#as well as her whole idea of people being skinny pale models

[luzxii]

uhhhh heres my hot take of the day

kooleen is uhhhh not good 😀👍

[whumpinggrounds]

Gotcha Day

my first non-Febuwhump piece of writing! here goes :) this is set before the last day of Febuwhump (You Have To Let Me Go) and i mean i really don’t need to explain much i don’t think bc it’s fairly self-explanatory but i am nervous so. yes

tagging @shapeshiftersandfire and @killtheprotagonist ! lmk if you want to be added/removed from being tagged it is a lot a lot of content so sorry about that

CW: lady whump, pet whump, dehumanization, memory loss, discussion of scars, past burns, implied non con,

Director Hammond’s office is much like the Director herself – alternately welcoming and terrifying, depending on what mood has struck her. Today, the curtains are open, the room is filled with light, and the Director has a bouquet of flowers on her desk in a vase. That’s good, right? All of that is good.

Mara still feels the nerves in her stomach buzzing like a hive.

“I don’t want to drag this out,” the Director begins, and Mara’s heart sinks. It’s some polite dismissal, something like that. There’s a self-satisfied little smile playing around the woman’s lips, and Mara tries to brace herself, folding her hands neatly in her lap and staring down her doom with icy eyes. “We have decided to let you train her. 067493.”

Stunned, Mara stares at the Director. There are no words in her mouth, no words in her head. She wants to speak, knows she should speak, but she can’t. An incredulous smile starts to curl up her face.

“Now, before you get too excited, there are some conditions.” Despite her lecturing tone, there’s a smile on the Director’s face – probably because of Mara’s huge ferocious grin. “She’s not your pet, technically speaking, not until the trial period is over. Obviously, she’s coming with what we call a factory defect, so you got very lucky there, otherwise we’d never let her go. She’s not fully trained, but honestly, Ms. Langford, we’re not going to spend the money and time to finish out the training on a model that we’re essentially giving away.”

“Yes.” Mara’s head is nodding on her neck like a bobblehead. “Yes, okay, that’s fine. That’s okay. That’s so okay.”

Amused by her eagerness, the Director nods. “Good. Now, primarily, Ms. Langford, we want to explore two things with 067493, and we feel that gifting her to an employee, while highly unusual, will give us an opportunity to answer some outstanding questions.”

“Okay.” Mara’s heart is racing. God, she feels like she’s going to pass out any second. “Okay, so, so, um, what are those questions, then? The things…what it is you want to, um, explore?”

The Director smiles at her, fondly, warmly. “First of all…” she pauses for effect, “some of the higher-ups loved this therapeutic aid idea. If it’s workable, there could be a strong market there. Of course, we’ve been trying to work a caregiver angle for a while, but the medical stuff is often just too complex for pets. This emotional approach could give us a very similar sector, but with none of the concern about pets operating medical machinery incorrectly.”

“Y-yes.” Mara’s breathless, dazed, struggling just to keep up. “Yes, definitely-”

“Now, not everyone is convinced, but enough of us think that it’s worth a try. Which brings us to our second objective.”

Here, the Director pauses long enough that Mara can stop focusing on her breathing and look up inquisitively. Finally, tentatively, she prompts her superior. “Ma’am?”

The Director shakes her head as if to clear it. “Yes, well. What we are interested in is…is…” she purses her lips, clearly wondering how to explain. “Pets who may end up living with someone they know or recognize from their former life. As you know, pets are prone to false memories.” Mara nods dutifully, despite knowing full well there’s no such thing. “We want to see if our Boxies can be taught and trained in such a way that they can be…reintroduced to their old life, or one like it, while maintaining good behavior and accurate memory blocks.”

“That sounds…” Mara swallows. “That sounds…difficult.”

“Indeed.” For the first time, the Director looks grim. “Of course, that’s exactly what you’re attempting with 493, and if you could pull it off…we’ve had some interest. People who want to…serve their loved ones in a more straightforward and simplified fashion.” For just a moment, Mara tunes out, thinking with a sort of horrified fascination on the kind of environment that would lead to someone wanting to erase themselves while staying where they were.

Or, even worse, Mara pictures someone coming in asking for a loved one to be erased, returned sweet and pliable and empty. She barely represses a shudder. Ignorant of Mara’s internal monologue, the Director forges on.

“We are proposing that you take 067493 home as your Domestic. You will be responsible for making her into a…a prototype, essentially, for this therapeutic aid program. You will also be expected to report any aberrant behaviors that could conceivably result from…ah, memory confusion.”

“I can do that.” That all sounds absurd, and difficult, and unfair, but Mara doesn’t care right now. All she cares about is getting Jude and taking her home and, and having her. Having her back.

“We’re going to allow you an adjustment period, and then we’re going to ask that you bring 067493 in for regular checkups, where we’ll be looking for signs of this memory confusion, as well as updates on your progress.”

“That…yes, that sounds very doable.”

Once again, the Director smiles fondly across the desk at her, and Mara has a funny, frightening feeling that she’s become Barbara Hammond’s newest little pet project. “I believe that it is, Ms. Langford. Despite the cosmetic defaults, she seems like a sweet thing. I can’t wait to see what you do with her.”

___

When Handler Collins leads Jude out, Mara’s heart about stops in her chest. There she is. There’s Jude. There’s…Jude, and not Jude.

A pair of black shorts, a WRU white t-shirt over skin that’s much paler than last time Mara saw it. Her stocky frame diminished, all her old rugby muscle losing or lost. She looks like...Mara hates the cliche, but she looks like a ghost of her former self, literally. Skinnier, paler, a whole lot more haunted. Her hair, her hands, the freckles and the way she walks just a little pigeon-toed – that’s Jude, that’s Jude all the way. The flat, false calm in her face and the fear in her eyes…that’s someone else. Swallowing, Mara clasps her hands together in front of her, trying to quell the urge to reach for her girl.

“Here she is!” Handler Collins throws his hands out grandly from his place beside the boxgirl. “All yours.”

“Wow,” Mara manages. “Uh…wow.”

Collins shakes his head. “Wow is right. But, hey, wait – you want to check the damage?” He’s still grinning, like it’s no big deal, like it’s all a joke. Mara sucks in a deep breath. The-the Box Babe in front of her is wearing a t-shirt, but Mara can see her cracked reddened palms and wonders what the thin cotton over her chest is hiding.

“I…I guess, yeah. I mean, I’m taking her either way,” she mutters, trying for a joke. Collins is more than happy to laugh at her.

“Shirt off, 493.”

Hesitantly, the trainee obeys, darting a wide-eyed glance at Mara as she does. The cotton goes over her head and oh.

Oh. There, on the right side of the girl’s chest, is the burn, red and angry and raised, covered in blisters. The scarring is worst on her collarbone, but the pink, stretched, destroyed skin crosses her neck below the line of her collar in one direction, creeps toward her armpit in the other. Mara’s horror must show on her face, because the girl flushes, looks down.

“That’s um. That’s pretty bad.”

Handler Collins shakes his head. “You don’t have to tell me. Fucking Underwood. Fuck.” He spits on the ground near the trainee’s bare feet. “She’s finished the antibiotics she’s supposed to be taking. The vet thinks she should be set. Just uh, she’s got this stuff she’s supposed to spread on it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Mara can’t stop staring at the burn, at the way it glares out, crimson and furious, from Jude’s pale, freckled skin. With effort, she tears her eyes away, to the downturned head of the waiting boxgirl. “Put…uh, put your shirt back on.”

The girl obliges quickly, and, Mara imagines, gratefully. She’s too well-trained to even wince when her movements stretch and ripple her healing skin. Mara’s eyes move hungrily over her face, her skinny body, searching for the parts of Jude she recognizes. The girl keeps her eyes on the ground but her cheeks go pink under the scrutiny.

“Doc, I gotta say.” Collins is shaking his head, and reluctantly, Mara turns her attention to him. “I don’t know how you got this one past the Director. I mean – a Box Babe for free? After what, ten months of working here?”

“Fourteen,” Mara corrects, a little too quietly. She clears her throat and tries again. “Over a year, Handler Collins.”

Rolling his eyes, Collins dismisses her with a flap of his hand. “A couple months, a year, whatever. A matter of months and you’ve got yourself a bonus worth tens of thousands? You must’ve shrunk the Director’s head to get her to agree to this one.”

Mara manages a tight smile for him. “I’m definitely…I definitely feel lucky.”

Leaning in, eyes gleaming conspiratorially, Collins puts his mouth near Mara’s ear. “You have good reason to feel lucky, Doc. Me and the guys – well, you’ve given some good advice, these past few months. It’s helped. And business is up. Company’s talking about padding the paychecks a little, and you’re a part of that, you know?” He gives her a hearty slap on the back and Mara forces a smile. “You’re part of the team! And the pet’s a gift from the company, but we thought, hey, why not a little something from us handlers, for our good doc?”

A shiver runs down Mara’s spine. “What…” she wets her lips, tries to sound amused, curious. “What did you do?”

“We only had a week or so to do it. Director Hammond decided so late, and all. But, but look, we crammed in some Romantic training, just for you.” Collins’ leer is too much. “None of the positions, of course, that shit’s extra, but a few of the lines, a few, ah…habits you might like.”

Mara thinks about him touching Jude and wants to tear the grin right off his face, wants to snarl and scratch and chew him out right there. Instead, she finds the girl’s eyes, searches there for some help, some hope, some recognition. Anything.

Her new Box Babe looks back at her with eyes that are flat and dull and empty.

[spooky-z]

The Soulmate AU [2]

Maribat by @ozmav

I didn't get much into the first part about their relationship (of the couple and with other people), so here's a post about it.

DAMIAN:

At 8, Damian, influenced by Marinette, manages to escape from the League to Batfam.

Not before stopping by to finally meet the girl in person. Of course.

Marinette's parents are relieved to know her little girl's soulmate, but also in a panic, as he has no shame in talking about his life with the League of Assassins.

"I don't want to be secret between us, since one day Marinette and I are getting married."

They accept. Bad. But they accept and try to be understanding.

He spends a week living with the Dupain-Cheng before deciding it was time to meet his father.

Marinette is sad. One week was too little and she wanted him safe by her side, not in a place where she could do nothing to help.

She attaches a discreet bracelet to the boy's wrist, claiming to be a lucky charm,and shows an equal resting on her pale wrist.

They say goodbye.

When Damian arrives in Gotham and meets Bruce, the man seems not at all surprised to learn that he had a son and that this son was coming to stay.

(The League and Talia had gone looking for Damian in Gotham, but were unable to find him.)

"Typical. She thinks she can predict my movements. I'm much smarter than that.” Damian snorts contemptuously and Mari laughs softly beside him.

She was by his side the whole trip. Only disappearing when she slept.

His relationship with Bruce and his brothers had a rocky beginning.

Damian was very closed and volatile.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

But our strawberry shortcake aka Marinette, with Alfred's help (even though the man didn't know he was helping her) managed to soften him enough to make things work.

Jonathan and Damian meet for the first time on duty.

Batman and Robin on patrol when Superman appears with Superboy and is dislike at first glance.

What changes after they meet again at school and Jonathan remembers Damian through Adrien's memories.

Best Friends Distributing Chaos Through Metropolis ™

He lives in Gotham with his father and siblings until he is 15, when he decides that living away from his soulmate is no longer working and signs up for an exchange in Paris.

MARINETTE:

Despite having a soulmate trained to be a assassin, she lived a normal, sweet childhood.

She had classmates, but also had her best friends: Kim and Sabrina.

Mari also becomes friends with Adrien at six.

The two know each other thanks to a visit from the Agreste family to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

It is instant friendship! And families encourage both.

(Gabriel more for not wanting Adrien too close to Chloe).

Because soulmates are rare, she has been harassed by people (other children and adults)

Which didn't last long, because it was no wonder, she was Damian Al-Ghul Wayne's soulmate.

Marinette never depended on Damian for dangerous skills.

Things like steal, act, observe and gymnastics.

She was a very observant child, able to understand things that not even her parents were capable of before she pointed out the evidence.

She still wants to be a designer, this time with Gabriel's support.

But there was also a part (she didn't know if it was because of Damian) that simply wanted to fight off the Paris criminals.

The relationship with her parents is the best. They don't hide anything from each other because trust is a serious thing in this family.

When Damian goes to Paris and they meet in person for the first time, she makes a point of feeding him sweets, since his diet in the League was very strict.

She introduced Damian to Sabrina, Adrien and Kim at a picnic with the families.

(To Adrien's soulmate too and it was a mess)

At 9, she convinces Emilie that Adrien would learn much more from studying at a school like her.

They go to school together and she teaches Adrien some ways to fight that her parents wouldn't approve of, but she knew would be useful in the future.

Mari is fucking smart.

She and Adrien are fucking scary together.

Chloe avoids them even if Sabrina is their friend.

Everyone thinks she and Adrien are soulmates (except Sabrina and Kim, who had already met Damian).

At thirteen, on the first day of school a drunk man broke into the school assaulting one of the teachers who tried to kindly ask him to leave...

That day was marked "Never mess with Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

JONATHAN:

He lived part of his childhood living on his grandparents' farm.

He always knew who his father and mother were, so being half alien wasn't something he didn't know about.

No one really believed that he had a soulmate (even if his eyes proved otherwise) because of his alien heritage.

He learned Kryptonian as he grew older.

As well as his powers and abilities.

After his parents decide to stop hiding, they move to Metropolis and Jon starts studying at a private school.

The signs of his soulmate only became evident after Jonathan recognized the face and model names on billboards.

And he had never been interested in modeling or the fashion world.

Then came the dreams.

Dreams of photo shoot, a green-eyed blonde woman and a stern-looking skinny man. Both French.

The first thought had been that he was going crazy.

The second, that he was developing a new power.

This continued until the "Swap" and he understood what was going on.

He and Adrien become best friends (first).

His classmates liked to tease him that Jonathan spent so much time “talking to himself”

His parents found the boy's innocent joy so cute.

He “introduces” Adrien to his parents and the boy blushes with Lois's attention.

Clark too, since please, it was Superman there.

Romantic feelings only come at 10 (for both), but they only start dating at 13.

Damian is his best friend, since he understands his situation very well.

He is the one who puts the idea in Damian's mind to take the exchange in Paris.

Convince the parents is a little harder than Bruce Wayne, but he manages.

Imagine the disaster that will be Paris in the hands of these four.

ADRIEN:

Having met Marinette much earlier than in canon and becoming her best friend, he has a drastic change of character here.

Although his pacifist side remains firm, it is not as strong as in canon.

Jonathan's bonus for being his soul mate as well, as it directly affects his behavior.

Influenced by Marinette, he is not taken in by Chloe's crazy and childish ideas

He even tries to help the girl, knowing that her bad behavior was more to draw attention, since her parents were far from exemplary parents, but she runs away from him as soon as she finds out that he is friends with Mari.

He makes other friends, but none compare to Marinette, Jonathan and Damian.

Learning to fight and growing a backbone was something he enjoyed, but baking was his passion.

Mr. Dupain really wanted to be able to adopt the boy.

He cried when he could see Jonathan for the first time.

When his mother dies in a car accident, he is 12 years old.

Adrien goes into shock.

He didn't eat, didn't talk, didn't sleep.

Jonathan was panicking that they were in distant countries, different continents.

Adrien did not react.

It went on like this until Marinette decided that was enough of it and broke into the Agreste mansion, sparing not even a glance at Gabriel.

Adrien was forced to shower, put on clean clothes, comb the hair, eat, brush the teeth and cry.

Yes, forced to cry.

Marinette knew that in order for him to get out of the nest of dark thoughts (which Jonathan had warned her), he needed to vent all that was trapped.

The day had been long, the night even more so.

It took months, but he managed to return to normal gradually. With the help of his friends, Adrien was able to suffer his grief in the least painful way possible.

When Gabriel decides it's best for Adrien to be home schooled again and fill the boy's schedule with photo essays, Marinette gets angry.

Or maybe it was Damian. Or both together. Anyway,

When Gabriel decides to be a dick, Marinette threatens to report the man to the police for child exploitation.

He tries to dissuade Marinette by threatening her back, but Adrien supports her and confronts his father.

OTHER THINGS:

Because of Adrien's “rebellion”, Gabriel decides to do nothing at the moment, but devises plans to change that.

What he doesn't know is that Marinette, with Damian's help, Jonathan, her parents, is two steps ahead of him. Waiting for his first slip.

Damian does not introduce Marinette to Batfam, he avoids, but the girl insists until one day she introduces herself and he just stands by his arms crossed and annoyed.

Jason and Marinette become best friends for Damian's chagrin and Bruce's happiness.

(Jason was having a hard time... and Marinette was being the light at the end of the tunnel for Bruce.)

The first time they make the "Swap" at Wayne Mansion, everyone is horrified to watch Damian spin happily around the kitchen, all smiles, while decorating Batfam-themed cupcakes.

Timothy had recorded and sent it to all family friends.

When Gabriel tries to force Adrien to do a late-night photo shoot on a school day, Jonathan curses the man with all the low vocabulary he has learned living on the farm.

His parents are not proud to find the boy at 3am cursing loudly in the kitchen, but understand his frustration.

Adrien is the one who anchors Jonathan's powers, so he doesn't lose too much control.

Alya and Lila will die a slow and painful death in this au.

And I say that not for Damian but for Tikki.

I will make one for the kwamis and soon I will post the fanfiction!

[tag list]

@sassydepression @emjrabbitwolf @actual-disaster-human @mystery-5-5 @thequestionablyhuman @alexresides @officiallyathiana   @interobanginyourmom @2sunchild2 @vixen-uchiha @timetomakeanewwish @ranger-gothamite @thanks-captain-obvious @wargraymon0709 @krispydefendorpolice @chocolatecatstheron @kazjaurelia @lysslovsanime @fandomkitty8 @g-arya @zerotosiki @bananaapplewaffle @graduatedmelon @schrodingers25 @queencommonsense @mindfulmagics @michellemagic @kceedraws @littleblue5mcdork @be-happy-every-day-please @razzledazzle247

[manychocolatefactories]

CatCF Milk Chocolate: Part 1, the kids

About this version: Milk Chocolate was inspired originally by a mix of the book, the vibes of the 1971 movie and the Tim Burton movie aesthetic. A bit more goofier and whimsical than the other versions. In term of era, I thought of it as a mix of 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

In this version seven Golden Tickets are spread throughout the world, and each time one is found the same female reporter (her character is a reference to the musical) goes to interview the children. Another recurring joke is that while the hunt is going on for the Tickets, there are all sorts of ridiculous debates on television such as: do the Golden Tickets really exist, or is this just a hoax ? Do the Golden Tickets give cancer? Can animals go on a tour like humans? What happens if a Golden Ticket winner dies before the tour? Are the Golden Tickets linked to the rise of youht delinquence? Are the Golden Tickets a proof of Wonka's alleagiance to the obscure sect of the Golden Bird?

  First Winner: Augustus Gloop

(Based on Augustus Gloop)

This Augustus was actually based on an idea Stained-by-the-sea allowed me to "borrow" a bit. Stained noted that Augustus always made him thought of this section from the movie "North", about Buck and the Texan parents. If you don't know what I am talking about, I'll leave links down there. And this is such a perfect matc I had to dig a bit down there.

This Augustus is basically a mix of all the archetypes associated with Texas and Nevada. But more precisely, he is basically "Buck" from North - a boy whose family (and his own mindset) embody the motto "bigger is better".

The Gloop family always thought that they should be "the biggest and the bests" and that "bigger is better". Ironically, the Gloop parents themselves are regular-sized people, but they clearly enforced this mentality on their son. Augustus is a big boy. Literally. He is tall, he is thick, he is fat, he is very, very big. He is probably one of the tallest, and definitively the largest boy on the tour (in fact, he once or twice gets stuck in the doors of Wonka factory). He eats ten meals per day, and we are not talking of regular sized meals. We are talking piles of ribs, kilos of potatoes, entire chickens... His parents also prepared for him a "big" and "best" future - paying the local sportive teams to claim he is a sports champion despite Augustus never setting a foot on a sports field, arranging his marriage with the local beauty queen of the state he lives in, already preparing the three different houses he will live with his fifteen kids... As a result, Augustus isn't just big and fat physically, he also has a massive and bloated ego. He thinks that he is the best at everything, and that he should have absolutely everything he wants.

The Gloops themselves are actually the masters of the state they live in, so to speak. They are the wealthiest and most influential industrials of the area: they built highways, casinos, hotels, private villas, they are cow-farmers, owing a lot of slaughterhouses, and also dig for oil and gold. They want their business to be the "biggest there ever was" and all they do is exaggerately big: their villas are enormous, their hotels are everywhere, their farms hosts several thousands cows, their mines are among the deepest in the world...

Trouble is that, due to their expansion and consumption of everything, they are a threat to the landscape and the environment - destroying forests to build their roads and buildings, drying out the lands to feed their farms... in fact, part of the reason why their state looks like the most desertic parts of Texas and Nevada is due to their actions.

Think... Buck from North. Think Art Land from Mar Attack. Think an evil (and obese) version of Clay Bailey from "Xiaolin Showdown". In fact, if I remember well in one episode Clay turns into a sumo for one of the Showdowns... this would probably be Augustus' appearance in this version: sumo Clay Bailey. (Edit: Yes, I checked out, it is episode 23 of the series).

 Second Winner: Clarence Crump

(Based on: Clarence Crump)

Clarence didn't had any kind of personnality in the original drafts outside of a desire to prove he was right. As a result, I decided to have a lot of fun and create my own character.

The idea of vanity has already been touched several times with the other brats, but I wanted to give it its own character and kid. I also wanted to create a polar opposite of Augustus, denouncing the fact that being skinny can be just as bad as being fat when in excess. As a result, Clarence Crump is here a boy obsessed about being thin, and proud of being too skinny for his own good.

Mr. Crump is a pseudo-health guru that keeps writing phony and very dangerous diet books, the kind that will advice you to stop eating altogether to lose weight. As for Mrs. Crump, she is a beauty pageant champion (local and regional, and while she acts as if she was some national beauty champion, she always failed at nationals). From their union was born a child who inherited their vanity, pride and obsession with "health"

Black haired, very pale, very thin, very slender, to the point his bones show, Clarence delights in being skinny, and works as a teenager model promoting the "thin-fashion". He is also the embodiment of fat-shaming, never missing an occasion to insult fat people (in fact he often calls Augustus a big fat cow). He uses however the excuse of health for that (a trick his parents taught him) - promoting extreme thinness by talking about health and fat-shaming people in the name of health allows one to be much more horrible than normally accepted.

A good proof of how Clarence actually is just very vain and obsessed with being thin, and not at all defending health - Clarence condemns sports for being unhealthy, because according to him "muscles are unhealthy because they don't make you look beautiful, they make you look ugly".

He always wears short and black sleeveless tank-tops, the point being that he needs to show as much as his body to the world as possible, to be a "living example". He even wears his black short and tank-top during the tour (despite it being winte - the only thing he wears on top of his clothes to not get cold is a skunk fur coat).

  Third  Winner: Miranda Grope

(Based on: Miranda Grope)

This character was based on Dahl's own character of "Miranda Grope" from early drafts of the story, the horrible and atrocious girl allowed to do "whatever she wants".

In my version, the Grope parents are hippie-like people, the father having a very long beard and being covered in fleas, while the mother is covered in flowers and oss (plants that grew over her), and both always wearing rose-tinted glasses. They are the kind of parents that refuse authority and orders, seeing these (and social norms as a whole) as a "dictatorship". They prefer to trust their daughter to find her own way in the world, believing that experience is the best teacher in life. The result? They lazily raised her by telling her they would never forbid her anything and that she could do anything she wanted.

Miranda is a devilish little girl who does only what she wants, and becomes extremely violent when prevented from doing something. Or when people say something she doesn't want to hear. Or just when people she dislikes are near her. She shouts, the screams, she insult, she kicks, she hit, she throw enormous and terrifying tantrums. She has a very wide range of insults, and a truly evil mind : most of the things she wants to do are borderline crimes. It seems for her only chaos and destruction is "fun", a true little punk.

Miranda has a disastrous haircut because she cuts her hair herself, and she is always wearing the same clothes that she rarely washes): a white shirt, a blue sweater with long sleeves, and a plaid tiles skirt. An outfit that looks strikingly like a school uniform - but it is pure irony, because Miranda hates more than anything in the world school. She doesn't go to school, and the only time she went near one was to try to burn it down. (Her appearance is in fact based on Lauren Child's illustrations for Miranda, if you are wondering).

  Fourth Winner: Veruca Salt

(Based on: Veruca Salt)

For this Veruca, I wanted to do something slightly different... here, Veruca doesn't want everything just because she is a spoiled rich brat. She is still one, but she is also the product of post-WW2 consumerism.

This Veruca was born surrounded by advertisements, logos, slogans and product placements. On television, in the streets, in shops, in journals, at the radio... She grew up with them and was influenced, brainwashed by them. As a result, she is obsessed with obtaining everything that was advertised, and she herelf looks like a walking billboard since she is covered in big, flashy logo and keeps reciting different brands' slogans and mottos. As soon as she sees something she saw publicity of before, she needs to obtain it at once. She is a true zombie, only hearing the call of the shopping mall and of the television advertisements.

One idea I had was that the Salt parents actually worked for (or where at the head of) a wealthy advertisement company, known to produce, design and create all kinds of famous publicities and slogans - and that they used their daughter as a guinea pig for their tests, and delighted in Veruca being so addicted to consumerism. In fact, they may have named her Veruca because at the moment of her birth they were working on advertisements for an anti-wart product, so that's all they had in mind.

  Fifth winner:  Herpes Trout

(Based on: Mike Teavee)

I went with this version of Mikee Teavee with the focus on "violence" already present in the original work, but also heavily used in the opera (and touched a bit in the 2005 movie).

This Herpes Trout is the embodiment of the fear of kids becoming violent upon watching television and playing video games (his only two passions in life). He has a true fascination with guns and firearms - US soldiers shooting aliens, gangs shooting each other, cowboys shooting at bandits, it's all he ever plays and watches. Herpes worships violence, and is absolutely obsessed with war (here I am thinking of all the wars present from the 60s to the 80s, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Glasgow Ice Cream Wars...). War propaganda and the fight being glorifyed heavily influenced him - as a result his biggest dream is to go at war in some foreign country to kill everyone there and come home a hero.

Herpes comes from a family of rednecks and hillbillies from the deep country. They are not poor however, they are wealthy enough to have television and several video games, but they are uneducated people full of stereotypes, discrimination and hate. They named their son Herpes because they ignored what it meant but just thought of it as an "intelligent" name. Herpes has everal brothers and sisters, and all have a disease name.

Herpes himself is a big and strong kid, who followed body-buildings process a la Charles Atlas and military training, becoming impressively muscular. However, he retained a soft, childish and chubby "baby face", which kind of ruins the effect of this massive, muscular, almost adult body. Always dressed in a military outfit, he carries everywhere with him guns and firearms, the question being: are they real? Or are they not?

  Sixth Winner: Violet Glockenberry

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

I wanted with this version to take back the idea of a competitive and "sportive" girl obsessed with contesting and winning - introduced in the Tim Burton movie.

This Violet is a tall, muscular and strong girl. She won numerous sportive competitions, but this doesn't make her just arrogant and prideful like in the Tim Burton version. In my version she is also very aggressive and violent (a bit like in the original novel). She is a nasty and rude bully easily prone to anger (in fact, if she keeps chewing gum it is mostly to calm her down sot hat she doesn't punch everyone around). Her parents originally pushed her towards competitions to manage her anger issues, but sports only gave her more strength and destructive power. In fact, they became terrified of her, while she considers them losers here to serve her - she basically thinks of herself as self-made, literaly.

  Seventh Winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on: Charlie Bucket)

For this Charlie, I wanted to go with a Charlie similar to the original illustrations of the character: blond hair, blue eyes, a white boy...

Basically, he is the original Charlie. Very sweet, very innocent, a gentle kid, the best of the group.

However I changed slightly his background. Charlie in this version is not the grandson of four grandparents, but rather the big brother of four younger siblings - and his family here struggles with trying to feed five children (and a total of seven mouths) despite having very humble and low-paid jobs. I think Charlie has taken the role of a parentive figure for the siblings, but at the same time him spending so much time with young children helped him keep in touch with his "childish" side.

[catbreeds2]

Siamese Cats

The Standard Siamese cat and the Fashionable Siamese cat are surrounded by some controversy. No, you are not imagining points. Positive, there are two very utterly totally different variations of the similar breed of cat.

The Standard Siamese cat, a smooth-bodied, sturdy animal with a rounded head, spherical blue eyes and fundamental darkish components on a creamy physique. The cat from primary earlier movies like “Bell, Information and Candle” and “That Darn Cat”.

The fragile Siamese appears to be dressed for a chic masquerade ball in pale night time placed on with trendy black gear and tanzanite-blue eyes.

The usual Siamese is the cat many individuals grew up with, and the one cat you’ll be able to see inside the historic previous of the breed, (and it is a very prolonged historic previous) until the 1960’s.

These cats had been written about and depicted in paintings work as early as a result of the 1700’s, after which in 1884 a British dignitary visiting Siam, which is now known as Thailand, was gifted with one by the Siamese King.

Launched once more to England, this cats offspring had been confirmed on the London Crystal Palace cat current in 1885.

Footage nonetheless exist within the current day displaying the conventional breed with spherical head and plush physique. So what occurred, and why are there two varieties at the moment?

Evidently tastes merely modified, perhaps some politics had been involved, nonetheless inside the current ring, and on the excessive breeders the Siamese cats whole outward look modified pretty drastically in a matter of a very long time.

Out was the apple-head and full-body, in was an elongated, triangular head, rectangular eyes and an exaggerated physique type very like a vogue model. The “modern” Siamese cat.

By the mid 1980’s the breed commonplace had been absolutely re-written, and, aside from coloration, no Siamese current cats even resembled the cats you see on this net web page.

The persona of the two variations stays to be surprisingly the an identical – this generally is a loud, busy, demanding, demonstrative and nice cat.

Cats with this look are nonetheless bred by very devoted breeders, and some are even attempting to re-introduce them with a model new establish, the “Thai” cat. Seek for “Typical” or “Apple-head” Siamese if that’s the look you need.

Life Span: 11 to 15 years

SIAMESE CAT PERSONALITY

“We’re Siamese for many who please. We’re Siamese for many who don’t please.” These strains, sung by two haughty Siamese cats in Disney’s Girl and the Tramp, particular the Siamese character fully. Perhaps essential issue to find out about these cats is that they’re talkative and opinionated. They will inform you exactly what they suppose, in a loud, raspy voice, and they also rely on you to pay attention and act on their suggestion. Siamese cats are terribly eager on their people. They like to be “helpful” and might observe you spherical and supervise your every switch. If you find yourself sitting down, a Siamese shall be in your lap, and at night time time he could be in mattress with you, perhaps under the covers alongside together with his head on the pillow.

Some cats seem to imagine that a purr or a pleasing rub speaks louder than phrases. Siamese is not going to be of this school of thought and are recognized for his or her experience for talking their ideas and wishes clearly to their chosen individuals. When you can’t be drawn into dialogue, they’re joyful to keep up up a working monologue to your enlightenment. No meaningless meows, these, nonetheless precise makes an try at communication, in accordance with Siamese followers. To some cat lovers, preferring their felines to be seen and by no means heard, the Siamese rasp (some would say yowl) usually is a bit annoying. Nevertheless Siamese worshipers wouldn’t have it one other method.

Determinedly social and actually dependent upon their individuals, Siamese crave energetic involvement in your life. Like Mary’s little lamb, they should adjust to wherever you may go. Siamese will likely be unpredictable of their habits and may appear aloof and disinterested, nonetheless it is all an act. Siamese have to be dealt with with respect and persistence and require quite a few affection in the event that they’re to develop an in depth, caring relationship with their human companions. Siamese will pine if left too usually alone.

SIAMESE CAT HEALT

Every pedigreed cats and mixed-breed cats have numerous incidences of effectively being points that could possibly be genetic in nature. Points that can affect the Siamese embody the following:

– Amyloidosis, a sickness that occurs when a form of protein often called amyloid is deposited in physique organs, primarily the liver in Siamese – Bronchial bronchial asthma/bronchial sickness – Congenital coronary coronary heart defects harking back to aortic stenosis

SIAMESE CAT KİTTENS

raditional Siamese kittens are little characters with superior vitality. These are “climbing the curtains” kind kittens, and kitten-proofing is an absolute necessity.

These infants are pretty small and lean, with no meat to soften the blow within the occasion that they tumble off a banister or fridge.

A model new Siamese kitten is a riot, and a number of is a downright circus. Having loads of toys spherical is an effective suggestion, notably the kind that don’t require as rather a lot human effort, like feathers on sticks, are extraordinarily actually helpful for everytime you’re too pooped to play.

Siamese kittens are born white and develop their coloring over quite a few days to weeks.

Apart from that, the Typical Siamese kitten appears to be very very like a miniature grownup. They’re smooth and swish at a very youthful age.

They tend to develop at a imply price and attain mature prime at about 6 months, filling out and gaining full measurement and weight at about one 12 months outdated.

Because of this is usually a in model cat, breeders of pedigree Standard Siamese kittens may very well be found comparatively merely, and the price is generally moderately priced for a pure-bred kitten. Seek for “Applehead Siamese”.

Coat Coloration And Grooming

What the Siamese looks as if relies upon upon the breed regular of each specific group. Most cat associations title for the Siamese to have a svelte nonetheless muscular physique with prolonged traces. The wedge-shaped head is prolonged and tapering from the slim stage of the nostril outward to the concepts of the ears, forming a triangle. The unusually large ears are huge on the bottom, pointed on the tip, giving them the equivalent triangular type as the top. Medium-size almond-shaped eyes are always a deep vivid blue. The physique is usually described as tubular and is supported by prolonged, slim legs, with the hind legs elevated than the doorway legs. The Siamese walks on small, dainty, oval paws and swishes an prolonged, skinny tail that tapers to an exquisite degree.

The transient coat of the Siamese has a high-quality texture. Throughout the Cat Fanciers Affiliation, it’s out there in four colors: seal degree, a pale fawn to cream physique with deep seal brown elements and deep brown nostril leather-based and paw pads; chocolate degree, an ivory physique with milk chocolate-colored elements and cinnamon-pink nostril leather-based and paw pads; blue degree, a bluish-white physique with deep blue elements and slate-colored nostril leather-based and paw pads; and lilac degree, a glacial white physique with frosty pinky-gray elements and lavender-pink nostril leather-based and paw pads.

The Worldwide Cat Affiliation permits for a variety of colors previous the four degree colors acknowledged by CFA. They embrace tabby components, purple elements, cream elements, silver tabby components, smoke components and particolor elements.

The Standard Cat Affiliation acknowledges two types of Siamese, the Standard and the Conventional, every with a extremely completely totally different look than the fashionable Siamese acknowledged by CFA, TICA and completely different cat associations. The TCA’s Typical Siamese has a spherical head and a big-boned, rounded physique. The TCA’s Primary Siamese may also be big-boned nevertheless has a barely further elongated physique than the Typical Siamese and a big wedge-shaped head. They arrive within the equivalent four colors acknowledged by CFA, plus albino.

What regarding the Thai? The TICA breed regular requires it to have modified wedge-shaped head of medium width with rounded cheeks and a muzzle that tapers to a rounded end, very like a tapered yard spade. The top is longer than it is huge, nevertheless to not an extreme diploma. The eyes have a full almond kind and the ears are medium dimension to barely large, with the tip pointing outward at a slight angle. The lithe, smooth physique is fairly prolonged nonetheless not tubular. Medium-length legs are swish and are supported by medium-size oval-shaped paws. The tail is as long as the torso, tapering on the tip. The coat is transient and silky with a pale, off-white physique coloration and dense, even stage colors.

TRADITIONAL SIAMESE CAT BREED STANDARD

Head Type: The head is as broad because it’s prolonged, rounded and proportionate to physique dimension. The nostril must be neither broad nor pointed, and in proportion with the rest of the highest. Medium dimension ears, barely rounded on the tip, and broad on the bottom. Eyes are large, huge and vibrant blue in shade.

Physique and Tail: Medium dimension, properly muscled physique, longer than tall. Legs are of medium dimension. Ft must be medium measurement and spherical and neat. 5 toes in entrance and four in once more. The tail is frequent in measurement and kind with a imply taper. It should not be whip-like.

Coat: Transient in dimension. Fashionable and satiny. Accepted colors are seal, chocolate, brown, lilac, purple, tortie or blue Components with a physique coloration of cream, tan, beige, or near white in Blue Pointed cats.

Pattern: Elements on the masks, tail, ears and legs with successfully outlined edges. Components should all be of the similar shade. No white on physique or inside the pointed areas.

Basic Look: This should be a lean-bodied and medium dimension cat with a glossy, athletic prime quality. They should actually really feel fairly heavy when lifted and be neither comfy nor skinny. A stunning, primary look teamed with an irrepressible persona.

A FEW MORE TRADITIONAL SIAMESE CAT FACTS

Standard Siamese cats are being re-introduced to most of the people beneath one different determine – the Thai cat. Expectantly, these devoted breeders might be succesful to guard this cat in its distinctive and fabulous state.

[hes-writer]

The Hate You Give

Hi hun! If you’re not too busy, could u write one where they’re are dating and she’s a latina? Like she feels insecure about her brown skin, slightly bigger chest and ass, her thick dominican accent bc the girls who were linked with him before were all white and blonde and like she tries to break up with him bc of all the hate and differences. Thanks honeyy!!💖💖 @champagnehaarry

disclaimer; I'm not latinx and I've done research as to not offend or stereotype this character to the best of my ability.

Summary: Y/N is latina and receives hate messages

Warnings: angst, fluff

——

Y/N was different. She knew that, well, she had an idea ever since she hit puberty way back when. Her chest had grown bigger than the rest of the girls and her bottom would get her catcalls when she walked down the street. She could handle it, she prided herself in being strong. She didn't mind her accent, not one bit. Sure, it was thick and her pronunciation on certain words had others asking for her to repeat what she just said maybe once or twice, but she tried to understand where they were coming from; ‘everyone has their differences,’ she thought. Her skin never really bothered her–in fact, she hadn't spared much thought about its pigment until now.

When she met Harry, all her insecurities washed away as if she was just a regular girl meeting the love of her life. The way she looked didn't matter to her because she could see in his eyes that he loved her—nobody could tell her any differently.

——-

Y/N was strong. So strong that even when the media caught the first sight of Harry and her hanging out together on their third date, she blew off the fact that one of the cameramen shouted at them, "Harry! Who's this beautiful brown lady with you?" One might say that it was a compliment, at least he called her beautiful, but she couldn't shake off the measures that person took to describe her. Couldn't have he just called her 'lady'? Y/N decides that she's making a bigger deal out of it than it actually meant.

The second time something remarkable happened—it was when Harry stopped their romantic walk to take pictures with his fans. Y/N didn't mind, she loved that Harry was so dedicated to the people that support him that he would basically give all that he can to them. He didn't have to, but he did and that made Y/N fall harder for him. One of the girls asked Y/N to take a picture, handed her their phone and posed with Harry. Y/N was surprised at the straightforward action and she knew that she could not mess this up. Not when the girl has probably been dreaming of this moment her entire life, Y/N will not be responsible for a blurry, half-assed picture. Instead, she asks the girl,

"Do you have any requests on how to take it? Portrait or landscape? Nothing below the waist or..?"

Harry admired her for being so caring, he only smiles at her for asking, being so patient that he feels giddy on the inside and he cannot wait to ask her to be his. The fan, however, furrows her brows and her face morphs into one of confusion.

"Can you repeat what you said?" Y/N repeats her statement but was only met with the same expression-–maybe with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, can you just take the picture? I don't want to be rude but your accent is so...thick, are you even from here,"

"Obviously not," the girl's friend answers for Y/N. The most obvious answer, if any. The girl beside Harry nudges her friend, eyes shifting from her and then hardening towards Harry as if warning her that she was being a bit rude.

Regardless, the friend eyes Y/N up and down with a glimmer in her eye that spoke hatred.

Y/N takes the picture anyway.

——-

As Harry and Y/N reach the door to her apartment, she couldn't help but think of the past events. It wasn't only that, it was a built up of temperament where she had been treated indifferently by people around Harry. Some fans commented under her selfie on Instagram ranging from "at least you have boobs and ass girl" to "how much fake tan does she use" —none, by the way, she was all natural. And Y/N can't help but feel a tad insecure.

Then came the news articles with the headlines, "Harry Styles Spotted With A Spicy Latina" or "Harry Snags A Girl From Down Under" which confuses her not only because they're an invasion of privacy but she wonders how her whole humanity can be diminished into such an objective headline—she had a name. Granted, she wasn't really worth knowing but regardless, it was better to be called by her name rather than a hotshot eye-catching headline.

She taps the link to one of the articles, scrolling through the lengthy piece of work, eyes squinting at the introduction where it states that Y/N was certainly a deviation away from Harry's usual hookups. Harry had taken it upon himself to make them some hot chocolate while she got changed in comfier clothes as a conclusion to their date night. She was supposed to choose the movie. Her eyes squint at the words "10 Proofs that Y/N Y/LN is a no match for Harry"

The first one on the list was Taylor Swift. Of course, how could Y/N forget about her. Skinny, blonde and pale skin, a stark contrast to her curvy figure, wavy hair and darker toned pigment. She feels a lurch in her stomach from the hit of realization.

Then came Camille Rowe—a model with similar attributes as Taylor. Completely the opposite of Y/N and she feels herself getting more sick at the knowledge being pounded into her. She didn't care about Harry's past because she only cared for who he is in the present. Seeing the women he went for before her puts a stake right through her self-esteem knowing that she would always be compared with one of them as long as she and Harry were together. Her confidence staggering each time she reads a negative comment about how her skin color made Harry stand out whereas it made her blend in the background-a sarcastic joke that wasn't very funny. Her breath hitching every time the topic of her accent came up; how fans who've met her in person make fun of her not having an understandable accent as if it was her fault that her pronunciation was too broad beyond their compare. And each time she sees a comparison of her and Harry with him and his exes, she shakes her head because she knows that literally nothing good ever comes out of that.

She knows she's strong. But why did this hurt her so much? The personal attacks being hurled at her made her feel so inferior to others and even to Harry! It was like the media was never gonna get used to the fact that she's a person of colour—continuously writing papers about their 'interracial' relationship as if it was such a huge deal when really, it was not even their business to pry or scavenge for.

"Hey love, have you chosen a movi– hey, hey what's wrong?" Harry walks through the doors of her bedroom, feet kicking the door slightly open while his hands carried two steaming mugs of foaming hot chocolate. Upon seeing her tears and slouched stance, he sets the cups down on the bedside table before sitting with her at the foot of the bed.

Y/N stares at him as he does so before wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands. "Nothing, it's nothing just.."

"You can tell me anything, you know that. Now tell me what's wrong, lovie" He wraps an arm around her figure as an action of comfort, but Y/N only sees it as a burden in her chest.

"I think we should break up, H" She looks at her sock-clad feet. Not being able to look at him in the eyes, it's her weakness.

"What? Y/N, did I do something?" Harry tilts her chin up towards his face, eyes frantically searching her red ones for a justifiable reason for her decision.

"I'm not good enough for you," Harry gasps at her confession, genuinely surprised that his girlfriend could even fathom to say those words, let alone think of them.

He denies every claim about her theory but his voice was muted by her mind repeatedly playing the things she had read a few minutes ago. Memories of her being demeaned echoing through her head.

"You're the best person I've ever been with. It doesn't matter what other people sa—"

"Yes it does, Harry! It definitely matters when I'm being constantly picked on and compared to your ex-girlfriends. Every day I read something about how I must've 'tricked' you into being with me because of how I look," Y/N cuts Harry's rant off, not caring if it hurts him because she was so so hurt. The pain had embedded itself in her, working its way up to her roots; who she was and where she came from.

"I'm not just another girl that Harry Styles dated. I'm the brown girl, the one who has the 'biggest ass' out of all of them and especially the darkest because you... you've only dated people like Taylor before and I can't live my life being put down because of how I look,"

Harry stares at her with emotion. Of course, the media was gonna pinpoint what his 'type' was. He didn't know it was hurting his love.

"Y/N, they're all bull. Whoever's writing this shit, they're only in it for the money," he begins, forcing her body to face him completely. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. They're my exes for a reason and even if I did date them, I'm with you now because I love you for who you are,"

"But it's true, isn't it? They're all so small and I'm big. They're half the size of me for god's sakes!"

"It's not true. And you know why? You're mesmerizing in your own way. I love the way your body curves, the way you look doesn't matter to me as much because you're a beautiful, genuine person inside and out," He nods along to his words. "But your body is amazing, Y/N. And you should learn to love your skin because it shows you who you are."

Y/N bored at Harry's eyes, seeing nothing but genuine kindness behind it. Her mouth gapes open having not heard such compliments from anyone as authentic as the words Harry was speaking to her.

"Harry..."

"No, Y/N. I won't sit here and listen to you put yourself down. You deserve to know how unbelievably gorgeous you are. The tabloids, the hate—they're not true and people like them need some education before they go off dragging other people who don't look like them down."

"You're right, H. I'm sorry,"

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about,"

She wipes tears from her eyes, this time they're from happiness.

——

@ynm1505

[toongrrl-blog]

Part One of Barb Series: Why Barb Died (Character Device Talk)

*Please watch the Betty Draper Francis video first, for extra credit, check out the channel’s vid on Jack Dawson and come with knowledge of Beth March*

Happy end of the 2010s! Before I discuss what Barb could have brought to the Party in Stranger Things I need to discuss how as a character she needed to die.

1. Beth March

In one scene in Little Women, the girls and Laurie discuss their ambitions for adult life. Oldest sister Meg wants to marry and have kids, oldest middle sis Jo wants to become a known and successful writer, youngest sister Amy wants to become rich and famous as an artist and maybe a socialite, and middle child Beth wants things to stay the way they are for her, with her loving family at her side. What’s wrong with this? What the other three sisters have in common is that they are hoping for adult lives which include a lot of change, responsibility, independence (either as a career woman or running a household with little kids underfoot), new experiences, and even new people in their lives (Meg would need to meet a guy to marry and have kids with him, Jo would need to meet people in her professional life, Amy would entertain guests and appeal to patrons). Shy Beth is a talented pianist, vet, and doll collector and is very charitable but she doesn’t seem to want to take the risks it would take to grow as a person and thrive and mature or be noticed for her own merits aside from “Angel of the House” and the future looks pretty hostile; so by the end of the novel, Beth has died in her early 20s while sisters lives have changed (Meg married and had children in a cottage while gaining confidence as a homemaker, wife, and mom; Jo sells her writing and meets a professor who wants to start a school where she becomes headmistress after they marry; Amy goes on a Grand Tour of Europe and marries wealthy and happy).

The series Stranger Things, on a whole, is a coming-of-age series that borrows from the John Hughes and Steven Spielberg films of that era that captured the joys and pains of growing up, while Joyce’s and Hop’s storylines borrow from conspiracy thrillers around that era and somewhat from Hitchcock films. All these films captured ordinary people undergoing extraordinary (E.T., North By Northwest, The Goonies, The Stepford Wives) and life altering events (Jaws, The Breakfast Club, Silkwood) that force them to encounter challenges and make decisions they wouldn’t normally make in their mundane lives. Joyce ends up facing a monster with an axe and even makes demands of people who could wipe her off the Earth, the boys have to ride their bikes to evade murderous men in vans and hide a young traumatized girl, Nancy has to learn to create and use deadly weapons and use her skills of sneaking out for something besides sex, Jonathon has to cut his and another girl’s hand to lure a monster to their trap, Hop sneaks into a morgue just to slit a dead boy’s corpse and find cotton stuffing, Will has to use what knowledge and skills he has to survive another world filled with creatures out to kill him, most of the kids throughout the series have to lie and break laws to save their town. 

While the official guide does list Barb as being a varsity softball player and a mathlete and Shannon Purser concurs that Barb would have been the Velma of the group if she lived, there is one big thing that separates the Velmas from the Barbs and Beth’s of the world: Velma takes risks, she would trespass private looking property and dilapidated buildings to solve a mystery. Barb is a loyal friend and honest and studious and smart, but she’s ultimately the good girl archetype: cautious, obedient to her elders, predictable, conservatively and femininely dressed, chaste. An archetype that Nancy is trying to flee (not that the alternative of being a girl who sneaks out with her boyfriend to makeout is going to help Nancy at all) to avoid ending up like her mother. Barb has the fangs (talent and means) to be a Party member, she just lacks the nerve to jump and sink those fangs.

2. Commentary on the Patriarchy and the Tyranny of Beauty Standards

Most of the female characters in the series don’t fit the strict criteria of their Reagan era Indiana small town regarding what makes a good woman. Joyce is a single mother who doesn’t come with well-coiffed hair and she appears to be hysterical and is a working mother in a time and place where all these factors would label her a “bad mother”, Nancy is a frank young woman who takes risks and even asserts her sexuality and herself when plenty of people (like the shitheads at Hawkins Post) would prefer her to be a delicate virgin in pastels, El is physically stronger than the boys with her powers and she is very direct in her manner despite her soft-spoken demeanor, Max is a girl who is interested in arcade video games and skateboarding and brightly colored summer clothing and reads her Mom’s Cosmo cover to cover and is assertive, Erica is an assertive young girl who can talk truth (and shade) to adults and has a knowledge of My Little Pony and Cold War Politics, Robin is snarky and has a style that makes her stand out from most girls in Hawkins and is a teen genius, Kali’s rage and Joan Jett-esque appearance would make the preppy and pastel and autumnal tone wearing residents of Hawkins in Cardiac Care, Suzie has defied notions about girls in science and math and even the Mormon beliefs of her parents by french kissing and dating a non-Mormon boy like Dustin, and Karen despite her appearance of hot housewife perfection is dissatisfied with her marriage and comes close to cheating on her husband. 

In contrast Barb is pretty much the most conventional character: she dresses conservatively in ruffles and pink, she is seemingly chaste, follows the rules diligently and worries about getting punished by the Holland and Wheeler parents, and has a more common body type found in cis-gender women (correct me if I’m wrong, hopefully I don’t offend trans pear shaped women) and not often found in the older members of the female cast. But despite Barb’s body being common among women in general and specific to her region (the American Midwest is noted for starchy and creamy and fried foods and is historically farming country, where pioneers would find her strong for work in and out of the log cabin and give birth to the necessary amount of children i.e. extra hands for work), the delicate and slender builds of Joyce and Nancy, the classic proportionate and slender grace of Robin, and the leggy and toned image of Karen are closer to the female standard of beauty in the 1980s. In Barb’s lifetime (1967-1983), the image of beauty was dominated by leggy, toned, slim, busty women or lean women with minimal breasts: no room for tall, broad, pear shapes like herself. And in 1983, Molly Ringwald wasn’t yet a household name that freckled redheads with dry wit and atypical images could look on with pride. Hell I remember reading a copy of Color Me Beautiful where they recommend that women with heavy hips and small waists (similar features of Christina Hendricks and Shannon Purser) shouldn’t cinch their waistlines, the celebration of Marilyn Monroe pinups with round hips, pillowy thighs and tummies, rounded tushes were long gone by then. Basically Barb being her natural self, was not seen as “feminine enough” and combined with her glasses and style (any plus sized or early developing gal can tell you that it is hell to find junior styles that suit your body size and shape) have ruled her as “uncool”. 

There is also that Barb does a lot of things that the boys do: being slightly geeky, a loyal friend, has innocent and wholesome interests, chaste, and is quiet (like Will) but she still gets killed. One can sense that #JusticeForBarb came out of an anger with misogyny in media and society that tells women to be a certain way and punishes them whether they fit a mold or not. Women are still underpaid in the workplace, underrepresented in government, still deal with unequal and toxic relationships, are shamed for being virgins or for having sexual experience (Carol pokes fun at the idea of Barb finding the sex sounds too much and yet contributes to the slut shaming graffiti of Nancy), are told on one hand to look a certain way to attract the male gaze and shamed when they indulge in sexual desire (something Nancy can attest to with her glamorous mother who offers to lend her black heels and focuses on Nancy’s beauty before a funeral, the same mom who was angry her daughter had sex), they are either too fat/skinny/busty/flat/frizzy/straight haired/pale/slutty/prudish/dark/feminine/masculine/full-butt-ed/quiet/loud/naive/cynical/smart/dumb/angry/happy, and they deal with a media that sells a very narrow standard of beauty to the point that when they see a drop dead gorgeous actress or model with similar features they feel seen.

Oh Bondage, Up Yours!

*Read this is not a “Barb is a slut shamer!” piece yes that was shitty but she was a teen girl in a small 1980s town and she ISN’T starting a (paraphrasing Kimberly Nicole Foster quote) “no whores allowed campaign” OR trying to pass a law that demands women keep their ectopic pregnancies to full term*

3. End of Innocence

When Barb died, it marked the end of Nancy’s childhood and her needing to grow up. That was the night Nancy went straight from childhood (Barb), teenager (sex with Steve), and then shortly became an adult when she realized that Barb had disappeared. For many women (like myself at ages 9 and 10), the moment they get their period or grow breasts or reach a certain age, marks a dramatic end of their childhood. Suddenly many are told to police their behavior and language around boys, even policing the food they eat or their bodies. There is also extra responsibility and stress, demogorgans being one of them. Nancy is now having to deal with the sorts of issues that adult women dealt with on Mad Men along with scary monsters threatening her town and the fact her parents are not as happy as they look to the world, there is a gap between the experiences of her and Mike, she has a baby sister who probably was conceived to save the marriage, and Nancy can’t confide or trust either of her parents (who are absorbed with their own issues). Now Nancy is making big decisions that Barb, with the sheltering and seemingly close parents, will likely never deal with. Nancy is even taking fashion risks with clothes that are more functional, stylish, show off her figure, and can even withstand flayer blood and exorcising her boyfriend’s little brother.

4. A Huge Threat

Barb was intended to be a character that we connected with, someone to be built up somehow. There was a character like this in a movie: her name was Marion Crane. She was a secretary who has been supporting herself and her little sis since their parents died, patiently waiting for her boyfriend to make more money at his job so they can marry and stop sneaking around sleeping with one another, in desperation she steals a lot of money from her workplace, drives to California where she meets a mild-mannered but strange young man who manages a distant motel in the vicinity of a Victorian house where an older woman is croaking about promiscuity, after talking with him over a dinner of sandwiches in his taxidermy themed office, she goes to take a shower and has decided to return to Phoenix to return the money, then a strange figure comes with a large butcher knife in horribly out of date clothes and starts stabbing her to death.

This was from the Hitchcock film Psycho, the forerunner of the slasher genre that dominated the earlier half of the 1980s, and it premiered to shocked audiences in 1960. The meaning of the grisly murder of Marion, a character the audience was following from the beginning of the film, was that Norman Bates was a huge threat and intensified the need for Marion’s killer to be brought to justice.

The same thing can be said about the deaths of Benny and Barb, to show how much a threat the demogorgan and Hawkins National Lab were to the townspeople of Hawkins (and the world as a whole), basically such big threats that a little boy can be kidnapped from the safety of his home, a young teenage girl could be snatched up and killed from a suburban swimming pool, and a kindly cook and owner of a local diner would be executed for knowing about a runaway child. 

5. The future of Women in Stranger Things

Not all is lost, Barb’s death forced the Duffer Bros to take a look at how women were written and treated in their series, and even helped spurred tv viewers (who ordinarily wouldn’t pay attention to social issues) to take a deeper look and interest in how people especially women are treated. For some reason I like to think: Max, Robin, Erica, and Suzie are a way of recognizing Barb’s potential within the series and even what viewers saw. 

Now stay tuned to where I figure out how Barb could have been beneficial to the party.

[hinshinotsuki]

🖤 Switched 🖤

***

***

(F/N) looked at all the people around her as they, too, looked at her.

Who could blame her or them for that matter? For, after all, she stood out like sore thumb.

It all began the next day when she woke up. Her eyes, upon opening against her own will, saw the same rustic ceiling, just like yesterday. She rubbed her tired eyes, wishing that this whole ordeal was just a long nightmare. But, upon opening them once more, unfortunately, she was as wide awake as anyone can be.

She sighed and finally got out of bed, finding her clothes neatly folded on the table beside her bed. Even her signature high heels were on the foot of the bed. She dressed up, carefully folding her hospital gown and putting it on the table. She wore her shoes, thinking it was a miracle that the water did not damage the very expensive pair in the least, and the same could be said with her dress. She walked idly around, looking for a mirror, and when she did find one, she stared at it and noticed the large bags beneath her eyes. Upon failing to find a hair brush, she began combing through her tangled tresses with her fingers, carefully untying the knots.

It was then that she heard a knock on the door. And before she could even let the visitor enter the room, it already opened the door and let itself in.

"Oh, hi there." It was the woman named Hange. Apparently, she doesn't know anything about privacy or space. "Had a good rest?"

"No." (F/N) answered, and it was the truth.

But, to this, Hange just laughed. "The others are waiting. Let's go."

And so, (F/N) let herself be accompanied by the woman towards the cafeteria, where a lot of people were already having breakfast. And the moment she stepped into the noisy and crowded room, numerous eyes noticed her. Some were about to greet her, but stopped upon seeing her. They remained still as she passed them. Some even gave her strange stares.

Oh, my God. She thought as she followed Hange.

But, it seems that Hange was unaffected by all of it as she arrived on the counter to get themselves a meal.

"Good morning, Sectio - " One of the Cadets in charge of the meals was about to greet her when she saw her companion. It was a tall teen with a long face and small eyes.

"Good morning, uhh,..."

"Jean Kirschtein, Section Commander." The teen provided his name.

"Oh, yeah. Good morning, Kirschtein! Two, please." Said  Hange, then flashed him a quick smirk. "One for me and another for Squad Leader (L/N)'s twin sister - "

"Twin?!" (F/N) uttered, startled at what she just heard. This made everyone, including Kirschtein, to look at her with suspicion.

However, Hange just laughed the whole situation off. "Oh, you, you're so funny,..." she said and took (F/N)'s right arm, pulling her towards the farthest table she could find, away from the recruits' prying eyes.

"What was that for?" (F/N) asked as she was forced to sit on a chair.

Hange just smiled at her, having a seat and never taking her eyes off her. "I messed up, big time,..." she whispered more to herself.

"What do you mean by that?" (F/N) asked, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

At this exact moment, all eyes were drawn to their vicinity. And at that exact moment, (F/N) realized that she stood out like a sore thumb among the people inside the cafeteria, who all wore similar 17th century something peasant clothing.

She cleared her throat, getting really nervous all of a sudden, and tried to divert her attention from the curiosity of the people, who started whispering at each other.

She moved closer towards Hange and said in a whisper, "Where exactly am I? If you don't mind me asking,..."

"Oh, not at all." Hange whispered back. "Well, seeing that you really have no idea what this place is or - "

"No!" (F/N) savagely interrupted Hange in a whisper.

"Okay! Okay! You are in Trost District, south of Wall Maria."

"Okay. And since when did Trost City become the center of Paradis' Renaissance period fair?"

"What did you say?"

"Renaissance!"

"No! Before that."

"Paradis? Aww, come on! Don't tell me you forgot the name of the country."

"Paradise, what?!"

"Excuse me, ladies?" Both (F/N) and Hange slightly jumped from their seats, startled at the interruption by the same  Cadet earlier. Jean was slightly surprised upon seeing this and just shrugged it off, handing them two trays of food containing their forgotten breakfast. "Here. You forgot to pick this up."

"Thank you, Jean." (F/N) said, gaining a strange look from the Cadet, who realized that he was just called by the bossiest Squad Leader in the Scouting Legion by his first name. His eyes widened for a fraction a second, then returned to normal. He smirked, nodded, and walked back towards the counter.

"Really?" Hange muttered after the teen left.

"What?" (F/N) asked, who eyed the really plain breakfast with a scrutinizing eye.

"Thank you? As in, thank you?"

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

Hange took her spoon and pointed it at her strange companion. "(F/N) never once expressed gratitude, let alone say those exact words you just said." the bespectacled woman said, then swallowed a spoonful of pale soup. "It's just like," she took the hard - looking bread then took a bite. "You're a completely different person."

(F/N) raised an eyebrow and returned her gaze at the breakfast. She took the bread first and almost gasped - it really was hard. "Maybe because I' am. And maybe you are, too. I mean, look at you," she bit the bread, not bothering to tear it into pieces, and instantly regretted her decision. "You have long hair, and your chest is big, and you look flat, I mean, down there,..."

"So, does that mean that Hans is a male?" Hange asked curiously.

"Of course, he is! Unless, he is hiding something from me, then,..."

"REMARKABLE!" Hange burst out, gaining the attention of all the people in the room. (F/N)'s heartbeat increased upon the reaction of her companion and tried to calm her down. The people, on the other hand, just went back to their meals upon realizing that it was just Hange and her sudden, crazy outbursts.

"I'm surprised you remembered Hans,..." (F/N) told her after Hange calmed down.

But, then, (F/N) immediately wished for the excited Hange to return, for the woman began smiling at her like a mad scientist. A really, really mad one, at that.

"Of course, I did!" Hange answered her. "And all the other things that happened last night. You see," she said, then gulped down another spoonful of cold soup. "Last night's events had me thinking."

"About what?"

"You! I was thinking that you really are not what you used to be. But, then, after analyzing all the words and stories that you said, the clothes that you wear, and that long, black, shiny, mirror - like thing that you have - "

"Wait a second here, YOU HAVE MY CELLPHONE?!"

"Sshh!" It was Hange's turn to calm (F/N) down. "Alright, I took it! But it was only for experimental purposes, I didn't mean to use it,..."

"I swear, Hange, or whatever you are called, if you break it, or scratch it in the least - "

"I did not! Okay?" Hange said, successfully calming (F/N) down, and returned to their topic. "So, as I was saying," she grabbed the bread and took a huge bite out of it. "Upon analysis of all the things that you have, I assume that - "

(F/N) slowly looked at her, waiting curiously at her huge reveal. "Go on."

Hange gulped down and closed her eyes. And when she opened them once more, they were filled with excitement like that of a child's, who was about to open a Christmas gift from a really wealthy person. "(F/N), I' am a hundred percent positive that you came from another world."

(F/N) absorbed what Hange just said and just chuckled. "I was beginning to think that, yes. Unless, you are pulling some elaborate prank on me,..."

"We're not! Anyway, the reason I said that is due to the way you are dressed. I've seen Wall Sina fashion, and I'm sure that yours is a whole different story. And not to mention those shoes with the pointy things,..."

"Heels. They're high heels."

"Oh, so that's what it's called, huh? High heels?" Hange said, then went closer to (F/N). Too close, in fact. "And that black, smooth thing is a cellphone? What does a cellphone do, aside from being used as a mirror?"

"First of all, it's not a mirror. Well, sometimes, people do use it like that. You can do lots of things with a cellphone nowadays, compared to old models where you can only send messages and call loved ones,..."

(F/N) stopped for a moment upon realizing that Hange was hanging on to her every word like a child who was eagerly waiting for the next scenario of a fairy tail. Not to mention the drool that was forming on the edge of her lips.

"Ahh, so, that's a cellphone,..."

"Hange, are you okay?"  (F/N) asked, fully aware that she, herself, coming from another world would mean something really huge not only for Hange, but for her, as well.

"Yes. And what else does a cellphone do?"

"Hange, I wish I could show you, but I don't have it right now,..."

"Then, let's go!" Hange almost shrieked, stood up from her chair, grabbed (F/N) by her skinny arm once more, and dragged her someplace else,...

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

[serendipitousrendezvous-blog]

Break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored.

[Gif From WeHeartIt]

Pairing: Yoongi x y/n.

Word count: 4k

Genre: Office worker!au. Angst, fluff and smut.

Warnings: Mature content / NSFW, descriptions of alcohol consumption, cheating.

“Took one fuckin’ look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste…”

Just another dull day at your job as an office assistant, you sighed while doing some paper work. “Laura, wanna go grab some coffee later?” you said to the older woman that works at the front desk.

“Sure but you look a bit down today, is everything ok?”

“I’m ok, just a bit bored!” You said trying to sound convincing.

“I see! I’ll take those boxes to storage, could you please stay in my desk for a while?” She says while rushing to grab them.

“Sure!!” You get up while adjusting your glasses.

As soon as Laura disappears in the stairs you hear someone clearing their throat at your right side. You turn around to face the stranger demanding attention. A tall and pale man, looking at you with a puzzled expression. His hair is blonde and slightly pushed back, exposing his forehead and his small and delicate features.

“How can I help you?” Your voice just as calm as a whisper.

“I came from X office to collect some papers, for financial analysis… Laura normally has them ready… hm-” He looks around her desk trying to catch a glimpse of them. You notice his lips are pouting in a cute way.

“She’ll come back in a while, do you mind waiting?” You say trying to make eye contact.

“I’m in a rush actually! Look it’s a big blue envelope with a red zip tie on it…” His eyes are still eagerly wandering on the table, not even once they rise to meet yours. Funny.

You start to search for it on the drawers and under endless papers, “Blue you said?! Hm… This one?” You watch as a smile arises on the corner of his lips.

“Yes. Thank you! And I need you to sign on here.” He hands a piece of paper to you while trying to clutch the blue envelope with the other hand, unsuccessfully as he drops everything. You smile, finding cuteness in his clumsiness. “Easy there!” And with a deep sigh his smile quickly changes into an annoyed expression.

Laura returns giggling. “Having one of those days, sweetheart? Also y/n, thank you ~ thank you!” She signs the paper and the boy quickly rushes through the glass door into the street.

The day goes by and it’s already time to go home. As you hop on the subway train you can’t help but daydream about the early encounter with the delivery boy, you want to know more about him; his cute lips definitely caught your attention. Your phone vibrates waking you up.

-

Yuna: We going out tonight, baby.

Y/N: girl, YES!

Yuna: Come to my place to get ready, see ya xoxo

Y/N: see yaaaa~

-

Your best friend knows exactly how to cheer you up and after a long boring day going out for drinks sounds like fun. You hop off a station early and quick on your feet towards Yuna’s place. She opens the door with a huge playful smile and jumps into your arms, you reciprocate her embrace. You guys met at college and had a quick affair, if it can even be called that way, for six months before deciding to just be friends. Best friends, always there for each other!

“There’s this new place I’ll take you tonight, come in let’s get ready.” As you both get in, pop music is already blasting in her room. Typical girl’s night out.

“So, today a new guy showed up at my work and he’s so cute haha I need to get to know him, you know…” Yuna is dancing around the room, getting in the mood. “Tell me more about it, what’s his name?” You stop doing your makeup and looks at the ceiling, pouting “I have no idea, actually!”

“You not even naming your toys anymore, y/n?!” You both fall back laughing.

“It’s not like I care” You mumble while styling your curly hair into a half up-do, leaving a few strands of hair fall to the sides of your face. “I’m ready, let’s goooo.”

Getting to this new place she mentioned, you can’t help be feel fascinated by the lights hanging above the bar, each of them in different sizes like stars, the whole ambient is cozy but still fancy, a few tables placed around the bar and a dance floor at the center. Yuna grabs your hand to head towards the counter to order drinks.

After a few sips it’s time to dance and mingle with the others, on the dance floor you can sense people staring at you and Yuna having fun. You take another sip feeling your throat burn, then you close your eyes letting your mind wander with the heavy bass beat of the song playing. You feel dizzy and light at the same time, spinning around in your tight red dress, losing your balance for a second because of the super high heels you choose for the night when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open your eyes in surprise and ready to apologize or to knock someone down, for your luck it’s Yuna and a man wrapping one of his arms around her waist, they’re both smiling.

“Y/n, this is Hoseok! My friend and owner of this amazing place.” He stretches his hand to you. “I see you’re having fun, girl.” You reach his hand. “Nice to meet you, I love what you did with the ceiling by the way!” Hoseok is a tall and slim man, super well dressed and with a heart shaped smile. He looks more like a model than a business owner.

“I’m glad you like it, now if you excuse me I have to keep this party going but, order whatever you want it’s on me today, girls” He blinks putting his hand up. Everyone is all smiles as he does a reverence and leaves holding hands with his boyfriend, you guessed.

Back at the bar you sit down trying to catch your breath after dancing frantically, a few ‘on the house’ drinks later and your friend Yuna is disappearing with someone in the middle of this sea of people. You decide to go out for a breath of fresh air. Hoseok is also outside smoking and talking with a few acquaintances, he notices you standing outside and shouts “Hey Yuna’s friend, y/n right?! Join us.” You stagger your way towards them and Hoseok notices it. “Actually let’s go back inside, I bet your heels are killing you!” You laugh in relief “You’re absolutely right, omg.”

Everyone is guided to a secluded section upstairs, illuminated by purple lights around the ceiling, black couches disposed around and a few sculptures making this place look super fancy. This must be the VIP section, you think to yourself! You see Yuna is already up here with someone, you both smile at each other as you walk around this new place admiring the figures dancing on the dance floor ahead of you. “Take a sit!” Hoseok is accommodating everyone and making sure the drinks keep coming, you chat a little bit with him and his boyfriend.

After a while you notice the boy with blonde hair staring at you. Your eyes meet his; he quickly looks somewhere else with a look of discomfort all over his face. He keeps checking his phone from time to time while sipping on a drink. You get up to dance again, sometimes peaking at him to get a reaction, why not. As you get closer to him you notice his cheeks are slightly red, “Won’t you dance?”

The boy looks up at you standing in front of him, surprised and smiles, “Ah, I don’t know how.” He takes a big sip of his drink and gets up, anyway.

“Nice to meet you, again!” you give him a cute grin. “Nice to meet you, again! Y/n, right? I’m Yoongi.” He definitely noticed you. After exchanging more work related words you can’t keep yourself from staring at his lips and how sweet they may taste, he’s smiling more now and his cheeks are no longer red, as the conversation progress you both find things in common besides graduating from the same major that he’s still attending. His arm touching your arm from time to time.

A few sips later and he’s swirling you around, one of his hands holding your hips every now and then. The song slows down and he pulls you closer, your eyes meet as you notice he’s flustered.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you lovebirds but it’s time to go!” A giggling voice interrupts your conversation, it’s Yuna. His cheeks are awfully red now which makes him look cute. You both turn around quickly to face her when you lose balance for a second, Yoongi’s hand is agile and firm to hold your back, preventing you from falling; Yuna holds your arm and you feel his warm hand quickly fall from your body, you lock eyes with him again until Yuna’s voice snaps you back, “y/n, you ok?” He looks down now, one hand on the back of his neck.

“I think I drank too much, maybe… but I’m fine. Let’s go home then, babe” You say wrapping your hands on your best friend’s shoulders and pulling her closer. Yoongi, flashes a weak smile as he says goodbye and you watch his skinny figure going down the stairs, on his way out he looks back one last time to where you guys were standing. And you raise your hand giving him one last cynical wave.

——

You can’t help but keep remembering that night and his warm touch, when the front door of the office opens and you see Yoongi entering the building, wearing a cheap but well maintained black suit, typical of an intern. His blond hair covering his eyes because of the wind outside. He looks at you with his signature soft smile.

“Hey y/n.” He says biting his lower lip.

“Hi Yoongi, meeting someone important today?” You say pointing at him; you two make small talk while Laura sign his papers. He turns around and wave a goodbye from the front door while making his way out, you follow him with your eyes.

“I see. You’re friends now?” Laura scoffs.

“For the time being. Yes!” You say confidently.

“Ah y/n, I wish I had your confidence when I was your age.” You look at her with a huge smile on your face.

For the following weeks, you’ve been talking with Yoongi on his brief errands at your work when you decide to ask him for a coffee date, he looks caught by surprised at your invitation, “I’ve been busy with work and uni but sure! I know this place that serves a really good cappuccino, you’ll love it.” He says smiling.

“Here, gimme your phone!” You save your number on his phone, “Text me the address, ok!” He looks a little uncomfortable again but you’re used to it by now.

-

?: It’s me, Yoongi

Yoongi: This is the place I told you about and I’m free this saturday too, js

Y/N:  ok, I think I can make it saturday too :)

Yoongi: Can’t wait

-

You arrive at the cafeteria and you see Yoongi already sitting in the back wearing ripped jeans and a gray oversized hoodie, his hair is messy different from his daily kept look.

“Hey y/n, here!” You make your way to him and sit down, “Aren’t you cold?” he says pointing at your dress.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting the weather would betray me!” You say and he laughs at your annoyed tone.

You spend the afternoon with him talking about dreams and life.

On the way out he says all excited, “I told you the coffee there was out of this world!” the boy says putting his hands inside of his hoodie pockets, ”Are you going to subway 3?”

“Yes and what about you?”

“Same, let’s walk together, then.” The sun is going down leaving the sky orange colored, you look at his pale face almost reflecting the soft sun light, the lips you want so bad are plump and red because of the cold wind. He looks back at you with a serious aura on his face, almost as he wants to ask something or say something; as your eyes meet he turns his head around at the cars on the street, not giving you time to say anything. A chilly breeze made you quiver and Yoongi quickly says, “Take my hoodie, already!” his voice was calm.

“it’s ok, my place is close to the subway.” The colder it got the more Yoongi tried to convince you to take his hoodie, you denied again and again, until he put his hands on your shoulder and rubbed the sides of your arms up and down, you melted at his warm touch, he was caressing your bare tanned skin in a slow motion making sure you’d feel warm. You turned around and looked into his eyes, you both got closer to the point where you felt the tip of his nose touch yours, he looked down immediately his cheeks instantly turned crimson red when he noticed what he was doing pulling away from you quickly.

“What’s wrong, Yoongi?” you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Nothing!” Yoongi said while rubbing the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to say.

“Yoongi… Why are you so hesitant?”

“I had fun today but I don’t think we should do this. I’m kind of seeing someone now and we’re getting serious…” He said while looking at the floor, not having the courage to look at your face, waiting to be scolded.

“And what about it?” You sounded cynical.

“I like our friendship but I can’t do this to you.” His eyes now are trying to figure out your expression.

“You’re not doing anything to me!” You blinked trying to ease the tension in the air, in vain! An awkward silence followed you both until the subway entrance. It was time to part ways, commonly you went to give him a hug and you noticed again his hesitance.

You went the whole ride back home skeptical, not sure about what had just happened and after this Yoongi was different, more quiet and cold around you and not texting you just as much as he did before.

“What was it? It didn’t work out or you were late?” Laura asked.

“Hm? What are you talking about?” you asked with a puzzled look on your face.

“Yoongi told me that he started dating someone.” She said in a careful way, pausing and waiting for your reaction.

“Oh, is that so?” You shrugged. “I already knew haha we’re just friends, really and besides I don’t date.”

Later on that day you got a text from your best friend.

-

Yuna: Hoseok’s tonight?

Y/n: ok, I’m bringing a friend to party with us ;)

Yuna: that boy… Yoongi?

Y/n: yep.

Yuna: can’t believe you but I’m not judging xoxo  

-

You were bored and why not?! You always got what you wanted and with him wouldn’t be different.

-

Y/n: hey wanna go clubbing tonight?

Yoongi: sure :)

-

You finished doing your makeup adding a cherry red lipstick. Put on a black dress that accentuated you waist, leather jacket, high heels and you were ready to walk out the door. You went all the way to the club thinking about Yoongi and about what Laura said earlier, you weren’t a bad person but the fact that he has a girlfriend still echoed in your mind. Were you so wrong in pursuing him? How serious is their relationship for him to contemplate kissing you that other day? You were always a free spirit, dating was out of context, you enjoyed your freedom more than anything else and maybe that could be what Yoongi was missing, freedom!

At the club and went to greet Hoseok and Yuna. “I really need a drink today, guys!” They laughed and you walked towards the bar.

A few sips later, you and your friends sit at one of the couches when you see Yoongi arriving with someone and that someone must be his girlfriend, he’s wearing combat boots and a leather jacket very similar to yours, you can’t help but feel your heart beat faster. You put your hand up signalizing to him where you were sitting. As he makes the way through the crowd you get up to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, Yoongi looks at you up and down with a smirk trying to escape from his lips, then you realize the girl is now closer to him and placing her hand on his chest, “y/n this is Ana and Ana this is my friend y/n”, the short girl smiles at you and quickly looks up at Yoongi. You laugh.

“Sit here and drink with us.” You point at the couch.

Ana and Yoongi sit in front of you, he looks calm while handing her a drink, his eyes shining. A few drinks later and his girlfriend says pouting, “Yoon, I want to dance with you.” He promptly gets up and leads her towards the dance floor. You watch as he moves in a stiff way, pulling her close when the song gets slower, his eyes wander in your direction from time to time when you finally get up and strut to the dance floor, eyes locked on his.

She notices you coming and signalizes to you to dance with her, Yoongi hesitates at first until he gets the approval look from his girl, probably having the time of his life taking turns between the two girls.

She grabs your hand and drags you to the bar counter and Yoongi follows you two like a puppy “Let’s make a toast! Yoon, my drink.” She ordered and he quickly gave her one. You keep laughing at him, “To new friends!” and you reply looking at him with a smirk “yeah… Friends!”

Later you make you’re on the dance floor, grinding on a stranger while looking at your desired target sitting on a couch obeying every order from his girlfriend. You dismiss the unknown guy and leave the dance floor to one of the VIP sections where you order another drink, this time it’s not sweet but dry and it goes down burning your lungs. Suddenly Yoongi comes from behind you, “can I take a sip?” he says looking at your cup.

“Go ahead.” You watch as he downs the whiskey left on your cup.

“Looks like we matched today!” You say while running your hand in the lapel of his jacket, he immediately grabs your hand for a moment before finally dropping it and looking around in concern, you chuckle. “Don’t worry, she’s not up here, Yoongi.”

“y/n what do you want?” he sighs.

“You should ask yourself but I guess you already know the answer.” You say adamantly.

“I- …” He fails to find words.

“Don’t get so upset over it!” You say while lifting his head with your index finger, he turns his head rejecting your touch. “Fine, do whatever you want but don’t play the innocent card, not with me.”

“I won’t cheat on her with you. Now quit it!” He gently grabs your arm and pulls you closer.

“If you want it so bad and you know you do, break up with her…” You say bluntly while getting closer to him, you can feel his hand get tighter around your arm and his breath gets heavier. “If it makes you feel better.”

You lock eyes with Yoongi when you feel his lips violently trying to find fulfilment in yours. You push him against a wall still not breaking the kiss, his back crashes with the wall behind making him moan, his hands are now caressing your waist and his body is hard against yours. You give his lips one last bite before breaking the kiss to search for air. Yoongi looks at you with a painful look in his eyes while pulling you away.

“I should go.” He says while licking his lips.

“Don’t bother.” You say while making your way towards the stairs leaving Yoongi behind, you can’t deny your body is still heated from the kiss you shared and how you melt into his arms.

Yoongi tries to reach you next to the dance floor when his girlfriend appears, you keep walking when you hear she’s asking where you two were.

Outside the club you grab your phone and text Yuna to say you’re going home earlier, inside the taxi you smile at yourself when your mind keeps replaying the kiss.

——–

A week later you get a text.

-

Yoongi: You up?

Y/n: yes

Yoongi: Can I see you for a moment?

Y/n: meet me at that coffee place then

Yoongi: ok

-

You arrive before him and order tea, the mug is warm and you wrap your hands around it, your fingertips throb in response to the high temperature. Your eyes are staring at the door, waiting for him to walk through it and do what they always do, apologize and talk about how regretful he feels. You’ve heard it all before and it didn’t touch you a bit!

Yoongi comes and goes straight to the counter to place an order and then proceeds to sit across the table to face you. “Hey, you ok?”

“I’m great, what about you? Let me guess-” You say coldly before being interrupted.

“I want to apologize for what happened.” He looks down and you notice he’s fidgeting.

“Yoongi, I liked it.” You don’t mind being blunt and you notice his cheeks going red.

“Y/n, I feel awful… For feeling the same.” There it is, get it out of your chest! You think to yourself.

“Stop this pity party, please! C’mon, let’s go for a walk.” You say while going towards the door and Yoongi follows you.

You lead the way. Yoongi is silent, eyes cast down. The night life is starting, people are starting to fill the streets. You keep looking at his face, you want to touch his hair again, feel his lips on yours like before, his gentle touch, his body against you. Just like that. His voice breaks your hallucination.

“I don’t know what to do! I don’t know if I could, if I should.”

“You do, you’re just scared but it’s OK.” You say placing a hand on his shoulder and he gently put his hand over yours. “What’s the point in overthinking this whole thing?!”

“Why are you acting like this? Aren’t you upset that I’m going for you when I have a girlfriend?” He says with frustration in his voice.

“No, save your breath.” You say while placing yourself in front of him, face to face. He looks into your eyes this time without hesitation or discomfort but with determination. You lean closer and he runs his hand in your cheek and down to your lips, you place a little peck on his thumb, Yoongi holds your face with his hands taking time to appreciate your features, to brush the tip of his nose on yours.

“You make me wanna be bad, y/n.”

Yoongi slowly kisses you, taking his time to savor the moment. Your run your hands through his blonde hair. He proceeds to place one hand in your waist to pull you closer; his touch, contrary to his lips, is tight full of desire, he wants more of you. He slowly break the kiss with little pecks and finally placing one in your forehead. You rest your head on his chest inhaling his spicy but sweet perfume, you know his heart is beating faster, “Come to my place.” you say in a whisper, Yoongi nods before hugging you tighter.

A soon as you two get inside Yoongi pulls you quickly against the door to place another peck on your forehead before kissing you again. You drop your bag on the floor while he gets rid of your jacket, he’s not holding back anymore and neither is you.

You push him against the wall while taking off your blouse, he does the same exposing his pale chest now in touch with your skin. His hands grips your ass and lifts you up, Yoongi place a few kisses on your chest. Not wasting any more time you drag Yoongi to your room, next to the bed you lightly push him down. “So mean.” He teases.

“You have no idea!” You say getting on top of him, untying his jeans and exposing his hard member inside his underwear. You kiss his chest making sure it’ll leave hickeys behind, tracing your way towards his belly. His breath is louder now and he mumbles a “fuck…” You tease him by stopping midway close to the elastic of his boxers to pull his pants down.

Yoongi proceeds to take off your pants and undo your bra, he carefully places you on the bed, kissing your neck and going down to suck on the tip of your breasts, you shiver in pleasure, he keeps going down placing kisses on your body.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n.” He takes your underwear slowly, you’re totally exposed now and aching for more, “I’m dying to taste you.” Yoongi whispers and fiercely opens your legs to bury his face between them without hesitation; “You’re all wet for me already, babe!” a little moan leaves your mouth making him fast the pace of his tongue, his hands squeeze your thighs harder and harder while you arch your back.

“Yoongi!” You kept moaning louder and louder.

He knew exactly what he was doing placing two fingers at your entrance, you were so close to coming now but you wanted him inside of you first. “I want you. I want you, now!” you said pulling him up noticing the precum mark on his gray boxers. You quickly opened the drawer on your nightstand to grab a condom and reached his member, “Lay down.” You carefully put the condom on him and licked the length of his cock making him moan, still keeping eye contact you took his tip on your mouth moving your tongue around and finally sucking on it, he was inside of your mouth now and you were greedy taking it all making his tip touch your throat, he moaned louder and a few tears rolled down your cheek.

“Fuck! You’re so good.” He moaned and grabbed the sheets when you sucked harder. You couldn’t wait anymore, you got up and kissed his lips again before rubbing your clit against his member a few times before slowly putting it inside, adjusting yourself to the thickness of his member, when you took it all in he sighed deeply in satisfaction.

You rode him intercalating your velocity driving him crazy. In a sudden move he turned around making you fall on the bed, Yoongi is on top now moving furiously making you scratch his back. He circles small and delicate circles on your clit, while fastening his pace. “Faster!” You order. A few strokes and he’s a sweating mess.

“I’m close, y/n.” Still rubbing you and holding one of your hands in a tight grip you two melt away in pleasure, your moans are louder now. Yoongi finds strength to a few more strokes before falling on top of you, head resting on your shoulder when you hear him chuckle when your insides throb around his cock. “You’re so thigh, so so good.” He says placing a kiss on your forehead and falling to your side.

“You’re not that bad…” You say making laugh. You two are still breathing heavy when he pulls you closer to his chest and caress your head in silence while the clock ticks the night away, your eyelids feel heavy and you fight the urge to tell him leave falling asleep with his arms wrapped around you.

End.

Notes: I hope you like it and let me know whatever you think of it, ok?! I thought about making a sequence to this, the *chef’s kiss* angsty final, if you’d like to read it let me know too!!!

 As you may have noticed I suck at describing stuff and I absolutely don’t know how to use a comma, BUT I have time to improve!

[dylanssourwolf]

Sterek AU: Never Trust A Skinny Baker | Stiles just wanted to come home and run his bakery with Scott, but of course normalcy isn't something he'll ever find in Beacon Hills. The FBI thrust him into an undercover investigation of what they think is a serial killer, and Stiles already knows it's something different. Worst of all, there's a model that keeps coming in for cupcakes between shoots. He's angry and beautiful and an alpha werewolf that happens to be Stiles's best customer. What could go wrong? Oh yeah, he's a main suspect in the fucking case. All Stiles has to do is not get murdered by whatever homicidal monster is out there, all the while trying desperately to not fall for ominous Derek Hale. Let's just hope he doesn't get compromised.

Read the whole thing here: NTASB

           “You do understand the risks of this operation, yes?” Agent Raphael McCall turns to look at his lanky intern. “This thing is dangerous, primal, and will not hesitate to kill again. We shouldn’t even be letting you do this.” He sits back down in his chair and takes a deep breath as he slides the case file across his large, oak desk. The boy picks it up and wastes no time in flipping through photos and autopsy reports as Agent McCall leans forward on his forearms to speak in a hushed tone. “You absolutely cannot tell anyone while you’re investigating. Not Lydia, not the Argents, and definitely not my son. Comprende? I know his nose is probably stuck into this mess already, but under no circumstance do you compromise yourself.”             Agent McCall reaches forward and snatches the file back and goes through the important details, skimming over the police reports and the crime scene photos right to the last couple pages in the folder. “Everything in this packet is what you need to learn. It’s your alias. Your reasons for coming home, what you’ve been up to here at the FBI headquarters, how your internship is going, everything. You say nothing that isn’t in this packet.”                     “What if the answers aren’t in this packet? Do I call you o-or like, shoot a text?” He makes finger guns and receives a glare from the agent in response. “You know what? I’m great at improvising, I’m sure I can just, uh, make something up based on this—” he wiggles the pages midair, “—incredibly thorough biography.”            He rises from his seat in front of the desk and Agent McCall follows suit. “The only people you consult with are your father and the rest of the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department. They’ve already been briefed and await your arrival.” He reaches into his suit pocket and tosses a pair of keys at the boy. “We pulled some strings and got Scott to send your car up. It’s parked out front.”            “Whoa, wait—”            The agent stops from his departure and takes another deep breath as he turns around at the kid behind him. “What is it?”            “Do I have a cool code name or anything?” He starts bobbing his head to music that isn’t playing. “I could be like, Batman or something.”            McCall opens the office door and shakes his head. “You’re going home. You don’t need one.” He motions for the kid to leave. “Your alias is just yourself, Stiles Stilinski.”            Stiles’s face falls into pursed lips. “Whatever. I’m going.” He jingles his keys as he walks out of the office and into an array of cubicles. “Hey one more th—” He turns and the door closes. And locks. Twice.            “Just go do your job, Stiles,” Agent McCall says through the door. “This creature isn’t going to catch itself.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

          Chocanthropy is what they agree on. It took a teeny bit of persuading, but once he had Scott convinced he’d be home for a couple months taking a break from his internship at the FBI, they rounded up their cash and bought an abandoned building repossessed by the county for a whopping $750 so that they could fulfill Stiles’s dream of opening a bakery together. He’d always had a passion for baking; it was an activity he usually did with his mother but after she’d gotten sick, he just stopped doing it and it was as if that part of him was fading away with her. Stiles wasn’t about to let that happen. Baking was one of the best things his mother had ever taught him, one of the only things rather. He’d made everything from cakes and cookies, to the most incredible chocolate soufflé anyone has ever eaten, so the least he could do was take something he loved and start something for his mom.           Scott hangs the neon sign on the building, the eerie, unconventional font spelling out Chocanthropy in bright purple. The silhouette of a howling wolf curves around behind the lettering and lights up a pale white, contrasting against the blue of the subtext reading Bake Shop. It gives Stiles chills to know that this is theirs. They paid for it.

          “We’re officially open for business.”           Scott gives Stiles a high five as they head back into the shop. The wallpaper is lavender with white crown molding along the border. The dark wood flooring expands the length of the small shop and booths of black vinyl stretch along the right wall. There’s a record player in the corner and a couple dozen strands of string lights running underneath the edge of the dark wooden countertop. Behind the counter is the menu, prominently displayed on a chalkboard hanging from a large piece of gray driftwood bolted to the ceiling. Pastry toppings rest in jars on the shelves along the back wall underneath the menu, a centerpiece for the artwork of wolves and werewolves that hang on the walls, all vintage movie posters from The Wolfman, Lycanthropus, and La Loba.             “The result of our hard work. It’s more perfect than I’d ever imagined.” Scott watches Stiles beam as his amber eyes scan the shop.           “Your mom would’ve loved this, you know. I’m sure she’s so proud of you.”           Stiles smiles, pulling Scott in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you, bro. Thanks.”

          He spends the rest of his day in the kitchen, baking batches of cookies and cupcakes to sell the following day. He faintly hears Scott on the phone with the Beacon Hills Tribune trying to get an ad space for their shop. He lets the indie record on the player set into his bones while the pastry bag of rosy strawberry icing sets in his hand. Around the edge, fill the middle, curl the top. He’s got flour on his hands and smeared all over his face, the plaid apron around his waist decorated with streaks of food dye and icing. He’s got four dozen made and four dozen to go. It’s not like the daily flavors are going to bake themselves.           Stiles puts the strawberry icing down and flips through the recipe book on the metal counter behind him. Chocolate Guinness or Patty Cake? His mind wanders. He’s too consumed by the fact that the sink isn’t working properly and soaking himself to even hear the bell over the door ring.           “Hey, Scott!” He sounds desperate because, well, the water pressure was a bit high when he took the sprayer head off and now he’s flooded the kitchen. “This stupid sink is broken!” He’s managed to shut the water off. Stiles angrily grips the sprayer nozzle in one hand and heads out of the kitchen to look for Scott when he notices a man staring at the movie posters hanging on the walls. He overestimates the length of the hose and is yanked right back into the kitchen.           “Oh my God, please tell me you weren’t waiting long,” Stiles dashes out and panics, running his fingers through his dripping hair. “The sink broke and I have no experience in fixing those kinds of things and I have no idea where Scott went so I—”           “Do you have any red velvet cupcakes?” The man doesn’t turn around.           Stiles blinks. “Uh, yeah.” His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. Nervous habit. “I just made two dozen.”           The guy looks like he’s come straight out of a movie. The dark jeans he’s got on lay perfectly over the curve of his hips and wrinkle around his black boots. He turns, and Stiles notices how his jacket hangs over his broad shoulders. The smooth, oiled leather draws the attention right to the gorgeous light green eyes currently glaring at Stiles from the opposite side of the counter. “I’ll take a dozen.”           “Sure, okay. Give me a second to pack them up.” Stiles offers a small smile to the man who just continues to stew in a shroud of vexation. He disappears in the back room to find Scott jotting down information just before he hangs up the phone.           “Stiles! So, we got an ad in tomorrow's paper!”           “That’s great. Can you help me with…?” Stiles nods toward the door and guides Scott out in front of him. “He wants a dozen red velvet.”           "On it,” Scott says, stopping at the register to let Stiles scurry behind him into the kitchen to box up twelve perfectly decorated cupcakes. He seals the edge of the purple box with a sticker that reads, Never Trust a Skinny Baker and a logo printed underneath. He brings the box out and pushes it across the counter just as Scott closes the register.           “This, is for you,” Stiles chimes, sticking a business card on top of the box. The man glances between Scott and Stiles before he grumbles something incoherent. "Enjoy your cupcakes,” Stiles beams with artificial charm. “Tell all your friends about us.” Stiles gets an eyebrow lift in return before the man grabs the box and heads back out the door.           “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Stiles mumbles something about being pleasant and lets Scott go back to the storage room to print out some flyers their friends agreed to hand out. "Something doesn’t set right with me," Scott says, turning briefly to look at his best friend before continuing to the back of the shop. “That guy gave me a weird vibe.”           Stiles shrugs and brushes it off. “Hey, is Allison coming?”           “Yeah,” Scott yells. “She’s supposed to bring Lydia and Isaac, too.” Stiles shuffles back into the kitchen to pick up the bag of strawberry icing again, trying to figure out why that pair of jade eyes looks so familiar.

[sending-the-message]

HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL AND THIN by Skelethin

Hello everyone, so, uh, I want to be beautiful and thin. And I’ll tell you exactly how you can too!

There’s a storm deep within me that’s dying to get out. It’s a storm of rage and self hate, constantly gnawing at my fat to escape. I must admit, I’m not fat and I never have been. I have always been a size small, since I’m 5’3 and 105 lbs to begin with. What hurts more is that I’m simply average. Normal body, normal size, normal everything. I’m considered “normal thin”, and not fat nor skinny. I’ve never been anything special. I’m 15 and I frequently enjoy, well, different things than your average teen. I’m obsessed with books, and only classic literature. I only listen to classical music and I play a few instruments, as well as spend my time writing poetry and practicing ballet En Pointe.

Anyway, now that you know a little bit about me, I’m here to tell you exactly how I got thin and beautiful. So, I had tried everything at this point; being Vegan for a few months, which resulted in Anaemia, I tried the Keto diet, which also didn’t work. I even tried diet pills, which no, did not give me a tapeworm. I will admit, I was losing 4 pounds per week, but that’s simply not enough. How do people even have the patience to diet for months while losing as little as 1-4 lbs per week? I didn’t. I had to find a way to speed up the process. I stumbled across a diet known as an “Ana Diet”, unbeknownst to me, it definitely would work. It was on some website called “AnaBones4evur.com” and i figured it was a spam site at first, since it popped up like an annoying ad on the bottom of my computer when I was searching other legit dieting websites. This one didn’t seem professional, as it was a minimalistic page. The font looked as if it were tipping and falling off the page, as well as little blue sparks were glitching all over the deep black wallpaper of the website. I looked closer, and I noticed that the millions of little blue sparks that were glitching were in fact mini pixel butterflies. Strange. There were only a few links displayed on the page, which were clearly misspelt.

There was an “Abooout”, an “FAQ”, a “Store” And a “Dietes, Tricks and Ttipss”. Now, I know what you’re thinking, clearly it’s a fake scam website as all the red flags were there. Mind you, I was absolutely desperate to lose weight. As silly as this sounds, I couldn’t just be happy and satisfied with a body like any average girl. I wanted mine to be surreal, angelic, ethereal, like sharp jagged bones protruding like glass. So first, I clicked on the store. There weren’t many items being sold; just scales, measuring tapes, laxatives, diuretics, exercise merch, and a bunch of purple bracelets with the same bluebell butterfly symbol on them. The prices were all surprisingly low, and I hoped that the FAQ would say something about the butterfly, so I clicked on that next.

There were only 5 Questions with short non-detailed answers below. It’s weird, since all the questions seemed odd but well punctuated, and the answers from the website host was misspelling everything and often using foreign letters such as “ ç, ż, ł, ß, æ, ø, œ, ü, ę, ŵ, etc.” It was strange. One of the questions was “How long does it take to lose about 60 lbs?” And the host answered “well, if you follow all the ÅNNNNÁ rules, then you will lose 60 lbs in about 5 months. Usūally yoau losę 8 pounds p3er ŵeek (((:” the rest of the questions weren’t very important. So I clicked “Abooout” and it was also short paragraphed. It looked a little like this:

“Hallo And Welcym freinds!!! U are now part of the ÁnNa famly. Everywun who joyns, is my fellowe sister or brothear!! U can onlye be acepTed on 1 Condishin. You MUST FOLLEW allkklllllll the rules. If u fail to follew evry rool, u will be BANNED FROm THISE WEBSIGHT. How will I Kno if u breyk a rule?? TrUuuuuust me. I kno. I am Alwaus Watching u. It u sighn up here, I Will Automauticalli have Access to sey what u r doing 24 HRs A DAY. SeveRe Punichment will come ur way if u Brayk a rule.

Remember, have Fün and liive Dangeroushly!!”

Xoxoxo- MIA

Finally, I clicked the diet, tricks, and tips. All of them were normal enough, at least at first. “Eat only X amount of calories per day” and the punishment is, if you eat over 900 calories then you will have severe nightmares for 8 days. You have 3 strikes. If you go over 900 for the third time in a row, you will have severe physical pains. I don’t believe in a lot of supernatural stuff, I mean, I believe in ghosts, but not that some random person on the internet has the power to control your mind and your body. You have to exercise until you faint, if you stop exercising and you’re still able to walk and stand fine, then you aren’t doing it enough. You must count and measure everything that goes in your mouth. You must make yourself throw up in case you accidentally consume a little extra calories. I hate vomit, but if it will make me lose weight, I will do it.

So I tried. On August 1st I began my diet. I restricted. That was the main word etched in my mind: Restriction Restriction. Other words were “Willpower” and “Self Control.” I have the willpower to restrict my calories, and I feel like I am the Goddess of my own body. I have immense self-control that people often express how jealous they are, that I easily decline delicious sweets being offered to me. Every time my stomach rumbles and moans and screams at me for my cruelty, I smack it and tell it that it’s not hungry, just bored. Who knew that feeling hungry and empty felt so good?? The “full” feeling I used to feel when I ate normally was disgusting. Bloated belly, full of food, now is empty shrinking belly. I feel so weightless, like a feather. I hated vomit, but soon I began to vomit 5 times a day. I never went over my calories. I was gonna be the one to do everything perfectly so I can impress Mia. I will be the number one winner in her dieting contest. She will absolutely love me. She expresses adoration for me already. Her little voice in my head constantly praises me after a good purge.

September 10th: I feel so nauseous. My bones ache and my whole body is sore. I think I worked out too hard last night. My breath still reeks of last nights vomit even though I brushed them like, 12 times. I had to tell people my teeth are yellow because I ate something that contained food colouring. It’s tiring, having to pretend to make breakfast and lunch so my dad thinks I’m eating. Luckily he’s the only person I live with. It’s crazy how the only reason I manage to get out of bed is so I can weigh myself. The scale is my religion. I hated math, but now I love it. I’m the best at counting calories and measuring the size of my waist and my thighs, and that number that drops every day is amazing. I weighed in at 83 lbs today. My dad doesn’t know since my old clothes are the only thing I wear, and they’re huge on my delicate and dainty figure.

October 1st: I can’t even move. My long pretty fingernails are yellow and brittle and they constantly fall off whenever I scratch my dry, itchy head. My once thick mass of luscious blonde hair is dirty and greasy and stringy, falling out in clumps when I brush it, when I shower, and when I wake up. My skin feels like a snake; patchy and scaly. I’ve always been pale, but never like this. It’s a annoying how everyone asks if I’m sick or if I have a fever. They don’t know. They’ll NEVER understand. I’m constipated so I have to rely on 15 lax a day. I can’t sleep because I’m so hungry, and when I do sleep, all my dreams are food-related to me binging, and I wake up in a panic, crying since I think it’s real. I can’t walk 3 steps to my own bathroom in my own room. It hurts. I want to pass out and pant heavily whenever I walk up the stairs, as it feels as if I have walked 30 miles. I resorted to crawling everywhere. Sometimes, my dad has to carry me.

November 1st: I hate my my life. I used to have depression before, but it’s never been this severe. I feel like the more weight I lose, the more depressed I get. MIA LIED. She said I’d be happier once I’m thin. She promised I’d look like one of those models in the VS show. They don’t look as dead as I. My dad is a mortician, and he constantly remind me that I look and feel like a dead body. I’m cold, my skin is so so cold. I’m cold. I wore Uggs, Sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and thick blanket in 105 degrees and I was shivering and freezing. Every time I stand up my vision fades to black and all these black little dots dance around my blurry vision. It’s like when you stand up too fast you get dizzy spells, except it happens to me all the damn time. I have to lay down 4 towels on the toilet seat to go pee since it hurts my bones. I have to sleep on 5 blankets since it hurts my bones. I can’t sit on wooden chairs because it stabs my bones.

Everyone says they’re worried about me. Teachers pull me aside, my ballet instructor, the nurse, store owners when I go and order a Diet Coke during lunch rather than actual food. I don’t even look twice at the display of pastries. I’m successful. Everyone says I’m too thin and I need a doctor, blah blah blah. They’re wrong. They have no idea how long it took for me to get here. They have no idea how I desperately needed this. They have no idea all the effort I put. They need to appreciate how beautiful I am. I thought they’d praise me. They’re just denying I’m beautiful, they’re all jealous. They stare at me with haunting and pitying eyes and whisper behind my back. They gasp and gape at my body wherever I go. See how jealous they are? They want to be me. They’re just saying I’m dangerously thin because they wish my body was theirs. Well, I had to work for it. If being thin was easy, everyone would do it. We live in a world of gluttony where everyone is constantly stuffing their face, whereas I eat every other day.

December 1st: Too weak. Can’t move. I have missed school for a week now. My skin is more blue and purple than white, and it’s not my veins. My lips are dry and white with a slight pale red and swollen shut with dead skin hanging off. I have heavy and thick black bags underneath my eyes. I FEEL BEAUTIFUL. My body is covered in bruises, even though I do nothing but sit on my ass all day watching TV. Mia said it’s okay to stop exercising since I’m so weak, so I deserve a break. My metabolism is dead, and I’ve hit a few plateaus, but I’m almost to my goal weight. It’s funny because my goal weight gets lower and lower the more weight I lose. At 105 lbs my goal was 95. I got there, and I still looked obese. Then it was 85, got there, and still obese. 75, got there, and still obese. I’m currently 68 lbs and my goal is 59. 5 is my favourite number, and 9 is one less away from being the highest and the greatest: 10.

It’s so funny. It’s like I was blind my whole life. I never really thought I was fat, but Mia said to take one good look in the mirror, which opened my eyes, and suddenly, I realised, maybe I AM obese. Soon those protruding bones became rolls of fat and I physically transformed into a monster. My mirror was alive and moving. It kept morphing and twisting and distorting like a fun-house mirror. Why isn’t enough? I think I was born with a special body that can’t be skinny no matter how much weight I lose. That number on the scale will never be enough. It will never satisfy my cravings and my need for skinny. Maybe my goal should be 50.

December 10th: I’ve fainted 4 times so far. I get Charlie horses in my legs every night. My dad says I have low magnesium and blood pressure. As well has dangerously low blood sugar and severe iron deficiency. He’s lying. He just wants to make a big fat ass again. My heart rate is currently 40 BPM. There is one thing that i love, though, and that’s my period. It’s gone. I haven’t had it in forever. My dad keeps crying and getting on his knees and begging me to eat, telling me I’m painfully thin. He’s just MOCKING ME. Everyone who says I’m thin is a big fat liar. They know I’m an obese pig, they just want to lie to me. I’m the only one who sees my body truly for what it is, why can’t everyone else? I know the real me is fat. Apparently everyone else just looks shocked and surprised when I say I’m still fat. “Gaunt Girl” they call me. “Emaciated Evangeline” they call me. “Starving Sister” I’m called. “Skinny Minnie” “itty-bitty” “Malnourished.” Everyone calls me either a zombie, a vampire, or a ghost.

I don’t even FEEL alive. I feel more like I’m existing, but not living. I don’t feel like I have a life. It’s as if I’m a puppet. Or someone is playing with me like an unmoving doll. I can’t breathe, i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, and I feel dead. I feel brain dead. I can’t even move now. I lay on the couch all day, barely moving my head. I can’t even watch tv or go on my phone. I can’t even tell you what I said 3 minutes ago. My memory used to be intelligent and sharp, now I can’t remember anything. My vocabulary speaking-wise is that of a 5 year old. My mind is that of a 5 year old. I dumbed down as my malnourished brain and mental state deteriorated. I am nothing but a decomposing body, waiting to be as light as dust. Soon to be ashes. I can only really remember to speak 5 words “Hi, Bye, No, Yes, Okay.” THIS IS WHAT PERFECTION FEELS LIKE

December 17th: This is Evangeline’s Dad. I found her diary and all the sickening things she’s written in it about her diet and some website. Evangeline Elizabeth Winters was admitted to X hospital at X address for a possible cardiac arrest. It appears she was found unconscious in her bed. On December 16th 10:31 AM. She is thankfully not in a coma. They were able to shock her heart and revive her. It is an utter miracle that she is along the 2% of patients who are able to recover from cardiac arrest.

January 1st: Hello everyone, I’m back! I’m in the hospital and they have diagnosed me with something that ended in “Nervosa” and I can’t remember what the first part is. All I know is that Mia would be so proud of me. I got a message saying “I’m the official Ana of the website.” And apparently Ana is the highest ranking position. There are many Anas, but there’s only one true perfect Ana. Along with Mia, she promised we’d rule together! I can hear her talking in my head already. Apparently I’m forced to be submitted into an Inpatient facility at a mental hospital for a few months, as well as be supervised and regularly see a dietician, a doctor, and a psychiatrist. I did nothing wrong.. it’s just a diet. Why can’t anyone let me be skinny? Why do they want me to be fat?? I’d rather kill myself than be fat.

January 2cd: I managed to steal a knife off of the medical table while no one was looking. It’s 1:30am and I’m going to do the final step it takes to become a true Ana. Cut off the rest of my fat. My bones are in the way, but I’ll find the fat hiding behind them.

This is what perfection feels like. This is what perfection is. Perfection is death. I am thin and beautiful, and I can already see Mia’s shadowy figure smile at me with glowing fangs across my bed.

ThÁbks For raéDjng this And Becum a Membrrr of THe Dïett!!! -Evangel-AÑNÁ

[mellicose]

That Woman Over There - Chapter 7

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: teen, for some strong language

Word count: 5830

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Note: due to the length of this chapter, I won’t be posting the next one until next Wednesday. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7

He came back with drinks and sat hard beside her.

“Ow!” she yelled. “Your skinny ass is gonna leave a bruise!”

“Nonsense. I heard from very good sources that it’s quite nice,” he said. He drank deep from a longneck.

“What happened to those ladies you were working on? They looked pretty into it.”

“I gave them my business card,” he said dismissively.

“How analog of you,” she said. “Seriously, though. You just blew them off?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. There will always be bored, horny women. Any night of the week, at any pub. That shit never changes.” There was something in his tone that stopped her from becoming offended for all womankind.

“What happened?” she said.

“What? With the women?”

“With your wife,” she said.

Again, he lay back and looked at the stars peeking through the clouds.

“You can’t see the stars in the heart of the city,” he said. “It’s not something you think about when you move. It’s usually whether to buy a car or not, or whether there’s a nice supermarket nearby, but never whether you’ll see the stars at night,” he said. “It’s so weird how easily priorities get … skewed.”

She sighed.

“She wasn’t happy. She dieted and exercised and experimented with different looks, but she wasn’t getting signed. And as time passed, it got worse and worse. Anxiety ate her alive. She began to get surgeries. And I, the ever obliging husband, paid for them. But nothing worked. Nothing was good enough. Not the flat, the city, and most glaringly … me.”

Her stomach bubbled.

“She had a thing she did,” he continued. “A rare talent, if you want to call it that. I’m a grown man. No glasses. No brace. But she had a way, ever so subtly, to make me feel like that bent boy again. And as time passed and things didn’t go like she wanted, it happened more and more. Until I was the boy - just a weak, whinging thing at her feet, begging for the least scrap of affection or sympathy.”

It’s like he took a slice of life from her childhood. How many times had she peeked around corners as her mom berated her father for no other reason than ennui? He would withstand her onslaught, softly clucking out an occasional “perdoname, mi amor”. 

She spit poison, but he knelt, brown eyes liquid with adoration, and apologized to her. Every time. Every day. For years. He wore his misery and shame so openly that she found herself averting her eyes. And although he was a good man - loyal and kind - she began to resent him.

“To add insult to injury, I suggested that we start a family. I figured that maybe if she had a wee baby to watch over, she wouldn’t be so worried about other things. I really fucked up then,” he said, eyes wide. “I was sexist. A selfish misogynist asshole, and I wanted her barefoot and bloated in the kitchen. That was a laugh. She didn’t cook.”

“Then how did you eat?” she said.

“I did the cooking. And most of the cleaning. She preferred to have a lie in and then go out for late lunches with friends.”

It wasn’t an odd confession. Her own mother never lifted a finger - they had a cleaning service come in every day to keep things tidy. Because her mother was so contrary, she was never able to form any connection to the staff, since they never lasted long.

“Why didn’t you get someone to come in to do the cleaning?”

His brow wrinkled with indignation. “I come from honest Scottish stock. It’s a shame not to be able to clean up your own muck. It was just us two, hardly an excuse to have some poor woman scrubbing and dusting after us.”

“They get paid to do it,” she said. She played with the buckle on her boot.

“You have a cleaner?” he said, giving her a disapproving look.

“No. My apartment’s small, and dust never really bothered me,” she winked at him. “It add character.”

“It gives me asthma,” he said.

“Then I guess you can’t come over,” she said.

“Am I invited? I could use a cheeky NYC holiday,” he said. “I’m curious about seeing American women in their natural habitat.”

“All animals, are we?”

He shook his head briskly. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I get it. I was joking,” she said. “It’s a pity she didn’t want children.”

He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Last I heard, she’s a new mum to a healthy baby girl,” he said morosely. “She didn’t want to have my children.” He kicked at the firepit.

“Did she actually say that, though?” she said.

“Not quite. For the first half of the marriage, she insisted she couldn’t have children because it would ruin her figure. That made some sense to me, so I waited. We were young. But as things began to fall apart and it was obvious that there would be no modeling career, the truth finally came to light.”

“And what truth was that?”

He couldn’t look at her. No one knew the truth. Not Alex and Olivia. Not even his own mother. And he didn’t know why he was going to tell her. She noticed his hesitation, and squeezed his hand. Old pain began to rise from where he had subsumed it under a mountain of self-loathing and anger. He was suddenly dizzy with it.

“She didn’t want to procreate with me. She would be horrified if she had a ‘gimp kid.’” His voice was hoarse with pain. He put his head in his hands, and his body trembled as he tried to fight the urge to sob. Hearing it out loud, it took him back to the moment his life fell apart. Mara’s face had been so lax, so cold. She didn’t understand why he crumpled in his chair, and went pale as a sheet - to her, it made perfect sense.

“And when we lost Josie, I started to wonder…” he said, his face twisted with horror, “I started to wonder whether…” he took a whooping breath, “ whether it was my fault.” He finally broke down.

She wrapped her arms around him and let his choked sobs shake her. His pain humbled her - there was no anger whatsoever left in her. He tried to wave her away, but she insisted on holding him.  She shushed into his neck and held him tight, taking in the scent of leather and salt. His body curled into her, and he finally hugged her back so hard it made her ribs ache.

He disentangled himself and started to yank at the jewelry on his wrist. “Look-” He lost patience and bit off the fashionable thin leather thong bracelet. He held his right wrist up for her to see.

She rubbed her thumb along the cursive letters.

“Josie,” she read out loud. Without another thought, she kissed his wrist. A tear dripped on his palm. They sat there, just breathing. She pulled up the hem of her shorts. He squinted, then dared to brush the skin of her hip.

“It’s a poppy,” he said, mystified. “Quite nice.” Although tears still dried in his beard, he wasn’t just talking about the tattoo. She linked her fingers through his long ones. He warmed at her easy, mindless gesture. It felt so very nice. Almost better than sex.

“That was her name. Poppy,” she said, smiling at him. “She wasn’t mine through blood or marriage, but I love her with all my heart.”

Was it another girlfriend? His heart dropped. “Wait - who are you talking about?” he said softly. He didn’t remember Olivia mentioning a Poppy.

“She was Ella’s little girl,” she said.

He couldn’t hide his relief. “Her daughter. I see. What happened with Ella?”

She squeezed his hand. “The most common but painful of conjugal sins - infidelity. Our relationship no longer held any adventure or excitement for her. This is a quote.”

“How many years were you together?” he said, rubbing her back.

“Four years, 7 months, and 20 days,” she said. “Nothing like you and Mara.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“At least Mara married you. Ella didn’t believe in the institute of matrimony. She said it was heteronormative garbage and she refused to tow the line for the sake of a false sense of propriety.”

He sucked his teeth. “She sounds a delight,” he said. “So you wanted to do the whole white frock and flowers thing, eh?”

“I love weddings, straight and gay. I’m an unapologetic weeper,” she said. “I guess I wanted that for me. To share our love with people - make a public and binding commitment in front of God and man.”

“Ooh,” he said. “Binding. That just gave me chills.”

“You were married,” she said.

“If it isn’t already apparent, it was harrowing.”

“You loved her, though,” she said. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “At best, she loved the idea of me. The stability and ease of a life with me. But she never loved me. And it happens far too often.”

“You know, not all women see their partners as walking ATM machines,” she said petulantly. She was the main breadwinner as well. But up until the end, she chose to believe it was love, and not being a stable dupe to raise her kid, that kept Ella around.

“I could tell you some stories,” he said, his eyebrows high. “Sad, sad stories.”

“Like what?”

“The divorce process isn’t kind to many men - even those who did things very right. It’s the woman’s word above all, even when there is proof of infidelity.” He cleared his throat.

“Imagine how awkward it is when it’s two women,” she said. He looked confused. “I’ll give you a clue: complete and utter shitstorm.”

“Did Ella take you for all you had, then?” he said, too jovially.

“Thing is, she didn’t have to. Even after the breakup,  I wanted to help her find a proper place for Poppy to grow up, and give her money for her schooling. But she didn’t care. She never really worried about … prosaic things like that, and that’s what worries me. She was the stereotypical  hipster artist, and because I loved her, for four years, I paid for the lifestyle. It didn’t bother me, John. It made me happy to see them thrive, to do and give beautiful things. I never kept a running tally, to my lawyer’s chagrin,” she said, giving him a half smile. “I understand how women can be. We’re not perfect. But as a bi woman, I’m a bit closer.” She winked.

“How so?” he said. She still held his hand loosely on her lap. Her thighs were like velvet.

“I was just joking. What I mean is, I’m straddling a fence and able to look at both sides, both physically and emotionally. Men complain that women are too emotional. Women complain that men don’t listen. And both are right, to a degree. But even if the complaints from both sides are similar, it’s still an individual problem.”

“Life with Mara was constantly walking on eggshells,” he said. “Anything I said, no matter how well-meaning, could end up upsetting her in some way. Still happens, honestly,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She chose to ignore it. “I acknowledge what you said, but what if I told you that it was Mara’s insecurity, and not you, that caused all that misery? It wasn’t your fault.”

“How could such a beautiful woman be insecure? Either way, I tried to make it better the best way I could. With compliments, and kindness, and attention, and trips - I took her to bloody Bali. Paradise. And all she did was sulk in bikini for a week. She looked fucking beautiful, though.” He shook his head.

Connie smiled and bit her lip. She knew the feeling. Her and Ella’s last trip to Thailand had been much of the same - her trying to stay positive and pretend things weren’t falling apart, and Ella finding any excuse to go off by herself.

“Hey …” he squeezed her hand. “You’re gonna chew your lip off,” he said, and pressed his finger on her chin, dislodging it from her teeth. It was bruised and red.

“Did I say something stupid?” he said.

“No. Of course not,” she said. She sucked on her lip pensively. “Sometimes, that kindness and attention is what makes it worse.”

It was getting colder, and the fire was getting lower. He leaned into her and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Wait-” she said, stiffening.

“I’m sorry- it’s just, you’re shivering,” he said, but let her go. He took off his jacket and held it up. “Here. Put it on. Still warm.”

She opened her mouth to protest - something about preferring to freeze than wear his obnoxiously hip leather jacket - but instead, she accepted his gesture gracefully. She slid into it and sat down with a sigh. His scent surrounded her and made her smile. He smelled of … herbaceous green and the ghost of fresh cut wood. Despite the warmth, she got goosebumps.

“Thanks,” she said. His nipples poked through his thin cotton henley shirt. “Now you’re cold, though.”

He smiled and rubbed his chest. Pink rose to his cheeks above the beard. “It’s the price I pay for being a gentleman.”

“You did it on purpose,” she said, nudging him. “You wanted to show the world your goods.”

“The world’s not here,” he said. “Just you.”

His intense gaze made her heart race, but she laughed it off. Oh no. He’s not gonna do some MRA mind tricks on her.

“Okay, what is this? A three-step system to get any woman to bed?” she said. “Because it’s not gonna work on me, slick.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you going on about?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“You know - number one: engage her, and make her feel in control. Number 2: be vulnerable, and allow her to be vulnerable. Number three …” she stood up and started to walk around the patio, searching for the words,”...give her your jacket and make her feel safe. Yeah. Safe. I see you,” she said, nodding and smirking. “You’re not clever, hipster boy.”

He looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I’m very clever, but this is no ruse. I’m genuinely freezing my lads off right now.”

She took off the jacket. “Then here.” She held it up impatiently.

“I clearly said I would buy you a drink and leave you alone. You are the one who asked me to stay.”

“No I didn’t,” she said. Her arm was starting to burn. The jacket was heavy, but he didn’t take it back. She threw it on the bench and crossed her arms.

“Yes, you did. You asked me what I did for a living. I replied that to answer your question, I would have to remain. You said that this was a public space, and that you couldn’t put me out, implying consent to continuing the conversation.”

She sat down, still pouting. He resisted the urge to smile.

“You think I would say those private things just to get a woman into bed?” he said. “It’s not much of a show of strength, is it?”

She shivered. “Whatever. It’s just not gonna work on me.”

“I wasn’t trying to work you,” he said, and stood up. It stung that she thought the things he told her were just a means to an end. “You women are impossible. If we talk a big game, then we’re egotistical jerks. If we dare to be vulnerable, then we’re weak and revolting. This is why I gave up trying to please you lot. It’s so much easier to please myself - at least I know what I’m about.”

“Shocking revelation,” she said under her breath.

He groaned with frustration. “And things were going so well.”

“See! You were working me!” she said, pointing at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I was trying to get to know you - see what Liv sees. There is a massive fucking difference,” he said.

She faltered, but she refused to give up.  “Why do you care what Liv sees, or feels anyway? You were an utter twat to her. She told me what you did at the park. You … barked a fake orgasm in public to humiliate her even more about what happened between you and Alex.”

“I didn’t really know her then, and I thought the whole thing was a weird lesbian sham. Sandwiches at the park? How civil,” he said. “Bollocks!”

“That’s how she is, though. Civil and kind and lovely,” she said. She didn’t know why her voice was up an octave.

“Well, I didn’t know that then,” he said, matching her volume. “I just thought she was the evil gatekeeper keeping me from who could be the actual love of my life.”

Her jaw dropped. “You loved Alex?” Livvie didn’t tell her that.

He rubbed his face. “I thought I did. I mean, I do, but then, I wanted her as well, for myself. Our drunk thing and what happened afterward felt like it was destined. And that little stunt at the park? I was jealous. Seething.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. “I am so confused.”

“So was I,” he said. “Trust me. Alex and I were drunk that night, but we weren’t …” he tried to find the right words, “... she wasn’t so gone that she didn’t know …” he sighed. She waited for him to finish.

“She was the one who pulled me up the stairs to bed,” he said. “She ripped my clothes-”

She held up her hand. “I don’t need to hear more. Suffice it to say, there was consent.”

“Because I knew that, I thought it meant that maybe there was a chance. That she might choose me. Especially after the baby.”

She sat down hard. Olivia had not told her that, and she knew why. It was weird. And painful. And awkward.

“But you had to know that Alex is a lesbian,” she said finally.

“Should I know? Because she sure didn’t fu-”

She held up her hand for silence again. 

“I’m sorry. It felt weird sometimes, like she wanted me but was too afraid to say so for fear of being judged or something.”

“She did care for you, but more importantly, she needed you. She was pregnant, and frightened, and on the horns of a fearful dilemma - literally.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“No, you think I’m saying she wanted you … sexually. But she didn’t.”

“But she did.”

“She was drunk, and furious, and scared.”

“And really horny,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but friction is friction if you’re drunk enough,” she said. “You were there, and willing. She made do.”

He sat down beside her again. “And it hurt.”

“Slamming your dick up against a brick wall will do that,” she said.

“It made me feel used.”

“Welcome to the fucking club, kid,” she said. “She told you she’s gay. She introduces you to her girlfriend. You never see male overnight guests. Again … Wall. Cock.” She wished she had another drink to warm her. “You still have those feelings for her?”

“No,” he said. “I was so ecstatic about Josie that what was a just a pash blew up to something more. I wanted to love her. I absolutely did. She checked all the boxes - creative, beautiful, passionate - but I realized after losing the baby that we were more meant to be friends.”

“How convenient,” she said.

“Really. We’re very alike, in a lot of ways. Too much, honestly,” he said, chuckling. “That ever happen to you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “With Olivia,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said. “Although the circumstances were weird, I feel so lucky that Olivia, Alex, and I found each other. They changed my life,” he said.

“In myriad ways,” she said, smiling. She couldn’t imagine a life without Olivia.

He laughed softly beside her.

“What?” she said.

“Just thinking. Slamming my cock up against a brick wall. That’s choice.”

“It’s what you did, though. Al’s gay as fuck. Her words, not mine.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“I’m bi, remember?”

“But … you wanted to marry Ella.”

“And?”

“That’s pretty lesbian of you.”

“I loved her,” she said. “Ella could’ve easily been … Elton.”

“Fair warning though - he’s gay as fuck,” he said.

She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

“Men and women are so different. I don’t understand how you could want both equally.”

“That’s what’s most amazing. The differences. It keeps things interesting.”

“But what if you’re with a woman, and you want to be with a man? What do you do?”

“Is it a committed monogamous relationship?”

"Let’s say yeah.”

“What any good person in a committed relationship does. Practice self-control. Bisexuality is not carte blanche to be a callous, greedy bastard.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “You ever cheated?”

“This conversation is getting deeply personal again,” she said.

“Afraid to answer the question?” he said, raising his eyebrow.

“No! And no.”

“Never?” he said. “Not even a little kiss?”

“No,” she said, irritated. “I think it’s cowardly.”

“How?”

“You ever done it?” she asked, eyeing him.

“I asked the question first. Answer it, then I’ll answer you.”

“It’s cowardly because it’s the easy way out for a person who can’t muster up the bravery to tell their partner the difficult truth that they’re not happy. If they cheat, then it circumvents it completely. It’s like ‘Oops! I went outside the relationship. That’s gross, right? You hate me now, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll let myself out…’”

Her voice trembled.

“Spot on,” he said. “Mara didn’t even give me a chance to get angry, though. She didn’t care enough. It was like ‘I’ve been fucking someone else for a year, he makes me feel like a woman, I’ll send someone for my shit, goodbye’.”

The noise from the pub was quieting down. The fire was down to embers.

“I got the line ‘she makes me feel like my most authentic self’. What does that even mean?”

“It’s hipster speak for ‘makes me feel like a woman’,” he said, then let out a snort. She looked at him, thinking he might start crying again. But his face glowed with a smile.

“We’re quite a pair, you and I,” he said. “What a fucking pity party.”

“And worst of all, my glass is empty,” she said. “What time is it?”

He looked at his cell and laughed. “Fuck, it’s after 1 AM!”

“Really?” she said. “You’re telling me we’ve been here for nearly five hours? Impossible.”

He showed her the phone.

“Damn,” she said. “No wonder it’s so quiet in the pub.” She rubbed her nose pensively, something he noticed she did a lot.

“Has anyone told you how utterly charming you are when you’re angry?” he said. He tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear, brushing his knuckle gently along her cheek bone.

“No one who doesn’t want a bruise,” she said, but she smiled. She liked his touch. It was gentle and unassuming.

“Then I will say that you are very intimidating. You made me quake in my boots a couple times.”

She lifted her chin high and raised an eyebrow. “Good.”

“You’re so fucking adorable,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.

“Puppies are adorable,” she said. She meant to nudge him, but ended up leaning against him. He felt good.

“You’re right, I suppose,” he said, daring to wrap his arm around her waist. His touch was feather-light, but warm.”You are beautiful.” The way he said it made her look up at him and search his eyes. The swagger she saw earlier was gone. His gaze questioned, and she responded, tilting her head and giving him the slightest smile. He put his hand on her face. Her nipples hardened, although his touch was warm.

He kissed the side of her mouth first. The prickle of his beard made her giggle, but she put her hand on the back of his neck to guide him.

“I didn’t want to offend with the porn beard,�� he whispered into her mouth. His lips were so maddeningly soft. The cold flew from her limbs, and it was replaced with desire.

“A little hair doesn’t bother me,” she said, and just as he pressed his lips to hers, someone came out and threw a bucket of dirty dish water on the embers of the fire.

The woman gave them a cursory glance. “We’re closing in 20 minutes,” she said, and left.

He stood up and held out his hand. “I guess that means it’s time to bugger off,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Didn't you drive here, though?” she said. She licked her bruised lip for a hint of a taste of him. Sadly, there was none.

“Yeah. But I’m just in the mood for a moonlit stroll,” he said. When she stood, he put his jacket over her shoulders again. “I can pick up my car tomorrow.”

He held his arm out gallantly, and she linked hers through it. It was a small town, so just beyond the high street, there was only silence and the yellow glow of the street lamps. When was the last time she had ever done this, with anyone?

Too long. And she forgot how good it was.

He bounced beside her, slowing his long-gaited walk to accommodate her.

“What are you so excited about?” she asked.

“I can’t wait for the party tomorrow! I hope Olivia likes her gift. It’s a trifle late, but then again, it took a while longer than I imagined to make.”

“Ooh, sounds interesting. Is it in your magic shop?” she said. They turned the corner, and his house was visible not too far off.

He walked in front of her and took her hands. “Would you like to see?” he said. His boyish energy was infectious. Although at first she thought it irritating, it was growing on her. It was nice being around someone like that, after years of Ella’s borderline soporific coolness.

“Sure,” she said. They were nearly running now. Just as soon as they turned into his front yard, a car engine roared to a stop nearby. In the street, a taxi unloaded two very familiar, very drunk women.

“Oh shit-” he ran toward the taxi, but he drove off, glad to be rid of them.

“Heya there, playboy,” the red head slurred, tripping over her feet and falling to the grass. As he tried to help her up, the blonde came up behind him and grabbed his crotch, hard. He dropped the redhead and held the blonde’s wrists firmly.

“Careful with the jewels, darling,” he said. He was pale with pain.

The redhead managed to get on her knees. She touched him too, but with gentler hands.

“Whoa!” he said, and pulled the woman to standing. She leered up at him, licking her lips.

“You gonna make good on your promise?” she said. “We’re here and ready to go-” she tried to hump his leg, but he held her at arm’s length. The lights from the neighbors across the street came on. He cursed underneath his breath.

He ran up to his door and opened it. “Just … get inside and keep quiet.”

“Don’t wanna give your fancy detached neighbors a show, eh?” the blonde said as she climbed the steps, lifting her skirt high. Her hot pink thong had little rhinestones on it. Just as soon as they went inside, he went to her. She stood in Olivia’s garden, arms crossed. She didn’t look mad, which made him even more nervous.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

“What are you doing here? It seems they’re primed and ready to have some fun,” she said. His kitchen window opened and the redhead stuck her head out.

“Oi! Get your ass over here, playboy,” she said. “And you can join us too, if you’re not shy,” she said, giving her a lascivious look.

“You got anything to drink in this place?” the blonde yelled from inside the kitchen.

“It really looks like you have your hands full. I’m gonna turn in,” Connie said, walking to the back door.

“Please, don’t leave me alone. I don’t want them in-” something crashed in the kitchen, “-I don’t want them in my house.”

“Then why did you invite them?” she said.

“I didn’t. Not really. We were flirting a bit, then you came into the bar … shit!” he slapped his forehead. “The business cards. They had my address.”

“Why?” she said.

“I work from home, remember?” he said. “I’m such an idiot.” An ominous thud came from the open window. When she looked, the two women were drunkenly making out. It was not a pretty sight. He gave them a despairing look and turned back to her.

“Help me get them out of my house,” he said, his face twisted in embarrassment.

“But it looks like they’ve already started without you,” she said. The redhead had pulled the blonde’s dress down and was licking her breasts. He groaned. “Please. I don’t want to … touch them.”

“You did earlier,” she said. She couldn’t believe she was going to make out with him just 20 minutes before.

“A lot has happened since then,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I swear this has never happened before.” The blond sat on the counter, and the redhead disappeared below the sill. “It’s just my luck it would happen tonight, of all the nights in my bloody life.”

“You should post the experience on your little site. The mouthbreathers will be really impressed.”

“I deserved that. You know what? I’ll take that, and more, if you help me this once. Please.” He looked miserable. “Use your angry powers for good.”

She rolled her eyes. He fell to his knees and grabbed her legs.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, and stalked across his yard. The ladies jumped when she yanked the kitchen door open.

She clapped her hands. “Alright, ladies. As they say in America, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

The redhead came up from between the blonde’s legs and wiped her chin. “What are you like, his mum?” she said. “Where’s playboy?”

“Off somewhere calling you another taxi,” she said, loudly enough for him to hear from the garden. “Playboy. Do you even know his name?”

“Names don’t matter, do they?” the redhead said, but she pulled his business card from between her breasts. She squinted at it. “Fuck. Don’t have my contacts in-”

Connie took the card from her and crumpled it. “It doesn’t matter, right?” She pointed at the blonde. “Get yourself together and fuck off to the living room. You can wait for the taxi there, where I can’t see you,” she said, and walked back outside.

“Someone should be by in less than five minutes,” he said.

She made a face. “A taxi in less than five minutes?” That was a statistical impossibility where she came from.

“I know. But I promised to pay whoever got here first three times the going rate, plus tip,” he said.

That made a lot more sense.

“They’re not destroying things, are they?” he said.

“Oh my-” She ran back into his house. They were stuffing anything small they could get their hands on in their cheap purses - curios, CDs, and a little comic book figurine that looked expensive.

She darted into his foyer, where he had a proper English willow cricket bat and walked into the living room, bat held high.

“Empty your bags right now or I swear I will call the police and report a home invasion,” she said, her voice low with anger. “But that’s after I call an ambulance.” The women sized her up, and decided she wasn’t worth the risk - the crazy bitch might not be bluffing.

The redhead dropped the George Harrison CD in her hand. “Sure. Whatever. This stuff’s shit anyway,” she said, and started taking stuff out of her purse.

“No, boo. Empty your fucking purse on the carpet,” she said, pointing at her with the bat. “Both of you.”

They rolled their eyes and obeyed. The women had even stolen a wooden pepper grinder from the kitchen. Connie rolled her eyes as they put their meager belongings back into their bags and clutched them to their chests.

They looked at her with open resentment. “You ‘is bird er summat? The blonde said, going full Northern.

“I’m none of your goddamned business,” she said. The bat was still gripped tight in her hand. The taxi honked outside.”Alright, time to go,” she said, herding them through his front door. They stumbled to the vehicle, where John spoke with the driver.

He handed the man a couple of large notes. “Take them wherever they want to go,” he said. “There’s a bit extra there for clean up, just in case.” The man nodded.

“This wasn’t the ride you promised,” the redhead said petulantly.

“Sorry, love,” he said and walked to the sidewalk. The blonde opened the window and stuck two fingers out at Connie. The rude sound she made faded as the taxi drove away.

“Wow. It’s been quite an evening,” she said. “A rollercoaster of emotions.”

He kicked at the curb sheepishly. “Thanks for your help. I just didn’t want them to say that I’d touched them funny or yelled at them or something.” He looked at her and chuckled. “The bat looks good on you.”

“Oh,” she said. It was still slung over her shoulder. She handed it back to him. “I should get to sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She rooted for the house keys in her pocket. Her heart was heavy. She wanted to be furious at him, but she wasn’t. She was just sad. He ran to the stoop.

“This was not how imagined tonight ending,” he said, hand over his heart. “I apologize if that upset you.”

“Is that what you want? To be a sex object to horny, faceless women? Is that the definition of being an alpha male?”

His genuine panic when the blonde grabbed at him made her curious.

“After years and years of being insulted and rejected, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Granted, that was a bit scary. Sometimes I don’t know my own magnetic charm,” he said, trying to get a laugh out of her. But she just patted his shoulder wearily.

“I need sleep,” she said.

His smile faltered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, er, later today.”

“Uhuh,” she said. He took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, and closed the door.

Next Chapter

[msmarshmallowmadness]

Miraculous Mariposa & Fenrir Frost

Chapter 1.1 Sculpt man Paris the Capital of France, people had said its fashion capital of the world with fascinated history, beauty, and art. And of course it’s the city of love, but if you look closely you will find out that there is more to Paris that meets the eye. It was a lovely afternoon; the sky was painted into a beautiful shade of orange and pink as the sun began to set and the people who reside in this city did their usual routine like they do every day. On this afternoon on a small building a young girl was in her room checking something on her computer, she had short brunette hair, spring green eyes, a heart shape face and light freckles around her nose. She was wearing a black shirt with short sleeves that had pink flowers on it, a brown belt around her waist and a skirt mixed with pink & purple that reach 3 inch above her knees, and a jean purple vest. She was wearing black flats and she also wore black circle earrings. Her name was Rapunzel Sonne, only child to Frederick Sonne and Arianna Sonne. They are a family of three living a simple life in Paris, and they own a Jewelry shop name Corona that’s right below their home. “That one looks lovely” said Rapunzel as she was looking at different websites of designer clothes, shoes, hat, etc. She saved some picture in her computer and drew a few sketches for her ideas in her sketchbook “This will definitely be a great color for a dress. But will it look good with or without a belt?” Rapunzel then felt something on her left shoulder; she looked and saw that it was a small fuchsia pink creature with a large head, a tiny body, and green eyes. She resembles a butterfly, with two antennae, and a pair of wings. She also had a flower mark on her forehead and a mark below her right eye. “Any design that you can come up with Rapunzel will definitely look beautiful, even with a belt” spoke the creature with a female voice that sounded small and cute. Rapunzel smiled at the cute creature “Thanks Jia” she then sees an add video that starts playing automatically. The video was showing an Art Competition in a museum that was being held in the city “Oh I forgot that the Art competition was today” Rapunzel watched the video as it showed different pieces of art from the many contestants who entered “Wow their really good” she praised. “Why didn’t you enter Rapunzel?” Jia asked as she flies towards the screen of the computer getting a better look “I’m sure you would have won first place” “I was too late to register” answered Rapunzel then made playful smile “Besides I got too many things in my life to juggle and you know it” “If you can handle fighting evil villains during the day and at night, an art competition will only be a walk in the park” giggled Jia. Suddenly the two girls heard a knock and they both look with wide eyes at the door that was on the floor that leads to downstairs where the living room is. “Jia! Hide!” whispered Rapunzel in a panic tone. Jia nodded and hid herself in Rapunzel’s light blue purse. Rapunzel got up and opened the door, and was surprise to see who it was “Merida?” Merida Dunbroch was Rapunzel’s best friend she had wild curly red hair that looks like it hasn’t been brush, sky blue eyes and a dust of freckles across her face. She was wearing a dark teal short sleeve shirt, pale blue jeans, a checkered jacket around her waist and brown combat boots. Merida climbs up into Rapunzel’s room and grabs her cellphone from her pocket “Before ye ask why A’m here at this hour. Ah got some exciting news for ye” she says in a thick Scottish accent. “What is it?” Rapunzel asked. “Guess who’s gonnae watch the premiaur movie of ‘Captain America: Civil War’ tonight?” Announce Merida as she shows on her cell a picture of her best friend’s crush sitting on a bench at the park. Rapunzel grabs the phone from Merida’s hand and looks at the picture as if it was a rare treasure “Jack? He’s going? Really?!” “Yep” said Merida crossing her arms. “But how do you know?” wondered Rapunzel. “While Ah was daein’ some food shopping for my mum. Ah happened to overhear a certain auburn freckled wee laddie talkin’ on the phone with Jack about going the movies tonight” answered Merida with a cocky smile “And Ah took that picture right at the park whaur they will meet up” “Really?” asked Rapunzel. “Yep an’ we are gonnae with them” replied Merida. “What?!” yelps Rapunzel “N-No way! What would I say to him?!” “Oh yoo’ll be fine. Just say what ye always say” said Merida then began to imitated her “A-Ah uh! Blah, eh? Eek!” Rapunzel gave a small laughed and shoved Merida playfully “Haha very funny” but her best friend wasn’t wrong. Every time Rapunzel sees her crush or she’s near him she always acts like a nervous wreck around him, she could barely talk in a perfect sentence without her mouth getting tongued tied. “Now come on, if we dornt go we might miss them” urged Merida. “What?! Right now! But umm do I look okay?” asked Rapunzel as she look at herself then checked herself in her mirror “Should I change clothes? Or should I wear a something on my hair?” “Ye look fine” told Merida but then she sees her best friend going over to her closet. “Maybe a sweater would look nice? Or how about a headband or a pin?” spoke Rapunzel as she tossed out everything she had in her closet. Merida rolled her eyes and walked towards her “Come on” she grabbed Rapunzel by her arm and dragged her to the door. “Okay! Okay just let me grab my purse!” said Rapunzel freeing herself from Merida’s grip and grabbed her purse and place it on her shoulder. “Ready?” “Ready” “Then off we go!” exclaimed Merida “Let’s go!” smiled Rapunzel. ~0~ The Art competition has begun and a lot of people came to watch the different kinds of Art that was being display. There were Canvases, Sculpture of clay and objects, all you can think of were all over the place. As it progress the Judges were seeing the many art pieces that the constantans had made. As they got to the Sculptures section the three Judges were intrigue by two clay sculptures, the first was a sculpture of a Lion and the second was a sculpture of an Angel woman. The two contestants who created the pieces of art were Darryl Lottsman and John Henderson. Darryl Lottsman made the Lion sculpture; he had browned hair and eyes, he was wearing a red shirt with a jean jacket over it and black pants. His sculpture showed that he did his best to almost make it look like a real lion, with the amazing detail he did of the lion’s mane that was big and had every strand of hair. The paws were great and the claws too. He made his lion to pose like it was roaring with its mouth wide opened showing off its fierce teeth and well detail inside of the mouth. John Henderson made the Angel woman sculpture; he had short blonde curly hair and hazel eyes, he was wearing a light green shirt with long sleeves, and blue pants. The angel he made looked beautiful; she had long hair and had a flower crown on her head. She was naked but didn’t expose any privet parts, and you could also tell that he worked very hard on her wings to look like real feathers. He made her pose to look like she was praying; her hands were claps together and were close to her chest to cover her breast. She was kneeling so they wouldn’t see her lower part and look up at the sky to the one she is praying to. The Judges observed both sculptures and were impressed that both of the artist did a great job with the detail that they presented. As the judges walked away and discussed with each other about the many art pieces they witness, both boys had the same hopeful look on their faces, that one of them will win the sculptor trophy. ~0~ In a secret location that no one knows about, a tall man walks in a dark room and then with his fingers he made a snap sound and it cause a window to open. The glass window had a design of a dragonfly and it brought the only light to fill the whole room, and in this room were a swarm of white Dragonflies flying all over the place. The man reaches his hand out and a dragonfly landed in his palm, with his other hand he places it on top trapping the dragonfly in his hands. Then a dark energy forms in his hands and when he removed his hand the dragonfly that was once pure white was now black with purple highlights. “Go out and find me another victim, my little akuma” whispered the man with a dark voice. Then the Akuma flied out of the room through the glass window and it began flying around the City of Paris to look for its next target. ~0~ Merida and Rapunzel were at the park and they were hiding behind a tree while looking at the boy that Rapunzel has a huge crush on sitting by the fountain. He had brown hair, light skin tone, and beautiful deep blue eyes. He was wearing a white shirt with a black snowflake design in the middle, he wore a blue hoodie over his shirt but had no sleeves. His pants were brown and skinny and he had blue sneakers. He also had an eye brow piercing on his right side that made him look cool and a black ring on his left hand. His name is Jackson Overland Black but his friends and classmates call him Jack. He is a model and the son of the famous fashion designer Pitch Black who is well known through all of France. Rapunzel couldn’t help but make a dreamy sigh as she looked at him. Jack was looking at his cellphone to check the time as he was patiently waiting for his friend to show up. “Okay we are going to just pass by and pretend to bump into them” spoke Rapunzel instructing their plan to greet the boys. “Then what?” asked Merida. “Then we'll go to the movies together! I’ll sit next to him and we’ll accidently touch each other’s hands as we reach for the popcorn. Then we’ll look deep into each other eyes and we’ll share our kiss under the darkness of the theater and then be boyfriend and girlfriend and in the future we’ll get married and live happily ever after!” express Rapunzel enthusiastically as she made a far off look on imagining the whole thing. Merida made a sigh at her best friend’s imagination “Let’s go and pass by and then we’ll see if we can make it to the sittin’ next to each other” Rapunzel snapped out of her day dream and gave a small laugh “Sorry” Both girls’ notice a boy approach Jack and it was none other than his best friend Hiccup Haddock. He had auburn hair, forest green eyes, and freckles on his face. He was wearing a shirt that was black at the top and red at the bottom with a white skull with horns as a logo. He also wore a long sleeve green shirt under his t-shirt, black pants and convers. Both girl’s see the two boys talking and began to take action by walking pass them. Merida was acting normal but Rapunzel not so much. “Act normal, act normal, act normal” repeated Rapunzel over and over again while walking like a robot. Merida rolled her eyes and notices that neither Jack nor Hiccup realize they were walking by them “We might as well be ghost” Rapunzel notice what her best friend meant, seeing that the boys haven’t even seen them “Uh then let’s try again” suggested Rapunzel but when she turned around she faced the wrong way and got herself hit by a tree “Oww” Before she could fall Merida quickly catches her and got Rapunzel on her feet “T-Thanks Merida” she said while rubbing her forehead to sued the pain. “Don’t thank me just yet” told Merida as she looked to her left. Rapunzel looked to where Merida was looking and saw that Jack and Hiccup had notice them. Rapunzel’s eyes went wide and her face began to blush, part of her really hope that Jack didn’t see her walk into the tree. She gave a nervous smile and waved at him and to her surprise Jack smiled and waved back. “Merida! Merida! He’s waving at me!” squealed Rapunzel. “Duh! Who wooldn’t wave at someone who’s in the same class?” asked Merida sarcastically, she saw that Rapunzel was still smiling and waving. Merida rolled her eyes and grabbed Rapunzel by the wrist and started walking towards the boys. Rapunzel tried to pull away not feeling brave enough to talk to Jack but Merida kept a firm grip on her so she wouldn’t escape. “Hey guys!” greeted Merida as she let go of Rapunzel wrist. “Hi” said Hiccup. “Hey” said Jack. Rapunzel was too nervous to say anything that she merely smile and waved. Merida made a sigh and slap her hand down and decided to do all the talking. "So what are you girls doing?" Jack asked with a smile. "Nothin’ much, just decided to take a walk aroond the park an’ then going to the movies afterwards" Merida said casually. Rapunzel merely nodded in response finding it difficult to even speak. "Really? Me and Jack were actually planning on going to the movies later as well" Hiccup said enthusiastically. "Really now? Weel dae ye guys mind if we tag alang? Ye know since we’re all going to the movies anyway" Merida asked looking at Rapunzel from the corner of her eyes with mischief. Rapunzel made a silent gulp then looked at Jack as he looked at Hiccup as if asking if it was alright for them to tag along. Rapunzel began to worry and use her index finger to twirl her short hair a habit that she does whenever she’s nervous ‘Oh no I knew this would be a dumb idea. He's so going to say no, and wonder why we would even ask him and his friend to hang out with them. He probably already had plans to hang out with some other prettier girls. Gosh I hate that I thought this would work’ "Rapunzel?" Rapunzel was snap out of her thoughts when she heard Merida calling her "Ahh! Uh err yes?!" she responded in shock. That's when she saw Jack and Hiccup looking at her with a surprise look and then start laughing which made her more confused than ever. "Uh what?" Rapunzel asked a bit shyly looking at Merida for help in which she got a sigh from her friend. "We were wondering if you were okay with hanging out with us. Since we don’t mind you girls tagging along" Jack said trying to stop himself from chuckling. "U-Us? Wait you? I mean you want us to hang out with you guys?!" Rapunzel couldn’t help herself from blurting out the question. "Ha ha of course, were all classmates here aren't we?" Jack chuckled. As soon as she heard it right Rapunzel couldn't help herself from blushing, she used her hands to hide her extremely red face from being seen. She then notices Merida trying to suppress a smirk from forming on her face. Rapunzel pouted before sticking her tongue out at Merida. "Uh Rapunzel?" Jack asked. Rapunzel froze in place still having her tongue out; she quickly closed her mouth in embarrassment "Um! That was just- I was err trying to get this hair off my tongue? Uh yeah! There was hair on my tongue, and it was really annoying!” She lied while stuttering. Merida just shook her head at Rapunzel, trying so hard not to laugh at her. Rapunzel made a mental note to get her back later. "Ah okay whatever you say" Jack said. ‘Oh my gosh! That was so embarrassing’ thought Rapunzel as she fiddle with her fingers. "So did you guys want to head out to the movies now?" Hiccup asked us. "Yeah, since A’m startin’ to get hungry for popcorn" Merida said. The four teens began to make their way to the movie theater. If you couldn’t tell by her face Rapunzel was really happy that she was hanging out with Jack and walking right next to him. If she could she would have scream for joy but that would make him think she’s weird. She then looked back at Jack while they walk; she took in all his features once again and made a big dreamy smile ‘His eyes are like the ocean’ She then noticed Jack turn to look at her, which made her flinched in shock and quickly looked away from him. "Are you okay Rapunzel?” asked Jack. "Huh? Uh w-what do you m-mean?" She asked him nervously. “Didn’t it hurt when you bumped into the tree earlier?” Jack wondered. “Aaah!” said Rapunzel and quickly turned her head away ‘Oh my goodness! I can’t believe he really saw that!’ she thought hiding her red face with her hands from embarrassment ‘He must think I’m clumsy for running into a tree!’ “Rapunzel?” Rapunzel snap out of her thought and looked at Jack “Huh? What?” “I said if you were okay?” He asked again. “M-Me? No! I-I mean yes!” replied Rapunzel as she laughed nervously “My h-head is fine! It’s made of rock! I-I-I mean it’s like a rock! No it’s hard as a rock! Hehe” Jack gave a confuse look “Okay? If you say so” he then turned his attention back to Hiccup and continued talking. Rapunzel couldn’t believe what she just said ‘Me and my big mouth’ she thought. “Hang in thaur lassie” said Merida as she patted her head with sympathy. Meanwhile… At the Art Competition, it was now finally coming to an end, with the judges now tallying up the scores of all the contestants’ work. They finish giving the 1st place trophy to the best Canvas paint now it was time for the best Sculpture, after taking 20 minutes to debate on which sculpture piece pleased them the most, they had finally came to a final decision. "Alright everyone will you all gather around to hear the final results on whose Sculpture art piece had the most creative and outstanding work." The host of the competition said. Everyone began to gather around the stage, looking up at the many contestants who had participated. "We are all happy to have seen such wonderful pieces. We can all tell that you all put a lot of work and heart into it. But as you all know, not everyone can win. But that doesn’t make every one of you less talented" One of the judges said. Everyone began clapping after hearing the nice speech. Making some of the contestants smile and feel a little less nervous. "Now to make things more interesting we wanted to narrow it down to two contestants who had really outstanding pieces of work. So without further ado" The host said excitedly. That's when the contestants started to look more nervous again, waiting patiently for the results. "Let's have Darryl Lottsman and John Henderson up here to the front of the stage!" The host yelled excitedly. They looked at each other both extremely happy to be in the top two, before quickly rushing to the front in excitement. "We’re sorry for the rest of you who didn’t make it but we’re happy to have had you all here. Alright everyone let’s give it up for the contestants who participated!" The host yelled out. Everyone cheered for them, as the ones who didn’t make it walked off the stage. Some looked sad and some looked happy to have at least being a part of the whole thing. As the cheering and clapping started to die down, that's when the host began to speak up again. He then reached in the back of his pants pocket pulling out a white and gold envelope that held the name of the winner. "And for the moment we've all been waiting for. The judges took a lot of time with deciding which Sculpture they admired the most. The one that showed lots of beauty almost showing no mistakes, and so the winner is..." The host said. Everyone waited anxiously, leaning in anticipation, Darryl and John looking quite nervous but ready to hear the results. Once the host finally opened the envelope he then read the results. "John Henderson! You are the winner for the most outstanding and creative Sculpture! Come on up here to the front!" The host yelled excitedly. Everyone cheered in excitement, confetti falling down on the winner and crowd. Darryl looked as if the life had been sucked out of him right there, while John on the other hand looked ecstatic. He ran up to the front grabbing the trophy from one of the workers who ran on stage. Everyone began to cheer louder as they saw John’s sculpture show up on the huge projection screen for everyone to see. Not even noticing Darryl backing away slowly into the shadows, before finally walking off the stage. His head hung low in disappointment but as if the pain weren't deep enough he heard the people talk about how John deserved to win, with his sculpture looking so majestic and detailed. Saying they were beyond surprised at how well he managed to make the wings look so life like. "What was the other guy's piece again?" He heard a male voice in the crowd as he walked by. "Um wasn't it some kind of lion or something?" Another male person asked. Darryl stayed for a bit interested in what they were going to say about his art sculpture. "Yeah good thing he didn't win. I found his sculpture to be quite boring." One female voice said. "Yeah I mean a lion? Come on you couldn’t think of anything else? It's no wonder he lost to John" said another person female. "I know right? I guess he'll know next time to do something else huh? Ha ha" another guy laughed. Darryl started to back away slowly as tears started forming in his eyes, as he overheard the group of people criticize his work ‘I did my best. I spent days on making every last strand of detail. How could they think it was useless and not worthy?’ thought Darryl not realizing one of the tables behind him, and before he knew it he had fallen over the table before falling to the ground, making the table fall over in the process. That’s when everyone including the group of people who were criticizing his work turned to look at him. Feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed, he finally ran outside of the building. Not being able to take the pressure of everyone judging him any longer. Once Darryl had finally found a place to hide from everyone, that’s when he just broke down in tears. "I can’t believe I thought I actually had potential. No wonder no one liked my sculpture, I'll never be any good. Why did I ever think I could?" Darryl had cried to himself sadly not noticing it, a dark black and purple dragonfly had landed onto his wristband, it fuse itself into it as soon as it made contact. "Do you wish to make the people pay for causing you humiliation?” said a voiced inside Darryl’s head “Because I am here to give you the power to take your revenge and show them your real talent, all you have to do is follow my orders and bring me Mariposa and Fenrir Frost's miraculous" Darryl stopped crying and stands up "Yes. I will do whatever you ask of me Dark Nightmare..." Darryl said with a crooked smile. A dragonfly mark appeared on his face and was glowing a purple light then a dark energy began to manifest all over Darryl’s body. After a few seconds later the dark energy disappeared and Darryl became Akumatized. "Good, I'm glad you understand Sculptman" ~0~ Merida watched as Rapunzel was going back and forth mumbling for the past 5 minutes in the girl’s bathroom, she had tried to calm her best friend down but she wasn’t having any luck. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! What am I going to do Merida?! What am I going to do?!" cried Rapunzel. They have all arrived at the movie theater and bought their tickets, the boys went to find their seats while the girls offered to buy the popcorn and drinks but ended up in the bathroom. While Merida was doing fine, Rapunzel felt like she was going to have a heart attack “What if I fall and spill soda on me? Or even worse what if I spill soda on him?!” she said while drastically shaking Merida's shoulders. Merida grabbed a hold of her hands and took them off of her, then looked at Rapunzel straight in the eyes. "Okay Punzie ye need to relax. Ah dunnae know what yoo're getting’ yerself sae worked up for?” Questioned Merida. "Maybe it's because I'm finally going to spend some time with Jack! And I have no idea what I'm going to even talk to him about!” yelled Rapunzel she was breathing heavily and felt like she would pass out any second. This just all seems too surreal for her; Merida just looked at her in bewilderment, before rolling her eyes a bit and looking at her with a sigh. "Ye do realize we came here to watch a movie together right? Yoo're not gonnae have to worry about talkin’ to heem" Merida said. "That may be true. But what if he asks me how the movie is?! I'll end up freezing or worse saying something utterly embarrassing again!" She yelled in panic. "Rapunzel Ah swear if ye dornt calm down, Ah will teel Jack how ye love to paint pictures of ye and heem married, and how ye take pics of heem without heem knowin’ for references!" Merida shouted. Rapunzel gasped loudly feeling as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water on her head "Y-You wouldn't!" She said nervously. "Ah will if ye keep gonnae crazy on me" Merida said with a playful yet serious expression. "Okay fine... I'll try not to overreact too much" responded Rapunzel. "Good, coz remember we all came here to have a good time. And Ah dornt want ye to be overthinkin’ things and being upset. So just enjoy this, okay?" Merida said placing her arm around her shoulders. "Yes I understand. Okay let's go and watch the movie" said Rapunzel feeling a bit more confident. "That's what I'm talking about lassie! Let's go before the guys think we ditched them" Merida said before pulling Rapunzel in a rush out of the bathroom. They went to buy the popcorn and drinks, lucky for them the line wasn’t too long. Merida was holding four sodas in a box and Rapunzel was carrying four bags of popcorn. Eventually they made their way into the theater room, and looked at their tickets to see where they were sitting. It would’ve been easier had the lights in the room hadn't been so dim. Eventually the intro to the movie started to play and Rapunzel started to panic again ‘Oh no, are we seriously not going to be able to find our seats?!” "Hey girls! We’re up here!" Rapunzel heard someone shout, before she quickly realized it was Jack’s voice, she turn and blushed as she made eye contact with him. Even in the dark she could still see his deep blue eyes. Rapunzel would have looked at him longer but stopped when she noticed him smiling at her ‘I hope he doesn't think I’m weird for staring at him too long’ thought Rapunzel. Merida snapped Rapunzel out of her thoughts by grabbing her wrist with one hand while the other carried the sodas and pulled her along to where the guys are. Rapunzel was nervous and was not ready to go, but she let Merida drag her along anyways. Eventually the the girl’s reached their row seats and did their best to make it over to Jack and Hiccup without stepping on anyone's feet. "Hey ye guys! Thanks for letting’ us know whaur ye were. It was so freaking dark; Ah could hardly see our row number" Merida said as she handed Hiccup and Jack their popcorns and sodas. "Ha ha well good thing you guys at least got in here before the movie started" Hiccup chuckled as he took a sip from the cold drink. "Yeah I woold've been so mad to have missed the beginnin’ of Captain America: Civil War" Merida stated as she grab her popcorn from Rapunzel and sat two seats away from Jack, leaving a seat between him and her for Rapunzel to sit. ‘Oh my gosh’ thought Rapunzel as she held the bag of popcorn tight. "Uh Rapunzel are you going to sit down? You're kind of in the way" Hiccup asked. "Oh uh yeah you're right. Sorry let me just hurry—Ahh!" Rapunzel tried to get to her seat but she ended up tripping over Hiccup's foot, to make the situation more embarrassing she ended up landing on top of Jack's laps and even worse she spilled her bag of popcorn all over him. Rapunzel eyes were wide with shock while Jack, Hiccup and Merida were surprise to what just happen. “I���m so sorry!” cried Rapunzel. "It’s okay. This might be the first time I had popcorn thrown at me" Jack said with a chuckle. Rapunzel began to blush a dark red before hiding her face away from him ‘Is it possible that if you wished hard enough, you could make yourself disappear? Cause I've never felt so embarrassed in my life’ Rapunzel snap out of her thoughts by Jack who help her get up. Then he held her hand to help guide her to the seat next to him. Rapunzel felt her face grow warm again from the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers. "Don't want you falling again right?" Jack said with a playful smile. "Uh er - yeah r-right" stuttered Rapunzel as she sat down and let go of his hand. “Since your popcorn is all over me. You can have some of mine” offered Jack. “M-Me? Popcorn-you? Really?!” asked Rapunzel. Jack smile “Sure” Rapunzel made a nervous smile “T-Thank you” then she felt an elbow lightly hit her in the arm already knowing that it was her best friend Merida trying getting her attention. Rapunzel turned to look at her in question before she saw Merida send her a smirk “At leest you didn’t spill soda on heem” said Merida making Rapunzel blush more and smack her in her arm to make her stop. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to survive throughout this whole movie’ she thought in exasperation. ~0~ The screams of the many people reached his ears as Darryl now known as Sculptman wreak havoc everywhere he went. Sculptman aimed his gun at a man and shot clay all over him and enjoy the sound of terror that he made. Then the clay remove itself from the human and morphed itself to look like the man, while the real one stood solidified like a statue. Sculptman look around and had not seen any signs of Mariposa or Fenrir Frost, he needs to get their miraculous for Dark Nightmare. But since they hadn't shown up yet it wouldn’t hurt to take revenge on the people who made fun of him ‘They thought they could get away with making people feel like crap, like they weren't good enough. No, I will make them pay for what they did to me’ thought Sculptman angrily. And with that thought he made his way to the place where his dreams were crushed. As he arrived at the entrance to the Art museum he lifted his wrist up to shoot out clay from his wristband. The clay ended up spraying onto the doors, hardening them instantly, and then he walked up closer to them before roughly kicking them down. The door instantly falling apart, the people in the museum all turned around in shock, Sculptman let his creation run loose and he shot out more clay from the wristband turning more people nearby into clay statues and gaining more sculture minions. That's when people started to panic and run past him out of the museum. He let them run past except for one group of five people that he had come for. "Oh no you thought you guys were going to get the chance to leave?" said Sculptman with an evil smirk. "Why are you doing this to us? What did we ever do to you?!" One of the girls from the group shouted. "Yeah please let us go!" One of the guys added. "Really? You guys did nothing? Do you not remember how you treated a young artist earlier? How you mocked him and made him feel like nothing?!" shouted Sculptureman at them in disbelief. "W-What do you mean?" One of them stuttered nervously. "Unless you’re... Darryl?" Another person from their group had said. "But how is that possible?!" One of the females spoke. "Does it really matter? You guys made the mistake of talking low of me. Now you'll all pay!” shouted Scultpman as he raised his hand up and shot clay towards them. They all screamed much to Sculptman satisfaction and they were covered with clay. The clay separated itself from the group and morph into the same five people and leaving the real ones frozen as clay statues. He smiled in enjoing the look of fear in their faces and turned to walk out of the Art Museum. ‘Now that they are taken care of, all I need to do now is get Mariposa and Fenrir Frost to come out to play. And I know just how to do that’ he thought before going into town to cause more destruction. ~0~ So far Rapunzel was finding herself liking the movie a lot more than she thought she would. Since action movies are more of Merida's thing but the movie was done really well to where she was enjoying it. Not to mention they managed to add some humor into the movie that was actually funny. Rapunzel reach out to grab some popcorn but then notice Jack’s hand also reaching out and she quickly pull her hand back but then she mentally face palm ‘Wait why did I do that? I could have touch his hand? I’m so stupid!’ "So are you enjoying the movie?" I heard Jack whisper to me. "Huh?! Uh y-yeah I am. How you? I-I mean how about you?" replied Rapunzel quietly as she couldn't help from stuttering. "Yeah I’m enjoying it too. I've been waiting for this movie to come out for years. And I gotta say I’m not disappointed." Jack said with a bright smile. Rapunzel couldn't help herself from smiling back at him ‘It makes me so happy seeing his smiles’ "Hey Rapunzel?" whispered Jack snapping her out of her day dream. "Ah! Uh yes?!" She shouted loudly. Everyone turned to SHUSH at her, and she could see some angry and annoyed faces which made her shrink into her seat and whispered sorry to all of them. Eventually everyone turned back to watch the movie ‘That was so embarrassing’ "Oh my gosh Punzie" Merida chuckled at her, while also giving her that knowing look. "Heh sorry didn’t mean to startle you” chuckled Jack quietly. Rapunzel had her hands in her face trying to hide the blush ‘Can it get any worse?’ As if to answer her question Rapunzel heard some screaming she thought that it could be from the movie but it didn’t, the screaming was coming from outside. Both Rapunzel and Jack jolted up from shock and turned to look at the entrance. Everyone started to look concern upon hearing the many screams. Eventually everyone even felt the ground shake from some kind of blast. That’s when everyone inside the movie theater started to go on a full out panic. "What in the world was that?!" Merida yells in shock. "I don’t know, that felt like some kind of earthquake" Hiccup said a bit nervously. "I-It almost seemed like it was something else” said Rapunzel in confusion. "And I can bet it’s not good" Jack said. Then they heard even more screaming and before they knew it they saw the doors to the movie theater burst open. Rapunzel saw some human sculptures made of clay walk in and started to throw things and gabbing anyone they can get their clay hands on. "Agh! What the heck are those things?!" Merida shouted. "I don't know but I’m not staying to find out, let’s get out of here!" Hiccup had yelled to us. The four teens got up from their seats and started running towards the exit and so did everyone else, they were about to reach the door but then two of the clay sculpture grabbed hold of Merida and Hiccup. "Help!" yelled Hiccup. “Let go of me!” shouted Merida. "Merida! Hiccup!" yelled both Rapunzel and Jack. They were about to help them but more of the sculptures were coming and were blocking their way to their friends. Jack and Rapunzel back away slowly from the approaching clay sculptures and they can still hear their friends struggling to get themselves free. Rapunzel was worried for Merida and Hiccup and knew that she had to act fast ‘I need to find a place to hide’ she looked over to Jack and could see that he had a serious expression on his face. "Jack what are we going to do?" She asked him. Jack saw a broom on the floor and quickly grab it and use it to push the clay sculptures back "Come on! Let’s hurry!" he said as he grab Rapunzel’s hand and both made a run for it. As Jack used the broom to fight off the sculptures they eventually made it out of theater room and able to run past the sculptures and quickly run down the hallway. Jack saw the doors to the bathrooms and he pulled Rapunzel inside the girl’s bathroom. "Stay here. I'm going to see if I can find someone for help" Jack said to her. Rapunzel didn’t like the idea of Jack risking himself to danger "But-But Jack-" "Don't worry, I promise to come back" said Jack giving her a reassuring smile and quickly ran down the hall. As soon as Jack was out of sight Rapunzel check all the stalls to make sure there was no one in the girl’s bathroom and quickly opened her purse and out came Jia hovering next to her “There is no way I’m going to sit back here and do nothing" stated Rapunzel. "You're ready to go save your friends" Jia said with a smile. Rapunzel nodded and had a determine look on her face then her black earing turn to a light pink and then she flip her hand back which touch her earing and yelled. "Jia Wings on!" Jia is pulled inside the earring, then it glowed and the earing morphed into a butterfly. Rapunzel placed both her hands together to her face and spread them apart, it created a fuchsia colored mask with a butterfly wing below her right eye and a vine design on her left eye. She then spread both her arms out and a magical energy appears above her head and glides down on her. Rapunzel’s brunette color hair turns into a golden blonde and it grew longer that reach up to her calves. A fuchsia skintight top with a butterfly wing design appears on her, then fuchsia skintight pants formed on her legs with a vine like design and something wraps around her feet which created a pair of black boots. A flower is placed on the right side of her hair, then two pair of butterfly wings spread out on her back and lastly around her hips a string appeared with a fuchsia pink yo-yo that had a butterfly wing pattern. Rapunzel made a few spins, lifted her leg up and then strikes a pose. Meanwhile... Jack was able to dodge the clay sculptures and manages to get outside of the movie theater. He quickly found a place where he knows he wouldn’t be seen by anyone and that his secret would be safe. “Let’s go Nixx!” said Jack as he looks inside his hoodie jacket but got no respond “Nixx!” “I need my beauty sleep” spoke a small male voice from inside the jacket. Jack made an annoyed look then reach inside his pants and got out a piece of Camembert cheese from his pocket. The scent of the cheese made something flied out from Jack’s hoodie; it snatches the cheese from his hand and began to eat it. Jack looked at the small floating creature known as Nixx he had white fur and blue marks on his body, he had a large head, tiny body and blue eyes. Just by looking at him you can easily tell that he resembles a wolf with his pointy ears, fangs and fluffy tail. Jack crossed his arms as he watched his small friend eat “Guess you had enough beauty sleep?” “Yes but not enough cheese” replied Nixx with his mouth full of cheese. “Well now is not the time” said Jack as he gave a signature smirk and had his left hand into a fist. “Nixx Fangs out!” Before Nixx could finish his cheese he was suck into the ring, Jack lifted his left hand up and his black ring turned silver and in the center appeared a bright blue paw mark. Then with his four fingers he traces them across his eyes which created a mask that was silver with a blue color line below. With both his hands he brush his hair back which cause his brown hair to turn white and two wolf ears appeared on his head. He then spread both his arms out and a blue magical energy slides down, a skin-tight silver body suit appeared on his body with two blue stripes above both his elbows and abdomen. He also had matching gloves and boots with hidden wedges. A blue belt wraps around his waist and a white fluffy tail appears too. Jack made two air punches and a kick and then strike a pose. In the city of Paris these two are more than just your average teenagers, they protect the city and people from the villain Dark Nightmare and his evil Akuma’s They are... Mariposa & Fenrir Frost To be continued…

If you guys are interested in reading more, go to my friend’s fanfiction account listed below:)  https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4736294/ But I’ll also be posting the second part of chapter 1 later today. :) I also gotta say it was a bit difficult but nonetheless really fun helping @linezrodriguez writing the first few chapters of her story. Luna did such an amazing job with her part in writing. I mean if it wasn’t for her this story probably would have never happened. I’m looking forward to helping her write the next chapters. Also I wanna give a special thanks to her friend @rosesnvines  for helping give us some ideas to use for Mariposa’s powers

[thenightling]

What is Neil Gaiman’s Sandman?

What is Neil Gaiman’s Sandman?

Explanation below.

Warning: Here there be Spoilers.

I fully admit that I, myself, am a late comer to the fandom of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics.  Back in the 1990s many friends had recommended the series to me and or insisted that I would love “Death.”   But no one gave me a proper explanation or summary of what I was to expect.  I figured it had to have been an over-rated trend.  I was too busy trying to get people to watch or listen to the Nightmare before Christmas soundtrack (which hadn’t yet become the cultural phenomena it became in the early 2000s).

The comics I read in those days mostly consisted of the likes of Morbius: The Living Vampire, The Midnight Sons, Legion of Monsters, Tomb of Dracula and the occasional Tales from the Crypt reprint when I could find it.  I was lucky enough to have recurring access to a store called Dracula’s Comic Crypt on Long Island.   But as a woman into all things Gothic (and most especially art in the style of Bernie Wrightson) I was recommended Sandman over and over again.

Part of what discouraged me was that I have always had poor eyesight.  Today, of course, on a nice twenty inch computer monitor I can make the comic book images nice and big and keep physical copies mostly for collecting purposes. But mostly I just didn’t really know what Sandman was all about. 

Well, fast forward over twenty years later...  The TV show Lucifer has gained my attention and is both fascinating and fun for being different so I finally cave and decide to read the comics that he first came from... Sandman.  I was particularly interested in the storyline where Lucifer quits Hell (Season of Mists) but I wisely decided to start from the beginning.  I started at the beginning...  It wasn’t long before I realized that I liked this thing... I really, really liked this thing.  In fact I soon found I liked the protagonist, Morpheus, more than Lucifer.   

My response was along the lines of “Why didn’t anyone tell me this was so good?” to which several friends practically shouted “WE DID!”

So for anyone who was or is in a similar situation to me, I’ll explain Sandman as best I can for you right now since no one properly explained it to me back when it was first recommended to me a almost a quarter of a century ago.

_______________

DC comics has had three characters named Sandman.  The first was a gas mask wearing Noir character named  Wesley Dodds.  The second was a golden age style superhero who later passed his mantel on to another, the replacement character called Hector Hall. 

And now for the third, the most important of DC’s Sandman / Sandmen.  The literal Sandman AKA Dream of the Endless, otherwise known as Morpheus. Ruler of The Dreaming realm.  Master of both Dreams and Nightmares.  First published by DC and later concluded by Vertigo (DC’s adult content label) Sandman was a very unique kind of story, set in the DC universe. 

  Morpheus (AKA Dream) sometimes changes his form but he’s fairly easy to recognize because he is always depicted with black talk bubbles with white text, originally intended to indicate a psychic form of communication more than actually vocal (but I think that idea was mostly dropped after the first issue and only hinted at again in the storyline called A Game of You). 

During the very first storyline of Sandman comics Morpheus was captured by humans.

Later it is revealed in a stand alone comic that the universe (in an effort to balance itself out) granted Wesley Dodds certain dream based abilities.  Dodds had something of a psychic link with Morpheus while Morpheus was in captivity. 

Later two nightmares escape from The Dreaming realm and these two (Brute and Glob) manipulate the super hero “Sandman” and his successor, Hector Hall. They do this to create a dream dimension of their own since the one Morpheus ruled had fallen into chaos without him. 

Morpheus / Dream is a member of The Endless and his full title (besides Sandman) is Dream of The Endless.

The Endless is a family of anthropamorphic personifications representing seven aspects or abstract concepts in relation to conscious life.    It’s not as complicated as it seems.

The Endless are:

Destiny:  Destiny is the eldest.  He is depicted as a shrouded blind man whose wrist is chained to a book containing the past, present and future.  Despite being apparently blind he can read his own book.  His sigil (the symbol that represents him) is a book.

Destruction.  Destruction grew weary of ...well, destruction when he saw humanity progressing toward increasing violence.  Determining that each Endless actually represents a concept and it’s counter-part he quit his vocation and wandered off to try to reinvent himself as a creative force instead of destructive.  His sigil is a sword.

Death.  Death is Death incarnate, much like Death of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld but instead of resembling the traditional Grim Reaper Death takes the form of a pale Goth girl with an eye of horas tattoo under her right eye.  You might think that she should be the most depressed or brooding of the group but no.  She’s friendly and optimistic.  She also loves films like Mary Poppins and The Little Mermaid (Disney version).  She wears an ankh pendant, which also is her sigil.

Now we have Dream AKA Morpheus. He is The Sandman of folklore.  Dream is the middle sibling and he is The Sandman.  He rules the realm of The Dreaming.  He has wild “Robert Smith style” hair, bone-white skin and black eyes with small star-like pupils.  Morpheus is also very tall and skinny.  Dream’s sigil is his “Helm” - a battle mask he made for himself using the bones of two Lovecraftian “Old Gods” that attacked The Dreaming a long time ago.  (He almost never gets to wear this helm in actual battle as Morpheus is not really a warrior character by nature).  The helm is made from a large skull and spine and so it resembles a bone version of Wesley Dodd’s gas mask. 

     Desire.  Now come the twins, the first of which is Desire.  Desire is a genderfluid being that can be male or female (or both or neither) at will.  Desire is very fickle and can also be extremely cruel but also (on occasion) can be helpful and once even saved the universe (even though Desire doesn’t remember doing it).  Desire is slender, androgynous and has golden eyes.  Desire’s sigil is a heart. 

Despair.  Despair is the twin of Desire though you might never know it.  They look nothing at all alike.  Despair is a short, very full-figured woman who has jagged tusk-like teeth, and almost never wears clothes.  Despair’s sigil is a ring with a sharp hook attached to it. 

Delirium.  Delirium is the youngest of the Endless and very child-like.  She used to be Delight but someone or something hurt or abused her a long time ago and she became Delirium as a way to cope.  It’s implied that someday she might return to being Delight but as it stands that might take a whole lot of therapy.   Delirium can be very sweet but if you are mean to her or try to touch her without permission she will punish you by driving you to madness.  Her sigil was once a flower.  Now it’s a rainbow blob or smearing of color.

And there you have it.  The Endless in a nutshell.  Now on to the basic plot of Sandman...

_______________________________

Sandman was first published in late 1988 and ran until 1996.  It then had several spin-offs and one shots, a prequel novel set in Ancient Japan (Dream hunters), a collection of short story comics called Endless Nights (one for each Endless), and finally the gorgeous prequel comic Sandman: Overture (compiled as a graphic novel in 2016).

Since the first run of Sandman is over seventy five issues long I will only give a summary of the first story arc.  Preludes and Nocturnes...

____________________

Preludes and Nocturnes:

A group of late Victorian / Edwardian era occultists known as The Order of Ancient Mysteries (Modeled loosely after the Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn) is lead by their Lord Magus, Roderick Burgess.  They use a grimoire known as the Magdalene Grimoire (which will later get use in Green Arrow) to cast a ritual spell to summon Death incarnate but instead of summoning her they accidentally summon The Sandman.

They realize their mistake but decide to keep Dream as their prisoner anyway.

A “sickness” occurs where several people end up with severe sleeping disorders because of the way Morpheus was taken.  One woman ends up with “Sleeping beauty syndrome” where she would wake for brief periods of time but usually slept.  Another goes into a coma.  One young man in Africa dreamt of a cloud castle, as was his usual dream, but the castle crumbled and he became catatonic.  A soldier would suffer a form of “Shell shock” that made him severely insomniactic.  But in general most people continued to sleep and dream normally. 

However in The Dreaming realm Morpheus’ absence was noticed.  And over time things started to deteriorate.  The vast library in The Dreaming started to disappear.  Some dream entities vanished.  Some Nightmare creatures escaped into the human world.

And Morpheus’ castle began to fall into disrepair.  This all happened over the span of many years, mind you.

For over seventy-two-years Morpheus is kept prisoner inside a clear crystal-glass cage, surrounded by a magical binding circle in Roderick’s cellar.   They take his helm, his pouch of dream sand, and his ruby amulet as magical trophies. They also take his clothes and leave him naked and caged.  They don’t even bother to feed him and though he won’t die of starvation he does suffer hunger.  The binding circle holds back Morpheus’ magick and psychic powers while the glass cage holds his physical body. 

During Morpheus’ captivity Roderick grew old and died and his son took his place as Morpheus’ main captor.  And eventually old age started to creep up on the son, Alexander.  One night Alexander visit’s his prisoner (who has refused to speak the entire time of his captivity) and Alex’s assistant (and lover) Paul, accidentally brushes Alex’s wheelchair slightly over the rim of the binding circle, breaching it and it’s hold over Morpheus’ psychic abilities. But they do not notice this slight breach.  Morpheus, however, does notice the breach in the circle holding him prisoner.  Morpheus waits for his opportunity.  As one of his guards has a brief day dream about a vacation on a beach, Morpheus is able to psychically connect with this dream to steal a fistful of the sand there on the dream beach and use this sand as he would use his pouch of dream sand.

Morpheus pretends to collapse within his cage.  

Appearing to be dead, the guards call for their employer, and open the glass cell.  Morpheus uses the pilfered dream sand to make good his escape.  

The first thing Morpheus does is he enters someone’s dream about wearing a clown costume to a party and no one else is in costume.  Here Morpheus (still quite naked) raids the buffet, even eating frog legs from a fried chicken style bucket held by Colonel Sanders.  He’s too hungry to think about anything other than eating. 

Once that’s done he conjures clothes for himself and seeks revenge on his captor...

Morpheus enters the dream of Alexander Burgess where he confronts him on holding him prisoner and how he treated him.  Morpheus used to be a very cruel and petty being and his cruelty lingers long enough for him to punish Alexander severely.  He condemns him to a dream of eternal waking, an eternal nightmare which entails waking up from a nightmare only to find he’s in yet another nightmare, just to wake up again and be in yet another nightmare and on and on forever while his body remains comatose and or may actually, one day, die while his soul could be stuck in that nightmare within The Dreaming for eternity. (Dream does eventually release Alexander Burgess though and forgives him).

Exhausted by this act of vengeance, Morpheus tries to make his way to his castle at The Heart of The Dreaming but faints in “The shifting lands” where he’s found by Gregory The Gargoyle.  Gregory is the pet of Cain. 

Cain and Abel are old horror host comic book characters from the 1960 and 1970s in the style of the Crypt Keeper, with Cain compulsively murdering Abel roughly once a night (Abel recovers each time as he’s immortal).  And yet Cain and Abel weirdly love each other. 

These characters originally came from the comic book series The House of Mystery and The House of Secrets.

The House of Secrets are the comics that first introduced DC’s Swamp Thing. 

At The House of Mystery (Cain’s home) Cain is presenting Abel with a new baby gargoyle egg (this gargoyle eventually gets named Goldie.  Originally Abel called the baby gargoyle Irving but Cain insisted that gargoyles need G names) that’s when Gregory (the large green Gargoyle) carries the barely conscious Morpheus to Cain.  This is one of the only times in the comics where you out right see Morpheus ask for help.  He’s a very proud character.

Cain and Abel set about nursing their king back to health.

Morpheus gradually recovers in Cain’s House of Mystery (Abel’s home is The House of Secrets) before making his way to his castle (now in ruins) in the heart of The Dreaming.  Morpheus’ loyal librarian, Lucien, had been trying to keep things running in Morpheus’ absence.

Lucien AKA Mr. Raven (not to be confused with Morpheus’ spy raven, Matthew, who comes later) is another horror host from older DC comics and the castle he resided in (known as the “Ghost Castle”) turns out to be Morpheus’ own castle, which has appeared in both The Waking World and The Dreaming, much like Cain’s House of Mystery and Abel’s House of Secrets.

Meanwhile Morpheus’ usual groundskeeper, Mervyn (A Jack-o-lantern headed scarecrow) had taken to driving a bus in The Dreaming and had to be brought back to The Castle to return to his original duties. 

Morpheus realizes he needs to get his property back- The pouch of dream sand, his helm, and his ruby dreamstone amulet (which is a conduit and amplifier for his powers) that had been taken at the start of his captivity and had drifted to different owners over time.  The Hecateae (The triple goddess AKA The Furies AKA The Fates AKA The Kindly Ones) tell Morpheus that John Constantine had his pouch of Dream Sand.  And so Morpheus goes to meet Constantine.  

John Constantine (who is a practicing occultist and private investigator) figures out that a former lover of his his own has the pouch of self-replenishing dream sand (he, himself, was unable to pull the draw strings of the pouch). The exlover has tragically been using the sand to get high and several Dream entities have been feeding on her imagination when she does this.  Her body is shutting down.  By the time Morpheus and Constantine find her there is little that can be done but Constantine demands Morpheus do something for her and so Morpheus gives her a pleasant final dream before she passes away.  Morpheus repays Constantine’s assistance by helping him with his chronic nightmares.

Next Morpheus has to retrieve his helm, which was taken by a demon.  Morpheus is forced to visit Hell to reclaim it.  Here he is guided by Etrigan The Demon (a demon that exists Dr. Jekyll and Hyde style with a human immortal host, Jason Blood).  Etrigan deliberately takes Morpheus past an imprisoned former lover of Morpheus’ own, Nada. She pleads for Morpheus to rescue her but he tells her that though he loves her he has not yet forgiven her.  (later we learn Morpheus left her in Hell because she rejected him back when he was a much crueler character).

Morpheus has started to change since his captivity.  He’s becoming softer, less cruel.  And though he does not rescue her here, he will eventually go back for her after his older sister, Death makes him realize that he had wronged Nada.

The demon who has taken Morpheus’ helm challenges him to a contest where each one has to out do the creativity of the other, inventing personas that would best the previous one conceived by the opponent.  Eventually Morpheus wins with the simple phrase “I am Hope.”  

This is later (much later) very bitterly sweetly elaborated on in the prequel comic Sandman: Overture, where Hope is revealed to have been a little girl whose ghost helps Morpheus but all he can remember of her is her name.

Side note: Lucifer (the main ruler of this Hell) becomes bitter and slowly makes up his mind to quit ruling there.  He does not get around to doing this until the storyline called Season of Mists, in which Lucifer leaves the key to Hell to Morpheus when Morpheus came back, looking to rescue Nada.  Lucifer also asks Morpheus to help him by cutting off Lucifer’s large bat-like wings for him. (Lucifer gets those wings back in his own solo comics, back to their original white, feathery Angelic state).

Eventually Morpheus gives The Key to Hell to two Angels who turn Hell into a place of redemption, and Lucifer retires to Earth where he opens a piano bar in LA called Lux but that’s a whole other story.

Morpheus’ ruby dreamstone amulet had been taken by the villain Doctor Destiny AKA John (or Johnny) Dee. (Not to be confused with Morpheus’ elder brother, Destiny personified).  Doctor Destiny AKA John Dee was being kept at Arkham Asylum.  Doctor Destiny happens to escape around this time as Morpheus is trying to reclaim his lost amulet.  The amulet was in a Justice League of America storage warehouse.  The amulet had been so corrupted by Doctor Destiny that merely touching it saps Morpheus of a great deal of his strength and he collapses, fainting in the warehouse, where it was being stored. 

By the time Morpheus regains consciousness, he finds that Doctor Destiny has taken the amulet and Doctor Destiny had used the ruby’s power on a diner full of people (whom he has toyed with, driven to madness, and then ultimately killed or made them kill each other and themselves in very gruesome ways).  Doctor Destiny and Morpheus have a confrontation where Doctor Destiny says he will kill Morpheus. 

Morpheus tricks Doctor Destiny into following him into The Dreaming where Doctor Destiny destroys the ruby, believing it will kill Morpheus if The Dreamstone is destoryed.  Instead of killing Morpheus, the power that was in the ruby dreamstone reverts to him, making Morpheus more powerful than he had been in centuries.  The ruby had contained a small fragment of Morpheus’ very soul.  Morpheus (who has started to change, becoming a bit kinder) shows pity on Doctor Destiny and instead of cruelly punishing him, he escorts him back to Arkham Asylum where he gives all the inmates a night of deep sleep and pleasant dreams.    

Once Morpheus has gotten back his lost artifacts he restores his castle and library. 

Now Morpheus feels restless and uncertain as to what to do with himself.  He’s lonely and feels like he’s lost his purpose.  So he goes to a park to feed the pigeons in order to try to cheer himself up.

(He loves birds and feeding birds is a comfort for him).  Here he meets up with his sister, Death, who makes pop culture references that fly right over his head (Since he’s been out of touch for nearly a century and wasn’t very good at slang to begin with). 

Morpheus loves and respects his sister and doesn’t understand why so many people fear her. 

He considers himself far more terrible than she could ever be.  She manages to cheer him up by simply being there.  She has him accompany her as she makes her rounds through the city, escorting souls to where they are meant to go. 

There are several adventures for Morpheus after this but this is the first story of the Sandman comics.  Most of his adventures deal with Morpheus righting the wrongs of his own dark past and coming to terms with very human things such as loneliness, friendship, guilt and grief.

Marvel fans might notice that Morpheus AKA Dream has certain similarities to Marvels’ Nightmare character.  And there are definite similarities.  The biggest difference is Dream is essentially what would happen if Nightmare went on a redemption arc.

_________________________

Other adventures of note:

At one point Morpheus is summoned to help Calliope, the muse.  Calliope and Morpheus had been married thousands of years earlier.  She has recently been held prisoner by cruel mortals who use her for inspiration and have physically abused her as well.  Morpheus tries to ask for her release and when that doesn’t work he’s forced to torment her captor with maddening, intensely creative dreams until he releases her.

Another storyline deals with Morpheus going back to Hell to rescue his abandoned lover, Nada, only to find that Lucifer has quit and Lucifer asks Morpheus to help him cut off his large bat wings (which he gets back as pretty feathery wings later in his own solo comics.)

Lucifer goes to Earth and decides to learn how to play Piano, among other things.  His lover, the demoness, Mazikeen, soon follows, while Morpheus’ older sister, Death, tries to sort out what to do with all the newly displaced wandering souls.

When Morpheus is left the key to Hell, various supernatural entities, beings of folklore, and religion come to The Dreaming to try to claim it from him.  One demon that arrives (made of many mouths) has Nada imprisoned inside of his very being.  Morpheus goes inside the demon and rescues Nada and while he’s there he also finds and rescues the very demon that had once had his helm and challenged him during the first Sandman storyline, Preludes and Nocturns.  Morpheus’ sense of compassion has grown.

In his pride Morpheus gives a flimsy apology to Nada for leaving her in Hell and she slaps him hard across the face.

He apologizes more sincerely after momentarily getting angry and tells her that she has a choice to make.  Nada chooses to be reincarnated.

When she’s reborn in Hong Kong, Morpheus sneaks into the nursery in the hospital maternity ward, where he cradles the baby, (The baby is male), telling the baby that he’ll never forget her and that she’ll always be welcome in The Dreaming.   

The key to Hell is ultimately passed to two Angels who choose to try to make it a place of reformation and redemption but somehow devise tortures equally as cruel (if not crueler) than what was there when Lucifer ran the place.  In Neil Gaiman’s lore souls only go to Hell if they believe that is what they deserve and then demons take advantage of that there in Hell.  In Lucifer’s stand alone comics it’s revealed that he was not given Hell as a punishment but as a place where he wouldn’t have to live in his Father’s shadow.  It became a place of darkness and misery because of Lucifer’s own dark mindset.  Lucifer now seems content on Earth and never returns to ruling Hell.

(Note: The current Devil / Satan of the DC universe is “First of the Fallen” (a different entity from Lucifer as Lucifer is “retired” and is not actually categorized as evil anymore.)   

In current DC / Vertigo lore, a different being, “First of The Fallen” has taken the title of Satan while Lucifer has happily become a neutral character, considered neither Good nor Evil (though leaning heavily toward Good in his TV show incarnation).  Lucifer is retired and categorized as Neutral in his moral alignment while First of the Fallen is categorized as Evil.  Lucifer may have been the first Angel to fall from grace but he was not the first entity to fall from grace (by that list Lucifer is actually the fourth to fall) and so Lucifer does not actually have the title First of the Fallen in the current comics. 

One sweet storyline in Sandman is how Morpheus met a man who ‘refused to die” (an immortal) and the man (known as Hob and later Robert) agreed to meet with Morpheus every century to tell him what it was like to go from being mortal to being immortal, how his life has been for the last century, and to tell him if he wanted to continue to live).  In the 1700s they run into John Constantine’s Great, great, grandmother, Johanna Constantine, who mistakes Morpheus and Robert (Hob) as “The Devil and the Wandering Jew” and tries to capture Hob / Robert and Morpheus. 

In the 1800s Hob confronts Morpheus on the fact that there are actually other formerly-human immortals around the world and Hob believes Morpheus only meets with him once a century because they are friends and not because he is curious to know how Hob handles his immortality.  Morpheus becomes indignant and prideful, insisting that he doesn’t need friends.

He storms off and Hob calls after him that if he shows up next century he’ll know it’s because they’re friends and no other reason.

A century later Morpheus arrives and Hob admits he had not thought he’d come and Morpheus tells him that he had been told that it is rude to keep one’s friends waiting.  It’s sweet.

In the lore of Sandman Morpheus is the father of the mythological Orpheus, the musician who went into the Greek underworld to retrieve his dead wife. Orpheus’ mother is the muse, Calliope.  Hades agreed to let Orpheus have his wife back if he did not look back at her until they left The Underworld, proving his trust in the Greek God of The Dead.  Orpheus made the mistake of looking back at her at the last second and so lost her just before they could exit The Underworld.  Orpheus was then later torn apart by zealots and since he was condemned to immortality he was stuck as a severed head.  Shortly before going to The Underworld Orpheus had denounced his father, Morpheus, for refusing to help get his wife back from The Land of The Dead.  Hurt and angry, Morpheus refused to help him other than to send some priests dreams about Orpheus so that they and their descendants would tend to him (as he’s just a severed head) for centuries to come.

In the early 1990s, when Morpheus’ youngest sister, Delirium wants to find their lost brother, Destruction, Morpheus is forced to go to Orpheus to find out where Destruction is.  Orpheus bitterly greets his estranged father and tells him that he will give him the information he needs but only if he does him the one mercy he has been pleading for, for centuries.  Morpheus does not want to do it but finally out of mercy he kills his own son, reuniting Orpheus with his wife in The Underworld.  But Morpheus is left with a deep remorse over how he treated his son and for Orpheus’ death.  Morpheus retreats to his private rooms in his castle where he weeps, alone.

Morpheus eventually gets mistaken as the kidnapper of baby Daniel ( a child who, while fetal, spent an unusually long time in The Dreaming realm.  Daniel is the son of Hector Hall, the second superhero Sandman who passed away).   Lyta, the baby’s Mother, is lead to believe her child is dead.  She calls upon the Kindly Ones (representatives of the crone aspect of The Triple Goddess) to seek revenge. They tell her that they cannot seek revenge for her son but an Endless is not allowed to kill someone of their own blood, nor is Morpheus allowed to kill at all except to protect The Dreaming.  As Morpheus has violated these ancient rules, they can seek revenge over the death of Orpheus.

The end of the Sandman comics has Morpheus “die” sacrificing himself to stop The Kindly Ones from Destroying The Dreaming.  Morpheus’ loved ones grieve him but it’s a little ambiguous as to if he’s truly dead.  Morpheus had become weary of his role as ruler of The Dreaming but he knew that he could not just abandon it the way Destruction had abandoned his role.  And he could not quit the way Lucifer had, though he does quote Lucifer about being so very tired.

 The Kindly ones seek Morpheus’ death or the destruction of The Dreaming.  Morpheus gives up his life to save his realm, allowing his sister, Death, to take him.  As Morpheus “dies” all of his memories and power pass on into baby Daniel, who transforms and now wears an emerald with a small amount of Dream’s soul within it.  Everything that was mortal of Daniel is gone as he is transformed into the new incarnation of Dream.

When Lyta had mistakenly thought Morpheus had taken her baby, Daniel had actually been kidnapped by Puck and Loki but Daniel was ultimately rescued by a Nightmare being known as The Corinthian, and Morpheus’ Raven spy / messenger, Matthew (who had been a human soul who died in his sleep and was allowed to remain in The Dreaming after his death as Morpheus’ loyal servant.  Matthew (in his human form) had originally been a character of the Swamp Thing comics.

Daniel- now simply calling himself Dream- (which was Morpheus’ alternate name) took an adult form that looks much like Morpheus except with white hair instead of black.  This can be seen as similar to a Doctor Who style regeneration however there are other things that make Morpheus’ death fishy and or potentially a false ending.

Hob AKA Robert (Morpheus’ immortal friend) has a dream of Morpheus in which Morpheus is with a man he does not know (Destruction) and both walk off together. 

This can imply two things.  1.  Morpheus could have faked his death very elaborately and is telling Hob (as he has told Hob things via dreams before) or 2.  Morpheus did die and Daniel resurrected him as a Dream (which actually is one of his powers, to resurrect anyone who dies in The Dreaming realm as a Dream entity, maintaining free will, personality, and soul).  

And that’s about it.

Though there are serious and complex parts, some of Sandman is fun and light too, such as when Morpheus allows Delirium to drive... in the human world...

And there you go.  A crash course in what the Hell Neil Gaiman’s Sandman actually is.  Despite the spoilers of this post, I assure you that the actual comics are much more enjoyable to read.

[luninosity]

The fic I am attempting to write for @viperbranium as a birthday-present is going to be WAY TOO LONG to finish on time, so, I shall write something else, but here, in the meantime, is the first part. <3

##

When they are half-grown children, only boys at play, Steve Rogers convinces Bucky Barnes to visit the witch.

 Bucky sighs, smiles at him, and says with the long-suffering tones of nearly six years of friendship, “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, I guess, Stevie…” Steven Rogers, Crown Prince and heir to the small but wealthy city-state of Lynsbrook, beams at his best friend. Bucky sighs again.

 They duck out of the palace, two cheerful heads—one light, one dark—and energetic running; the Queen watches from above, and smiles, because they are only heading for the marketplace, because James Buchanan Barnes will never let her boy come to any harm.

 The market swirls and eddies around them. Baskets of plums and berries bob past. Women and men call out, tempting, beckoning; the scents of fresh-baked bread and flowers and meat, the bright hues of dyed and woven fabrics, dazzle the senses. Steve gets dust in his hair and up his nose. He loves it; he loves his people, all of them. He’s a king, or he will be. He’s here to protect them.

 He sneezes. And then he coughs. Bucky Barnes tugs him into an alleyway, brushes ineffectively at a smudge of grime on Steve’s cheek, mutters, “I should really toss you back into bed…”

 “I’ve been in bed. And you’re my knight, anyway. You’re keeping me safe.”

 This gets Bucky to laugh. The first year he’d arrived—the year his whole family’d arrived, journeying across the wild grasslands from Ind—he’d run into a small sickly boy sitting in a palace hallway, because Steve’d tried to go on an expedition to the kitchens and had needed to sit down and breathe. Steve remembers that first meeting the way he recalls almost nothing else: bright and clear and sharply etched in his mind.

 James Barnes hadn’t known who he was, because the Heir had been ill when the Barnes family arrived at Court. Bucky had promptly sat down on the floor with him and said, “We’re on a quest, right? Where’re we going? The kitchen? Good thinking, waiting for a fellow knight to show up to help, it’s kinda treacherous, all those lava stairs, it’ll take two of us.”

 James Buchanan Barnes has been at his side ever since. And when Steve thinks about Bucky, that’s what he thinks about: the sort of boy who’d be a knight for someone else, not knowing the other person might be his king.

 Bucky, in the present, grumbles, “I could be working on that model flying-machine…building a copy of Alexander the Great’s glass submersible…reading a book…” Sunshine sneaks through market-stalls and lands on his hair like a happy crown.

 “Come on, Buck.”

 They wend their way toward the end of the market, the hushed side, the ebbing.

 The witch always sets up her stall there. She’s mostly a fortune-teller, and some people laugh, and some people speak of her skill in hushed voices. She’s the last, they say, or at least there aren’t really any more witches. Fading out in this technology-laden new century. Designs for airships and Bucky’s model submersible, a full-scale version of which is being contemplated by the engineers housed in Lord Stark’s tower. No need for magic.

 The witch is younger than Steve expects, and pretty, with dark hair and unlined skin. She wears her wealth in jewelry: rings, necklaces, bracelets that clang and shimmer. She does not have a crystal ball or a broomstick, though she does have a tabby kitten, who yawns at them indolently and goes back to sleep. The tent’s quieter than Steve expects, almost reverent, and he wishes for a second he’d let Bucky finish getting the dirt off his face.

 He’s Steve Rogers, though, and so he squares up shoulders and says, “I want to know my future.”

 “That,” the witch says calmly, “is a large and complex question.”

 “Steve,” Bucky says, “I’m not sure we want to do this…”

 Steve turns to look. “You dared me to get on the rolling coaster at the traveling fair.”

 “Yeah, and that was a bad idea, you kept throwing up after…”

 “I want to know,” Steve insists to the witch, “if I’m going to die.”

 Bucky’s face goes pale. “Steve—”

 “Everyone dies.” She spreads hands in a jingle of silver. “Why should you be any different, Steven Grant Rogers?”

 “How do you know who I am?”

 Bucky hisses, “How many stupid skinny blond idiots with an addiction to trouble are there around here, Steve?”

 Steve looks at him, really looks. Something about Bucky’s expression… “Are you scared?”

 “No! I just don’t see the point. I just—you’re not going to die, okay?”

 The witch’s gaze slides past Steve to Bucky. She draws a breath, lets it go. “Ah. I’m sorry.”

 “Sorry for what?” Steve asks.

 “Don’t,” Bucky says. “Just—fine, if you want to do this, fine. Let her answer your question. I’ll be outside.”

 That’s usual, one questioner at a time, but Steve’s heart does a funny thing. It does a lot of funny things, that’s partly why his question, but somehow the idea of being separated from Bucky’s not a nice one. Uncomfortable. And Bucky still looks spooked, off-balance, maybe. Steve says, “Stay, it’s fine, I don’t care if you hear the answers, I tell you everything anyway.”

 Bucky shuts his eyes, opens them, and his jaw’s tense but he nods. He stays next to Steve.

 The witch takes Steve’s hand. Her fingers are cool and slim and light as water. She hesitates, tracing lines. Steve’s not going to interrupt, and waits. Bucky’s visibly trying not to twitch, beside him.

 “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted,” she says at last, looking up. Her fingers lift away, leaving only silvery memory on Steve’s skin. “But before that…you’ll lose what you love most. You’ll find it again, but it won't be the same. And neither will you.”

 “But he’s not going to die,” someone says, and that’s Bucky; Steve glances over, puzzled.

 “No.” She gathers skirts, shakes them out. “Not the way you’re asking about, in any case. There are always possibilities. As you know.”

 “Okay,” Steve says. The afternoon’s gotten strange. Drawn tight and let down simultaneously, a paradox of mystery and deflation. He’s had an answer. He should feel better about that. Confusion and concern about Bucky’s reaction snarl in his chest. “Buck, do you want—you want to know anything?”

 “Maybe,” Bucky says, looking at the witch, and now Steve’s even more confused. “Stevie, wait outside.”

 “What?”

 “Wait outside,” says the witch.

 “Bucky,” Steve says, ready to fight a witch if Bucky asks him to stay, but Bucky tells him to go.

 Steve goes. Steve stands in sunlight and tips his face up to drown in it. Steve kicks a small grey pebble.

 Steve Rogers, standing in a dusty alley at the back of the market, loves Bucky Barnes.

 This realization lands like a thunderclap, except with no clouds and no noise. Steve gulps for air nonetheless in astonishment.

 Bucky doesn’t leave him. Bucky doesn’t send him away. Bucky doesn’t have secrets from him. Bucky’s all kind eyes and weary wry patience and scientific enthusiasm; Bucky saves people, always has, always will, but right now Bucky asked from space away from Steve—

 His head spins. His heart hurts, a dull physical throb. Bucky Barnes is the other half of his life, but what if Bucky doesn’t feel the same, what if this love is Steve’s alone, what if—

 The second thunderclap hits with more force than the first. What he loves the most. He’s going to lose it. He’s going to find it again, but not the same. Bucky.

 Shaking, lungs collapsing even worse than usual, Steve Rogers stares at a witch’s tent and wants to fight his own future with both bare hands. His future, and Bucky’s. Bucky, who—

 Who ducks out of the stall, runs a hand through his hair, straightens up. He’s taller than Steve, broader-shouldered already, growing up. He’s a little pale, and hiding it behind a cocky grin. Steve might’ve not noticed, a minute before.

 “Hey,” Bucky offers easily, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “At least you didn’t find a local shopkeeper to argue with while I was gone, this time…”

 “He was overcharging that widow! And what did she tell you?” He stops walking, shrugs Bucky’s arm off. Bucky blinks in surprise; well, Steve’s annoyed. “You told me to go!”

 “I didn’t think you’d listen.” Bucky’s avoiding the question. “You never have before…”

 “Buck,” Steve demands.

 “Nothing,” Bucky says, walking again. “She said—”

 “Fuck you,” Steve says, too sharp because his heart’s bleeding out, but Bucky just tops that with, “I’m answering you, okay?”

 “Okay…sorry…”

 “I know you got a mouth on you, Stevie. She said I’m too hard to look at, anyway.”

 “Well, you are, who wants to look at you.” Steve pokes him in the arm. “Seriously, come on.”

 “Seriously…” Bucky makes a face, somewhere between abruptly too young and vulnerable and older than Steve’s ever seen, more grown up in the span of a few minutes. “Okay, but you can’t laugh. It’s ’cause I’m a witch. She said.”

 “You,” Steve says. His Bucky? His bright-eyed scientific-philosopher best friend? “Magic’s dying out, Buck, you thought I’d believe that? It’s a joke, right?”

 “The potential, anyway,” Bucky says, and Steve figures out that this is serious after all, at least for Bucky, and gets quiet. “Not really…not unlocked. Yet. But I could be. There’s a future…”

 “So you’re going to go off and, what, be a witch?” That question comes out too sharp, too. Bucky leaving him. Again.

 “No.” Bucky puts the arm over his shoulders again; Steve lets him. “I’m not…if I don’t ever…those paths don’t look…I don’t want to go down that road, okay, punk? Leave it alone.”

 “Jerk,” Steve says, and means: you’re not leaving me, you’re here, I love you. “I won’t tell anyone you’re a witch if you don’t tell anyone about the fairground rolling coaster, deal?”

 “Yeah,” Bucky says, “deal, hey, should we pick up some apricots, you know your mom loves them?” And they pick out the best apricots, surrounded by sunshine and market-chatter, backs turned to the shadow and silver of the witch’s tent.

[writinglangst8703]

Images.

*Trigger Warning: Anorexic Lance, by popular demand*

Okay so I don’t actually like the ending of this story, I didn’t know quite how to end it with the limit I had. So hopefully you like it better than I do.

It was the shaking that started first for Lance, the constant tremble of his fingers.

He would be fine at first, just slight paranoia that would sway in and out of his mindset.

1, 2, 3, 4…

A couple of minutes, once even an hour passed by, and Lance could do that.

But then the trembling would start. It would start as a twitch in his neck and then he wouldn’t be able to sit still.

Following that his hands would start to shake, violent tremors that left Lance barely able to hold things or he would end up sitting on his hands.

He was disgusting. He couldn’t keep it like this.

Lance would excuse himself to the bathroom from wherever he was, no matter where he was.

Disgusting.

He would lock himself in a stall or a bathroom and he would crouch in front of the toilet and let the shaking take over.

Lance would let it all take over.

His mind would become dark and heavy an the thoughts of what resided within him would make him feel sick.

Here’s the thing.

Lance played off confidence. He was so attractive, such a flirt, best looking guy this side of the universe.

But when it came to mealtime he knew the exact opposite of that. Hell, he knew it all the time but it especially strengthened around that time.

It’s different than some food you don’t like and don’t want to keep down. This was everything.

The idea that with the food he ate he was just making himself seemingly fatter and more disgusting inside and out that it started to consume him.

Anyone could look at Lance and tell him he wasn’t fat. His clothes fit lose enough for that fact and just his shape in general.

Lance wasn’t fat. He was perfect weight and if anything he was starting to be on the verge of underweight.

But you couldn’t convince him of that. Not completely of course.

He looks in the mirror and no he doesn’t see a fat person, he sees the weight he is losing but that’s not the point.

If the skin near his abdomen so much as slightly bunches then there was too much there, right?

It wasn’t all about weight and being skinny to the boy though. Of course not, that’s never how it is.

Lance was not focused on being model perfect. If he was skinny then maybe the girls he flirts with would like him, right?

Obviously trying to work out like Keith didn’t work, but the mullet haired guy was skinny too.

In all honesty Lance didn’t have a set reason. Maybe it was the anxiety, which is what he used to tell his therapist.

He would be so anxious that he couldn’t feel he could eat. The nauseating feeling he always played off as being too nervous.

What happened was soon Lance found the hunger as a distraction from the anxiety. Something else to focus on.

The boy was terrified of dealing with his insecurities and the anxiety that came with each day that he needed to feel something else.

So hunger it was.

Maybe he did know the reason he was like this. That didn’t make it any better.

Lance went like this for months.

If he were forced to eat, and if he felt full, Lance would take himself to the bathroom and make himself sick.

That is if the anxiety of facing his anxieties didn’t do that for him. It was tedious.

He wouldn’t be able to tell you how many packs of gum he went through a week; more than a smoker with a pack of cigarettes.

Lance was in too deep.

It was a day the gang had gone out to go swimming, and Lance had not exactly cared to go.

But Pidge had coaxed him into it, and Lance couldn’t ever deny her.

Lance had tried to get a swim shirt for himself but none would fit him; always too big.

So when everyone decided that swim hurts didn’t matter, Lance was forced to go out in what was the casual swim trunks.

And here he stood now.

Shiro and Allura were teamed up on each other’s shoulders in the pool, with Pidge and Keith as their opponent.

Hunk was makin snacks at the little poolside bar. It smelled good.

Lance stood in the doorway o the act Rene’s door of the house, towel wrapped around him and the anxiety eating away.

He knew how he looked. How skinny he was, deathly.

But he didn’t want to go out their and have to deal with his friends concern. They hadn’t seen him without a bulky hoodie or jacket on in months so they were completely unaware.

He felt dizzy. He was hungry and the snacks Hunk was making didn’t help it. His heart was beating too fast.

The worry finally did him in. He ran to the bathroom even though he had been there only minutes prior.

Back outside in the pool, the game over and everyone lounging, it was Allura who looked to the house.

“Didn’t Lance say he was coming out? He’s been in there nearl an hour…” She said with concern in her voice.

A moment of silence passed around the friend group.

“Well he did just get over being sick a couple days ago, he’s probably still a little off.” Pidge suggested.

Shiro furrowed his brows, but it was Hunk who spoke. “That’s like the third time he’s come down ill in the past month.”

Keith rubbed his jaw, “It’s summer, this is usually when he feels his best. Plus he never denies the pool. He probably is just fussing over his shirt epidemic.”

Shiro stood, “Let’s go check on him. He hasn’t been himself for awhile and I think we should talk anyway.”

A few of them didn’t seem too keen on interrupting their fun afternoon, but decided Lance was more important.

“Alright.”

One by one they all clambered ou of the pool and to their respective towels to go back in the house to check on Lance.

“Lance, buddy?” Hunk called upon enterance.

They all made it to the bathroom, assuming he was in there because the light was on and the door closed.

No answer.

Keith frowned, “Lance! Come on, we’ve been waiting forever. Your trunks are fine.”

Shiro gently moved Keith to the side, putting his hand on the doorknob and turned.

It was open.

“Lance, we’re coming in.” He announced.

He turned into the room, stopping before he got even a few steps in.

“Lance.”

He rushed to his friend, and such a big guy shouldn’t have been able to move so fast.

“Lance!”

The blue eyed boy was laying against the shower, slumped over and pale. His eyes were closed.

“Oh my god what—”

The others were seein Lance and they all looked sick and horrified at what they saw.

Lance was so small looking, and he was generally a tall person. Taller than almost the whole team.

He didn’t look wider than Hunk or maybe Shiros thigh at best, and his bones were showing in all the wrong places.

Ribs protruding, arms and legs so deathly thin. He must not have had anything on his face because it didn’t look as full as it usually did.

The things people could do with make up.

Shiro was shaking Lance, but it was an awkward movement as the man was afraid he would break the guy.

“Lance! Lance!" 

There was no response. Again.

Allura led everyone except for Shiro out, and everyone was in a panic.

How had Lance gotten like that? Was he okay? What was even happening?!

Shiro didn’t come out for several minutes, and when he did his eyes were distant and he looked preoccupied.

"Uh…”

Everyone’s eyes were on him, some were almost teary. All were scared, most concerned.

“Allura, can you please call an ambulance…” His voice was hardly an octave above a whisper.

“I… Of course.” She rushed off.

Keith stood now, “What is it? Is he okay? What happened to him?!”

Shiro was the one who looked sick now, and unsure how to handle the situation they were now placed in.

What are you supposed to do when you walk into a bathroom looking for your friend and suddenly you’re saying:

“Lance is dead.”