#but only really had my own music taste to supplement that

[various-feelings]

☆~☆

[notyetneedcoffee]

Can't Wait

Kinktober - Thigh Riding NSFW - Adults Only

Summary: Steve is not ready to leave the party

The late-night party-goers in Stark’s penthouse fell into either loud groups around the bar or a knot of bodies on the dancefloor.  Music thrummed through the room, obscuring conversations. Lights behind the bar were supplemented by the glow of the city skyline.

One man stuck to the shadows, sitting in a chair away from the bar but with a perfect view of the dance floor. You danced but kept stealing glances to the corner. His face was cloaked in darkness, but you could see his long legs, spread wide. Occasionally, his hands would stroke across the silky texture of his slacks. His hands sliding along his own powerful thighs brought the most indecent thoughts to mind.

You made your way to stand in between those legs. A light sheen of sweat covered your skin from dancing and your head spun just a bit from several martinis. Bending over to run your hands along his thighs, just as he had, you smiled. “Why you sitting all alone, Cap?”

“I promised someone I would stay for the whole party, but I’m not really in the mood for the bar.” Steve’s eyes moved from your eyes, to your mouth, and lingered on the sight down the front of your flowy party dress.

Grinning, you swayed your hips to the music. “You could just go, now. With me.”

Steve bit his lip, eyes laughing. He shook his head. “A promise is a promise.”

He turned more into the darkness and pushed a little table further away with his foot. Further in the darkness, another chair was beside his. “But I could use the company. Why don’t you take a seat?”

You stepped over one leg, but did not move to the chair. Instead, you straddled his thigh and ran your fingers through his blond hair. The heat of his body radiated through his slacks, through the whisp of lace, to warm your core. “How about here?”

His large hands slid along your waist, down to the curve of your ass. Your lips brushed lightly over his, barely a touch. Steve’s tongue wet your lower lip. You pulled him closer by his hair and kissed him. He tasted of whiskey and smelled of something woodsy.

You rocked against his thigh as the heat began to pool between your legs. Steve’s fingers dug into your backside. Touching his shoulders, wide and strong, you ached to feel the bare flesh under the soft shirt. Moving your lips to taste his jaw. Your teeth grazed his neck and he pushed you against his thigh with more pressure.

“Mmm.” You nipped at his ear. “Please, can we go?”

He chuckled, the sound low and sexy. “I promised you I would stay for the whole party this time. So we stay.”

“But Steve,” Your head fell to one side as his mouth painted a wet trail along your neck. It sent heat flowing to your core. “We can forget about that. I won’t complain anymore.”

“No,” His teeth grazed your skin. “You’re just going to have to wait until the party is over.”

Rocking on his thigh, you could feel the wetness pool between your legs. “But.”

“No.” Steve said, this time more commanding. It made you want to roll over and let him do anything he wanted to you. “You can wait.”

“I can’t wait.” You whined.

He kissed you again, his large hand moving you back and forth. “Mmm,” Steve grin against your lips. “Does my Dollface want to come all over my thigh?”

You nodded, arching your back and feeling the graze against your sensitive clitoris. Reaching back you tried to move one his hand to the bottom of your dress. The flimsy fabric already rode up to the tops of your thighs.

He chuckled low and teasing. “Nope, all hands above the clothes.” He cupped your breast and pinched your nipple through your dress. “We’re in public.”

A small whine escaped your throat as he pinched the other nipple. You rocked a little faster. Your panties shifted, causing the seam to run along your swollen nub. Abrasive and yet enticing. You breath came in shallow pants.

Wet and desperate for attention. You felt your cunt clench. Stopped you from reaching under your skirt, capturing your wrist in his big hand. You plead and kissed at his lips, his neck. You needed release.

“Damn you’re gorgeous when you’re all needy.” Steve growled in your ear. “I bet if I told you to, you would strip off this pretty little number and ride my cock right here in front of everyone.”

A fire flared down your body. Your chest felt hot. Wetness pooled between your legs. You bared down harder, riding Steve’s thigh in a desperate chase for release.

“Fuck,” Steve squeezed with your tit with his free hand, pinching and handling you almost brutally. “My leg is soaking. Look at you. Sexy as hell. You want to come, baby?”

You whined, nodding desperately.

His large hand grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you close for a rough kiss full of battling tongues and teeth. You felt his hand on the hot flesh of your thigh. His thumb slipped between your sensitive labia, picking up your wetness. He circled your clit with strong pressure. Your body jerked, moving against him hard.

Your thighs shook. Everything else in the world dropped away. Your fingers clenched in his clothes. The tension coiled tightly in your belly.

“That’s it.” Steve’s voice rumbled in your ear. “Come for me. Right here. Then I’ll bury me cock in you, fuck you, until you can’t move.”

Biting back a cry, clung to him. Your orgasm crashed over you, making you shake. Steve held you tight, mouth kissing along your neck.

“Come on, Dollface. I think Tony’s party is over.” Steve picked you up. He took a few steps into the darkness and pushed open a service door. “We have a party of our own to start.”

Want more? Check out my Master List.

[prof-ramses]

Here’s one last round of headcanons & ideas I want to share before the grind of my classes really sets in:

Back when they were still a circus troupe, Asmodeus and Mammon had a stand up act wherein they would respectively take the role of the straight man and wise guy. Ozzie eventually grew sick of being the punchline to all of the act’s jokes and he eventually quit. This would be the start of Ozzie’s resentment towards Mam. Mammon for his part sort of had a Jack Fenton like fondness for Ozzie that made him oblivious to the patter’s growing disdain, at least until the events of the mid season finale caused them to come to the surface.

Prior to falling, Bee was a completely insectile angel. After getting exiled from Heaven and becoming a demon, adjusting to the fact she only retained a handful of her original buggy features was a major hurdle for her to overcome, with the creation of the Hellhounds being a major step in her coming to terms with her new body.

You mentioned Levi potentially undermining the others as part of him being the embodiment of Envy, and it got me thinking that this isn’t a behavior exclusive to him (granted, he’s probably the most active when it comes to tripping up the others). The Sins and what they embody don’t always gel well with one another, so, whether it be intentional or not, they tend to sabotage one another just as often as they manage to work together.

While the entirety of Sloth is basically Belphagor’s personal Petri dish, I doubt she’d stop at experimenting on her own subjects. I think she’d probably find a subtle way to broaden her test groups without upsetting the other Sins. Namely, by marketing experimental (and highly sketchy) pharmaceuticals to some of the other Rings. Like, anabolic steroids for Wrath, dietary supplements for Gluttony, “performance enhancers” for Lust, etc.

For some reason I can’t explain, my mental image of your interpretation of Baphomet looks like goat headed version of this guy:

Also, working off of your idea that Mammon used to perform opera, I think it would be neat if either Camio or Furfur were fans of/familiar with his older musical works.

I also like to think Mam’s opera career was his way of proving he wasn’t just a comedic clown, but also a dramatic clown. The mixed reception his operatic works received also could have contributed to his distaste towards performing.

Building on my idea of Lucifer going through a tyrannical phase, I feel he’d try his hardest to keep Charlie in the dark about that chapter of his life out of fear it would drive her away.

I also had the idea of Leviathan’s having a small inner circle of demons that resemble remoras he works with that are basically just a bunch of yes men trying to coast on their boss’s success and status.

My personal theory for the Ars Goetia’s origin in the Hellaverse is that founding members were angels that sympathized or identified with Lucifer and the others, and were consequently exiled to prevent further dissension in the ranks.

You cannot convince me that Mammon and Mimzy have not met at least once. With Mimzy’s ego, she’s probably convinced herself that she and Mam are as thick as thieves. Mammon, for his part, finds her overbearing and grating to be around, but lets her live her little fantasy as it makes her easier to con out of her money. As an aside, I like to think the Loan Sharks she was indebted to in Dad Beat Dad were on his payroll.

I don’t know why, but I kinda picture Satan as having glassblowing and possibly smithing as a hobby, with his personal dwellings have a lot of his work either on display or directly incorporated into the structure. All of it is done with his own barehands too.

I’m rather fond of the idea that Octavia got her taste in music from Stella (one of the few less refined indulgences she could manage growing), with the two bonding over their shared interest after leaving Stolas.

Since Mammon undoubtedly has strong ties with the crime families that inhabit his ring, I think it would be funny if at one point when Charlie was little there was a bit of a schedule overlap, wherein he has to babysit her at the same time he had a meeting with a mob boss. Shenanigans naturally ensued, which eventually led to a moment like this:

That’s all I’ve got for now. Hope you enjoy them.

I really like you idea for the Sins having more than 1 act tied to them. I love exploring Ozzie and Mam's dynamic, I especially like the idea of Asmodeus developing gradual resentment for Mammon, while he latter just sees him as an occasionally annoying younger brother. There's also the added irony that Inside no.9 has an episode about a failed comedy duo reuniting.

Ohh, Bee only getting canine traits after the fall is such a great idea! We could do a lot with this idea.

See, get what you mean and I agree, the Sins being a chaotic found family kind of comes with that. The point I was specifically trying to make it that Leviathan would probably be the only one to do it both intentionally and on the regular. Hope this clears things up.

Another great idea. I think Bel also forbids Bee from taking her party drugs is because the stash is always full of untested concoctions and she uses reverse psychology to make Bee take as much as she can for the parties so she can take stock of what was taken and track the side effects when they show up (because they always do) by comparing samples from patients to the testing samples she kept.

Yep, that's hitting the nail, but I must say, my favorite Baphomet idea is easily your concept of his Hawaiian shirt having medical patterns on it.

YEAH! Mam's older works still have plenty of fans. He tries not to show it, but he's always really happy to see his older projects being enjoyed and respected.

Yeah, he's a great creative, but his performances don't always stick the landing.

Absolutely, Luci would do literally anything to keep this from Charlie, he'll avoid the topic around the other Sins like the plague.

Levi's assistants being literal parasites like him is great, maybe he has cleaners who look lie deep sea prawns, too.

I really like the concept of the original Goetia being "lesser" rebels. Nothing more to say, really. Just a really solid idea.

Mimzy is one of Mammon's more recent disaster patsies, he keeps her around not just because she's easy to talk into pretty much anything, but because she's genuinely loyal to him, and most importantly, when he wants to test new loan sharks, he sees if they can survive tracking her down, they never catch her, she's too unpredictable for that, but making it out of chasing that walking disaster alive is an impressive feet for an average hellborn in it's own right.

Interesting, I had this ide of him having a thing for reenactments, since they're another great reason for fights and destruction.

This is so wholesome! I can picture a scene of Stella listening to something with earbuds and when she takes them out because Octavia wants to ask her something, Via is so surprised that she forgets what she was going to ask and they just end up talking about music.

Oh, that's amazing. This has a whole fic worth of potential, I can just imagine Charlie accidentally doing something that gets the most important gangster at the meeting killed and Mam, now with the big issue out of the way, just barks some quick orders to the ones who are left and they wordlessly shuffle out the door, making sure to avoid Charlie in the process. Of course, this would all happen when Charlie's too young to remember and Mammon wants to keep it that way, he knows she wouldn't be proud of it

Great ideas, all around, as always!

[art-of-manliness]

Odds & Ends: January 20, 2023

The Struggle to Be Interesting is Real. A cultural anthropologist explores how “expressive individualism” has only intensified in the past few decades. We’re all just trying to be interesting and that often takes a lot of time and money. “And so, being interesting is all about being able to narrate some aspect of our existence as distinctive, elevated, and more thoughtful than (almost) everyone else in our weak social network (office, extended family on Thanksgiving, casual friends).”  Vintage Blast Pre-Workout. This has been my and Kate’s go-to pre-workout for years now. Offers a solid, sustained, non-jittery energy boost. Sugar-free and all natural, it doesn’t have the cloying, artificial taste of most pre-workout supplements. I think Blueberry Lemonade is the best flavor. A little of my allegiance may also be due to the fact that I kind of look like the guy on the package. Issawi’s Laws of Social Motion. I don’t remember how I came into possession of this obscure book from the 1970s written by a historian and economist specializing in the Middle East. It’s full of pithy insights about life, money, and geopolitics, like: “One is tempted to say ‘We don’t know’ when one really should be saying ‘I don’t know.'” “When we call others dogmatic, what we really object to is their holding dogmas that are different from our own.” “Problems increase in geometric ratio, solutions in arithmetic ratio.” It’s a good, high-brow toilet book. Copies are hard to find on Amazon. Maybe I’ll put together a post of my favorites so more people can see them. Imploding the Mirage. The Killers are my favorite band and 2020’s Imploding the Mirage is my favorite album. I still haven’t gotten tired of it. Great for working out or for long road trips through the desert. All the songs are great, but here are my absolute favorites: “Lightning Fields,” “Dying Breed,” “Fire in Bone.” Quote of the Week: Every man is a divinity in disguise, a god playing the fool. It seems as if heaven had sent its insane angels into our world as to an asylum. And here they will break out into their native music, and utter at intervals the words they have heard in heaven; then the mad fit returns, and they mope and wallow like dogs! —Ralph Waldo Emerson The post Odds & Ends: January 20, 2023 appeared first on The Art of Manliness. http://dlvr.it/ShBn6v

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

[happytroopers]

Origin Day // platonic 501st! Reader

Tw: alcohol use

It’s my 21st birthday and I want to go clubbing with the 501st

“Wait, isn’t twenty-one like a big deal for civvies?” Fives asked, watching you wrench a bolt tighter on the sliding door of a gunship in the large hangar of the Coruscant GAR barracks. Most clone troopers genuinely didn’t understand the sensationalized idea of birthdays (or as most people in the galaxy called them: Origin Days). The closest they had was when they were let out of the growth chambers. You shrugged, giving the wrench one last pull before wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“On some planets.” You hummed, “For some species. Depends on when the government deems your species old enough to drink alcohol.”

“So you can enlist in the military, but can’t go for a drink.” Echo asked, eye brows furrowing while Fives muttered something about that being bullshit.

You gave the gunship one last appraisal before deciding you had done all you could do. If they wanted those dents out, high command would have to sanction heavy equipment. Finally, you looked back to the Arc trooper duo.

“Which is why you’ve never seen me in 79’s.”

“Civie laws make no sense.” Fives stated bluntly, kicking himself off the crate he’d be lounging on. “So are you doing anything?”

“Well, my childhood friends live on a different planet, and my academy friends are all deployed at the moment.” You voice was strained as you stretched your arms over your head, “Aside from getting those AT-RT’s back in working order? Not unless you two have any brilliant ideas.”

Over your head, the two Arc troopers shared a look. They did in fact have an idea-though ‘brilliant’ was a little bit generous.

_______

“Don’t you two have an early call time tomorrow?” You yelled over the thumping music, subconsciously tugging at your outfit (you had forgotten how exposing civvie clothes felt compared to your military uniforms).

79’s was busier than usual according to Echo who was walking in front of you to part the crowd. Fives was behind you, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Fives answered with a smile in his voice. In front of you Echo nodded.

“We’ll manage.” He paused, pulling you in front of him and pointing to a back corner, “Besides, I doubt it’ll be that much of a problem.”

You eyes followed his finger to find an unexpected sight. Half of the 501st was gathered around a corner booth, even Captain Rex who rarely ever ventured to the club scene.

Fives and Echo watched your expression carefully, relieved when you broke into a laugh and your hands flew to your mouth.

“It’s not much but-“ Echo started in with something cheesy, but you cut him off, taking both his and Fives hands as you pulled them towards the corner.

“It’s perfect.” You promised. And it was. For some the party had already started: Hardcase and Jesse were clutching long necked bottles while they teased Tup. Kix and Rex were chatting over swirling low ball glasses of whiskey. And to your surprise, Dogma even come, even if he was just clutching a glass of water like a life preserver.

When they finally caught sight of you, you could hear their whoops and hollers over the music.

“Hey!” “There she is!” “Wooooo, (Y/N)!”

Amongst other greetings were chorused as you were pulled into the fold. Echo passed you off to Jesse who through an arm around your shoulders, easily pulling you to his side while Hardcase clapped a hand onto your back. Tup simply offered you a kind smile. They were all laughing and it was contagious.

Rex didn’t get up, but he did raise his glass to you with a nod and a smile. Dogma, who looked like he didn’t truly want to be there, at least managed a smile, even if it was a bit forced. You appreciated his presence, nonetheless. Kix slid out of the booth, fingers dipping into a pocket on his belt and producing a medium sized, clear gel capped pill before planing it in your hand. You took it, a little hesitantly, but looked up at him in confusion.

“It’s a hydration supplement. You’re gonna wanna take that if you want to function tomorrow.” He promised with a wink, offering the untouched glass of water. You followed his instructions and then the party really started.

While Kix had been being the responsible one, Hardcase had snuck off and had returning with a tray of nine shots that glowed a not-so-subtle neon blue. Because that’s what you should do- drink things that glow.

After placing them on the table, everyone took one of the tiny glasses (or in Dogma’s case was bullied into taking one), and looked to Rex expectantly.

“Well, Captain, aren’t you going to give a toast?” Fives chided, holding his shot up. Rex rose an eye brow, but mirrored the action.

“Alright. We’re very lucky to celebrate together tonight and even luckier to call (Y/N) our friend. Let’s drink to the 501st, to the Republic, and to many more years for (Y/N).” He announced very seriously and sincerely, locking eyes with you. It was almost enough to make you misty eyed- had Hardcase not immediately yelled.

“Hell yeah, I’ll drink to that! To (Y/N)!!” He shouted, and before you could changed your mind to raised the glass to your friends and threw it back. Surprisingly, the glowing liquor was sweet, a flavor you couldn’t quite place, but it did leave a burning trail down your throat. You coughed, at first, before shivering when the alcohol settled into your belly. The boys laughed at your expression.

“Well, if you’re not gonna drink it,” Hardcase shrugged, plucking the tiny glass out of Dogma’s hand and putting it in yours, “the birthday girl should.”

It was going to be a night.

And it was.

There were a couple of shots thrust into your hands periodically through the night that sustained the bubbly warmth moving through you blood. Between the shots, Fives and Echo did a good job of convincing random soldiers to buy you drinks. There was dancing and laughter, enough to last a lifetime.

Rex was the first to leave, handing you a glass of water and reminding you to pace yourself before looking sternly at Fives and Echo, “You two makes sure she gets home safe, that’s an order.”

Dogma was next, slipping out shortly after Rex. But not before you convinced to dance with you. It was stiff and awkward, but you managed to get him to laugh before the song was up. After Hardcase loudly boo-ed him for ‘wussing’ out, he wished you a happy Origin Day and reminded you of the call time for the next day.

That was when Jesse delivered you a fruity little umbrella drink, and coincidentally that was when night became a little fuzzy.

Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix took turns dancing with you, trading you around. Jesse even scared some shiny off when they tried to ease into your dance, getting a little too handsy for his taste. At one point, Jesse and Hardcase had you hoisted onto their shoulders as Tup waited ready to catch you if they dropped you. Before you knew it, the bartender was calling last call.

Then there were flashes of the journey home. Stumbling out of 79’s with the rest of the late night crowd, not being able to flag a taxi big enough for seven, deciding to walk, getting distracted by greasy street food, tripping over your own feet bad enough that Kix had to patch up your scraped up knees, and winding up at the Clone barracks being carried on Echo’s back, fast asleep. The only thing you remembered from the barracks was passing a group of clones in black and red armor, and one of them muttering, ‘regs...’ in disdain. By the time they realized they forgot to take you home, they were too tired to remedy it.

And that’s how you woke up in Hardcase’s bunk, with the said solider crashing on top of Tup in the bunk below you. Fives and Echo were slumped against each other, sitting on the floor. Kix was the only one where he was supposed to be and he was sleeping very soundly. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

None of you made it to call on time.

[zzyoma]

Kaede Akamatsu Rework!

So I decided I wanted to redesign/rework like every DRV3 character let's see if I actually do :> For reworks I'm either creating a backstory (since most of the kids have like no history) or really changing things if I find their ingame writing to be problematic. After each design I'll describe why I made the changes I did and then include the rewrite! These character sheets are mainly for me so I can draw the characters I like more comfortably but if you wanna use em go ahead!

Design Details

My style is very simplistic so I simplified a lot! Especially the skirt omg

Very round! Roundness = friendshaped and Kaede is 100% a friend

Slightly brighter colors because I feel like they fit her personality

I felt like she could be more piano-themed so I modified her skirt and hairclips

Gave her sweater vest a simple pattern for extra cuteness

Gave her Mary Janes cuz I thought it was cute

Tie > Bowtie because I like bowties

Short sleeves because, again, I like short sleeves

I suppose if you have any questions just ask!

Story Rework (more like "story addition")

Kaede grew up in a upper-middleclass family with a grand piano passed down from a great grandmother. From a young age she was adept at playing it but quickly became a pro all on her own. Pianos (specifically gran pianos) hold a sentimental place in her heart.

She's an only-child with two very loving and supportive parents. They have always supported her in playing piano and would look out for her when she became so invested in her music that she'd forget to eat. They helped teach her how to be the kind and compassionate person she is. Neither of them are very adept at music but they do their best to keep up with her and will sing along when she plays.

Kaede had never been great at playing outside or prolonged periods of activity. Such events would always make her incredibly tired, out of breath, and dehydrated. Because of this she was drawn to play piano all them time as many other activities tired her out. She found out during a doctor visit that she was anemic the whole time. Taking iron supplements allowed her to be more active but she still wanted to avoid a lot of sports due to her worry that she might injure her fingers, therefore inhibiting her ability to play piano.

Kaede is a sweet and caring person but she's also very stubborn and snaps when angered. She goes out of her way to help others but isn't afraid to tell them what she thinks is wrong with them. She does this in an attempt to help them better themselves but it can be seen as rude. She's also rather headstrong in her ways and will become unintentionally forceful in some situations if she sees only one way of doing something.

Random Tidbits

If Kaede isn't actively doing something with her hands she will gently move her fingers as if playing piano. She never intends to do this and gets very embarrassed if it's pointed out to her.

Kaede has sharp ears, perfect for catching if notes are even a little bit out of tune. However, she's also very good at picking up inflections in voices because of this. This helps with her often oblivious nature.

She's got very specific music tastes and isn't afraid to share them. She prefers instrumental, classical music as she thinks it conveys emotion to a finer degree than modern songs. There are some genres she simply can't stand and she will force you to either put on headphones, shut it off, or change it.

Kaede is very affectionate and loves to show it. She hits hard with meaningful compliments and also loves to hug. Or any form of physical affection, really. Hand holding, headbutting, back pats, you name it. She often forgets to ask others if they're comfortable with that, though, which leads to awkwardness.

Her ahoge is expressive, don't ask questions. So if her bowtie.

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[simon-newman]

Newman’s Anime Reviews - Kimetsu no Yaiba

Hello Everyone and welcome to my first anime review in… Nearly 4 years?

*Cough*

Yeah - I know - I am still supposed to write the Seven Witches review… I have no excuses. I will get to it. SOMEDAY!

But today I’m going to talk about another anime. The first title from my 2021 anime challenge.

Actually this is the only anime from the challenge list that I’ve picked myself because I’ve been intending to watch it for a while now.

I’m talking about

Kimetsu no Yaiba

Now - I didn’t really know what I’m getting myself into. I’m not sure if this counts as an achievement but I didn’t know shit about this title outside of:

Some people I know highly recommended it to me,

Nezuko is the best girl (and a demon)

There’s some dude wearing boar’s head as a mask,

Swords

Apparently it’s about killing demons

This is everything. EVERYTHING I knew when I started watching.

First things first however - let's start with the premise.

We meet our protagonist - Kamaboko Gonpachiro as he’s living his harsh but happy life with his large family. Monjiro takes on the responsibility of caring for his mother and younger siblings as the oldest male in the family after his father’s death before the start of the plot.

We join our protagonist as he goes down the mountain to sell charcoal at the nearby village and promises to come back with a lot of goods and food for the New Year’s.

Right off the bat we’re presented with beautiful scenes of  a loving family life our protagonist enjoys and I’m not going to make any anime veteran jokes about it.

Long story short - Tontaro’s trip lasts longer than he expected and he ends up staying the night at the village. It is then that we learn about demons that prowl the night of Kimetsu no Yaiba world. Evil creatures of darkness that feed on the flesh of humans. We also learn about demon hunters who protect people from those demons.

Gengoro resumes his trip back early in the morning but thanks to his keen sense of smell soon realizes that something is wrong. Very wrong. He rushes forward to get back as soon as possible but it is already too late.

There was a demon attack during the night and his family got killed with the sole exception of his sister Nezuko who was turned into a demon.

Surprising a demon hunter who appears shortly after Nezuko manages to regain her senses and has strong enough will to resist attacking humans. Thus begins Kanjiro’s journey - to become a demon slayer himself, avenge his family, protect others from what happened to him and find a way to turn his sister back into a regular human.

Sounds easy, right?

  I’ll be honest here that while the beginning was executed beautifully I must admit that I wasn’t really feeling this anime right away.

It seemed like your standard shounen anime from the start. Greatly executed despite being very cliche but still not outstanding.

Tragedy to set our protagonists on their way followed by the training arc and Jangoro finally becoming a demon slayer while Nezuko changes in her own way to be able to live without consuming humans - surprising experienced demon slayers.

It is only after that that the real story begins and we follow Tanjiro as he starts his mission as a true demon slayer himself.

Truly basics of the basics if I were to be honest. At that point I couldn’t really complain about anything in this show but at the same time nothing really stood out. As mentioned - the story was cliche. The fights so far were so-so. Animation was good but at the same time I knew that Ufotable isn’t showing it’s best yet. Somehow however it all just worked - together with music which really played into my tastes - yes - I really enjoy the music in this show (make it the one thing i really liked at that point).

But then everything changed with the Asakusa Arc.

Oh no! It’s Michael Jackson! RUN!

  The introduction of the Big Bad Muzan, his Twelve Demon Moons and the possible way of turning Nezuko back into human set our vague goals in place and Kentaro finally had a clear mission to accomplish.

What’s more - from this point on the fights become far more entertaining as well.

I did get the impression that this progress might be done too rapidly but thinking back it’s a good thing actually. We got too used to 150 episodes of nothing important happening and now any sort of early development seems rapid.

Before you say that I contradict my statements from earlier reviews hear me out: While we do meet major antagonists early on we don’t really get much from it outside of direction in the story. The Big Bad doesn’t make a move himself and is not even fought directly but becomes aware of Tangoro’s existence and wants him gone.

This is a good development to happen early in the story to keep the stakes high while not resolving anything just yet.

But this is not the end of improvements.

In the following story arc (Tsuzumi Mansion Arc) Santarou meets with two fellow demon slayer newbies - Zenitsu and Insouke who add some team dynamics to our already decent story and IMO further improves the fights we get to see.

As for the new team members… Zenitsu starts out pretty annoying at first with his extremely cowardly demeanor while Inosuke is the polar opposite with a fearless, rash personality.

I might be overthinking it but I see Inosuke as a parody - of sorts - for a character I personally dislike - Kirito from SAO. Both are dual-wielding master swordsmen with a feminine face (and for added bonus they’re both voiced by Yoshitsugu Matsuoka) but while Kirito’s strong because he’s the protag (Gary Stu) Inosuke is insanely ripped from his harsh life in the wilderness and… Well… Pretty much insane.

Pretty amazing, aren’t I? Pretty amazing, aren’t I?

  This change of pace - going from just Gentaro and Nezuko to a 4 man team with Zenitsu and Inosuke - marks the difference between the first and second half of this anime (and i forgot to mention it’s a whole 26 episodes show - not the 12 episodes short we got used to in recent years).

While the first half was kinda decent but not outstanding the second half is really, really entertaining to watch. Both the characters get a lot more chances at interaction and development and the action steps up from what we’ve seen before.

In short - two story arcs I’ve mentioned above supplemented what was lacking before. Things I wasn’t even clearly aware of initially.

Without a clear mission for Tenpachirou to accomplish we’d just descend into a monster-of-the-week formula and without more team members we’d be left with no means to explore our protagonists’ character in full.

What’s of Ponjirou extreme kindness if we don’t get to see him affect people with it outside of one-time-only interactions and his good relationship with his sister?

Yes - you can show it time and time again but from this point on it comes out more naturally and as I’ve mentioned already - we get to see it affect people in the long run - something I hope we’ll see further in the story.

Left to right: Boss Honey Badger, Sleeping Badass, Best Girl and Cinnamon Roll.

  Which brings me to this sad point…

Despite being a full 26 episodes show it still feels more like an introduction. We barely get to the right formula in the midpoint and conclude the fight against the first real enemy shortly before the anime is over. Souchirou’s journey has only just begun.

I’ve really wanted to write this review after watching the following Kimetsu no Yaiba Movie: Mugen Ressha-hen. That’s for multiple reasons.

At this point I know that this story arc is going to further up the stakes with the Upper Ranks of the Demon Moons getting into action but at the same time I’m really excited to see if Ufotable is going to show us what they’re capable of in terms of animation.

Because I think this anime deserves it.

Sadly - while the movie was out already I didn’t manage to watch it before writing this review.

Kamado Tanjirou vs Lower Moon One - Enmu.

  To sum it up - It was an interesting experience to see the anime develop in front of me - from a decent cliche show that didn’t make any major mistakes and played all the tropes just right into a really good and entertaining show in it’s own right.

My final assessment of the show is also the result of a certain niche this anime fits into. Namely the enjoyable sword fight scenes.

I’m definitely going to watch the movie when I’m able to and dive right into the following seasons of anime if they are made.

At this point something with this anime resonates with me - this show feels “just right” for some reason.

There’s also an added benefit of it not being dragged into infinity. From what I’ve heard the manga is already finished and we could get a definite end line before the story gets watered down into tasteless money grab.

Something to be appreciated when it comes to shounen manga…

Well. It is time to wrap up this review as well.

With all the above being said my final verdict is...

  Final Score: 8/10  +Newman’s Mark of Quality

Status: Completed

Sentence: Butterfly Mansion rehabilitation training (I bet I’d enjoy it after a while).

 Next: Code Geass

[fadingfloweryouth]

Cultural Appropriation among East Asian Popular Culture

*I am aware that amidst the rise of AAPI hate crimes, this is a very sensitive time to be talking about this. However, I think it is very important for East Asians (in my case, a Chinese immigrant living in the States) to address our own ignorance and avoidance on this issue in order to have solidarity with other BIPOC communities. My emphasis is on the media portrayal of cultural appropriation and how that could be potentially damaging, I do not intend to imply that cultural appropriation is prominent among all East Asians.*

If you are a frequent consumer of East Asian pop culture, you would be lying to say you haven’t seen an idol or a celebrity wearing dreads on camera. Sometimes they do so to create a streetwear look, sometimes they do so to deliberately play a character. We also tend to turn a blind eye to the countless bad rapping performances and the occasional half-joking bits about tribal, native cultures. As of now, many fans tend to defend their favs by calling these instances as acts of negligence, that none of these celebrities had an intent to harm; but how much longer, and farther, should we tolerate cultural appropriation in East Asian pop culture?

East Asian popular culture has become part of the global mainstream in recent years. With the help of social media and the supplemental supports from local governments (think South Korea), today’s cultural flow go in both directions: while Asian pop culture is often inspired by Western elements, East Asian media production is now the new leading force of culture.

One “neutral” definition of cultural appropriation could be summarized as the representation of cultural practices or experiences and the distinctive artistic styles of the particular culture used by nonmembers. However, misrepresentation, misunderstanding and manipulation of culture is frequent and damaging to many marginalized, underrepresented groups.

Appropriating Hip-hop

Even though there is a “neutral” definition of cultural appropriation, there is no neutral way to appropriate a culture. The moment you partake in a cultural practice that is not your own, you are marking it with your own social marker. Just to give an example, the rise of Gangsta Rap was in response to the mass incarceration of Black people during the War on Drugs era. The history of rap and hip-hop, as a whole, is tightly connected to Black lives in America.

So why is Asian rap so filled with flexing culture? The answer is simple. The rise of hip hop and rap in the East Asian music scene is a simple copy-and-paste of the Western pop chart. Hip-hop has become the best selling genre, yet it’s important to note that today’s hip-hop has taken a detour away from its root. Hip-hop and rap has been rendered with pop sounds, often rendered with the voices of white performers as well.

The idol factories in both South Korea and China had picked up the trend. Hip-hop and rap is what gets the cash, so that’s where the executives want to take their trainees. Shows like The Rap of China(这就是说唱), Rap for Youth(说唱新时代), received enormous popularity in the last few years among young Chinese people. While the popularization of these shows can help nurture more diversifying music tastes beyond the typical Chinese pop music, they portray rap and hip hop in a highly inaccurate fashion. The flows and forms featured in performances felt unilateral, often with a strong emphasis on flexin’ solely for the sake of flexin’. In addition, in no way did any of these shows serve to educate music lovers on the history and background of hip hop and rap.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hIJnBh7Dv8

P.s. this video features Rich Brian, I think it goes without saying that he’s probably not the best person to be educating Chinese youth on rapping.

Appropriating Black Hairstyles

Some contestants of these hip-hop shows also wore appropriated versions of Black hairstyles, and it wouldn’t be far fetched for me to say that the increased popularity of dreads among Kpop idols had kicked off this trend. Some of these celebrities are people who I have immense respects for, such as Jackson Wang. As the Chinese member of the Kpop boy group GOT7, he was the only Chinese celebrity (that I’m aware of) who spoke up for the BLM protests openly on his social media (I should note that he received quite a lot of backlashes for “defending violence”). But he—as I found out—refused to apologize when being criticized for wearing dreads back in 2016. He was called out in 2016 for wearing dreadlocks in a Pepsi commercial. He claimed that he did not intend to be racist. However, his fans questioned his response, as his defense did not acknowledge the history of dreadlocks.

More recently, BTS’s J-Hope was also called out for his hairstyle in his first solo single, “Chicken Noodle Soup.” Not only was his hair called out to be tiptoeing the line of cultural appropriation, it also felt odd that he only switched to the dreadlock-looking hairstyle during the nighttime break-dancing scene in the music video. While this might not have any further implications intended by the artist himself, this is an example of how infiltrating the unprofessional, gang-affiliated stereotypes surrounding dreadlocks could be.

Part of me thinks they are doing this to please white people, I could easily be right. White people are interested in hip-hop but can’t go as far as getting interested in Black culture? Sure, we Asians will provide. I sound harsh but that’s truly how I see the logic behind Asian pop stars appropriating Black culture. It’s true that many from the K-pop industry do not have full authority to their own identity, but I simply do not get the extent of appropriation employed in the K-pop scene—and this sabotaging trend is spreading in a scary rate to both Japan and China.

Reality TV in China features mostly celebrities, but I assume the goal of the government (for producing all these shows) is to achieve some sort of relatability through portraying famous people doing normal things. Again, just like how Western culture and East Asian culture influence each other, creating a feedback loop, an echo chamber of what’s socially acceptable and what’s not, famous people and normal people alike are all capable of influencing the social norms of Asia. We in America indulge in drama, the unethical wrongdoings of distant rich people. It’s not like that in Asia. People look up to celebrities. So if someone in Blackpink decided to wear braids in their newest music video, you’re bound to see kids trying to do the same.

Internalized Colorism

Sure, one can argue that it’s all negligence and ignorance, but we can not pretend the acts of cultural appropriation are not a result of internalized colorism. Blatant racism is less likely to occur in East Asian societies since they tend to have a less diverse ethnic makeup, but internalized colorism has always been an underlying problem in East Asia. Take China as an example, being “light skin” (though the direct translation of the Chinese word “白” is equivalent to “white,” the phrase is usually perceived as “light skin”) is generally viewed as elegant, pretty, or decent. Phrases such as “yellow skin,” “black skin” have risen to popularity in recent years as internet slangs used by online participants to criticize celebrities or themselves. People strive to be as “white” as possible by setting a societal expectation for public figures to follow, creating this social discourse chamber that deems the white skintone to be superior.

Even more recently, the phrase “非酋” (direct translation: “African tribe leader”) is used as a metaphor for people who tend to have very bad luck and never get what they wish for. From the perspective of an outsider, not only is this phrase obviously racist, it is also more dangerous in the sense that the metaphor entails a long line of other language-specific words that imply racially-charged stereotypes that could not be easily understood by non-Chinese. The phrase itself, however, is often used lightly by gamers--since this is actually an official phrase that ties to certain characters in certain games--and other young internet users to ironically joke about themselves without really considering the racist undertones of the phrase. Therefore, while using the phrase itself does not necessarily make one racist, it certainly reveals ignorance of the Chinese society on the issue of race.

Online Community, Bullet Comments and Echo Chamber

A single character in Japanese/Chinese tends to carry a lot more information than a single letter. As a result, there could easily be more combinations of words with the same characters in comparison to the alphabet for Roman languages. With the rise of fan-fueled, fan-made, fan-moderated video/social platforms like Bilibili (Chinese) and Niconico (Japanese), internet slangs are becoming increasingly niche. However, “niche” is defined against the traditional sense here. Slangs are only “niche” in the sense that the context is only known to a very specific audience, perhaps a fandom of a game or a show, but this audience itself could be enormous--certainly in the case of China. In these separate but internally united communities, people communicate in slangs that are culturally specific among themselves. How, you may ask? Through the persistence and permanence of bullet comments.

Up till this point, bullet comments are popular only and specifically to Japanese and Chinese cultures, again, a likely result of the linguistic natures of the languages. The chaotic, seemingly-never ending feature of bullet comments is an easy tool to nurture a sense of tight-knitted community for young internet users. Teens no longer need to worry about parents’ attempts to understand youth culture--most adults literally can not bear with the overwhelming screen of repetitive slangs. Bullet comments granted a new sense of freedom that previous generations of Japanese and Chinese youth did not experience.

However, it also means that bullet comments could create the perfect scenario for a social echo chamber. It’s hard for outsiders to penetrate the existing banters among a community that talks in their own lingos, and it also encourages the repetitiveness of the same idea, same belief. But this is not a characteristic specific to bullet comments or online communities in East Asia, this is a characteristic common among many East Asian cultures. In comparison to Western cultures, East Asians are way more comfortable, even dependent on group mentality and general consensus. Relatability is often prioritized over individuality on the internet scape, which on its own isn’t necessarily an issue; but this nature of East Asian online community certainly makes it a particularly weak target to colorist beliefs and culturally-insensitive content.

The reliant tendency on echo chamber and group mentality of East Asian communities makes them vulnerable targets of certain Western influences, including cultural appropriation and internalized colorism. In the case of China, its government literally banks on unity among its citizens to establish more extensive social control in order to rule. In both Korea and Japan, unity and group mentality are strongly encouraged and embraced as well. Ultimately, while the problem of cultural appropriation is becoming increasingly worrying among pop culture in East Asia, this is a foreign concept and problem for East Asians who might be helping the spread of cultural appropriation. Regardless, education on the subject matter is necessary and we need to start addressing the problem now.

[basicshitposts]

This is going to be a bit long and I have skipped a lot of stuff because I just wanted to get this out of my system but here goes nothing...

The reason I like One Direction and will remain a fan till the end of time no matter how much my friends tease me for it:

I was 13 when I first heard about them. I was a bit late to the fanbase. I wasn't really in a good place. Well 13 year olds don't really have a 'place' to be in but having random growth spurts, being taller than everyone in my grade, constantly being fat shamed by my mother because I didn't fit into old clothes, loosing all my friends to pretentious standards of life that they were just beginning to see through the eyes of their parents and not having anyone to talk to does kinda put a happy go lucky, quiet kid in a bad spot. This had been the case since I was 10, it was only beginning to affect me when I saw that I couldn't immerse myself in books forever because I already finished all that my mom would allow me to read. Sitting at the back during music class, our teacher made us sing Same Mistakes at the suggestion of the popular girls. That was my first One Direction song. The second one was Irresistible. Not the 2 songs people usually hear first. I devoured their music, their interviews, just all available Content on YouTube within a week. The feeling of being seen, being visible and loved is not one that comes easily. It came to me with the help of 5 boys who I knew had no idea I existed but had no doubt, loved me regardless of what I looked like. My insecurities still stayed in place, deepened further by family and almost everybody in school but in the moments that I had my headphones on, everything else faded. All that remained was me and the lyrics of the songs.

I was 14 when I first started to skip meals. I used to say that it was because I was hungry but I can admit now that that wasn't it. I started playing a bit of sports and lost weight very suddenly. It was around the same time I got diagnosed with PCOS. It was also immediately after this that I started making friends agan. I knew that inner beauty lies on the inside and what you look like doesn't really matter if your friends actually care but this did strike me as consequence and not coincidence. Starving myself didn't feel so bad anymore, now that I had friends who were willing to sit with me. Not till it resulted in me starving myself almost to hospitalization thrice through the ages of 14 to 16. The third time it happened, I decided it was enough and just not worth it. I had sacrificed my love for food for people and I just couldn't keep doing that anymore. And here started my journey to slowly increase my appetite and start eating again. It was definitely the hardest things I have ever done, especially since I was alone in it. I guess whoever reads this will be the first to know about it. I started watching a lot of concert videos at that point, reminiscing about 7th grade where I had practically romanticized the normalcy of feeling fat and hating yourself, sorta supplemented by some of the lyrics in Little Things. There was one particular video edit that I watched during this time that changed the way I saw this band forever. It was an edit of Harry Styles singing Little Things on the 20xx tour. He refused to sing the word 'weigh' and substituted the 'but' in his solo for an 'and' in the original line 'but you still love to squeeze into your jeans'. I cried so much that day. Eating just became a lot easier after that. Zayn left the band in the middle and opened up about his own eating disorder years later but that was much later.

People don't realize the affect that boybands can have on teenage girls. I now believe myself to a strong willed, independent girl (woman?) but the sight of any of the 5 boys still makes my heart do a flip out of affection.

I just turned 20. I listen to other music, a lot of it suggested by a Gaga fan with an all rounded music taste. He teases me about still listening to One Direction. Boybands have been called stupid since the beginning of time and even if they are, I can't seem to bring myself to care anymore. People will say what they say and while I walk the narrow 100 feet high wall, of low self esteem and insecurities on one side and being out of fucks to give on the other, I have learnt to identify my safe spaces, the most easily accessible of them being the music that was made by 5 boys, both old and new, the music that I will hold closest to my heart, hopefully till the day I die. That music saved my life, still does on really bad days.

TL;DR - One Direction (Harry Styles specifically) saved me from my eating disorder by just existing and being himself.

[heavenward-blog]

10 Signs You Might Be a Lukewarm Christian

Do you ever wonder if you are truly saved? Do you feel distant from God? Do you look, talk, act and think just like the world? This may be because you are truly not 100 percent on fire for Jesus and that you are on the fence about your walk.

The term “lukewarm Christian” derives from the idea of lukewarm water, which is no good taste-wise, is bland and is not useful in some ways. This term is referred to by Jesus in Revelation (Rev. 3) when He mentions many so-called “Christians” (Christ followers) or believers will cry out and not understand why they cannot enter into the Kingdom.

The answer is that they simply believed but did not follow Jesus. They believed enough to scrape by, but remember the demons even believe and they shudder (James 2:19). YES, it is by FAITH you are saved, not of yourself, but if you lack spiritual fruit (Galatians 5:22) and evidence of your spiritual walk (not by outward performance) and a life of worship, it leads you to be a stranger to Christ. Why do some people expect to be in eternity with God when they never served Him or communed with Him? Scary thought.

Many will say to me on that day, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?” (Matthew 7:22)

So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. (Revelation 3:16)

This idea is the same as if you answered a knock on the door of your house and someone said, “Can I come in?” If you never spoke to this person, spent time with them and they weren’t in your family or circle of friends, you would say, “No, I am sorry, I cannot let you in.” Maybe out of the kindness of your heart you would, but deep down, you would know that this person is a complete stranger.

It is the same with Jesus. When people want to come into heaven’s gates one day when they enter into eternity (outside of the flesh and outside of time), it will be TOO LATE to go back to earth and say, “I profess Jesus Christ as my LORD, my GOD, my KING.” You cannot live a double life. If you do, I ask you to repent (turn around the other way) quickly, stop acting worldly and decide who is King of your life.

You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder. (James 2:19)

And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity. (Matthew 7:23)

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Signs You Might Be a Lukewarm Christian

1. You never read your Bible (or Bible app, for that matter): You must read the Word to remain in the vine of the life, giving words of the Lord. Like a plant not connected to the vine if you don’t read your Bible, you will become spiritually dry and withered, and will feel isolated…this could lead to spiritual death. Refresh with the Word of God DAILY (Psalm 23—daily bread) to stay strong spiritually with the living water filling you every day (John 15). We need food and water to live, correct? Same goes for our spiritual walk with God…we need to feed it good food, which is the Word of God, the Holy Bible.

He answered and said, “It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by EVERY word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)

2. You are not plugged into fellowship regularly: You flow in and out of churches and don’t have your roots down deep.

3. You only read positive Christian books: Also known as “feel-good” Christian books that don’t discuss sin, hell, death and consequences of poor decisions. Devotionals and Christian books are good to read, but don’t only have this as your spiritual food. That is like eating vitamins for dinner. Christian books and devos are “supplements,” as I call them, but the Word of God (the Bible) is the main-course meal.

4. You look like the world: Your speech, attitude, lifestyle and even social media LOOK like the world. You can be in it, but not of it. There is a way to be salt and light and still be relevant. Don’t copy people to try to fit in. Only God’s opinion matters. Do you agree?

5. Your role models are celebrities: Who are you looking to for advice, dress, speech or even someone to walk behind in life? Is your role model someone who is seduced by this worldly system or is your role model a godly youth leader or mentor in your life? Evaluate this and write down people who help you draw closer to God. These people are usually rare, but pray God shows you who to walk and model yourself after. (I understand it is difficult to not want to copy celebs, but really guard your heart and mind ask yourself: “Is this someone I want to be like?” or do you want to be like a Proverbs 31 woman?)

6. You only listen to secular music: Music is powerful and influences your thoughts. It doesn’t feed your spirit and can cause you to stumble into worldly thinking and behavior. (For example: When I listen to certain music, it makes me want to go dancing at a club and or sometimes brings up the fleshly desires…if you want to be on fire for Jesus, fill your mind with worship!) You can have a balance, but it just depends…do you want to be hot or cold? An example of a good worship album is Hillsong United’s new Empires album; go to iTunes to listen to it if you need ideas for worship.

7. You don’t have a filter on your social media: You try to copy what other people are doing, constantly doubt your God-given beauty and talents, and try to lower your standards when posting pictures for attention on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. Don’t worry about who’s following you, but who YOU are following. Remember, Jesus only had 12 followers!

8. You are embarrassed and ashamed to talk about Jesus or your faith: Now, if you are a new believer or are shy, I am not saying this means you are lukewarm. (None of these define you as lukewarm, but it could mean it if you fall into a lot of these categories, if that makes sense.) Also, Jesus mentions in the Bible that if you are ashamed of Him on earth, He will be ashamed of you in front of God the Father and the angels. (Yeeks! That means Jesus wants us to be BOLD or on fire about our faith!) Yes, everyone is in different seasons and everyone has their own relationship with God, but we need to remember people’s souls are at stake. This is a serious matter in sharing the Gospel. God says, “GO and make disciples”—not try to go, but gives us a command “go.” God also doesn’t say this is the great mission, but rather He will be with us in our co-mission, amen?

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. (Matthew 28: 19-20)

9. Your beliefs contradict the Bible: You may say, “Oh, it’s okay to sleep with someone if you LOVE them…” which is the opposite of what God’s Holy Word says. Love is great, but it’s no good if it’s not under the umbrella of the protection of God. His Word is infallible, and is inerrant (the word inerrancy means “freedom from error or untruths”) and is the FINAL authority in heaven and on earth. You cannot argue with the Word of God. The Bible clearly says that fornication (sex before marriage) is not of God, and that marriage (a union between a man and a woman) is HOLY. God instituted marriage and His Word is eternal. Man can try to change God’s Word, but it won’t be altered. His Word is to help us, to protect us from disease, illness, harm, unwanted burdens and so forth.

Do you want to believe what feels good or sounds cool? Or do you want the TRUTH? With REAL love comes tough love, and truth. It isn’t easy, but truth sets you free. This is REAL love. In eternity, many people will wonder why people didn’t share the truth with them…let’s be the church, God’s bride and be REAL with people. Stop lying to people to make them feel good. This flesh is dying and the only thing that matters is their soul. Please…really love people in Jesus’ name.

God’s Word = Inerrancy. God’s Word = Truth. Truth = Gives LIFE.

…and the scripture cannot be broken… (John 10:35)

For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book: If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the Book of Life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book. (Revelation 22:18-19)

10. You have religious actions, but no real relationship with Jesus: You can act like a believer and do “good” deeds to increase your self-esteem, but unless what you do GENUINELY comes from a place of REAL worship (not seen by men), then it is somewhat not WHOLE-hearted. God wants a real relationship with us, just like you want one with your best friend, parents and peers, amen? When I say you are “on fire” for Jesus or cold, I mean you are in love with Jesus and your life emulates this daily (not that you are perfect.) When I refer to being cold, it means you are anti-Christ. Do you seek the Lord with your heart or to impress people?

Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. (John 4:23)

(c) ProjectInspired.com

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.4

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: my hope is that the idol industry can one day become a safer place for those who have dedicated their lives to making others happy ❤️

-

“Let me guess, you’re the type who needs to feel needed but also pushes people away?”

“How would you know that, Bunny Boy?”

“It’s my power.”

“You have powers too?” Snow blinks her pretty blue eyes. “Can you read minds?”

“I certainly can’t read minds,” Bunny Boy laughs. “But I am pretty good at reading hearts.”

“Oh yeah? What’s my heart feeling right now?”

“Well for starters, you seem to be annoyed by me prying too deep.”

“You are annoying.”

“And you also think I’m kinda cute.”

“I do not!”

You giggle into your phone screen for the hundredth time as you read through the latest Witch Hazel update. With the reveal of another character with secret powers, you wonder what Snow will make out of him. A friend? An ally? Or perhaps just someone who gets her.

Beneath the last comic panel of Snow rolling her eyes at the unofficially named Bunny Boy, you find cute little comments from the author.

“all i hope is for snow to take care of herself during this hiatus”

“even if it’s only a tiny amount, maybe witch hazel can help supplement as new snow content for now;;;;;;”

“ah i didnt mean to sound as if i were anywhere near snow’s level or anything;;;;;;”

“i just hope she knows she doesnt have to carry any burden all on her own”

“she has people on her side”

Your face doesn’t know whether to smile or shed tears, so you do a combination of both. It’s true, you’ve always felt alone. Always. No matter how many staff members it takes to produce an album or how many fans buy that album, you’ve never once felt that people could look beyond your idol music, your icy eyes, your mask.

But that’s exactly why you’re taking a break. You need to separate your worth from the music attached to your name. You need to prove to yourself that you’re more than what the critics and magazines say. And you’re only realizing it now that you can’t do it alone.

If only you had your own jk.seagull in your life. You’re sure the two of you would mesh well together.

-

“Where is that kid?” Taehyung pats the empty seat next to him before class starts. “He never skips class. I remember one time he literally rejected a date with a super cute girl because he ‘had to get to class’. Can you believe that?”

“Knowing Jungkook, I’d believe it,” you shrug. It does feel oddly empty without his presence, though.

“Oh really? You know all there is to know about the mysterious phenomenon that is Jeon Jungkook? It sounds like you guys got real acquainted on that date the other day.”

“It wasn’t a date, Taehyung. It was a meeting for a group project that you didn’t show up to.”

“Well it all evens out since Jungkook didn't show up today. Who knows, maybe you won’t show up tomorrow.”

“I’m sure he has a good reason for being absent. Unlike you.” You have to admit, it does worry you a little. Especially after the hints of doubt Jungkook expressed about his own beautiful art. You wish he knew how amazing of an artist he really is.

“What are you talking about? My reason was valid.”

“Having your cock sucked for five hours straight is not a valid reason, by the way.” You roll your eyes. “Let me guess, today you have a threesome scheduled after class and dinner date at 5?”

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh, Y/N.” Taehyung pretends to be offended, but he doesn’t deny your comment either. “You’re really his type, you know.”

“I’m whose type?”

“Jungkook’s.”

“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I’ve said this before, but you’re a lot like Snow.”

“How?”

“In how you present yourself,” Taehyung says. “You and her both come across as cold and heartless, but somehow I don’t buy it.” He doesn’t buy what? That you’re just as much of a bitch on the inside too? Ha.

“Jungkook must have weird taste then,” you shrug. Because in your opinion, you’re not exactly an easy person to love.

“But-” Taehyung is cut off by the professor starting class. You don’t know what more he could’ve said to make you change your mind anyway.

“There won’t be any lecture for today’s class.” Your professor is busy typing away at her computer, perhaps trying to get caught up on paperwork and grading old assignments. “Instead, I want you all to take this time to work on your group projects. You may leave the classroom if you must, but remember to stay on task!”

With that, your classmates jam out of the room as if they were just freed from prison. You hear a couple of friends deciding which boba place to try out. Another group, the overachievers of the class, head somewhere outside to actually work on the project. Taehyung, too, looks as if there’s somewhere else he needs to be.

“So I-”

“Go ahead and get laid,” you sigh, shooing the boy away with your hand. “We’ll work next time when all three of us are here.”

“Thanks, Y/N! You get me,” Taehyung waves bye before dashing off.

You wave back as the hall clears out around you. It seems everyone else has found somewhere to go. Everyone except you.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Buzz! You jump at the sudden phone notification that seems to echo off the walls of the empty hall. Oh look, it’s a text from your only friend.

10:32AM jinnie❤️ “good morning ^O^// just checking in on you”

10:33AM jinnie❤️ “how are you holding up with everything?”

“I’m fine!” you mumble rather aggressively to yourself, sliding your ass down onto the filthy hallway floor before texting back. Your chunky guitar case sits in your lap like a baby so it doesn’t get dirty.

10:34AM Y/N “i miss seeing you at work everyday :((((”

10:34AM Y/N “lololololol jk”

10:35AM Y/N “fuck work, am i right”

10:36AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N”

10:37AM Y/N “😒”

10:37AM Y/N “im fine”

10:38AM jinnie❤️ “thats exactly what people say when theyre not fine”

But you are fine. You’re completely fine with sitting all alone in an empty hallway, texting your only friend who also happens to be your manager.

10:39AM jinnie❤️ “what are you doing now?”

You pick up your guitar and start walking away. Obviously, you can’t tell him what you were actually doing because it would worry him too much. But you can’t lie to him either.

10:41AM Y/N “if you really must know”

You wait until you arrive at your new location before answering Seokjin’s million-dollar question. You’ve found your place.

10:45AM Y/N “im practicing in the music room before my theory class starts”

He sends you the Surprised Pikachu meme but also a few supportive comments.

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “good luck!”

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “and if you ever need something, please reach out to me!”

10:47AM jinnie❤️ “ill be checking in on you every now and then, but please enjoy your time off~”

10:48AM Y/N “thank you seokjin”

With your manager off your back, you settle into the empty music classroom and pull your trusty guitar out of its case. The flat and out of tune strings remind you of how long it’s been since the last time you touched the guitar. Because despite carrying it around wherever you go, it’s all for show.

In all honesty, you’re too afraid to let others hear, and yet, part of you wants them to know. You want them to know you’re an artist in your own right—without the judgment. But that’s asking for too much from this cruel world. Especially when you know you aren’t there yet.

One by one, you turn the pegs on your guitar, fine tuning each string by ear. That’s always been your secret talent, and maybe that’s how you’ve never been off-key since the moment you said your first words. If there was one thing you had going for you as an idol, it was that.

Once all the strings are tuned, you just sit there, staring at your fingers curved naturally in the C chord position. The muscle memory is still very much ingrained in you, but so are the scars. The last time you actually held your guitar, you were told you weren’t good enough. So you ended up settling for something else.

Today, however, you want to change that. You shouldn’t let several people’s opinions determine what you can or can’t amount to just because they were the professionals of the industry who supposedly “knew” what they were doing. They didn’t know you then, and they certainly don’t know you now. They don’t even know your real name.

But that’s okay. Having a secret identity makes you feel as though you can someday become a true superhero, someone who makes the world a better place from behind the scenes. In that sense, you want to be someone like your current favorite person on the internet, jk.seagull. You don’t know him, nor do you know his real name.

All you know is that his craft makes you happy.

With the funny fanfic boy in mind, you glance up to make sure the coast is clear before taking your first strum. Despite the dullness of your old worn-out strings, what your ears hear is crisp and bright.

-

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since you began singing along to a melody only you know, but you’re suddenly pulled back into reality with a single mention of her from outside the classroom.

“What do you think about the Snow news?”

“It’s honestly sad.”

“With how little she contributes to her music, I really don’t think she deserves a break.”

“She should just keep going. How hard is it to sing a few songs? I hope she knows she’s letting a lot of people down just so she could relax.”

“Or better yet, she should just retire early.”

You set down your guitar on the piano bench. You’ve heard quite enough and you’re ready to slam the door on the noisy group passing by. But by the time you peek your head out from the crack, the group is already at the other end of the hall. You do, however, find a surprise sitting right outside the music room.

The boy who was supposedly too sick to come to class is too busy sketching away to notice you staring at him.

“How long have you been sitting out here?”

The tiny hairs on the back of the boy’s neck stand up as his drawing hand freezes at the sound of your voice. He turns around, looking up at you as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Since I started sketching.” Jungkook shows you a simple yet pretty drawing of a flowery spring field. By his art standards, it couldn’t have taken him long to draw that one page.

But it isn’t until you start flipping through the rest of the pages in the sketchbook that you realize he’d been sitting there for quite a while. Each page is similar to the last with only slight differences in between. When you fly through the pages like a flipbook, you see the whole picture.

From the first sketch of spring flowers, snow slowly covers the field until only a single flower remains in a winter wonderland. If you go in reverse, you can watch as the snow melts away until that one flower disappears amongst its brethren.

“What kind of flower is that?” You point to the one that somehow managed to blossom through the thickness of the snow. Maybe if it were colored in, you’d have a better idea.

“A strong one?” Jungkook shrugs as if he’s not the artist who knows the the answer. You hate yourself for cackling along at his lousy joke. He closes his sketchbook as a way to change the subject. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Funny you should ask. The professor dismissed our class to work on the group projects. And then Tae ditched to go do his usual skirt-chasing shenanigans because somebody in our group didn’t show up.”

“Sorry,” the boy bites his lower lip with a hint of regret. “I didn’t really feel well enough to sit in class today.”

“Then why didn’t you just stay at home?”

“I still had this project to turn in and finish for my other class.” He raises his sketchbook. “And besides, music is the best medicine.”

You feel your cheeks burning up. The last person you expected to catch you messing around with your guitar in the music department was the art student who was supposed to be out sick. “How much did you hear…?”

“All I heard was one song…” He assures you for a slight second before going in for the kill, “…that you kept replaying over and over and over-”

“I get it. You heard a lot,” you hiss. “You better not tell anyone! Not even Tae.”

“I won’t,” he promises, chuckling at your distress. It seems the kid’s gotten comfortable enough around you to start clowning you. “It’s a nice song, by the way.”

“Really?” You want to believe him, but you have a hard time doing so. When all you’ve heard was brutal criticism for the past few years, it’s difficult to accept any compliment without feeling like there’s ill intent behind it. It feels wrong to feel good about yourself.

Besides, maybe he’s just complimenting you out of obligation. Like he’s trying to be nice, even if he doesn’t actually feel that way about your song.

“I’ll burden the pain so you don’t have to,” he says.

“What?”

“That’s a line from the lyrics, right?”

You nod.

“It’s a very Y/N thing to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs and swirls his Sailor Venus keychain around his index finger. “Just take it as a compliment, Y/N.”

If not for his soft teasing smile, your mind would still be filled with doubt. Instead, you accept the compliment and gain a tiny bit of confidence back.

“Come in for a second,” you start walking back inside the music room. “And close the door behind you.”

Jungkook does as he’s told, his eyes glued to your guitar as you pick it up off the piano bench. There, you do something you’ve never practiced but had always hoped to perform as Snow—your own acoustic version of one of your songs.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve never practiced or touched your guitar in years. You know the key, the chords, the strum pattern. And you know how to make it your own. Not Snow’s or anyone else’s.

When you’re done with your mini acoustic performance, the boy can’t help but chuckle. He’s about to clown you again. You can feel it.

“What??”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s seems like you don’t hate Snow as much as you lead on.”

“I was only trying to show how I would’ve done the song if I were her.”

“Ah, so you criticize Snow so much because you think you can do better?”

“Not necessarily better… just differently.” You hope that answer is enough to satisfy the boy. But it’s not. He only nods with an awfully suspicious smirk. “What now??”

“It’s cool that you want to be a songwriter.”

“I never said that I did,” you say with a slight pout and hmph. You’ve never once mentioned your true dreams to anyone besides maybe some random kid at camp when you were ten. You’d hate to announce your bold aspirations with the utmost confidence, only to flop and fail before achieving anything. You’d rather keep it a secret until you perhaps “pop-off” as the kids say.

“Sure.” He doesn’t believe you.

“Are you always this sassy when you’re sick?”

His long locks flow as he shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now, actually. Thanks to your medicine.”

Maybe the kid was faking his sickness all along. Then again, Taehyung did say Jungkook wasn’t the type to skip class under most circumstances. Perhaps there was something else that was bothering him.

“Wait, you weren’t upset about Snow’s hiatus, right?” You remember the gossip from the noisy group that had passed by earlier. The beating you took from their words still stings.

“To be honest, I was worried about her at first with everything that went on,” Jungkook says. “But I think she probably just needed some time away from all that.”

“Probably,” is all you say, doing your best to downplay the amount of relief his words gave you. He isn’t upset or let down; he just wishes the best for your well-being. And as an idol, that’s all you’ve ever asked for. “You know, you’re the nicest Snow fan I’ve ever met.”

“You know a lot of other Snow fans?” Jungkook tilts his head at your odd statement. Oh right. You’ve only really met other fans as Snow, not as Y/N. Now you sound suspicious.

“Oh yeah, for sure. My friend, Seokjin, reads Snow smut all the time,” you force out a laugh while making a mental apology to your manager. Then you decide it’s best to change the subject before you blow your cover. “Speaking of fanfiction, I need your opinion on Witch Hazel!”

“What about it?”

“The new bunny character.” You whip out your phone for direct reference of the comic. “He’s funny, right?”

“He’s good at teasing Snow,” Jungkook looks at your phone screen of the bunny saying that Snow thinks he’s cute. “I wonder if he’ll make her fall for him.”

“I want him to.” Your eyes light up without knowing. To have Snow fall in love is wishful thinking, but a large part of you craves romance deep down—even if it’s only for the fictional version of yourself. “But at the same time, he’s not Snow’s type.”

“What’s Snow’s type?”

“Huh?” You somehow managed to fuck up again, so you shrink yourself and hope to disappear. “I don’t know… Why would I know what Snow’s type is…? It’s probably not a playboy like the bunny, but I wouldn’t know that…!”

“So you think she’d like someone more… considerate?”

You nod. “Probably just someone who takes the time to get to know her.”

“I guess we’ll see in the upcoming chapters.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You can’t quite hold back a smile. After all, your day always feels a lot better when it involves your favorite little comic.

Jungkook must’ve noticed your face because he makes a comment. “I am curious, though, as to why you like Witch Hazel so much when you clearly don’t care for Snow herself.”

“For me, it has nothing to do with Snow.” To mask your smile, you make a cute duck face instead. “Reading it just… makes me happy.” As much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s been a long time since anything has given you good vibes the way that one comic does.

“That’s good,” the boy says, gathering his things to head to his next class. “It’s the same for me with Snow’s music… in case you were wondering.” And with that, he leaves you with something to think about.

If Snow’s music is Jungkook’s medicine, Witch Hazel is yours.

-

By the time you get home from school, you’re still smiling like an idiot after what Jungkook had said. Snow’s music makes him happy, and the mere thought of that makes you happy. It’s in (very rare) times like this that you remember why you chose to become an idol in the first place. It’s why you endure the pain.

With your mind clouded in an unfamiliar wave of emotion, you pull out your phone and tap on Jungkook’s contact information. After changing his contact name to something cuter, you start composing a casual message just to say hi.

Jungkook. What if I told you a secret?

Delete. You’ve never deleted a message so quick. You don’t even know which secret you would’ve told the boy. That you’re his crush, Snow? Or that he’s yours? Not that you have a huge crush on him… You swear it’s just a tiny one!

Regardless, you shouldn’t be sharing any of your deepest secrets with him—at least not for now. It’s not that you don’t trust him. It’s just that it’s a tricky situation to be in.

Your eyes move from your guitar, to the stacks of handwritten sheet music beside it, to the album that won you your first award—where the pain all began. Even the most supportive fan could not imagine what you’ve given up to be the idol that you are, to be someone with a name.

The only thing you can do now is take it all back. And only then will you let Jungkook in. But until that time comes, you don’t belong to him or anyone else.

4:44PM Snow “Are you free to talk?”

4:46PM Jimin “Yeah”

[junie-bugg]

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then. 

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around. 

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen. 

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there.  The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing. 

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house. 

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl. 

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast. 

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.” 

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy. 

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea. 

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter. 

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball. 

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed. 

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter. 

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself. 

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile. 

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk. 

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get. 

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back? 

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up. 

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze. 

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live. 

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim. 

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare. 

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked. 

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes. 

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh. 

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me. 

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me. 

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life. 

 As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since. 

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back. 

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular. 

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name. 

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me. 

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then. 

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.” 

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again. 

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.” 

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.” 

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square. 

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home. 

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!” 

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his. 

[sarinataylor]

Ok you have a supernatural au but what about a superpower/hero au? Im curious to see what youll give them!

rightio, pip pip! there is now like a fully developed au of this, but here’s the bare bones!

freddie: sound conversion

brian: replication

john: fire manipulation

roger: healing

freddie

so our boy can convert sound into other forms of energy

his faves are electricity and light (because they make such a show!) but he’s been known to forget to eat and supplement with sound instead

(he’s not a consumer of sound as such as he is a connoisseur. he likes his soul music, classical..... any sound will do, but he has taste you see? his body is a temple and all that)

you can imagine what their gigs are like 

people think it’s the louder the sound the better, but it’s not. sound doesn’t work like that, not when it’s filtered through the response of the human mind. the most beautiful light show he ever produced was the result of listening to the heartbeat of someone he loved overlaid with the soft sound of rain outside. not everything can be quantified, and the human element of his power makes sound one of those things. the softest of sounds can produce enough energy to keep the electricity on for a week, and then the next day give him barely enough juice to charge his phone.)

it’s a conscious choice to convert the sound though, obviously, otherwise he would be in energy overload so! he can sorta turn it on and off, though one time he slept through his alarm and woke up to all of the lights in the house blinking to the tune of Material Girl by Madonna

brian

this clone ass motherfucker (lookin @ u, invisible man mv)

so! his replication is sort of unstable? it doesn’t hold up to close scrutiny. 

like, it’s solid? but, like brian lmao, susceptible to folding like a house of cards when you prod at its weak spots. like. he essentially has anxious replications?

like his replications are aware that they’re not real? and so as soon as it appears that someone else also knows this they just collapse. disintegrate. there have been some awkward encounters

(usually they disintegrate on touch if they’re under scrutiny, or feel they are. however one time brian sent a clone to wake up roger who, half asleep, rolled over and blearily told the clone to “fuck off, i know you’re not real” which was enough to send the clone into an anxious disintegration.)

yeah. look what you’ve done, you’ve fucked up a perfectly good superpower is what you’ve done. it’s got anxiety.

he mainly uses his clones to get shit done? but

ok so each clone, when it’s outside of him, creates its own set of memories and experiences which then have to be assimilated by brian once they disintegrate which is fucking EXHAUSTING

it’s like the worlds worst hangover, depending on how long they’ve been out and about. one second he’s brian, and then the next he’s brian plus a shoehorn of memories which are trying to find their place in his brain. hell!

poor guy is always fucking exhausted, but also. he’s sorta always been like this so w/e ig

john

yeah i know roger is ALWAYS the fire manipulator but guess what fuck you it’s john

(also tbh i could see roger more as an earth manipulator? freddie as air. brian as water. WHATEVER IM OFF TOPIC)

boy’s gotta temper. 

general fire manipulation tbhhhhh he’s just not got the best control?

or, well. rather: he has the BEST control

until he doesnt

he’s just not all that comfortable with his power in all honesty. it has a bad rap as destructive, and well. this is the 21st century (yeah this is modern au too bc i say so) and no one really has much USE for burning pillars of fire nowadays do they?????? he’d have been a hit in the paleolithic age but they’re a bit past all that now. 

man have fire. without the need for superpowers.

john is, on the one hand, disdaining of his power and absolutely terrified on the other. he’d rather not have one at all. he can buy a lighter. it would be worth the rise on the heating bill. 

he can contain fire? but only small scale fire. any fire larger than him is out of his control -- which is part why his power is scary to him. fire spreads, and it spreads quickly

(over time he becomes more comfortable with his power and lessens his obsessive control over it. it’s like.... it’s like walking around with your teeth clenched. he was aware he was doing it in the beginning and he had control over it, he could choose not to clench his teeth. but soon it just became something he did and the idea of not doing it became abhorrent, felt as if it would lead to something horrible. but all it really meant was that when he stopped clenching his teeth, so to say, all his control was stripped from him at once. he learns to stop clenching his teeth.)

roger

rightio it’s my boy

so he’s a healer yo

except its a secret

bc, well. he didn’t grow up in the safest of households aight, and if there’s one thing an abuser is gonna take full advantage of it’s a victim who gets better and can heal others

so it’s a secret! bc its me guys cmon gotta have me angsty secrets

(not everyone in this au has powers? like they’re becoming more and more common. think mutants except without the fascism)

basically he can heal himself pretty much no matter what. and he can heal other people if he takes their wounds onto himself. he can then choose to pass the wounds on but, like, that’s an awful thing to do and he did it accidentally exactly once and felt so fucking guilty that he swore he’d never do it again

he doesn’t have complete control over it? if its someone he feels an emotional connection to sometimes he just..... takes their injuries and illnesses? 

(brian getting hep? a fucking NIGHTMARE. as soon as roger becomes aware of it he just starts...... taking it. which works fine-ish because well, he’s vaccinated correctly. it’s fine. except brian keeps fucking replicating and his clones still have hep so when they combine again he’s fucking got it again and no one understands why he keeps yo-yoing between being fine and being distinctly not fine, the doctors are in a tizzy about him potentially have unknwon healing powers, and roger is just Over It. and then ofc brian gets distinctly upset about the fact that roger just..... stops visiting him in the hospital but roger cant)

and roger hates hospitals. one time he went to visit a mate in uni and got stuck in the waiting room for half an hour. made friends with a little girl, was building blocks with her while her ma read a celebrity magazine. never ended up seeing his friend. little girl got called in for her appointment and went off skipping while roger suddenly had a broken fucking arm.     healing sucks. 

his power gets outed when john has a slip of control one day.

[jancmalandra]

On learning to dance

After spending the first half of January wandering the countryside of France just South of Paris, Moomintroll and Snufkin started heading North again in order to make it back to Moominvalley in time for the first day of Spring in late March. When they crossed the border of Belgium, Snufkin began to introduce Moomintroll to an entirely different kind of foraging from the scouring of the woods and fishing in the rivers that they had done on their way South.

"We have to stick to the coast so that we can still fish in the ocean.", Snufkin said, "As you know from our encounter with Rudolpho, the wealthy love taking up land for their mansions near the ocean. Fortunately, truly unpleasant people like Rudolpho really are rare, even among the wealthy. But even the kindest of them are too blinded by how much money they have to know how much more good they could do and how much happier they could be if they let go of it and released it back into the world. So much of what they try to hold onto inevitably slips through their fingers every day without them even noticing that we can take advantage of it as we move North. You already have experience in seeing the holes in the security of these estates, but that doesn't mean we can take them lightly. It is riskier to sneak on their estates to steal suplemental food, but the forests will not have enough to offer us until well into late Spring. One thing that will work in our favor, though, is that even the wealthy love having the kind of joy we experience with your family and all your friends in Moominvalley all the time. We need to keep our eyes and ears open for any parties that might be in the works in one of the mansions we pass. As much as I dislike crowds and noise, parties leave their kitchens and storerooms a lot more open to.....creative borrowers like us."

Moomintroll couldn't help noticing that Snufkin still didn't include himself in with his family or the Moominvalley community, as much as he had always loved being there, and despite his parents' unparalleled hospitality. He had to force himself to simply listen to Snufkin instead of jumping in immediately with words that might miss the mark due to his eagerness. Moomintroll would have a precious opportunity to offer Snufkin deep, loving comfort in his tent, under his covers every night, which would be much more effective than any words he could say. Learning patience had never been easy for him, but he was getting better at excersizing it little by little.

Snufkin's experience and advice proved invaluable as they moved North. Raiding oceanside estates definitely involved real danger, but they always came away with enough produce from each raid to supplement their diet of fish for several days. By the time they were halfway up the coast of Sweden, the two of them had become a well-oiled team of trespassers, which eased their trip up the coast of the Baltic Sea. But even their charmed luck and earned skill was bound to fail them at some point.

They came to a very charming fishing town in the North of Sweden near the border of Moominland. It would be their last stop before returning to Moominvalley. Their destination was only three days away, and they only needed one more haul of vegetables to see them through. The town had the same kind of warm, friendly, open atmosphere as the tiny village Moomintroll came from, only with many times more people. Even Snufkin found himself disarmed by the welcoming townspeople, despite the crowds, as they scouted the expansive townhouse of the founding family of the town, which stood right in the harbor area. They were a family of Fuzzies who were genuinely a part of the community their ancestors had built. Snufkin and Moomintroll caught sight of them when the pair arrived in town; they were simply strolling the streets to announce their annual Coming Of Spring Fancy Dress Ball and inviting all the shop owners to join them for it that very night.

It would be fair to say that Snufkin and Moomintroll dropped their guards as they crept into the townhouse through the doors to the dry storage area attached to the kitchen. They were completely unaware of the Hemulen who ran the household as Head Butler. He was very serious in the execution of his duties, and once the master and mistress returned with their children and the confirmed guest list, he locked the townhouse down by sending an under-butler to every door. Snufkin and Moomintroll were trapped in the vast dry storage area off of the kitchen. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Snufkin immediately began muttering about needing his space and he turned to Moomintroll, looking just a little desperate.

"I hope you've got a really good idea for escaping this place, because I'm drawing a blank, here!", said Snufkin.

"Actually, I think I do!", said Moomintroll, "This is a Fancy Dress Ball: all we have to do is join in like we belong when the guests are really starting to have fun. Even the staff will have stopped keeping count of everyone when the party kicks into high gear. We need to get me a quick costume: your traveling clothes will do the job for you perfectly! There's bound to be alcohol ready to serve to the guests: we need to make sure everyone gets drunk whether they planned to or not: that will really speed things up! What's the strongest alcohol you know of?"

"Vodka.", said Snufkin. "It's thoroughly nasty stuff; no odor, no taste, and it's WAY too strong to drink without mixing it with something else."

"Vodka. Vodka. Vodka.", Moomintroll repeated to himself, forcing the name into his memory. "Lastly; we won't be able to carry this off if you're this nervous. You'll give us away if you're not completely at your ease. I need you to look into my eyes as much as possible, and think of our love for each other. Picture it like an endless field of Spring flowers where there's only the two of us. Our love has all the space we'll ever need! Just focus on that, and that will drive out all your fear!"

Snufkin did as Moomintroll asked, and it truly was like magic. He could actually see that infinite field in Moomintroll's eyes and the two of them walking together in it without any fear! Suddenly, he was totally calm. "I'm alright now, Moomintroll! Go ahead and find yourself a costume, scope out the ballroom and find a way to make all the drinks alcoholic! I'll be fine here until you get back, I swear!"

Moomintroll peered into kitchen cautiously, but it was deserted. All the tables and equipment showed signs of the preparations for the party, but all of the food and drinks must have been moved to the ballroom very recently. He saw a spare cook's uniform hanging on a nearby hook in a line of similar hooks and a cook's hat on a long shelf above them and decided they would make a really good costume! The coat came down to his knees, but it would have to do. He looked out of the main kitchen door and heard a large bustle and hubbub coming from the ballroom just down the hall. He walked into the ballroom as casually as he could, and looked around very carefully. To his immediate right there were two long tables, one with four punch bowls filled with various luxurious juice mixes and punch cups, the other with a full wet bar set-up. Moomintroll inched his way over to the wet bar. Fortunately, all the activity of the staff in the ballroom was focused on the other side of the room, where everyone was still setting up all of the snacks on a set of tables that ran the full length of the room. Moomintroll peered under the tablecloth of the wet bar and saw a row of cases of high-quality alcohol. The Vodka was easy to find, and Moomintroll carefully took four bottles and poured one into each of the punch bowls. He then snuck back out and made his way back to Snufkin. All they had to do now was wait in the kitchen for the sound of the party starting to get out of hand.

The guests arrived in glamorous costumes and the big band at the top of the ballroom started playing highly energetic Swing music. It took only an hour for the sound of unrestrained hooting and hollering to come down the hallway. Moomintroll and Snufkin walked into the ballroom and joined the crowd of drunk dancers. The main doors to the townhouse were on the other side of the room from the bandstand. The thick crowd of guests formed an unavoidable barrier between them and the doors. The pair of them would have to dance their way into the crowd's hearts to escape without being discovered as frauds.

"I still don't have the slightest idea how to dance, Moomintroll.", said Snufkin, keeping his eyes firmly on Moomintroll's. He was completely at peace because of this. He was almost supernaturally sure that everything would be alright because of their love for each other.

"Just stay where you are, hold my paw, and move so you can keep your eyes on me. I'll take care of the rest!", said Moomintroll. Moomintroll had the best possible personality for dancing: he had very few inhibitions and no self-consciousness. He just let the music flow through him and moved completely freely under it's command. He swung and shimmied around Snufkin with total abandon! Snufkin found watching him move as intoxicating as the Vodka that was now fueling the party, and he was able to respond in kind just by holding his attention on Moomintroll! They were so wrapped up in their own world, they failed to notice that the rest of the partiers had gradually stopped dancing and were watching them in amazement and cheering them on drunkenly! Their host suddenly stopped the band after three songs of this.

"Alright, everybody!", he said enthusiastically, "We clearly have the winner of the prize for Best Couple!" He came over to Snufkin and Moomintroll and put a gold ring on a silk ribbon around Moomintroll's neck!

The crowd broke out in uproariously loud applause, and Snufkin and Moomintroll used the crowd's celebration of them as a perfect opportunity to make their exit out of the townhouse in style. The pair made their way back to their campsites outside of town without further incident. They immediately packed up their tents and their gear and left town just to be on the safe side.

"So, who are you going to give the ring to?", asked Snufkin, grinning at Moomintroll knowingly.

"Snork Maiden, obviously!", said Moomintroll with conviction.

"Do you think that's going to work out as you hope?", asked Snufkin tenderly.

"I have a really good feeling that we aren't the only ones who've gone through a lot since you fell in love with me. Regardless, I'm going for all my dreams now without hesitating. I've spent too long undermining my own hopes with doubt and fear. With you by my side, I can dare to do anything!", Moomintroll said, kissing Snufkin deeply.

The End