so thirsty, Ryoumaaaaaaa!" She wrapped him in a grim, grievous hug.

"And ice cream makes you more thirsty, and it hurts your head. Please spare God," he chided, resigning to his fate.

"Wait, she makes a good point," said Akamatsu, speaking up after being lost in the highways of her mind for quite a while.

"See, Kaede gets it; if we don't feed God, They're gonna get really angry and wreck our houses with rocks!"

"N-No, not that." Akamatsu clasped her hands together. "Hoshi-kun, if you're just watching us over while we learn and giving input here and there, it would just be a hangout like this one, right? And then you can see if you feel like playing with us! And either way, we'd rep you and kick some tail in your name! Doesn't that sound cool?"

He closed his eyes. "Do either of you know... the first thing about tennis...?"

Yonaga and Akamatsu traded looks, in silence.

"...Okay. Have either of you ever cared about tennis before right this second."

The silence somehow got louder.

"...And if we do this at all, can you be sure the sudden physical exhertion on the art club over here won't just kill you instantly."

"Well, if we do die, we could always play tennis with God instead! They told me They use stars as Their tennis balls," Angie chirped.

He leaned back on his seat, resting his hands in his pockets. "Heh, wow. This is the stupidest idea."

Akamatsu clicked her tongue. "Hoshi-kun, please... We're trying to help you. We care about you a lot, and--"

"Didn't say I wasn't gonna do it."

It took a second for the penny to drop. "Wait, really?!" Akamatsu asked, the sparkle in her eye practically lighting up the entire room.

"Hey, since you're pushing for it this hard... Let's get stupid."

"Yaaaay for stupid!!!!" Hoshi didn't have time to think before his entire body was swallowed by the girls' embrace. Not that he would ever complain.

But he would complain about buying Angie that other ice cream after all.

Ishimaru impatiently bounced his legs. He looked at his wristwatch. 7:13PM. This was excruciating. The tennis court and equipment he went out of his way to reserve was just sitting there, mocking him with how idle it all was. It had been so much trouble carrying all of it here by his lonesome, and now he got to watch it gather dust. 7:13PM. Perhaps he should have put a bit more emphasis on how absolutely important today's practice was. He was sure he already sounded plenty urgent, what with the five seperate reminders he had sent his partners. 7:13PM. Next time, he would erect a banner, with bold red text yelling at them to, for the love of everything righteous and holy on this Earth, move your legs at a reasonable pace. But all things considered, that might not work either. 7:13--

"Ishimaru-kun, we've been here for five minutes..." Fujisaki muttered, without looking away from their computer.

"Five minutes we could have spent practicing, Fujisaki-kun! Every moment from this point on is a precious opportunity for us to grow stronger, and it's foolish to allow it to go to waste!" he replied, crossing his arms in frustration.

They clacked away at their keyboard for a while before responding. "I mean... I get that, but personally I appreciate this extra time we're getting, eheheh..."

His brows shot up. "What are you up to anyway? It sounds like you are hard at work!"

"Ah, well, I'm..." They covered their mouth with a hand. "Actually, on second thought; Alter Ego, why don't you tell him?"

"Oh, yes, Master!" a voice peeped from their monitor. "We are currently in the process of compiling sabermetric data en masse on the top tennis players in the world to parse the most effective techniques and play styles! Then Master can study and emulate them!"

"Ah, I understand!" He didn't understand. "That is very impressive, Fujisaki-kun! And, ah, Alter Ego! You two are doing fantastic work, as usual."

Fujisaki giggled, gently butting their head against Ishimaru's arm. "Thank you so much! We're doing our best for you!"

He awkwardly leaned his head against theirs. They were right-- he really did need to work on this. "And that is more than enough! I am so very proud of you!"

Both students took a moment to enjoy each other's company and wamrth in silence. Ishimaru's worries about the time were all but whisked away by Fujisaki's radiant smile and sugary words. He slowly allowed his posture to relax and his body's weight to drift into theirs as they did the same. He could hear their hearts beating in sync. Something about that put a smile on his face he couldn't wipe away.

"Ah, Master, you wouldn't be able to render your opponents catatonic, would you? Or... turn into a demon...?"

They both shot up in confusion, stammering unintelligibly and making vague gestures at the computer.

"Uh... You guys alright?" asked Oowada, who they hadn't noticed had arrived a few moments ago.

"KYOUDAI, THIS TENNIS PLAYER CAN TURN INTO A DEMON?!"

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Fujisaki snapped the device towards Oowada. "NO SERIOUSLY, LOOK!"

The three of them sat together, yelling progressively louder at the ridiculous athletes Alter Ego was coming across. They had nearly forgotten what they came here to do in the first place until Ishimaru's phone hummed in his pocket, well into their riffing of the 'multiplying tennis balls' match. A message from Hoshi! "hey. uh i dont think im gonna be able to play for a bit but i can send my pupils over for a match whenever. that ok w you?" Attatched was a picture of said pupils, captioned with their names. Ishimaru's eyes widened. After hastily accepting Hoshi's offer, he lurched up.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but we have training to do!" He marched towards his equipment, drilling through a sea of dissappointed groans. "We must impress Hoshi-kun with our performance!"

Oowada paused. "'Hoshi'... Wait, the guy you at-ed for a match was Killer Tennis?! Get the fuck out of here..."

After doing some research, Fujisaki joined in on Oowada's daze. "H-He's... too good...! This is going to go so bad... Uuu, if I had known that empty account you were tagging was his, I would have said something..."

"Everyone, please," said Ishimaru, making his way to the tennis ball machines. "I would like to not waste anymore time, so explanations will come at our first break, but it's not at it seems. I have confidence that things will turn out alright! You can trust me!"

Oowada sighed. "Not like we coulda stopped you, I guess..." He dropped the sports bag slung around his shoulder to the ground, and from it, he took a rough, but embellished looking tennis racket. It was made entirely of wood and had no grip, with its shaft being packed with tiny, bold text instead; the same text that was printed into his jacket. Its bottom curved outward into a sleek diamond shape, rimmed by a small indented ring shape. And its nylon strings were decorated by a minimalistic orange komainu print, but it had enough detail that you could make out the dimples around its eyebrows, and the curl in its hair.

"Oowada-kun, your racket looks so cool!" said Fujisaki, with their own store-bought racket in hand.

He smirked. "Thanks. Thought if I was gonna do this, might as well get into it, y'know? Been a while since I practiced my carpentry or whatever too, and I got an urge... I know Kyoudai is gonna give me shit for skippin' class to make this, but..."

Ishimaru rushed over to place a hand on his shoulder. "I intend to do no such thing! Your craftsmanship is remarkable, and your efforts must be commended! Why, I can already see improvements in your technique!"

Fujisaki took his cue and followed suit. "Yeah, really Oowada-kun, this is really, really amazing! Specially since you made this so quick! I think if you made more stuff like this, people would be all over it...!"

Oowada's grin grew wider, and he pulled the two of them into the tightest hug he had in him. He loosened it a bit after they started gurgling.

"...so the basic idea is that you want the ball to either bounce twice on the other end, or bounce here," said Hoshi, circling around the outside boundaries of the court, "on your end when it first crosses the net, and you get a point, yeah?"

Akamatsu raised a hand. He pointed at her. "Shoot."

"Are we sure we can't do this at school? This place is kind of dirty, and there's people that keep giving looks..." As she said that, she could feel distant figures squatting in the grass turn their heads.

"They might be practicing at school. Would be kind of awkward to practice next to our rivals, wouldn't it?" He shrugged. "And don't worry about the looks, this is just Diamond Dogs' turf. They owe me a favour, so they won't try anything. I promise you're safe," he finished, giving her a thumbs up.

Angie twirls about in place. "Angie just asked God, and They said we can trust this place! As long as Ryouma slams anyone who gets ten feet from us into a garbage can!"

"That doesn't sound too much like trusting to me, but hey, I can do that," he joked, chuckling. "So anyway... The way we try to make that happen in doubles is we keep one person on the back to basically 'go long', and the other is on the front to pull a fast one on the other guys, right? So, remember that and try and get into formation. There's a line in the middle of your field you can use for reference."

The girls looked at the ground and shuffled about for a bit. Akamatsu placed herself at the very back, while Angie was practically shoving herself into the net.

"Is that what feels right to you?" he called out. They nodded in response. "Alright. Let's do a little practice then."

"R-Right now?" Akamatsu stumbled. "We barely know the basics! Aren't we going to just muck it up? Like... Very bad?"

"Yeah," he replied curtly.

"I...! Hoshi-kun!" she yelled, frowning at him.

He slung his racket over his shoulder. "What? It's how I did it too."

"A vote of confidence would be nice..."

"Actually, Angie likes this better! See, Ryouma made God really mad, so now They're going to bless Angie with super tennis powers out of spite! Just watch!" Angie furrowed her brows and tightened her stance with a glint in her eye.

Hoshi started tossing the ball into the air, and Akamatsu, too, steeled herself. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled, aiming her focus on the ball as best she could.

With a booming thwack, it came soaring straight at her. She bent backwards and swatted at it as forcefully as she could. It nearly tipped her over, and she could feel her wrist crackling as she swung it back. It flew in a flimsy arc back into Hoshi's court, who was quick to shoot it back before it ever touched the ground. Angie dove at the ball, smashing it back with a surprisingly mighty swing, but that left her stumbling. And before either of them had time to do anything, it came back, slashing through the air right in the middle of their field, and ended up slamming into the wobbly chain link fence in the back of the yard.

"Fifteen-love," he crowed wryly.

"Angie loves you too!"

Hoshi groaned and hid under his hat, clearly caught off guard.

"Would that make it fifteen-all?" Akamatsu teased, placing her hands on her hips.

He sighed. "...Moving on. Do either of you want to take a guess as to what happened here?"

"Angie thinks you scored!"

"Yeah, but why was I able to, Yonaga?"

"'Cause you're the Super High-School Level Tennis Player, and this is our first time?"

He pursed his lips. "That's fair. Akamatsu, any takes?"

"Well... I guess the ball was harder to hit than I thought..."

"Ooo! Ooo, Angie had that problem too," she said, hopping about as if that was something she should be proud of. The others couldn't help but smile.

"Well, okay," he said, making his way over to their side. "Let's talk about that. The way you're holding your rackets? It's forcing you to compensate way too much if I aim high. And your swings are way too wide; you'll run out of breath in no time if you keep going like that."

Hoshi stood beside Akamatsu and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, guiding it forward with the tenderness one would have with a glass sculpture. "The sweetspot-- the middle of the strings-- they should be level with your nose. And when you swing..." His other arm folded around her side, and he took a step forward, prompting her to follow. "You swing with your body, and you lean forward. It's easier on you that way."

His touch lingered for a moment before he stepped away. "Make sense?"

Akamatsu flashed a playful smile. "I might need you to show me again."

"Hmph... Let's finish our lessons first, then we can review whatever you like," he said, with a smirk of his own. "Yonaga, did you get that too?"

"Angie would appreciate getting hugs too, but she got it!"

"That wasn't..." Hoshi trailed off, and just held her softly, unable to say no. Angie motioned for Akamatsu to join in again from behind his back, and she complied, puzzled and excited.

He sighed. "...Why."

"God could tell you needed this and were too scared to ask!"

Hoshi let out a deep sigh, seeming to look for words to say. "...Geez. Heh, I think you can take credit for that one, Yonaga."

She giggled. "Angie's just following orders."

"Well, don't you think it'd make Them happy if you were proud of yourself? I mean, you can hear Their voice, but you're still here, on the same boat as the rest of us. And you say They want us to have a good time here, so..." The girls could feel him shrug.

Angie froze. Suddenly her embrace grew much tighter. "You're a very sweet guy, Ryouma." She must have needed this too.

The three of them melted into the embrace for what felt like forever. Hoshi was the one who made to break it, and even then, it sounded as if it was killing him. "We... can pick this back up later."

When they picked their rackets back up, they felt heavier and lighter, all at the same time.

"ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR! FEEL YOUR SPIRIT BURN THROUGH VEINS! THE FIRE THAT IGNITES YOUR CORE WILL LIGHT UP YOUR PATH AND LEAD YOU TO A BRIGHT TOMORROW! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

Gears turned and metal roared. The ground shook as walls shattered all around, and nauseating clouds of dust rose and assaulted their senses. It was a warzone. And yet, broken and battered, they stood.

"THE BLOOD AND SWEAT YOU SHED WILL BE THE BREADCRUMBS THAT REMIND YOU OF HOW FAR YOU'VE COME! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!" Ishimaru howled at the top of his lungs as he slammed another tennis ball back from whence it came.

"Bro, why the fuck does this thing even have this setting?! It's going too fast!" cried Oowada, mid-panting.

"I requested their best sports training device, and they delivered!" Three more balls crashed against the opposite wall, just missing the machine that shot them. "And I don't intend on resting until we've returned one million fungoes together!"

Fujisaki picked themself up from the ground. "C-Could... we maybe tone it... tone it down, please...?"

"Fine! A thousand blows it is! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

"T-That doesn't help much...!" They yelped as one of them grazed against their side.

"Come now, this should be no problem! As long as we plant our feet firmly on the ground, no snow, no rain, no tremors and no winds will knock us down! Counting our blessing and holding onto hope will--ah...?!"

Ishimaru froze as the machine came to a grinding halt, taking all of the stress and noise pollution with it. It felt very strange to be able to hear background noise again. But nonetheless, he was dumbstruck. "What happened...?"

Oowada stomped his way over to Ishimaru and hammered his hands into his shoulders. "You need to calm the fuck down, dude. Take a second to think 'bout how that's commin' from me."

Ishimaru cast his eyes to the floor. "I... overdid it again, didn't I?"

"A lot, yeah." He gave Ishimaru a couple of quick pats. "Now apologize like a man, don't ask me to hit you 'cause that's weird, and we'll be over it, 'kay?"

"Right... I humbly apologize for causing so much trouble," he said, with a deep bow.

"Great. Oy, Fujisaki, you cool with him?"

"A-Apology accepted..." they wheezed, a rumpled heap of sweat and strewn about limbs on the floor.

"Everything's cool, then! Now sit down, we're taking five."

The three of them huddled together in silence to recover from the intense physical strain they were put through. All they could hear was each other's heartbeats banging against their chests and the distant cawing of crows greeting the stars that began to twinkle above. None of them would admit out loud, but this had been the best afternoon any of them had had in far too long.

Oowada, who knew what happened to Ishimaru's head after he made a mistake, decided to break the quiet. "So... Any info on who Killer Tennis is gonna sic at us?"

Ishimaru's eyes widened as he fought back a stupor that was taking a hold of him. "Ah, that... Not much. I am aware that it will be Angie-kun and Akamatsu-kun of his class. But I know so little about them, let alone their tennis prowess. I don't recall ever seeing either of them attending any sports clubs or festivals..."

"Maybe they've been training in secret," Fujisaki chimed.

Ishimaru crossed his arms. "What advantage would there be to a secret tennis player?"

"I dunno, dude. Element of surprise for shit like this?"

"Maybe," Fujisaki started while they sat up, "a Tennis Revolution!"

"A revolution against what? People who are over 4 feet tall?" Oowada snorted. "Not too late to defect to their side, Fujisaki."

"I-- hey! That's mean," they whined over Oowada's guffawing.

He pulled them close and ruffled their hair. "Come on, let me have that; it was good!"

"Fiiiine, just because I love you..." they replied, grinning cheekily.

Oowada, to spare them of how sticky he was, let them go with a clap on their back. "Love ya too, kiddo."

They poked their cheek in musing. "Wait, the two of them will play us, right? Is one of us gonna get left out?"

"Ah! I hadn't thought of that... Astute observation, Fujisaki-kun!" Ishimaru cleared his throat. "Well, seeing as how I was the one who extended him the invitation, I suppose it would be fair that I partake in our first match!"

Oowada tilted his head. "Eh? I really wanted a piece of 'em, though."

"Well, surely there will be other opportunities! I think it would be good to impress him in this first outing!"

Oowada's brows shot up. "...You sayin' I wouldn't impress him? 'Cause, Kyoudai, I was kind of kicking your ass a second ago."

"Hah! You would make the mistake of thinking that! How innatentive of you, Kyoudai! Perhaps some private lessons are in order."

The moment the both of them got up, Fujisaki knew where this was going. "Guys..."

"I'm thinkin' you need that more, Kyoudai. Matter of fact, I could school you myself right the fuck now."

"Is that a fact."

"You bet your fuckin' ass it is, bro."

"Guys, what if I sit out this time...? Problem solved...!"

"I would be interested in seeing you pull off that miracle, Kyoudai."

"Why don't you bring it on then. I'm waitin'."

"Guys, I-I'm dead tired... Can we not do t--okay." They were throwing their shirts on the ground. This was a lost cause. They flopped onto the floor, exasperated.

The boys walked back into the field, their rackets gripped so tight they were emitting crackles, and they began a savage volley that went on.

And on.

Even after going back into the school building to get their laptop and a juicebox and coming back, Fujisaki could still feel them grunting while mindlessly pummeling the ball back and forth.

It was only well into what seemed like hours of passing the time playing with Alter Ego that--

"WHAT?!"

"Oh, look at that! You won, Kyoudai."

"Please explain?!"

Fujisaki looked over at them, and saw Oowada rubbing his neck while Ishimaru screamed in confusion.

"You won. Nothing more to it." He shrugged.

"K-Kyoudai, you clearly let the ball whiz past you! I--" Ishimaru made a series of incomprehensible noises as he held his head.

Oowada sighed. "...Fine. I just... The face you were makin' during our game... I wanted to see more of it, that's all."

Ishimaru fell silent, and a deep shade of red crept into his face. Oowada's was not far behind.

"I... Kyoudai...?"

They stared at each other for an embarrassing eternity. And, just like that, Oowada took off. "I HAD A THING WITH MY CREW I GOTTA GO."

"NO PLEASE COME BACK AND EXPLAIN!"

Fujisaki giggled heartily, and closed their laptop to chase after them.

Really was the best afternoon in a while.

When Hoshi came back to the field (with two bottles of water, as he was asked), it took a while to spot where the girls were. He finally spotted them sitting together by the fence.

"Sorry I took so long, there was this kid--"

Akamatsu placed a finger over a lips, asking him to quiet down. He turned his gaze to Angie, who he noticed was slumped over Akamatsu's shoulder, with an earbud in one ear, while Akamatsu had the other in hers. He snorted. "It's so weird seeing her sleep," he said, his voice nigh a whisper. "She's so... quiet and still. And unlikely to pester people to pamper her."

He handed one water bottle to Akamatsu, and she put it aside to pat the ground between her and Yonaga. And so he did.

"She's never out for long, so I don't think you have to worry. But this is also the most tuckered out I've ever seen her," she said, holding Hoshi's hand in hers.

"Hmph. We can let her rest. We've been making very good time, I think you earned this, at least." He grabbed a candy cigarette and popped it in his mouth.

"Don't leave yourself out, teacher," she whispered while nuzzling the top of his head.

"Come now, all I did was just listen for once... I mean." He paused to lock eyes with her. She already knew what was coming, and she was already enjoying it. Damn it. "...You were right."

"Yessss!" She pumped her fist in excitement, hilariously taking Yonaga's with her. Hoshi could barely stifle his laughter, moreso when the sleeping girl didn't even stir.

"No, seriously Akamatsu; I really needed this. This is... the healthiest I've felt in ages. Means the world to me that you'd go through the trouble..."

"It's not trouble, Hoshi-kun. I think you can tell we're all having a good time here."

He closed his eyes. "Hm... I guess you're right."

"Actually..." She paused, clearly mulling something over. "You know what, it should be fine. I think she forgot anyway. Can you take a look in Angie-san's bag?"

"Oh? Well, alright." He sauntered over to where he remembered it being, and sure enough, there it sat. He looked over at Akamatsu again for confirmation, and after she nodded, he began fiddling through it. It didn't take too long to find a suspicious looking box. "This what we're looking for?" Akamatsu nodded again, and he made his way back.

"Open it!" Akamatsu's anticipation was nearly bursting through her, and it made Hoshi pretty chuffed by proxy.

As he lifted the contents from its box, Hoshi's heart skipped a beat. In his hands, he held a glimmering, polished racket, carefully garnished by glitter and beautiful star patterns in blue and yellow against black and orange. It had such a fine finish and it felt wonderful to the touch, top to bottom. It was like no other object had ever felt so comfortable to have in his hands. But what caught his eye most of all was text along its rim that read "Still The Prince, 2011". Hoshi gawked in awe. "I... Akamatsu, what..."

"Just a little something we worked on together! You agreeing to do this was a huge step forward, and we thought it was worth celebrating, so..." He couldn't see her, but he could tell she was beaming. "Well, Angie-san did most of the work, but she asked me to play something from the room over to inspire her! And the text we came up with together!"

Hoshi dared not speak, because all of the emotions in his chest threatened to come gushing right out. He simply clutched the racket closer to him.

"...Hey, hey, Hoshi-kun..." She pulled him close.

He let out a strained sigh and relented to her touch, sinking into her arms.

"You're really strong, Hoshi-kun. We're so proud of you."

At that point, Hoshi couldn't hold it in anymore. A sad smile creased his lips as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Good grief. You're all too good for me."

"I can say the same about you, silly..." She rubbed his arm supportively.

"Hrmnghr... Ang' j'st woke up b't she lov's..." Hoshi felt another arm being tenderly draped around him.

The three of them cuddled together until their felt each other's breath slow. They had never felt this well rested before.

He didn't want this to be a thing. He really didn't. The last thing he wanted was for this to be a thing. And yet, here he was. On the scheduled day of the tennis game. In front of an audience of hooting and hollering classmates and friends. Hell, there were already chants erupting from both sides of the bleachers. 'Go-Oo-wa-da!' 'An-gie-san!' they cried, back and forth and in complete harmony. "Geez..."

"It's such a pleasant surprise to see so many people excited for this," said Ishimaru while he stretched at the side of the field.

Hoshi eyed Momota (who was pushing Saihara to help him) raising an obnoxiously giant banner with 'KICK SOME ASS KAEDE & ANGIE' that flailed in people's faces. He was getting a hefty number of death glares he was all too oblivious to. A red-haired boy and a cohort with long, shaggy hair from the other side were following suit with a sign for Ishimaru. A riot was going to break out in those bleachers in no time. "You could call it that."

"Precisely! And we are going to deliver a game that will meet and surpass all of their expectations! Isn't that right, everyone?"

"Angie just wants to have a good time," Angie said, taking lackadaisical licks off of a pineapple popsicle.

"W-Well... That's a healthy way to go about it...!" Fujisaki filled in for their partner in lieu of his confusion.

"But! We are going to try our best! Right, Angie-san?" Akamatsu tried to save the mood.

Yonaga hummed. "Yeah, God's cool with that!" She locked eyes with Hoshi. "...Oh! Oh, and me too, I think! Right?"

"You got it, Yonaga," he replied, giving her a thumbs up. She flashed a wide grin and swayed on the balls of her feet.

Oowada strode in. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, but you better give my team a challenge!" He yanked Ishimaru and Fujisaki in his arms. "These two are the hardest motherfuckers in the world, and if you let them just wipe the floor with you, we won't let you hear the end of it," he boasted.

Akamatsu cocked her head, crossing her arms with a confident sneer on her face. "Oh don't worry, we're more than enough for you guys."

"God will show you what Their wrath looks like," Angie droned, in what Hoshi sure was an attempt at friendly competitive banter. He was worried, but the boisterous laughter that exploded from Oowada made it clear it went over well.

"I like your team, dude! They're feisty!"

"You dont know the half of it, Oowada."

Fujisaki turned to look at their watch. "Um, I think we're about to start...?"

"Ah, delightful! Let us pay our respects to one another, and prepare to deliver a spectacle!"

Everyone exchanged hearty handshakes and wishes for good luck, and Yonaga, Akamatsu, Fujisaki and Ishimaru made their way to the field, while Oowada and Hoshi sat with the rest of the audience.

Without much cerimony, the game started, and the crowd roared, bursting with applause and whistling with quick escalation.

And as Hoshi watched on, he was sucked right into it. Each point his team scored nearly sent him into hysterics, leaping and screaming his lungs out. And each loss they suffered felt like a pang in his chest, and he berated himself for not having taught them this or that. He had never cared about a tennis so much. His heart was going a million miles an hour, and it was like he could remember what it felt like. To seize the moment, to look forward to tomorrow, and to live in the moment. It made him feel so warm and light.

It was nice to have a reason to live.

#Drsecretsanta2017 #danganronpa #ndrv3 #ryouma hoshi #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo oowada #angie yonaga #kaede akamatsu #chihiro fujisaki #stuff by me

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motorcyclegirlfriends · 7 years

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google jay smooth "how to tell someone they sound racist." you focused on "they ARE homophobic" and derail the entire conversation bc of it. now the video is focused on strategy to avoid pitfalls with an 'adversary', but i want your takeaway to be YOU are doing this to the internal queer convo too. 'phobic actions vs h'phobe not imp distinction to me, but YOU are making it the most important. just as focused as str8 ppl on labeling the incident instead of fixing problems.

It took me a while to get to this ask, so the context has changed a bit.

I think now, if you’re on tumblr at all, you probably know that Melissa is very actively being called homophobic.

People aren’t just saying “this action was homophobic” but “Melissa Benoist is a homophobe.”

When I initially prepared for this ask (I hadn’t watched the video so I couldn’t respond just yet, but I wrote a couple points and saved it as a draft) people were already saying this, but you might not have seen it.

People were saying it initially, before I had time to even wrap my head around the issue.

So I could have been addressing these comments. I could have been saying “these comments don’t make Melissa homophobic!”

I could have been thus replied to you, “I didn’t derail the conversation to if the cast is homophobic, they did!” or something of the like.

But the truth is, it’s a different matter entirely.

I understand that saying “they’re not homophobic” after a homophobic statement is missing the point, and often shifts the blame from the person who said the homophobic statement to the person who is telling them that they did. They’re ‘attacking their character’.

And you saw me discussing Melissa and Jeremy’s intensions, and perhaps thought I was saying something along the lines of “They’re not homophobic, so they can’t say homophobic things!” or even just, “What, are you saying they’re homophobic???? That’s not true!”

But neither hit the mark.

I already hold the belief that someone can say something mildly homophobic without the “label” of homophobe really applying to them and without them necessarily being bad people.

So I’d probably be making that point if I thought they said something mildly homophobic.

But I don’t think they did.

And I already know that people who have no ill will toward gay people can say and believe homophobic things.

The difference is, my assessment of this situation is that the appearance of the homophobia in the phrase, “They’re not gonna get together, they’re only friends” depends on what the speakers were thinking when they said it.

i.e. There is nothing innate in that phrase or it’s delivery, when separated from intent, that is homophobic.

The first thing you need to realize is that every accusation of homophobia from someone who is gay is not necessarily accurate.

Gay people have a wildly better understanding than straight people of what homophobia is, and should always be trusted and listened to, but every gay person is not always going to be right about this. This is why, within our own community, we’re arguing about this. We, as gay people, do not have an infallible understanding.

So now, let me propose a scenario in which something is interpreted as homophobic, but is not actually homophobic:

Someone walks in on their friend making out with someone of the same gender, and very emphatically exclaims, “gross!”

The gay friend, who hadn’t yet told their friend that they’re gay, reasonably supposes that this is in response to the kissers both being the same gender. It’s not the first time they’ve gotten this reaction to making out with the same gender, and it really just makes them feel like utter shit.

Later, the gay friend confronts their friend for saying that her making out with someone of the same sex is “gross.”

The friend then explains that they weren’t saying it as a response to them being the same gender, but because they see the gay friend like a sibling, and witnessing them making out with someone was gross for that reason.

They’re sorry it stirred up bad feelings in the gay friend (and probably should have realized that they might feel this way in the first place and then controlled their reaction), but they claim that they didn’t actually say anything homophobic.

But a gay person’s feelings were hurt because they’re gay and because of the larger state of society, and ‘people can say homophobic things without intending to’, so it can be confusing to people who are trying to figure out if the instance was, in fact, homophobic.

So if you’re still not convinced, let’s change the friend’s response to the confrontation.

Instead of “you’re like my sibling,” the friend says, “I’m a sex-repulsed asexual, so that kind of stuff really grosses me out.”

Pretty clearly just a misunderstanding, right? Calling the instance homophobic would seem pretty of out of touch with what happened.

So in these two kissing scenarios, the initial reaction of the friend to the kiss was the same, the feelings of the gay person after hearing the reaction were the same, the greater context in society was the same, and neither the ‘sibling’ friend nor the ace friend said “gross” because the kiss was between two people of the same gender.

So why is one so clearly a misinterpretation of what happened and the other still a difficult question to answer? What’s the real difference? What changed?

…Your trust.

You’re reasonably sure that the ace friend isn’t lying about being ace and you’re reasonably sure that the ace friend really knows their own feelings about the situation. That they didn’t say “gross” because they don’t like gay people and then misinterpret their own feelings as something else.

But with the non-ace friend, those doubts still lurk.

What changed was your interpretation of if the friend might have had homophobic thoughts.

If they did say “gross” because they don’t like seeing two people of the same gender kiss, even if they didn’t really mean to offend anyone, even if they don’t think that “not wanting it in their face” is homophobic, the instance was homophobic.

If they said “gross” and it had nothing whatsoever to do with the kissers being gay, it wasn’t.

In this situation, intention doesn’t matter, the not-gay friend’s opinion of what thoughts are homophobic doesn’t matter, but whether or not the friend has thoughts that are homophobic, does.

Of course, which thoughts concerning gay people are homophobic is not for straight people to decide.

Straight people don’t get to say, “Not wanting to see two girls kiss isn’t homophobic!”

But a straight person is allowed to say, “Not wanting to see my friend make out with someone isn’t homophobic,” because there is no conception or opinion of gay people involved.

Now, if there were other signs that pointed to the straight friend not liking gay people, one might conclude that the sibling thing is a cover.

But the nature of the event is still dependent upon if the person in question has homophobic thoughts.

Essentially: We get to decide what kinds of thoughts about gay people are homophobic, but we can’t always tell if someone actually thinks those thoughts.

We can determine that the thought, “two girls kissing is gross” is homophobic, but not whether or not someone has thought it.

And thus, because communication is complicated, certain phrases and actions can be read to mean something homophobic, but actually mean something entirely unrelated to same-gender attraction.

And this brings me to the situation at hand.

People have been interpreting the yelling of “They’re only friends! They’re only friends! They’re not gonna get together, they’re only friends.” as “You’re ridiculous for thinking that two women should be together.”

But that is a thought that is not actually expressed.

No ideas about the concept of wlw or wlw pairings were actually said.

All that was definitely said was that Lena and Kara aren’t going to get together.

There are interpretations of the event that give it a tint of homophobia. Such as the theory that the shout-y way it was said was their backlash to being uncomfortable with wlw content.

But it’s just a theory. We can’t call the actual event homophobic without knowing the truth.

And my personal read of the situation goes like-

Jeremy was responding to the crazy amount of attention the fanbase has given this romantic pairing that they’re not actually trying to make in a possibly frustrated (and attempting to be funny through purposeful over-reaction) manner. I also think the fact that he was putting on a show added to his urge to over dramatically yell something. I can kinda picture him doing the same thing to a different plot line that isn’t going to happen but is discussed non-stop, though I don’t think a similar situation would be very likely to occur for him to react to.

Melissa didn’t bring it up, and I don’t really see any hidden meanings in her going along with the perceived harmless joke. To me, it looked like she joined in with ‘We’re only friends!’ to play along in kind of a “I’m Kara and people keep asking me if I’m dating Lena but I’m not, GOSH,” way.

Later when they discussed the backlash Jeremy would get, they thought the fans would be angry because their ship wouldn’t be canon like any fans for ships that don’t work out are, not because the fans would think they’re homophobic. How utterly they missed that possibly just affirms, to me, that they weren’t even thinking of it that way- “this is a gay pairing”.

Plus there’s just no way they’d yell that in an interview if they legitimately thought that the ship being two women was weird. If you have ideas that are obviously not ’politically correct’ you know that they aren’t politically correct and are careful with how you present them.

The point is, that if (as we have established) the homophobia of the moment depends on if they had homophobic thoughts, if we don’t know that they did have homophobic thoughts, and if there are other reasonable explanations for their behavior, why is the default to assume that they were being homophobic?

The way I see it, we have absolutely no reason to consider this moment, or Jeremy and Melissa themselves, to be homophobic.

#supergirl #melissa benoist #jeremy jordan #supercorp #Anonymous

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sayonaramidnight · 7 years

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"Big Ol’ Honkin’ OC Question List-- Long Post Ahead!" - for Yuki: A 5, 6, 8, 15, 17, 18, 23; B 9, 10, 14, C 1, 5; D 2; E 1; F 2; G 6; H 7; L 2, 3; for Soll: A 5, 6, 17, 19, 24; B 9, 13; D 3; E 6; F 2; G 2 ,4; L 3; for Noodles: A 13, 16, 17, 21; B 8, 9; F 9, 11; H 4, 7, 8. Enojy :D (also, apprently, I have a soft spot for that annoying little... I mean, Yuki)

Do you know how I missed them? Do you? I bet you do :D

Yuki

A5. Are they good at handling change in their life?

…Relatively? Most of the time she just goes with the flow, waiting to see what happens next. It wasn’t always like this - after her parents’ death she might have fallen apart if her surrogate aunt hadn’t been there for her (or maybe not - we’ll never know for sure), but she has hardened since then. And, well, getting involved with the Platinum Chip turned out to be THE change, the one she really looked forward to.

A6. Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”

She always believes her interpretation of reality is right. And the most interesting.

A8. Is your OC a martyr?

No, hell no. She won’t sacrifice herself, she will play to win and probably outplay you.

A15. Is your character observant?

Depends. She does notice things, but often misinterprets them, especially when it comes to her friends. She pays attention to her surroundings though, and usually can see through someone’s bluffing.

A17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

When she got out of Vault 34 alive. When she got out of the Securitron Vault and made Caesar believe it has been destroyed. Every time she wins a card game.

A18. Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

Not really and not really. It can be motivating at times, though.

A23. Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

Yup. She knows how to move gracefully, how to smile and flutter the eyelashes, how to dress up. Both for her own pleasure and to sway other people.

B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

DeFiNiTeLy RaNdOm. Also, bad puns. And “subtle” mockery.

B10. Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?

Yes, she does. And dirty, too. Her incorrigible aunt Amy taught her to appreciate it.

B14. Do they have people they are genuinely honest with about themselves?

Amy, when they meet (which doesn’t happen often these days). Cynthia - to some extent, especially when both of them get drunk. And Yes Man, because he’s enthusiastic about everything she says.

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Work for those who can pay (yes, satisfaction can be good payment too). Trick the assholes. And the boring people. Help the Followers and make Mum proud. Barter every time. Gamble for everything. Don’t hurt the innocent on purpose. Be true to yourself.

C5. Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

Will there be gambling?… But seriously, her morals and rules are flexible enough not to get broken. Much.

D2. Do they believe in an afterlife?

Yes and she’s pretty sure she’ll go to hell if she dies.

E1. Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Her mind is really sharp in a scientific-verbal-practical way and she’s a quick learner. She also knows when it’s good not to show it. And she’s really confident about her interpersonal skills. For good reasons. Sometimes.

F2. What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

Oh, you know exactly where it is. The very place Cyn doesn’t want to visit.

G6. Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

Mum’s her fairy tales and dad’s funny stories from the road (mostly about the people he met). Time spent with Amy and her son Chase in their awesome car. Vast Wastelands and long dreamy nights.

H7. What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically..)

This is quite hard to tell, for she usually falls in love with a moment rather than a man. Every moment is different and you never know what she will find interesting this time.

L2. What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Change. Luck and fate. Travel. Searching for a place to belong.

L3. Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

At first glance, she may seem like me? Maybe? You know, a ball of fluff? But in fact, she’s rather different than me and that’s why I find her so fun to play.

Sollanthi

A5. Are they good at handling change in their life?

She accepts change peacefully, in the Jedi way.

She questions it and tries to learn of other people’s points of view.

A17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

The day she became a Jedi. That was even better than saving the galaxy.

A19. What instantly irritates them or puts them in a bad mood?

More like “who”… Ezalb, her so-called rival who was Yuon’s padawan before her. She senses something ambiguous and unsettling underneath his calm façade - maybe it’s his tendency to mock a defeated opponent or his obsessive thoughts? She’s hesitant about whether she should help him or expose him. And that’s what irritates her the most.

A24. What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Vanity and pettiness? Those aren’t very Jedi-like traits after all… But while she tries her best to fight the latter, she can’t really help the former.

B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Harmless pranks! And the fact that she doesn’t look like a prankster helps a lot. Also, inside jokes with friends and family.

B13. Do they have a large or small group of friends?

She’s friendly and charming enough to gather a large circle of friends around her. And a smaller group of close, fire-forged friends - her crew, master Yuon… hells, even Ezalb. And Junior, of course.

D3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

She’s a Jedi, so she believes in becoming one with the Force and finds that belief comforting.

E6. Do they enjoy learning? Do they actively seek out sources of self-education?

Ooh boy, she is… quite… geeky… More like frighteningly geeky, when given a chance. She believes everything could be useful at a right moment and simply enjoys learning new things.

F2. What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

She’s never given it much thought, but she knows for sure it must be a sunny place with lots of plants. And clothes shops.

G2. Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

Her beloved cousin Shanandi and auntie master Yuon, and little sis padawan Nadia. And you can say her crew is like a bunch of weird relatives. She does her best to keep in touch with her parents and the rest of the family on Mirial, too.

G4. What kind of childhood did your OC have?

Definitely a pleasant one. She spent half of it with her loving family and another half in the Jedi temple where she wasn’t alone and learnt a lot.

L3. Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

I created her so I could dress her up - while I don’t look good in dresses, she totally does.

Chalinda

A13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

She dislikes loud explosions. It’s an old war thing.

A16. Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

She learns best through trials and experience. I mean, she has learnt more as a young and frightened paramedic during the war than she could ever learn at the medical school. And her first years of smuggling, holy shit, what a sweet summer child she was back then. That was long ago, though. Perhaps she needs some new experience in her life.

A17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

Every time she gets Nico out of trouble and not the other way round.

A21. Do they make excuses often?

Oh gods, yes. For herself, mostly. For others, not as often.

B8. Is your OC considered funny? Do they believe they’re funny?

She believes she’s the funniest person in the Republic. She considers visiting the Empire and becoming the funniest one there, too. But in fact… she is the funniest when she doesn’t try too hard and let things happen accidentally.

B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

She likes situational jokes. And funny songs.

F9. Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

She’s very outgoing. Home is mostly for sleeping.

F11. What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?

Dancing (because she was born to it!). Playing with Polly (because she loves her). Watching silly romance holovids (because she’s romantic at heart). Adventuring!

H4. Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

Nope. Infatuation - yes. Lust - yes. But love takes some time.

H7. What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically..)

Someone to laugh, drink and have adventures with. Basically someone like Mhyra, but in a romantic way.

H8.What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

Gourmet food, nice music, lots of dancing, fireworks.

#grumpy-jedi #replies #misadventures of yuki the courier #swtor oc

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cassiopeiassky · 7 years

Text

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 42

Hello everyone! WOOO DONE WITH SCHOOL TILL AUGUST WOOOOOO!!!

What’s that? I’m supposed to be packing to move in 2 weeks? What? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!! LA LA LAAAA LA LAAAAA!

Plot: When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.

Word count: 2932

Warnings:

For the entire work: Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst. This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut. If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Attempted rape, violence, physical assault, injury, mentions of blood, If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie. I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests. Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

You read and reread the cryptic poem, committing it to memory before turning on the water. Suddenly Mikhail’s last comment makes a lot more sense…yes…you’ll destroy the evidence.

With your heart pounding violently in your ears, you hold the napkin under the spray, rubbing it together firmly after it is fully saturated. It starts breaking apart almost immediately, and you carefully make sure it’s nothing but a thin pulp before allowing it to fall from your hands and flow down the drain.

”I went into town today and what did I hear

But a story about a billionaire and Paul Revere

The spiders and red coats are coming for you

Hold on for dear life, they’ll get your love, too”

You go over the poem again and again as you stand under the spray. Mikhail must have written it that way so if anyone else were to find it, it wouldn’t make sense or would seem harmless. That’s good, but it also leaves room for misinterpretation. It’s not like you can just ask him what he meant.

Still, it seems fairly straightforward…

The billionaire and spider are easy to guess – Tony and Nat. Paul Revere? He was a patriot, so that must be Steve. Red coats…what could…Redwing! Sam, then. They’re coming for you and Bucky. That’s really all you need to know – they’re coming. A sob of relief finds its way out, but you put both hands on the tile in front of you and fight down the next one. If you start you might not be able to stop, and there’s no time for you to break down.

Mikhail clearly saw or heard something when he ran his errands today. But what? You want to know, God, you want to find Mikhail and beg him for details, but you know you can’t risk it – the Krakkens having this knowledge would not only interfere with Bucky’s and your rescue, but could be fatal to either of you…or Mikhail, because you know he isn’t going to tell them what he knows, and the Krakkens would consider this a betrayal worthy of a penalty of death. He put his life on the line to give you this message, so you need to make sure no one else finds out about it.

A heavy sigh escapes as you shrug your tight shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. You need to play this very, very carefully.

***

Dinner is hell. Well, it’s always hell, but this is a special kind of hell.

There’s no sign of the Soldier.

You haven’t seen him since you were ripped out of his bed this morning. Did they decide to kill him anyway, or did they send him out on another mission? Are they hurting him? Or did the creepy-ass doctor take him to another room to tend to his injuries? Not knowing is slowly suffocating you.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, and remind yourself of Mikhail’s note. Yes. Your friends are coming. Think of that. But don’t think of it so much that it shows. And the Soldier is probably fine. He must be. He has to be. They see him as a valuable belonging – they wouldn’t kill him with the surveillance video showing he’d never left his room, right? He couldn’t have killed those men, so there’s no need to execute him.

Right?

“Lisichka, you are shaking the table.” Anatoliy’s amused voice breaks into your thoughts, and as you process his words you realize that your right leg has been bobbing up and down with nervous energy.

“What? Sorry,” you mumble as you cross your ankles to try to keep still.

Nicolai regards you with falsely kind eyes. “You seem a bit…lighter…tonight. Less depressing.”

Gee, thanks asshole.

“I take it you are happy that your dear Bucky is here?” The tone in Grigory’s voice raises the hair at the back of your neck; he somehow manages to include malice, jealousy, entitlement, and pettiness in a statement that would generally be considered fairly harmless if uttered by anyone else. He’s dining here tonight, and the creepy prick keeps throwing snarky comments your way. “You know, lisichka, if you need someone to keep you warm at night, I’d be more than happy to help. Your Bucky doesn’t seem to know what to do to satisfy a woman since he didn’t do anything to you other than hold you. Perhaps you need Kapitan to give Bucky the direct order to be a man?” You want nothing more than to punch the sound of Bucky’s name of this fucker’s lips. That won’t go over well, though.

Anatoliy breaks in before you can form a reply, “Ah yes, that is right, we found the two of you all curled up together this morning. You looked so sweet.” His derisive snort causes the other men to start chuckling. “And yet he did nothing at all to protect you when you were ripped from his arms.”

You feel multiple sets of eyes on you, but refuse to meet any of them.

“He does not know you, lisichka, and you will continue to be a stranger to him until he begins to break through his programming. You are nothing more to him than a body to warm his bed, if he so wishes, and even that is allowed by our grace alone. Remember that.”

At this point you literally bite your tongue, and the sharp pain helps to keep you from focusing too much on Anatoliy’s words – if you do, you’ll crumble. It’s not like he’s lying; Bucky doesn’t know you right now.

“Doctor,” Nicolai’s quiet voice silences all the others, “why hasn’t the Asset…claimed…lisichka? It has been two nights. He is not acting the way you predicted he would.”

Mezger is silent for a moment as he pouts; he’s still salty about not being the one to activate Bucky. “I did not actually know how it would react to the availability of a woman; I could only speculate. It was never tried, so there is nothing in my uncle’s notes. It could be that it does not have the need to release any aggression yet, as it is still fully triggered.” He shrugs and wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin as he pauses for a moment to think. ‘According to its last communication it is finishing up with today’s mission, so her proximity to it certainly does not seem to be causing any harm.”

Your blood pressure rises noticeably when Metzger continually refers to Bucky as ‘it.’ You’d really like to stab him with your fork right now, and you find yourself gripping it tightly enough to turn your knuckles white.

“Actually,” Metzger’s eyes light up as he warms to the topic, “she did us a favor by going to it after the nightmare. My uncle has records of the Asset choking its handlers in similar situations, yet for some reason it did not harm her. It is very possible that some part of it recognizes that she is only a weak woman, and therefore is no threat.”

Nicolai only nods at the information as he takes another bite of his meal.

“I might know more if I could do a brain scan? And a few…tests?” Metzger looks hopeful, and you feel nauseated by his request. He acts as if Bucky is nothing more than a lab rat.

Nicolai doesn’t deign to answer, and you slowly let out a breath as you realize that Metzger recognizes Nicolai’s lack of response as a denial. Good.

“We will see what happens over the next few weeks,” Anatoliy breaks in. “It is not as if we do not have the time. Shall we start up a bet for how long it takes?”

His comments earn another round of laughter from your captors. You briefly wonder if they can feel the hate rolling off you as you close your eyes and focus on breathing. You don’t know when you’ll see them, but your friends are coming for you and Bucky.

It’s…it’s going to be okay.

Eventually.

Right?

***

The third night Bucky is in the room next to begins much the same as the previous two. You go to him when he screams, no longer hesitating in the slightest. Stupid move showcasing some spectacularly terrible life preservation instincts? Yeah, probably. You know this, but you just don’t give a shit. You need to be with him. Besides, other than when he was directly ordered to, he hasn’t hurt you. He’s been asleep, but still. It counts for something.

Slipping from your room and into his only takes a moment or two, but when you turn toward him after closing the door you almost jump out of your skin.

He’s awake.

The Soldier sits at the edge of the bed, slouched over with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

“Why are you here?” He doesn’t raise his head to look at you as he speaks, but of course he knows you’re there.

You take a moment to allow yourself to appreciate the sound of his voice; it’s still comforting to you and soothes your anxiety somewhat. “I just…I heard you scream. I, uh, I know you don’t remember, right now, but I used to soothe you after your nightmares.” The silence hangs in the room after you speak; he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move. “Do you want me to leave?” You ask the question hesitantly, wondering which way you want him to answer. This situation could easily end badly; you really weren’t expecting him to be awake.

He takes a moment before replying, “If I wanted you, I would have gone to you.”

His quietly spoken words hit you hard, and you have to swallow down the lump in your throat before you can respond. “Okay. I’m…I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” What else can you do? Your voice breaks as you speak, but not as badly as your heart. It’s not Bucky speaking, you remind yourself, it’s not Bucky. Bucky isn’t rejecting you. And this is for the best. Really. The Soldier might look like Bucky, he might be part of Bucky, but the man sitting in front of you is not your Bucky and you can’t afford to make the mistake of interchanging the two.

As you make the brief trip back to your room, you chastise yourself for your stupidity. That was a stupid move that easily could have gotten you hurt or even killed, and that would have ruined Bucky when he came back. And what had you expected, anyway? That someone who doesn’t know you – not in his current state, anyway – would just magically feel something and know, just know who you are to him? That he would somehow feel something beneath the multiple layers of torture-induced obedience and cognitive reconditioning, and break through because of true love?? This isn’t a Disney movie or a goddamn romance novel, for fuck’s sake, and reality doesn’t work that way.

You rest your head against the door after closing it, willing back the tears. Don’t cry; it won’t do anyone any good and will just give you a headache.

“I cannot wait for him to start breaking through his programming – that is when I really get to have my fun.”

You startle violently and whip around at the unwelcome sound of Grigory’s voice in the dark room. What the fuck is he doing in here?

“I am sure your Bucky will comply with every single order, no matter how against his morals, to keep you safe.” Grigory pauses for an eternal moment, and it’s quiet save for the sounds of your pounding heart and blood rushing in your ears. “But Kapitan will order a demonstration regardless, so he will know what he is risking if he chooses to disobey.”

You scramble to turn on the lamp on the nightstand so you can see where he is. Oh God, he’s right in front of you in the soft yellow glow, and moves closer. For every step he takes you take one step back, until your back hits the wall.

Shit.

“I do not have to hurt you to have you. I know how to get what I want without leaving any marks. Unless, of course, you want me to leave marks?”

“Get the FUCK away from me!” It comes out as a sort of breathless scream; the searing panic is making it hard to breathe. There’s no one to help; even if Mikhail came in right now, he wouldn’t be able to stop this.

He smiles at the terror in your voice, and his mismatched eyes light up with malicious glee. “I see the way you stare. I know you want to kiss me, lisichka.”

What? Is he fucking kidding? Indignation and disgust flood through your veins, and it tempers the panic considerably. “Grigory, the only way I would have any interest in kissing you is if it was with the business end of a baseball bat.” It comes out sounding stronger than you’d expected; good. The sound of your own voice bolsters your courage, and you stand just a bit straighter. If this is happening, you aren’t going to make it easy; you’ll go down fighting.

His jaw clenches as he glares at you before speaking. “I will enjoy breaking you, moya malen'kaya shlyukha.” Grigory looks you up and down with a lecherous sneer, lingering on your chest. You roll your eyes at the predictability of it, until he forces his mouth down on yours.

Oh, hell no. Gross.

He only laughs and begins to paw at you as you struggle to push him away, but he’s much stronger than you, so you viciously bite down on his lip as you simultaneously bring your knee up sharply into his crotch.

You almost lose consciousness when he hits you; you didn’t see it coming so you didn’t have a chance to prepare for the impact. Not only did he strike you square across the cheekbone, but your head also smashes into the wall behind you.

Crumbling to the floor in a daze, you’re surprised when you see the Soldier grab Grigory and punch him in the face, much like he’d hit you. Only when the Soldier hits him, you hear the sound of crunching bone before he swiftly takes the man by the throat with his metal hand and savagely pins him to the wall.

You blink, and then blink again to make sure you’re seeing what you think you’re seeing; your head hurts fiercely and your face is already swelling from the Grigory’s assault, making it difficult to see through your left eye.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yowls through his pain as he blinks through a splatter of blood. “Stand down Soldat!”

“You have no orders to harm her.” There’s no trace of Bucky in the flat, emotionless voice, but at this point you don’t really care whether it’s Bucky or the Winter Soldier that saves you from this creep. “And you are not my Komandir.”

“I am Kapitan’s second in command!” You see the Soldier tighten his grip, and there’s a loud wheeze as Grigory inhales. “I am entitled to do with her what I wish! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The Soldier slams Grigory’s head against the wall. Hard. “You have no orders to harm her,” he repeats before he tosses Grigory carelessly to the floor. “Or touch her. She was given to me, not you.”

Grigory glares at the Soldier as he slowly picks himself up off the floor. “Retribution is a bitch. Just remember that,” he growls around a mangled lip and a mouthful of loose teeth as he exits the room, presumably headed for medical attention.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whisper. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you hadn’t really expected that he would. The Soldier is still for a moment before walking to the door and locking it.

Uh oh.

He turns and slowly approaches you, casting an analytical eye over your face before lightly taking hold of your upper arm and pulling you to your feet. You allow yourself to be led to the bed, where he wordlessly directs you to sit. The Soldier doesn’t make eye contact with you, not even once, as he carefully inspects your face and the back of your head where you’d hit the wall. Seemingly satisfied, he rises and lets himself out of the room. There’s the sound of him opening the door to his room, a few moments of silence, and then the sound of his door closing. A few seconds later, you hear a series of clicks and realize that he must have gone to his room to retrieve a key, because he’s just locked you in. That’s…perfectly okay with you, actually, as long as Grigory doesn’t have a key.

Hearing nothing but the sound of your own breathing after that, you lie down as the last 10 minutes catch up to you. That was fucking terrifying, and you can’t hold the tears back any longer. Soon you’re sobbing and shaking, and holding on to one of the pillows like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. Then again, maybe it is.

The sounds of your crying make you oblivious to the door unlocking and opening, and you jump when you hear him speak.

“You’re gonna have a black eye.” It’s Bucky’s voice, but there’s no hint of Bucky in it. It’s disconcerting.

Scrambling to sit up as you wipe away your tears, you see that he’s holding something out to you. It takes you a second to focus before you realize that it’s a zip top bag filled with crushed ice.

“Thank you.” It comes out as a cross between a hiccup and a mumble; he doesn’t react as you take the bag and press it to your throbbing cheek.

You certainly hadn’t anticipated that he was leaving to get you an icepack. You also didn’t anticipate his next moves; the Soldier turns to lock the door before grabbing the chair from the vanity and pulling it next to the door. He sits down, crosses his arms and extends his legs. Seemingly comfortable, he closes his empty eyes. Apparently he’s staying awhile.

Round 1 Tags: @rogersxbarnesx @hellomissmabel @beccaanne814-blog @musichowler @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest @shifutheshihtzu @iamtal @passiononfire @jade-cheshire @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @lostinspace33 @gingerrootknits @callmebucky-doll @learisa @sammedrano @hardcorehippos @vaisabu @widowvinter @amrita31199 @bellenuit45 @agentraven007 @sarahjeaniejean @canumoveyourseatup-no @unpredictable-firecracker @ omalleysgirl22 @crazyliraz @shamvictoria11 @kaaatniss @lillian-paige @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @sexyseabass1231 @knittingknerdy @4theluvofall @howdoesoneadult

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky imagine #my work #when everythings made to be broken (i just want you to know who i am)#WEMtbB #part 42

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