#does this not upset the friend that hates my sibling’s and my guts to see us on ur dash??? lmao??

[meraki-yao]

Thank you for the response on all of those asks! It’s really appreciated that you took the time to talk about all of the things in the asks. I hope this isn’t taken the wrong way or meant to be offensive at all because I just want to offer my opinion. About the misgendering, it’s hurtful to see your opinions about the extent of the reactions to the GLAAD event misgendering reactions because that might not have been an intentional misgendering but every day non binary/trans people face that (and other things) and it is a punch to the gut when someone does not acknowledge or invalidates their identity. No one should be spewing hate towards Taylor at all about that (or anything else to be clear) but I don’t think it’s fair to say that about the general reaction because people are allowed to be frustrated or upset about it. I understand your viewpoint but I’m seeing it as someone like Casey. Imagine the people in that audience who identify with Casey or people watching that video? It’s hurtful even if it’s not intentional. Even if they don’t identify with Casey but have siblings,friends, or just are an ally. Who wants to see that? It’s uncomfortable and hurtful. Yes it takes practice but it still affects how non-binary people see themselves and their mental health can be severely affected. I know you meant no ill will I just wanted to say my opinion on that. And as for Casey not having twitter I think they are aware of what goes down on there to an extent because they have a team. Just like they aren’t googling themselves or on Facebook to see what people say about them they have a team just like Taylor who isn’t ‘on’ twitter and probably deleted the app from his phone all together but is aware of what is said on there to a certain extent - by him I mean his team (because we know how he feels about twitter). And for Casey too, their team is aware and by extension, they are. Just because they don’t say anything doesn’t mean they aren’t aware of what is said at times online. The video was also posted online someplace else so they could have been sent the video and been made aware about the misgendering from some place aside from twitter. And they can work with someone for a movie and still be hurt about being misgendered it doesn’t mean Casey hates the person who misgendered them they just hate/are frustrated about being misgendered. It also happened recently in an article and a fan had to reach out and correct the writer/team about misgendering Casey. It’s just incredibly frustrating and I’m sure Casey saw that too because articles with quotes and specific information can’t be published without being sent to a persons team first. All in all the misgendering was disappointing and hurtful and to see it turned into hatred on Taylor, when he didn’t even do the misgendering and is constantly put to blame and hated on for so much is incredibly frustrating. I apologize if this ask makes it seem like I am attacking you specifically because that’s not the case at all I respect you very much and your opinions I just wanted to offer mine about the misgendering.

Firstly thank you for sharing your opinions and views with me in such a civilized manner, I really appreciate it.

After reading your message, I admit I think I downplayed being misgendered. It's not something I, as a cis female experience, but that's no excuse. I'm really sorry for that. I apologize.

I've seen the publications that misgendered Casey. My copy of RWRB is the old version with the wrong pronouns printed on the author info. I remember when the movie came out some article said part of the attraction was that it's written by a woman and Casey took it to Instagram. So I can see the "constantly being misgendered and denied their identity" part you mentioned. Yes, they can and should be frustrated, I'm just not entirely sure about the extent? Like saying someone said the wrong thing and should be more careful/aware isn't the same as saying their straight up transphobic.

I am by no means saying we shouldn't correct people when they use the wrong pronouns, but I at least initially felt like it's harder or more awkward to do in the given setting? Like it's easy to cut a conversation between like two, three people and go "oh they use they/them" but that was a talk to an audience, a monologue.

I stand by I don't think it was done in malice and a genuine mistake/ slip-up. I think I interpreted Casey's Instagram story as a direct complaint to Sarah and didn't really believe in that narrative if that makes sense? But you saying they're frustrated at the situation/the general situation of being misgendered makes sense. I see it now.

I still think Taylor shouldn't have taken the blame when he was using the right pronouns the whole event. But I see where I have been insensitive, and that's definitely not my intention. I'm truly sorry that my words were hurtful. 🙇🏻‍♀️

[samuraisharkie]

there’s somebody that used to be a friend but blocked me that’s STILL queuing my posts!!! 😭 like that’s so awkward ur ass is gonna ghost and block me EVERYWHERE bc ur buddy was being ableist and you decided to side w them but then ur gonna keep reblogging posts from me????

[butwhatifidothis]

This fic really said with its whole chest FUCK family, both blood and found, all that matters is romantic love for someone you knew for a few months of a 500-year lifetime, someone you didn't even have the guts not to kill when someone you hate told you to do it. What the fuck? And, the "tiny girl" thing is legitimately disgusting from the point of view of an adult in love with that person.

Different anon: Oh boy! I sure do love the implication that romance is literally what makes someone human! That trope isn’t obnoxious and disgusting at all! It’s not like there are any other important types of relationships, or that there are people who aren’t inclined towards or simply choose not to pursue romance for various reasons. Clearly they aren’t human. *screams*

Different anon: ok i didn't say anything about this before bc i dismissed it as regular amatonormative romance bs but this chapter was kinda arophobic: every aro blog has several posts about why even vague "love makes us human!" is bad for aros but this fic goes hard on "its woobies romantic love specificly that makes ficleth human!" not sweet flayn's platonic love, woobie's romantic one; didn't the author also say that marianne only gets better with ferdie whom she is shipped with in this fic? big yikes; it's presented as creepy that rhea wants to bring back her mom but when ficleth wants woobie back it's true love? on rhea that last scene with her was quite upsetting to me i had to take a break, rhea is a female character who is motivated by platonic love instead of romantic which i found great bc my siblings are the most important people in my life and super supportive, they always make sure to not push me aside in favor of romantic partners (which i had happen with friends before) so i might have taken it a bit personally when rhea's deep love for her family was underplayed in favor of willy, oh so it's unforgivable when she lies about history to protect her remaining family and wants to bring back her mom but her missing her boytoy so much that it drove her to that point is sympathetic? hmmm kinda sus if you ask me, it really makes my blood boil how rhea was demonized throughout the entire chapter UNTIL it's about her missing her FUCKING LOVER and her saying "yay you killing me for romance is fine bc it's the only thing that will ever make you happy"; please cap get a sensitivity beta reader i'm begging you this fic has so much unintended shit in it

Like... for all Cap’n says that he doesn’t like the “love fixes everything” trope, he sure as hell is writing romantic love to be the only thing that “fixes” Byleth. Her love for Edelgard is what makes her human, and nothing else. It can’t be that, say, it kickstarted Byleth being able to emote and express herself more, with its removal of course negatively impacting her but not erasing the progress outright, since it had opened the door for Byleth to have other deep relationships that are also very important to her. Or, say, it did erase the progress and her close ones work to help her through her hard time, getting her into a place where she can function through helping her move on from Edelgard. Nope, the only reason Byleth can be good is because of Edelgard and that is a good thing that should be encouraged. It shouldn’t be progressed past, it shouldn’t be worked on, it should be validated and proven correct. Familial and platonic love mean nothing, only romantic love can help anyone. Marianne can only find happiness while in love with Ferdinand, Bernadetta can’t be happy without Hubert, and Byleth can only be human with Edelgard’s love to tether her, because this is a healthy message to have consistently appear in your fic I promise.

(Anon one) And yeah... Seeing Byleth refer to Edelgard as a tiny girl really is... creepy. Like... that’s how she sees this young adult? As a tiny child? And she... likes Edelgard romantically? While seeing her as a child? Cap’n, like... does know that a girl is a child, right? Does he like, realize what he makes Byleth sound like when he constantly has her call Edelgard a little girl while being in love with her? I highly, highly doubt this was intentional at all, but like with all the other subtext in this fic it just looks really, really bad.

(Anon three) Don’t you know? Women can’t be sympathetic until they have a lover to mourn, if they do questionable things to protect their family then they should be demonized and lambasted - kinda like how men can’t be good/important unless their stories can be connected back to a woman’s! See, it goes full circle so everything is fine :))

[teamhook]

The Perfect Man :: Birthday Fic

Hello all! This story was written for the lovely amazing @searchingwardrobes for her birthday.

Story beta-ed by @ultraluckycatnd

FFN

AO3

Killian finds his way back to Granny's. The encounter with the three men has left him even more curious about Emma. She must be a special lass to have the attention and affection of so many men. Either that, or she was a siren, or perhaps she has bewitched them.

Killian is a perceptive man and he has a feeling in his gut that something is off. He had considered asking the men about Emma, but they had their hands full with their own issues.

Emma and the girls had finished practicing at the Blanchards’. Mary Margaret had gotten a call from David and they were getting all lovey-dovey. Emma left so they could have privacy, because there were things she never wanted to know about her brother.

She sits down on an old swing just taking in the scenery. She is having so much fun being Leo. She feels free; she doesn't have to be herself. Sometimes, the pressure from her family gets to her. David is the golden son. He is perfect and once he marries MM, his approval rate will be even higher. David’s currently away completing his training to be a Deputy Sheriff. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to date Sheriff Humbert, but that had not worked out. She knows the good Sheriff still has hope that she will come to her senses and give him another chance, but that is very unlikely. She misses both of her brothers and she hates feeling jealous of her brother James. She is so much more like him than David. She hopes to someday flee the little town just as he had. Small town, big hell. Her brother had craved to go out and conquer the world, so he left them behind and occasionally checked in, mostly with David; it must be a twin thing.

Then her thoughts traveled to Jones. She still has no idea why she flaked the moment she met him and gave him a fake identity. Once she realized who he was and why he was in town, she should have come clean and confessed, but her embarrassment clouded her mind. That, and he has very pretty eyes and luscious lips. She had gotten distracted by his looks. She has met good-looking men before, but there is something different about him. Maybe it was the fact that he appears to be well-traveled and experienced. She looks down at her watch. Perhaps if she goes home and changes quickly, she can finally apologize to him for making him travel to Storybrooke because of her dumb luck.

Killian was about to get ready for bed. His time in Storybrooke was coming to an end soon. Part of him is saddened by the thought, and the other part is upset because it appears Emma Nolan will remain a mystery. That thought surprisingly makes his heart hurt. There’s a soft knock on his door, one he almost misses. He can't imagine who it could be. The only people that know of him in the small town are the Nolan siblings. He opens the door and the first thing he sees is the most vibrant green orbs he had ever laid his eyes on. Long blonde wavy hair, with a dimpled chin graced by a hesitant smile on red full lips. He has seen many beautiful women in his life, but this one renders him speechless.

"Hello, I'm Emma Nolan." She pauses for a second. "Leo, my brother, passed on your message. I'm sorry you had to travel so far because of my very idiotic lack of attention. I was supposed to send an invitation to your family, not to cause any trouble. I'm sorry about Miss Blue as well. She can be difficult, but she meant no harm."

Killian raises his hand to pause her ramblings. "Lass, I'm sure it was an accident. However, my brother lacks any sense of humor. He is very uptight and an overbearing arse. Would you like to come in?"

Emma looks behind him and blushes as she notices the bed is ready for him. "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to apologize in person. Leo said you were very nice, and I’ve been busy with school, and I wanted to come by earlier. I did, but I kept missing you."

"It's no problem. I'm sorry we had missed each other." He scratches behind his ear. "I stopped by your home earlier to chat with your brother, but I was told he wasn't home."

"Oh, yeah, did you want me to let him know?" Emma asks.

"Well, I would love to see him before I leave."

"Are you leaving so soon?"

He smiles. "I will be departing the enchanting town of Storybrooke in a couple of days. I just wanted to thank him for being so helpful."

She nods. "I will let him know." She winces. "I hate to ask, but would you please reconsider not withdrawing the support your family offers the school in donations because of my fault? That would help me avoid Miss Blue's bad side," she says as she works her bottom lip nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Emma, I didn't mean it. I was upset and my mum would roll in her grave. She loved the school and this town."

"Oh, thank you. I already get on Miss Blue's bad side enough. I didn't need another way for her to be on my case. Thanks again. I will let Leo know and I'll let you rest. Goodnight Mr. Jones," Emma says as she turns to leave.

"Love, you can call me Killian." His bright smile makes her heart flutter.

Killian's final days in the small town his mother had grown up and left behind are spent with Emma Nolan showing him around in her free time. He is mesmerized by the beautiful lass and her free spirit which reminds him of his long-lost mum.

The night before he is set to depart, they spend it talking in his room with some room service and a subtle wink from Ruby in Emma’s direction.

“May I ask you a question, lass?” Killian asks as he is taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich, one he got at her recommendation.

“Sure, and you can call me Emma. I mean, you had to travel so far because of my fault,” she answers with a smile as she takes a bite of her fish and chips.

“Why write the letter?” He looks at her with curiosity.

She sighs. “I was thinking of the ideal man for me and for a brief moment, I had found him, but he was away from me.” She looks at him and shrugs.

He scratches behind his ear. “You are a beautiful lass and are clearly not lacking suitors.”

Emma looked at him with a high brow and tilt of the head. “Suitors?”

“Oh yes, a few nights ago, I went to your home to find your brother but instead, met three men outside arguing over you.”

Emma blushes profusely. “Ohh! But to get back to your question, I have yet to find such a man. I want something that seems to be unrealistic. Look, I have a pretty good idea of who you met. Each of those men has a quality I want, but not one of them has them all.”

He nods. “Emma, what are you looking for?” he asks curiously.

“I want… a man that will put the extra effort for me; that he lets it show I’m worth fighting for. He will be my best friend. We would be kindred spirits, open books. He will be romantic and full of passion. He will be mature and knows what he wants, and he won’t play games. He will be an adventurer and fun.”

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he says.

“What about you?” She asks because she’s curious, and perhaps a part of her is hoping she has some of the qualities he is looking for.

He looks away from her for a second. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it in quite some time. In my younger days, I wanted a lot of the same qualities you do.” He cringes as he realizes that Milah is nothing like what he had pictured himself with in his youth.

Emma notices the change in him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized how much my fiance lacks those qualities. Don’t misunderstand me, she is not a completely horrid person, but she is not always the easiest person to deal with.”

Emma’s heart sinks at his mention of the fiance. “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t that bad if she managed to get you.”

“To be honest, we fell into the engagement because it seemed like the logical next step in our relationship.”

“But you must love her?” Emma asks.

Their food is long forgotten.

“I just figured that true love wasn’t in the cards for me but--” He pauses for a second. “Perhaps we should change the subject.” He can’t let his mind wander into that territory.

Emma agrees and their conversation returns to Killian hearing stories shared by Ruth about Alice. They laugh at their mothers’ antics. Soon the night comes and their time together ends as they part reluctantly, both upset at the fact that they will most likely never see each other again. As a last attempt to keep a connection with Killian, Emma reminds him that he and his brother are invited to the annual play production. He smiles and nods.

After leaving Killian’s door, Emma sits down at the diner. She asks Granny for a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon; she needs the little pick me up.

Ruby comes out of the kitchen with the cup for Emma and sits next to her. “Hey, stranger! So you have to tell me, how was he?”

Emma turns to Ruby confused. “Wait, what?”

“The hottie. You have been spending all your time with him for the last 48 hours or so and he is hot!” Ruby says as if it was the obvious conclusion.

“Nothing like that happened. Rubes, he is engaged.” Emma scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I know you like him.” Ruby scoots closer and hugs her friend.

Emma sighs. “I didn’t even tell him the truth about Leo . I wanted to, but he had been so nice to me already. I don’t know, I just didn’t want him to not want to spend time with me. Oh my God, Ruby I’m horrible!”

“Ems, you are not horrible. I think you might have met your match, though.”

“Okay, let’s say you are right. What does that mean for me? He is getting married. He is going home to her .” Emma puts her cup down and gets up to leave the diner.

Once Killian finally arrives back home, he explains to Liam that the letter they received was all a simple misunderstanding. Liam asks if it was all a simple misunderstanding, then why did he take so long to come back. Killian simply answers that he wanted the connection to their mother to last longer, which is something that Liam can completely understand.

Milah was a different story. She was not happy with his absence, and made him aware of it. As she talks about wedding plans and how grandiose the wedding is going to be, he can’t help but feel his stomach drop at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her.

Liam has noticed a change in his brother since coming back from Storybrooke several weeks ago; the way Killian cringes when Milah touches him, or tries to show any form of affection. So he decides to confront him about the change in behavior on a night when they are enjoying a night out together.

“Brother, may I ask you something?” Liam asks as they sit down to have a drink.

Killian smiles. “Aye, what is it?”

“Since your return, you have been acting strangely. You seem distant all the time, but it’s much worse when you are with Milah. I don’t know how she can be so oblivious,” Liam says.

“I’m not acting any different. Liam, I honestly don’t know what you are getting at,” Killian says defiantly.

“Brother, you might be able to lie to that strumpet you are to marry, but not to me. I know you and I know for a fact there’s something wrong, and I have a strong feeling it has to do with that letter and the lass that wrote it.” Liam states and sighs. “Remember that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets .”

Killian stares incredibly at his brother. “What are you saying?”

“Isn't it obvious? End your relationship with Milah and go after your girl!” Liam says smiling.

Killian doesn’t think twice and goes to face Milah.

The conversation consists of Milah yelling and throwing things at him once he said the words: It’s over. I just don’t love you.

In Storybrooke, Emma has talked to her suitors to let them know that there is no chance in them ever working out. She has decided that after school ended, she will take a break and travel. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and needs to get out of the small town.

On the day of the play, her nerves start to get the best of her. Part of her hopes for a miracle that perhaps Killian will take her up on her invitation.

Miss Blue has been pleasantly surprised at the creativity of the girls and after Emma had informed her that the Jones donation was going to continue, she calmed down.

On his flight back, Killian can't contain his excitement, but he feels a moment of panic and uncertainty. What if she doesn't feel the same? He has replayed their interactions over and over again in his mind since the engagement with Milah was called off. He is certain that Emma feels the same way towards him. Their conversation about their ideal mate makes him think she does. It’s a risk, but she is worth it. He will win her over no matter how long it takes.

Once his plane descends into Logan Airport, his nerves pick up again. He feels like a bloody schoolboy. He has decided to stay in Boston and then drive to Storybrooke the night of the play to surprise her. He has a feeling that if he were to stay at Granny's, his presence will not remain a secret for long.

He had been doing some shopping when he spotted the perfect dress for her. It was a pale pink dress with a bodice that would hug her curves and the neckline would give a tasteful, yet modest, view of what was hidden underneath. He just knows he has to get it for her.

The day of the play, he arrives a tad late in hopes to stay hidden in the shadows to properly surprise her. The production is in full swing and his eyes find his friend Leo and smiles fondly. It had been obvious that the school went to great lengths to provide an exceptional performance. After the final curtain, Killian finds his way backstage where a stunned Ruby greeted him with a wide smile.

"Hello, lass. I'm looking for--" Killian is interrupted by the girl.

"Oh, you're here! I know why you are here, just head to the last room in the hall." She smiles and winks at him.

Killian follows her instructions. He knocks softly and opens the door once he hears the familiar voice telling him to enter. He looks around and notices the stalls used to change outfits. He approaches the closed stall.

Killian starts talking, "I couldn't possibly miss this production."

Emma stops dressing on the other side of the stall, her heart beating so fast. Without thinking, she uses her Leo voice. "I'm happy you made it... There's something I should have told you before, but I was afraid--"

"There's nothing to fear," he says and she feels a box he pushed under the stall touch her feet. She picks it up and opens it, finding a dress inside.

Emma laughs. "You knew? All this time?"

Killian simply answers, "I'm a perceptive man, love. But the performance tonight confirmed my suspicions."

"Why aren’t you angry at me? I lied to you," Emma says as she looks at the dress. "And the dress?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

"I figured you would tell me in time when you were ready. I hope it's not presumptuous of me to hope that perhaps you would like to go on a date with me?"

There’s a brief quiet moment when the stall opens, revealing Emma wearing the dress with a smile on her face.

“You look-” Killian says, speechless.

“I know,” Emma says with a smirk. “And I would love to go on a date with you, but what about your engagement?”

He nods. “I broke it off because this amazing lass wrote a letter that helped me find what I truly craved; true love.”

She closes the short distance between them and pulls him to her in a crashing kiss, one filled with the emotion his words caused to overflow from her heart.

In the end, Emma goes through with her plans of traveling. The difference is she does it with a man that loves her and makes her the happiest she has ever been. All by following in her future mother-in-law to be's footsteps, leaving Storybrooke behind for her new home.

Taglist:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg  @nikkiemms  @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians  @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes  @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38  @karlyfr13s @beckettj  @chasedancer17 @lonelyspectator12 @batana54 @gingerpolyglot​

[bigskydreaming]

Do you have any character in any fandom that you hate so much or a character who bothers you so much that you can't look at any media without getting annoyed/ upset? Not like villain character, a normal or even fandom fave character, someone most others won't find anything wrong with but your guts hate them, that kind?

I mean, the most obvious example of this for me is definitely Stiles in Teen Wolf lol. I know that a lot of people didn’t start disliking him until later seasons but I just flat out never liked him from the get go, and like....it built and grew due to a lot of fandom attitudes towards the character?

Because like......I just do not enjoy characters who constantly seem to be making digs at or undercutting their supposed friends or family, the way Stiles was with Scott from the very pilot. Its like yeah great, I can absolutely see and recognize all the times he was there for him and did in fact do good friendship type stuff, but the problem for me lies in the way fandom tends to make that TRANSACTIONAL with the stuff I had a problem with where its almost like, well, see, since Stiles tried so hard to save Scott in this one episode Motel California, he GETS to casually insult and demoralize him all the rest of the time, and holy shit no that’s not how that works, y’know? (Especially because Scott’s shitty self-esteem was the bad guy’s way in for almost killing him in Motel California, and gee what connection could there be between shitty self-esteem and constantly being belittled and talked down to by your literal best friend in the whole world BUT I DIGRESS).

And a lot of people over the years have been like, okay but friends tease each other and give each other shit all the time, are you saying they’re all bad for doing so? And no, I’m not, but the thing people tend to gloss over here is the key phrase “each other.”

Because its one thing when you have friendships like this. Its another thing when those friendships flow entirely one way in this specific regard.

When one character is not only ‘allowed to’ but almost EXPECTED to take pot shots at their friend at every available opportunity, but any single time the other friend does the same, no matter how playfully, its fixated upon as being mean and unfriendly, like...THAT is the problem.

And while I don’t have a specific single character that answers your question here in terms of Batfandom, the exact same phenomenon rears its head there and I holy hell object to that too, lol.

Like, we see it SO often with how Dick’s brothers are habitually characterized as mocking his relationship with Bruce, work ethic, standards, jobs, apartment, fashion choices, cooking, NAME......with it just taken for granted that there’s nothing wrong with them all calling him Dickhead or saying he’s ‘really lived up to his namesake’ practically once a fic, if not once a chapter......

And again, the common refrain is “well siblings are just like that?”

And they’re not actually, is the thing. I mean, I grew up with siblings too, and YES we gave each other shit all the time, but again its that exact same key phrase: EACH OTHER.

Like in comparison to the above, how often do people read fic where Dick casually insults his brothers every time he meets up with them, or makes snide, backhanded offensive references to their own parents or memories/reminders of them, or insults their standards not even as a point of specific conflict, but just as a casual, generic expression of contempt?

Its not a two-way street there either at ALL, and THAT’S the issue.

(Also similar to the example I outlined with Motel California, a lot of people write stuff about Dick having shitty self-esteem, but again like.....when you pair this as hand in hand with Dick regularly being insulted and talked down to by his own family, who never ever seem to have anything good to say to him or about him until AFTER he has some kind of breakdown, its like......where do you think shitty self-esteem so often comes from?)

Like, I’ve had people tag fic/drabble posts where I have Dick engaging in what to my estimation is the equivalent of gently teasing Jason or Tim.....and people tag these with “I feel funny about this because Dick seems kinda mean to his brothers here”.....and then nine out of ten times, if I go onto their blog, within a PAGE or two, I see some post where Jason and Tim are calling Dick a Dickhead or mocking his intelligence with NO sign of funny feelings from that person and its like......its not the criticism I mind, lol, its that uh, one of these things (standards of behavior applied to each character) are not like the others.

Because a lot of times when pressed on this subject, people will respond with “well it wouldn’t be in character/Dick or Scott are too nice for that to be their sense of humor” and again its just kinda glossed over that uh, this is basically a tacit admission that the characterization you’re going with for everyone else is ‘not that nice, actually.’ BUT any time people call this specific kind of behavior out when these characters do it, THEN the response is not “well yeah, you’re right, its not that nice actually,” its a defensive “well okay but that’s just how these characters are, are you saying they’re assholes?”

And its like well no, actually you basically were the ones who said they were assholes when you made this a core part of their characterization, and now you’re using this weird kinda circular logic to loophole your way out of them being actually held up and acknowledged as such WHEN they’re characterized this way. 

If these specific other characters never get to retaliate or return fire BECAUSE they’re too nice, then there should be no problem acknowledging that when the characters who DO engage in this behavior are actively engaging in it.....they’re being assholes, and no, its just how friends/siblings are is not actually a defensive/deviation from this if their targeted friend/sibling is never actually able to do the same without being held up specifically as stepping outside the territory of “being nice.”

Few things bug me more in terms of basic character interactions/dynamics then the tendency fandom has of building up certain characters as having free reign with how they treat other characters, while simultaneously limiting these other characters from any kind of equivalent spectrum of behavior by using their own positive traits AGAINST THEM.....but with fandom at the same time being willing to full on go to war in defense of the first kind of characters if anyone draws any kind of connecting dots between their examples of frankly asshole-ish behavior and the implication that they might, in fact, be not that awesome as a result.

Its this annoying sleight of hand wherein certain characters can do or say anything without it being a reflection on who they are character-wise, while other characters step the SLIGHTEST toe out of the line that fandom has drawn for their character and how they’re EXPECTED to behave at all times in order to avoid active criticism.....and this then absolutely is an indication of how they’re actually flawed and gross and even abusive, because of how not nice what they’re doing is, and if people want them to NOT be perceived that way, they need to go back to characterizing them or focusing their characterization of them on all the times/ways in which they just placidly accept whatever’s dished out without any kind of reciprocation.

So yeah, Stiles was always a big example of this for me, but it was far from limited to just him. Any time a fandom is like “these characters can make fun of this character or be super critical of them but this character is never ever allowed to do the same in return, that’s against the law,” I’m like yeah no, that’s a swing and a miss for me. Hard pass on those particular fandom faves....at least so long as their fandom fave status seems to go hand in hand with their ability to inflict maximum psychic damage upon their alleged loved one any time they’re feeling down or are just in a mood, all while facing zero consequences for it....even in the simple form of their targeted ‘loved one’ ever simply being like yeah I just choose to not want to be around you when you’re being assholes to me/if you’re going to just be an asshole to me.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Winter prompt fill 67 for sternclay? Doesn’t have to be a wedding I just love the 2nd half of this prompt. nsfw would be great

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW

67. you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you h e a r d

“She’s not coming.” Joseph whispers over his shoulder. 

“Joe, for all we know she got hung up in a dress emergency or something?” Lily, the best woman and Joseph’s sister, squeezes his shoulder.

When the groom turns his blue eyes on Barclay, the groomsman does his best impression of someone who thinks things will be fine.

“It’s only been five minutes.”

“Her entire wedding party is here without her. And they look as confused as we do.”

Barclay spots a member of the event staff slip in a side door and hand a piece of paper to Indrid, their friend who’s acting as an usher. 

“I, ah, have some bad news.” The pale-haired man joins them at the front of the church, “it seems the bride has had a serious change of mind and will not be joining us.”

Joseph grabs the paper, reading it over as the bridal party crowds around him. The upshot of all the commotion, and the arguing that follows the commotion, is that the bride has indeed called off the wedding and is en route to an airport. 

As the family confirms she’s alright, Joseph picks up the microphone.

“Obviously this is a, um, unexpected turn of events. It’s safe to say no one is getting married today, but everything is still in order for the reception and we’re all dressed up so, um, if people want to stay and take advantage of that, you’re welcome to. You’re also welcome to leave if you want.”

Several groups break off towards the reception hall, and Barclay pulls Joseph aside. 

“Joe,  are you sure? I mean, yeah, we’re all here, but I don’t think anyone is gonna hold it against you if you want to send everyone home.”

“It’s important to be flexible.” Joseph replies blithely. Barclay knows his best friend hates when plans change and is unlikely to suddenly lose that piece of his personality at the same moment he lost his fiancee. 

“Besides, I’d hate for that menu you helped us pick out to go to waste.” There it is, the Joseph Stern Professional smile ™, a sign that Barclay’s hunch is right.

“Screw the menu, man, I’m worried about you.” Barclay sets a hand on either of his shoulders. Joseph’s gaze snaps all the way onto him, and he knows he is losing this argument. 

“It’s still my wedding, Barclay. That means I get to run it in whatever way I think best.”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” He steps back, brushes lint from his arm, “you go on ahead. I join you in a sec.”

Joseph nods, turning to stride though the room in his dark suit, while Barclay watches the love of his life walk away.

-------------------------------------

“Uh, hi, I’m Barclay. You must be Joseph?” Barclay stands in the door of the dorm room, his backpack in his arms. 

“Yes. Um, nice to meet you.” The other guy stands, black hair and well-fitting X-Files shirt making him look like Agent Mulder on his day off.

“I didn’t choose a side yet, it seemed fair to wait until we were both here. I’m partial to the left but that’s more habit than anything else.”

“I’m cool with that. I, uh, I don’t have a ton of stuff to unpack so, uh if you need help let me know.”

“Thank you.” Joseph smiles, taking his face from cute to heart-stoppingly handsome, and Barclay decides he hit the roommate jackpot.

Barclay didn’t fall for Joe so much as cliffdive, throwing himself after the feeling he got whenever Joe laughed at a joke or told him a secret or talked for fifteen minutes about the methodology flaws in Ghost Hunters. Yes, Joe was hotter than convection oven and Barclay wanted to fuck him on the floor of every space they ever lived in, but more than that Barclay was so happy with him, and his friend felt the same way. 

The problem was, Barclay had a shy streak and was far from the only person to see Joe as a catch. And so they dated other people, sometimes happily and sometimes not, but never each other. By the time Joe met Iris, Barclay’s unrequited love had been thrumming in him so long it was no more than background noise. So when Joe ran proposal ideas by him, announced the weddings, asked Barclay to stand up with him, Barclay felt genuine happiness for him and the woman he loved. There’s no rule that says one cannot feel joy and knife-in-the-gut sorrow at the same time.

He’s only gotten better with age he thinks as Joe works the room, fielding condolences with ease. Barclay helped him choose the suit, black with blue lines in the stitching, because it flattered  but did not flaunt the well-maintained figure beneath. The last time Barclay saw him in just his underwear was when they lived together after college, and he fumbled his phone when he saw him at the beach last summer. He can picture it so clearly, what that body looks like under those clothes, and it makes him want to scream

“This whole day has been full of surprises.” Indrid sits down next to him, glass of soda in hand. 

“Kinda figured you and Duck would head home.”

“Most of  our friends are here, and the food looks good. Not to mention we’re both worried about-” Indrid nods towards Joseph.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I admire his holding it together but, like, what if Duck had left you at the altar?”

“I’d have turned into a hideous red-eyed monster and flapped screeching into the night.”

“......”

“That was a joke.” Indrid grins. 

“Right. Man, hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“While this is an upsetting situation, there is a bright side; maybe now you will finally tell Joseph how you feel.”

A crash makes them both turn in their seats; Joseph is wiping his dropped (plastic) cup up with a nearby napkin, well within earshot. 

“Indrid I swear if he heard-”

“Oh, I am certain he did.”

“Dude” Barclay hisses as Joseph steals an unreadable glance at him. 

“For goodness sake, you two are a good pair. A pair you’ve been dreaming about for years. Tell him.” With that the other man stands, leaving Barclay alone with his thoughts. His thoughts are no help, so he joins Indrid, Duck, Aubrey, and Dani for some cake.

As the venue finally empties, he realizes he hasn’t seen Joe in an hour and panics until he finds him standing (swaying, really) in the staging room. 

“You, hic, know, hic, this explains, hic, why she didn’t want to move until hic, after the wedding.”

“Seems like it’s for the best, going home to a place where all her stuff is would fucking suck.” Barclay puts an arm around him only for the shorter man to slump most of his weight into his chest.

“The hotel’s paid for, and I have a week hic of vacation and a packed car.”

“You’re not driving anywhere. I can and will lock you in a closet if you try.”

“Or you could, hic, come with me.”

“On your honeymoon?” Thank god Joe is too drunk to notice his voice creeping up.

“On my it’s this or be miserable t home trip. Please, Barclay? We can hic, swing by your place to get your stuff.”

Barclay says yes. Purely to help a friend in need and not because of how said friend feels pressed up against him.

They’re an hour out of the city when Joseph fumbles with his phone, “Change of plans, were going here instead of the hotel?”

“I thought the whole point was the hotel was paid for?”

“It is, by her family, so fuck it. I’ve always wanted to go here and it’s the kind of place she’d never let us stay.”

They take the next exit and find the highway North rather than East. By the time they reach the massive pink building with an airplane in the field out front, snow is falling and Joe is half-asleep, mumbling “okay” when Barclay says he’ll go get them a room. The clerk welcomes him, shows him a list of available rooms, and he notices a high number of them have heart-shaped bed, “tubs for two,” and the word “fantasy” in the name. 

Just as he’s wondering what the fuck Joe’s gotten them into, he spots the perfect room at the bottom of the list. 

“Got a surprise for you.” He helps Joe from the car and unlocks the door. His friend takes in the silver and green decor, the posters, and the UFO-shaped bed. 

“This is the exact one I was hoping for.”

“I know, you giant nerd.”

“Be nice, big guy, or you’re sleeping on the couch.” Joe stumbles to the bed and starts stripping, at which point Barclay zips back outside to get their bags. By the time he’s back, Joe is under the covers and out cold. The king bed does look comfy…

Barclay sleeps on the couch. 

-------------------------------------------------

Joe remains dead to the world until almost noon the next day, so Barclay works on his cookbook edits and sends yet another thank-you email to Mama for letting him take his vacation with such little notice. He grabs breakfast, including a sandwich for when Joe wakes up and some aspirin to go with his coffee. 

“I hate myself.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Joe rolls over, dragging the pillow atop his head, “I didn’t mean to get so drunk, it’s just the only way I could get through all those conversations yesterday was to take a drink every time I felt like crumbling.”

Barclay sits on the bed, petting his head, “It’s okay, man, getting me to drive you to a weird sex hotel is not the worst thing you’ve done drunk.”

“I threw up in a mixer one time.”

“And I’ll never forgive you for it.” He laughs when Joe whacks him with a pillow. In the silence that follows, he remembers Indrid’s comment, and wonders if Joe does too. 

“...Is this really a sex hotel? I just thought it was kitsch aimed at couples”

“Go look at the tub.”

Joe groans, stepping out of bed in just his--god help him--silk boxer briefs. They must have been under the suit. 

“Are these...they are, there are handcuffs hanging by the tub. Well, weird as that is, I’m taking a bath.”

The day goes in an oddly non-awkward direction after that. They’ve lived together often enough that getting dressed and clean in close quarters is nothing new. Joe votes for hiding from the world  bit longer, so they settle in on the very squishy bed and watch a silver plated T.V, Joe laughing whenever Barclay yells at cooking shows they way other people yell at football games. 

He still sleeps on the couch that night. 

The next day Joe is up bright and early, suggesting they drive to a nearby tourist trap, using his phone to pick out a breakfast place that serves Barclays favorite local coffee blend. They follow that same process the next two days; find some strange roadside attraction or nearby bookstore, eat, and return back to the motel to lay side by side on the bed and to read or watch T.V.

It’s as they’re wandering around a strange, knock-off Carhenge that Joe sighs, “I sort of saw it coming, you know? Iris leaving. I proposed because I cared about her, but she was the one who brought it up, and every time we were visiting her family or she got off the phone with them, she’d bring it up more forcefully. I think she was under more pressure to settle down than I grasped. If our places were switched, I might have run too. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to marry me.”

Barclay crunches to a stop in the snow “Why the fuck not?” 

“Because I’m exactly the kind of guy you’d want to bring home to your family but not spend your life with. My job has weird hours and travel, my non-work clothes have cryptids on them, I can be too particular, and I’m not that exciting for someone whose job is special agent-”

“No, fuck that, you’re a catch.”

“You’re just used to me, big guy. Your objectivity is in question.”

“Yeah, well, you’re even more used to you, so I’m really the more objective one here.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Joe stares at his footprints, then elbows the cook, “come on, lets go get lunch.”

Barclay is still full and happy, having warmed up via a soak in the tub (where he thought of four different ways to use the cuffs and then had to calm down his cock enough to get out), when he comes into the main room and finds Joe staring at his phone. 

“Oh shit, did she get in touch?”

“Yes. Iris, um, is on a cruise ship. As a yoga instructor. She says it’s something she’s dreamed of for years, that she’s sorry for hurting me, but that marrying me would have been a step in a life she did not want to lead. So. That’s that.” He puts the phone face down, cards his fingers through his hair, “Lord almighty I wish she’d just said no when I asked.”

“Me too.” Barclay imagines a different past, where Joe asked him instead, where he said yes because it’s what he’s been dreaming of since he was twenty-two. Where Joe is sitting in front of him, not sad-eyed and tired, but happy as can be. 

---------------------------------------------

This hangover is somehow worse than the one the morning after his non-wedding. Then again, he drank more in a shorter period, hoping to drown out the memory of the words on the screen. 

Or the words he overheard at the reception.

“Tell him how you really feel”

He’s had his suspicions about Barclay from time to time, most frequently when they were younger and he felt those deep brown eyes on his ass every time he turned around. But Barclay never took a chance; there were times after break-ups when Joe is certain anyone who was interested would have taken advantage of him being vulnerable and available, but instead Barclay cheered him up, the same way Joe did when Barclay’s relationships ended. Stern concluded neither of them wanted more. 

He would have taken more in an instant. His love for Barclay walked the line between romantic and platonic, and he would have crossed it the moment Barclay asked him to.

Now, he’s bathing with his eyes shut because any light is murder on his skull, his best friend waking up on the couch where he’s insisted on staying because clearly Joe’s lost his appeal. Who’d want to sleep with someone who got roaring drunk and needed babysitting?

He pops aspirin, drinks water, and lays down with his sleep mask over his eyes. Barclay moves around the room, talking softly in that gentle baritone that, not for the first time, makes Stern wonder what he sounds like when he cums. 

“You want me to run and grab breakfast?”

“No, I can get it for both of us. Lord knows you’ve done enough for me this week.”

“You gonna go downstairs blindfolded?”

“For you, I’ll risk a headache OW, owow.” His back locks up just as he tries to sit upright.

The bed sags, “Holy shit man, you’ve got a huge knot right here.”

“My back always does that when I’m stressed, it’ll be fine.”

“Nuhuh, lay down and let me see if I can get it out.” Barclay nudges him onto his stomach and he flops willingly, mask still on. 

“You don’t need to Ohhhhhhhhhnnn, I forget about those bakers hands.”

“Gonna knead you like dough, babe.”

Stern blushes at the name; he was always a little jealous when his friend called his boyfriends that. 

When thumbs pass below his shoulder-blades he moans, arches at the second of pain, “That’s it, that’s the epicenter.”

He can’t stop sighing as Barclay runs his hands over him, can’t stop wiggling his hips at every burst of relief. He pushes his ass up without meaning too, and a bitten-back whine reaches him. 

Fuck it. Even if he’s about to make a huge mistake, he wont have to look Barclay in the eyes.

“What did Indrid mean? At the reception.”

“Uh.” Barclay’s hands still, “uh. That I was worried about you.”

“Try again.” He grinds his ass back deliberately. 

“Joe, please, I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here. You’re underneath me shirtless and I am not gonna do this a dumb way.”

“Do what?”

“Tell you that, that I, no nope, I’m gonna do this back home, at the Lodge or something, make you dinner first and be all romantic so that you don’t think I’m talking with my dick when I say I love you.”

Barclay’s whole body tenses. Joe flips onto his back, regrets the sudden movement, and lifts his sleep mask. He takes one of his frozen hands from the air.

“I love you too.”

“Really?” Barclay sounds like a teenager whose crush just said yes to prom.

“Really. And I don’t think it’s just your dick talking. Although if you wanted to bring it into the equation I wouldn’t mind.” He sends a pointed stare at the half-hard shape under worn denim.

Barclay’s breathing is picking up, his posture trapped between movements. 

“Do you, um, do you want to kiss?”

His friend drops down in reply, smashing their lips together and parting his own imploringly until Stern slips his tongue between them. His big hands cup Stern’s face and his hips grind like he thinks his parents will be home any minute. 

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, Joe, ohgod, babe, please, please let me be good to you” the kisses on his face and neck are messy and the sweetest sensation he’s ever felt. 

“Barclay, you’ve always been good to me.”

“I meant this” he drags their dicks together, “kind of good.”

“Ohlord, yes okay, good point. Get your clothes off and bring me the purple bag that’s in my suitcase.”

Barclay grabs the bag, upends it and sends several sex toys, his strap-on underwear, and lots of condoms onto the bed, undresses as Stern sets one of the toys into the harness. 

“I need to put this back on.” He lowers the mask and hears a soft whine.

“I like seeing your eyes.”

“You’ll see them plenty, big guy, I promise. Now, open yourself up, please.”

“Oh hell yes.” A rip of foil, a pop of lube, and then Barclay straddles him, grunting delightfully. 

“Tell me when you get to three, that should be enough for this toy.”

Pre-cum drips just above the waistband of the underwear, and he gets a thrill remembering the few times he’d caught an accidental glimpse of Barclay’s dick. It’s big, that much he knows, and he’s going to have a lot of fun with it once he’s done reducing the man above him to tears. 

“T-three, babe.”

“Get my dick wet and then get to it.”

When he gets the gasp that tells him the toy is in, he smile and reaches to the underside of the base, “Remember that new dick I was excited about?”

“The vibrating one? OHFUCK, fuckyeahbabe” Barclay jerks and moans, his movements erratic even as he sinks all the way down. Stern echoes him, the pressure of the other man’s body makes the vibrations hit all the right spots. 

“Here’s how this is going to work, big guy; I’m going to get off while I fuck you, and if you can hold off on coming until I’m done, I’ll let you fuck me.”

“God yeah, Joe, fuck me, please.” 

He thrusts up and there’s a thud of Barclay’s hands hitting the headboard. The movement is rough on his stomach but he doesn’t care, grabs hold of thick thighs and fucks him, the other man working his hips in an attempt at rhythm.

The mask catches on a pillow, letting him see Barclay from the neck down. Lord, he looks good like this, big (Stern’s always loved how big he is), letting out the most appealing grunts and growls, dark hair covering most of his softly muscled body…

Wait a minute. 

He claps a hand over his mouth, laughing. 

“Whats, aAAhnnn, what’s so funny babe?”

“Remember when you found that Sasquatch dildo and bigfoot romance novel in my stuff?”

“Hard to forget.”

“I just discovered the source of the fantasy.”

“Are, are you saying I look like bigfoot when I fuck?” Barclay is shaking with laughter. 

“Kind of?”

“I’m putting that on a sign in my den.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late AHHhhnnnfuck, fuck, baby, pleasepleaseplease say you’re close.”

“Why? In a hurry to fuck me?”

“After ten fucking years? Yes.”

He focuses on rubbing off on the toy, holding Barclay in place to keep it at the right angle, orgasm building sudden and swift when he works his hips just right and Barclay starts whimpering.

“Shit” he bites out as it ripples through him, aftershocks jerking his hips and making them both groan. 

Barclay climbs off and he wiggles the underwear off and kicks them off the bed. 

“Okay, big guy, now you can fuck meSHIT, lordalmighty you  feel good.”

“Fucking knew it would, knew you were fucking made for me Joe, fuck you’re incredible.” The hand that’s not balancing him on the mattress is shoving Sterns left out and up so he can drive deeper, shaking the walls on each thrust. Stern wonders if there’s a way recreate ten years of pent up desire so that Barclay will fuck him with this same furious affection every night of his life.

He’s limp post-orgasm, happy to let Barclay manhandle him to his hearts content. When the other man sits up, dragging his hips into his lap, he moans louder than he had in years. 

“That’s it babe, lemme hear how good it is, fuck, no one’s ever looked this good taking my dick, c’mon, take it all the way, take me all the way while I cum in you.”

“Ohlord.” his toes curl weakly as bucks into him faster and faster.

“Fucking years, years I’ve wanted cum in whatever hole you’d give me, now I’m gonna and you’re gonna feel it for weeks, fuck, babe, that’s it, ohhhnn Joe, Joe” there’s a final growl as Barclay holds his legs open, the last jolts of his orgasm making his fingers dig into his skin. 

As he’s coming down and pulling out, Stern slips off the mask, blinking at the sight before him. Barclay, flushed and slick with sweat, staring at him like he’s a prize he’d never thought he’d see.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He winces at how childish it sounds. A week ago he had a fiancee, for gods sake. 

“Yeah, hell yes, wait, Joe, you just got out of an engagement. You, you sure you don’t want some time alone or to, like, explore other options?”

Stern crawls over to him, beard scratching his palm when he turns his cheek, “Barclay, I’ve always been one step away from falling in love with you, and it turns out this was the step. I trust you, I get along better with you than anyone else, and apparently we work well in bed. If, um, if you don’t want this, if it’s too late, I understand. But if you want to be together, I want that too.”

Barclay blinks. Then he blinks again. And then he’s crying and Stern pulls him into the hug.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Joe, don’t apologize. I’m so fucking happy, I’ve wanted to hear this for so long it’s just” a shaky breath, “just didn’t expect it to hit so hard. I love you, Joseph, and nothing would make me happier than being your boyfriend.”

They stay like that for awhile, talking in confessions and professions of feelings. Then Joe kisses him, and pulls him towards the bathroom to clean up (and maybe use those cuffs) before heading out to lunch.

----------------------------------------

Indrid opens the message on his phone, smiles, and texts four words in reply. 

I told you so

[shijiujun]

Can I be cheeky& also jump on the Chuyao fic prompt bandwagon, please? Sham marriage idea proposed by LY when his sister appears to drag him back home. Except LY announces straight up he can't as he is with QCS (We are married...spiritually!) and everyone, even QCS, going wth??? Then there's chaos (LY family) but also support (Bai family /all of Shanghai)? And somehow LY & QCS evolve from friends to lovers? I imagine QCS will suffer in this fic becoz of LY antics. Thank you so much!!

ANON, HERE YOU GO: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225831

-

“You can’t take me away from Lao Qiao, he’s my husband!” Lu Yao blurts out suddenly in the chaos, yelling at the top of his lungs.

The ensuing silence comes swiftly, and it’s so quiet that he thinks he can hear everyone’s heartbeats.

“You are?” yells Youning, about to launch a ceramic vase at an unsuspecting person in front of her.

“I am?” thinks Chusheng, a fist of his opponent’s hair in his right hand.

--

Read the full chapter below

“You can’t take me away from Lao Qiao, he’s my husband!” Lu Yao blurts out suddenly in the chaos, yelling at the top of his lungs.

The ensuing silence comes swiftly, and it’s so quiet that he thinks he can hear everyone’s heartbeats.

“You are?” yells Youning, about to launch a ceramic vase at an unsuspecting person in front of her.

“I am?” thinks Chusheng, a fist of his opponent’s hair in his right hand.

Lu Yao regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth, because he’d said whatever was the first thing on his mind in this moment of crisis, if only to keep everyone from fighting to the death. How did the situation even escalate like this?

His sister (and his siblings, to be accurate) rarely find themselves surprised by their youngest brother, but this time, Lu Miao’s eyes go comically wide as his words sink in. As soon as the surprise comes, however, the cold fury sets in, and Chusheng turns around just in time to have Lu Miao turn her attention on him. If looks could kill…

Chusheng is a little ashamed to say that he might be dead right now.

“You better explain, Lu Yao,” seethes Lu Miao.

===

He sits uncomfortably on the chair in Bai Qili’s manor, looking at his hands on his laps. Next to him, Chusheng sits as well in silence. The man has not exposed him so far, and Lu Yao wonders if he will — on one hand he hopes fervently that Chusheng helps him through this, but the other part fears Chusheng’s anger and disgust after.

He embarrassed Chusheng in front of so many people earlier. Lu Yao basically fake-outed Chusheng and dragged him into this farce, a farce that has no easy solution.

Why didn’t he use his stupid brain before spouting nonsense?

“You must be joking,” Lu Miao snorts, considering Lu Yao. “Which church or registry would have allowed you to officially marry another man?”

“We’re married spiritually!” Lu Yao retorts, when no one else speaks up. “We did our baitang, three bows and all.”

Chusheng doesn’t contradict him, but Lu Yao can almost feel the murderous intent emanating off the inspector who’s sitting closest to him.

“You are being entirely ridiculous, if it’s not officially registered then it doesn’t count at all! You’re coming back with me right this instant-“

“Why are you always sticking your nose into my affairs where it’s not welcomed? I’m perfectly happy here, have you ever thought about what I want? I’m not three anymore, jie!”

They might have continued to argue for hours after, maybe shatter some plates and cups in the process, if not for Bai Qili’s intervention.

“… Lu-xiaojie, perhaps a baitang doesn’t mean much to you or the rest of the Lu family, but the Bai family and Green Dragon Gang takes the ceremony very seriously. Since San Tu is married to Chusheng by ritual, I’m afraid he is one of ours now. If your family insists, I’m sure I can make arrangements for an official registration, conventional or not," the man drawls, as imposing as ever.

Lu Yao almost gapes at Bai Qili — out of everyone present here in this living room, Lu Yao was sure the old man would be the first to beat him to death and then toss his body into the river for daring to corrupt his Chusheng, never mind that Lu Yao comes from a powerful family himself.

How would he not know what a taboo it is for two men to be together in Shanghai, or the rest of China? If they were overseas — Paris, London, anywhere, this would be much more acceptable, so to hear Bai Qili just go with the flow without a word of protest or even a look at Lu Yao is not what he expects of the head of the Bai family.

Finally daring to brave a look at Chusheng, Lu Yao sees his best friend glance over at the same time and freezes.

There’s no anger, not that Lu Yao can see. Some exasperation and resignation perhaps as Chusheng sports an expression that is similar to the one he has when he’s experiencing severe gastric.

San Tu, you can’t tell me you don’t know just how much he dotes on and gives in to you.

This was something Youning said a while ago, and he shudders, all the hair on his skin standing up as Chusheng reaches out a little hesitantly, and then wrapping Lu Yao’s smaller hand in his.

“Da-jie, lao ye-zi, I’m sorry for not informing the both of you earlier, this was indeed an oversight on my part. We completed the ceremony in the Green Dragon Gang’s altar hall… we were still figuring out how to tell you both. My apologies,” he lies smoothly. “And if here is where San Tu wants to stay, I won’t have anyone take him away from me.”

Fuck, Lu Yao curses internally, his eyes widening because why does this sound so, so real?

A squeeze around his hand reminds him that it’s his turn to play his part, and so Lu Yao continues, “Jie, please. I just want to be here with Lao Qiao. If you… if you decide to take me back home anyway, if you do anything to take him away from me… I won’t want to live anymore.”

Lu Miao stares for a good while, but tries again, “Do I not know you well enough? You won’t have the guts to do that. Stop theatening me, it won’t work-“

“You didn’t think I’d cut myself off from the family,” Lu Yao returns quietly. “But I got out from right under your nose, didn’t I? At least for the first year.”

“San Tu, do you even know what you’re doing? He’s a gang member!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with a gang member? Are you looking down on my brother?” interrupts Youning suddenly, her hands on her hips as she furiously snaps at Lu Miao. “This gang member of a brother has been taking care of San Tu, where were you guys when he was down to his last silver and almost getting chased out of his house? It’s Lu Yao’s fortune to have bagged someone as outstanding as Chusheng-ge!"

Lu Yao pales a little at the mention of a fine example of how he’s not taking care of himself well and also at Youning’s insinuation that he married up, then hurries to say, “Jie, there’s no one else for me but Qiao Chusheng. Where he goes, I will go.”

Even in death, is the unspoken part to that declaration.

She falls silent at that. After a beat passes, Lu Miao turns her attention to Chusheng, as if saying, if my brother wants to be ridiculous, so be it, but are you going to ruin your reputation and everything you’ve built just to play along to his whims?

“And you love him?” she asks.

Unconsciously, Lu Yao clutches back at Chusheng’s hand in his, a plea.

“I love and cherish him above all else,” Chusheng replies without the slightest bit of hesitation.

If Lu Yao ignores everyone else around them, he can almost believe Chusheng when he says that.

===

It’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Lu Yao is curled up on the couch in Chusheng’s room at the Bai manor, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his fingers pressing at his temple as he contemplates just how much trouble he’s in. Not only has he pissed off his sister, because he’s sure Chusheng is mad at him too.

Now that the anger at his sister and the Lu family has abated somewhat, Lu Yao is finally left alone in his thoughts as he marvels at how bold he was earlier.

He regrets it now of course, but damn, this is the first time he’s been able to pull one over his sister. As ridiculous as he was, Lu Yao manages to think through the consequences of his actions — mainly the possibility that his family will try to do anything and everything within their power to create trouble for Chusheng.

He’s already dealt Chusheng with such a heavy blow, and over his dead body will the Lu family hurt even a strand of hair on his head, Lu Yao vows.

The only other problem is Chusheng’s happiness in the future. Once the news of his sham marriage with Chusheng goes out, will women dare to approach him after? What if there’s a woman that Chusheng really, really likes right now, and Lu Yao has basically ruined everything for him?

Would Chusheng hate him?

So absorbed he is in his thoughts, his teeth gnawing lightly at his nails, that he misses Chusheng’s entry into the room until the man flops down right next to him on the couch. Lu Yao startles so much that he almost falls off the edge of his seat, if not for Chusheng’s fast reflexes.

“You are honestly…” Chusheng admonishes without heat, sounding absolutely tired.

“I’m sorry,” Lu Yao rarely apologizes and admits his wrongdoings, but here he is. “Lao Qiao, I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t thinking-“

“Did I spoil you too much?” the man sighs, leaning into his seat with his eyes closed. “That you would pull such a huge lie in front of your family and mine and think that I would, without question, play along?”

The phrasing is strange enough that Lu Yao knows Chusheng is really, really upset.

Panicked, he replies, “Lao Qiao, I- I’ll go and tell them that it was a lie. I just… I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking! I’ll tell Bai lao-ye that it’s a lie, that you’re helping me deceive my sister, so don’t-“

Don’t be angry with me, don’t ignore me, don’t hate me.

“Forget it. You made the announcement to more than 60 people today, San Tu. I just barely smoothed this over with lao ye-zi, and what’s done has been done,” Chusheng finally says, patting at Lu Yao’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow. You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Other than the fact that Lu Yao doesn’t sleep well in new environments, the events of today have rattled him significantly, and with Chusheng lying on the couch surely awake as well, Lu Yao finds himself staring at the ceiling until dawn breaks.

Lu Yao knows he can fix this for Chusheng.

Can’t he?

===

“Inspector Qiao, congratulations!”

“Da-ge, congratulations! What kind of a brother are you huh, you got married and didn’t think to get us to throw a party for you?”

“Ahh… no wonder Detective Lu has been spending so much time with you recently. You hid it so well, lao-da!”

Chusheng has to be immensely thankful for the support from his brothers and the people who actually know him, like the owners of the snack stalls he frequents, even the newspaper boys that Chusheng regularly tips and everyone at the station. Telegrams start coming in from other precincts that are headed by several other members of the gang, and even some of the petty criminals that are stuck in the holding cell at the station for a few weeks give him their blessings.

Of course, while the people happy for him and Lu Yao actually number more than Chusheng expected, there are as many others who gossip and shoot him strange looks. He can almost hear the, look at him, such a fine young man, if not for his unconventional tastes in a partner.

By the end of the morning, Chusheng has unplugged all electronic communication devices in his office and the doors are firmly locked, with instructions to Salim to not let anyone in unless an entire village is on the cusp of imminent death.

He’s trying his best not to think too much about it. Chusheng meant what he said to Lu Miao before, that there isn’t much he can do for Lu Yao except to ensure that he will not suffer in silence. With the stunt Lu Yao pulled yesterday, this is the best Chusheng can do for him. For now, his strategy is to simply wait until everyone has forgotten that he and Lu Yao are married, and then…

And then what?

It’s not as if baitang is child’s play. Can he simple fake-divorce Lu Yao at the end of this? When will this end, in the first place? A year? Two years, a decade? And let’s say if they do manage that, will any proper and self-respecting woman even consider him?

Chusheng doesn’t have any prejudice against same-sex couples — back when he worked at the docks which saw an all-male staff, sometimes he heard stories about how some brothers would help each other out and find companionship in each other as well — but not everyone shares the same views as he.

At the thought, Chusheng calls, “Ah Dou.”

Ah Dou, who is patiently sorting through Chusheng’s actual work documents and the pile of congratulatory messages that came for him today, looks up from where he’s standing at the shelves.

“Get Liu Zi to send some brothers to protect Lu Yao,” he says with a frown.

That dumbass probably wouldn’t even notice if someone was intending to do him harm and with the way the gossip mill is running, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

And as for the future, possibly marrying a woman…

Chusheng shakes his head, clearing his mind of wishful thoughts.

For someone who doesn’t know if he can live to see the next day, who has blood all over his hands and is no good person at all, Chusheng has never expected to have his own family.

Not even Lu Yao should be tied down to him.

Salim pops his head through a small opening in the doors and asks, “Sir! Two congratulatory flower stands came for you, do you want me to set it up outside the office?”

Finally, Chusheng loses it.

“Anyone who makes another congratulatory remark can spend a night in jail!” he snaps. “What, do people not have anything better to do? I’m not fucking kidding. I don’t want to hear another message coming through the doors of the station, do you hear me?”

“Okay,” Salim replies a little dejectedly, closing the door shut behind him again.

Of course, his outburst and anger is what Lu Yao hears about a few hours later. Remorseful, he turns up at the station and sneaks into Chusheng’s office.

“… what’re you doing here?” Chusheng asks, looking up from his papers.

“Lao Qiao… I’m sorry,” he apologizes, biting at his lower lip. “I didn’t realize there’d be such a huge fuss over this.”

Lu Yao is the perfect picture of a sad, pitiful puppy, and Chusheng has all along doted on Lu Yao, so the image does tug at his heartstrings. As soon as the urge to comfort him comes, Chusheng frowns.

He’s got this all wrong. He’s the one who was wronged and taken advantaged of, so why does Lu Yao look like he’s the one being bullied?

Sighing, Chusheng kicks at the chair in front of him, signalling for Lu Yao to sit down.

“I’m not angry, San Tu. I would have appreciated some warning, and maybe we could have thought things through a little, but as I said last night, that’s all been done and we can’t turn back,” he points out.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Lu Yao swears, “I… I’ll take on all the cases you have while this marriage thing is going on for free? I can… I promise I won’t make you pay for any of my meals again, Lao Qiao. I… I won’t even hang around anymore outside of a case, just… just…”

At that, Chusheng finally laughs, and the sound is a huge relief for Lu Yao, who hasn’t heard him laugh since the shit that went down yesterday.

“I’ll hold you onto the first two then,” Chusheng says nonchalantly. “San Tu ah, what are you thinking? We’re brothers, are we not? You said before that you cherish the friends you have here and… it’s the same for me. If it’s something you want to do, or don’t want to do, I’m at your back ready to support you. For as long as this ruse has to last.”

“Even… if that means you’re in a gay relationship with me? Even if no woman would want to marry you after this?”

“Even then,” Chusheng nods. “I’m no good person to marry anyway.”

“That’s not true!” Lu Yao protests.

“Alright,” Chusheng waves him off. “I’ve already gotten earfuls from Youning and lao ye-zi for not treating you right, so… I guess since everyone thinks we’re married now, you need to move in to my apartment. Get Liu Zi to help you pack, and you really should move in as soon as possible.”

Lu Yao didn’t even think of that. As the implications of staying together with Chusheng sink in, he stiffens in his seat.

“What, you laid your claim on me first and now you’re being all shy about it?” snorts Chusheng, reaching over and poking at Lu Yao’s forehead. “I have an extra room, so don’t worry, husband.”

“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods at that, and his cheeks flush a little pink at the term. “I’ll go pack then.”

“And we have to do dinner at the Bai manor tonight!” calls Chusheng after him.

At the door, Lu Yao blanches.

===

They live together as friends from then on. Compared to Youning, Chusheng is the perfect roommate. At the very least, the likelihood of Chusheng setting something on fire is minimal, and the man’s house surprisingly suits Lu Yao’s tastes. As promised, there is enough space for them to have a bedroom each, and the storage room at the back turns into half a study for Lu Yao and his books.

Lu Yao decides that the least he can do is cook (and now that he has lost his source of income by offering to work for free, the only way he gets fed without having to pawn off his treasures is to ask for grocery money from Chusheng) for them both. When Chusheng realizes that Lu Yao is cooking regularly, he starts coming home early on a daily basis as well.

Bai Le Men and Chang San Tang are off-limits, unfortunately. For now, Chusheng is experiencing what it’s like to live as a monk, but the inconveniences stop there.

In fact, having Lu Yao in the same house as he has its perks, namely the ability to drag Lu Yao out of bed early in the morning for cases.

It’s their first case since the announcement and there is no lack of attention on them, as this is the first time they’re being seen out in public together. When some men in the crowd begin to focus on Lu Yao with less than friendly gazes, Chusheng naturally steps closer to him, his eyes steadily sweeping over the crowd.

He’s mine, he’s trying to say, if you’ve got anything you want to say you come at me.

They solve the murder two days later, and Lu Yao jumps in surprise when Chusheng slides three silvers over the top of the dining table, his usual payment for consulting on cases.

“What…”

“Save it,” Chusheng’s eyes crinkle a little as he smiles, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeing my wallet recently.”

Touched, Lu Yao feels hot tears come to his eyes, “Lao Qiao, I knew it, you’re the best to me-“

“Yeah, remember that the next time you try to use me to lie to your family. I don’t want you to spring an adopted child on me next,” Chusheng downs his wine, shaking his head.

Not as many changes happen after his fake-marriage to Lu Yao, much to Chusheng’s bewilderment.

On a usual day, it’s typical for him to buy breakfast, lunch or dinner for Lu Yao even before they began to live together. The only difference is that he’s going out to buy breakfast every day now before Lu Yao wakes up instead of every few days. Chusheng still chauffeurs him up and down, only the destination is no longer the apartment he shared with Youning, but Chusheng’s house.

Before this, he had Lu Yao’s cooking frequently too as the man would roll up his sleeves and cook for him and Youning at least one a week or every two weeks. They’re both slowly getting used to each other in close proximity, and the latest of developments involve them making grocery trips together every four days.

Everything else has stayed pretty much the same.

When Chusheng sees an imported coat made of high quality sheep’s fur as he passes by a store one day, he doesn’t even think much of it before he’s walking in and buying the expensive outerwear for Lu Yao. The price doesn’t even cross his mind. All he knows is that Lu Yao will like this.

He presents the bag to Lu Yao over dinner the same day, and Chusheng is right.

Lu Yao loves it so much that he leans over the table and presses a kiss to Chusheng’s cheek in excitement.

“What, are you really that happy?” Chusheng teases, but warmth fills him as he sees that he’s made the right choice.

“Of course I am! You know how scared I am of the cold,” Lu Yao points out, hugging the material to himself. “This material is known for trapping heat in!”

A few weeks later, Lu Yao ironically catches the flu bug despite how protected he is, and ends up bedridden with fever. To better take care of him, Chusheng lets Lu Yao rest in his bed so he doesn’t have to run between two rooms.

The bed sleeps two now, even after Lu Yao has made a full recovery. It feels less empty that way and both Chusheng and Lu Yao find themselves warmer under the covers sharing a bed.

As the weeks go by, they shift from having their own sides of the bed, to falling asleep and waking up in each other’s arms, their legs tangled together. Most of the time, Chusheng wakes to Lu Yao’s hair in his nose and his arm resting over Lu Yao’s waist.

And when Chusheng gets hurt by a rival gang involved in their latest case, Lu Yao tells the nurse outside the operating theatre that he’s Qiao Chusheng’s husband loudly. In the days after the operation. the nurses even bring an extra bed into the ward so Lu Yao can keep an eye on his husband.

The nurses and doctors, for one, think that their relationship is cute.

They even survive a trip to Hai Ning to visit Lu Yao’s father. Chusheng has to endure four separate shovel talks, each sounding more deadly than the previous one, but they get to announce their relationship to Lu Yao’s mother at her grave too.

On the train journey back, Lu Yao dozes off against Chusheng’s shoulder. He lifts up his arm to hug Lu Yao to him so he’s laying a bit more comfortably without question, enjoying the feeling of having Lu Yao in his hold.

===

A year after Lu Yao tried to con his way into matrimony with Chusheng, he returns home to an empty house, Chusheng not yet returned from the station. As Lu Yao passes the dining table for the kitchen to put his groceries away, a piece of paper and a metal trinket catches his eye.

It’s a marriage certificate. As real as it can be, with Lu Yao and Chushueng’s name on it.

The realization that they’ve been living just like a married couple in the past year hits him like a freight train and his legs feel weak.

Indeed, they are as real as any married couple existent in the country, minus the sex.

Of course Lu Yao loves Chusheng. There has never been any question about that. Chusheng is the only person Lu Yao truly cares about, more than he cares about himself.

Wherever he goes, I will go, even in death, he said then.

I love and cherish him above all else, Chusheng had answered.

With a small smile tugging at his lips, Lu Yao slides the gold band onto his fourth finger.

Busy at the stove making Chusheng’s favourite beef stew when Chusheng comes home later, Lu Yao is prepared when the man comes close, sliding his arms around his waist and pressing himself against Lu Yao’s back, his chin hooked on Lu Yao’s shoulder.

It’s not difficult to catch the gleam of an identical band sitting on Chusheng’s hand/

“Smells good,” Chusheng inhales deeply.

Lu Yao sets the spatula aside and covers the pot with a lid to let it simmer, and once he’s free, Chusheng turns him around and reaches for his lips.

They kiss softly as if they’ve done this countless of times, when it’s only their first, proper kiss, but it doesn't matter.

“Tomorrow,” Chusheng breathes, his forehead pressed against Lu Yao’s after they part finally for air.

“Let’s baitang for real in the ancestral hall.”

===

*baitang 拜堂 - Traditional Chinese wedding custom which involves three kowtows, there are variations but usually the couple kowtows to heaven & earth, to their ancestors, and then to their parents. Some baitangs will have the couple kowtowing to each other.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #455

“but you didn’t have to cut me off  /  make it like it never happened and that we were nothing”

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends? We're besties! :') Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual? No. Would you get a lip piercing? I already have a vertical labret. I've considered getting spiked snakebites (they might be called devil bites?) too, though. With a vertical labret, it looks sick as FUCK. It might be a bit much too close together for me, though, idk. Nose piercing? I want my right nostril re-pierced. What are you currently waiting for? Girt to message me back. I've decided what I want out of our relationship and just want to see him. Do you have feelings for anyone? Hit me pretty hard through a lot of examination of my feelings that yeah, I do. Have you ever run over an animal? Oh my god no, I would be DESTROYED. Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? bro what the fuck When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’? I do only out of expectation. I don't want someone to think I'm an ass or something for not saying it. When was the last time you were on a bouncy castle? A few years ago for my niece's birthday. She was scared of how loud it was and was very reluctant to get near it, so my fat ass got in there with everyone else to show her it was fine lol. I can't remember if she eventually got in. She loves them now, though. :') Have you ever went on a bouncy castle whilst drunk? No, but thanks for the idea, ha ha. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. What is one thing you will never do? Try hardcore drugs. What is one food that you detest? Asparagus. Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Not really. What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic. Are you still that religion? GOD NO. Do you often find yourself questioning your future? That's my full-time job. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 124. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? The same I listen to now. What pet names do you use with your significant other? I'm single rn, but usually, I go for "sweetie/sweetheart," "hunny," "love," "dear," stuff like that. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart. Have you ever seen a theatre show? Yes. What’s your favourite vegetable? Broccoli. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. I was SO fuckin upset because it was on Sara's birthday and planned in secret, and I was supposed to wake her up. It still wound up being a big surprise to her when she walked into her room and I was chillin' at her desk, ha ha, but I still wish it coulda gone as originally planned. Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them? Yes; they have a yappy-ass dog that doesn't shut up. I haven't met them. What color is your bedroom door? White. If you were ever to become famous, would you grow annoyed at fans? This may sound very ungrateful, but I have heard A LOT of celebrities say it: it would get old, being stopped constantly in public for signatures, pictures, etc. Like yes, I still WOULD be grateful, but I'd miss just being off the radar and able to go outside carrying out chores and stuff like a normal person. Have you ever met your favourite band/singer? No. :( Are you embarrassed by any of the songs/singers/bands you like? Nah, not nowadays. Have you ever written a story? Yes, a kinda short one when I was little. Think of the last poem you wrote: What inspired you to write it? The breakup with Jason and the fact we're just strangers again. It was really short, but I like it a lot, honestly. Do you have a chance with the person you like right now? I think so. What’s the weirdest thing you were scared of as a child? A skeleton in my closet, lol. Literally. Are there any embarrassing stories your family tells about you? alkdsjflakjwle yes In your opinion, what is the funniest TV show? That '70s Show. 3rd Rock From the Sun is high up there, too. What is the maximum number of children you’d ever have? HYPOTHETICALLY, two, but I'm pretty damn serious about having none. I just always feel kinda bad for children without a sibling, but three would make me pull my hair out. Have you ever been concerned you had a serious illness? Yes. I overreact to even minor symptoms to ANYTHING. Are you comfortable with who you are? No. Pretty much everything about myself embarrasses me, even if it shouldn't. Would you date someone even if you knew you’d get made fun of for it? Yes? Others' opinions don't affect how I feel about someone. Does popularity matter to you at all? No, outside of trying to be a successful photographer. Would you ever consider homeschooling your children? If they really wanted that and it would benefit them, yes. Who told you about the band/singer you are currently listening to? I discovered them myself. Do you ever read fanfiction? Nah. Would you rather die in a plane crash, ship wreck or fire? Jesus. A plane crash, I guess, because in a lot of cases, it would be an immediate death. What are your top five favourite TV shows? Meerkat Manor, Fullmetal Alchemist (and Brotherhood; shut up, they go together), That '70s Show, Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. What is your favorite superhero movie? Logan. If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? Uhhhh idk... I guess maybe a heart attack? Judging by doctor appointments, my heart is just fine, but the fact still remains that I'm technically obese, so that's always a risk. Have you ever taken a break from Facebook or other social media? Why? Facebook, yes. It was just depressing me. I was playing the comparison game REAL hard. Who is the most talented person you know? I dunno. I know many people talented in a lot of areas. Are you currently platonic friends with anyone you’ve had sex with? No. Where did you and your current interest go on your first date? Bowling. Have you ever experienced two people fighting over you (physically or mentally)? What happened? Jason and Juan pursued me at the same time. They'd known each other in the past, and Juan hated him for "winning" his ex-girlfriend. Then when Jason and I got together, Juan wasn't the happiest for sure. Have your parents ever thought you were gay? What happened? Before I actually came out as bisexual, I don't think so? Are your parents more liberal or conservative? Conservative. Mom is more open, but still conservative. I think. What year are you going into at the beginning of the next academic year? I'm not in school. How far away does your closest family member live? I live with Mom. If you’ve seen both, did you prefer the Disney version or the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland? I actually strongly prefer Tim Burton's. Would you have sex before marriage? Why or why not? Yeah. I just want to be in a long-term, serious, healthy relationship to reach that point and be as safe as possible about it. Are you more liberal or conservative? Liberal, but I do have some conservative beliefs, too. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I don't have one, given I never got into that franchise. What’s the worst that could come out of letting gays marry? Not a goddamn thing. What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done? Done "the thing." Name something that you are against. I'll go with an unconventional one that's a problem as of the late: making owning reptiles illegal. Why are you against it? Because reptiles are perfectly capable of being brilliant pets and, most importantly, can tame people's fears of them. I think that it's very important to see the worth and beauty in all animals, and reptiles are one of the most unappreciated families out there. :/ Have you ever played the Tomb Raider games? I played some of either the first or second one. I could never beat it. Old games are hard, man. Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy? I absolutely believe that it can get to an extreme that I don't like, but for the most part, I don't mind a clingy partner because hey, I am too. Beatles or Rolling Stones? Stonessss. When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody? It'd been on my mind for a while, but I *officially* realized that I really do like-like Girt a couple days ago. And since then it's gotten a bit hardcore and all I wanna do is talk to him bc fuck me and how attached to people I get. What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why? Every single time I go to the gym, I feel proud of myself because it REALLY takes a lot out of me. Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? Nope. I'm willing to be a shoulder to cry on for like... anyone. If you're hurting, talk to someone. I'll be there as an easy option. What was the last thing to fascinate you? It was... INCREDIBLY disturbing and almost nauseating even for me, but I saw a video of a dead whale explode. It was GRUESOME. Guts just kept coming and coming and coming and :x Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you? Hmmm... I'm sure there is, but what, it's not coming to me. Sudden, loud noises are an obvious answer. Do you have a favourite microorganism? ... No, I can't say I do. Out of the people you know, whose birthday is next? Girt's, actually. It's in October. If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? I did when I actually had them as a kid. Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? Ye. Have you ever owned chickens? No, but that'd be cool. Fresh eggs from a properly cared for chicken taste SO much better. When did you last listen to music? Currently. NOW I'm obsessed with Melodicka Bros & Violet Orlandi's cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know." It's done in a gothic metal style and is amaaaazing.

[diosefm]

THE OLD LION

when: very very late, right before the rebel announcement where: the gardens triggers: shitty dads mentions: minos valey, @virgobydcsign @pista-clearmark @deezeeashfrost​

DIOSE

She might have completely ruined the only good thing going on with her life, but at least she's got Virgo again. And she feels things are different now. There is now a silent agreement between the two. They're trusting each other now, they're actually acting like siblings. It doesn't matter if their lives are in shambles, because now they know they can both rely on each other. The newly-found softness between has been translated into physical acts. Diose and her sibling sit in the garden, Virgo's head resting on her lap as they exchange whispers and secrets. They mention Blythe, Pista. Silly yet important things. Things they couldn't discuss before. After the chaos that happened inside the main hall, Diose is at peace now. Sort of. But that's quickly ruined as she hears the familiar sound of her father's boots approaching the pair. "Virgo, we have to go."

VIRGO

They didn’t expect this to be so easy. That after everything they could go running after Diose (literally) and things would be okay. That they’re comfortable here, the delicate scent of their sister’s perfume and the way they bind her secrets to their own. Their eyes drift closed as they listen. Tiny details. Sweet, lovely things they never should’ve missed in the first place. Diose’s shift into panic and their instant understanding. 

 “No.” Virgo stiffens, surprised by their own resolve. They don’t move, their head a solid weight in Diose’s lap. “I think we should stay.” They’re tired of being scared. Shadows cast across their face as Minos comes between them and the light trickling out from the party, almost tempting them to look. Almost. His silence betrays nothing.

DIOSE

Diose has never been scared of her father. When she was younger, the older Valey idolized him, relished on the attention he gave her. While the appearance of Virgo did cause a rift between the two of them, Diose remained his favorite his favorite due to her younger's sibling inability to honor the Valey name despite being the one with actual Valey blood in their veins. As glad as that made Diose at the time, she stopped seeing her father in the same way. And now? She is not scared for her, but for Virgo. So, it's surprising that their younger sibling chooses to not flee and face him instead. Diose knows she can stand her ground when it comes to their father, but has her doubts in regards to Virgo. Still, she is no one to contradict him, so she nods and waits. 

 Despite his age, Minos Valey stills stands tall and proud. His presence is imposing, able to instill fear in the most powerful of men. Because no one can beat him, they're all below him, he's made it clear. And when he speaks, it's even worse.

"You two ought to be happy now. You've been given everything, you were set up to triumph and you've thrown all of that away in favor of playing stupid, childish games. Was your pathetic display last year not enough for you, Virgo?"

VIRGO

They’d be lying if they said they hadn’t been expecting that. Minos did well to hold his tongue this far with regards to their tragic debut. Granted, he’d made a few comments here and there over dinner, but those events had always had company and their father was cautious. Virgo finds the truth now doesn’t hurt them half as much as it ought to. The thing which does creep under their skin, unsettling what calm they’ve found with Diose, is the expectation. So much pressure to hold up archaic ideals of perfection. Being pitted against each other and then against the world because one arrogant old man believes his legacy trumps all. They didn’t ask for this. Neither of them have ever been given much choice. 

 “We haven’t thrown anything away.” Virgo cracks an eye, squinting up at their sister. Even now they look to her for guidance. “Feels like half the guests tonight are dressed in Diose, that’s huge. She’s all the style recaps are going to be talking about for weeks.” Okay, that’s maybe not quite true considering the Games really are coming. But they know their point is solid. If they had the guts to, they’d add that Diose’s work is better for the change in her. They see what she’s done for Nelly. 

 Minos’ expression is unreadable. The art of intimidation is all in the subtleties, the way he angles his chin to look down on the both of them. “What good will that do? After the display you put on for all these esteemed guests?” A weighted pause. “You mean to make a mockery of all I’ve built for you.”

DIOSE

Diose wants to tell Virgo to shut up. They've been dealing with Minos's parenting for longer than they have. They've lived with him, had his eyes follow her everywhere until she decided it was time to flee the nest. She looks down at Virgo and can only shake her head. She's thankful, really. Virgo uses their turn to speak to compliment her, help her appear like she is still flawless and can do no wrong. Maybe Minos saw her that way once, but when Diose looks at him, sees the way her father clenches his fists, she knows how he truly feels.

"Wearing your sister's designs used to mean something. I could hardly hide my disgust when I saw the kind of individuals who dared to don your sister's designs. Rejects, vagrants. People who are not up to our standard, who do not deserve to break bread with us." A pause. "Let alone sit beside you two when the eyes of the Capitol are on you two"

His words sting. They hurt because she knows he is know speaking directly to her. It's a wonder how Diose is able to lift her gaze and look him right in the eye, hand buried in Virgo's hair. "I merely stood up for myself." She does not dare to mention Pista. She doesn't need her father to think of him, have him on his sights. It'll do no good. "Should I have allowed that man to humiliate me? He is nothing but a drunk. I don't understand why you must give him such importance." As much as she hates DeeZee, mentioning his name is not an option either. Pista cares about him, obviously. She'll protect him this one time. Not that his father can't figure out who is who. Diose just wants to direct his attention somewhere else.

"You're pathetic. Both of you are. Pathetic children tainting my hard work, embarrassing me in front of my colleagues. That is not the way we do things, Diose. Discretion is of utmost importance when dealing with vermin."

VIRGO

Virgo may have taken their father’s chastisement with relative ease (at least the won’t think too hard on it until later) but the way he speaks of Diose boils their blood. They think she’s done the right thing in extending her gift to the people they want to call friends. Nelly looks beautiful; Pista is worlds away from toiling over trains. Just because they aren’t Capitol penthouse elite doesn’t mean they shouldn’t get to share in their sister’s perfection. Diose is showing a side of herself they’ve admired for years now, the one she likes to pretend doesn’t exist: true kindness. 

 “It means more now,” they say, softly. Virgo wishes they’d been bold enough to swallow their anguish and ask Diose to dress them, too. The point doesn’t hit as hard when they’d deflected elsewhere. “Weddings are supposed to be about unity. That’s what Diose is showing, collaborating with the people who worked harder than all of us to be here. Not vermin, victors.” 

 Virgo wants to cringe at how pretentious, how idealistic, they sound. Words influenced by the low-budget dramas they love so much but can’t quite capture the heroism of. Speeches aren’t their strong suit. They reach up to squeeze Diose’s arm, gentle reassurance that they’re on her side. After all that she’s shared with them they need her to know they’re on her side. No matter what they say, they know neither would get through to Minos alone. Chances they’ll do it together aren’t great either. 

”Save your excuses. You ought to know better than to stoop to their level. Don’t you realize the damage you’ve done? It’s clear all those years of education were put to waste if you can’t outsmart that halfwit.”

DIOSE

Diose's night has been absolutely terrible, but she finds solace in the fact that Virgo and her are closer than ever. Still, Diose wants nothing more than to put her hand over Virgo's mouth and keep them from talking. She appreciates their words, she really does, but the last thing both of they need is to provoke their father. Diose knows very well what he is capable of when he is upset and she doesn't want her father to target Pista or Nelly. "He provoked me, and I'm your daughter. Should you not be on my side?" But she knows better than that, knows her father is only on the side or those who are winning. With Diose being the laughingstock of the night, she knows the only support she has right now is Virgo's.

"Unity? The only people that you should be concerned about are your family. Your sister's designs are now almost as worthless as yours. Do you not care about my legacy, or your mother's? I knew she spoiled you too much. You're soft. It's sickening. I won't be on your side nor your sister's when you two are determined to spend your time surrounded by people below us. I've had my eyes on both of you all night. Have you forgotten whose blood runs through your veins? That woman you're with has done nothing but spit on your family's work for years."

She feels her father's insults will sting more now that they're getting personal. Diose is certain she can handle at least some of his poison with the help of her remaining grace and poise, but it's Virgo she is worried about. Father is right, they are softer than any other member of their family.

VIRGO

Their father’s words begin to fall on deaf ears. If they’re being honest, they don’t fully understand the concept of a legacy. They’ve heard the word thrown around so carelessly their entire lives that it’s begun to lose all meaning, absent the ambition they’re sure it’s supposed to ignite in them. With Diose, they can see how someone might pin their hopes on her to make them proud. They don’t give themselves the same credit—and for good reason. All the time and money in the world wasn’t enough for Ma to make them who she wanted them to be, a fact she’s begrudgingly accepted. Virgo isn’t surprised to learn their father can’t handle that.

 Virgo’s eyes widen and they push to sitting, angled instinctively toward Diose.  As if they’d stand a chance at sparing either of them this lecture. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” they snap. The tangled mess of rage, and pain, and fear they’ve tended since the hijack flares once again. “That’s—it’s— nothing to do with you.”

“Everything you do, either of you, reflects upon my name. There are eyes everywhere, children, do not think that any of your pathetic attempts at stealth render them blind. Money won’t buy their silence forever. What do you think happens when people begin to question why my daughter has been seen cavorting with some middle-district victor? When they question our loyalties?"

DIOSE

Instinctively, Diose grabs Virgo's hands. For support, and in case she needs to squeeze it so let them know it's time to shut up. Their father isn't the one to give up. And the angrier they make him, the worse the consequences will be. As much as she'd like to properly fight the man and get rid of him at once, Diose still needs him. And he is too powerful. And maybe, she is scared, fearful of what the man could do to her since she's not his blood. Both of her parents have always emphasized how powerful Valey blood is and how lucky she is that they rescued her from Ten. She doesn't doubt her father would be quick to turn on her now that his brainwashing has stopped working on her. Virgo is his biological child, which she sees as an advantage over her.

He says eyes are everywhere and Diose feels like throwing up. She knows this, obviously. Both Virgo and her do as they've been confronted with footage of their wrongdoings before. It was easy to deal with it back then just because Pista wasn't involved. Diose can only guess Virgo feels the same way given how protective they've been of their crush for months. "My loyalties are in the right place. Can you say the same, father? You seem to be losing allies while we've gained new ones. Regardless of who they are, you have always said there is strength in number, have you not?" It's a stupidly dangerous reply, but she is tired and won't have him hurt Pista. Her own self is fair game, but he is out of the question.

"Alliance?" An horrid, sarcastic chuckle fills the air. "Clearly your mother didn't do a proper job teaching you where your priorities should be. And you," he turns towards Virgo, eyes filled with rage. "It has everything to do with me. Defy me again and not even your mother will be able to save you from my rage. Neither will your sister or the fools you two have been sharing your time and beds with."

-------------------------------

We are headcanoning the rest because writing that man is exhausting, so bear with us.

Virgo and Diose continue arguing with their father. To give y'all some context, Minos keeps blackmail worthy footage of his kids. He is a producer and in charge of the propaganda you see everywhere, so he is omniscient. He has done this since they were both children and hasn't stopped. If anything, he has more of a reason to keep tabs on them now. He continues berating them about their recent choices and who they let his friends and colleagues see them with. By now it is pretty obvious Blythe and Pista are on his shitlist and he doesn't want them near his children. But do Virgo and Diose care? No.

When he implies he intends knows more than be is letting them know, the Valey siblings rightfully start worrying since if the man has managed to acquire footage of them on the trains, they're fucked. Diose is able to pretend she still has everything under control, but Virgo starts shaking.

Anyway, Minos grabs both Diose and Virgo and drags them towards the main hall. His intention is to take them home so he can fully unleash his fury without anyone seeing him, but Virgo and Diose are saved by the bell. Well, the rebel announcement. Everything is chaos. Virgo completely freezes. It reminds them of past announcements so they don't even react. Thankfully they got Diose who as we know is quick on her feet so she takes advantage of their circumstances, grabs Virgo, and heads straight towards her suite.

The spent the rest of the night having what is probably the most fucked up sleepover party you could ever imagine. Dioses tries her best to comfort Virgo while Virgo tries to fix Diose's cheek but they're both in such a weird state of mind they just stay up talking until they're so exhausted they pass out on Diose's bed.

[daddystevee]

The Only Exception

(Steve Harrington x reader)

Bleh i feel like this has potential but like i feel like i absolutely butchered it.. :( but i redeemed myself in the end i think. Heh were gonna pretend that Paramore was a thing in the 80s because why the fuck not. This fic was written with the help of tiktok aus and The Only Exception by paramore heh.

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: a few curse words, a small panic attack situation, mention of a gun, and lots of angst spelling and bad grammar??

Summary: an AU in which everyone has a soulmate, on your 20th birthday a number pops up on your wrist telling you how far away you are from them. Reader has a hard time with love and believing in good things associated with love.

><

Soulmates are a tricky thing. Growing up you were told that soulmates are supposed to be someone that just gets you. A connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It was about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side. 

But in reality, soulmates were determined by a couple of numbers that would pop on your wrists, telling you how far apart the two of you were on your 20th birthday. You weren’t sure who came up with the idea, but you hoped they realized how dumb it was. Sometimes there were people who really wouldn’t ever find their other half.

When you were younger, you never really realized how much your parents would argue. But what you did notice was that your mom and dad’s numbers on their wrists weren’t at 0 or at least in the lower single digits, your moms was 358 and your dads was 690. Meaning that they weren’t really soulmates, just two people who put up with each other's bullshit for no reason. Making you believe that you didn’t necessarily need your soulmate to be “happy”.

As you got older, you started to see the major flaws in your parents relationship. Your parents were constantly yelling at each other for no reason. Everything changed the day your father pulled a gun on both you and your mother. After that, your mother packed up everything the two of you had and ran, as far away as she could with your father constantly knowing how far away you were. 

From that day forward, you vowed to never let your guard down. Never letting yourself fall in love and to forever believe that no matter what number popped up on your wrist, soulmates didn’t exist.

><

After running from your biological father for what seemed like years, the two of you ended up in a boring little town called Hawkins, Indiana. Where you would start your life over for the first time at the age of 12. Over the next 5 years you would learn that Hawkins was not a boring town because at the beginning of your junior year of high school, at 17 years old you would get sucked into this dark place that looked just like home, but it wasn’t.

You somehow survive, running from a scary creature that would open its face and eat anything in its path. No matter what you did, it seemed like you could never run away from this thing. You would experience this insane encounter alongside a 12 year old, who you would learn is named Will Byers. After what felt like months you would finally be rescued. 

You would eventually go back to school to finish out your junior year of high school, but not without making friends with Will and a bunch of other 12 year olds. Along with the kids came automatic friendships with the older siblings as well, including Steve.

A year after your first experience with the Upside Down everything was fine and normal, you thought that it was all over. Boy were you wrong, Will started to have these visions of the alternate universe the two of you had been trapped in.

You were fine but knew this creature and that world better than anyone else, so as much as you really didn’t want to, you opted to help out as much as you could staying close to the other kids and really just making sure that they were safe. They were your family after all. 

As the battle went on you grew closer to Steve Harrington, learning to call him your best friend. He was the only one who you knew well enough and could get you to open up and let your guard down a little bit, but you had to tough it out because you made a promise to yourself and you had to keep it. You couldn’t take that risk. The boy had some sort of soft spot in your heart and you refused to believe it and would never let anyone know about it.

><

May 29th, 1985 was a sad day for everyone, it was the day you would be moving away from everything you had. All of the kids, Nancy, Jonathan, and your best friend Steve. Steve, the boy who you had grown up beside, the boy you fought inter-dimensional monsters with.

You were driving across the country to go to the University of Southern California. Saying that this wasn’t an easy choice would be a lie. You knew exactly what you were doing, running away from your fears, that was all you knew how to do but you knew that if you didn’t leave now you would never get out of there. You always have to put your safety and mental health first, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“Promise you’ll call every day?” Steve asks you, pulling you into a hug. 

“Only if you promise to answer.” you say with a sad laugh, you never planned on ever calling home.

>< 

Here you were, in Los Angeles, California. 2,105 miles away from home. An entire year later and you still hadn’t called home, if that's what you would even call it. You refused to associate yourself with that place ever again and had completely wiped that section of your life from your memories. A voice in the back of your mind was constantly calling you back, but you always ignored it.You were starting your life completely over for the second time, at 19 years old, in California. You lived in a two bedroom apartment with your new best friend and her ‘soulmate’. While you were happy for them, you couldn’t help but be jealous of their happiness.

><

It was your 20th birthday, and you had no plan on looking to see how far your soulmate was from you. You didn’t care, all soulmate’s were shit and ‘happily ever after’s’ didn’t actually exist. You planned on just getting drunk with your friend and forgetting about life for a night.

“So I was thinking we could go to a karaoke bar tonight? How does that sound?” your best friend Logan asked you walking out of her and her boyfriend’s shared room

“I mean I suck at singing but-”

“Yeah, but being drunk makes everyone a great singer” 

“I guess so. Just us right?” you asked, while Logan and her boyfriend were cute you honestly hated third wheeling it always made you feel some sort of way. Jealous maybe?

“Of course! Now let's get you ready! You never know you might just bump into someone special” she says wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” you say unamused, rolling your eyes while walking off to your room to get ready.

><

“Come on Y/N, you’ve gotta sing at least one song while we're here.” your best friend slurred while pulling you along behind her, obviously too drunk for her own good. You ended up not drinking as much as you had planned, but the two of you had to get home somehow.

“I’m not drunk enough, you might be but I am most certainly...” but before you could object anymore she had already chosen a song and shoved a microphone in your hand pushing you onto the stage. “.. what the fuck? I don’t even know what song this is?”

“Yes you do! I hear you singing it in your room all hours of the night..” she says stumbling off into the crowd. 

The beginning chords to the song start to play over the speakers and you know exactly what song it is. You looked down at the microphone in your hand and refused to look up at the audience, yet the words came out of your mouth naturally, as easy as breathing. No one truly knew your story, except one person. That person was Steve Harrington. The one who always brought butterflies to your stomach even though you told yourself that this was wrong. 

“Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul, that love never lasts.”

You had beat yourself up over it for months, you refused to let him get in the way. You were never going to be happy, that was just how this worked. 

“But you are, the only exception”

Maybe there were exceptions in the world and you just weren’t lucky enough to believe in that shit. 

“You are, the only exception”

Something in your gut told you to look up at the crowd and expected to look for Logan among all of the people. 

“You are, the only exception”

What you didn’t expect to see was a familiar set of brown eyes looking at you from the back of the room.

“You are, the only exception”

You suddenly felt like it was impossible to breathe but you were still singing out the words from your heart. 

“Oh, and I'm on my way to believing.”

As you sang the last words of the song you dropped the mic, making a break for the side exit door, not thinking about your drunk friend at this moment. You just had to get out of there without having to talk to him. You didn’t get very far before you felt a hand grab onto your wrist,

“Let go of me!” you tried to jerk away from him but his grip was strong. You turned to him and attempted to pull his hand off of your wrist all while avoiding his eyes. “What’s your problem?” you ask frustrated.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem?” he says, you stop trying to pull away and he lets go of your arm you could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face. “You left, and none of us heard from you for a year. The kids literally thought you were dead.”

“Yeah well-” you say with a shrug but are suddenly at a loss for words.

“Yeah well what? You promised you’d call. I waited and waited and waited for months and got nothing.” he says, and without looking at him you could tell that he was really upset about it.

“Well…” you say while thinking of a bullshit excuse, “I suck at keeping promises, so I don’t know why you’d hold me to it.”

“Promises?” he scoffs, “You suck at keeping promises? Yet keep an eight year promise to yourself?”

“That’s different.”

“Y/N, you've made plenty of promises to me in the past and always kept them. I don’t know what was so different about this one. All you had to do was make one simple phone call.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to call you. Did you think about that? Maybe I wanted nothing to do with you guys again!” you yell at him, “How the hell did you find me anyways?”

It went completely silent. You could hear a pen drop in the parking lot.

“I- I don’t really think that, that's important..”

“Steve, how the hell did you find me?” you ask finally looking up at him for the first time in a year.

“Well, I know where you moved to.. Because you know you told me what college you were going to before you left.” 

“Yes, but how did you know exactly where to find me?”

Steve reaches down to pull up his sleeves of his jean jacket to show you the numbers on his wrist. You refuse to look at it, continuing to look up at his face shaking your head in denial.

“No, there’s no way. It’s not possible.” 

“Have you looked at your wrist yet today?”

“No, I told myself that it wasn’t important and that it didn’t matter.”

“Look at it then.” he says grabbing your hand. But as he does this you quickly pull your hand away from him. grabbing onto your wrist.

The voice in the back of your head tells you not to do it, but your heart says otherwise. For whatever reason you listen to your heart for the first time in a while and slowly pull up the mesh material that was covering your arms. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but when you know you’ve got your wrist uncovered you open your eyes and look down. Tears are suddenly streaming down your face, sure enough there was a perfectly placed ‘0’ on both of your wrists. 

“No- soulmates they- they aren’t real.” you start to stutter over your words “This isn’t going to work. I know how this ends, and it’s not good.” you start to hyperventilate thinking about your parents. Knowing that everything went wrong and there was no good to this. 

Steve places his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, “Hey, relax. It's okay, you're going to be okay.” He slowly pulled you into a hug.

“Is this- a dream?” you ask in between short breaths pulling him closer to you.

“It kinda feels like it but no, it's not.” he says resting his chin on top of your head.

The two of you stood there for a few moments taking in this new feeling. 

“I’m tired of running.”

“Then stop running, and walk.”

“But what if I stumble and fall?”

“Then, I’‘ll be there to catch you.”

After that night you ended up leaving USC and transferring to a local college near right outside of Hawkins. The kids were ecstatic to see you when you got home, pulling you in for a giant group hug.

“Don’t you ever leave us like that again.” Mike says to you  

“Yeah, we thought you died!” Dustin says dramatically squeezing you tighter.

“Well, I can promise you one thing right now.” you say looking to Steve, letting a small smile fall onto your lips, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

“Steve, how did you find her?” Lucas asks as he pulls away. Steve looks at you and you both bull up your sleeves showing them your numbers being at ‘0’ and they all look between the two of you.

“Ewwww, they’re sOuLmAtEs” Dustin yells out, a taller dirty blond walks over and smacks him on the back of the head. 

“Shut up Dufus, let Dingus have his moment.” the girl says already knowing the story

“I don’t know who you are, but I love you already.”

“I’m Robin” she says sticking out her hand, but you were the happiest you had been in a long time so you just reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m Y/N.” everyone stood there looking at the two of you before bursting into a fit of giggles, which turned into pointless laughter, making everyone double over.

Everyone’s story was different, and there was a lot of work to be done on yours but Steve was going to be there every step of the way. To show you that not everything was perfect, but everyone had their chance at a ‘happily ever after’.

[avatarnao]

A Million Dreams CH. 5

Pairing: Zukka, Kataang

Soulmate AU, College AU, Roommate AU

First, Previous, Next

A03

******

After the initial shock seems to wear off, Suki and Aang manage to wrangle Katara, Sokka, and Toph into their seats. Toph can’t seem to stop laughing and Sokka won’t stop staring at Zuko like he’s grown a second head. Katara won’t stop glaring. Aang seems to be halfheartedly trying to talk her out of committing murder in broad daylight.

Zuko wouldn’t mind any of this so much. In fact, he’d be completely okay with ignoring their presence while he works. If only Jin hadn’t sat them at the only open table left in his section. Now he has to talk to them and interact with everyone and Sokka still won’t stop staring at him.  

He disappears into the safety of the kitchen, if only to have a moment to himself. Unfortunately, his uncle never seems to leave the room, busy making tea and treats for everyone. Zuko huffs and stalks past his uncle to the back door. Iroh’s worried inquiry goes ignored as the door slams shut behind him.

Out behind the teashop, away from customers and his uncle’s prying questions, he can actually think a little. So… Sokka, his roommate, is apparently the same Sokka Aang mentioned in the few times he came to practice with Katara. He’s not sure if he should feel guilty for not picking up on the names… then again, he also didn’t want to assume everyone from the Southern Water Tribe knew each other… or were related. Sokka could’ve been a common name and maybe that’s just how he justified it.

Only Sokka and Katara are related and Katara hates his guts. Zuko presses his back against the wall and slides to the ground with a groan. Of course she would hate him, and he doesn’t exactly blame her but… Sokka’s never said anything about his sister. He’s definitely never mentioned being friends with the avatar of all people.

…

Has Sokka ever mentioned knowing the avatar? No… no, he’s sure he’d remember something like that.

Why doesn’t Sokka hate him for nearly hitting his sister? Surely, she told him about that… but Toph is also their friend apparently. Maybe she vouched for him? No… that’s dumb. Why would she do that?

And then he just… walked away…. Shit… why did he just walk away? What if they complain about him being rude? Uncle doesn’t need that sort of negativity….  

No… that’s stupid. They definitely won’t complain to Uncle of all people. Besides, the tea is already free to students.

Zuko blinks, frowning. How… how does Sokka know about this event? Wasn’t it only meant for his uncle’s students?

“Oh, Agni, ” he hisses, eyes going wide. Does that mean Sokka’s taking his uncle’s class? No wonder Sokka was giving him funny looks… wait, no… maybe he doesn’t know they’re related yet. Maybe Sokka isn’t even in his class. It could just as easily be Toph or Katara or Suki…. Only… what if they’re all taking the class together?

He jumps to his feet at the thought. If none of them know, they sure as fuck are about to find out. Especially if Uncle decides to venture over to the table. Which he most likely will the moment someone tells him the avatar is visiting.

The door swings open just as he steps up to it, smacking him in the face.

“Oh, nephew,” he hears his uncle say. “ There you are.” Zuko glowers at the man, rubbing his cheek. The smile on Uncle’s face drops. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing…” he grumbles. “Did you need something?” Uncle hums thoughtfully, perking up as he seems to remember what he came outside for.

“Oh, yes,” he replies. “I’ve been told the avatar is joining us today. You must come and meet him!” Zuko hesitates. He hesitates because the avatar is hanging out at the exact table he’s trying to will out of existence. Maybe he can just force himself to throw up and go home for the day. That would probably be rude though and he can’t do that to his uncle after everything the man’s done for him.

Zuko reluctantly follows his uncle back inside. They pause in the kitchen to load up a couple trays with food and tea, then head out to the dining area.

Toph’s howling laughter greets them as they step out of the kitchen. Sokka’s hunch over with his face pressed into the table. Zuko eyes him, curious as to what transpired but remains quiet. Uncle perks up the moment he takes in everyone sitting with Aang.

“Suki! Sokka! What a pleasure to see you here!” Uncle greets. Zuko swallows a groan. Of course those two would be in the class. He quietly sets the tray of food on the table and begins helping Uncle serve tea. Suki’s watching him with a sort of smug amusement as he places a cup in front of her.

“Is he your uncle?” she asks, mirth glinting in her eyes. Zuko stares at her for a long moment and he just knows . Suki must know too because she smiles softly and says, “Thank you for the hot leaf juice.”

“ Uncle ,” he hisses, turning on the man. Said uncle just gives him a sheepish look as Zuko presses on. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” That seems to knock Sokka out of whatever dilemma he was having. He slams his hands on the table and looks between Zuko and his professor like they’ve both grown an extra head. Okay so maybe Sokka’s crisis is still ongoing.

“ You’re his nephew?” Sokka snaps, voice loud enough for the whole shop to hear.

“Honestly, Sokka,” Katara scoffs. “Do you know anything about the person you’re living with?”

“ Me? ” Sokka retorts, turning on his sister. “How did you not know Zuko was my roommate? It’s not exactly a common name!” Zuko wants to argue that he’s standing right here, but decides against it as the siblings launch into a passionate argument. Instead he continues giving everyone tea. He wants to argue that he probably should have known too considering Katara’s brought Sokka up at least once. He didn’t want to just assume though, that everyone from the Southern Water Tribe was related…. Or that they knew each other.

“Oh yes,” Aang is saying by the time Zuko gets around to him. The avatar and his uncle are deeply engrossed in a conversation of their own. Aang takes the offered cup with a grateful smile as he says, “Katara’s my soulmate so I’m staying here with her while she’s in school and travelling when I need to.”

Once all the tea is passed out, Zuko quickly makes his exit under the guise of tending to another table. He spends approximately ten minutes checking on other customers and filling orders when Toph loudly calls him back over. Doing his best to conceal a grimace, Zuko drags himself back over to the one table he’s been avoiding as much as possible.

Toph’s giving him a shit-eating grin by the time he comes to a stop at the table.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asks. Toph pulls out an empty seat and gives it a pat.

“Iroh says you’re on break now, so have a seat.” He stares at the seat, then at Toph. Back to the seat, and then at everyone else around the table. Katara still looks like she wants to murder him but that’s not exactly new.

“Um…” He glances over toward the kitchen. “Let me just check with him first…” And leaves before anyone (Toph) can force him into the seat.

Sure enough, his uncle insists he go spend the afternoon with his friends. Zuko reluctantly agrees to the break, unable to stop the feelings of guilt from weighing on him. He’s supposed to be working today, not having tea with practical strangers. Well… Sokka’s not a stranger. He’s probably the closest to friend out of any of them, and Toph and Katara are his teammates… and Aang would probably be sad if Zuko didn’t consider him a friend. Not that Aang would say anything about it, but he’d be sad deep down and that just makes Zuko feel even more guilty. Okay, and Suki is definitely a sort of friend. They spend enough time together during meals and study sessions for it to count, right?

Now that he’s thinking about it, Katara might be the only questionable one at the table.

Giving himself over to his fate, Zuko returns to the table and takes a tentative seat between Toph and Aang. Katara sits next to Aang and next to her is Sokka, then Suki. Sokka slouches in his seat, stirring his tea with a pout on his face. Zuko gives Suki a questioning look but she just smiles and shakes her head.

“Sokka’s just upset because he didn’t know you were such a talented bender,” Aang explains easily. He leans closer, shielding his mouth with his hand. “You know, because roommates don’t keep secrets or whatever.” Zuko frowns. He wants to argue that he’s not really that good. Wants to tell them he knows of others who are far more talented than he’ll ever be. His sister is a prodigy for Agni’s sake.

“I guess it just never came up,” he says instead. “But it’s only because I learned from the best.”

“Well it just so happens that Aang needs a firebending master to teach him,” Katara chimes in. “So if you could point us in their direction that would be great.”

“I don’t think he’s taking new students right now…”

“Oh,” Katara scoffs. “So he’ll teach you but he’s too good to teach the Avatar?”

“It’s okay, Katara,” Aang replies. “I’ve already spoken with Zuko’s teacher and he’s a little busy at the moment.” He perks up. “In fact, he suggested someone who should be just as good. I’m going to see him in the morning.”

“When did this happen?” Katara asks.

“Just a little while ago, when Iroh was over here he-”

“ Iroh taught you?” Katara turns her attention back to Zuko with a strange look on her face. Sokka scoffs, waving her question away.

“Of course he did,” Sokka says. “Iroh is his uncle. Why wouldn’t he teach Zuko?”

“He runs a teashop, " Katara points out. Toph snorts, and sits up in her seat.

“Don’t you know anything?” she asks. “Or are you too low class for something like that?” Katara gasps and slams her hands down on the table. All the dishes on the table rattle dangerously. Zuko quickly reaches into the center and stops the teapot from falling over. His uncle would be upset if such a valuable set were to break. Zuko doesn’t even know why he uses such fragile tea sets to begin with, and at this point there’s no point in asking. Only he’s turning back into the conversation and Toph’s still talking.

“Iroh is very well respected in the upper crusts of society,” she says. “He’s from a very well respected family in the Fire Nation. You might have heard of them in fact since he-” Something jumps into Zuko’s throat, and he’s leaping from the table before he knows it. Anxiety spikes through him, fear sending sparks of electricity into his fingertips.

“Toph,” he snaps, voice pitched high and far too tight to come off as anything less than tension. “I think my uncle wanted to see you in the kitchen.” He shoves the teapot toward her. “Would you mind getting us a refill while you’re there too?”

“Fine.” She snatches the teapot from his hand, and pulls him close. “But just so you know, I can tell when people are lying.” He watches her stomp away from the table, trying in vain to steady his racing heart.

“Uh… Zuko?”

“Sorry,” he snaps, turning back to everyone else. “My uncle just doesn’t like talking about his family is all.”

“Unless it’s about you, right?” Suki teases, grabbing a cookie off a plate.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We’re very close.”

“You should hear the way he talks about you in class,” Sokka adds, grinning a little.

“He’s very proud of you, that’s for sure,” Suki agrees. Zuko finds himself smiling a little despite the near slip.

“I don’t know where I’d be without him,” he confesses, because Uncle helped him through the lowest lows of his life. He was there for Zuko when… everything happened, and he was there for him afterward too.

Eventually, Toph returns with fresh tea and treats for everyone. The conversation turns to lighter things, and even Katara loosens up enough to joke around with Zuko.

By the end, everyone’s leaving with smiles on their faces and Zuko’s returning to work feeling like he’s gotten closer to calling their small group friends.

Despite the rocky start, Zuko would have to say this ended up being a good day.

A really good day.

There’s heat. Heat and fire everywhere. A roaring sound rushes through his ears. He flinches as something flies towards him.

Pain, blinding, sharp, and hot stabs through him. It burns at his flesh, eats away at his mind. He distantly hears the sound of screaming and belatedly realizes it’s him.

The burning fades but the pain doesn’t.

It consumes him until darkness washes over him.

The screaming never stops.

[satonthelotuspier]

Jiang Cheng

The Boy Who Couldn’t Please Everyone - or - The Boy Who Was Failed by Everyone.

So, the absolute core of Jiang Cheng’s existence is his family; there’s not much arguing that he and Jiang Yanli are the same in that respect.

And the theme of his life is being pulled in myriad directions by myriad people for their own ends. No one ever just let Jiang Cheng be Jiang Cheng, until maturity made him his own man, and by that point he was a bitter, twisted version of himself who had gone through too much.

From the moment Wei Wuxian came into their lives Lotus Pier was shaped to accommodate him. We all know Jiang Cheng loved his dogs, but Wei Wuxian was scared of them, so they had to go, I don’t need to explain to pet owners/animal people how heartbreaking this would have been, especially to a small child, he had to share his bedroom, his private safe space, and his father showered Wei Wuxian with the affection and attention and regard that he never ever seemed to give to Jiang Cheng, his own son.

I’m not for even a second saying that Jiang Fengmian shouldn’t show affection for Wei Wuxian, it’s entirely possible to love someone not of your own blood as you do your own child, but if you don’t give the same attention and regard to your own child just because of the woman whose womb bore him, (if we believe what Yu Ziyuan accuses him of), then you’re a pretty shitty parent. Perhaps we should take what an estranged wife says with a pinch of salt, but in the end Jiang Cheng still felt like his own father didn’t love him as much as Wei Wuxian, which means he was a failure as a parent. 

Jiang Cheng is unarguably emotionally insecure, probably as a direct result of his parent’s marriage and their attutides to him.

Basically Wei Wuxian’s arrival was the start of a lifetime cycle of loss, always linked back to Wei Wuxian, starting with his pets and his own father.

And despite this Jiang Cheng undoubtedly loved this usurper like a brother. They grew up together and to all intents and purposes Wei Wuxian was his brother, just not by blood, and therefore under his protection. “If there are any dogs, I’ll chase them away for you” - even though he had to give his own dogs away because of this cuckoo in the nest he was still willing to protect him with everything he had.

He grew up in a tight knit sibling trio, but he also grew up being the bone of contention between his parents; YZY would accuse JFM of being more of a father to the child of his friends than his own son, to the point that people questioned whether WWX was JFM’s, and she said this time and time again in front of her own son. Way to screw him up, parents.

He was basically a weapon she used against her husband, who, instead of dealing with her and protecting his son from being so used, virtually ignored her and let her continue, only ever coming to WWX’s defence and never questioning what damage was being caused to JC. 

So YZY constantly filled Jiang Cheng’s mind with poison and tried to turn him against Wei Wuxian, a boy he loved like his own brother; he was a trouble causer, he would hurt the sect, he would hurt JC’s future and he had to listen to his mother tear WWX to pieces, watch her bully WWX, and whenever he tried to defend him JC was shouted down and hey, you have to listen to your mother, be a filial son and shut up.

Is there any wonder this kid didn’t know which way his head was screwed on when he was piggy in the middle of this hate triangle? He was literally pulled three ways in his own family before he even got out into the wider world.

Lets go to Cloud Recesses. JC was boring, being the voice of reason, trying to spoil WWX’s fun with his constant talk of the rules and not upsetting the Lans.

Well of course, as the Jiang heir he had to be. He understood he was under a weight of expectation and had to be seen to behave in a certain way; he was representing his sect and any shenanigans reflect badly on Yunmeng Jiang. WWX had much more freedom to cause hijinks as the head disciple, not a Jiang by blood, and lets face it JFM would only ever apologise, not scold, no matter what he got up to. If we examine what WWX said, something along the lines of “You’ve already buried my corpse so many times, whats once more?” we see while JC might have occasionally gotten dragged into WWX’s schemes he was also the one to have to apologise for him, to mop up after him. He’s the younger brother and he always had to be the adult on behalf of them both because thats just WWX, what a little scamp eh? WWX just does what WWX wants. If only JC had that freedom.

He loves WWX like a brother, but there’s no wonder he’s so jealous of the other, being better without trying, automatically handed all the things JC should have gotten too, it would be fair to think there would be a small part of JC that hated WWX’s guts, even in their teens.

We all know how the story progresses, and the loss the trio suffers, the culling of the Jiang sect, JYL’s tragic death, but lets discuss one of the hidden things WWX could be considered to have stolen from him.

His sacrifice.

Lets be under no illusions, Jiang Cheng was fully aware what he did when he drew the Wen guards away from WWX in Yiling; he was sacrificing his own life to protect his brother, a brother who had already taken so much from him; but he still loved to the point of being willing to die for him. He expected nothing but death but Wei Wuxian ruined it all and even one-upped him by rescuing him half-dead and sacrificing his golden core. He hadn’t even been allowed to outshine his brother in his greatest moment of self-sacrifice.

If WWX had told the truth at that point, shared what had happened with his golden core JC would have been hurt, but likely he would have gotten over it; and you have to wonder would the other sects have been able to drive a wedge between them if he’d had the full facts of how indebted he was to WWX, and WQ.

Instead he didn’t understand, JC was still being pulled all ways by all people for their own purposes, the sect leaders were whispering in his ear about WWX and the Wens, playing on his grief and his hatred. 

Lets not forget he wasn’t much more than a child at this point who’d never had to stand on his own, used to trying to keep the peace between his parents, surrounded by men manipulating him for their own ends. He was the young  sect leader of a regenerating sect, and big shots like Jin Guangshan were tutting and theorising what foul deeds the Yiling Patriarch was up to at the Burial Mounds, backed up by the baying mob, and no one saw JGS’s secret agenda for what it was, and they put this young man, who had no support whatsoever, under so much pressure to ditch his shixiong was there any surprise he caved in in the end? He was a grieving, lonely kid who had always been part of a trio or a duo, and he was on his own.

He absolutely should have stood by WWX, we all agree with that, but  conversely WWX never stood by JC, his account was settled with the golden core; he didn’t need to stay and help him rebuild Yunmeng Jiang like he promised because, pat on the back, he’d already given JC so much, job done, account settled. WWX is about the big gestures, gotta save the world, the little things don’t matter, like promises and family. It was even WWX’s selfishness, not wanting to have to deal with JC knowing, that kept the information of his golden core from him.

So yes, JC spent most of his life trying to please everyone, meet everyones expectations of him, from his parents and his brother, to the other sect leaders, basically to be used by most every one of them.

And he was equally failed by everyone. His parents, instead of nuturing him, used him to hurt each other, WWX took and took from him until there was nothing left, lied to him and kept him in the dark about something so hugely important because he couldn’t be bothered to deal with JC knowing, even his sister deserted him; and the sect leaders who should have supported him and been the voices of reason, who could have mentored him, like Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, seem to have disconnected their righteous brains for this entire period of the story.

Thank goodness for Jin Ling, or else JC would have ended up with nothing.

[metanoia-adventures]

Big Rant read at your own risk lmao

Homophobia tw

You know… this year has really put some things into perspective for me, and because of that, I have decided to make one of my New Years resolutions to be truer to myself and become more authentic to who I am.  One aspect of that is watching/reading/ and listening to more LGBT+ related media- even though I watch them with an open eye and eye on the door because…. This kind of content isn’t welcome in my house.  Despite that fear, I love the content, I do. But I have realized that the problem with consuming more of this type of media is the… the ache that now follows me.  I hate it because it was easier to ignore parts of me that doesn’t “fit” with my family’s ideals. It was easier to accept that I am part of a community that derives from the “norm” while also acting like it isn’t as big of a part of my identity ass it really is.  It was easier to act like my mothers refusal to accept or acknowledge that I am different doesn’t hurt.  

But as I realize I have been repressing my wlw side of identity, it does nothing but make me sadder because I can’t come out. Not fully. Not while I live with my parents. Thought, fuck knows I’ve tried.  I told my mother I was biromantic when I was 15.  Five years ago.  And she told me it was wrong. That I didn’t know what I was talking about because I was too young.  I’ve known since I was 13. Before I came out to her (and accidentally at that), I had brought books about LGBT+ teens from the library to learn more about it for obvious reasons. However, I guess she had finally had enough and yelled at me for bringing them into our house and ordered me to never speak about it to my sisters because it was nothing but propaganda and an illness, essentially. Since then she has continuously ignore the fact that I’m bi, and when I had the guts to make a passing comment eluding to my attraction to girls she would scoff and rolls her eyes. (though I told one of my sisters and now she’s way too supportive and it makes me uncomfortable, but she means wells so I don’t say anything)

And my father… my father is straight up homophobic. The mere thought of coming out to him terrifies me because I have heard him spew slurs against gay people since I was a child. He says the word “gay” like it’s something disgraceful and disgusting. This man easily and often uses the f word. Coming out to him would be disastrous because he could stop me from seeing my sisters. He could kick me out and leave me to pay for school on my own.

Because of my parents, I have done this odd thing in accepting that I am biromantic, but for the most part denying my attraction to women.  And it’s helped keep me sane in terms of surviving under this household. But… with this new year’s resolution I’m realizing that I have not been happy for a long time.  The my attraction to women might be greater than my attraction to men which makes me more upset because it means another confusing mess of figuring out who I am yet again. And I’m just.. I’m tired.  I’m so tired.  I’ve spent the past few days feeling like a fist is constricting my lungs and heart, and the urge to start crying being a near constant feeling. Because fucking hell I to be open who I love. I  want a girlfriend.  I want a close-knit group of friends that gets it.  I want I want I want.  I want so many things, most of which I logically know take time, and that I only have a few months left under this household before I go off to college to get my bachelors, but it still hurts.  I watch these LGBT+ movies where the main character comes out and it’s nothing but support, and they’ve got their community and friends and partners, and accepting parents, and I just sit here, so incredibly happy for these characters, but at the same time absolutely heartbroken that I don’t, and can’t, have that.

I have one irl friend, and she lives- when she’s not at her parents- 4 hours away, and we’re not even that close! All of my online friends are amazing, and if you read this, please know that I love you, but.. I’m lonely.  I’m so lonely and I can’t even go out and meet people because there is a pandemic and where would I go? I’m new to the area. I’m leaving overseas in a few months.  What’s the point?  I mean, I’ve got my sister, but she’s 14.  I can’t talk to her about a lot of stuff because I don’t want to weigh her down with my problems and concerns and worries.  

I recently re-watched Love, Simon, and the scene when Simon’s mom talks to him about him being gay…. It had me biting my lip so hard I almost bled because I was trying not to start ugly sobbing, because my mother would never accept me like that.  She won’t. And it hurts. It hurts so much because I love her. And I’m so close to her despite her homophobia and refusal to accept me.

I just… what happens if I one day get a girlfriend?  Are my parents going to disown me? Are they going to make it to where I can’t see my sisters?  The thought of never being allowed to see my sisters terrifies me.  Maybe it’s part of the oldest sister/sibling syndrome but Christ I love those kids and I am so worried about how it’ll be for them when I leave for college and I just… I’m a fucking mess of emotions.  

I don’t know what the point of this post is, I really don’t, but I needed the release of writing this and sharing it with… anyone. I don’t want pity. i know I’m pathetic. But I’m once again 3 seconds away from crying and can’t even do that because I have to act like I’m perfectly fine in front of my family.  But I’m not, I know that now.  I’m sorry for wasting your time if you made it to this paragraph.  

[neist]

TUA Season 2 rambling

This turned out really long, but I had to get this out.

So, rant or at least mental splurge required, I think, to try and get my head straight. About a fucking telly show that somehow matters more to me than real life right now. Because I don’t actually have a LIFE and instead live through the characters I vibe with. Which means it truly fucks me up, to the point of fighting back tears for days, even weeks, and being unable to function as anything remotely comparable to an actual human adult when THEY get fucked up.

Case in point, Ben and Klaus Hargreeves. I was LOVING season 2 for the first 6 eps. I was laughing with it, and engrossed in it, and having warm fuzzies about the sibling interactions, and Vanya and Sissy, and loving Vanya being so caring of Harlan and actually getting to have feelings other than anger and misery for once. Mr Chestnut? Yes, please- wonderful man and an absolute joy to watch him and Allison (the perfect woman). Civil rights movement? Awe inspiring and terrifying and horrific to think of what these people went through. Lila? Honestly, I really liked her, and enjoyed her scenes with Diego- I even continued to enjoy her character right through the whole Mother Gethel arc- after all, if we can see past the Hargreeves’ faults, directly resulting from them being raised by an emotionless, abusive, manipulative monster, surely Lila deserves the same consideration? She’s fucked up, and selfish, and doesn’t know how to relate to people except on a frivolous or murderous basis, but she was taking baby steps towards being better because she honestly loves Diego. Yes, it’s a selfish love, but he opened her eyes to actually thinking about someone else for the first time in her life, and you could see her actually starting to think about that.

Luther and Diego bonding and treating each other like human beings- yes. Luther and Five showing respect and concern for each other- I’ll have even more of that, please. Allison and Klaus hugging and laughing and drinking and dancing and just being tender and thoughtful towards each other- hell yes, especially when Vanya gets invited in like she always should have been.

Ben and Klaus snarking at each other and having a slap fight in the middle of a dusty road? Totally on brand and in character and funny as hell. That’s what siblings do (I know, I’m a middle child with NOTHING in common with my older sister)- we snark, and snipe and delight in watching them lose face. We give them that good old slap they’re sooo asking for, and have a good laugh about it when they realise, OK, yes, they really WERE being a dick. But as infuriating as they may be we still love them. We might trip them on their face out of spite, but there are limits to how much we can hurt them before the glee wears off and we rush to reassure and comfort them. And that’s where this season really let me down. It’s like Klaus and Ben are out to actually rip each other’s guts out. It’s not just brotherly ribbing, or even spiteful jibes, it’s not even just “done with your shit” apathy. Klaus telling their siblings that Ben isn’t there could be an amusing payback for Ben’s earlier shit with the poker game and with Dave, if it was just a temporary thing. But to cut off Ben’s only hope of interacting with his family, who only recently realised he was even still around, smirking all the while and with no intention of relenting, is a really nasty abuse of power. It’s purposefully hurtful and completely out of proportion. Yes, I know Klaus is a selfish ass, but he’s always been compassionate, and that seems to have completely gone, at least in relation to Ben.

And then there’s the possession. We knew it was coming, thankfully- that coming out of the blue would have just floored me. Yep, Klaus is still being an asshole, no doubt about it- here’s a perfect opportunity to relent and do the right thing and he’s still ignoring Ben and making out that he doesn’t exist despite his clear desperation to just talk to his family, to be acknowledged. Ben has every right to be thoroughly pissed and even spiteful, and I actually have some sympathy with him impulsively taking Klaus over- we can all make stupid decisions in the heat of the moment. But afterwards there’s not a shred of remorse for LITERALLY forcing himself on his brother, taking over his body and denying him his own bodily autonomy. Ben’s positively gleeful at tormenting Klaus with the knowledge that he fully intends to do it again as soon as Klaus is unable to stop him. It’s like the creep at the club who’s been touching your ass all night trapping you alone in the bathroom and gloating about what he’s going to do to you as soon as the club inevitably closes. And it’s played off as COMEDY. I can’t actually articulate just how vile I found that scene of Klaus’s head drooping, and every time he, panicked, jerked awake Ben, all smug and predatory, was a step closer, ready to pounce. What the hell? That was even worse than Ben’s refusal to let Klaus go later on- it showed Ben’s utter disregard for the fact that Klaus REALLY DIDN’T WANT THIS, was in fact fucking terrified of it, and not only did Ben not care about that, he was ENJOYING taunting Klaus with the inevitability of the violation.

I’ve read a few discussions of how Ben, even in season 1, was shown to feel some entitlement to Klaus’s body and life, and though I didn’t see it myself first time through I can see hints of that on rewatching. I guess it shouldn’t be a shock that Ben followed through on that. I just can’t get my head around the same person who understood, and empathised with, Klaus going back to the mausoleum in his head when he was being held and tortured, being so utterly callous towards him in season 2. Even with the provocation of Klaus being a dick, presumably for three whole years, how does the same person who was, just hours later, so caring and warm and self sacrificing towards Vanya, maliciously taunt their brother with the promise of mentally violating him?

I don’t get it, I really don’t. Like I said, I have nothing in common with my sister, and in years gone by we each would have delighted in each other’s pain, and yes, frequently would have caused it. But she’s still my SISTER and I would kill for her if necessary, and I know I can turn to her for anything. If I’m completely honest with myself she’s hurt me more in my life, caused more long term damage during our childhoods than I think even my parents did, but as an adult I’ve still been able to turn to her when I’ve needed her- when I’ve been overwhelmed by depression and unable to trust myself with so much as a butter knife she was the person I called and ended up staying with for days. Maybe that’s what’s bothering me so much about this- after years of making each other’s lives hell as kids we still love each other and will be there, but this is making me feel like I’ve called her for help in a crisis, and she’s just handed me a carving knife and told me “OK, get on with it then.”

And then, as if that wasn’t all enough, while I’m trying to come to terms with these asshole brothers cutting each other to the bone with apparent glee, Ben takes one fleeting glance back at Klaus before sinking into Vanya, showing her so much kindness, understanding and just plain LOVE, being the warmest, more caring brother and making me bubble at the tenderness and love between the two. Right then, when I’m at my most emotionally connected and vulnerable, and wishing he and Klaus could show each other an ounce of that empathy and consideration, right then is when he starts to fragment, and I KNOW the makers intended for us all to fragment right along with him, but it’s been three fucking days and I can’t stop crying. I mean that literally. I can’t work, I can’t clean or cook, I don’t even want to eat, I can’t concentrate on anything without that damn scene playing out again and I just want to scream, especially thinking about damn Sparrow Ben and his snarky emo face, ‘cos that’s not Ben and I feel like one of my best friends has just died, only I’m not allowed to mourn ‘cos it’s a fucking TV character and how stupid and pathetic can a person be to get this upset about a character dying on a TV show, but I’m sorry I don’t have a fucking life and this feels real to me, and I hate it.

[punkscowardschampions]

Amelia & Jac

Amelia: My mum heard wrong and you're actually okay, right? Jac: I am now Amelia: but it was you Jac: me and half of Dublin Amelia: I could care less about about 3/4 of this town Jac: generous, a whole 1/4 Amelia: you know what I mean Jac: yeah Jac: your maths isn't that shocking Amelia: what happened? Jac: what do you mean Jac: I didn't accidentally swallow my mouthwash or something Jac: you know how it goes Amelia: alright, why did it happen? Jac: It was new years Jac: simple as Amelia: you don't give a shit about New Year's Amelia: or anything else right now Jac: I was feeling festive Amelia: because? Jac: because it's the reason for the season? idk Amelia: you're really going to make me figure it out? okay Jac: there's fuck all to figure out Jac: you've got drunk, you know why Amelia: What did she do? Jac: which nurse was it that told your mum Jac: or was it a receptionist, they're the fucking worst Amelia: answer my question so I don't have to go on her profile Jac: go ahead and look Jac: you won't be surprised, no one else is Amelia: [does so a pause] Amelia: I'm sorry Jac: I knew anyway Jac: well, was 99% sure Jac: but then that 1% went so Amelia: You could've called me Amelia: nobody on the gossip grapevine even knows the lad who brought you in Jac: I very much couldn't Jac: I was passed out Jac: so me either, the thank you note will sit here unsent, like Amelia: before, I mean Amelia: she didn't post that last night Jac: it was Christmas Amelia: so? Jac: a time for family Amelia: you used to be Amelia: basically Jac: well that's just weird Amelia: again, you know what I mean Jac: not acceptable to float your incest fantasies just 'cos you've got no siblings to go there with Amelia: ugh, shut up Jac: works for me Amelia: no, it doesn't Jac: ask anyone Jac: I've had a very relaxing break Amelia: none of this is working for you, that's why you ended up in hospital Amelia: for fuck's sake Jac: that was the tequila Amelia: none of this is funny Jac: what do want me to say? Amelia: quite literally anything that isn't a pisstake Amelia: that's how low my bar is now Jac: I got drunk, it isn't the drama your mum and whoever the fuck is making it out to be Amelia: it isn't a drama that you got so drunk you had to be medically emptied out after being brought in by a stranger, no of course not Amelia: anything could have happened to you but why the fuck would that matter Jac: clearly I was surrounded by nice people Jac: I wasn't in a crack den Amelia: you wouldn't tell me if you were Amelia: unless you had a joke you could make out of it Jac: I appreciate that you find me so amusing Jac: I'm not making jokes, there is just nothing to actually be said about any of it Amelia: Fine, we'll go back to not talking Jac: don't let me ruin your good time Amelia: it's a bit late for that advice, thanks anyway Jac: amazing Jac: way to make my hospital stay about you Amelia: how could I? It's all about Savannah fucking Moore, as always Jac: so you wanted to be the one I drank myself into a coma for Jac: I'm so sorry Jac: I'll try again next time and leave a note shouting you out Amelia: no you won't, because that would involve telling people about me Amelia: I might as well not exist Jac: 'cos I'm going around telling EVERYONE that this is about her Amelia: it's never been any secret how I feel about you or that I need you even though you don't need me Amelia: and you could've fucking died or something Jac: seriously Amelia: yeah Jac: it's bullshit if you actually believe that Jac: and you're not just saying it Amelia: all of this is bullshit Jac: I'm a fucking mess Jac: I hit you up all the time Jac: why do you need me to spell it out to you Jac: hire a fucking skywriter Amelia: none of it matters because when things actually matter, like this, you don't Jac: because I'm not fucking okay Jac: that doesn't mean that I don't those other times Amelia: I know that Jac: you clearly don't Jac: it means nothing Jac: then fuck it Amelia: it doesn't mean nothing Jac: it's so fucking Jac: infuriating Jac: I haven't talked to anyone else in person for so long Jac: and I barely do it in writing now either Jac: don't pretend you don't know that means something just to fit your narrative Amelia: what to do want me to say? or do? Amelia: I've spent ages worried about you even before this and there's nobody I can talk about it with because you won't Amelia: I don't get to be upset because it's Christmas and we're not friends and I'm over it, that's the narrative for everybody else Amelia: then I hear this and it's no big deal to you, apparently Jac: just not be so fucking dense Jac: at least when you're talking to me, you don't need to pretend that now Jac: what would you like me to say? how fucking vile it was having to bring up my entire stomach contents, what it smelt like? how terrifying it was to be there on my own? Jac: or what can I do for you now? start sobbing about how out of control my life is, repent, promise to change and be different? Amelia: I've already lost you once because of her, I can't do it again Amelia: especially not like that Jac: I can't stop loving her Jac: I can't stop it hurting Jac: all of us Amelia: I can't stop loving you Amelia: and she isn't going to force me to when she isn't even fucking here Jac: There's no point blaming her Jac: if she didn't know, before I showed her how I felt Jac: she didn't know about you and me Amelia: and you think I'm dense Jac: I don't think she's perfect Jac: not completely Amelia: it's progress Jac: shut up Jac: I'm sorry, alright, I wouldn't have told you, you wouldn't have needed to be worried Amelia: I'm worried by all the things you don't tell me Amelia: where you go and what you do when you're not 'hitting me up' Jac: it's not as if you'd wanna hear it though Jac: you want me to stop, like everyone does Jac: but I just Jac: I can't Amelia: I don't want to hear it because I know it's not what you really want Jac: I can't have what I want Amelia: you can't have her, it doesn't mean you have to have that Jac: None of it was real Jac: but it doesn't erase all that time, what was said and done and felt Jac: not for me Amelia: of course it doesn't Jac: it's like I'm trapped Jac: I can't go back but I'm just left here, she's left me here and all of the things we were going to do and be together aren't going to happen Jac: I'm not going to be that person but I'm not the same as before Amelia: it's like she killed you, you have to grieve Jac: I don't like who I am now Jac: without her Amelia: you said it, you're a mess Amelia: not much about that for a virgo to like Jac: this is just another day in the life for you is it Jac: 🦂 Amelia: it's not about me Amelia: how you feel about you Jac: it's no secret I CLEARLY hate myself Amelia: it'd be the worst kept secret ever if it was Jac: so yeah, it's nice to flip the script, have people think maybe I hate them instead Jac: I ruined Christmas because I hate you all, like, yeah, fine Amelia: maybe Cammie's brothers are little enough to fall for it Jac: it's surprising how effective playing at being a coma patient is for the cause Amelia: everyone knows you're hurting instead of hating Jac: alright Jac: sounding like a cringe 90s rnb love song is not cute Amelia: I'm not cute today Jac: have you got your serious face on to match your tone Amelia: my parents have and if you can't beat them, join them Jac: did your nan say something homophobic and they forgot to call her out on your behalf? Amelia: I'm grounded because of what you did, that's what passes for logic in this 🏠 Amelia: they haven't stopped talking about it or trying to overhaul my life Jac: oh great Jac: I'll not be able to see you too now Amelia: they've told me to stay in, they can't make me Amelia: you can see me whenever you want to Jac: your parents are actually sensible, if leaning towards over-protective Jac: they'll get a restraining order Jac: or me sectioned, if they can really sell it Amelia: they don't know about us Amelia: you're fine Jac: they know they don't want you being my friend Amelia: they don't want me getting hospitalised, that's all Amelia: they know if we were still friends I'd look after you and vice versa Jac: it isn't catching, it's alcohol poisoning Jac: can we go to the beach Jac: we've obviously missed the official swim but I want to Amelia: they did run out of Christmas drinks because I never got around to replacing what we stole and I did have to take sole blame, so that's where they think I'm heading Amelia: but yeah, we can go to the beach Jac: their friends always could put it away Amelia: and I wasn't even drunk last night Amelia: because I'd already had a lecture Jac: how drunk did you get on Christmas day then Amelia: it's not my fault they all stop at a couple of glasses Amelia: or want to my life a competition vs the child or children of every single person my parents know Amelia: 🥱🙄 Jac: you didn't know miracle was a lifetime obligation as well as a fancy title? Jac: gutted Amelia: did I hit you up, no, therefore I CLEARLY wasn't drunk enough Jac: Charming Amelia: 😏 Jac: you know, when I get drunk, I make really bad choices/nearly die Amelia: not always Amelia: and I might've given my cousin my phone so I didn't send you anything, okay? I'm that 😳🤓 Jac: She blatantly wanted to nose at all your private texts anyway Jac: I wouldn't trust any of mine as far as I can throw them Amelia: she'd have to steal my fingerprint, I definitely wasn't that drunk Jac: don't you delete them after? Jac: amateur Amelia: what would I do when you aren't talking to me if I did, read a book? Jac: you're quick with the recommendations for me, so yeah Amelia: I get enough migraines without encouraging them Jac: 😏 Jac: we definitely shouldn't be friends then Amelia: that's not even in the top 10 of reasons why we shouldn't Jac: again, so polite Amelia: come on, you know I'll break any amount of rules Jac: it's not supposed to be adding to the fun of it, like Amelia: fuck supposed to as well Jac: alright Jac: but I ain't going out and getting drunk tonight Jac: I feel inside out still Amelia: what do you want to do then? Jac: I don't know Jac: let's just start with the beach and I'll see Amelia: okay Jac: what do you wanna do Amelia: I only give a shit about seeing you Jac: It might take me a while to get out Jac: goes without saying I'm more than grounded Jac: one pair of 👀 on me at all times Amelia: that kind of wait won't kill me Jac: alright Jac: I'll think of something Amelia: remember a coat this time, yeah? Amelia: I can't lend you any more without literally taking the one off my own back Jac: oh no Amelia: you didn't nearly die in my coat, did you? Jac: I was wearing it Jac: but I don't have it now Amelia: oh Jac: I do remember where I was, I wasn't that gone when I arrived Jac: but I don't wanna go back, I can give you the address? Amelia: do I want to go there or should I just hit the sales? Jac: yeah Jac: consider it a late christmas present? Amelia: wait, my late Christmas present isn't that you didn't die? Jac: you're glad, aren't you, that's a gift Jac: but I also meant money for a coat, that's only fair, if anything Amelia: I can afford my own replacement coat Jac: alright Jac: but I did lose it Amelia: I lent it to you, if it was that precious to me, I wouldn't have Amelia: and my mum will be thrilled I'm asking to go shopping Jac: yeah, true enough Jac: what did you get her for christmas? Amelia: [something her basic mum would actually love because she only had to buy for her parents so might as well go in] Jac: wow, daughter of the year much Amelia: I'm their only daughter, there's no contest Jac: all I got mine was a nervous breakdown so you know Amelia: I did that last year, you know, before it was cool Jac: 🤓 Amelia: I'm sorry that you didn't invent pining Jac: I'm not pining though, you can have that Amelia: I don't want it Jac: I'm sorry you invented pining Amelia: I didn't, I just happen to be amazing at it Jac: or bad at it, depending on your outlook Amelia: well yeah Jac: I look awful Amelia: how do you feel? Jac: awful Jac: at least there's no disparity there Amelia: you've nailed it, along with the majority Jac: start as the year will go on, no matter my intentions or otherwise Jac: fucking hell Amelia: I look great, you've been warned Jac: 😂 Amelia: 👧🏻 Jac: at least it isn't bowl-esque now Jac: like your xmas throwback Amelia: I knew you'd like that Jac: that santa is creepy looking though Jac: your face says it all Amelia: 😂 Jac: how likely do you think any of my siblings are to cover for me right now Amelia: 🤔 very unlikely Jac: distract and run it is Amelia: can you even 🏃 the state you're in? Jac: They gave me IV, I'm technically in my prime, thank you Amelia: carry on Jac: you don't have to come Amelia: I want to though Jac: alright Amelia: okay Jac: [I think she should ask Jesse to cover but whatever the outcome of that convo let us say you do get out somehow and you can go to the beach] Amelia: [yeah even if he won't, find a way gal] Jac: [have your nice moment] Amelia: [it's deserved, well not really because you ruined christmas and new year's but Savannah ruined everything first so it kind of is lol] Jac: [it's what being a teen is all about henny] Amelia: [not this teen, I was a goody two shoes] Jac: [my boo is too good she would never lmao, I did so] Jac: [I think they should have a nice time but then someone/someone's parents is at the beach so she's like well bye] Amelia: [that's very valid because you lowkey wouldn't be able to go anywhere without seeing someone either they know from school or Amelia's parents know the parents of] Jac: [exactly, it's an easy way to end things before anything really has to be said or done so tah everyone] Amelia: [I hope you're both going home, we don't need any more drama immediately] Jac: [my boo says get your ass back home] Amelia: [mhmm] Jac: [she has nowhere to be so I'm sure she's going back to bed lol] Amelia: [get your arse back home too Amelia even though I'm sure that girl has text you at Christmas and New Year's] Jac: [at least you weren't at the beach gal] Amelia: [I 100% vote you do see her when school starts though even though she in the year above and would have to seek you out lol] Jac: [my boo says let her have it] Amelia: [we do love the jealousy always] Jac: [mhmm] Amelia: [not letting you date her though because she actually seems to like you so that'd be rude] Jac: [only jac and savannah can do that lol] Amelia: [Savannah do like this boy cos he reminds her of Jac remember LOL] Jac: [lmao]

[sir-severance]

connective tissue - mlandersen0

this is my piece for the fantastic Slenderverse Zine (2019). this was a pleasure to write, and i am honoured to have been a part of such a wonderful project. you can check out the zine here, and read this fic on AO3 here. 

a quick disclaimer - i hope it's quite clear that i do not support the views which the character Shaun Andersen expresses in this fic. this is an exploration into mental health stigma, the entitlement of neurotypicality and the damage which can come about from both sides of any relationship within which someone is suffering because of mental illness. i am not interested in any discourse. please take this fic for what it is, and if you disagree, feel free to write your own. likewise, please heed the content warnings.

thanks, and i hope you enjoy <3

cws: mental health, mental illness, ableism, sickness, anxiety, depression, blood, twins, abuse, therapy, gore, terror, horror

Shaun’s parents often address him in the same breath as talking about Michael, as if the two are immutably connected, their meaning solely defined by virtue of each not being the other. But the parental Andersens could not always retain this facade of equality in front of their youngest child. No, Shaun found the documents when he was ten, long after Michael’s departure.

At the time, the words he found staggered him with polysyllabic ambiguity:

Monochorionic.

Parasitic.

Anemic.

But one phrase unfurled its roots and lodged itself into the squishy whorls of his brain.

The night of the discovery, little Shaun Andersen ran screaming into his parents’ bedroom, tears and terror marring his face the way fresh understanding of horror always does. When his mother hushed Shaun, held him close and begged him to explain what was wrong, the boy’s answer made the colour flood from her face.

All too soon, Shaun found himself confronted with yet more walls: walls so staggeringly bleached that, to Shaun, the paint served not as a reminder of cleanliness, but of spores and fungi and bacteria, swelling into turgid contaminants ready to burrow through his skin and pick his bones clean.

“Twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome,” the therapist reads from her notes. She smiles at Shaun, with too many teeth. “Where did we hear such big words, hm?”

Shaun keeps quiet. In the time since Michael left, the value of silence impressed its qualities upon him. The art of disquiet is something everyone knows about, but few possess the gall to produce. Shaun maintains fixed eye contact with the therapist, while revelling in the security offered by his glasses. There’s a plastic quality to her dimples: an artificial construction of pleasantry that only a child could see through.

She doesn’t care about you.

Shaun believes there’s relief for both of them when the light goes out of her eyes.

“It’s okay, Shaun,” the therapist says. Her voice quavers noticeably. “I think you’re a very smart boy. You’d like me to tell you the truth, wouldn’t you?”

I think you want to tell me the truth and not have to deal with me, Shaun thinks. The therapist continues on regardless:

“Sometimes, when people have babies, things can go wrong. The baby might come out sick, or a bit different.”

The therapist watches him for a response. Shaun tries his best not to blink. Her mouth twitches.

“When a mom has a baby inside, the baby gets their food from an organ called the placenta. It’s kind of like a phone charger — it gets plugged in to the wall of the mommy’s tummy, and when she eats, nutrients from the food are transferred to the baby. These nutrients are transferred by blood. Do you understand?”

You’re talking to me like I’m an idiot. This doesn’t feel professional at all, is what Shaun  Andersen understands. How old does she think I am?

“With twins, sometimes they share one placenta, instead of having one each. And sometimes, blood gets passed between the twins.” Her face creases, like she’s recalling something unpleasant. “This can mean that one twin doesn’t get enough blood — they’re called the ‘donor’ twin — and the other gets too much blood, making them the ‘recipient’ twin.”

The therapist actually looks away before going on, and Shaun is sure it has more to do with practiced decency than genuine upset.

“Michael received the blood your other brother didn’t get.”

It sounds like she’s reading from a script. Maybe she prepared this. Wanted to scare me and  take me off guard so she can get into my head. I’m not going to say a damn thing. Fuck her.

“I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did, Shaun.” The therapist’s mouth twists in a grim approximation of sympathy. “But it’s just a fact of life.”

A fact of life that Michael devoured his twin in the womb.

It’s only now that he’s in some lightless attic, face-down on the floor with his skin prickled against the cold, that this wash of memories coats Shaun with their accusatory foam. There’s a peculiar, pickling scent prodding at his gag reflex; this room reeks of mold and misery. It’s as if the air itself is frothing from an unseen mouth. For Shaun, this triggers a memory encased in nausea. A taste identical to the sour pills the therapist gave him that day spills onto his palate: anti-anxiety medication.

Shaun vomited the first batch he took, so he ceased taking them all together. Instead, he replaced each pill in his medication box with chalky, pastel candy, and made a big show of swallowing one in the morning and one in the evening.

He’s just like Michael, really. As long as there are witnesses, he’ll put on a show.

Splinters impale the meat of Shaun’s mouth, and sawdust cakes his tongue. He hacks and coughs, and writhes on the floor. His knees manage to find purchase in the gloom, but his muscles tremble and quiver with the effort of kneeling. He’s been bashed and bruised, dragged carelessly and tossed aside like a used rag. Tenderised meat before the slaughter.

And Michael’s going to be the same.

Shaun’s breath pulses out in panicked bursts. He can just about see his exhalations curling away in the freezing cold. No, he can’t be this weak — he must shove it back, quash the feeling. He’s worth more than this. If he goes back on the things he said to Michael now — horrible, hateful things — then he’ll never be able to live with himself.

So Shaun breathes steadily, working his way around the anxiety attack the way his therapist never showed him. As his heart rate steadies and adrenaline drops, all that energy and fear circumvents his guts, and heads a frontal assault on his brain. This leads to a conclusion burning through his mind with perfect clarity

This is all Michael’s fault.

Shaun never knew the name for whatever disease ravaged his brother’s mind. Not that he ever asked. The less he knew about Michael’s... abnormalities, the better. He remembers phrasing it that way to his parents, when he finally said no to another trip to see the remains of their estranged son.

Each week flowed the same way: stilted conversation between siblings, and pained platitudes from their parents. All meaningless little words of encouragement deliberately skipping over the elephant in the room — or, rather, the room containing the elephant, with its queasy walls and claustrophobic bars on the windows. No one in there ever used words like crazy or sick — in fact, they gave you a sheet of words to refrain from using when in the presence of the patients. All the relatives and guests of the inmates were expected to behave in this fashion.

This nauseated Shaun. He knew his brother was still in there. And he knew better than anyone how Michael liked to play his little games.

Regardless, Shaun tried his best to make Michael talk, and find something recognisable in the muddy depths of his eyes. But every visit, the dark deepened. No matter how many toys he tried to share, no matter how many stories he’d try to tell, and no matter how many times he affirmed to Michael that they were best friends and one day he’d get out of the hospital so they could play again... he stayed the same.

The final straw comes one dismal, rainy Friday afternoon. Shaun and his dad sit next to each other, opposite Michael with a table acting as barrier between them, saying nothing.

An aide took them both aside before they entered the main facility, and explained that Michael is being trialed on another type of medication. The visit is going as miserably as the weather foretold.

Michael looks barely human. Something is altered in the familiar shape of his body, like a bent coat hanger hastily reformed into an approximation of its original structure. The older Andersen brother slumps back in his chair, his skin several shades whiter than the wall behind him. His mouth is cracked with dehydration, and his hair is tangled with sleeplessness and grease. But worst of all are his eyes. They sit listless and devoid of comprehension, with blank pupils gazing aimlessly at his family, through them, and beyond them. A candle snuffed out before shrinkage of the wick.

Shaun remembers the emptiness of his therapist’s eyes. The glee in outwitting her. The pleasure of looking into those sad, brown depths.

There is no joy in peering into Michael’s skull.

Without warning, Shaun’s temper seizes him with all the ferocity a young boy’s hormones could. He slams his clenched fist down on the table, rattling metal. All conversation in the room ceases, a veil of corpselike silence.

Michael, however, doesn’t react. He doesn’t even acknowledge the sound.

The words jump from Shaun’s mouth like oil from a sizzling pan, murderous in their venom.

“You’re such a freak.”

Before the aides can reach him, Shaun’s dad grabs him by the shoulder and yanks him out of the room, into the hallway. Shaun can tell he’s furious, but there’s so much anger pumping through his blood that he just doesn’t care. He needs to do something, anything, to puncture the film over Michael’s eyes. Anything to make him so much as flinch.

But Michael remains unaffected.

As expected, the facility removes them both immediately, and Shaun is given a one-month visitation ban. This doesn’t bother Shaun in the slightest — in fact, he feels victorious, and righteous in his fury. There’s no way he’s coming back. Not this time. Michael squandered his last chance.

Even so, he’ll never forget his last view of that room, before his father pulls him away.

Tears spilling freely down Michael’s stony face.

From then on, the pre-trip talk with his parents is a minefield to navigate. They try so hard to make everything light and cheery, to speak about Michael like he’s still a part of their family, but Shaun overhears them speaking about their visits when they think he’s not listening. Now, more often than not, Michael’s arms are bound throughout their visits. Other times, they’re only able to converse with their son from behind a pane of tough glass.

Sometimes, they came home early.

‘Oh, Mikey’s feeling a touch under the weather today,’ their mother chirps. ‘But he says he misses you lots and lots!’

Her happy tone belies the true quality of their visit. It doesn’t matter. Shaun never asks for further details. Eventually, Shaun is old enough that his moods are ascribed to the terrors of puberty, and he is left to his own devices.

In retrospect, the seven years between Shaun’s Michael-detox and their first meeting as adults seems superfluous. The difference the years wrought upon Michael shocked Shaun.

Where once there existed a timid, chubby little kid with the brightest of smiles, now stood a gangly, hollow-looking man, with eyes like pits of coal. Though the corners of Michael’s mouth upturn upon seeing him, Shaun doesn’t register any warmth.

Somehow, this infuriates Shaun more than his brother’s tears ever could. He’d always assumed that even though his brother is older, Michael would remain the same size — adulthood somehow being barred for the mentally ill. Resentment boils away in Shaun’s stomach seeing how much taller his brother is, how clean-cut his features are. But this isn’t the thing which incenses Shaun the most.

It’s that, in those eyes, those chasmic clefts gouged out in his pale flesh, Shaun saw quiet patience.

Intelligence.

Forgiveness.

Just the mere hint of any kind of pity from his brother makes Shaun’s thoughts curdle with rage. How dare he be okay? He’s supposed to be sick! Isn’t that the whole reason why he got  locked up in the first place?

Shaun knows these are irrational and angry thoughts, but would rather cut out his own tongue than internalise them as ‘unfair’. He slaved away the better part of his life playing second fiddle to his parents’ worry and concern, always visiting Michael, paying more attention to Michael... all while their favourite son plays the part of a theatre dummy.

So Shaun makes the decision there and then. He is under no obligation to take care of this man forced upon him by blood — but he will. He will be the most selfless, compassionate human being his brother has ever seen.

Then they’ll see who has the right to forgive.

The walls of the attic Shaun can’t see feel like they’re closing in on his aching body, dragging themselves closer with hidden, noiseless claws. If you hadn’t lied about seeing the  Tall Man, he wouldn’t be as sick as he is, his thoughts hiss, and he thinks that the walls are growing mouths and speaking to him, indicting him, readying to pluck his head from his shoulders and smack it on a pike.

Yet, as his fear increases, tiny increments of light make themselves known in Shaun’s vision. Eventually, he’s able to zero in on a shape just out of each — something large and mostly crimson, with a long curved blade extending from its middle. Sickly, distended panic courses through Shaun like a white-hot fever when he recognises the shape.

It’s a fucking chainsaw.

The enormity of the situation crashes into his nervous system. He’s being laid out, prepped and ready for consumption. Oh God, he drugged me to tie me down and cut me open, and then he’s gonna go find Michael and do the same thing-

Keep it together! Express some reticence, for fuck’s sake. You’re not going to break down. You’re not going to give in. Michael’s the one who hurt you, kept hurting you, all this time. Without him, you would have a real family. A home. A future. Not biting the dust spilled on some dank  basement.

The attic betrays nothing but the acrid stench of death. People have died here. People have been tied up and carved open like autopsy specimens, all for the gain of their sadistic owner. Shaun, despite his terror, continues to squint at the weapon.

You’re about to bite the dust anyway...

When Shaun sees the blood staining the steel, he screams.

Another flashbulb memory comes searing into his head: his brother’s wafer-thin form keeling over in the snow. That chokehold of panic throws Shaun into immediate action, forcing him to run and cradle the body of his brother. He’s so desperate and terrified, not knowing if this is really Michael, what this body could be capable of...

And yet Shaun grabs hold anyway, all grudges suddenly forgotten, and oh fuck it must be Patrick, because his nose is bleeding and his limbs are as heavy and wet as the white beneath their boots. Shaun hauls him the best he can, inwardly cursing his lack of strength, and as he drags Patrick over to the frozen table he can only pray his mental fortitude is made of stronger stuff.

“I came here to apologise.”

“Really.”

The sarcasm pours out of Shaun without a second thought, so heated it almost scorches the icy air. But there’s no way he could ever dam this wave of fury.

‘There’s still a lot you don’t know...’

It takes everything Shaun has to not to let his poker face flicker, but the rage beneath makes him want to seize Patrick by his lapels and bash him against a wall. How dare he. This freakshow of a bodysnatcher can’t even keep his brother’s body alive and well long enough to stand up while having a conversation, and yet has the nerve to patronise him?

Shaun hears, ‘I’m sorry for Stormy,’ as if from the other end of a tunnel. All that’s brewing in his head is the conundrum sitting in front of him. Two personalities, one body. They’re interchangeable now, one and the same. Twice the twin, half the skeleton. Michael, playing patient zero to a contagion which wrecks and wrings until bloodied flesh is all that’s left behind. Patrick, a disease forged in the womb and soaked into the being of a boy who could have been something different.

Should have been.

Never will be.

No one could reconcile the two but Shaun.

So it must be a sickness, an illness, a disease. And everything bad that ever comes from sweet Michael’s mouth is a result of his condition.

If that’s the case, is it so awful to want to be as far away from them — from him — as possible,  whoever — and whatever — he is?

Patrick is only sharing the broken-down condo which remains of his brother’s body.

Taking back his stolen property.

And where does that leave Shaun?

As the unspoken martyr, of course.

There’s only so much room in my head for bullshit, Shaun seethes. I’m not going to live my  life cleaning up after him — not for Michael or Patrick.

And that’s it - that’s the one thing that people never let him have. The realisation which hits upon their return to the motel, where Michael cowers beneath the words spat from Shaun’s molten mouth. He always possessed a thought process blessed by rapidity, but a tongue cursed to be silver. Shaun is nothing but a host to a panoply of pain as essential to him as his own veins.

As essential as the blood flowing between Michael, and the brother he never met.

When Shaun storms out into the cold, determined to be somewhere, anywhere that puts great distance between him and the entity Michael/Patrick Andersen, he feels the full force of the Virus, nesting, breeding, multiplying beneath his skin. There’s no room for guilt and worry and pain — just the cure.

To never be near his brother again.

When Shaun saw Patrick’s nose bleeding, he had to swallow back bile. He knew in an instant that their brother never left, not really. Once, connective tissue held the bonds of their brotherhood fast. The transfusion continues. The real question is — who is the donor, and who is the recipient?

Even his own family emphasised the importance of their blood-bond, unable to comprehend Shaun’s behaviour.

“He’s your brother, Shaun, and he needs your help,” his mom tells him one night, barely holding back the tears. “I know he can be difficult to deal with, but this isn’t his fault. He didn’t ask to be sick.”

And Patrick didn’t ask to die, Shaun wants to scream. No one blames Michael for  cannibalism, do they?

Now he’s facedown in the wood, sawdust clinging to the hot streaks his tears leave behind, and that mortifying image which plagues his nightmares comes looming large from the recesses of his mind; two twin boys, floating without care in a shared amniotic sac, their umbilical cords respectively attached to the same fleshy hunk in lieu of a beating heart.

Shaun feels like his foetal never-brother. Severed. Shrink-wrapped in his own sac, the very thing keeping him alive. And then eventually swallowed whole.

It’s time for Shaun to cut the cord for good.

Why couldn’t you just be normal? The tears start for real now, fat and salty and rolling down Shaun’s face in a tempest. His internal monologue is louder now, drowning out the background noise of his softer (yet much more insidious) conscience.

Stormy would still be here if you weren’t so fucked up... I could have had a normal life if it  weren’t for you...

There’s no time left for forgiveness. Because of Michael... Patrick... because Shaun willingly exposed himself to this pathogen again and again, he is going to die here, in this glacial attic, with no one around to know or care.

But, as the lights are turned off, and a dark, unfamiliar laughter fills his every sense, a set of horrid thoughts riot in the screeching crowd of his brain; the thoughts that could never quite be buried.

Michael didn’t know what he was doing... Michael didn’t know what he consumed…

Shaun once made the mistake of asking his mom what his other brother was going to be called.

No-one ever asks to be infected.

Shaun’s eyes shut against the darkness for the last time.

“I always liked the name Patrick.”