#but i still remember that girl with some fondness in spite of her cringe

[andromeda3116]

for some unfathomable reason, i've been thinking a lot lately about this insane comedic original story i started when i was first at college and didn't have internet, way back in 2008, and i went back and tracked it down (on Ye Olde LiveJournal, which hauntingly still exists in the aether) and like. i still kinda have a fondness for it. it's ridiculous and extremely 2008, both in terms of being dated and in terms of who i was a person then, but i still kinda wish i'd ever finished it. the idea has milled about in my head of actually handling the concept now, as an adult, but tbh, i don't think it would really translate into my style now. it just exists as an artifact of my sense of humor circa age seventeen.

i can still remember being the person who wrote it, sitting in that dorm at that desk on that dinosaur laptop and you know, sometimes i still miss her.

[angelhummel]

could you rank the degrassi next class characters?

gladly!! also sorry in advance if you love any of the characters im about to shit on lol

20. Frankie Hollingsworth. Almost had her second to last but. No. Klu Klux Fran?? The ZOO?? I can't even talk about her she's just so damn annoying and racist and omg. And she was being pushed as the new Main Girl which made everything all the more offensive and unbearable

19. Esme Song. Sorry but I do not think she had a single redeeming trait. She had nothing she stood for, no actual character beyond being an antagonist to every single other person on the show. Like she thinks Shay is stupid for being embarrassed about getting her period on her boyfriend's pants, and yet she calls Yael disgusting for having armpit hair?? So what's the truth? And people are like "well she's mentally ill" to excuse all she does. Well Maya is mentally ill and Esme makes fun of her too. So who's side are we on? Like I would've liked to see her get help and develop but we didn't get that so.

18. Hunter Hollingsworth. Terrorist. Not even interesting enough to be an actual school shooter. Just a waste of a character. Sexist, violent, had a plot about wanting to play video games at school. I'm so bored. Only not at the bottom bc I feel like he wasn't in my face as much

17 & 16. Baaz Nahir & Vijay Maraj. Thing 1 and Thing 2 to the would be school shooter. Clowns. They were a terrible group and I cringed any time they had a plot together. Annoying together, useless on their own. Hard pass

15. Yael Baron. The final member of the above group. Was mostly boring and annoying and especially dumb for being romantically interested in Hunter. Only gets bonus points for their coming out as nonbinary plot. After their makeover I was literally crying

14. Jonah Haak. Mostly disliked him for being in a relationship with Frankie. Like I'm sure they were only a year or two apart but he felt so much older than her. It was gross. And mostly he's just really blah. The attempt at a straight edge character at that point was. Hilarious. at least.

13. Winston Chu. Seemed harmless at first but idk all the boys were shifted high into clown mode when this show hit netflix. The incident with the geisha and Japanese soldier costumes? Defending Zoe against Esme? Then later telling Goldi maybe she should take her hijab off to cause less of a fuss? Bruh.

12. Saad Al'Maliki. Honestly I felt like he was the one with the most braincells most of the time. Probably pissed me off the least. But he was also in the least amount of episodes and didn't make much of an impression on me. Was mostly just boring. But I'll take boring over everything that came before

11. Lola Pacini. Degrassi has a knack for introducing the worst and most obnoxious characters and then eventually making you love them. Lola was not quite that. I hated her for the longest time but it decreased a bit near the end. I got emotional when she had her abortion. And when she gave Yael their makeover. And when she reached out to Saad and convinced him not to leave. I feel like I could've grown to like her more if the show went on, but again... Oh also I hate her and Miles together sorry

10. Grace Cardinal. Ugh Grace is confusing to me. I wasn't the biggest fan of her story with Zoe. I mean sure you're allowed to hook up with someone and then realize "oh that's not for me" but it was handled so awkwardly. Like she slept with Zoe just to be like "damn i hate when everyone thinks i'm a lesbian :/" like why. Idk she was fine but I'm not over the moon about her

9. Goldi Nahir. Ugh okay I feel like they didn't know what to do with her. Like she had the plotline about if she should take off her hijab or not. And she had to teach the poor whities about racism. That was about it? She was adorable and sweet and a bright spot in the show but ugh she deserved better than what she was surrounded with lol

8. Shay Powers. Again, it's not her fault she's stuck in a show written by 70 year old white people. But the black girl is completely oblivious to the racism of her friend? She has to ask her dad if a racist thing is really racist? She's never experienced racism? Ok Degrassi. They treat all their black girls like shit and I feel like I just stan them out of spite bc of that lol. But she's cool and a nice person and she's into sports so she's at least doing stuff

7. Rasha Zuabi. Another generally nice and cool character that I have positive feelings for. Also she was gay so yay. Loved her story with Zoe. I think there was just one moment where I was like "wtf are you doing" but compared to everyone else it's not a big deal

6. Zig Novak. I have to admit that all my enjoyment of his character comes from before Next Class. He was such a sweetie and then he left and came back acting dumb as hell. That was not my boy in Next Class. But ahhh he's still my boy sorry I love him <3

5. Deon "Tiny" Bell. Basically the same as Zig above. But I feel like he maybe had a few less moments of being an asshole? Also his promposal for Shay was cute <3 Wait didn't he also date Lola? Wasn't a fan of that either.

4. Zoe Rivas. She was the one dressed up as a geisha lol (: Oh boy Next Class was something else. Umm it was nice to see her process of accepting herself as a lesbian. I feel like it took forever tho. Which is understandable irl but this is a tv show lol. I didn't enjoy her sucking Zig off in the woods. Not fun. But her relationship with Rasha was one of my fave things about NC

3. Tristan Milligan. The amount of hate Tristan gets is faaaar too much. He's one of my favorites of the whole show honestly. I think he's funny and dramatic and a great addition to the show. But he gets knocked down bc I can't remember anything he did in Next Class other than BEING IN A FUCKING COMA FOR A WHOLE SEASON. He's already Owen's brother, he's suffered enough. But I love his relationship with Miles. And him helping Zoe accept herself

2. Miles Hollingsworth. Yes another character I wasn't fond of at first. Hated his relationship with Zoe and thought he was just boring. Truthfully I think I only became interested when he started dating Tristan lol. Plus omg with his family?? It's a miracle he got out at all. He went through so much bullshit and he was especially going through it in Next Class. He was kind of a hot mess but also I just care a lot about him. He deserves the world <3

1. Maya Matlin. Is Maya really my fave?? I guess so! Yet another character I wasn't fond of at first. Which is insane bc we just got to the part in our rewatch where she first shows up and I'm like !!! baby girl!! So precious!!! And I wanted to cry thinking of what she's about to go through. I feel like her character is treated with some of the most respect and care. Her motivations and mental health decline all make sense storywise. I just care a lot about her and got super emotional watching everything in her story, especially the later parts in NC

Wow this is a lot!! But I hope you enjoyed my ranking and explanations lol. Also like. Everyone was racist. Everyone was mentally ill. That was the whole show. It was a hot mess and truth be told I am not a fan. Even the characters I love, they were acting weird here. Like I said about Zig and Tiny and their character regression. And I think it was the same for like Tristan and Zoe and plenty of others too. Everyone was off, idk how to explain it. But that's my ranking for the hot mess that was Next Class!!

Thank you for the ask, ily <3

[baekchelor]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝ have  you  ever  been  in  love? horrible  isn’t  it?  it  makes  you  so  vulnerable.  it  opens  your  chest  and  it  opens  up  your  heart  and  it  means  that  someone  can  get  inside  you  and  mess  you  up.❞                                                                                                                         ―neil  gaiman

ONE | SCRIPTS & BONDS ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

The first read-through for Dharma happens three weeks later at a film studio in London. Although George allowed Daisy to sleep at his place last night, he didn't even say goodbye when he walked out on the girl deeply asleep on the wrong side of the bed. He wanted to be early as usual, and leaving coffee ready on the kitchen counter didn't fall bellow a No-Strings-Attached relationship, so he didn't bother. There are only Greta Gerwig and some staffers to greet when he's ushered into the venue.

"Y/N isn't here yet," George observes, tired blue orbs scanning the room.

"Don't worry," Alma smiles. She's already slipped a coffee cup into his hand, the way she always does in work mornings when she's well aware George is still half-asleep. The boy snickers to himself, his manager is so predictable. "She'll be here."

"She's probably still with Henry," George surmises. Y/N isn't known as The Witcher’s princess for nothing.

Alma shrugs, encouraging to slurp his Americano and mind his own business. George is well aware this chat makes him look foolish and inexplicably jealous. Thankfully, Alma gossips along, "I don't doubt for a second she may have slept with him last night. But she won't be sleeping in, I can guarantee you that." George tilts his head, asking for more in tell. Alma's red-stained lips stretch open in a yawn. "She always comes on the dot, apparently. Never early, never late."

More interested than he should, and with an amused grin, he consults the time on his phone. Nine o'clock. "Thirty more minutes, then." He places the iPhone on the table in front of him, next to his script. "Let's time her." Alma chuckles, shaking her head. George plays dumb, opting to dramatically smell his coffee before proceed and take another sip from his cup. He picks up the thick white booklet, lines already colour-coded per actor, and starts to read through it.

Dharma is set in 1857 India. Aakesh, a penniless Hindi boy —portrayed by Dev Patel, the main lead— has always known his social standing is a consequence of wrongdoing in his past life. Y/N plays Marina, a wealthy Spanish girl Aakesh believes to be his past life love and the trigger of his attempts to clean his karma. George's character becomes involved when Colonel Edmund Thorn (Michael Fassbender), concerned about the safety of his fianceé, Marina, assigns James as her personal guard. They fall in love.

Thumbing through the middle section of his script, where the plot starts to thicken, it suddenly dawns on George how much acting this movie is going to require of him. His character demands him to declare his devotion to Marina with mere gazes, words few. Still, each movement of his body vociferates a heartfelt love, deepest that any he's ever impersonated.

George closes his eyes, trying to get in character. He imagines himself having this conversation with someone he desperately loves. He pictures Daisy in his head. Her thick, ash blonde hair and smiling eyes, the pink warm of her cheeks and the heat of her mouth when he kisses her.

It feels like cheating, though, because his character is supposed to be in love with Marina, and although Daisy is a girl he enjoys spending time with, he is not in love with her.

George's sigh exits in a long, laboured stream of breath.

"Everything all right?"

The voice is sweet, with an upward lilt to it. It sounds hesitant too, but like it's trying not to be.

The boy looks up. Y/N is studying him, dark-haired and flushed, the expression on her face shy.

"Oh, hello there," George smiles, clearing his head of its haze. He rises from his seat and extends a hand. "I'm George."

"I know," she giggles, holding it. Her palm is cold, whereas George's is warm. "I'm Y/N. I really admire your work. I’m a big fan… Probably had seen all your movies."

George can't help feeling a little sheepish at that. "Thank you," he says. Their arms fall back to their sides. "Same here. Without the 'I'm Y/N' part," he jokes, and he wants to slap himself for being that lame.

"Geo’s friend is a big fan of your boyfriend," Alma quips from behind her. She's too practical to ever get star struck. "I'm Alma, by the way. Geo's manager."

Y/N smiles charmingly as she shakes Alma's hand. And George finds himself in a daze, he loves the way she behaves, how her voice sounds like and the welcoming aura she irradiates.

<< The fuck is wrong with you?>>

"Nice to meet you, Alma." She turns back to George and smiles wider. She has small, pink lips; like petals. "I can arrange a meet and greet if you'd like."

"Thank you," George says, smiling back in spite of himself.

Y/N's eyes twinkle as she coyly shrugs her shoulders. She's wearing a tight little skirt George is sure Daisy owns too. It just doesn't look as good on her as it does on the girl who's currently in front of him.

"Whoa! Look at us getting along," she cheers, eyes transformed into two crescent moons, "Must confess I came prepared to try to break the ice." She seems to check herself then, pursing her mouth and laughing all of a sudden. "Sorry, that made it sound like we're going on a blind date or something."

George laughs along because her giggles are contagious and it is kind of funny. "We kind of are? We're playing star-crossed lovers and didn't even do a chemistry test. I'm pretty much going into this thing blind."

"Aren't we?" Y/N looks like she's glad to find someone in the same boat. "I was just telling--"

"Henry" George quips. His mouth stills awkwardly over the last syllable. He's not sure why he's letting himself be so familiar with this girl when they've only just met.

Y/N doesn't seem to mind, though. "Oh, no, no," she rolls back on her heels, "Henry and I are kinda...well..."

It puts George at ease for some reason. "Oh I see," he says affably with absolutely no bite to it, and Y/N's soft smile flashes again. "You were saying?"

"I was saying," she continues, "I was telling Dev about the no chemistry test thing, and he goes:" her voice fakes a man's voice, heavy British accent and everything, "you guys don't need it. Look at you both! Would look so good together.'" Y/N shakes her head a little, chuckling as she exhales. "I wasn't sure how to react."

"My friend Dean said the same thing," a smile creeps without George's consent as he confesses Dean's mischief. Y/N lets out a soft Oh. "I guess we just, I dunno-"

"You just have natural chemistry," Greta pipes up out of nowhere. She softly squeezes Y/N's cheek fondly. "Still on time, uh? You never change."

"It's all on Vanessa," she giggles with equal fondness. Vanessa is her manager slash personal assistant. George thinks the actress relationship with Greta is reasonable since they've worked together before in a movie he can't remember the name, but she stared alongside Timotheé Chalamet.

The director strikes up a bit of small talk about Y/N's last movie, The Selection, where she and Tom Holland bring the book to life in Netflix's screens. If George remembers it correctly, Holland plays a prince and Y/N portrays a commoner who is selected to compete for the prince's heart. The movie seems a cringe, but for some weird reason, George has decided to watch it once he gets home. Hopefully, Daisy will be gone by then, and the boy would stop at the convenience store to buy beer and popcorn.

George picks up his phone. Stealthily, he checks the time. Nine thirty-five. He and Y/N have been talking for approximately five minutes.

<<On the dot>>, he thinks to himself, recalling Alma's words. Then he hears his name. "Pardon?"

Y/N is saying, "I'll go sit with Dev. Catch up with you later?"

"Yeah, of course," due to his actor demeanour George can hide the disappointment trapped between his words. He understands she has to sit with Dev, their characters interact throughout the entirety of the film. "Do what you have to do."

"Talk to you later then," she shoots him a bright smile, her pink gums gleaming inside of it.

Greta is calling for the rest of the cast to take their seats around the square actors' table. Call it luck, but Dev and Y/N's sits are right across the chair labelled Mackay. The brit places his phone back on the table and slides into his chair.

"By the way," she says, turning around again. "Do I call you, George? Or..."

"Or?" flipping back to the first page of the script, he folds the cover back neatly as he questions the girl with his eyes.

"Your manager called you Geo." Y/N returns her inquisitive gaze. "That's your nickname?"

"Sort of," George laughs. "Very few people call me that way."

"May I?"

He shrugs, "Sure." As he rubs his palm over the script, he decides, on a whim, to try something new. How James, his character, calls her: "Ms Marina."

The crinkles in the corners of Y/N's eyes make the risk worth it.

"Okay," she says, walking backwards with her hands entwined. "Let's have fun today, Geo."

"Flirty Thirty” A gleam of the eye, a quirk of the lip, and it isn't Marina talking anymore, is Y/N tittering.

The room erupts in laughter. George's laughing the hardest of all.

"Y/N," Greta scolds half-heartedly. "Don't break character."

"Sorry, G," Y/N apologizes sweetly. "I thought I would break the ice."

Somehow, George finds himself smiling.

Today marks the fourth official Dharma read-through, and the tenth time they've gone over the entire script. George gets why Y/N is antsy; he is too. He can't wait to start filming in Mumbai, to smell the air of the streets, hear the whir of traffic and fast-paced Hindi. He can't wait to feel James in his bones in every take, the character encasing him, flesh and blood.

Fact is read-throughs are boring. So d*mn repetitive. George is just glad he's got perfect girl Y/N Y/L/N around to make things bearable.

Gerwig sighs in resignation. "Let's break for lunch," she says, addressing the entire group, "Reconvene in an hour."

George catches Y/N's eye and mouths, Padella? Y/N nods vigorously, flashing two thumbs up and a bright smile. The one the boy has grown fond of.

"I'm dying," George tells her a few minutes later as they walk to the restaurant. Luckily for both, it is near the film studio.

"Same here," she agrees. "One last read-through then India, here we come!"

"But we go through the script three times each meeting," George is half-whining, half-sniggering at the way Y/N's eyes roll to the back of her head. "We'll probably take even longer than usual today because of your little adlib."

"Sorry..."

"It was fun, though." Quickly, George reaches out to ruffle the hair on the top of Y/N's head. He wants to touch her. He just doesn't know why nor how and he doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. He cares too much for her. "Not a lot of laughs in this love story of ours."

Y/N doesn't bother smoothing down the mess. "Can you imagine loving someone as much, Geo?"

"Uhm..." George brushes a fingertip against his own fringe. He needs to get it trimmed before they start the live shoots. "I don’t know. Their love is something out of this world.”

"Yeah," Y/N watches the movement casually. "It is."

They get to the restaurant and the waiter, who is clearly a fan of hers, greets them enthusiastically.

"You two are so good looking," she gushes, but George knows the compliment is directed at Y/N. The waiter, who's tag reads Flo, merely is trying to be polite by her use of pronouns. "You get more and more dashing every time I see you." Y/N gives her the prettiest smile, and Flo enthusiastically looks at George, beyond happy for the reaction she got out of Y/N. George would be thrilled as well if the prettiest girl at Padella smiled at him in such a way...

<<What?>>

Padella has become a familiar haunt. They'd gone after the first read-through —when George discovered Y/Ns favourite food was any type of pasta— and every read-through after that, always ordering a dish they haven't tasted before and two glasses of wine. Not exactly in keeping with the diets, but George reckons these cheat days won't hurt. He and Y/N have taken to exercising together too, fitting in the gym sessions between their Dharma meetings and other schedules.

"I gained weight when I was a teenager," Y/N admitted during one of their workouts. "I had to work out to keep the weight off. Not like you." She'd smiled her sweet, bright smile, and George could imagine her being just as likeable with double the meat on her bones.

"I grow a beer gut like that," he'd told Y/N, snapping his fingers. "So I have to work it off, too."

In record time, Flo brings their dishes, leaving a courtesy starter on the table. George grabs his fork and swirls it through the fettuccini. It makes a pleasing, gooey sound as he incorporates the Pomodoro sauce.

"Oh, right, if I may Ms Marina," George says, giggling. The actress hums in return, mixing the contents of her own plate. "Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? My sister is cooking carbonara, your favourite."

"Oh my god," Y/N looks up from her dish, mouth-watering at the mere thought of her favourite food. "She won't mind me crashing your dinner?"

"No," George replies, slouching over his bowl. "She asked me to invite you."

"Really?" her orbs go a little round. "Why?"

A mouthful of bolognese disappears into George's mouth with a slurp, "I might have mentioned your love for Italian food."

Y/N takes a sip of her rosé, "Won't you mind me crashing your sibling dinner?"

"Nah," he smiles. “We're friends." He swallows the food he's chewed into the side of his cheek and tries not to meet Y/N's eyes. "I kind of like hanging out with you."

"Oh," she answers instantly, so blasé, pink across her cheeks. George adores it. "I kind of like hanging out with you, too."

George glances up then, and they share a knowing smile before going back to their food. It's oily and red, a little salty. George knows he's going to have to wash his teeth and throw a box of mints into his mouth before they go back to the read-through, but he doesn't care. It's delicious.

Their comfortable silence is broken when Y/N's phone rings inside her Rebecca Minkoff’s bag. She pulls it out, glances at the screen, and gestures to George that she's going to take it outside.

"I'll be right back," she says; tongue running over her teeth. The boy nods, just as Y/N answers the call and turns.

"Hey, H," George hears her say as she pushes through the door. "What's up?"

Cavill, he thinks to himself, sucking up to another curtain of fettuccini.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he should tell Y/N to bring a date—as in Henry. But the idea is pushed to the back of his mind when Flo comes by their table to ask if they would want more wine, and it doesn't resurface, not even when Y/N strolls back in from her private call.

In her pale silk blouse and tight little skirt, the one Y/N owns too, Daisy looks every bit as gorgeous as she does in her Basic House ads. George gotta admit. Yet he feels a little itch when he looks at her, it bothers him, so he focuses his attention on the other Daisy in the room. His sister.

She's setting down a plate of sour bread on his dinner table, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Luhan watches her lazily, admiring the classy decoration of the table. It looks out of a restaurant. Much better than Padella's.

"Since when my sister's become a chef?" he says playfully. His sister giggles in response, her attention too immersed in the preparations. She wants it all to be perfect. Scratch that, more than perfect.

Only then George returns his gaze towards the other Daisy, and he notices she's staring at him, a pout on her pretty red lips.

"Why not?" she asks. George wants to roll his eyes, but he's too polite to do so. He lets her continue the tantrum, "You know I used to have a poster of Henry Cavill in my old dorm, right? The whole time I was in University?" George barely nods. "So please, please, please, please, please... Please, George. Let me meet his girlfriend, hmm?"

"No," he answers. The hurt in Daisy's green eyes confirms he's been too harsh. He reaches up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. She lets him do it, wearing a small and sweet smile. "I'll get jealous, baby," he lies in an attempt to soften his previous words.

She laughs, hiding her face as it turns a flattering shade of crimson. She's always been flattered by stuff like this and George doesn't understand why. They're not a couple, to begin with.

"Okay," she circles the table, fingers lacing into George's as she sits on his lap. She plants a kiss against his lips, "I'll get going then. Call me later?"

"Yeah," he pecks her on the tip of her nose and her eyelashes quiver.

The moment Daisy leaves, her namesake, George's sister Daisy, pops his head from the kitchen.

"You know, Henry is my celebrity crush too," her feet express her enthusiasm in small jumps. "I'm so excited!"

"You what?" George's nostrils flare, "Why every girl I know is infatuated with him?"

The doorbell rings before George can retort any further. His eyes flick over to the wall clock on impulse. 8PM. Of course.

"She's here," Daisy smiles, hands flapping at her sides. She combs back her hair, pauses, and repeats the action two more times.

It reminds George of the time he'd run into Brad Pitt backstage at an award show in Los Angeles. He was already famous by then, but he'd still tugged at the sleeves of his tux obsessively, hoping the jacket was sitting squarely on his shoulders, right before he'd said hello.

He walks to answer the door as Daisy places the pasta on the table. Y/N's standing in the corridor with a bottle of red in one hand.

"Ms Marina," George drawls, "Is that you, in my humble home?"

Laughing, Y/N kisses both his cheeks in greeting. George chuckles, taking the wine, and suddenly, he feels his face burning hot. "On the dot, as always."

The girl blushes. At least he's not the only one.

"Come on in," George waves her through the door. "My sister is dying to meet you." He can hear the hissed Geo! like a whip slicing through the air.

Y/N snaps her knuckles, a smile pulling up evenly on both sides, "Hello, Daisy."

A demure, cotton-soft voice replies, "Hello, gorgeous. It's so nice to meet you.”

"Likewise,” the actress beams.

Save for a few bites of pancetta, the serving plates look as though they’ve been licked clean.

"That was so, so good Daisy. The best carbonara I've ever had" Y/N compliments the cook. "Thanks for letting me try it."

"Any time" she replies, looking like a kid who's just been handed a present. George smiles at her, pouring both girls another glass of wine.

The night has gone well. Being the outgoing type, Daisy wasted no time in making Y/N  feel comfortable in her brother's home. She'd seated her next to George at the table, fussing over them both as she peppered Y/N with questions about her last two projects. She'd let slip that she'd watched every season of The Tudor's and Y/N's smile had been bashful.

"I loved Henry's work," Daisy had admitted, and George couldn't help but giggle at how quickly his sister's face coloured in bright pink.

George offers Y/N the last bit of burgundy in the bottle. When the latter declines, licking at the wine-stained seam of her mouth, he pours it for himself.

"You don't have to be so formal with me," Y/N tells Daisy, her tone already fond. George can tell she likes that. "I'm a big fan of Henry too. I had the biggest crush on him before I even met him." Her face is still a little rosy. She blushes really easily, and George likes it.

“It still feels weird. Henry is your boyfriend!”

"It's totally fine. Trust me," Y/N reassures her. "We can fangirl over him as Geralt every time you want. I don't mind."

Daisy squeals.

"Okay, enough girl talk." It isn't jealousy what makes George scoff. At least that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his pocket for cigarettes. "I'm just gonna go for a smoke, okay?"

Daisy’s pretty face pinches, "I wish you'd quit. Those things are horrible for you."

"I'll just have one," he bargains, sweet as honey. He pats his belly, crafting a compact sound. "I need it. You fed me too well, sister."

Y/N sniggers and Daisy rolls her eyes. Pointedly, she asks, "Do you smoke?"

"Sometimes," Y/N answers. “But I agree, it’s nasty.”

George watches as Y/N —the traitor—agrees with his sister, "Anyways, you should come with me so I can show you around."

"You shall," Daisy encourages.

“I don’t know,” the actress murmurs but George has already hooked his fingers behind her elbow and is half-hauling her out of her seat. "C’mon, let's go."

"Fine. Lead the way, Geo."

They take the elevator down to the pool area on the fifth floor, where smoking is permitted. George puts a cigarette in his mouth, holding his lighter in front of it, so the flame ignites it.

Y/N takes a long sigh. "Daisy is great," she says quickly. "She's so much like you."

"Thanks. I guess?" George exhales, the smoke curling in a ribbon of diaphanous white. "You’re still seeing Henry, uh?"

The other smirks. "You say that like you know it for sure."

"Alma likes gossip” George licks his lips. They taste of wine and olives.

The girl shrugs. "It’s kinda..." she answers. "It's on and off."

"Oh?" George blows a few smoke rings, rounding out his mouth and flicking his tongue to create the hole in the centre. "Mind if I ask why?"

"No particular reason," Y/N rushes the answer. "I’d rather not talk about it. Sometimes it... it just doesn’t work, ya know?”

Without thinking, George makes an offer he didn't realize was on the table. "Whenever it doesn't work," he says, "you should just hang out with me," he quickly continues, a little freaked, words rushing out, "and Daisy. Me and Daisy."

Y/N laughs, just once: its all gums and perfect pearly teeth. "Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Hardly, Mrs Prettiest Face On TV," George retorts mildly. Y/N laughs again, and George can't tell if she's sarcastic or earnest. Not that it matters. "It's just you and my sister got along really well, and I–"

"Thanks," Y/N cuts in. Her eyes are particularly feline in this light, and her voice is a degree more gentle than it was before. "I'll take you up on that."

She watches him smoke in silence for a few more minutes, the night air clouding with the filmy exhaust of his cigarette. When Y/N yawns, George stubs it out. Then he loops his arm around her waist.

Unconsciously, she leans into the touch. "It's weird," she observes, "that we didn't know each other two months ago."

"Really weird," George concedes, slightly buzzed from the wine and only half-aware that something has lifted between them. "I’m glad it's two months later."

In the days leading up to India, dinner at George's become a regular thing. Every two nights, Y/N will show up with something to add to the table: wine, desserts and beer, a floury baguette wrapped in paper or a basket of fresh fruit.

Sometimes Daisy joins them, and the conversation flows like blood through veins. At around midnight, Y/N will excuse herself to give the siblings their space but not before George extracts a promise from her to work out or watch a movie the following day. (She happens to love cinema as much as him.)

Other times, when Daisy is out with her boyfriend and the other Daisy isn't smouldering George with text messages asking him to dine with her, go to the movies with her, come to the theatre to see her, bla bla bla; George will chat idly with Y/N until the wee hours of the morning. The ice in their drinks will crackle and melt, diluting their colour, as they discuss their childhood dreams and the trajectory of their careers. They recount their upward climb in show business, the slow decline of some of their peers, and the fear that they might someday be in the same boat. They joke about their management and how both companies have long given up on damage control when it comes to their love lives.

George tells her more about caring, candid Alma, and Dean, his co-star and now best friend.

"Blake and Schofield are real-life BFF's?" George’s companion asks incredulously, "I stan so hard."

In turn, Y/N confesses him Sam Mendes is her absolute favourite director, and George promises to introduce them. She also voices about Henry, their ups and downs and the fact half of their circle of friends categorize their relationship as toxic.

"Keep that to yourself," Y/N adds after a brief lull. "I've never told anyone about it."

"They won't hear it from me," George swears, taking a gulp of watered-down Pilsen. He doesn't even tell his sister.

Dharma begins its live shoots three months after the first read-through.

Y/N and George are scheduled to film in Mumbai for four weeks. Alma informs George it's likely they will extend to six due to Greta Gerwig's infamous obsessive compulsiveness. His actors often end up filming simple scenes over and over again for days, because the director doesn't think the natural light or the colour of a couch or the feeling is quite right.

"Already cleared it with the boss," Alma shares brightly. She means the head of his management, who happens to love George, as all CEOs love their biggest star.

"Fine with me," the actor says. "I don't mind staying in Mumbai a little longer." He's worked with less pleasant directors than Greta before, and a little OCD won't take the fun out of filming with Y/N.

He's pleased to discover that the other feels the same way.

"Let's press for six weeks," Y/N says as they climb into the luxury car waiting for them at the airport. She speaks in a natural tone of voice, as though there isn't a swarm of fans screaming outside the vehicle. "I had only been here once, years ago, I lived in a small city near Mumbai called Pune for almost two months.”

"How come?"

"School stuff... I can't wait to rediscover India. Have you ever been?"

"Nope," George says, sliding off his sunglasses and running a hand through his hair. "Count me in on the exploration."

The way Y/N looks at him like he's her closest person in the world right now makes George's insides warm.

ɴᴇxᴛ►

@loulouloueh​

[bellakitse]

Of little girls and their cats

TK Strand has seen Officer Carlos Reyes before, but it isn't until he meets his daughter that he gets to know the man.

* Carlos has a daughter, his daughter has a cat up a tree, TK brings the cat down.

TK watches as his fellow firefighter, Judd Ryder comes back into the kitchen from talking with his wife with a broad smile on his face.

“What’s so funny?” he can’t help but ask, he’s only known Judd for a few weeks, and this kind of open amusement is not something he’s used to.

“Grace,” Judd says with a smile, his voice fond the way it always is when he speaks about his wife. “She got a call from her goddaughter, telling her that her cat Mr. Whiskers is stuck in a tree and asked if she could ask the firemen to come and get it down. She called to ask if I could drive over there, it’s not far.” Judd finishes looking over at Owen in question.

TK watches his father too, no matter what the movies say, firefighters don’t really waste their time getting cats down from trees, but TK also knows his dad is a sucker for kids, plus, it’s been a painfully slow shift, everything is clean, and everyone is bored.

TK stands up, knowing before his father even opens his mouth that he’s going to indulge the little girl. Sure enough, Owen smiles.

“Let's go save Mr. Whiskers,” he says to the room, grinning when the rest of the crew laughs as they head downstairs.

Judd nods, pulling out his phone again as he follows Marjan and Paul, more than likely calling Grace back to tell her they’re going.

TK walks alongside his father, elbowing him in the side. “You old softy,” he says quietly, grinning when his father gasps at the word old.

“Who can say no to little girls and their cats?” Owen questions him.

TK shakes his head, amused. “Not us, it seems.”

They get into one of the trucks, and just like Judd promised, the ride takes no more than ten minutes before they’re pulling up to a blue ranch-style house with a massive tree in the front. As they get out, TK spots the cutest little girl, probably no older than seven with long curly hair in pigtails by the tree. Next to her is another girl, a teenager who is looking at them with wide eyes and worry on her face.

“Someone called about a Mr. Whiskers?” Judd calls out a step behind him, and TK watches as the little girl lights up.

“Uncle Judd!” she screams, pulling out of the teen’s hold to run to the other fireman. TK watches as the surly man grins widely, picking the girl up.

“Mr. Judd,” the older girl addresses him, and the rest of them. “I’m so sorry Lisbeth called you guys. I didn’t even realize she had the phone in her hand. Her dad is on the way, and he’s not happy about it.”

Judd waves the girl’s apologies away.

“She called Grace, not dispatch, we just had free time on our hands,” Judd reassures her, turning the little girl in his arms towards them. “Lisbeth, this is the 126, wanna say hi?”

The little girl seems to go shy as all eyes are on her, hiding her face in Judd’s neck as she gives them a small wave.

Judd just smiles, hiking her up higher on his hip. “Guys, this is Lisbeth Reyes, she’s officer Reyes’, daughter,” he tells them, and TK tries not to react.

He knows the name and the man, he’s seen him more than once on a call, and while they haven’t spoken much, there is still this thing between them. Something indefinable but very much there. Maybe it’s that TK is a hundred percent sure that they’re eye-fucking every time they’re near each other.

TK shakes his head, probably not the best time to think about Officer Reyes and how much he wants him when in front of his kid. He’s not done considering that, when they hear the siren of a police car. TK and the rest of the crew turn to watch as the car pulls up to the house, and TK holds his breath as Officer Reyes steps out of the car, large, imposing, and damn hot in his uniform. He has a frown on his face as he focuses his attention on his daughter.

“Lisbeth Rebekah Reyes,” Carlos starts as he steps on the grass with his hands on his hips.

“Uh-oh,” Lisbeth whispers, which Judd agrees with a hum as he puts her down.

“Mr. Reyes, I’m so sorry,” the teen says quickly, looking around at all of them littering the yard, watching and waiting.

Carlos flashes the young girl a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, pulling out his wallet and giving her a couple of bills. “I know how tenacious my kid can be, you couldn’t stop her. I need a sitter next Tuesday afternoon, that work for you?”

The girl nods, taking the money.

“Good, I’ll text you,” Carlos gives her another calming smile. “You can head home, I’m done for the day.”

The girl hesitates for a moment before heading back towards the house, more than likely to collect her stuff.

Carlos turns back towards them, kneeling in front of his daughter. “Lisbeth, what have I said about calling 9-1-1?”

Lisbeth looks around at them with wide-eyes, and TK has to bite down on his lip to keep from jumping in to defend her.

“Lisbeth?”

Lisbeth takes a deep breath, letting it out loudly. “9-1-1 is only for emergencies,” she recites.

Carlos raises an eyebrow as he nods. “And do you think Mr. Whiskers being in a tree, is an emergency worthy of calling 9-1-1?”

Lisbeth shakes her head, and Carlos nods again.

“That’s right –“

“But I didn’t call 9-1-1, Papi. I called madrina, and she called uncle Judd,” Lisbeth says, cutting her father off.

TK watches as Carlos closes his eyes for a moment before standing back up, glaring at Judd. “Seriously, man?”

Judd shrugs, unconcerned. “That’s what you get when you make my wife your daughter’s godmother.”

“I’m trying to teach a lesson here about not bothering first responders with non-emergencies,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes when Judd just shrugs again.

“We’re already here,” TK interrupts what looks to be a stalemate, and he has to remember to breathe when Carlos’ eyes lock on him for the first time since he arrived. TK feels the tension spike between them instantly, and he knows he’s not imagining it.

It’s there crackling like a live wire.

“We might as well get the cat down,” he continues, looking away from Carlos to look down at the little girl. “We’ll get him down, okay, sweetheart?” he says to her, getting a wide smile in return.

The next few minutes pass quickly as they set their ladder, and TK climbs up the tree. He gets a few scratches for his troubles, but soon he’s jumping back down with a fat tabby in his arms. He rolls his eyes as his team mockingly claps for him. Ignoring them, he gets down on one knee in front of Lisbeth.

He tries to focus on her and not on her father, who stands behind her with his hand on her shoulder, watching him.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” he says gently, smiling at her as he hands her the cat. He lets out a surprised sound when Lisbeth steps forward and wraps one small arm around his neck, Mr. Whiskers between them letting out a meow at the indignity.

“Thank you,” Lisbeth says quietly, those pretty brown eyes of her full of joy, and TK thinks he’s completely smitten with this cute little girl. It would make sense given his crush on her father. He sneaks a look up at Carlos to find him watching him with a smile on his face that makes TK’s heart skip.

“Thank you, TK,” Carlos says softly.

It's not the first time Carlos has called him by his name, but it's the first time he's said it in a way that feels personal and intimate. He watches him for a moment, spotting interest, and maybe even affection in his eyes, and TK wants to get lost in the warmth of Carlos' gaze.

Someone clears their throat behind him, and TK blinks, realizing that he's been in a staring contest with the officer while his crew and the man's daughter watch.

He stands from his kneeling position, feeling his face grow hot as he catches the smirk of more than one of his teammates, his father's eyes all too knowing for his comfort.

"No worries," he clears his throat. "It's our job," he says inanely, cringing when he hears his father let out a coughing laugh.

He's embarrassed, but still, as Lisbeth beams at him, and Carlos gives him a small quirk of his lips, he thinks it's worth the ribbing he's going to get when they get back to the station.

*

"TK!"

TK stops mid-pull-up to look over at Paul, who is walking into the equipment room with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Officer hottie and his kid are downstairs waiting for you," Paul grins, his eyes dancing with amusement when TK's hold on the bar slips, and he slightly trips as he lands. "And I believe we're at the baked goods of your mating ritual, because I spotted brownies."

TK smiles in spite of himself. It's been three days since they were at the Reyes household. Three days of his path, unfortunately not crossing with Carlos'.

He starts to leave the weight room only to have Paul throw him a shirt.

"Dude, don't send that man into cardiac arrest with all that on display," Paul gestures towards TK's sweaty torso making a face.

"Knew you thought I was hot," TK winks at Paul, grinning when Paul scoffs.

"Whatever pretty boy," Paul smirks. "Just make sure you get a date this time, or the teasing you've been getting these last few days will seem like child's play."

TK waves his middle finger in the air back at Paul, making the man laugh again. Going downstairs, he spots Carlos and Lisbeth talking to Judd over by the trucks.

"Hey," he calls out as he slips on his shirt over his head. He doesn't miss the quick way Carlos runs his eyes over him though. "What brings you by?" he questions as he comes to stand in front of the small family.

"Hi, sweetheart," he smiles down at Lisbeth.

"We made you some brownies," Lisbeth smiles back up at him, turning to tug on Carlo's shirt. "Daddy, give him the brownies."

TK looks at Carlos, taking the pan from his hand when Carlos extends it. Pulling back the aluminum foil, TK breaks off a piece of the treat, popping it into his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hums, his eyes lighting up at the chocolatey taste. “These are delicious Lisbeth, thank you.”

Lisbeth beams at him, her cheeks going rosy, and TK can’t help but be charmed.

“You going to share those?” Judd questions, crossing his arms over his chest.

TK raises an eyebrow, looking back down at Lisbeth. “What do you think sweetheart, should I share?”

Lisbeth makes a show of thinking it over, making TK and Carlos smile, while Judd makes a disbelieving sound.

“Lisbeth,” he pouts, putting on a show for the little girl making her giggle.

“I guess you should be nice and share,” she finally says, smiling so hard a dimple appears on her left cheek.

TK chuckles as he catches Carlos eyes, which are also amused as he watches TK interact with his daughter. There is something else there though that remind TK of Paul’s comment and springs him to action.

“What do you say to Judd showing you the station, and you can hand out the brownies to the rest of the crew? They’re all upstairs in the kitchen and the weight room.”

Lisbeth lights up, and she tilts her head up to look at her dad. “Papi puedo?”

Carlos nods at her giving her a nudge in Judd’s direction as TK snags another piece of the brownie before handing the pan to the older fireman.

“But stay with Uncle Judd, okay?”

Lisbeth nods, taking Judd’s hand. Judd flashes them a knowing look before he and Lisbeth take the stairs up.

“These are really good,” TK says once they’re alone, taking another bite of the brownie. He sucks on his thumb to clean it from the chocolate, grinning when Carlos’ eyes darken as he tracks the action.

“That’s how you want to play this?” Carlos asks, his voice low and rough as he takes a step closer towards TK, making his heart skip at the intensity he sees on Carlos’ face. Any doubt that maybe he’s been imagining this attraction between them gone. Still, he can’t help but tease.

“How do you want to play it?” he questions with a smirk, letting out a gasp when Carlos puts both hands on his chest and pushes him back until he finds himself pressed against the side of the truck. TK gives a quick look around, thankful that for once, no one is around on the ground floor. Not that it matters when seconds later, Carlos is covering his mouth with his.

TK moans, blindly grabbing at Carlos’ broad shoulders as he licks his way into his mouth. The kiss is rough, no hesitation of a first kiss as Carlos’ takes, it’s disarming in contrast to the gentle hold Carlos has on his face, and TK is left defenseless to the contradicting actions, leaving him feeling wrecked as he surrenders to the kiss.

“I knew you’d taste sweet,” Carlos murmurs against his mouth, biting down softly on TK’s bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Brownie,” TK gasps, chasing after it.

Carlos chuckles quietly, and TK feels it more than hears as Carlos presses his body against him, holding him up at this point as TK is sure he’s gone boneless from Carlos’ kisses. “No, that’s all you.”

TK pulls Carlos into another kiss, his hand sliding down the hard plains of Carlos' chest to cup him through his pants, moaning into the kiss as he finds him hard and thick. He can already picture getting his mouth on him, and it's only the noise of his team above him that reminds him where they are, keeping him from sinking to his knees.

He pulls back to look at Carlos, making a soft needy sound when he sees how blown Carlos' eyes are, his lips shiny from their kisses. He already looks wrecked, and TK just wants to mess him up some more.

Carlos touches the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, running it over his bottom lip, and all TK can do is pant against the digit, in awe of the need, and want coursing through him for the man before him.

"Lisbeth has a sleepover tonight with her cousins," Carlos tells him, licking his lips. He closes his eyes like he can taste TK on them. "My sister is picking her up at 7."

Carlos looks at him, his gaze hot and promising, but also so sweetly hopeful, TK is filled with tenderness to go along with the lust that's making his blood pump harder.

He smiles at the man, getting one in return. "I get off at 9."

*

TK arrives at the Reyes household 15 minutes before ten. He took a quick shower at the fire station and ran out of there to the sound of his crew, teasing him for his rush. The ride over was short, but his anticipation of the night ahead made it feel forever, and when he steps up to the door, his heart is racing.

Carlos opens the door with a beautiful smile on his even more beautiful face, and all TK wants is to lick it off.

"Hi," he says breathlessly as he takes in the tight pale blue dress shirt and slacks, feeling more than a little underdressed in his yellow hoodie.

"Hi," Carlos greets him back, letting him in.

TK walks, looking around at the well lived-in home. "Lisbeth with her cousins?"

Carlos closes the door, stepping up behind him, his hands resting on TK's hips. "Yeah, she and the other little terrors should be driving my sister crazy as we speak."

TK chuckles, but it turns into a soft moan when Carlos pulls down his hood and presses his face into the crook of TK's neck, his lips touching the sensitive shell of TK's ear.

"I cooked," Carlos says softly, his breath against TK's skin makes the hairs stand up. "Tamales. Do you like them?"

"Never had them," TK answers honestly. "But I'm sure I'll love them."

He turns around in Carlos' embrace, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ neck while he pulls him closer.

"Later, though?" he questions, tilting his head an inch up to brush his mouth against Carlos'.

Carlos smiles against his mouth, his brown eyes shining with amusement and affection. He starts walking them deeper into the house towards a hallway. "Tamales are awesome as midnight food."

TK grins, surging forward to kiss him. Carlos wraps his arm around his waist, lifting him off his feet and TK gasps, wrapping his legs around Carlos' hips. He's not a small man, and yet Carlos carries him like it's nothing as he takes them into his bedroom.

TK let's out a laugh when Carlos drops him on the bed, causing him to bounce. Carlos flashes him a grin as he all but rips his shirt off. TK follows suit or tries to, cursing as he gets stuck in his stupid yellow hoodie.

He hears Carlos laugh from his hoodie prison before he feels a set of hands free him. He looks up to find Carlos looking down at him, tenderly amused.

"I'm usually better at this," TK promises as he blushes. "Much more seductive."

Carlos chuckles, he cups TK's face between his strong hands and leans down to give him a kiss that makes TK's toes curl.

"Believe me baby, you've been seducing me since the first call we were on together," Carlos tells him, giving him half a smile. "I took one look at those eyes of yours and knew I was in trouble. Haven't been able to get you out of my head since."

"I know the feeling," TK says softly, meaning it. He doesn't know much about the man before him, all he knows is that the moments he spends around him, even if it's a few seconds on an emergency is enough to lift the grey fog TK has been living in since even before he and his father left New York. Every encounter with Carlos is splashes of color, and TK craves more.

"Come here," he whispers as he lays back on the bed. Carlos follows his request and covers TK with his strong body. As Carlos finishes undressing them and touches TK precisely the way he likes, pulling moan after moan out of him, TK starts to see the bits of color, and by the time Carlos sinks into him, robbing him of breath everything is in technicolor for the first time in a long time.

*

TK wakes up warm, delightfully achy and with a strong arm thrown over his hip. He smiles, taking his time to open his eyes as he feels Carlos’ solid frame against his back, his breath warming TK’s neck as he sleeps with his face tucked into the crook of TK’s shoulder.

“Mr. Whiskers is up the tree again.”

TK opens is eyes at the soft voice, finding Lisbeth Reyes standing by his side of the bed, watching him calmly.

“Hi,” he says hesitantly, not knowing how the little girl is going to react to finding him in her father's bed.

“Hi, TK,” she greets him back. “Mr. Whiskers went up the tree, but I didn’t call 9-1-1 or my madrina this time.”

“That’s progress,” Carlos says, his words muffled against TK’s neck. He lifts his head, and TK turns his face, catching the adorably sleepy look on his face. “Morning, baby girl.”

Lisbeth smiles at her dad as she says good morning.

“I’m hungry, daddy,” she says just as TK’s own stomach grumbles, making Carlos smile.

“Seems you’re not the only one,” he teases, making Lisbeth giggle as she looks back at TK. “We have tamales from last night.”

Lisbeth’s eyes light up at the comment. “Yes! Tamales for breakfast!”

TK laughs softly at the little girl’s excitement, the weirdness of her finding him there, dissipating since it seemed he was the only one being weird about it.

“Go watch cartoons baby,” Carlos tells his daughter as he sits up, he takes a moment to rub his eyes, and TK doesn’t understand how someone can be so hot and so adorable at the same time. “We’ll get Mr. Whiskers down and heat up the tamales.”

Lisbeth nods, leaving them alone once more. In the distance, TK can hear the TV on. He watches as Carlos gets up, slipping on a pair of sweats and an Austin police t-shirt.

“She didn’t even blink to me being here,” TK questions as he sits up on the bed.

Carlos looks over at him with a small frown on his face. “I told her you would probably be here when she came home.”

TK looks up at Carlos, not sure what surprises him more, the fact that Carlos told his daughter about them or that he knew that TK would be here in the morning. “You did?”

Carlos tilts his head to the side, studying him, before coming over to sit down next to TK on the bed. He takes TK’s hand in his, lifting it to his mouth to press a small kiss to the back of it.

“I don’t hide things from my daughter,” Carlos starts with a look on his face that has TK holding his breath, his heart rate ticking up the longer Carlos watches him. “Especially the things that matter.”

“And I matter?” he can’t help but ask, hopeful.

Carlos smiles, leaning in to kiss him. “What do you think?” he whispers against TK’s mouth before giving him another kiss.

TK sighs into it, wrapping his arms around Carlos’s neck, holding him close, while Carlos’ hands go up and down TK’s back stroking him.

“Daddy! TK! Hurry up!”

TK smiles into the kiss. “I’ll get the cat, you get the food ready. You two keep bragging about these tamales, I expect them to be amazing.”

Carlos grins as he stands up. “Prepare to have your life changed forever,” Carlos promises as he leaves the room, and TK thinks as he slips into his pants and shirt – Yeah, he’s ready for that.

[awkwardtaco056]

so now that i’m no longer in the Hell that was school and after finding the lovely blog @endcringe i’ve decided to talk about my own experiences with cringe culture, bullying, and why it’s Really Bad to not let people enjoy inherently harmless things, especially neurodivergent people (read more because this is gonna get long and triggering at times, TW for mentions of bullying, suicide, child abuse, a brief mention of incest shipping. I won’t be naming any of the peers that I discuss my experiences with, because my point with this post is Not to “cancel” anyone, I just want to speak out on my experiences)

I’m neurodivergent; I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 8 years old. I didn’t know a lot about it, and a family member even painted it as “oh it’s nothing blah blah blah just apply yourself more. Because of this, I had no idea about the concept of hyperfixations until I was in my late teens. Due to that, I would obsess over random things and my family would shame me relentlessly for it. My mother said I had an “addictive personality” and that she feared I’d end up a drug addict or alcoholic because of it.

I look younger than what I am, I’m short, and small. AKA, the perfect candidate for being picked on by people bigger and stronger than me. People made fun of my art when I was around 13, but fortunately that was an instance where spite fueled me to improve drastically. However, just because I happened to take the shitty comments and have it fuel me then does NOT mean bullying people will have that effect all the time. At some point someone put my old South Park fan art on a cringe blog. I was temporarily hurt, and a little angry, but I realized that if someone was making fun of a 15 year old’s art, they probably didn’t have much going for them in life, so I moved on.

Fast forward to high school. Everything was horrible and I’m not exaggerating when I say I barely made it out alive. I was living in an abusive household up until January 2018 and I found comfort in many different interests. I’ve always found great comfort in music and the arts in general. In 2016, I drew a picture of a mermaid. I was inspired by the chocolate opal gemstone, and I thought it’d be fun to draw a gay chubby mermaid with dark skin and a rainbow tail and freckles. Junior year was lousy and I wanted something that sparked Joy. I was immediately told that “scientifically, mermaids wouldn’t look like that. Mind you, my take looked like this:

Obviously I wasn’t going for realism, I just wanted to draw a cute mermaid. However, they continued to tell me that they wouldn’t look like that, going as far as writing so on the back of said drawing. When I got angry at her for taking it too far (as I’d established before that I didn’t like it when people wrote on my art without permission), they got angry back, accusing me of being unable to take criticism. Heated by the accusation, I went as far as asking my art teacher if it was fair for them to say that, and she said no, stating that constructive criticism would be talking about how I could improve my lineart and coloring in the digital version. I took her actual helpful criticism and since then have improved Drastically in digital art. Even with that being said, I found myself hesitant to participate in things such as MerMay because I was leery of hearing that peer berate me for having cartoony mermaids. 

 During high school I grew to love many musicians, a lot of emo/alternative stuff, a couple being Twenty One Pilots and Melanie Martinez. I love how unique TOP’s style is, their open discussion of mental illness, and as someone who had a rough childhood, I connected with every single song on Cry Baby. It was like nothing I’d ever heard. I started listening to mashups featuring all these different artists I love, adoring how they could change the tone and sound so drastically. A peer Bully of mine in junior year condemned these two artists, declaring that they made “Bad Music” simply because it didn’t fit their tastes. They’d throw my drawings on the ground, write over them in pen, steal my headphones so I couldn’t listen to music, push me around, complain that mashups sucked and gave them a headache, and in general shit all over conetnt that was actively preventing me from committing suicide. 

Some family members were no better. Once high school hit, I began listening to Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, and My Chemical Romance. Their deep complex lyrics stuck with me. I would write down quotes from my favorite songs and thanks to hyperfixating, I remember each studio album in order My mother resented when I fell in love with the “Emo Trinity” because “the Columbine  shooters were emo and that event traumatized me” Despite that, not only did the Columbine tragedy occur in 1999 and none of the bands got together until the early 2000s, but I have a pretty good feeling those groups aren’t For gun violence. The other side constantly criticized the fact that I love FOB, P!ATD, and MCR because I’m black and “why must you listen to that white people music.”

 I grew fond of Dan and Phil in high school (and I’m still a fan to this day!), I loved Phil’s kindness and positive aura and I deeply connect with Dan’s sense of humor and personality. Their content made me happy during some very dark times in my life. It’s November 2017, I’m over a close peer’s house at the time, and notice PINOF is upon us. I drew the PINOF whiskers on my face, my plan being to quietly watch them in the corner of peer’s bedroom on my phone through headphones, the others were doing their own thing and I knew they didn’t like them, so I thought they’d respect it if I silently indulged in it. Unfortunately, the complete opposite happened. I was immediately shunned and locked out of the bedroom, told that I’d only be let back in if I washed the whiskers off because “absolutely not”. Me, being stubborn, washed them off temporarily but drew them back on in the room. Life during then was especially bad for me, as the abusive household I was in was getting worse. They noticed, of course, and even though all I wanted was to enjoy this small tradition in a time during a deep depression, I was immediately shoved out the room and locked out, only to have said peer’s family members notice. I’m a relatively shy person, so this was honesty a really harrowing experience that had a lasting effect on me. 

I grew to adore Sanders Sides as well, but the moment I found out most of my peers didn’t like Thomas, I was terrified.  I stopped watching Dan and Phil’s content for months and shied away from other fandoms too, only occasionally indulging in times of complete solitude. One time when said peers were due to visit my house for the first time, I saw the Phandom and Fander stuff I’d hung up on my wall in my little sanctuary that was my bedroom (it was the first time in years I’d had my own room), and I was filled with panic and fear. I took them down and hid them away, genuinely terrified of what they’d do to me if they saw. It’s still incites so much anger in me to this day because they turned around and ended up shipping incest, but somehow liking D&P and Sanders Sides was So. Much. Worse.

They were baffled by my actions, despite having humiliated me Twice by going on a private blog of mine separate from everything so that I could fully indulge and laughing at everything on there, once at a peer’s house, once right in school. I don’t think they realized how traumatizing it was to have a large group of people in public laughing at something I was deeply self conscious about for all of my life. I put on a brave face at the time, but ended up crying in the bathroom after first period began. I continued to be treated as lesser until things came to an ugly head August 2018 when I ended up in the hospital because I nearly attempted suicide. Years of child abuse, bullying, and being deemed “cringy” made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be alive, that everyone would be happier if I were gone.

After arguably one of the lowest points in my life, I cut them off and slowly began to embrace the Real Me. I started letting myself enjoy the things again, made true friends and even found love, my first boyfriend ever at 18. I still get choked up retelling it, but when PINOF 10 dropped, after he found out how much I’d been hurt over the incident in 2017, I was greeted with a photo of him with the whiskers on his face. I cried for a while, blown away at such a pure act of kindness. He listens to me ramble about my interests, he compliments my taste in music, he watched K-12 with me. 

This got incredibly long, but my point is this: Cringe Culture hurts people. You might think it’s whatever if the Thing doesn’t apply to your interests, but content you’re denouncing as cringy could be something that’s keeping them alive, that one flicker of light in a void of darkness. When I was contemplating suicide, I listened to The Black Parade, repeating Gee’s words to myself over and over, that nothing in the world was worth hurting yourself over. Some friendly joshing here and there is okay, but actively ripping someone to shreds constantly to the point where they have a mental breakdown in front of you and later on plan their own demise is disgusting. Nobody should abuse anyone for having harmless interests, no one. Unless you’re participating in p*dophilic/inc*st/s*xual assault/inherently abusive ships/content and pretending it’s not bad because “Fiction doesn’t impact reality!”, you have every right to like what you like and be happy. Read homestuck. Play Undertale. Draw up the Wildest OCs you can imagine. And stay away from people who try to rob you of innocent fun, life is too short and in this cruel, unforgiving world, you deserve to be happy, whether you’re a 13 year old who draws cute furries, a 16 year old cosplayer on TikTok, a VSCO girl, a 30 year old who writes/draws self insert art or a 20 year old who adores Invader Zim. 

Cringe Culture is just bullying under a different name, and it can lead to many instances of people, especially fellow neurodivergent folk to feel isolated and ostracized. Attempting to bully someone out of an interest they have isn’t going to fix them; it’s more often than not going to cause more damage. I suffer from diagnosed C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression, and sometimes I still find myself trying to over-justify my interests. To all who are roped up in bad homes and lousy “friends” who berate you for your innocent passions, I’m sorry you’re suffering, things will one day get better even if it doesn’t feel like it, and fuck those people. I’d also like to note that sometimes even if it seems more terrifying, it’s better to have one or two close friends you can truly trust than a whole group that walks all over you. You have every right to call them out for treating you poorly, and if things don’t improve, you also have every right to leave.

You have a right to live your True Self.

[gemtail]

If I Cannot Find You, I Will Make The World Kinder For You

There once lived an assassin and his wife. They lived a ways outside of town; close enough for some defense from grimm, but far away enough for some privacy. The wife was anything but happy. She initially married him because he promised her safety when she had no one else to turn to. He was there for her in a time of need and she thought she loved him. She needed a home and she blindly agreed to marry him only to find herself in a worse situation. He was possessive, he was greedy, and he claimed to love her despite the beatings. She put up with it hoping that maybe someday, something would change. However, the beatings and violation only got worse when he decided to make her conceive his child. She tried to take preventatives to spare a child of a world of pain and violence but, he locked her into their room and would not let her out until he was sure she had no means of preventing their child from being conceived. But, then one day, a faunus huntress came with her child in hand. The huntress fought the assassin alone until she chased him off. As a thanks, the wife decided to make some dinner but the huntress insisted on helping.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked her.

"I am a huntress. My duty is to serve the people of Remnant. I would have done this for anyone." She told her.

The woman was touched by her kindness.

"What is your name?" She asked the huntress.

"My name is Azurite Bryte. The little girl there is my daughter, River. Who might you be?" She asked her.

"My name is May Sterling." She said.

After making their introductions, River set the table and the women finished cooking dinner. They sat at the table and talked for hours until the soup was gone. After cleaning up, the girls went to sleep. But, the assassin came back the next day, demanding to see his wife again. Azurite opened the door and confronted the man once more.

"You are not welcome here after what you did to her. I will give you one more chance to leave." Azurite said.

"You let me keep what's mine and I won't have to kill you. You may have survived me once before, but that's because I let you." The man warned.

A fight broke out between the two once more. The man taunted the huntress throughout the fight, trying to get her to use her semblance but, she didn't for some reason.

"I know who you are. You don't remember?" She asked him.

He then grinned, like he had just remembered a funny memory.

"Of course I remember you! You had such a distinctive scream. It was a funny scream, especially when your voice started to tire. It started skipping like a broken record. It was hilarious. It made fucking you that much enjoyable." He sneered.

He then noticed River and he smirked.

"Aw, looks like you got something to remember me by. She's cute... too bad she's too old for me to break. Or else I wouldn't have a need to make another one." He said.

"You're sick." She spat.

"Let's see if your scream can still make me laugh." He said.

They continued to fight, seeming to be evenly matched. Azurite didn't dare to use her semblance; the moment she did, he would use his to take it. However, she managed to deplete his aura and she still had some left. She then proceeded to repetitively hit him with her semblance until he ran away. Azurite ran after him until she was sure he was far away. But, she was so worn out that she nearly collapsed. But May had followed them, desperate to make sure her savior survived the fight. Upon finding Azurite, May helped her up and brought her back to the house. As May tended to her savior's wounds, they both agreed upon one thing: they couldn't stay. Marcus was a notorious assassin whom has yet to fail his missions. The next day, the women packed up and left the house to go far away.

Azurite decided to bring May with her on her adventures as a huntress, going from town to town to help people. May always felt guilty however; she felt like she weighed Azurite down. She also felt like she was imposing on her and River. But, Azurite taught her how to fight and even taught little River how to fire a gun in this time, fearing that Marcus might be following them. May could not legally take on huntsman missions but, at least in moments of need, she and River could defend themselves. May barely could even use her aura. But despite Azurite assuring her, May still felt like she was too much trouble for someone who wonderfully helped every town and every person she came across. And she did all this while still being a good mother to River.

Little did May know that it was quite the opposite for Azurite. Having company other than her daughter around made Azurite happier; she had someone waiting with River when she came back from missions. River was also happy to have someone to keep her company while her mother was off going on missions, too. They were both so happy to have someone to count on to help and keep them both company. In time, Azurite had fallen in love with her new companion. Yet, May tried to permanently move into one of the towns so that Azurite and River could move on but they were both heartbroken. Azurite embraced May and proclaimed her love for her then and there much to the shock of her companion and her daughter. May was unsure of her feelings of her companion at the time but felt guilty for trying to leave her and so agreed to remain at her side as her companion and friend, much to Azurite and River's relief.

Soon, five months after they started their journey together, May had been noticing changes in her body. These changes had always been there about a month after they left her little house but, now the changes could no longer be shrugged off or ignored. May was filled with anguish when the doctor in the next town told her that she was pregnant. She had hoped to forget about the man who violated and beat her her. She had hoped to spend the rest of her life journeying with Azurite and River. She was at a loss but Azurite took her hand.

"It's going to be okay, May. I'll take care of all of you. We'll get through this together. I'm here for you." She promised.

May hugged her, crying harshly against her friend. They held each other for a long time after that. It was there that May started to rethink just what she thought of her friend and consider the possibility of being something more. But, she shoved those feelings aside, deciding it was better to focus on her current dilemma; her pregnancy. After a month longer on their journey, they decided to settle in Atlas, hoping that their safety would be assured in such a high tech kingdom. Azurite, however, found it difficult to find a job as a huntress since the military was supposed to handle all issues. Azurite then enlisted into the Atlas Military to gather more funds, much to May's guilt. May couldn't help but feel like she was still weighing Azurite down and destroying her dreams. Azurite used to go from town to town and help everyone who needed her but now, here she was, seeming to waste her time with her when there were more people that needed her. May felt like returning Azurite's feelings would only make things worse.

May was so scared of the day her child would be born. Would she hate him? Could she bond with him properly? Would he just look too much like Marcus? Azurite assured her that if it's all too much for her, they can just re-home the baby and continue on their journey. River wanted to help with the baby and be a big sister so much but Azurite tried to tell her that if May couldn't care for the baby, it was better for it to find a new home. May thought about giving him up so that she, River, and Azurite could continue on their journeys, instead of being stuck in Atlas where Azurite cannot help people in the ways she did as a huntress. Yet, when her son was finally born, Azurite glowed with happiness when she held him. May was going to tell the doctors to take her son so she would not see him and get attached but she did not realize Azurite would take to him the way she did. It was almost as if Azurite was his mother, too.

"May, do you want to see him? He's beautiful." Azurite said with a smile.

Nervously, May nodded. Azurite sat next to her on the bed and handed him to her gently. May looked at him, unsure of what to think. Up until that moment, she had been telling herself not to get attached to him. She cringed when she saw grey hair on his head much like his father. She shivered to think that he might have his dad's steel grey eyes. But Azurite saw something else entirely.

"I think he looks like you." she said.

"What do you mean?" May asked.

"He's got your face. Look at that little nose! Cute just like yours. And those little lips and cheeks! He's just like you." Azurite said with a fond smile.

In spite of herself, May couldn't help but cry. All this time, she just thought of him as something that was not hers. She never considered that part of herself would be in him, too. Azurite kept her arm around her. River beamed with joy when her mother helped her hold him. She sat with him in her lap and promised she would teach him so many things. The women both knew they couldn't give him up. May started to feel more deeply for Azurite. Yet, the guilt she felt for hindering her from being a proper huntress pained her to where she just couldn't return her feelings... not to her anyway. Yet, they both shared the care of her son equally. As he got older, his personality came out.

He was playful and mischievous. He knew one look from his gleaming eyes could melt May and Azurite to no end, much to River's annoyance. He always seemed to get into trouble but it was always the funny kind of trouble such as sneaking candy or an object that was put up where he couldn't get it but then getting himself stuck so that by the time Azurite and May found him, he was asking for help down. River kept her promise everyday: she always found something to teach him, be it how to quietly climb the counters without their mothers noticing, or how to swim, a pass time they both loved doing. They were each other's best friend. Azurite loved to play with him. She would wrestle and tickle him until he'd be collapsed in her lap in a fit of giggles. But May often had him in quieter moments and he would come to her for comfort every time he was hurt or sad. His eyes seemed to shine a shade of silver and his hair matched (although he didn't actually have silver eyes). Mercury Sterling, the brilliant silver child that had brought a light into their life that neither of the women had ever known until they had him.

Yet, they both felt something was missing. They both knew what it was but they were both afraid to bring it up, Azurite for fear of rejection and May for fear of being more of a hindrance. When Mercury turned four, Azurite knew that she couldn't handle being a couple with May and yet, not being a couple. It was getting too hurtful for her. Azurite could see that May was holding back. She knew she had to bring it out in the open. So Azurite waited until May put Mercury and River to bed before to finally bring it up with her.

"May, I love you." Azurite finally said.

May frowned, her heart dropping. Were they really going to do this now?

"I don't want to discuss this now." She said.

"Then when?" Azurite asked.

"I just... I do love you but I..." May hesitated.

Azurite walked up and grabbed her hand.

"But..?" She asked.

"I just, before all this, you were a huntress that went around helping people and then you met me and I've done nothing to help you. Our adventures were fun but I'm just sad that you have to be here with me when you could be out there helping people. I just feel like I'm a waste when there are things you could do for other people." She began.

"Did you ever think to ask me? I'm still helping people just as much by being in the military. But, more than that, my dream is to have a life with you. I don't care where that will lead us. You've done more for me than anyone I have ever helped. I want to be with you and raise Mercury and River together. I love both of you. You're my family." She said.

May became wordless. She started to realize what she had been doing. She had merely been assuming what Azurite's feelings were. She never thought that Azurite was here because she wanted to be. She thought Azurite was just here to help but then, if that were true, she would have no reason to be here. Azurite started crying.

"What have I been doing all this time to make you feel like a hindrance?" She cried.

May quickly put her arms around Azurite, also crying. She realized that she was wrong for assuming she wanted to be anywhere else. They could be happy together there in Atlas, watching their children grow up together.

"Nothing... Nothing at all. I just... I stupidly assumed that was how you felt. I'm sorry." She said.

Azurite pulled away from her and rested her forehead against May's, her hand on her cheek.

"You never have and never will be a hindrance. Having a life with you is my dream. Being with you is all that ever mattered to me." She said.

May smiled and leaned in to kiss her but then there was a disturbance upstairs and screaming. It was coming from Mercury and River's room. Both mothers ran up the stairs, Azurite grabbing her weapon. Mercury bolted out of the room and hid behind May and Azurite. River screamed and Azurite bolted into the room, her semblance at the ready, but for some reason, it failed. May's heart sank upon seeing it: there was only one reason she knew of that could make a semblance fail. A couple shots were fired and River ran out of the room and behind May. Azurite got tossed out of the room but she caught herself.

"Run, May! It's him!" She shouted before going back into the room.

May picked up Mercury and ran downstairs with River in tow. As they made it to the living room, a shot fired in front of them stopped them.

"You're not going anywhere!" Marcus roared before getting hit by Azurite.

Azurite had made the mistake of using her semblance on him in the room with Marcus in there. Currently, he has her semblance and is using it against her. Every time May tried to make an effort to leave, Marcus would block her somehow. He knocked May out with a blow to the head while Azurite was knocked into the kitchen. Sadly May had forgotten to activate her aura. River tried to rouse May desperately while simultaneously shielding Mercury. And then the child heard the commotion in the kitchen stop. River's breathing hitched in her throat as she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

"Hey, girlie." Marcus' voice said in a mockingly sweet tone.

River bravely stood in front of her mother and brother. Mercury hid his face against May while his other hand gripped his sister's hand tightly.

"L-leave us alone, y-you big meanie!" She stammered.

"I'm here to take what is rightfully mine and you cannot stop me, brat. Now move or else I'll take you with me, too. And I won't be nearly as nice to you as I am being now." He said with a threatening sneer.

May awoke and put her arms around both children. However, she was barely able to keep her consciousness. She was dizzy and the sides of her vision were dotted with black. She then glared, her body glowed light green with her aura. Though she never had any formal training with using her aura, she still had some idea how to use it but not enough to heal or shield herself enough at the moment... but it was enough for her semblance to activate. Plant life suddenly erupted around Marcus and took a hold of him. It shocked him and temporarily subdued him but, he still had his weapon. He shot her in the arm which was enough to disrupt her and then he used his semblance to take hers. He broke out of the plants and chuckled while May squirmed in pain from the shot. Despite how much pain she was in, held both Mercury and River against herself tightly with her uninjured arm.

"That was a close one. If you had any formal training, you might have had me. Now be a good wife and let me have my son." He said.

"You're not taking him... I won't let you." She said with a weak snarl.

"Still gonna be difficult, huh? Well I guess it can't be helped." He said, approaching, his weapon drawn.

He tried grabbing Mercury from her but she quickly wrenched her son away from him. Marcus glared and punched her repeatedly until her aura depleted. May tried to get away but Marcus used his blade to cut her arm, severing her hold on Mercury and River. May screamed loud enough to make Azurite regain consciousness but Marcus had obtained the one thing he was there for. Once he had Mercury, whom was kicking and screaming in his grip with blood covering his body, he ran away, not wanting anymore trouble from either of the women. Azurite ran after him while River tried to help her mother stop from bleeding out. May passed out from the blood loss and the slight concussion from the hit she took earlier.

By the time May awoke, she was in the hospital, Azurite crying and River asleep in a nearby chair. May's arm had been partially severed but successfully reattached in surgery. The bullet that hit her other arm also required surgery. The whole encounter permanently crippled both of May's arms and weakened them. She reached for Azurite.

"Az-urrri." She croaked, her voice sore from screaming.

Azurite ran to her and the mothers both cried together in anguish.

"I-I couldn't save him, May! He got away! I tried so hard!" She bawled.

"I couldn't protect him, either! I couldn't fight... because I'm just so weak!" May cried.

They both cried together for what seemed like forever until they choked on their own tears. River could only watch in a quiet sadness as her mothers mourned together. They then sat together silently, their tears long emptied from their eyes. Azurite offered her hand to River, noticing that she was awake. River buried her face between both of them but she didn't let herself break down. She wanted to be strong for them. The family laid together on the hospital bed in quiet mourning and thought. Azurite then made her own resolve.

"I'll get him back. I will retire from the Atlas Military and go alone if I have to! I won't stop until I find your son!" She said.

May put her hand in Azurite's.

"Our son." May corrected.

Azurite smiled sadly.

"Our son... and I won't rest until he's back in our arms." She said.

"I want to go with." River said.

"Me, too. We'll search for him together the moment I'm well." May said.

"You don't have to, May. You've been through enough. You and River can stay here. Besides, your arms need physical therapy if you're to regain proper use of them." Azurite said.

May shook her head.

"I can rehab them myself but I can't live with myself for being unable to protect him and I can't live with myself knowing that you're out there fighting and searching alone. I will learn how to fight so I can get strong, too. I will use these arms to hold all of you. And if I can't get strong enough to fight with these arms, then I will use my legs. I will get stronger for all of you. I promise." She said.

Azurite opened her mouth to protest but then she bit her lip and hugged her. If there was one thing she knew about May, it was that when she was firm in her resolve, there was no convincing her otherwise. And so, once May was well enough to leave the hospital, they left on their long search to find their lost son. They first tried searching in the kingdom of Vale where they first found each other. However, when they got to the old house, they found everything coated with dust and everything exactly the way it was when they left. It looked as if Marcus had never returned and the village never bothered to reclaim the house. So they moved on to search the whole kingdom.

In the meantime, River and May trained to get stronger together, Azurite overseeing their training. But Azurite fought with her fists and her weapon while May's arms weren't strong enough to fight with a style involving primary use of her arms. But ever so determined, May found someone who could teach her a more suitable fighting style, River learning alongside her to be proficient in other fighting styles. With every village and city they stopped at, May found someone to learn how to fight from, River occasionally learning alongside her. But, River took most of her training from her mother, Azurite.

As they went on, May started to learn more than just how to fight from each town; she started to learn about different crafts. With each new town they would visit, May would share some of her knowledge with the locals while Azurite and River would ask around about Mercury and Marcus until they had asked the whole town. It was around the time River was old enough to go to Signal academy that May started to take on a different view about her search for her son. She started to realize that their search was consuming their lives. Maybe it was for the best that they slowed down and also try to live their own lives? They were starting to get into an unhealthy life where they didn't seem to rest or take a single moment for themselves. Not to mention some of the towns they would stop in could use more help than just the few missions Azurite took to gain funds and the lessons May would share. When May gained her own huntsman license in an exam for older adults, she resolved to try helping out the towns in hopes that in exchange for her help, her kind acts would resound through the land and inspire others to do something kind for each other and maybe, just maybe, someone would show a kindness to her son because of an actions she took. Azurite, however, felt like May was giving up on their search. A rift started to form between the pair as time went on. The tension itself guilted May.

Should she be more obsessed over finding Mercury? She was worried, yes. She couldn't sleep without him crossing her mind. Especially with Marcus being the one to watch him. But, what could they do without much of any lead? Not to mention other problems and dilemmas would fall into their laps with how troubled some of these towns were. Maybe helping them would also get more helpers? May decided to try convincing Azurite. But she was met with fury.

"You want to give up?!" She asked incredulously.

"I'm not saying we should give up, I'm saying we should slow down and maybe get more helpers." May said.

"Slow down?! Slow down?! With that monster caring for him?" Azure said incredulously.

"We don't even have any leads, Azurite. And there's other people that have needed our help that we just ignored. I don't think it's right to ignore them. What if we just bypassed people who might have known something?" May asked.

"They would have slowed us down. You don't think I've checked with everyone?" She asked.

"Marcus is clever. He would have either avoided towns altogether or bribe someone to keep quiet. That's what he did with me. Maybe a little kindness could loosen a few lips?" May said.

"Yeah right. If they weren't going to talk before, what makes you think they still will? It's just wasting time. If you're getting tired of looking, you can stay here. I won't condemn you. But I'm not slowing down one bit." Azure said.

"But I don't want to leave you." May said.

"Then keep up." Azurite said.

"Azurite, if we don't slow down, it's going to drive us insane. I'm not saying we have to stop. I just don't think this is healthy anymore." May said.

"Whatever life that psycho has planned for our son is probably ten times worse. I already made my choice, May. So what's your choice?" Azurite asked.

May's heart sank upon hearing that. Yet... Yet she was sure in her ways. There was nothing wrong with what she wanted. She wanted to go about searching for him in a different way that didn't involve working themselves to the bone and barely making enough funds to get by.

"I want to help people along the way. I want to get more helpers, too. What's so wrong with that? Wasn't that what you used to do?" May asked.

"I didn't have a son in the hands of a murderer at the time. Are you saying that you're giving up?" Azurite asked condescendingly.

May grew angry.

"I'M NOT GIVING UP!" She screamed, enraged at such an accusation.

Azurite was surprised to see this coming from May. May never got angry with her at all. Seeing her like this was very hard for Azurite to witness. May took a deep breath, tears falling from her eyes.

"I just can't keep searching for him like this. I want to help people, too. I've always wanted to help people. Maybe they know something or maybe they will help in return." May said.

"And maybe they won't." Azurite said.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, either. But there is everything wrong with ignoring problems that could be fixed if we spared a little time." May said.

"And how much time do you think Mercury has?" Azurite asked.

"How can we know though? We don't." May said.

"Which is why I'm not sparing anymore. Are you traveling with me or not?" Azurite asked.

May shook but... she realized that neither method was right or wrong. Just different and it was the very wedge she knew that would pull them apart. May gulped and knew what she had to say.

"If you're unwilling to make any form of compromise then... I guess we should split up." May said.

This shocked Azurite. She was sure that May would have caved and come with her. Yet, she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. They were just splitting up, right? Covering more ground separately. Azurite walked over to her and hugged her.

"I will find our son. I promise, May." Azurite said.

May bit her lip, unable to say anything about that. They separated and May rested her forehead against hers.

"I love you." She said, kissing her.

May's lips lingered on Azurite's for awhile but she pulled away.

"I love you, too." Azurite said before leaving.

As May watched her leave, she felt the lump in her throat grow bigger and the air around her grow colder. She had a feeling that Azurite may never come back to her, much less ever find their son. She was anguished when River chose to go search with Azurite but, May knew it was for the best since River was going to learn how to become a huntress at one of the academies when she was older. At first, May stayed at the town Azurite had left her, anguished at her own lonesomeness. But then May met a little girl whom was sitting by a graveyard.

"What are you doing here, little one?" May asked her.

"I'm here to spend time with my sisters." She said.

"Sisters? I don't see anyone." May said.

"I have six sisters. Two went to Signal, two are in Haven, and two are here. All together, we are seven." She said, gesturing to a pair of graves in front of her.

"Oh." May said in a sad realization.

She stared at the graves quietly.

"But, they're dead. They're gone, honey. Why waste your time here?" May asked.

"But they're not gone. They're here." She said.

"Well, when you're dead, you're gone." May said.

"No you're not. They're still here. We are still seven." She said.

May didn't know what to make of this girl's view. In hindsight, she was not wrong. They were here, yes, but they were dead.

"You can't talk with them. You can't play with them, either." May said.

"But I talk to them all the time. That's why I'm here. And when it gets cold, I write to them and then read it out loud when I get the chance." She said with a smile.

May opened her mouth to argue but then thought better of it. This little girl wasn't having any of it from her. She was adamant that she had some sort of relationship with her sisters even though they were gone... but then this thought brightened May. Why not? Why not still live like someone is there even though they're gone? Why not move on like maybe you will see them again even if they're dead?

"One day, I'll die, too. And then I will get to play with them all I want. For now, I just talk with them. Sometimes I sing to them. Wanna sing? I'll play my whistle." She said.

Her 'whistle' was a four hole ocarina. May cringed, backing away.

"I don't sing." May said.

"Sure you can. I can sing! La la la laaaa!" The girl sang.

"I mean, I don't think I sing well." May said.

"That doesn't matter. Come on! They're listening! They'll love it no matter how bad you sing." The little girl said, gesturing to the graves.

May was hesitant but, she decided to humor the girl and sing. The little girl played an easy song that just about everyone in Remnant knew. It was a simple folk song similar to the tale of the maidens: the four sisters. Yet, as she sang it louder, May realized she loved the sound that seemed to resonate through the quiet graveyard. So she gave in and sang her heart out. When they were finished, the little girl looked up at her with a shining smile. She applauded her.

"You are a great singer!" She said with a laugh.

May smiled with a light blush dusting her cheeks. Behind them also came a round of applause. May's singing had drawn a small crowd. May became flustered and scratched her head in embarrassment. The small community had taken a liking to May since she helped them with work that a huntress could only be proficient in. They loved her and seeing her bloom in front of them like she did was wonderful for all of them to see. Other musicians in the town had also gathered and began playing music. No one asked her to sing but May did so anyway after some hesitation. Before anyone knew it, a celebration had started in the town just because they heard her singing. The little girl found May afterwards and gave her the four hole ocarina she had around her neck.

"I want you to have it." She said.

"I can't take this." May said.

"Please?" She begged.

May sighed. How could she say no?

"I'll make a deal with you. I will take it from you but only if you teach me how to play." May told her.

"Okay!" The little girl said, enthusiastically.

"What is your name, little one?" She asked her.

"I'm Melody." She said.

May chuckled. Fitting name for a little one like her.

"My name is May Sterling." She said.

May stayed in the town long enough to learn how to master the four hole ocarina with Melody. After that, she decided to move on to another town to continue her ongoing search. Melody promised to keep an eye out for Mercury in return for the time May had spent with her. In the next town over, May had exterminated a goblin grimm on the outskirts of town. A potter and her apprentice volunteered to house her while May took on more missions and small tasks. In her spare time, May learned from the potter how to mold clay and make things. From it, May made more four hole ocarinas, hoping to give one back to Melody. In the mean time of being the potter's second apprentice, she made several other crafts. May gave some of her crafts away to those whom have done small favors to her, some that needed them, and some to the potter to sell among his own wares. May then returned to the previous town with the potter in tow to give away her other wares and return an ocarina that May had made to little Melody whom promised to love it forever. May taught Melody how to make small clay ocarina's, too. Melody had made enough for all of her sisters, including the two in their graves. Inspired by May's kindness, the potter's apprentice, finally becoming a master herself, decided to travel with her with the necessary equipment in tow so to spread her craft.

The next town they went to, May helped resolve a conflict between a segregated town of people and faunus. She helped them take down grimm with a mixed force of faunus and human volunteers. After defending the town from a pack of beowolves that raided the town every night, the town agreed to a tense truce. To help loosen them up around each other, the potter taught her craft to the residents indiscriminately. May then sang in the middle of the town square with the help of a faunus musician that played the guitar. Other musicians hesitantly started playing but once again, May had brought people together in celebration with her voice. Slowly, the town began to accept each other. The faunus, whom introduced himself as Martin, offered to teach her how to play guitar in exchange for traveling with them. May told him that he didn't have to teach her and that he could just come with. But, he insisted and never one to turn down the opportunity to learn a new craft, May obliged. By the time they had left, the town was happily united. Slowly, from town to town, May's party grew in artisans and musicians. She never lost sight of who she was doing these things for though. She was doing this in hopes that she would either find her son or that maybe the world would at least be kinder for her son in her absence.

She would sing songs that were either known or songs that she had written herself in her journals that she kept. Her group traveled through the lands to share their art and music with everyone. They would teach anyone willing to learn their crafts and all the while, May would make as many people aware of her son as possible. She would do so not expecting them to continue searching for him like she would but so at least a minority of people were aware of him. In the towns that were left in ruin, May and her group would clean them up, burn the debris, bury the dead, and put a memorial in the middle of each town that would read:

In honor of the brave people that made a life for themselves away from the protection of the kingdoms. May their hope, hard work, and optimism live on forever and be remembered.

May's band of artisans would restore one big house (or whatever house was salvageable) in these ruins in hope for other huntsman and travelers could take shelter or maybe for people to come and bring these ghost towns back to life. In these houses, they would store as much info as they could have gathered about the towns. Once that was done, they would take their leave to the next town. Sometimes their group gained more people at every town and sometimes people decided to stay in one of the towns.

The biggest additions, however, had to be when they stumbled upon a small tribe of Faunus. There were only thirty-six of them after just surviving a recent grimm attack. This tribe usually avoided humans unless one of their warriors brought back one from their travels to marry. They didn't hate humans, they were just scared. But, May and her group offered to help them rebuild their village. After staying with each other for a few weeks, the tribe decided to unite with them and travel along Remnant to spread compassion and artistic expression throughout Remnant as well. After seeing that not all humans would try to discriminate against them, they too wanted to do kind acts for the world in hopes of making it kinder for the Faunus as well.

Some years later, a group of four huntsman came to the traveling group of artisans and musicians led and protected by huntress May. It was River and her team, RILL, that have recently graduated from Haven. Reunited at last, May and River embraced in pure joy. This time, River was with her mother to stay. She and her team became the defense force for the traveling tribe of artisans. But they never needed it; they were a happy group of people. They found that a happy heart, a full belly, and a compassionate community were the best grimm repellent anyone could ask for. So far, it has done nothing but prove to hold true.

While May hopes that she and River will one day find Mercury in their travels, they both had come to terms and accepted that they may never find him. They never stopped searching but they were at peace with the idea that their search may be fruitless. But, if they could make the world a better place with their tribe, then maybe it would reach him and others whom needed to be found, too. Both of them wrote in their journals as if they were talking to him and Azurite. Maybe even if they died, these journals would reach them. River always sketched in hers. She remembered Mercury always did love pictures. The real question was: would the family ever find each other? In the air, if you listened closely at night, you could hear River and May singing songs, calling out to their lost loved ones.

In the mean time, River had fallen in love with the prince of the faunus tribe they were traveling with. His name was Bramble, a deer faunus with an impressive set of horns. The old chieftain died sometime after the battle at Beacon. But, the prince did not feel he was ready for the position as chief. So, he and River decided to unite the groups in some way and, being ever so old fashioned, they decided to do so by marriage. On that day, the tribe of faunus had fully accepted humans as part of its society and they were received with open arms by everyone. But, on that night, the tribe had to have a discussion; if the prince did not feel worthy or ready for his responsibilities as the chief, who was going to take up that role? After much discussion, they asked May to take up the role provided she promised to do her best to keep the tribe happy. She agreed to it on the premise that they would still do what they have always been doing together: traveling together to spread compassion and art to the people. The tribe agreed since they had been traveling with her band of artisans for the same reasons they were traveling, too. And that's how May became the chief of one of the most giving tribes in Remnant. To this day, they continue to travel and share their kindness to the people.

A/N - I have more notes on my Fanfiction and AO3 account at the end of this writing that I don’t really feel like posting here. Feel free to give it a look. They expand on a few things about the characters. Sorry if this felt rushed. If I can improve on things, let me know. Anyway, I just wanted to write something based on a theory I had about Mercury. He truly is my favorite character to speculate on. Oh Rooster Teeth... Please redeem him. Killing him would break my heart.

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708423

[hermionelumos]

t o i l & t r o u b l e

[thesffcorner]

Honor Among Thieves

Honor Among Thieves is the first novel in a YA sci-fi duology written by Rachel Caine and Ann Aguirre. It follows Zara, a teenager who lives in the slums of futuristic New Detroit, who in spite of her criminal record, and problems with drugs, gets selected to become an Honor: a human who will go on a year long journey inside the body of a Leviathan; whale-like sentient aliens who have helped Earth come back rebuild after being on the brink of collapse. Becoming an Honor should be the greatest achievement, but for Zara it seems too good to be true; and it just might be. The way I remember being pitched this book, was a heist set in space. That is absolutely, not the case. It’s actually kind of hard to describe what it is and a big reason for that, it’s that it feels like it’s actually 2 books in one. Part I of this book is spent on Earth, and it fools you into thinking that the plot will be very different from what it actually is. When we meet Zara she is living in New Detroit as a thief, which naturally lead me to believe that this book would involve a heist. We also quickly establish that she is a drug user, that her family is dysfunctional and that her best friend/boyfriend is likewise a thief and a drug addict. Zara steals something she shouldn’t and to escape the people after her, she enrolls herself in a rehabilitation center, where she’s approached for the Honor’s mission. Now, I want you to understand, just how inconsequential and unrelated this whole first third is, to the rest of the book. First, we have a lot of set up: Zara’s backstory, the world’s history, we are introduced to a gang boss who’s apparently all-powerful and all-reaching. All of it is stuff that could be interesting, but it never gets properly explored. Firstly, though I liked the slums of the Zone in New Detroit, they were very similar to most iterations of Detroit I’ve seen/read before; a bit of Robocop, a bit of the Zone in The Big Sheep, just a very typical cyberpunk setting. Zara herself is built up to be the typical cyberpunk protagonist; she has a tragic backstory, has illegal yet useful skills like stealing and fighting, and she’s even a casual drug user. I expected that we would see her overcome her addiction, or that it would stay a permanent part of her character like Case or Takeshi Kovacs; instead once she enters the Honor program, her addiction immediately disappears, and it’s never brought up again afterwards. We likewise spend a lot of time focusing on the thing she steals and on the mafia boss who goes after her; it’s pretty much Zara’s entire motivation for going into rehab. However, this subplot is so generic, and so completely inconsequential to the rest of the novel, that I genuinely forgot it existed, until just now when I sat down to write this review. If Zara’s addiction, and how it ties with this recipe for a synthetic drug is completely irrelevant, and New Detroit is never a location we visit again, than why did we spend so much time on this subplot? There had to be a better way to get Zara off the streets; she could have been arrested, or betrayed by her crew… I just don’t get it. There is another subplot that also goes nowhere, and it’s you guessed it, tied to the plot-cul de sac of New Detroit. Zara’s father was abusive and religiously fundamentalist; this helps inform a lot of Zara’s later decisions, and some of her personality, but we again focus so firmly on the religious aspects, and yet it never comes into play afterward. Why was it necessary that her father was religious? Why was he trying to hog the microphone at the press conference? We never get an answer, and likely never will because the book isn’t about that. So what is the book about? Well, it’s mostly about aliens, loneliness and trust. Once we get to space the entire plot and tone of this book drastically shifts. At first, I had a very distinct Hunger Games vibe; the train ride to New York, the training facility, Marko’s entire character (we’ll get to it). But then, as soon as we enter space we shift to something I can only describe as… Farscape. The Leviathans are sentient beings; they are the size of spaceships, look like whales, can survive in 0G and the void of space and they feed off of sunlight. The Honors get assigned 2/Leviathan and they complete a Trial that lasts a year, after which they can chose to go to a Journey with a Leviathan from which they never return. Supposedly, it’s done for scientific and cultural exchange, but it becomes very clear early on, that something more is going on. Zara gets assigned to Nadim, along with a Brazilian girl named Beatriz. What follows is what I can only describe as a romance between Nadim, the whale/Leviathan and Zara. it was such a dramatic change of tone, pace and even genre that the first few chapters I got whiplash. However, this was the part of the book that hooked me hard, because the relationship between Nadim and Zara is so fascinating and strange, and yet so understandable and immediately engaging. I was rooting for them from the moment she got on board and I found the way the authors managed to capture both their immediate attraction to each other, as well as the slow build of their trust and fondness perfectly executed. There is a scene where the two bond completely, and it was probably the strangest, most unsettling and yet somehow engaging scene I’ve read in awhile; I almost still can’t believe this is a YA book. Nothing is explicit, don’t get me wrong; Nadim and Zara have an entirely spiritual connection, but the way it’s written and just the sheer oddity of a love story between a girl and an alien ship was so not the thing I was expecting with that start of this novel. I almost wonder if one author wrote the beginning of the book, and another the rest; they are so distinctly and jarringly different that I’m genuinely wondering if I switched to a different book mid-reading. If it weren’t for the first chapter where we are introduced to Nadim, I could have sworn these were meant to be two separate stories. The last third of the book is a lot more action packed, and we find out more about the world, the reason for the Journey and the Leviathan’s arrival and what is actually happening. There were a few scenes that were difficult to read, mostly pertaining to physical abuse, which is strange to say since the abuse isn’t human. But it was still written very well and rather graphically and it was hard to read, I found the ending very interesting and I’m sad I don’t have access to the second book immediately, because I want to know what happens next. Briefly, I’ll go over the characters. I don’t have much to say about Chao-Xing and Marko; they were very minor supporting characters, though I expected Marko to play a bigger role than he did, especially since he’s so prominent at the start. The fact that he was Serbian was a weird shock to me; I don’t think I’ve ever read about a character that’s so close to my nationality before (though like most of these sci-fi books, ethnicity and race are oftentimes incidental and don’t actually inform the characters at all). There was also one part that made me cringe into oblivion, where he’s described as having a “Slavic point to his chin”. WTF does that even mean?? Beatriz was a fine character; she’s the more toned down, bookish type to serve as a foil to Zara. I liked that she had a bond with Nahim that was different from Zara’s but she still cared about the Leviathan. Her being musically inclined was also fun, but she just didn’t have a strong enough personality to grasp on. Nahim was surprisingly, in spite of being an alien, the more interesting character. I absolutely loved the way the authors wrote him as both this foreign, non-human entity, while also experiencing a lot of the same emotions like jealousy, humor, fear and even pride. He was a very trusting character, and his push and pull with Zara was really engrossing. There were many points in the book where I felt like Zara did; that if anything happened to him I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Zara was a very typical YA protagonist; she’s spirited, she’s angry, she’s dissatisfied, afraid of being stuck or being controlled, afraid of trusting people and getting hurt and pushing the ones who care about her away. There was a lot of Katniss in her; she has a lot more of a mouth than Katniss, and I liked her quips a lot of the time. She actually reminded me of Takeshi Kovacs more than once throughout the book, which was probably all the bravado hiding pain and insecurity. She was also a black character, and that’s made clear with several descriptions of her skin and her hair. I appreciated this; I feel like I don’t mention that often enough in my reviews, because I don’t feel equipped on judging what representation is good representation, but I overall found Zara to be a well rounded and motivated character. I rooted for her, I wanted her to make it, and I really appreciated that she always stayed suspicious and never backed down from learning the truth. Overall, it was a book that surprised me more than once. It’s not perfect, but I enjoyed it immensely; it would be a full 4 star if the beginning hadn’t been that disjointed from the rest. As it stands I can’t wait to read the sequel; I think this was one of the best executed relationship developments I’ve ever read and I’m really glad I picked it up. If you like aliens, you’ll probably like this too.

[readbookywooks]

A Laceration in the Cottage

HE certainly was really grieved in a way he had seldom been before. He had rushed in like a fool, and meddled in what? In a love-affair. "But what do I know about it? What can I tell about such things?" he repeated to himself for the hundredth time, flushing crimson. "Oh, being ashamed would be nothing; shame is only the punishment I deserve. The trouble is I shall certainly have caused more unhappiness.... And Father Zossima sent me to reconcile and bring them together. Is this the way to bring them together?" Then he suddenly remembered how he had tried to join their hands, and he felt fearfully ashamed again. "Though I acted quite sincerely, I must be more sensible in the future," he concluded suddenly, and did not even smile at his conclusion. Katerina Ivanovna's commission took him to Lake Street, and his brother Dmitri lived close by, in a turning out of Lake Street. Alyosha decided to go to him in any case before going to the captain, though he had a presentiment that he would not find his brother. He suspected that he would intentionally keep out of his way now, but he must find him anyhow. Time was passing: the thought of his dying elder had not left Alyosha for one minute from the time he set off from the monastery. There was one point which interested him particularly about Katerina Ivanovna's commission; when she had mentioned the captain's son, the little schoolboy who had run beside his father crying, the idea had at once struck Alyosha that this must be the schoolboy who had bitten his finger when he, Alyosha, asked him what he had done to hurt him. Now Alyosha felt practically certain of this, though he could not have said why. Thinking of another subject was a relief, and he resolved to think no more about the "mischief" he had done, and not to torture himself with remorse, but to do what he had to do, let come what would. At that thought he was completely comforted. Turning to the street where Dmitri lodged, he felt hungry, and taking out of his pocket the roll he had brought from his father's, he ate it. It made him feel stronger. Dmitri was not at home. The people of the house, an old cabinet-maker, his son, and his old wife, looked with positive suspicion at Alyosha. "He hasn't slept here for the last three nights. Maybe he has gone away," the old man said in answer to Alyosha's persistent inquiries. Alyosha saw that he was answering in accordance with instructions. When he asked whether he were not at Grushenka's or in hiding at Foma's (Alyosha spoke so freely on purpose), all three looked at him in alarm. "They are fond of him, they are doing their best for him," thought Alyosha. "That's good." At last he found the house in Lake Street. It was a decrepit little house, sunk on one side, with three windows looking into the street, and with a muddy yard, in the middle of which stood a solitary cow. He crossed the yard and found the door opening into the passage. On the left of the passage lived the old woman of the house with her old daughter. Both seemed to be deaf. In answer to his repeated inquiry for the captain, one of them at last understood that he was asking for their lodgers, and pointed to a door across the passage. The captain's lodging turned out to be a simple cottage room. Alyosha had his hand on the iron latch to open the door, when he was struck by the strange hush within. Yet he knew from Katerina Ivanovna's words that the man had a family. "Either they are all asleep or perhaps they have heard me coming and are waiting for me to open the door. I'd better knock first," and he knocked. An answer came, but not at once, after an interval of perhaps ten seconds. "Who's there?" shouted someone in a loud and very angry voice. Then Alyosha opened the door and crossed the threshold. He found himself in a regular peasant's room. Though it was large, it was cumbered up with domestic belongings of all sorts, and there were several people in it. On the left was a large Russian stove. From the stove to the window on the left was a string running across the room, and on it there were rags hanging. There was a bedstead against the wall on each side, right and left, covered with knitted quilts. On the one on the left was a pyramid of four print-covered pillows, each smaller than the one beneath. On the other there was only one very small pillow. The opposite corner was screened off by a curtain or a sheet hung on a string. Behind this curtain could be seen a bed made up on a bench and a chair. The rough square table of plain wood had been moved into the middle window. The three windows, which consisted each of four tiny greenish mildewy panes, gave little light, and were close shut, so that the room was not very light and rather stuffy. On the table was a frying pan with the remains of some fried eggs, a half-eaten piece of bread, and a small bottle with a few drops of vodka. A woman of genteel appearance, wearing a cotton gown, was sitting on a chair by the bed on the left. Her face was thin and yellow, and her sunken cheeks betrayed at the first glance that she was ill. But what struck Alyosha most was the expression in the poor woman's eyes - a look of surprised inquiry and yet of haughty pride. And while he was talking to her husband, her big brown eyes moved from one speaker to the other with the same haughty and questioning expression. Beside her at the window stood a young girl, rather plain, with scanty reddish hair, poorly but very neatly dressed. She looked disdainfully at Alyosha as he came in. Beside the other bed was sitting another female figure. She was a very sad sight, a young girl of about twenty, but hunchback and crippled "with withered legs," as Alyosha was told afterwards. Her crutches stood in the corner close by. The strikingly beautiful and gentle eyes of this poor girl looked with mild serenity at Alyosha. A man of forty-five was sitting at the table, finishing the fried eggs. He was spare, small, and weakly built. He had reddish hair and a scanty light-coloured beard, very much like a wisp of tow (this comparison and the phrase "a wisp of tow" flashed at once into Alyosha's mind for some reason, he remembered it afterwards). It was obviously this gentleman who had shouted to him, as there was no other man in the room. But when Alyosha went in, he leapt up from the bench on which he was sitting, and, hastily wiping his mouth with a ragged napkin, darted up to Alyosha. "It's a monk come to beg for the monastery. A nice place to come to!" the girl standing in the left corner said aloud. The man spun round instantly towards her and answered her in an excited and breaking voice: "No, Varvara, you are wrong. Allow me to ask," he turned again to Alyosha, "what has brought you to our retreat?" Alyosha looked attentively at him. It was the first time he had seen him. There was something angular, flurried and irritable about him. Though he had obviously just been drinking, he was not drunk. There was extraordinary impudence in his expression, and yet, strange to say, at the same time there was fear. He looked like a man who had long been kept in subjection and had submitted to it, and now had suddenly turned and was trying to assert himself. Or, better still, like a man who wants dreadfully to hit you but is horribly afraid you will hit him. In his words and in the intonation of his shrill voice there was a sort of crazy humour, at times spiteful and at times cringing, and continually shifting from one tone to another. The question about "our retreat" he had asked, as it were, quivering all over, rolling his eyes, and skipping up so close to Alyosha that he instinctively drew back a step. He was dressed in a very shabby dark cotton coat, patched and spotted. He wore checked trousers of an extremely light colour, long out of fashion, and of very thin material. They were so crumpled and so short that he looked as though he had grown out of them like a boy. "I am Alexey Karamazov," Alyosha began in reply. "I quite understand that, sir," the gentleman snapped out at once to assure him that he knew who he was already. "I am Captain Snegiryov, sir, but I am still desirous to know precisely what has led you - " "Oh, I've come for nothing special. I wanted to have a word with you -if only you allow me." "In that case, here is a chair, sir; kindly be seated. That's what they used to say in the old comedies, 'kindly be seated,'" and with a rapid gesture he seized an empty chair (it was a rough wooden chair, not upholstered) and set it for him almost in the middle of the room; then, taking another similar chair for himself, he sat down facing Alyosha, so close to him that their knees almost touched. "Nikolay Ilyitch Snegiryov, sir, formerly a captain in the Russian infantry, put to shame for his vices, but still a captain. Though I might not be one now for the way I talk; for the last half of my life I've learnt to say 'sir.' It's a word you use when you've come down in the world." "That's very true," smiled Alyosha. "But is it used involuntarily or on purpose?" "As God's above, it's involuntary, and I usen't to use it! I didn't use the word 'sir' all my life, but as soon as I sank into low water I began to say 'sir.' It's the work of a higher power. I see you are interested in contemporary questions, but how can I have excited your curiosity, living as I do in surroundings impossible for the exercise of hospitality?" "I've come - about that business." "About what business?" the captain interrupted impatiently. "About your meeting with my brother Dmitri Fyodorovitch," Alyosha blurted out awkwardly. "What meeting, sir? You don't mean that meeting? About my 'wisp of tow,' then?" He moved closer so that his knees positively knocked against Alyosha. His lips were strangely compressed like a thread. "What wisp of tow?" muttered Alyosha. "He is come to complain of me, father!" cried a voice familiar to Alyosha - the voice of the schoolboy - from behind the curtain. "I bit his finger just now." The curtain was pulled, and Alyosha saw his assailant lying on a little bed made up on the bench and the chair in the corner under the ikons. The boy lay covered by his coat and an old wadded quilt. He was evidently unwell, and, judging by his glittering eyes, he was in a fever. He looked at Alyosha without fear, as though he felt he was at home and could not be touched. "What! Did he bite your finger?" The captain jumped up from his chair. "Was it your finger he bit?" "Yes. He was throwing stones with other schoolboys. There were six of them against him alone. I went up to him, and he threw a stone at me and then another at my head. I asked him what I had done to him. And then he rushed at me and bit my finger badly, I don't know why." "I'll thrash him, sir, at once - this minute!" The captain jumped up from his seat. "But I am not complaining at all, I am simply telling you.... I don't want him to be thrashed. Besides, he seems to be ill." "And do you suppose I'd thrash him? That I'd take my Ilusha and thrash him before you for your satisfaction? Would you like it done at once, sir?" said the captain, suddenly turning to Alyosha, as though he were going to attack him. "I am sorry about your finger, sir; but instead of thrashing Ilusha, would you like me to chop off my four fingers with this knife here before your eyes to satisfy your just wrath? I should think four fingers would be enough to satisfy your thirst for vengeance. You won't ask for the fifth one too?" He stopped short with a catch in his throat. Every feature in his face was twitching and working; he looked extremely defiant. He was in a sort of frenzy. "I think I understand it all now," said Alyosha gently and sorrowfully, still keeping his seat. "So your boy is a good boy, he loves his father, and he attacked me as the brother of your assailant.... Now I understand it," he repeated thoughtfully. "But my brother Dmitri Fyodorovitch regrets his action, I know that, and if only it is possible for him to come to you, or better still, to meet you in that same place, he will ask your forgiveness before everyone - if you wish it." "After pulling out my beard, you mean, he will ask my forgiveness? And he thinks that will be a satisfactory finish, doesn't he?" "Oh, no! On the contrary, he will do anything you like and in any way you like." "So if I were to ask his highness to go down on his knees before me in that very tavern - 'The Metropolis' it's called - or in the marketplace, he would do it?" "Yes, he would even go down on his knees." "You've pierced me to the heart, sir. Touched me to tears and pierced me to the heart! I am only too sensible of your brother's generosity. Allow me to introduce my family, my two daughters and my son - my litter. If I die, who will care for them, and while I live who but they will care for a wretch like me? That's a great thing the Lord has ordained for every man of my sort, sir. For there must be someone able to love even a man like me." "Ah, that's perfectly true!" exclaimed Alyosha. "Oh, do leave off playing the fool! Some idiot comes in, and you put us to shame!" cried the girl by the window, suddenly turning to her father with a disdainful and contemptuous air. "Wait a little, Varvara!" cried her father, speaking peremptorily but looking at them quite approvingly. "That's her character," he said, addressing Alyosha again. "And in all nature there was naught That could find favour in his eyes- or rather in the feminine - that could find favour in her eyes - . But now let me present you to my wife, Arina Petrovna. She is crippled, she is forty-three; she can move, but very little. She is of humble origin. Arina Petrovna, compose your countenance. This is Alexey Fyodorovitch Karamazov. Get up, Alexey Fyodorovitch." He took him by the hand and with unexpected force pulled him up. "You must stand up to be introduced to a lady. It's not the Karamazov, mamma, who... h'm... etcetera, but his brother, radiant with modest virtues. Come, Arina Petrovna, come, mamma, first your hand to be kissed." And he kissed his wife's hand respectfully and even tenderly. The girl at the window turned her back indignantly on the scene; an expression of extraordinary cordiality came over the haughtily inquiring face of the woman. "Good morning! Sit down, Mr. Tchernomazov," she said. "Karamazov, mamma, Karamazov. We are of humble origin," he whispered again. "Well, Karamazov, or whatever it is, but I always think of Tchermomazov.... Sit down. Why has he pulled you up? He calls me crippled, but I am not, only my legs are swollen like barrels, and I am shrivelled up myself. Once I used to be so fat, but now it's as though I had swallowed a needle." "We are of humble origin," the captain muttered again. "Oh, father, father!" the hunchback girl, who had till then been silent on her chair, said suddenly, and she hid her eyes in her handkerchief. "Buffoon!" blurted out the girl at the window. "Have you heard our news?" said the mother, pointing at her daughters. "It's like clouds coming over; the clouds pass and we have music again. When we were with the army, we used to have many such guests. I don't mean to make any comparisons; everyone to their taste. The deacon's wife used to come then and say, 'Alexandr Alexandrovitch is a man of the noblest heart, but Nastasya Petrovna,' she would say, 'is of the brood of hell.' 'Well,' I said, 'that's a matter of taste; but you are a little spitfire.' 'And you want keeping in your place;' says she. 'You black sword,' said I, 'who asked you to teach me?' 'But my breath,' says she, 'is clean, and yours is unclean.' 'You ask all the officers whether my breath is unclean.' And ever since then I had it in my mind. Not long ago I was sitting here as I am now, when I saw that very general come in who came here for Easter, and I asked him: 'Your Excellency,' said I, 'can a lady's breath be unpleasant?' 'Yes,' he answered; 'you ought to open a window-pane or open the door, for the air is not fresh here.' And they all go on like that! And what is my breath to them? The dead smell worse still!. 'I won't spoil the air,' said I, 'I'll order some slippers and go away.' My darlings, don't blame your own mother! Nikolay Ilyitch, how is it I can't please you? There's only Ilusha who comes home from school and loves me. Yesterday he brought me an apple. Forgive your own mother - forgive a poor lonely creature! Why has my breath become unpleasant to you?" And the poor mad woman broke into sobs, and tears streamed down her cheeks. The captain rushed up to her. "Mamma, mamma, my dear, give over! You are not lonely. Everyone loves you, everyone adores you." He began kissing both her hands again and tenderly stroking her face; taking the dinner-napkin, he began wiping away her tears. Alyosha fancied that he too had tears in his eyes. "There, you see, you hear?" he turned with a sort of fury to Alyosha, pointing to the poor imbecile. "I see and hear," muttered Alyosha. "Father, father, how can you - with him! Let him alone!" cried the boy, sitting up in his bed and gazing at his father with glowing eyes. "Do give over fooling, showing off your silly antics which never lead to anything! shouted Varvara, stamping her foot with passion. "Your anger is quite just this time, Varvara, and I'll make haste to satisfy you. Come, put on your cap, Alexey Fyodorovitch, and I'll put on mine. We will go out. I have a word to say to you in earnest, but not within these walls. This girl sitting here is my daughter Nina; I forgot to introduce her to you. She is a heavenly angel incarnate... who has flown down to us mortals,... if you can understand." "There he is shaking all over, as though he is in convulsions!" Varvara went on indignantly. "And she there stamping her foot at me and calling me a fool just now, she is a heavenly angel incarnate too, and she has good reason to call me so. Come along, Alexey Fyodorovitch, we must make an end." And, snatching Alyosha's hand, he drew him out of the room into the street.