#except for the one that isn't allowed to see me. he's very polite and quiet

[no-one-hears-me]

broooo I hate when people can't just give a solid answer to plans

[meduseld]

your last au has me going through it 😭💔 does nick tell isaiah anything about ziggy? also is isaiah more like his mom or his dad? or both maybe? im sure its heartbreaking either way! ❤️

It has me going through it too (and work has been bonkers so yay, finally able to answer ur ask!)

I think Nick does, in vague terms, but always complimentary. Never a bad word. "I loved your mother and she loved you" "She was brave and bold and smart" and "Your mother would be proud". Isaiah catches on fairly early on that his mom is a) not dead b) his father is still in love with her and b) she wasn't married to his dad and that all that is ~hot gossip~ but he doesn't push it bc he loves his dad and thinks this would be hurtful, but also would be a bit afraid of the answers too. [Town ladies talk, and plenty tired to leverage "the boy needs a mother" into being a stepmom married to the most important man in town but Nick rebuffed them all bc he's still evidently in Love with Ziggy. So they talk shit about her too and Isaiah is a good listener, good at being unnoticed when it suits him].

Nick probably scrounged up photos of Ziggy too, to give to Isaiah, which he keeps on his nightstand. Nick was *truly* bowled over by the love he feels for his child, he's the first Goode man to actually love and care for his son as a person and son and not a Pact necessary inheritance/failsafe. Which while great and motivating and fulfilling, also hammered home how little his dad cared for him as a person and how morally bankrupt he really was. Nick is sweating the Pact because he loves his son and wants to save Isaiah's soul and future and doesn't want him tainted by this. See Satan thought that accepting Isaiah as Ziggy's "sacrifice" to be allowed to leave Sunnyvale meant that it would effectively baby trap Nick into the Pact because the Heir is Right There and he can't leave because of the Pact, it really brought home to Nick that he would do anything to save Isaiah from that fate *and* allowed Ziggy to gear up a return that ends the Pact and does save Isaiah.

I think that Isaiah, like a lot of kids, has both the best and the worst of his parents in him. He's strong and smart and brave. And like them, laser focused and committed. Which is great when it comes to goals, less so when he decides you've wronged him and are getting Revenged. On the surface he does seem a lot like Nick, since that's who raised him, Sunnyvale polite, but he's never been Will or Sheila style. He's quiet and studious and very very observant. That comes from some of Nick's not great traits: despite trying to be better, a lifetime of isolationist secrecy rubs off and Isaiah gets fast that there's a lot Not Being Talked about and all about Nick's extreme idea of discretion and the particular Goode family Omerta. So he's likeable, and has friends, but they are shallow bonds. No sleepovers, he would never dream of it and Nick wouldn't let it happen either. But he's very very good and getting and gathering information, listening at keyholes, going unnoticed to spy and because of that slyly manipulative to get the info and results he wants. People don't notice, except maybe Nick. He's the nice popular guy, the one you wish you hated but ugh no he's sweet, but again he doesn't do deep bonds and if he feels you deserve comeuppance he makes sure you get it....... and that no one ever knows Isaiah is behind it. That laser focused dedication again. He seems like the typical carefree handsome straight A class president who is friends with everybody, but underneath he is tightly controlled and calculated, aware of everything and keenly insightful, and faaaaaaaar more anxious than he seems. It's a very Batman and Bruce Wayne situation, in fact probably what Bruce would have been if his parents lived, by putting on the expected persona of the wealthy scion of the elite that totally isn't weird or into Stephen King or constantly freaking out. Just like Bruce Wayne is himself neuroatypical and probably mentally ill, which is hard to tell with the personas and drives he has built, Isaiah has a LOT of generational/genetic curses (not just the Satan bit that still has some influence but addiction issues on the Berman side and the health consequences of longterm stress marginalization and poverty that we know are passed down from mother to child. Trauma lasts ages and both his parents have that and generations of terrible parenting to get them there).

He's also got that Berman passion and tension, so on the outside he and his dad seem ultra tight and agreeing, and while they are super close, they clash a lot behind closed doors (very, YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, GAWD DAD YOU ARE SO ANNOYING style, not like actual fights. Bratty teen stuff). And while he does follow Nick's lead on propriety and such, he has Ziggy's laugh and smile, and sometimes he'll make a gesture that's so Ziggy that Nick needs to catch his breath from the way it hits him so hard. The first time he laughed, not a baby laugh but when it was his distinct laugh, Nick heard Ziggy and almost cried.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

70 with taako and lucretia? or 5 with taako and lup for smth less angsty, either one :0

70. “You know what? Never mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

((random dialogue prompts - send some in!!))

--

Maybe it was the inner teenager inside of Taako, but when he heard the front door open, his primal instinct was, of course, "shove your boyfriend under the bed and hope for the best". Except that Taako was in the living room and there was no under-the-bed in sight. Instead, he threw the pocket spa down and shoved Kravitz unceremoniously into it. From the hallway by the door, the Director poked her head in.

"Sorry for coming in unannounced," she said, stepping further in. "Merle forgot his arm in the cafeteria again." Merle's wooden arm was, indeed, in her grasp. It seemed to be sulking. "I was just gonna leave it on the coffee table."

"Go for it," Taako said, in a normal voice that was totally and completely normal. He cleared his throat. He stood in front of the pocket spa while she did so, carefully sidestepping so she couldn't see inside. With the arm on the table, she straightened up. Taako asked, "is that all?"

"Well," she said, glancing between him and the pocket spa. "I did want to debrief about your last mission with you. I imagine that it wasn't exactly pleasant but, uh. To put it nicely, you're a lot harder to track down than Merle and Magnus, it seems."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," Taako said. The Director tilted her head slightly like she had expected that response. She continued with,

"So, how are you?"

"How am I what?" Taako said.

"How are you feeling?" the Director said expectantly. Taako winced.

"Oh, you know," he said, waving away her concern. He backed up a little further against the pocket spa. "All good here. Taako's the prime example of good mental health, you know how it is."

The pocket spa snorted. The Director paused. Taako paused. He was pretty sure he was nervous sweating, which was both gross and not helping the situation.

"Is there anything I should... know about?" the Director said.

"No," Taako said. He kicked the edge of the pocket spa with a motion he hoped said: "shut up". There was a very quiet grumble from inside. Taako sighed. "Alright, fine. You know what? Never mind, you know I'm lying to you anyway. But you can't get mad at me! It's- it's my dorm, I'm allowed to have visitors-"

"Visitors who are part of the Bureau, yes," the Director said. She settled herself on the couch, like she was expecting this to go on for a while, which... fair, yeah.

"Uhhh, I don't remember that in the welcome pamphlet," Taako said.

"Anyone who isn't part of the Bureau would not feel... comfortable up here, due to the Voidfishes effects," the Director said. "And I take it you did not inoculate someone without permission, correct?"

"Nah," Taako said. "Well, I mean- no, I don't think so. Anyway, he doesn't need it, 'cus he's like, super undead or whatever-"

"Not undead," Kravitz said from inside the pocket spa. "A construct of-"

"Very undead," Taako interrupted. "This is Kravitz."

Kravitz poked out of the pocket spa. He rolled his eyes and came back into the living room, settling himself down on the couch as well. For her part, the Director didn't look too surprised, but she was hard to read anyway, so really who's to say. The pocket spa shrunk back down to regular size and Taako put it back in his pocket. He sat, too.

"And Kravitz is...?"

"A reaper," Kravitz said politely. "It's very nice to meet you."

"My boyfriend," Taako put in, because that was more important. "So you can't kick him off the moon or whatever, 'cus he's not hurting anyone and- and he's-"

"I'm not gonna kick him off the moon, Taako," the Director said, and she was smiling a little now. "He's not a dog. I've just- if I'm allowed, I have a few questions for you, Kravitz. Security questions, mostly, because I was pretty sure no one could sneak in after the last time, but-"

"The last time?" Taako asked.

"-but I have to make sure that we're not missing anything. Can we start with you explaining what exactly a reaper is?"

Taako shrunk back in the couch as Kravitz's eyes lit up. The Director was right in sitting down- they were going to be here for a while.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Gotham Villains x Hotel Owner!Reader || Headcanons

Explanation / Topic: You run one of the cities dingy hotels except this one, in all of its glory, is only ever visited by bad guys. Your hotel is well known as the place rogues hide away in when they're planning or they're just out of action for a while because you refuse to give up information to the police no matter what (Its proprietor-client confidentiality! Ha ha) and you're treat them fairly (Although- on the kinder side of course)

These are the many ways they show their gratitude, no matter how small.

Character involved: Most, if not all, of Fox Gotham's rogues. Except Ra's Al Ghul because he bores me. Nevertheless, not just the Legion Horrible's like the picture might lead you to believe- that's just the picture with the most villains that I could think of.

Warnings: Probably too much fluff. I'll make a sequel to this with the less-then-pretty, nitty grotty details of this hotel too probably XD

Barbara likes to invest every now and then, "Just making sure my affairs are in order baby- gotta make sure my hidey hole's still there when I need it." but she always adds a little something for you to buy yourself 'something pretty' (Since your style is SO plain, according to her but then again who isn't plain compared to her XD). This little something is always upwards of a hundred dollars. She's such a sugar mommy you cant convince me that she isn't-

Butch (Or Cyrus Gold, or Grundy. he has too many names) has made it clear that if you ever need help, you can always call him and he'll be there. Very gangsta about it. He's such a big, tough guy but such a softy on the inside XD When he had Grundy brain, he still had some kind of tracker in his mind like dogs do that took him 'home' (To your hotel), dragging Ed along with him. He gave you a big, bone crushing hug when he got there.

Dr Strange is not allowed in as he'll steal your guests and experiment on them.

You don't know Ecco too well yet and vice versa but when she turned up with Jeremiah and Jervis- you definitely appreciated her presence more then that of Jeremiah's. You were still sore over Jerome and didn't trust this new brother. Still, you complimented the bullet in Ecco's skull, saying it was pretty cool, and now she loves you XD When she's in the neighbourhood she occasionally likes to pop in and say hello; Spread a little chaos, you know the deal.

Honestly you probably new Bridgit long before Strange forcing upon her the heat resistance thing and her becoming Firefly. She of course didn't remember you but soon *warmed* up to you after you gave her one of the few rooms with a fireplace and easily forgave her when she accidentally set the couch in her room on fire (I mean its for sure not the worst thing that has happened within these walls- no worries). She has been known to go around lighting the fireplaces for you under the pretence of having fun (Which is true) but also so that you can worry about one less thing. Firefly is also one to come chat with you if she's bored.

Fish Mooney obviously doesn't stay with you very often at all, because this lady can find better dwellings (As, no offense but your hotel is kiiiiinda dingy. What can you do about it, though? You house rogues and a lot of them don't have a lotta money) but she still absolutely appreciates what you do. She'll send bad guys that she does business with that have deeper pockets then your usual client, your way. She's also kind to you, which to me is even better honestly haha XD

Headhunter stays with you a lot when he's on business and often reminds you that you get a discount from him if you require his services. Hey, you keep him in milkshakes! He's gotta repay you somehow.

Okay, the twins. You knew Jerome first and got off to a bad start with Jeremiah due to that. Still, we aren't talking about relationships; We're talking about nice things. So moving on. Just assume that you warm up to the brainier twin.

These two are hard XD Cuz their 'good' and 'bad' sides kinda blur together as they're so unpredictable and don't really care about anyone.

Still, I can see Jerome being pretty light with you and valuing the fact that you can keep up with his banter- so he keeps you alive. You're basically his mother actually, despite the possible lack of age difference. Like, he wants to show you stuff he does and tell you about chaos he's created.

And Jeremiah honestly appreciates that you'll listen to his long speeches (You've gotten pretty good at just sitting and nodding your head and you've perfected the art of the well placed understanding noises like 'Hmm' and 'Ah!' and 'Oh dear' in your line of work)- so obviously, you're invaluable to him. Must keep you around. I mean, Ecco listens, but does she really understand? That is the question.

When he's around, Jervis is very polite and gracious. He'll duck into the kitchens after dinner and start helping you with the dishes and clear dining tables, he'll ask you how you are and mean it (Like, he'll stand there and discuss it with you), he'll try to keep Jerome from barging into your room in the early hours of the morning, etc. Just nice things like that ^^

Magpie tries not to steal from you... Haha XD Like, she'll pick up a pretty clock off a mantle piece and then go to leave with it... then realise that this is yours and go 'Oops!!' and put it back, giggling nervously.

... When she leaves you still find various items from other places in the hotel, in her room, but still. The fact that she tries is enough!

Mr Freeze is a pleasure to have around, of course!! He's quiet, he nods to you when he passes, and he's there to freeze assholes that harass you (And then take them outside so they don't melt all over your carpet). A respectful dude. He has frozen Jerome multiple times... particularly when Jervis has been unsuccessful in persuading him not to wake you up at 3 in the morning.

Ivy gets so happy whenever she sees you. Lots of hugs and telling you all about how she's been. Her energy is enough to cheer you up, and on your birthdays she always brings you a new plant that has meaning to her. Like, a sunflower for how kind you are, a Ficus for abundance, etc. Always in a pot of course, never dead. So of course, you have to take care of them but its a small price to pay for the sweetness ^^ And the not being murdered thing.

Like Mooney and Barbara, Oswald doesn't stay often due to having that mansion from his father but he remembers your kindness from when he would fall on hard times before that (And after the fact, too of course) and whenever he's making some kind of mafia deal he always ensures your and your hotels safety in the contract.

Pyg / Lazlo (I cant decide which name I like best XD) is just very polite, like Jervis. Gentlemen. Also his impressions- God. Have fun with that. He might just do your favourite Looney Tune character if he's in a good mood.

With Ed... look, if you even try with his riddles without being prompted, he'll do anything for you. It's well documented. I'm not sur about nice deeds, cuz Riddler's kind of a dick, but he'll for sure send you a birthday card every year! Christmas probably too ^^

Scarecrow: I will not spray you today. You: Gee thanks. // No but seriously, he's quiet about his gratitude but he is definitely once of the good ones ^^ Would absolutely take it upon himself to come save your ass if you got abducted.

Tabitha... well, you know how Headhunter will you get a discount if you want someone killed? Tabitha will do it for fucking free.

Hey, if you feed Victor (Zsasz), you have a friend for life. He will bring pizza and just hang out together. He is also willing to murder someone for you.

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions. 

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work. 

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset. 

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that. 

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious. 

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on. 

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder. 

So that’s how it’ll be. 

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip. 

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that. 

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all. 

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them. 

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right. 

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two. 

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up. 

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you. 

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped. 

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.” 

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep. 

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

[sahbibabe]

A Little String

A Soulmate AU

Sephiroth/Fem! Reader

While everyone has some red string connecting them to their soulmate, you can't see yours--it is invisible to you, as is the identity of the person on the other side of it. You would never even know if you had found them until it was too late.

But they could see it. Would know. Could choose.

Would they tell you?

EVERYONE KNEW THAT the SOLDIERs who protected them had unusual eyes; that they were a magnificent combination of blues and greens, mutated to contain the cat-like pupil that so few of them truly obtained. The strongest, they said, owned those fascinating pupils. That gave them the characteristics of a predatory cat, or some type of primal feline that stalked its prey by night.

You were not as lucky to have witnessed those eyes for yourself, only having the pleasure of others vague descriptions and small vocabulary to articulate their beauty to you. Eyes were the windows to the soul, so it was said, except yours were slammed shut and bolted, drawn with curtains so black that no light entered them.

Your friend, Aerith, had once said that your eyes gave off as much life as anyone else's, but that there was no awareness behind it, but an unguarded, unfiltered propensity for honesty. Anyone who knew body language could read you like a book, but no one could read your eyes, unable to tell if the emotions displayed there were real or just fake.

Unfortunately, Aerith was unable to visit you, more worried about one of her other friends who had gotten into some trouble. You couldn't recall his name, only that he was some important connection to her, someone she knew as family; you had met him, supposedly, once or twice, but were unaware of it. Aerith had said it had been a casual run in, usually with you holding giant boxes of tea leaves or tiny trips to her own home. It worried you that you couldn't sense him either time, his stride too quiet and his aura practically invisible.

But if Aerith was friends with him, knew him, he had to be good, right? You could only put your trust in her and move forward.

Even still, you had trouble managing your tea shop without her calm voice in your ear to help you deal with the judgemental stares. There were several of your regulars who you could guess smiled at you every time you delivered their brew to them, would defend you against anything, like Biggs and Wedge, or that one girl, Jesse, who had come with them and taken a shine to you.

You were thankful they didn't judge you for your blindness, or see it as a weakness. Before you had lost your sight to an awful disease that took your vision away during your younger years, you were a force to be reckoned with, a mercenary with enough blood on your hands to wash the city ten times over, none of it innocent blood. No one knew that, not that you would let them, but you still retained some of those reflexes, those habits and mannerisms, which was why, when the door to your shop opened as you were getting ready to close but you heard no footsteps, felt only a pressuring aura, you went on guard.

"May I help you?" You asked, turning to the direction of the door, a teacup held in your hand to seem demure. "It's almost closing time."

You had deteriorated into a gentle soul over the years, but that did not mean that you wouldn't defend yourself until the end. Your grip tightened on the cup ever so slightly.

"My apologies." The voice was smooth, neutral, and completely unexpected. It was male, had the confidence you expected to hear in someone with power, and sent the hairs on the back of your neck straight up. "I was supposed to meet someone here. It seems not."

"Who were you supposed to meet?" You inquired. He was far taller than you, speaking somewhere above your head, and his mere presence was enough to have your sixth sense ringing. "Maybe I can get them a message."

"No need. I'll see him soon enough." The man walked towards a small shelf seeded with little knickknacks. You had a hunch he was allowing you to hear his footsteps now, as a courtesy, noting your blindness the moment you had looked to the door. It was hard to ignore; gray irises and sclera were unusual even in Midgar.

There was a faint tinkling as he lifted one of the precious healing materia from a tiny bowl you had put it in for sale. No one had bought it yet. "What is this?"

"Healing materia," you explained patiently. "What's your name? I don't recall your voice at all."

"You wouldn't." You felt him turn to face you, but noticed he hadn't dropped the materia. "What would you like for this?"

"The materia?" You hummed, taking a seat on one of the benches you knew sat behind you. If you were going to die, might as well do it comfortably. "Well, a name and a general idea of what you do for a living would be nice… As a start."

He chuckled lightly, a nice sound, but you had an idea that it could have been a more ominous tune if he had wanted.

"Persistent, aren't you?" He pocketed the materia, the leather he wore--you could hear the creak--parting just so. "Very well. I am Sephiroth. You could call me a SOLDIER."

You envisioned green-blue eyes, overlaid with lashes of various colors, staring at you from across the room. His face was invisible to you, his body a mystery, but you could imagine. Could dream.

"It's nice to meet you, Sephiroth. I'm [Name]." You held out your hand politely, for him to shake. "I've never met a SOLDIER before."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently as he shook it. He wore leather gloves, smooth yet worn from use, and had strong, firm hands, the kind you would expect to feel on a SOLDIER.

"[Name]. How unique." Sephiroth pulled his hand from yours when the gesture lasted a few seconds longer than was polite. "I find myself hard pressed to believe that you have never met another SOLDIER before."

"It isn't all that far fetched." You shrugged, crossing your arms. He shifted his weight, caused the floorboards to creak. "I'm blind. If I had, I wouldn't have known unless they told me. And even then, most of your sort usually aren't keen on admitting to their jobs."

"As they should be. SOLDIERs require a measure of privacy." Sephiroth drew a little closer; you could feel his aura against your own, powerful and controlled. You felt pitifully weak against such power. "Your eyes… Is it a disease of some sort?"

"You could say that." More like a little test gone wrong for a manic scientist, but Sephiroth didn't need to know that. He was a stranger. "But I've heard that you have even stranger eyes."

"Perhaps I do."

"Do you? Have strange eyes?" You pressed. "Consider it your final payment for the materia."

He laughed, this time a very pleasant and genuine sound. You were surprised to find yourself pleased by it.

"It's an unfair trade for such a precious material. I'll do you one a little better." Sephiroth paused. "It requires a small use of my own materia, however."

"That's alright." Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head. "Will it hurt?"

"No." He took your hand in his. You instantly felt the cool, burning rush of materia, but not any kind you had ever used before. "It just tingles, that's all. And… there."

It was brief, lasted for only a few seconds--but you could see. Could make out the brilliant irises of his eyes, which you assumed were his, in a gorgeous blue and green hue, offset by beautiful pale white lashes. In the center, staring back at you with an amusement that seemed to only have a place in cats, was an iris that resembled that of a fascinated cat. Saw the long, draping strands of hair that fell over his back in a sleek wave. Saw his face, more handsome than you could have envisioned, almost feline and deadly in its shape.

And then it was gone, but it was imprinted in your mind as firmly as a brand.

"You have gorgeous eyes," you blurted, and an unusual thing happened; you felt his amusement through his aura. "Thank you. For that."

"No. I believe I must thank you, instead." Sephiroth rose to his feet, but kept a gentle grip on your wrist; tentative and almost kind.

"Whatever for?" You asked softly, confused. His aura grew steadily more amused… and softer, if you could have felt it more strongly. "I did nothing."

"You did everything." Sephiroth released your hand, made for the door. "Thank you, [Name]."

"But I don't…" The door opened and shut. You felt a feather in your hand, soft and impossibly sleek. "I don't understand."

Your world, if you could even tell, went just a little darker.

As if some light had been given to you, and then just as abruptly snatched away.

A little string.

[jojuarez26]

When love isn't enough: Maybe I was wrong?

Mature content and strong language Divergent fanfiction:Eric @pathybo @tigpooh67 @ljvosscmt @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @anditcametopass @angolodiparadiso @ericdauntless @ariwolff14 @james-k-delaney @glamlover87 @scorpio2009 @frecklefaceb @societalfailure

“You know I hate to admit it but you’re beautiful. Not the fake beautiful most the girls that swarm to my brother are, but a true natural beauty.” I looked at this young girl and smiled wide. So intelligent. But she is Erudite after all. “Thank you, I think,” I laughed.

“He must really like you. Or at least trust you alot.” This statement surprised me. “You think so?” I didn’t really know what to say. “I know so. He never brings anyone here. No one. Except me of course. He has real trust issues. Rightfully so though. Everyone wants something from him. They never just want to be his friend or care about him.”

This threw me off a little. I never seen it that way. He is cruel, cold, calculated and cunning. He pushes people away and doesn’t let them in. I never really contemplated he might have a reason to be. “I know my brother is not a wonderful person. He probably never will be. It’s not really his fault though. Mother and Aunt Jeanie made him that way. Father was probably the worst.” Why was she telling me these things? Things I knew where private, Eric would be furious. “Audrianna, why are you telling me things about Eric that I am sure he wouldn’t want me to know? ” “Because if he trust you I trust you. He deserves at least one person who understands him. The real person behind the mask.” I didn’t know what to say. The good thing was I didn’t have to. The key turned in the lock and he entered the room.

He stood there eyes scanning between the two of us. It was like he was trying to see if he would catch us doing something wrong. She was right. He has HUGE trust issues. “Oh knock it off Eric. You chose to trust her, now act like it,” Audrianna scoffed rolling her eyes.

I like this girl! I still don’t like or much trust him, but her. Sold in my book. However it did slightly sadden me that such a young girl was so grown up and enlightened. “Audrianna shut your mouth. Are you two ready to go?” he seemed extremely tense. “Yes oh wise one let’s get the hell out of here.” “Watch your mouth Audi.” it was refreshing to see Eric acting human.

Outside the fence just on the outskirts of Amity is where he brought us. There was already a small campsite set up here. It was obvious he must have come here plenty of times before. We set up our supplies and started to prepare to make our dinner.

I found I immensely enjoyed Audrianna company. Even though I am four years her senior she was a breath of fresh air. Eric was quiet and observant. He just seemed to drink in our interactions curiously. But eventually the heavy set in. It was time to set up serums and start whatever it was we had to do for Audrianna. “Why are you doing this to her. Is it really necessary?” I was becoming uncomfortable with what he might be doing to his sister. “If I want to keep her alive yes,” he snapped at me. “What the hell does that even mean Eric, ” I couldn’t just except that as an answer. “She’s divergent Aleisia. The fact her memories are coming back is all the proof anyone needs. If I don’t readministor the memory serum before they give truth serum they will find out. Then they WILL kill her. I won’t let that happen.” My blood ran cold. She is a little girl. Why would anyone kill her. Especially her family. I couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of what he just said. “Who would kill her? Why? She’s just a little girl. A very sweet little girl at that.” the look he gave me terrified me. Maybe he would end up killing me after all. “Jeanine sees divergents as a threat to our system. A diseased race that needs to be eradicated. Maybe she’s right. But this is MY sister and I refuse to let her do that. She won’t care it’s her niece or that she is thirteen, she will eliminate her.” I know the confusion and horror had to show clearly on my face. What kind of monster is she. That form of thinking was just wrong. Divergent or not, they are still people.

“For all the evil you think you see in me, I promise it pales in comparison to Jeanine. Come on. We need to begin. ”

After it was all said and done and Eric was confident all had went well, we got Audrianna settled into a sleeping bag by the fire. We sat down next to the fire and where silent for awhile. When he finally did speak I got some answers.

“You always keep asking me why you? Its you because you are unlike any woman I have ever come across. Intelligent but not arrogant. Confident, you don’t need nor do you seek anyones approval. Brave almost to the point of stupidity without crossing that line.” “Beautiful in ways that most females could only dream about. You don’t have to paint your face or stuff yourself into provocative clothes to still be the most beautiful thing in the room.” He put his hand on my cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb. “Wow, you lay it on thick when you pull out the charm. No wonder why all those girls drop their panties so quickly for you,” I was truly impressed. Not enough to be convinced though.

“Not this time. I only speak truth. Besides I don’t want your panties off just yet.” “You are so full of shit, ” I laughed shaking my head. “Am I? Because I am not the only one who sees it. Trust me, the Stiff sees it too,” he sounded slightly aggravated mentioning Tobias. “He’s Abnegation. He is just selfless which equals polite,” I scoffed. “That is not it believe me, I know desire in a man’s eyes when I see it,” he had went back to starring back to the fire.

I was starting to believe maybe he really just misunderstood. No, he couldn’t be that misunderstood that he took so much pleasure in causing others so much pain. Suddenly without warning he grabbed my neck kissing me with a deep hungry need.

Suddenly I was being laid back on the sleeping bag in a passionate kiss that I couldn’t help but respond to. I had been with someone before but that was nothing compared to what this kiss was making me feel. I wrapped my arms around his neck and went to wrap my legs around his waist when he suddenly broke off the kiss and leaned back. I looked up confused trying to read the look in his eyes. This was what he had wanted. For me to want and desire him. So why back off now? “I want you so bad, I really do. But when I have you I want it to be a time when I can allow you to remember it.”

“Eric what the hell are you talking about? ” he really is crazy. “For your own safety the only thing I can allow you to remember is the friendship you have started with my sister. You both need each other. I can see that.” Panic started to rise in me. What was he talking about? What did he intend to do? “Eric you can trust me. I swear I won’t tell anybody. I would help protect Audrianna with my life.” I didn’t want to forget this. I didn’t want to loose the knowledge of this Eric, or the evil that was Jeanine for that matter. “I know. It’s not you I don’t trust Aleisia. As a matter of fact besides my sister you have proved to me you are the only other person I can trust.” “Eric just kiss me and stop thinking so damn much.” I thought that was going to be the end of it when he did as I asked.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pinch in my neck. I pushed him back and starred in disbelief at the needle in his hand. “Why!? Why would you do this? I want to remember Eric. I need to. You won’t let me see this side of you again I know you won’t. I will be back to hating you.”

I could almost swear tears glistened in his eyes. The expression on his face was one that bared a tortured soul. I was trying desperately to fight the fatigue quickly taking me over. “For the same reason I did it to Audrianna, to protect what I care about. This is for the best. It will keep you safe.”

I felt a kiss quickly pressed to my lips before the darkness completely consumed me

[maksylmyheart]

Olympic ice dance champion Charlie White posted a screenshot on Twitter on Jan. 17 of something he'd written "from the heart.'' It began, "Words matter. Action matters. The role we play in society matters. These are lessons I learned as an athlete, and they are the words I live by as an Olympian.''

The micro-essay was a signal that things were about to change on White's social media portal for his fans and followers, where his profile invites them to "Join me here for an important conversation.''

Since then, amid personal snapshots and promotional tidbits for the ice shows he does with partner and co-gold medalist Meryl Davis, White, whose Twitter handle is @CharlieaWhite, has posted a steady stream of strong opinions about national politics. Many of his Tweets have pointedly criticized the Trump administration, but White keeps returning to a more general theme he felt keenly as an international athlete: the image and example his country presents to the world.

White also engages in lengthy, patient, but firm reply threads with those who disagree with him. It's a huge departure from his sanitized competitive persona where, as he admits, "I wasn't a good interview. I didn't say interesting things.''

Taking such a public stance is unusual in the Olympic sports realm, where active athletes often refrain or are discouraged from making political statements by their sponsors and governing bodies, and are formally barred from doing so on the field of play at the Games themselves. (One outspoken exception is six-time Olympic shooting medalist and gun-rights advocate Kim Rhode, who addressed the 2012 GOP convention and last summer openly backed then-candidate Donald Trump.) White, who is married to 2006 Olympic ice dance silver medalist Tanith Belbin White, says he has felt no external pressure to censor himself. He and Davis have not competed since the 2013-14 season that culminated with their gold medal at the Sochi Games, but they have not ruled out a comeback. "[Tanith and Meryl] are both supportive," he says. "They know 100 percent that when I feel strongly about something, I can't stay silent. We're on the same page in terms of what is important in the world, and there are things worth standing up for."

White, 29, has been chipping away at a degree in political science at the University of Michigan for many years. He still makes his living in the figure skating realm as a performer, commentator and occasional choreographer.

He realizes some may think he's on thin ice, whether or not he and Davis ever compete again. But White says he is driven by a sense of obligation. "Post-election, I had to look at myself in the mirror and say, 'What are you really disappointed with here?' And unfortunately the answer was 'myself,''' he said in a recent interview. The following are excerpts from that conversation.

Ford:  Was [commenting on politics] something that you had to ponder for a while, or did it happen organically?

White: It's very interesting to be doing an interview of this nature [laughs]. I've gotten so comfortable with my go-to answers regarding sport and figure skating. I'm a bit nervous to take this on publicly, both in this interview and via social media. I've long been interested in politics, but I never expected myself to become a political commentator, objector or relatively outspoken person one way or the other. It had less to do with being an athlete and more to do just with the fact that I really have worked hard for people to like me. And I have always enjoyed being able to make people happy. Unfortunately, it's always seemed to be that when you step into the political realm, you don't get the benefit of the doubt any more. That's weighed on me.

Following the election, I wasn't happy with the result. I understand the way politics work, as a living, breathing organism in our society, and that so often, change is revered for the sake of change. I got it. But I did, at that moment, recognize that being upset with the way the election turned out, I could really only hold myself accountable, as I hadn't participated as a vocal, active citizen in the process. I determined that if I want to be able to be at peace with myself, I have to take a larger role. I'm almost as surprised as some of my skating fans that follow me on Twitter.

Ford:  I don't know what percentage of your replies [on Twitter] you're responding to, but it seems like a lot. What's that like?

White:  That's an important part of it for me. Being able to engage with people is ultimately what will allow us to coalesce as a nation. I understand the deep divide and I understand partisan politics -- it doesn't seem there's an easy way out. So I think beyond being able to engage people with different kinds of ideological beliefs, and set a baseline for expectations that could be universally applied to our political system, that's a way in which you can start to heal what has been a grueling process that started with the campaigning for this last election.

We're all coming at this from very different life experiences. To be a good citizen, you have to be able to come to the table with an open mind and a respect for the diversity of the people you'll be dealing with, to learn something as well as contribute. On Twitter, it can be difficult. You're stuck with 140 characters, but that doesn't mean you can't give people an opportunity to listen to something they might not have heard before, in a respectful way. Being able to listen to people, even via social media, and make them feel they've been heard and understood, even if you disagree vehemently, I think that's something they can take with them and allow them a better way to enter into the next conversation they have with someone. It's been very important for me to engage with those who raise objections -- but also those who agree with me -- but do so in a way that I don't think is conducive to a healthy conversation. I have taken stands against people who, you know, they're trying to be funny, they're trying to be witty, I get that. So much of dealing with things that scare you is to trying to make it funny. But when that "funny" is at the expense of someone else, you put them in a defensive posture, and it's certainly not going to solve any problems.

Ford:  Has it been hard to be restrained? Are there times when you draft a tweet and say, "No, I'm gonna trash that one.''

White:  Yeah, of course. I'm fallible. I don't expect that all my interactions have been perfect or will be perfect. But I do have very high expectations for myself because I recognize that what's at stake is much bigger than being petty. It's so easy to be petty when you think there's no hope you'll be able to even have a respectful conversation. That's how it can often devolve. Online, when you're not face to face with someone, you can ignore they're a real person. Lately I have gotten some of those messages where it's like, 'OK, this person clearly isn't trying to add anything or take away anything. They might not even believe what they're saying, they just get a kick out of being mean.' You have to be aware of what you're dealing with. I generally try not to block people. You deserve more than one opportunity to bring something constructive to the table. Who knows what epiphany someone could have?

Ford:  Skating can be a very snarky, subjective environment. But I've got to believe the worst of what you experienced then is nothing compared to what you could experience now.

White:  As an athlete, I always had a very stoic approach. I want to apologize, but it was probably the right way of handling myself when we were competing -- I wasn't a good interview. I didn't say interesting things. I probably said about the same thing in 90 percent of my interviews for about eight years. But for me, it was always a matter of show, don't tell.   If I had something to say, I did it by practicing hard, being consistent, keeping a level head and going out and doing my best. I think that allowed me to stay away from making critical mistakes at the wrong times. I feel the same way now. As long as you take an intelligent and measured approach to the things that matter to you, and you do so with an open mind and a kind heart, thinking about more than just yourself, then you can't be disappointed with the outcome. I feel that way about Twitter, and I feel that way about politics, and I feel that way about life. I think it's served me well so far. If through my actions and my words I can give strength, or courage, or a new take on the same information to 10 percent of the people who hear me or listen to me or care about what I say, then I think that will have been worth it. Even if zero percent are interested in what I have to say, I can't be disappointed in my own effort. That's certainly something I've taken from what I had to go through in skating.

Ford:  You're still in that skating world, making a living in a different way, and I assume will do so indefinitely. Your sponsors, your agent -- have there been any uncomfortable conversations?

White:  I haven't had a direct conversation with anyone about it. I know my parents are proud, which means a lot to me. Taking my tone and my approach into account, I don't think there's much to be worried about. Ultimately, when you feel as strongly as I do about questions of morality and ethics, you can't sell yourself short on that. There is a balancing act, of course. But I feel a great sense of duty to the country that allowed me the opportunity to have such a fantastic life, to represent them at the Olympics. I guess if there's an issue that ever arises, I'll have to deal with that. Right now, I feel fortunate that I haven't had any pressure to stay quiet.

Ford: Is it possible we would see you out marching?

White:  Yes, absolutely. It's been exciting to see the way the public has responded. It's not easy to go out and take a stand for something you believe in. But that's how we started this country. It's a way of getting people -- not to think the same way, but to really think hard about what it is our country should be representative of.