#i will not name anyone except privately and only for the purposes of a block. i refuse to enable harassment

[thatonebirbnerd]

On Fandom Caucasity

Disclaimer before I begin: I am not infallible and I am not immune to bias. If I have made an error in wording, something just doesn't read the way it should, or if you think this post is pointless or misguided, you are free to tell me without fear of a hostile response and I will act accordingly.

I became acquainted with the term used in this title recently. As a white/Ashkenazi woman, it's almost certainly not mine to use, but as someone who is quite tired of the racist micro- and macroaggressions in the Guild Wars 2 fandom, I would appreciate if I could use it to make a point. Thank you for your understanding.

---

Caucasity rhymes with "audacity" (for good reason) and denotes a stereotypical white person's behavior, most commonly including arrogance and entitlement. More specifically, you might say someone has the caucasity to do something racist and then throw a fit when they're called out for it.

Unfortunately, I have seen this specific scenario play out several times here, most recently with someone who I don't think intended their post to come across as badly as it did. OP in this case devised a well-intentioned headcanon, but fell into a trap of racist implications and got frustrated when they were called out for it. The fallacy they fell to here is the idea that BIPOC have to do something to earn representation in media. To be clear, since this was most likely a product of internalized bias rather than active bigotry, I give said OP the benefit of the doubt, and would merely appreciate it if they apologized to those affected and did some self-reflection. But their response as it stands currently is an example of caucasity in action.

Previous instances have involved things like Braham being drawn or replicated in-game with pale skin, which I see as a more egregious and intentional decision, and a good reason to cease interaction with the people responsible. Maybe his red hair might be tripping some internalized-racist default settings in people's brains, I don't know what their excuses are - but his skin tone is a mellow medium brown, and there is no changing that. There was also another very questionable post about the use of the makeover kit, but I can't recall the exact details right now. I just know that it's always about norn, because apparently people assume they have to be a mono-ethnoculture just because they take heavy inspiration from Norse legend.

Of course, such an assumption ignores the fact that norn culture is also heavily inspired by indigenous American beliefs; sadly, we all know ArenaNet hasn't been the most respectful of that either. I feel it is also worth some note that none of this controversy about Canthan norn previously happened with dark-skinned norn, but I will only leave that there as food for thought rather than making extrapolations.

Anyway. Here's what I have to say about the two most common reactions I see when people are called out.

"Wait, no, I meant this instead!" I understand that it hurts to have your internalized biases exposed; it should be taken for granted that since I'm from a sheltered white upper-middle-class family, I've been there plenty of times. I also understand that if you’re not straight and/or cis, you might assume you are immune to internalized biases since you had to overcome a subset of them to be yourself. (Sorry, but no, you are not immune to further bias; no one is.) I know it’s easy to get upset, especially if you’re rejection-sensitive (hi), but all you have to do is take a deep breath, apologize, learn from your mistakes, and move on.

"Why does it matter?" I hear this most often from Europeans. It's true that different parts of the world have a different idea of racial divides, and that you might see objections as being American-centric. But in doing something like erasing the features Braham got from his dad just because you can't actually look at Borje the Sun Chaser and connect the genetic dots in your head, you're ignoring, erasing, and thus offending the real people behind the screen, around the world, who see themselves represented in Braham. That is why your decisions matter.

The above is also, I would say, also a result of the concept of BIPOC having to work to deserve representation - an idea you will see more boldly visible among, let’s say, fans of The Rings of Power who get angry about seeing dark-skinned elves. And just so I’ve said this out loud: they don't have to do anything. Let them exist, and let them exist on your screen; relinquish the caucasity, the entitlement and arrogance, that makes you get in their way. If that idea threatens you, please do some thinking about it, for all our sakes.

--

Someone else in the GW2 community was the spark for my writing this post and provided a few crucial points, and though they requested anonymity, I'd like to thank them anyway for their contributions and insight.

[insanescriptist]

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

[geraniumplant]

RULES LIST FOR GERANIUMPLANT

Welcome to my roleplay blog. Here is the general info: private/ selective /mutuals only / 20+. I am not affiliated with any fandom. I am not pro or anti ship. I ship what I want & that's the end of it. If you have a problem with that you do not need to follow. I like to keep my dash & blog tight-knit, but I'm not against meeting new people if we vibe.

About the mun: My name is Wolf. I am 25+ she/her/they/them. I have a learning disorder, dyscalculia & dyslexia. Please be patient with me. I tend to switch between past & present tense & write in a stream of consciousness. Spelling mistakes & grammar mistakes are likely on my end, as this isn't my strong point. (but I try) I love writing regardless & use it as a form of escapism, but also to meet cool people with similar interests. I'm always happy to chat or plot with mutuals. I'm very easygoing & I care about the comfort of my writing partners.

My writing tends to deal with themes of identity, gender, sexuality, trauma, mental illness & sometimes suicide. I will tag these themes to the best of my ability with the main tag #usfw (unsafe for work). That being said, it is possible themes such as homophobia might come up in my writing. This will never be glorified or encouraged as its purpose is to explore the negative effects it has on my muses. If you have any concerns you are more than welcome to message me privately.

Anyone younger than 20 who follows/interacts with me will be blocked. I am not comfortable roleplaying with anyone under the age of 20.

The main muse of this blog is Vash the Stampede from Trigun. If you do not specify a muse in asks & tagged content I will answer as Vash.

This blog is mobile based. 99% of the time I am on mobile. If I can’t read your rules, muse list, writing, etc. because of small or fancy font I most likely won’t follow.

If I follow you that means I am interested in roleplaying with you. Think of it as me giving you permission to write with me & send me things.

You do not need to ask to turn asks into threads. I encourage this. If I send you something it means I am eager to write with you.

I am fine with shipping but I will not force someone to roleplay a pairing they do not like. I ask that you do the same in  return.  

Smut in roleplays will be asked to be continued on Discord if possible. This applies only to smut. Kissing, making out, etc. will be present here.

I am selective with OCs due to bad experiences in the past. Please  do not pester me if I decline an offer to roleplay with your OC. It  isn’t anything personal. This is for my own comfort. If you're an OC blog & I follow you first or follow back then that means we're good to write.

I will roleplay almost anything except for the following: Do not  ask me to have my character rape or violate yours. Relationships must be  consensual. No  underage ships or sexual relationships with minors. No dead baby jokes, severely harming, abusing or killing children & animals. I do not wish to read or write detailed scenes of birth, abortions, miscarriages, genital mutilation, or anything too graphic regarding medical procedures, injury, piss, vore, or extremely graphic body horror.  (light body horror is fine)

I will not tolerate: drama or call out posts, anon hate, racism, any kind of homo or transphobia, bashing people for their religion, politics, ethnicity, or beliefs. I tend to unfollow people who post too much ooc negativity, or politics of any kind. Roleplaying is my escapism & I’m not here for any real world drama.

The respect you give will be the respect you receive. ♥

( Please like if you have read & agree to the rules. This is not required but it does make me feel better. )

The following is a list of Fandoms/characters I have no interest in interacting with...

Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss // FNAF // My Hero Academia // One Peice // Naruto // Harry potter // video games such as Mario, Sonic, & Pokemon. // Comics such as Marvel & DC. (No hate towards these fandoms or anyone who likes them. I just have no interest in roleplaying them. I am unlikely to follow blogs related to these fandoms unless you're a multi-muse. )

[xxlordalexanderxx]

WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN INTERACTING WITH MY BLOG - Customizable Edition

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Slurku or Slurkmun

Pronouns: She/Her

Blog type: single muse | Multi-muse | non selective | semi selective | selective| mutuals only | private | other (specify)

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: Desensitized af

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow bad / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other (specify)

Reblog karma: I practice it | I practice it sometimes | I don't practice it | I always reblog memes from the source | indifferent | other (specify)

Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | [space for eventual additions / explanations]

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT

Reblog from source ffs

Don't constantly spam my IMs /Respect my boundaries

Do not infomod/Metagame

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

Random fight threads annoy me and I will ignore them if there isn't a valid reason for it, story driven or plotted otherwise, not interested. Alex is not anyone's punching bag just because he's big and a villian.

When people don't give you a chance to make a decision or leave openings for you. This is suppose to be a cooperative hobby.

Muse competition is stupid and there is nothing stopping me from making my characters god if I wanted too. Anyone can. But I won't cuz that's bad storytelling and I want to be approachable.

Muses always constantly being annoying just for the sake of it, at some point it's not funny anymore.

Not reading my rules

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT)BLOCKING

A personal followed and keeps trying to interact

Not interested in interacting and don't want your attention for personal reasons

Other party followed and they are underage

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFTBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

No longer interested

we don't really interact anymore

Writing styles clash/don't click

Being super weird about my muses and obsessive.

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

I missed the notification so I didn't get a chance to check the blog out

I'm not interested

The mun is super uptight about how they wanna RP and that's a turn off for me. Curate your space and RP how you want of course but we won't be compatible at all.

Underaged

Doesn't cut posts or do basic formatting/rps with rebloggable asks

Not enough info about the blog and muse

I don't do follow for follow

I read things in rules like "You muse will be killed, my muse causes issues constantly on purpose." That's annoying! Bye. I do make exceptions if people respect my boundaries though.

Your muse is impossible to harm, insanely smart and all knowing and so powerful it's pretty obvious how shit will go down in any situation. That's boring.

[inconcordia]

I MOVED SUNDAY BACK TO MY MULTIMUSE OVER AT @inominati !

#INCONCORDIA. Private and selective SUNDAY of Hoyo's Honkai: Star Rail. High enthusiasm, slow writing speed. Established in April 2024 and written by Min (30+). Not spoiler free. Duplicate friendly. [This blog will contain analyses and creative writing involving religious imagery for entertainment/roleplaying purposes - if this offends you due to your own religion, please refrain from engaging with my content.]

Under the light of the Harmony, all Wickedness is revealed.

GALLERY | MEMES | HEADCANONS

BLOG ROLL: vidyadawn (Dan Heng) | dianoetikon (Dr. Ratio) | delusionaid (Genshin Impact multimuse)

Click below for your guide to the Dreamscape!

I. ABOUT ME. My name is Min, I'm over 30 years of age and I've been rping in various fandoms for over 15 years. I work during the week so replies are slow, but I'm online throughout the dayand available through DMs or discord (for mutuals only). I'm currently not caught up with the new update, but I don't mind spoilers.

II. REQUIREMENTS. If you are interested in roleplaying with me, you must be at least 18 years of age, ideally over 21, even more idealier over 25. I make no exceptions for minors, regardless of thread content. I will gravitate towards H:SR canon muses, but I am open to OCs if the character appeals to me and crossovers if I can see a way to merge our worlds together.

III. WRITING.I prefer plotted threads and longer replies (on average I'll write 3-6 paragraphs), but I don't expect you to match length. What matters to me is the content of our posts and our ability to progress in the story we want to tell. I don't really do short convos anymore (unless it's dash crack) and I don't write unplotted starters because they often lead nowhere. If you have ideas for our muses, just message me and if you don't have ideas yet but would like to write, let's plot together :)

IV. MEMES. Best way to get something started with me is through memes. Any memes in my meme tag are available without time limit for all mutuals, so no need to ask first, just send in whatever tickles your fancy! Heads up: it might take me forever and three days to respond, but I will get there eventually. Feel free to reblog any meme posts directly from my blog, I don't mind that at all. Bonus: there's a high chance you'll get a meme reply from me 84 years after sending it, when you no longer remember it.

V. SHIPPING.I am very selective with shipping on this muse because I have very specific ideas of how Sunday feels about relationships between people, romantic and platonic, sex/ual desires and all things related. It's not off the table but I need and want to discuss the intricacies of this with my ship partner and make it work for both of us. That said, I don't mind ships that fall a little on the darker side - but it's not a requirement either. I don't insta-ship, especially not with Sunday, and once I do have a ship (or maybe more than one) I'll probably cap. If I write multiple ships, they are automatically in separate verses unless discussed otherwise. Don't be afraid to ask if you're interested in shipping, the worst case scenario could be that it doesn't work out.

VI. SOCIAL POLITICS.I am against callout and cancel culture and do not engage in it. Callouts will not be reblogged - I curate my dashboard my own way and I have no interest in being dragged into other people's fights. I don't respect publicly hating on fictional ships, characters or portrayals. I will never harass anyone or shame them for the fictional things they choose to write, I simply avoid, blacklist or block what I don't want to see. I believe the RPC would be a better place if people tried to be more tolerant, respectful and kind to one another.

Rules are subject to change. Thank you for reading this far! :)

[fantasywriter19]

1. Melody Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone Ch.2 Leaving Home Forever

“A precious find?” I asked dubiously. “What is that even supposed to mean? And why would mom have you take me out of school right now?”

“I can answer everything right now… or I can take you home, and your mother can answer any questions you have.”

I looked around. No one was even doing the classwork anymore, their gazes were so fixated on the man. “Fine,” I sighed, compiling all my papers together to put them away.

As I did that though, he stood back up and walked over to the teacher to talk to her some more. What else could he really ask of her if all he came for was me? I thought, slowing my progress to stare at my teacher. If I really listened, I could hear others' thoughts, but today was an exception. All I could hear was static… like I was being blocked off.

I zipped up my black messenger bag and threw it over my head to rest on my shoulder, wanting nothing more than to go home and find out what the point of all this was. Obviously this man had some type of ability to block me from reading thoughts, so all I could do was hope he answered everything truthfully. I won’t be able to personally get through to his brain. That’s a fact.

“Thank you, Miss Kold, you have been most gracious,” Albus Dumbledore said as I edged toward them. He then turned to me, “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” I mumbled.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Dumbledore!” Ms. Kold said cheerily as I followed him out the room. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Melody.”

“Bye,” I waved apathetically.

I followed him through the halls, staring at his back with uncertainty. If he was really a wizard, then I couldn’t do anything against him. If he wasn’t really a professor of a school of magic — actually kidnapping me — how was I supposed to defend myself? I didn’t have a wand, or any means of knowing how to really use my magic besides for the mind reading — and that obviously wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

I stopped walking, “How do I know I can trust you to actually take me home right now?”

He turned, a small smile lighting his face up, “Did Orele teach you to be this cautious around strangers?”

Orele (uh-rel-ee) is my mom’s name. Personally, I was kind of jealous of it. It rolls across the tongue so perfectly, and it’s simply elegant. My name is basically just another word for pretty music.

“No. I’m just naturally wary of others’ intentions,” I admitted. “Never trusting a stranger is a fundamental rule in my book.”

“Is it only because you know you cannot read my mind that you don’t trust me?”

I took a timid step back, “You sensed that?”

“I am capable of many things, Miss Gray. Knowing when you are trying to read thoughts is one of them. I take it your mother doesn’t know?”

I hesitated. I told her about me reading other people’s minds at the zoo while I was talking to the snakes, but the way I described it was like an accident. If she knew I did it on purpose… well, anyone could take a wild guess at how any good mother would react to that.

“If I keep this a secret, just between the two of us, would it help you trust me?”

What other choice is there? I thought wryly. If he’s a kidnapper, he’s way too good at noticing what’s going on around him anyway. I have no other choice. “I guess so.”

“Just a bit of friendly advice. When you attend my school, the thoughts of both students and teachers are theirs and theirs alone. If I find out you have been invading their private thoughts, the only solution would be expulsion.”

My blood went cold at the thought. I might not have been the most respectful of students, but I had never been suspended or expelled — my mom would kill me, and then revive me just to kill me again… not literally, but she might as well… I sighed thoughtfully, a threat like that could only be given by a school principal, or in his case a headmaster.

“Do I make myself clear, Miss Gray?”

I nodded reluctantly, “Yes sir… let’s just go already.”

We made our way outside, but he stopped in the middle of the staircase leading to the sidewalk.

He held his arm out, “Hold tight to my arm.”

“Why?” I asked hesitantly.

“I am going to Disapparate to the house — call it teleportation, if you must.”

With a shrug, I locked my arm with his, only to be thrown off by the immediate sensation of my feet losing ground. I held onto his arm for dear life as I felt like I was being squeezed through a tube. I couldn’t tell what was happening to my body as it also seemed to stretch out and compress in tandem with the tube… until everything felt normal again, and I saw we were on the front step to my home.

I took deep breaths as I silently thanked the ground for being steady under my shaking legs, touching a hand to my queasy stomach. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that ever again,” I choked out.

He opened the front door to wave me inside, “I can’t promise you anything.”

Why couldn’t traveling for a wizard be less painful? That was worse than a rollercoaster, I thought as I heeded his gestures.

The first thing I saw was mom attempting to find a comfortable position to sit on the couch, looking up in dismay as I entered the living room. “Hi, Honey…” she anxiously stated.

“Okay…” I said, breathing out some more air as I placed my bag on dad’s tan leather armchair. “What is going on with letting this strange guy —” I gestured at the tall man “— take me out of school early?”

She folded her hands together as she looked at me, “I contacted Dumbledore to come here soon as we finished talking about magic. I want you to go to Hogwarts… it’s the best school in the world and, with Dumbledore there, it is the safest… I went there when I was younger, of course, so we’ll have to move to London with —”

“Mom,” I had to interrupt. This wasn’t making any sense. “Why London?”

“The school is hidden somewhere in Scotland, and there’s the station in London where the train travels directly from there to Hogwarts.”

I felt Mr. Dumbledore’s eyes on me, as if he were studying me. I blocked my emotions so as not to look completely vulnerable. Even if he’s keeping my secret, I don’t like him much…

“Why would we have to move? Is there not a school around here?” I asked.

“Well, yes, in Massachusetts… but I prefer that you go to Hogwarts. The school term starts in September, and —”

“Well then, not to be ungrateful about the early leave, but why was it so important for me to be here right now? Why not wait until school is done? What is the importance of this man being here right now when I’m not going to start school until September?” I asked.

Mom sighed, turning to Mr. Dumbledore with a small smile, “I’m sorry, but could I speak to Melody about this alone for a minute? Then I’ll make sure she gets ready.”

“Ready?” I shrieked. “We’re still in May… at least the last I checked!”

“Of course,” Mr. Dumbledore tilted his head and left the room, as though my confusion was a minor mishap.

“Mom, what —”

She looked at me, lowering her voice to a deep whisper. “Sit. Down.”

I paused. That was never a good sign. But come on! I’m frustrated! I have no clue what’s going on! I sat down next to her and she swiftly placed her hands in mine.

“You have a lot to learn about the wizarding world. The best place to do so will be at Hogwarts, even if you’re not enrolled as a student yet. Professor Dumbledore, and maybe others, will teach you.”

“Why can’t you? Aren’t you coming?” I felt a knot appear in my stomach, dreading the answer I sensed coming.

I thought correctly. She shook her head regretfully, “I have some things to take care of here. Besides, I can’t travel with this package.” At ‘package,’ she stared pointedly at her stomach. “I also have to handle your father before I come to London.”

I attempted to snatch my hands away, but she held tightly to me.

“Before you yell again,” she whispered dangerously low, “it’s for the best. I don’t expect you to understand now, but you will in time. He… he can’t know about the wizarding world. It wouldn’t be beneficial to him.”

I built an emotional barrier in my head to keep from getting more upset. Being magical should feel like a blessing, not a curse, “Why can’t I stay here until you can go? It’d at least give me the chance to say goodbye to dad.”

Mom bit her lip, “I can’t teach you what Dumbledore can…. And before you worry so much about your father… you should know that he isn’t your real father.”

She’d said the last sentence so quickly that I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “I’m sorry, what did you say? He’s… I mean, I’m not… he isn’t —”

“No. Jim isn’t,” she asserted. “If you’re good while you’re with Dumbledore, maybe then I’ll tell you about your real father. In the meantime… I suggest you forget Jim.”

“It is not that simple!” I snapped, aghast by how suddenly she was trying to brush all the news off. Nothing was making any sense, and she wasn’t even giving me a moment to process all of it. “He’s been my dad for ten years, how are you just going to expect me to forget him?”

Though she was sad, a smile pushed through, “That’s my girl. I’m glad I did one thing right.”

I blinked back at her, “… What?”

A breathy laugh burst from her chest, “You look so lost, let me explain… one of the things I can’t stand in the wizarding world has been Pureblood supremacy. It’s where Pureblood wizards look down on everyone who isn’t. There are the Muggleborn wizards, born to non magical families, and there are also the Halfbloods that are a mix. There are more Halfblood wizards than anything, and Purebloods are dying out, but the last thing I need is for you to fall into the category of kids who will look down on Muggleborns.”

My mouth set into a thin line, I opened my mouth to retort further only for her to quickly place a finger against my lips.

She glanced around warily, dropping her hand from my mouth before whispering, “I know it’s all very sudden, and you want a better explanation, but seeing as we haven’t been given much time to do so… my hands are tied.”

Digesting the information, I looked away to see Professor Dumbledore standing back in the doorway. “Pardon me, Orele, but do you happen to have any lemon drops?”

“On the counter in the kitchen,” she readily answered, not even looking his way.

“Thank you,” he inclined his head and walked away again.

Mom touched a gentle hand to my cheek, tracing her thumb softly against the skin. “For what I mentioned before, ideally I need you to keep that mentality. Don’t look down on others because they were born with Muggles. Don’t even look down on others who — though born to a wizarding family — don’t have any magic of their own — they’re called squibs.

“My other rules, whether during your time at Hogwarts this summer or in the years to come, are these: respect your teachers — I mean it. I’ve been too lenient about you talking back to your teachers here. I don’t need you doing the same at Hogwarts. When you talk to a teacher, you will address them with sir, ma’am or professor. Same with the man in the other room, he is called Professor Dumbledore: say it with me.”

“Mom, I’m not a child, I get it —”

“Say it with me,” she stressed.

I sighed, mumbling “Professor Dumbledore” in sync with her.

“Yes?” he appeared in the doorway, the bowl of lemon drops in his hand while he popped one into his mouth.

“One more thing, Melody,” she said, moving her hand from my cheek to my chin to make sure I looked her in the eyes. “I can’t stop you from making enemies, but I will not stand by you making no friends. Make at least one friend this year.”

“Mom. Don’t I have until the first day of school for you to give me that warning?”

She grinned, “I may forget. Besides, it gives you plenty of time to come up with a plan for making a friend.”

“Thanks for the confidence, mom, I truly appreciate it,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“There goes your sarcasm,” she brushed her hand through my hair. “Now you better go get your things ready. Take Professor Dumbledore with you.”

“But mom…” my emotions were widespread. A large mixture of worried and confused. How am I supposed to pretend like any of this is okay? Or normal? “How long until you come get me?”

"Oh Melody, I know what you're thinking about... your birthday at the end of this month.”

I forced another emotional barrier up and nodded. “I’ve never had a birthday without you and dad.”

Mom entwined her pinkie with mine, “I promise that as soon as I come get you, we will spend a whole day together to celebrate it. It may be late, but it will be the best one yet. Okay?”

Reluctantly, I nodded, standing so I could start packing to try occupying my mind. Some magical day this is. I looked at Professor Dumbledore, “Follow me.” When I led him down the stairs to my room, I barely made it to the bottom before he took out his wand.

My closet door opened, and out shot my black and red suitcase. Once it made it to the middle of the room and opened, everything flew neatly into it. When it zipped back up, all that was left were my bed and bookshelf.

I walked forward and picked it up by the handle. It was heavy, but nothing was spilling out from the weight. I gave him one look and said, “Cheater.”

His eyes twinkled humorously.

Without all my clothes, pictures, and books.. my room seemed incredibly bare. I looked around, knowing it would be forever, perhaps even never, before I saw this room again. The possibility didn’t lighten my mood, because my life seemed to be taking a strange turn… in my own mind, for the worst.

I followed him back up the stairs and through the living room to the front door. Mom was already waiting by the exit.

She threw her arms around me once I set the suitcase down, “I’ll miss you Honey.”

“Jeez mom, I get that I’m going to leave, but you seem to be rushing me out the door,” I said, hugging her back. “Want me to go that badly?”

She chuckled hollowly, “Never. I’ll count the days till I see you again.”

We pulled apart. I reached for my suitcase, only it wasn’t where I put it… it was already outside, floating two feet off the ground next to Professor Dumbledore.

“I take that back. He’s rushing me out the door.”

“At least I know that so long as you’re with him, you’re safe,” mom stated.

My eyebrows furrowed, “This is the second time you’ve mentioned ‘safe.’ Are you going to explain what is so dangerous that I need him more than you and dad?”

“There are a great many dangers in this world, especially the wizarding world. I don’t know the situation in Britain at this point in time, but I’ll bet it’s the same as when I left.”

“Then might I suggest that staying here would be safer?” I had to ask. Last ditch attempt.

She shook her head vigorously, “No. Now shoo.”

I sighed, stepping outside next to the headmaster.

“Take my arm,” Professor Dumbledore said, holding his arm out.

I hesitated, looking back at mom who waved back at me with that same sad smile.

“Don’t worry, you will see your mother again.”

It kind of reassured me, so I put my arm over his, and he Disapparated.

< Previous Chapter -Table of Contents- Next Chapter >

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (10)

(New update coming in and things are getting heated!!! I wonder how our lovely little group’s gonna handle it??)

Ch.1 / Ch.9 / Ch. 11

Chapter 10: Adrenaline Rush

Possible Schools:

Rosemary High

Skyline Academy

Angelwood Institute

Liberty High

Summerfield Academy

Clearwater Institute

A sigh passed through Adrien’s lips as he crossed out the last name on his list, matching it with the other failed attempts. He just didn’t understand. Why was it so hard to find Marinette’s school? All he needed to do was search for high schools in the area and ask the students at each school whether she attended or not. It seemed simple enough at the time, but now another week and a half has gone by, and he’s no closer to finding her than he was two weeks ago when he asked for her school name as Chat Noir. 

Adrien set his pencil down and rubbed a hand over his face. He could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’ last time they talked, but that blonde guy insisted that there weren’t any new students there. Maybe he just hadn’t met her yet? No, that didn’t make any sense. School had already started by then. Adrien assumed the guy would notice if he suddenly had a new classmate. 

Ugh. If only he could visit her again.. Between patrol with his lady, akuma attacks, homework, and photoshoots, going out as Chat Noir to see Marinette was nearly impossible. He really needed to have a talk with Nathalie about getting more free time.

“Alya, Marinette is killing me!” 

Adrien glanced up from his paper- That’s right, he’s supposed to be working on his own school right now -just in time to see Lila wiping fake tears from her eyes as she walked into the classroom. Although they still had a good five or ten minutes before class started, she was the only who wasn’t currently seated at her desk, and judging by her greeting, Adrien was going to assume that she entered last on purpose.

“What!” Alya gasped, standing up from her desk to meet Lila halfway. “What did she do now?”

Lila sniffed and accepted the comforting hug that Alya offered. “She’s been sending me awful messages all week! Telling me she hates me and insulting me and that I should’ve just stayed in Italy where I belonged.”

Adrien shifted in his seat to hear the conversation better, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Another scheme to slander Marinette’s good name.. Why did Lila still feel the need to lie about her? The ravenette was gone, completely transferred to another school, too far to even breath about Lila’s fabrications. There was no reason to turn their classmates further against her. (if that was even possible at this point)

“She told you what?!” Alya blanched, pulling back to grab Lila’s shoulders. “I can’t believe her! wasn’t sabotaging the forms you needed to be class president enough? Why can’t she leave you alone!”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Now that lie had a reason to it. He knew first hand how thick those stacks of forms can be since he’s helped Marinette carry them a few times, and Lila was obviously too lazy or too unqualified (or both) to sift through all of that mess by herself. What Adrien didn’t understand about the lie, though, was why she had to drag Marinette into it. Again. Why not lie about feeling unwell? Or simply ask for time to adjust to the role that had practically been dumped onto her? Any of those excuses would not only have been easier to say, as they didn’t involve anyone but herself, but they probably would have been accepted just as wholly. So why? It was as though Marinette became a crutch for Lila, which he supposed made sense. Building onto a widely accepted lie would be much simpler than creating a million small lies, but it certainly came with a risk. For example, if Adrien were to, say, kick that crutch right out from under her, she would probably flounder around on the floor with no way to get back up again. 

This left Adrien with another important question: How was he going to do it? So far, his friends have been sticking to her like glue and taking in her words like they were given directly from the Bible. On top of that, Alya seems to have become Lila’s official guard dog. How was he supposed to work around that? Adrien couldn’t confront the brunette publicly, because Marinette was proof that that never ended well, and confronting Lila privately didn’t help either, because she would only blow him off again. No, he needed to focus on outing her to his classmates directly, but he also needed to be subtle about it. Which meant..

Which meant he’d have to beat her at her own game.

“That’s crazy!” Adrien piped up, plastering on a surprised and disgusted expression. “Can I see the texts?”

Lila and Alya turned to him, both equally shocked by his comment. He normally kept to himself during conversations about Marinette.

“Oh..” Lila blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I mean, of course! It’s just that.. they’re quite personal, you know.. She said some things that were close to home..”

“We completely understand.” Alya assured. 

“Completely,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I want to see how bad it is. Those texts can be considered harassment if you don’t feel safe.”

Alya frowned at him, but a spark arose in Lila’s eyes, one that was no doubt fueled by the thought of getting Marinette into trouble with the law. Adrien would never understand the hatred that Lila harbored for the ravenette, but he definitely knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble!” The brunette said with feigned concern. “But.. if you think it will help..”

She made a show of tentatively pulling out her phone and handing it to Adrien. He wasted no time snatching it from her hands and pulling up the texting app. If she was giving him the phone, she most likely had a series of fake texts to back up her story. (and they would be fake. Marinette was too nice to outwardly insult or bully others. Besides, she wouldn’t have the time even if she wanted to, what with her new school, homework, and fashion designs that she needed to tend to.)

Sure enough, he found messages upon messages of insults under the contact name “Marinette”. Things like “You’re only a model because of Gabriel’s pity and charity programs”, “You made our school’s reputation so pathetic that I had to leave”, and “They’ll find out soon that you’re too stupid to be a decent class rep.” were only the tip of the iceberg. Adrien noted the fact that there weren’t any comments about Lila’s looks specifically- she probably couldn’t think of any insults like that herself, since she was obviously so fashionable -but other than, the texts appeared to be authentic.

That is, except for the phone number.

Adrien slid further into his desk and pulled out his own phone to unlock it. A swift comparison between the two contacts proved not only that they had different phone numbers for Marinette, but that the phone number used for the harassing texts was actually the phone number that Adrien had for Lila. She must have texted herself, then deleted the doubles to make it look like a regular conversation between two people. Adrien had to hand it to her, it was a clever set-up. 

But not clever enough.

“Wow, this is awful.” Adrien declared, ensuring that both girls along with a few of their other classmates could hear him. “I’m going to text Marinette about this right now. Do you mind if I copy the number from your phone to text her, though? Some of my contacts got deleted a while back.”

Lila’s eyes widened, and panic briefly flickered across her features. 

“O-Oh, um- you really don’t have to do that-” She tried to say as she reached for her phone. 

Adrien pulled it back up with a smile. “Oh, but I want to! We can’t let Marinette get away with things like this.”

“Yeah, he’s right!” Alya eagerly agreed. “Let him talk to her. That should really pack a punch for Marinette.”

Although the comment was a bit odd, Adrien nodded along, because as long as Alya was on his side, this plan should work perfectly. 

“I’m typing in the number to call right now.” He announced, quickly punching in each digit. His only regret in that moment was that he couldn’t see Lila’s expression as he got closer to ‘accidentally’ outing her. However, the sheer panic in her voice was still enough to make his smile widen to a grin.

“No, you can’t!” She nearly shrieked, lunging over Adrien for her phone. If the class’ eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely were now. 

“Don’t worry, Lila.” Adrien said innocently as he pressed ‘call’ on the number. “I won’t tell her that you gave me her number.”

As expected, Lila’s phone immediately began to ring. He watched as the blood drained from her features, and she scrambled to turn off the device before it could finish the first ring. It was a decent move, in his opinion, but that didn’t stop the class from staring at her with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity.

“What was that?” Alya asked, leaning forward to help Lila get off of Adrien, “Was your phone ringing?”

“No, no! It was- uhm -” Lila let out a nervous, little laugh.  It’d been so long since she had to fight for her lies to stick that she must have forgotten how to lie on the spot. What a shame.

“That was just a small sound my phone makes when it turns off.” She blurted out. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.”

Adrien pressed “end” on his call- because obviously he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lila’s phone off -and glanced around the classroom to gauge their reactions. Those closest to the conversation were warily watching the scene unfold with furrowed eyebrows, doubt clear on their expressions. The farther ones, however, nodded along with what Lila was saying. They probably hadn’t heard most of the conversation beforehand and therefore had no reason to question her. 

“Oh,” Alya said, accepting the bullcrap answer as always, “that’s not good. Do you want to use my charger in case you need your phone later?”

Lila offered a sweet smile, stray bits of her confidence floating back to her due to Alya’s reassurance. “Ah, I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you or anythi-”

A soft rumbling shook the ground, causing the Italian girl to trail off. Adrien turned to the window, his breath catching in his throat as his thumb instinctively brushed over his ring. Was now really the best time?

In the distance, a cloud of dust was rising into the air. He’d seen enough- and done enough -to know that only the mass destruction of buildings could create such a cloud, and the mayor hadn’t informed them of any pre-planned constructions.

“Yes!” Alya cheered, leaping down the classroom steps. Leave it to her to be the only one excited about another akuma attack. “Finally!  It feels like we haven’t had an akuma in weeks!”

“Alya, wait!” Nino called after her. He always hated her little escapades. 

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said as he stood up, “I’ll take care of her.”

Right after I take care of the akuma.

~~~~~~~~

The little hands of Felix’s black wrist watch ticked away well past 12:30, reminding him of his frustrating failure to set a timer for their lunch period. How could he have forgotten? The notion had to be ingrained into his muscle memory by now. Get up, go to school, burn through the first few classes, set a timer to not waste time, and go to lunch. How did it slip his mind?

“I can’t believe I didn’t ask this sooner,” Allegra remarked as they exited the café, “but what happened to your guys’ faces? I’m pretty sure they weren’t that red before.”

Felix glanced towards Claude and Marinette, the excuse to his forgetfulness finally returning. He’d been in the middle of setting the alarm when he saw their tomato-colored faces in front of the Chemistry lab. The sight must have been enough to throw away all thoughts of setting his alarm as he asked what happened. Nevertheless, Felix still had time to copy down some notes before his next class, and that would suit him just fine for today.

“Oh, man, how have I not told you yet?” Claude snorted. “It was hilarious!”

Marinette let out a light, yet playful scoff next to him. “Define ‘hilarious’.”

The group shared a small chuckle, and Claude jumped into the story of how they- well, how he spilled their chemicals in class. It surely couldn’t have been as interesting as the brunette let on, but Claude always loved to be dramatic. He made voices for Marinette’s comments- which she jokingly took offence towards due to the unrealistically high pitch -and flailed his arms about while explaining how he poured the chemicals into a bag and mixed them. Claude even made a point to throw out his arms while mimicking the sound of an explosion when he got to the part of the story where the chemicals overflowed.

One of those arms happened to smack Felix in the shoulder, which easily brought a glare out of the blonde. If Claude was this energetic now, there was no telling how bad he was going to be during Allegra’s sleepover. In fact, the whole group was probably going to go overboard. Something about sleepovers tended to bring out the most outgoing side of a person, which was why Felix loathed them. He had to sit there and listen to everyone snort and laugh and be loud the entire evening without the comfort that he might be able to leave within an hour or two. It was torture, simply put.

And yet, he decided to go. All for the ludicrous thought that he might be able to ask Marinette more questions about her relations to Agreste and her old school once- or if -the night provided them a moment of privacy. The motivation itself was outright foolish if he were honest with himself. Even if he did acquire a “decent moment” to bring up the subject, she would most likely be uncomfortable talking about it, and dragging a person through the past that they’re deliberately trying to run from isn’t pleasant for anyone involved. That’s why he’s refrained from asking about it again so far.

Felix needed to find some other way to sedate his curiosity towards her. He did.. But how else was he going to find out why an aspiring fashion designer would run from the supposed affections of a top designer’s son? Felix guessed that it might be something like sexual harassment or another, equally disgusting treachery, but then what about the chest of gifts? Where her affections for the model had been clear? What type of fallout must one have with another person to risk their entire dream career just to escape them?

Felix shook his head slightly to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to barrage Marinette with question after question just to stop his mind from constantly turning when it probably wouldn’t stop anyway. Marinette was Marinette. A classmate of his that was kind, clumsy yet capable, overly-generous, determined, weirdly strong for someone of her stature, and a mystery in more ways than one when it came to the life she lived. That was going to have to be enough for him.

“You should have seen it, Allegra.” Claude said with a grin, pulling Felix back to the present. He’d somewhat forgotten that the brunette was even talking.

“It was like the whole bag of Phenol Red just went-”

A large crash erupted to the left of them, followed by a strong gust of wind that pushed them all off of their feet. Felix hit the pavement with a grunt, and Marinette landed on top of him a second later, sucking the rest of the air from his lungs. Screams pierced the air, disorienting him further- why were they screaming? What made the crash? How did it create enough wind to knock them over? -but Marinette sat up immediately. She turned to the source of the crash, tense and ready, as though she already knew what they were dealing with, and Felix couldn’t be more confused. Why did she look like she was about to fight something? (And why did he feel like she would win?)

“Do not be afraid!” A voice yelled over the crowds, drawing Felix’s gaze to a woman standing a few yards away from them. She was dressed in dark and light blues, save for her white elbow-length cloak and her white skirt that appeared to be split into several different pieces of cloth. “I’ve come to help! Not just you, but the world!”

Felix’s eyes widened, an entirely new form of terror taking hold of his body. This wasn’t.. This couldn’t be an akuma, right? She looked different than the ones he’d seen on the news, more human. If it weren’t for her white and dark blue mask and the large fan in her hands that seemed to be controlling the wind, he would have thought that she was a normal civilian merely passing by. 

“Our planets have been spoiled by the bigger companies for too long!” The woman continued, even though people ran as she spoke. “It’s time we take matters into our own hands!”

His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to move, but he couldn’t. His entire being was cemented to the spot in fear of what might happen next. What if this akuma was dangerous? What if her powers possessed people like that Pharaoh themed villain? Or completely killed them like Stoneheart or TimeTagger? Were they going to be her first victims? What if it-

A harsh tug interrupted his reeling thoughts, and suddenly, Felix was back on his feet and running. Running behind Marinette who was pulling them to safety. 

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” She quietly called over her shoulder. “Let’s hide behind the wooden fence while she’s distracted.”

Felix had enough sense to look ahead of them, where a small, wooden fence that held the cafe’s menu was placed. It wasn’t hard to notice under normal circumstances, but how did Marinette think of hiding there while the akuma was right behind them? How was she not paralyzed by the very idea of being caught?

“I’m going to destroy some stores around here, but only to get the heroes’ attention!” The akuma explained as the group scrambled passed the fence and pressed their backs against the wood. “Once I have the miraculous, I will restore everything to its rightful place, I promise!”

Felix tried to slow his rapid, shallow breaths as he sank further against the fence. She was going to destroy buildings? How many? Were they going to get hit with the debris? Where were the heroes that he’d heard so much about? Shouldn’t they be doing something about all of this?

“What do we do?” Claude whispered, panic clear in his tone as well. None of them had ever seen an akuma attack before. Well, none of them except Allan, but he’d been watching through a store window a safe distance away.

“Should we call the police?” Allegra nearly squeaked, tentatively reaching for her bag to pull out her phone. “They help with stuff like this too, right?”

“No need.” Marinette said. She was on the left side of Felix now, staying close to the edge of the fence and carefully peeking around it. “The police have akuma alerts on their phones to tell them when attacks happen. They're already on their way, I’m sure.”

Felix stared down at her with furrowed eyebrows, completely baffled by the lack of panic in her demeanor. This was the same girl who stumbled and stuttered to ask him for a pencil during class! Yet here she was, taking charge and giving orders and speaking perfectly. It was like she was a completely different person! How was that even possible? 

“Alright,” The ravenette spoke, turning back to them with a deathly serious gaze, “I’m going to run out and get her attention. While I’m doing that, you guys need to run as far away from here as you can and find a good basement to hide in until this is over.”

“What?” The group practically gasped in unison. She wanted to face the akuma alone?!

“Marinette, you’re not going anywhere!” Allegra insisted. “It’s not safe out there!”

“It’s less safe if we stay here.” She replied, moving to step out into the open.

Felix grabbed her wrist to yank her back. What was happening right now? 

“Are you insane?” He hissed unintentionally. “You can’t go out there! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Yeah, she’s not after us.” Allan agreed. “Only the buildings. Let’s just all run out of here together.”

Marinette glanced back at the group. “But there are still people in those buildings. I need to lure her to an empty street or at least stall until the heroes get here. If I don’t, people are definitely going to get hurt or worse.”

Felix’s grip on Marinette’s wrist tightened. He hadn’t thought about the crowds of people who were running inside for cover, but even so, what would she be able to do alone? The akuma was a powerful being, and they were merely civilians in the crossfire. What’s stopping it from crushing Marinette beneath its boot at the slightest whim? Who’s to say the akuma would even listen to Marinette if she did get its attention?

“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself for an extra second of time.” He told her. “Like you said, the police are on their way, which means the heroes will be here soon too. Let them handle it.”

A strange mix of urgency and frustration flickered across her features, and she tugged against his grip. “Felix, please, we don’t have time to argue-”

“I think I’ll start with this darling café.” The akuma crooned. “That should get some attention.”

The café walls crumbling apart was Felix’s only warning before the gust of wind made it to their little hide-out. It splintered the wood within seconds, and the group went flying, once again, into the pavement. 

Felix groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. How many times were they going to get thrown around? At least Marinette didn’t land on him this time.

Marinette.

The realization that Marinette was no longer with him washed over Felix like a bucket of ice cold water, and his gaze snapped upwards. He started to yell for her, but it was too late. Marinette was already on her feet, somehow recovering faster than all of them, and running towards the akuma head on. He could only watch in abject horror as she called out to it.

“Hey, airhead!” She yelled. “Do you really think this is the smartest plan?”

The akuma rounded on Marinette in an instant, and Felix sucked in a breath. No, no, no, no, what was she doing?

“My name is ‘Whirlwind’, thank you very much,” The woman snapped, “and I think it’s a brilliant plan. Do you think you can do something better?”

“Of course.” Marinette replied, crossing her arms. “If you’re already destroying buildings, why not go and destroy the big companies that you’re after in the first place? It’d be much more productive, don’t you think?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t she say that she wanted to avoid public places?

Whirlwind hummed. “Well, yes, but with all of the major hotels and tourist spots, it’s hard to tell which buildings to destroy, and I don’t have time to look.”

“I’ll show you where they are.” Marinette offered. “Think about it, destroying a big, company building is sure to attract more attention than taking down a little café, right?”

Whirlwind narrowed her eyes as she thought it over, and a part of Felix desperately hoped that she would decline Marinette’s suggestion. A bigger part of him prayed that the police or the heroes or somebody showed up to stop this before Marinette went too far.

“Alright.” Whirlwind smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to see someone else interested in saving the environment.”

With a flick of her fan, Whirlwind gathered a gust of wind around Marinette, causing the ravenette to rise into the air. She then gave herself a gust of wind, which caused her white skirt to start spinning around her. If Felix wasn’t going pale with dread over what might happen to his classmate, he would have found the unique fashion choice to be humorous, as it almost reminded him of a box fan. 

Allegra let out a horrified shriek, one that rattled Felix to his bones. This was really happening. Marinette was really being carried off by some maniac in a costume. What were they going to do? What could they do? Gosh, where were the heroes?

Felix grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just stand there and watch her be kidnapped or he’d never be able to look her in the eyes afterwards.

That’s right, he told himself. The heroes were going to win, and she was going to be just fine. 

Those thoughts didn’t stop him from sprinting after the akuma, though, even as the trio called after him to stop, even as the akuma rose higher into the air, out of his reach. Marinette couldn’t do this by herself, and although Felix’s presence probably wouldn’t make much of a difference either, he’d be darned if he didn’t try to help. 

“Don’t worry,” He huffed, comforting himself more than her as he darted through alleyways to keep up with them, “I’m right behind you.”

Tag list:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth​ @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx

[peach-pops]

May i request a hc where the reader is a delinquent third year at Nekoma and Kuroo catches a glimpse of her panties as she climbs down the ladder to the roof 🥺👉👈

Thank you for the request! I made the reader a sexual delinquent so there are suggestive themes but this is still SFW! I added a bit extra cause I didn’t want Kuroo just to stare at her ass lmao.

Nekoma’s Delinquent HC

Kuroo may seem like the total bad boy type at first glance, but he really is such a goody two shoes

Just because he’s the attractive captain of a well-rounded volleyball team should not dismiss the fact that he is the top of his class and a full-on STEM nerd 

He has a pretty good reputation around Nekoma and he wants to keep it that way. 

UNTILLLLL you came around 

he was minding his own business after practice until he saw you sneaking into the equipment room in the gym 

Of course, Curious Kuroo follows you and peaks inside because who the hell is trying to sneak into the equipment room- fuck it’s you

Everyone at Nekoma knew you as the delinquent third year who was known to have a pretty bad reputation 

*Cue that Regina George scene from Mean Girls*

“ I heard when Y/N L/N was a first-year, she slept with any third year who would give her a pack of cigarettes!”  

“ Y/N gave ‘roadside assistance ;)’ to Kobayashi- Sensei and that’s why her grade in his class is so high!”

“ Her idea of tutoring guys is taking them up to the roof of the school to give them half-decent handjobs.” 

Kuroo was pretty sure that most of the rumors about you weren’t true and even if they were, your sex life was none of anyone’s business

Except for the rumor about you sleeping with a teacher because um hell red flags lock that teacher up!!! 

“ Can I help you?” Kuroo asked suddenly as you turned around to face him

Your skirt was purposely rolled up even higher to show off your bare legs and your white button-up that was rolled up to your elbows lazily had a few missing buttons at the top, revealing a bit of your chest

Kuroo concentrated on keeping his eyes above your waist but he couldn’t look you straight in the face without getting red so he focused attention towards the wall closest to you

“ I’m good, thank you though,” you said casually as you turned back around and looked through the equipment room as if you were looking for something important 

If you ever needed to study or have a smoke, you found yourself using the gym’s equipment room because it was usually fairly private and there was a window so you wouldn’t suffocate in your own smoke

Hardly anyone intimidated Kuroo. He’s a pretty big dude and people would be dumb to try and start shit with him but for some reason, he was so intimidated by you 

You were so fascinating to him, all these rumors and yet, you always managed to get right back up and keep doing you. You were also insanely attractive but Kuroo would never admit it out loud because he didn’t want to sound like a tool 

No matter how intimidated he was by you, he still needed to keep people out of the equipment room who weren’t allowed in there

“ I wasn’t really asking,” Kuroo said as he walked into the equipment room with his hands in his pockets,” what are you doing in here L/N-chan?”

He wasn’t sure what you were looking for, maybe something to steal and sell? Maybe you had hidden drugs in the equipment room and it was like your secret stash 

“ That sounded like a question to me,” You answered back as you bent down to look between a stack of boxes,” don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time Kuroo-san.” 

His breath hitched for a moment because he was so sure you didn’t even know who he was and from the silence that followed after, you were quick to notice his expression as you bent down to pick up the textbook you were searching for

“ Second year, Nakumura-Sensei’s physics class,” You reminded him as you swept some dust off the surface of your math textbook,” you sat a few seats ahead of me and you always blocked the chalkboard with that crazy hair of yours.” 

Kuroo didn’t need to be reminded, he remembered how you would usually stroll into class late and how during most of the period would consist of you either sleeping or on your phone

No matter how late you arrived, you always managed to smile towards Kuroo because you always noticed how he would stop listening to the teacher when you walked in 

“ I’m surprised you remember that, you were hardly ever conscious in class,” Kuroo laughed cautiously as you shrugged and walked over towards him

You stood next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, making his body tense,“ Oh trust me, it’s hard to remember a face like yours.”

Kuroo only gulped as you squeezed his shoulder and walked out of the equipment room, leaving him completely stunned

His mind was all over the place because were you flirting with him? Do you just do that with everyone? Why was he getting worked up over a shoulder touch?!?!

More importantly, all he was thinking was how he wanted to see you again, even if it meant that he would be putting his reputation on the line

The next couple of weeks consisted of Kuroo keeping an eye out for you in the hallway and every time you two did happen to meet, you always smiled back at him and it always boosted his mood

He looked forward to seeing you in the halls, even if it was just for a few seconds because it meant that he was slowly making an impression on you 

all Kuroo wanted to do was have the chance to talk to you for a bit and get to know because damn, he was really falling for you just by seeing you in the halls

He talked about you so much to the point where Kenma had to invest in a good pair of headphones so he could tune him out

Kuroo usually minded his business when it came to drama but now, he was quick to call out shitty behavior whenever he heard people talk badly about you in class 

“ Did you see what Y/N was wearing today? I swear she’s asking for it-”

“ If you want to keep all of your teeth intact, I suggest you both keep her name out of your mouth.” 

That shut people up REAL QUICK 

Scary Kuroo is hot anyway 

Kuroo always felt protective towards any girl; he didn’t have any sisters but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stand up for girls when it came down to it. 

He was sure you two would never really become friends since your interaction consisted of acknowledging each other in the hallway until he spotted you outside the gym after practice with a smile on your face

“ Finally, took you long enough to finish. Come on, I wanna show you something,” You said as you grabbed his hand and led him towards the back of the school

His brain was like holding hands??? With A Female??? That’s a first

In the back of Kuroo’s mind, all he could think about were the rumors. Was something going to happen between the two of you? He wouldn’t mind but he wasn’t exactly sure what you were proposing and if he was mentally prepared for it

He’s a virgin yall come on he’s a whole dork remember? 

He didn’t really start to freak out until you led him to the ladder that led to the roof because oh shit, all he could think about was the ‘half-decent handjob’ rumors

Kuroo was pretty freaked out to climb up on the roof-it wasn’t that he was scared of heights but what if they got in trouble??? 

Kuroo had two options; A) He could say no and just go home because he knew mentally and physically, he wasn’t ready for certain things to happen with the two of you if it got hot and heavy B) He could suck it up and climb the damn ladder because he’s been wanting an excuse to talk to you for weeks and now he finally has the chance

“ Ladies first,” Kuroo said as you gladly went ahead of him 

“ Okay scaredy-cat”

He started to climb up behind you but when he looked up to see how much farther he had left, he realized he could see up your skirt and his eyes were glued on your red lace panties  

Kuroo pulled his eyes away from you and wanted to bang his head against the metal ladder. Was this all part of your masterplan??? To seduce him??? Because oh shit it might be working

“ If you don’t mind, I can feel your eyes burning into my ass,” You said from above him as Kuroo stammered out an apology 

You smiled to yourself as you stepped up on the last railing and threw your legs over onto the roof 

Kuroo lifted himself up and peeked his head over the ladder. You tried to help him up but he shook you off and insisted he was fine

From his three years at being at Nekoma, he didn’t even know there was a greenhouse on top of the school ( high school musical 3 vibes) 

You walked past Kuroo and when he saw you sit next to the edge of the roof, he felt a bit more comfortable since who would give a handjob while sitting on the edge of a roof? 

He sat down beside you as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it with your lighter. You offered him a pack but Kuroo shook his head and watched you instead

“ L/N-chan, why’d you bring me up here?” Kuroo asked as you exhaled smoke

“ For the view, duh,” You said as you nodded your head off towards the horizon

Kuroo turned his attention to the skyline and you were right. The sunset was never something Kuroo particularly paid attention to since he usually distracted himself when walking home but with the cityscape off in the distance and the soft sounds of traffic, he could feel himself softening and relaxing more than before

“ You know you’re the only one who bothers to calls me L/N-chan,” You said after a moment as Kuroo turned his attention back to you,” why do you do that?” 

“ What else would I call you?” Kuroo asked as if there was any other option 

“ ‘Nekoma’s Delinquent’, ‘ Trashy Alleycat’, ‘ Whore-chan’, or the classic old ‘slut’,” You answered simply as Kuroo felt his chest tighten up,” those seem to be pretty popular nicknames for me.” 

He wasn’t even sure what to say and he felt guilty because of it. He had never heard people call you that ( he knew he would knock out any guy who talked badly about you)  but it wasn’t like he ever stood up for you for the rumors before

“ I would never call you that, those names are disgusting.”

“ Can you blame them? I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about my sexual escapades by now, I could tell from how nervous you were once you saw the ladder going up to the roof . And for the record, I didn’t bring you up here to give you a ‘half decent handjob’... Even if I did, I don’t think I would be that bad,” You said with a convincing smirk but Kuroo could knew you were hurt by the comments

“ Why did you bring me up here then? Don’t get me wrong, the view is great and all but even then, why me?” Kuroo asked as you put out your cigarette beside you

You weren’t sure why and that was the honest answer. Even though the two of you hardly ever interacted, you felt like an actual human being around him instead of a piece of meat. 

“ Well why did you agree?” You changed the subject as Kuroo found himself thinking of how much he wanted to reveal 

“ I think you’re misunderstood and I want to get to know you.”

“ Oh please, you just want something from me like the other guys.”

“ No- kinda- but not what you think. I mean, I want to hang out with you sure but nothing sexual. Sure, I think you’re really attractive but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to do anything. I just want to get to know you, I swear,” Kuroo said genuinely as he saw your face soften,” your turn. Why did you bring me up here?” 

You inhaled deeply, as you played with your hands. Maybe, just maybe you had a small crush on Kuroo but of course, you would never admit it outloud

“ You’re...normal. You seem like a decent guy and honestly, nice guys are hard to come by nowadays, ” You said softly as he watched your demeanor change,” but you know if we hang out, people will say stuff.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at your request. He felt like he was back in grade school when kids would just ask each other to be friends and that was that.

“ Trust me, if we’re friends, they won’t ever say shit to our face and if they do, they’ll regret it.” 

You rolled your eyes at the boys threat but inhaled deeply,” Okay, that’s good enough for me.”

Lil Bonus: One day, Kuroo went to the bathroom during class and he heard the same two guys spreading some rumors about you and he was LIVID AS HELL

Deadass this boy didn’t even wait for an explanation, he just swung his fists into their faces so hard and one guy even lost a few teeth like 0.0

“ I fucking told you I would knock your teeth in didn’t I?” 

Ya he got detention for two weeks but he had no regrets 

Angry Kuroo is so hot my LORD

[ynscrazylife]

The Cold is Her Savior

A Wanda version was requested of “50% Ice, 50% Fire, 100% Smitten” so you ask and you shall receive! 

Requested by @capmarvelq

Summary: Y/N has a crush on Wanda, and Wanda has a crush on her. Y/N doesn’t like using her ice powers because she hates the cold, but she’s forced to when Wanda is in danger, and feelings are revealed. 

“Y/N, Wanda,” Steve said as he entered the Avengers Tower living room. The team had been sitting there, all chatting and watching the T.V. Y/N had been talking with Natasha and Wanda with Clint, but both women looked up when they heard their names. 

The Captain smiled, pausing before continuing. “I have a mission for you two.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows raised and her eyes lit up with interest - it wasn’t so common that you’d go on a mission with not all of the team, but that wasn’t it. Y/N was going on a mission with her crush, and she was beyond excited.

Little did she know that Wanda had returned her feelings, and she had gasped and grasped onto Clint’s arm in her surprise, nearly breaking it. 

Immediately, the two scrambled up to follow Steve to the conference room. The rest of the team poorly concealed their chuckles, seeing them both so energetic. Everyone was aware of their crushes on each other, except them. 

“I think Rogers paired them up on purpose,” Natasha whispered to Clint with a smirk. 

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

“Okay,” Steve began, closing the conference door and turning to the two Avengers. “We need you to gather intel on this private organization. We got a tip that they’re planning something against the Avengers and important information regarding it is stored inside one of the old members’ house. His family, who seem to be unaware of what he is doing, is hosting a gala and we expect some of the members of this organization to be there. You need to find the information before they do and, if possible, take the guys back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Banner will be coming for medical, just in case, and Barton will be coming to act from the van. We need you two out there because we think the guys have powers - Inhumans, maybe.” 

Y/N and Wanda nodded. 

“When do we leave?” Wanda asked. 

“Right after you get your disguises,” Steve answered. 

Y/N grinned. 

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

“See anyone suspicious?” 

“Clint, we literally just set foot into the place,” Y/N said quietly into her headpiece, rolling her eyes at the archer who couldn’t see her. Wanda caught that and flashed her a smile, obviously amused. 

Y/N nearly fainted. ‘Mission, Y/N. You and Wanda have a mission,’ she reminded herself sternly. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get cracking on seeing if I can identify our enemies,” Clint said, and they heard some shuffling. 

“You do that,” Wanda said, Y/N having joined the witch by her side so it wouldn’t look like Wanda was just talking to herself. “Y/N and I will dance.” 

Y/N stopped in her tracks, fear flooding her. She stared dumbly at the redhead for a moment. “W-what?” She spluttered, confused. 

“Dance, Y/N! We need to blend in,” Wanda said with a giggle. 

Oh, boy, did that giggle make Y/N’s heart flutter. 

“Okay,” she agreed quietly and nervously, and barely contained her excitement when Wanda led her onto the dance floor, as more classical music started playing. 

“You know the waltz?” Wanda asked, teasingly. 

As they danced, Y/N was sure that this was what heaven was. Wanda danced so gracefully, and Y/N’s cheeks burned, imagining how clumsy she was. She nearly stepped on her friend’s toes! Occasionally, the redhead would twirl her around, and Y/N couldn’t ignore the chill that’d go down her spine, nor could she deny how she felt so special and so loved.

“I’ve identified them and found out where the information is,” Clint broke in, effectively ruining Y/N’s great dream. She found herself feeling a little out of sorts. While dancing she almost forgot that they were doing something important. 

“The two guys by the bar, the one dancing with the women in the white dress to your right, and the two guys by the food table are them. I think whatever information is stored on a computer on the second floor, third room to the left,” Clint continued. 

Wanda twirled Y/N around once more before responding to him. “I can go find the information, and I’ll turn off comms to secure the cover. Y/N, you wanna keep them occupied?” She asked. 

Y/N nodded, but didn’t like the idea of Wanda turning her comms off. 

Together, the two thought up a tale and then managed to get to the two men by the bar. 

“You gentleman wouldn’t happen to know where the bathroom is?” Wanda asked. 

The men shared a glance. “Second floor, fourth door to your right,” the guy on the left answered. 

Wanda nodded, thanking him, before leaving. 

Y/N put on a smile as another song came on. She gasped. “Would one of you care to dance with me whilst I wait for my friend?” She asked. 

“Uhh, sure,” the guy on the right answered, and he stepped forward to take Y/N’s hands. 

“I’ll get drinks,” the other guy said. 

Y/N and the man danced for a couple minutes and his friend handed them drinks. Y/N sipped hers and continued to dance, while also casting glances on the room, keeping her eyes on all of their enemies. 

However, she started to feel a bit odd . . . It was probably nothing, however Y/N excused herself from her dancing partner for a moment to alert Clint. The dress she was wearing was actually her superhero suit (it could change its appearance quickly). The suit had a cool feature where it could analyze a liquid or food that seemed abnormal, in case of poison or knock-out gas. 

It only took a couple of moments for Clint to get back to her. “Y/N, Bruce looked it over. It’s slowly blocking your powers so eventually you won’t be able to use them until the liquid is out of your system. It only detects and works if it’s ingested by someone with powers,” he said quickly. 

“Shit,” Y/N whispered, because at the same time she saw two of the guys disappearing the same way Wanda had gone. 

She had to follow them, and she had to be quick.

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

Y/N took off frantically, but not that frantically to cause too much suspicion. As she walked to the stairs she saw the men get to the second floor, and when she got there herself, she heard a scream. 

Y/N ran forward, unable to comprehend what Clint was telling her, and burst into the room. 

Her amazing Wanda had her arms over her head, stumbling around in pain, as she stood in front of the computer. The men were on either side of her using their powers on her. 

Y/N went to use her ice power to send a fireball their way, so powerful that it’d make them both crash into the wall but would otherwise do no damage. However, nothing was happening. Whatever was in her drink must have deactivated her heating powers already. 

She had to use her cold powers, which she hated, or else both of them, plus the mission, were screwed. 

Y/N took a deep breath and with a wave of her hands, she made the floor underneath the two men pure ice. Then, thrusting her hands down and breaking her concentration, the ice cracked and both men fell through the floor to the first floor. 

Seconds later, though, Y/N screamed as she felt some sort of immense pain hit her. She stumbled, and the last thing she saw before collapsing and passing out was Wanda angrily using her powers on someone. 

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

“Please, Y/N, wake up, okay? I really, really need you too! Oh, god, I should have told you earlier, and now that Bruce says you might slip into a coma . . . I-I love you, Y/N! And . . . I need you to be awake so that I can actually tell you, cause I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.” 

Y/N didn’t open her eyes, but she was able to make out what this person - Wanda, was it? - was saying. Before she could respond, though, she drifted back into unconsciousness. 

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

When Y/N came to, she found herself lying in the Avengers Tower medical bay, hooked up to an I.V and other machines. She tried to recall what happened . . . Wanda was in danger . . . She used her ice powers . . . The rest was blank. Looking around the room, she spotted the very women in question sitting in a chair. 

“Y/N!” Wanda said, scrambling to get up and leaping to her side. 

“Hey . . .” Y/N said, finding that her voice was croaking. “What happened?” 

“Right after you saved me, one of the guys used his powers on you. Caused you a lot of pain, even more so because your powers were deactivating, and it overwhelmed you. You nearly slipped into a coma . . . but it’s been a day since the mission,” Wanda answered. 

Y/N nodded slowly, although her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she remembered something else . . . 

“Did you, uh, happen to confess your love to me?” She asked sheepishly. 

Wanda’s eyes went wide. “You heard that?” She asked, horrified. 

Y/N nodded again. “Yeah . . . For the record, I love you, too.” She smiled.

[foxtaild]

                                        𝐋𝐀𝐖                𝐎𝐅                𝐓𝐇𝐄                𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃           

𝐨𝐧𝐞.                            this    blog    is    highly    selective    &    pretty    much    private    ,    meaning    i    will    only    be    returning    follows    to    people    i    really    see    a    chance    to    interact    with.    sometimes    it    can    take    a    long    time    for    me    to    check    followers    ,    so    please    allow    a    week    for    me    to    check    out    your    blog.    if    after    a    week    i    still    haven't    followed    you    back    ,    that    likely    means    that    i    do    not    see    a    way    in    which    our    characters    can    interact    OR    that    i    feel    as    if    i    am    already    following    enough    people.    if    this    happens    to    you    ,        i    am    sorry.    i    am    trying    to    keep    this    account    as    easy    to    maintain    as    possible    as    i    do    already    have    another    blog    that    i    am    using    more    frequently    over    at                @evelicious.    

𝐭𝐰𝐨.                            there    will    be    a    high    level    of    not    safe    for    work    content    on    this    blog    due    to    the    nature    of    my    character.    i    will    be    tagging    everything    as    follows    :                death    tw    ,    gore    tw    ,    manipulation    tw            ...            the    only    exception    to    this    is    tagging    sexual    content.    thanks    to    tumblr's    ban    on    this    ,    i    will    be    using    the    tag    :                lemon    tw            &            suggestive    tw.        please    do    not    interact    with    this    blog    if    you    are    a    minor    ,    if    you    do    it    will    lead    to    me    hard    blocking    you    immediately.    

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.                            any    graphics    or    edits    you    see    on    this    blog    are    my    own.    the    exception    to    this    is    my    icon    border    ,    which    was    made    by    the    lovely                    @/unprocione    !                this    also    goes    for    any    headcanons    that    i    post.    i    ask    that    you    please    do    not    steal    from    me    ,    whether    it's    copying    a    graphic    that    i    have    made    or    a    headcanon.    this    kind    of    thing    makes    me    really    angry    and    if    i    see    anyone    stealing    from    me    i    will    hard    block    you    and    all    of    your    accounts.    

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.                            when    it    comes    to    writing    ,    i    use    small    text    &    triple    spaced    words    and    icons.    if    anything    is    unreadable    for    you    in    our    thread    ,    please    tell    me    as    i    am    happy    to    adjust    to    your    needs    !    as    for    me    ,    personally    i    can    read    pretty    much    everything    &    all    i    ask    is    that    you    cut    your    posts    when    making    replies    to    things.    otherwise    ,    graphics    &    icons    do    not    matter    so    much    to    me    and    i    am    happy    to    write    with    everyone.    

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞.                            i    have    been    around    in    the    tumblr/lol    community    for    a    long    time    ,    this    has    lead    me    to    decide    that    i    do    not    want    to    have    anything    to    do    with    the    league    of    legends    community.    there    are    a    few    blogs    i    will    follow    and    interact    with    from    that    fandom    ,    but    there    are    also    a    lot    that    i    will    steer    away    from.    this    is    not    because    i    have    any    personal    issues    with    anyone    here    ,    it    is    simply    because    the    amount    of    drama    i've    seen    in    this    fandom    is    just    a    huge    turn    off.    that    being    said    ,    if    i    see    any    drama    on    my    dash    i    will    simply    block    everyone    involved    and    try    to    stay    out    of    it    as    much    as    possible.    however    ,    i    do    support    calling    out    harmful    people    !    

𝐬𝐢𝐱.                            do    not    interact    with    me    if    you    support/write    the    following    :                incest    ,    rape    ,    homophobia    ,    transphobia    ,    racism    ,    aging    up    underage    characters    for    sexual    purposes    ,    white    wash    characters    ...    i    absolutely    do    not    support    any    of    these    things    &    if    i    see    it    on    my    dash    it's    a    straight    up    instablock    and    you're    going    on    my    dni    list.    as    of    right    now    nobody    is    on    that    list    and    i    hope    to    keep    it    that    way    ,    but    if    you    see    me    interacting    with    a    harmful    person    please    let    me    know    !    i    cannot    be    aware    of    everything    that    has    happened    in    the    community    due    to    my    low    activity.    

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.                            thank    you    for    reading    my    rules    ,    i    really    appreciate    it    !    my    name    is    reed    and    i    go    by    she/he    pronouns.    i    am    24    +    and    currently    living    in    the    south    of    france    with    my    wife.    i    do    play    league    of    legends    on    euw    and    i    do    have    discord    ,    if    you're    a    mutual    and    are    interested    in    those    please    shoot    me    a    message    and    i    will    be    happy    to    give    it    to    you.    

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Tell Me Everything

Follows Found Out, Akio, Chris Sees, and I’m Here

CW: References to murder, suicide, grief, pet whump, abduction, whump of a minor, ableism, Oliver Branch manages to be creepy even now in brief reference

He’s shorter than Ben thought he would be.

Ben sees him first, but, like of course he does - Akio Nakamura isn’t exactly famous but he has his own youtube channel and is like an Olympic-level athlete, so he’s pretty fucking recognizable... if you’ve spent two days scrolling through every Instagram photo of him on three different accounts that you can find. 

Ben showed up thirty minutes early, because Ben has never been late to a fucking thing in his life and something tells him this is maybe one of the most important things he’ll ever do, even though he doesn’t quite know why. 

Something about it keeps picking at his mind, taking it apart, unraveling him with the reality that someone fucking cared about Chris, before whatever happened. Chris doesn’t remember much, and Ben and Laken had done the googling and searching and shit, trying to get some idea of what the hell could have happened to make someone like Chris - bouncy and full of sunshine optimism even on his bad days - end up at a place like WRU.

They’d found nothing a first. But Ben hadn’t known what he was looking for, then. Now that he knows what to look for, he can’t stop finding things. He feels like a detective or someone who has lost his mind, desperately piecing together a life that was interrupted, like someone disappearing mid-sentence, and Ben is following a trail of the words he said before. 

He finds human-interest stories from ten years ago, digitized articles from old community newspapers. He finds more photos from the gym, photos where the redheaded boy is in the background, or in the front always looking slightly off to one side, rarely smiling for the camera but happy to smile as long as he didn’t have to look right at it.

He finds out Veronica Higgs, murdered in the double-homicide that had destroyed the life of Tristan Higgs, had a facebook page, and it’s marked as In Memorial. So is her husband’s, but Paul Higgs’s page is private and his profile photo is a meme that hasn’t been a thing since…

Since they died.

Something about that makes his throat close up as he scrolls Ronnie’s last few public updates, the scattering of people who have left comments saying they miss her, they’re thinking of her, they hope she’s in a better place. Comments are left on the last post like clockwork, once a year, by the same few people. 

Thinking of you today, Ronnie. 

Saw your favorite bird today!

Hope you and Tris and Paul are happy wherever you are now, Ronnie. I take comfort in knowing you’re still together.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Ronnie!

Left flowers for you today, Ronnie. Jennifer did a routine this year that uses some of Tristan’s music, we’re always thinking of you!

Thinking of you

Miss you

Hope you three are happy together

Miss you, big sister, always.

One day I’ll stop leaving comments like you’re still here. I was watching the old videos and gosh, I couldn’t help but think how proud we were of our boys back then! Rest in peace. Give Tris a kiss for me. That’s Aimi Nakamura, that’s Akio’s mom. Her profile photo is her with her arms around Akio himself, wearing his leotard and holding up a medal with a bright smile, and a younger teenager who must be his little sister - she’s just wearing regular clothes. Feeling like a stalker, Ben opens the mom’s facebook page in a new tab. He absolutely does not look at the photos of Akio she’s posted. He does not do that at all.

He might do that later.

For now he goes back to Ronnie’s page, sees that her last post was brief, something about looking for a recipe, crowd-sourcing. Tris asked to try baked oysters, isn’t that funny? Only my kid, I swear. He’d said seafood is ‘slime’ except for tuna since toddlerhood, but no, this week he wants oysters. He said he wanted to try something new for once and he might as well go as far from the usual as he could get. I

One of the joys of all of this is how when he gets something in his head, I just go with him, and we see what’s on the other side of the jump, right? Watch him spit it right back out. 

It’s fucking ordinary. 

She posted it a couple days before she was murdered.

That doesn’t seem fair, does it? He just can’t wrap his head around it. She was a good mom taking care of her kid, she got some recipe ideas... but then she never cooked any of them because she just… died?

She died, and Tristan’s - Chris’s - dad died, and then there just wasn’t anybody? There wasn’t anybody to take care of a kid who couldn’t take care of himself yet? Nobody at-fucking-all, to keep Tristan safe and loved when the people who loved him the most were gone? 

How the hell did he go from placed in the care of relatives to just... gone? How did he go from gone to a rescued runaway pet with a new name and a new life? What happened in all that gray space in-between?

Ben blinks back tears.

Whatever it was... could that happen to Jamey? Ben’s whole family has built their existence on holding his little brother together through the ways the world wants to shred everything about him. He’s spent nearly all the life he remembers with his brother’s hand closed in the fabric of his shirt, shadowing him through the world, reminding him that you can’t trust everybody, not everyone has good intentions. 

Ben doesn’t even have to think before he’s moving in front of him to block out the noise and chaos of the world that Jamey just can't filter the way Ben can. He knows that when - hopefully forever from now - their parents die, Jamey’s going to move in with Ben. 

It’s never been a question. He doesn’t want it to be a question.

But... what if Ben wasn’t there? What would happen to Jamey if his Mom and Dad were gone, and nobody was there who wanted to keep Jamey safe? He can’t stop thinking about it. He cycles around and around, and Laken called him yesterday and said not to talk to Chris for a few days, that he saw the video and he’s not okay, and Ben’s not fucking okay, either, is he?

This could happen to Jamey.

Someone could see him, alone and vulnerable, and think, no one will stop me and he can’t stop me either, and then Jamey could disappear and then just not be Jamey anymore, and there wouldn’t be anyone to save him-

Ben looks up from his phone without focusing on anything, sniffing back the pain, the tight feeling in his chest at the idea of his little brother, disappearing into some dark hallway and never coming back. Just some photos on Instagram, a video of two, some mentions on somebody’s In Memorial Facebook page, that’s all that’s left of his silly, serious, annoying, funny little brother?

Like someone turned out the light on Jamey’s life and the world just forgets him, because his family isn’t there to keep him safe and Jamey can’t always tell who you can trust and who you can’t, and… and Chris can’t either, can he?

He just wants to think the best of everyone, he forgives everyone who hurts him so easily, so quickly, like it’s second-nature, like...

Did Tristan Higgs want to think good things about whoever did this, whoever had him erased, whoever handed him off to be turned into one of those blank empty-eyed dolls celebrities and rich people drag around? Did Tristan Higgs trust the person who gave him away to be erased, because he didn’t know not to?

Who the fuck bought him?

How did it all fucking happen?

The bell chimes. Akio Nakamura is right on time.

And he’s short.

He’s got a natural almost-smile on his face at all times, a hint of tan to his skin even now in the early spring, wearing a thin gray hoodie, unzipped over a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. His muscles aren’t visible, like this, but Ben has seen the videos and knows they’re there, the body of a trained athlete hidden under casual clothing. His hair isn’t as short as it is when he competes, in the videos Ben has already watched over and over entirely for research purposes. It’s a little longer, starting to flop over his forehead.

Dark eyes scan the interior of the store, and Ben raises one hand to catch his attention.

The smile brightens, briefly, with a quick nod - like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Ben feels that smile as a physical warmth in his chest - and he pushes the rest of the way inside, walking straight over. 

“Hey,” Akio says, and his voice is a little deeper than it seems in the youtube videos where he narrates, and Ben, for one shining moment, completely forgets how to speak his own fucking native language.

His mouth opens and nothing comes out - except maybe kind of a croak, which, please let that not have been audible - and he clears his throat, waiting for his brain and his body to remember how to work together. “Uh… um, h-hey,” He says, finally, and shifts uncomfortably. “You’re-... right. I’m, um. I’m Ben.”

“Yeah. I, I figured, you look just like your profile photo.” Akio laughs a little, dropping into a seat cross from him, sitting casually and letting his eyes roam over the mostly-empty interior of the shop, painted with bright colors and lined with posters about ice cream. 

Ben could not possibly have picked a worse place for a professional athlete to go to… meet and talk about his dead friend, could he? Oh, God. Oh he’s a fucking moron. “Right. Uh, sorry, I couldn’t-... when you asked to meet on the phone, I kind of blanked and this was the only place I could think of-”

“Hey, that’s all right. I like coming here, when I’m off from competing. It’s been a while. Hope you don’t mind if I stick with an iced coffee today, though, I’m not feeling ice cream.” Akio grins at him, and Ben’s knees might buckle if he wasn’t sitting down already. The smile takes over his entire face, lights it up, and it reminds him so much of Chris when he’s really happy, the way Chris smiles with his entire fucking body, not just his mouth. 

“Yeah, it’s… no problem, I’ll order, I picked here, anyway. Just the iced coffee?” 

“Yeah, please. Also, I should warn you - my mom is lurking across the street faking an interest in whatever they sell at Paisley Poses and she’ll probably stop pretending she’s not here and show up before we’re done. She’s… uh. Well, get the stuff, and then I’ll, um, I’ll explain.”

“Right. Got it.” Ben’s grip on his phone is white-knuckled as he stands up, aware of every movement of his body as he walks - and he walks normally, right? Not, like weird? It’s not like Akio is watching him walk anyway, probably - over to the cash register. The cashier, whose hair is dyed a pale faded sort of seafoam green, almost the color of those weird mint shakes you can buy from McDonald’s in April, takes his order with a flat affect, unbothered, uncaring.

Ben doesn’t know what he orders for himself. His mouth moves and words come out and then he realizes he doesn’t know what he just said. 

Whatever it is, he pays for it.

He takes the little number-on-a-stick, and carries it back to the table to wait. 

“Iced coffee it is,” He says a little breathlessly. “Um, it’ll be just a sec. They’ll bring it out with my… with mine.”

Shit, what the fuck did he even order for himself?

“No problem.” Akio’s eyes move over his face, considering. He’s sitting slouched a little, but it doesn’t look quite natural - like his posture is usually so much better and he’s trying to look like everyone else. Ben’s eyes are drawn to his hands, folded over his stomach, over wrinkled white shirt fabric. He has a blood-bruise under one thumbnail.

What a weird fucking thing to notice about someone.

“I-I don’t really know where to start,” Ben admits, slouching himself. He runs his fingers over the textured case of his phone, a charcoal-black with rough edges. Jamey likes the texture on his phone, will just sit and rub the pads of his fingers on it over and over and over again, smiling in a distant way, sitting next to Ben on the couch while Ben watches TV and Jamey, who can go days without speaking and is currently one hundred percent all about how they film movies and tv shows, explains every fucking cinematic trick every camera is using at any given moment.

It’s nice.

It’s how Jamey says he loves you, by sharing what’s up in his head whenever he can, and Ben - when he’s home - always tries to listen. 

“Yeah.” Akio laughs again, and Ben decides it’s a good laugh - strong, and not overly loud, and a little infectious. “Yeah, me neither. I don’t-... how do you even begin a conversation like this? Hello, nice to meet you, what do you know about my dead best friend? I don’t know what to say, just… we don’t even know they’re the same person, do we? Maybe they just look alike. Fuck.” Akio laughs once more, but this time it’s shaky, breathier. “I genuinely can’t decide if I want him to dead or not, I just-...”

Ben takes a breath, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone yesterday morning, exhausted and rambling after a night of not sleeping, their fear and grief and love for Chris, telling Ben to go ahead with this meeting, but Chris needed time. “They’re definitely the same person,” He says, voice low and quiet. “We, um. He saw the video you posted, and he kind of-... freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” Akio blinks, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes are focused completely on Ben’s face, which would make him blush if he weren’t trying not to look directly at him. “What do you mean?”

Ben swallows. “Um. Just. He’s-... he doesn’t remember. Or… he didn’t. Seeing the video might have… brought some stuff up. Like, a lot of... bad stuff.”

Fuck, I’ve never heard him scream like that. Laken’s voice, rough-edged, laced with their tears. I can’t believe… he needs a few days, he can’t go with you to see this guy, Ben. He’s-... he’s super fucked up right now. I’m so glad his brothers know what’s happening to him because I-I don’t know what to do and he won’t let me anywhere near him. 

Akio nods, slowly, and his hands worry at each other under the table, the smile faded and replaced with seriousness, uncertainty. “Yeah, when you said-... anyway, I looked the company up, and it’s-... it’s weird, I knew about pets, but I guess… I mean, he wasn’t old enough to…” 

“Um… yeah. So, um. I know, but they-... clearly they still did...”

They sit there in an awkward silence, and then Akio pulls his own phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. “Let me show you something. Tris and I shared our passwords for Instagram, way back, and when he-... went… when his aunt took his phone away-”

Ben’s eyebrows furrow. Something about that pricks at him. Miss you, big sister, always. 

“He went to live with his aunt?” Ben asks. The cashier reappears, setting a plain iced coffee down on the table, and Ben discovers he apparently ordered iced coffee with a scoop of ice cream for himself, and that’s not bad, good for him. It’s even his favorite ice cream, vanilla with almond and chocolate chips.

“Yeah, his Aunt Jo, his mom’s sister.” Akio shrugs one shoulder. “I never met her, she never came to meets or anything. Tris always said she was kind of a shit to him and his dad.” Something in his jaw is tightening - and the line of his jaw is catching Ben’s eyes entirely too much for the seriousness of this conversation. He can’t stop himself from looking. “She’s who he went to live with, after. She took his phone away because he was complaining to, um, to my mom and I - my mom and Ronnie, Mrs. Higgs, were… you know, team moms.” He shrugs, and Ben doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. “He was complaining about how she took him out of therapy, and… uh, you know, Tris needed therapy, just-... it helped him to, um-”

Ben swallows. “Self-regulate,” He says, softly. “Redirect potentially harmful stims. Figure out how to filter.”

“Right.” Akio smiles, a little shamefaced. “Sorry, it’s been… fucking years since I had to think about this so much. It’s… I would show my mom his messages, and my mom would call Jo and tell her to get him back in therapy and back to practice, but… you know, the social workers said there was nothing we could do about it. We weren’t family. We made complaints, but...” Akio slumps, closing his eyes briefly. "God, I don't even know if they did a home visit."

Ben closes his eyes. Jamey, trapped with someone who didn’t let him go to his own therapy. Jamey, nonverbal on hard days, trapped with someone who didn’t learn signing to talk to him during meltdowns like Ben’s family did. 

Jamey, trying to say he needed help with his hands again and again but no one’s listening, no one’s even trying anymore-

“Yeah,” Ben says, voice hoarse, and uses a thin plastic spoon with a long handle to get a bite of ice cream soaked in cold coffee taste, letting it dissolve on his tongue to buy himself some time for his throat to open back up. It’s fear in his chest, yeah, but beneath that is a bubbling, simmering fury, a distant anger for a hypothetical that he understands was Chris’s reality. “Yeah. My brother’s-... um, autistic, so I know… I know about it.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

Ben blinks, caught off-guard. “What?”

Akio flushes, reddening along his cheekbones, and rolls his eyes at himself, slumping back down. “Okay, so, I promise I’m not a stalker, but when you messaged me I looked at your profile to see if you were just a creep. I saw the autism banner, so I looked and you wrote this really sweet thing about your brother-... how old is he?”

Ben almost forgets how to speak again. “He’s-... fifteen. Just turned fifteen. Jamey’s, um, his name is Jamey.”

“Cool. Yeah. So. I’m not a stalker. But, I’m just… listen, Tris and I started training at the gym together when we were like… seven. And I was seventeen when he, when she said… when she said he died.”

Ben’s breath catches. “Shit. She did?”

“Um. Yeah. A month after she took his phone away - we were calling her all the time asking to speak with him and stuff, my mom had kind of threatened to get social services involved again - she called my mom and said he-... um. Sorry if suicide is a thing for you, but…”

“No, I-I’m okay, I just…”

“Yeah. She told us he killed himself. We thought she was lying - oh fuck, she was lying, wasn’t she? - but so... but then you know, she had him cremated, and... I fucking-... I lost my shit, Ben. I didn’t compete, I didn’t train, I just, I just sat in my room for like six months bawling my eyes out and I told my mom it was just like she killed him, taking him away from everything when, you know, he was so sad and scared without them.”

Ben nods, quiet, watching Akio’s face as he speaks.

“My mom offered to take him, have him live with us, but… you know, she said no, and then he-... but he didn’t.” Akio drinks his coffee, absently, and Ben realizes his eyes are red around the edges. “Oh, god, he probably thought nobody cared about him anymore. Oh, shit. He probably thought we stopped giving a fuck. That h-he was al-... alone-”

He’s been crying. He’s maybe going to cry again.

Akio takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “He didn’t know-... shit. He probably just thought, no one’s coming, nobody cares, and… shit. I don’t know what to even think right now, just...” Akio slides his phone across the table. “Look at this. I locked it, when I thought-... but I kept it, anyway. I kept everything, I couldn’t-... I mean it’s just a box of stuff under my bed, but… I couldn’t throw any of it out, because… I don’t know. Somebody needed to, to r-remember him, and she wouldn’t have-... that fucking bitch told us he was dead. And she threw out all his stuff, so I’m... I guess I’m the only one who still has anything, so I just... kept it. Everything. And... this.”

There’s a moment where they both pretend Akio’s voice isn’t trembling.

“What is this?” Ben knows before the question is fully out of his mouth, but he looks anyway. Akio’s phone is still warm from his hand. 

“Tristan’s Instagram account. We, uh, we took pictures of stupid shit a lot back then, and Instagram was, like, super new and all filters all the time, so you just-... but this is his. His mom encouraged him to use it because, you know, sometimes he could show stuff better than he could say it.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Ben tilts his head, scrolling through the images. Most of the photos are just nothing - a cloud, books on a bookshelf, a tree leaf. Ben kind of quirks a smile at all the old Instagram filters right there, like looking in a fucking time capsule. Sometimes there are gymnastics photos, of the gym or of someone training. Sometimes Tristan himself appears in the photo, a blur of constant motion, photos taken by someone else. Photos of dinosaur bones at a museum, seemingly every fucking skeleton or fossil in the place.

“That’s our trip to DC, the team went,” Akio says, and points to a photo of Tristan and Akio, gangly awkward teenagers, standing in front of the Lincoln monument. Akio is smiling, and Tristan is looking up at the sky instead of the camera. “I like to look at this stuff sometimes? I know it’s been… it’s funny, we were talking a few weeks ago about how it’ll be a couple more years when he’s been dead longer than how long I knew him, but he’s not-... he was never dead.” Akio swallows, and his voice catches. When he speaks again, he sounds strained, forcing his voice to stay calm around the emotion that threatens to overtake it. “He was never dead. I keep getting caught up on that, because-... because how did we not know? How did we never… find him?”

Ben pushes the phone back to Akio. “You didn’t know to look,” He says, softly. “How were you supposed to find him if you didn’t know anyone needed to be looking?”

“I guess. My mom feels like shit, she’s been crying since we spoke to you. Well, I have, too. But my mom feels like she… she should have showed up at Joanne’s door and just taken Tristan by force, but, you know, the cops would’ve taken him right back, probably? That’s fucking kidnapping? And I keep telling her not to feel guilty, but she-”

“Yeah,” Ben says, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone. 

I didn’t know he’d come home early. I keep saying I’m sorry but... He wasn’t-... he wasn’t ready for this and he’s so… he’s so fucked up. He won’t even talk to me. Every time Jake leaves the room we’re scared he’ll hurt himself again. He keeps telling me to find someone else, somebody easier, but I don’t want anyone else, god damn it, I want him! 

“She’s taking it really hard,” Akio says, finally, breaking into Ben’s thoughts. “I mean. We both are. But, you know, I keep thinking I can’t do this but then I think… I want to see him again. I want to see this guy in person, not just in those photos and videos you had. I want to see how he’s doing, he looks-... he looks so good.” Akio coughs, like he’s trying to cover up a sob, not quite managing it. “He looks really good.”

“He is, he’s doing… he’s good. Um, he’s having a hard time with remembering some stuff, but overall... he’s good.” Ben picks his own phone back up, pops back to Ronnie’s page. “What did you say the aunt’s name was?”

“Jo, um, Joanne… something. Sorry, I don’t really remember her last name, my mom would-”

“Botham?” Ben looks up, and god, he kind of wants to hug Akio until there aren’t tears in his eyes anymore. But also that’s a stupid thing to think, isn’t it? But he wants to, anyway. 

“Oh, that sounds right.”

“She left a comment on his mom’s-... I’ve been looking for everything I could find. I’m sorry, I know that’s creepy. But Joanne Botham left like a comment about missing-... hold on.” Ben clicks to open up Joanne Botham’s profile. A woman smiling in a profile photo, with dark hair. Something about the shape of her mouth is similar to Chris’s, but that doesn’t mean much, really. He scrolls down. 

Name, stupid quote from a stupider movie, current city is a while away from this one, like a couple states away, but she could’ve moved… There it is.

The answer to his questions, all of them, all at once, right out in the open.

“Joanne Botham,” He says out loud, “works at WRU.”

“What?” Akio looks up at him.

“His aunt. The mom’s sister, she works for WRU. That’s where Chris was-... where they hurt him. Where they make pets.”

Where they erase people. Where they take someone like Jamey and destroy him and how many versions of my brother are there who weren’t rescued by somebody like Chris’s big brother?

“WRU?” Akio’s face twists, an ugly pain written across it. “They’re one of our team’s sponsors. I’ve never thought about how… oh my god. I, I never liked… I mean, none of us are, like, political about it because you can’t be if you want an Olympic career, not really, but we all kind of hated taking the money. My coach thinks it’s good because it gets people off the street, which is super fucked up, but…” His iced coffee thunks down on the table. 

“What?”

“Oh shit. Oh holy fuck. They’ve been sponsoring us since we met with the old governor - he’s the one who hooked our coach up with their marketing team, and… oh my god. I’m gonna be fucking sick. WRU’s been my sponsor since like… a year after Tristan died-... didn’t die, I guess...”

“You didn’t know,” Ben whispers, staring down at Joanne Botham’s profile photo, scrolling through the profile picture photo album. He’s not maybe the smartest person on earth, but he can put two and two together for four. Tristan Higgs’s parents died, he goes to his aunt - who works for a human pet company - and he’s dead, supposedly, four months later. 

Time passes. No sign of supposed dead boy.

Then Chris, identical in every way, appears with no memory of his life and a thousand traumas to heal from, rescued from something that Ben doesn’t know the details of, but he doesn’t have to. 

Life as a pet, a life that made him terrified of bad weather and scared of people who raise their hands too quickly, unable to say no to anything when he gets scared, nervous about big vans with no windows, someone who says stupid fucking bullshit like silence is better than stammering when he’s upset, who sometimes has screaming nightmares that Laken has to wake him from that he refuses to explain to them...

Meanwhile, Aunt Joanne is putting up photos of herself traveling internationally, buying a new house, a new car, stuff she couldn’t afford to do before.

The math does itself.

It’s fucking true crime textbook, and it’s right in front of his eyes.

Akio’s jaw is working, and his eyes are glimmering again. He looks at Ben, and he looks weirdly lost and young, and Ben reaches out without thinking and grabs onto his hand. Akio grips on tight. His hand is warm, almost too warm, but also it’s the perfect amount of warm. “Do you think-... do you think she-”

Ben thinks about Jamey, scared and alone. He thinks about Jamey - and Tristan, the two of them mixing together in his mind - being dragged away, to be lost and overwritten, because no one was there to stop it.

Because someone did it on purpose.

Because no one stopped it.

“I think maybe she was lying to you because she didn’t want you to take Tristan,” Ben says, softly. “I think maybe she wanted to-... make money on him.”

Akio chokes, and leans forward, and Ben holds his hand as tightly as he can, feeling the other man’s fingers tremble in his grip. “I can't-... I can't even begin to deal with that, I just… So h-how did he end up in college? Pets don’t-... go to school, they’re not capable… are they?"

"Um. It depends, apparently?" Ben doesn’t know how much of this is something Chris would ever allow him to share. But Akio’s eyes raise, and catch his again, and Ben smiles, just a little, in an attempt to comfort. “He was rescued,” He says, softly. “I don’t know how, or when. He’d have to tell you that himself. But he’s, um. He’s just Chris now.”

“He’s just Chris, now.” Akio groans resting his head on his hand. “But not Tristan. So he really is dead, his body’s still just-.. walking around.”

“No,” Ben says, and leans in, getting Akio to look at him again. “He’s not gone. Not, like, the core of him, I think. We knew him as soon as we saw him on your video. We knew the smile, and how he moves, all of it. Everybody in the room knew him as soon as we saw him smile at you. He’s still there, he’s still him. I promise.”

“I knew it was him on your stuff as soon as I saw him dancing,” Akio says, brokenly. “H-he always did get obsessed with those fuh-fucking musicals and we used to make up routines to th-them-” His head drops, shoulders shaking, and Ben puts his other hand on Akio’s shoulder, moves around the edge of the little circular table, so he can put an arm around him. 

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Akio says, muffled. “It’s not okay. We should have saved him, w-we didn’t know, we didn’t know she would… he probably th-thought we didn’t care... the social worker said it was fine, we’re not re-relatives, we didn’t know he wasn’t dead, we didn’t know he wasn’t gone, I thought I l-lost him and he probably thinks I didn’t even give a fuck-”

“I’m sure he never thought that,” Ben says, softly, and Akio’s hair brushes a little against the side of his face and he tries not to think too hard about how nice that feels, this is not the time or place, Benjamin, stop thinking about his hair stop it stop it stop it.

“We thought... “

“I know. But… you found him, now. He’s found.”

Akio sniffs back tears, mumbling, “Can I see him?”

Ben hesitates. “He needs-... he might need some time.”

Akio nods without looking up, but he leans a little on Ben. “I’m sorry, I’m being a fucking moron about this, making you comfort me and you don’t even know me, but I just-... missed him, and mourned him, and we go to see is parents wh-where they’re buried every year on the day that his aunt said he-... Is he h-happy? Now?”

Ben closes his eyes. That’s what I’d want to know, isn’t it, if it was Jamey. Is he happy now? Does his new family sign, do they know how to calm him down when it’s too much, do they know, do they care, if I’m not there does someone love him as much as we did?

I’d claw my way out of the fucking grave to make sure someone loves Jamey as much as he deserves.

“He’s happy,” Ben says, softly. “He was adopted by the guy who saved him, I think. There’s a whole lot I don’t know, you know, it’s not really my-... my story to, um, to tell. I just know some of it. He’s, um, he’s with someone, and… he’s… he’s happy.”

“Good. I just-... I want to see him.”

“I know. I’ll ask. But his partner... I’m friends with them, and they, um, he’s n-not... not okay right now, so...”

“I can wait.” Akio looks at him, intense, intent, eyes so dark Ben could fall in. “I’ve waited this long, I can-... I can wait a little longer, I just... I just want to see him, when he can see me.”

The bell over the door chimes again, and the two of them turn and look to see a woman who could not be more obviously Akio’s mother entering, looking at them, her eyebrows furrowed in immediate worry when she sees the tears on Akio’s face. “Aki?”

“It’s him, Mom,” Akio says, and she moves to him as if drawn, and Ben fights himself to pull back and away, to watch mother and son. Tristan had this, and lost it, but Chris has it, too. Life, interrupted at the second act, begun again with new actors around the main character. “It’s definitely-... it’s Tristan. But, she-... I have to tell you what happened to him. He, they-they made him a, um, a pet-”

She hitches in a breath, pulls a chair with a loud scrape from another table, and sits, looking Ben over, expression serious. “Tell me,” She says, softly, but fiercely. 

“It’s, um, it’s a lot…”

“I’ve got time.” Ben is reminded of his own mother, in the simple steel flashing under her perfectly styled hair and carefully done makeup. Her eyes are red around the edges, too. She lays a cool, dry hand over Ben’s, and her dark eyes bore into him with focused intensity. “Tell me what happened to our Tris. I want to know what happened to-... I want to know what I didn’t stop.”

Akio looks sidelong at his mother, putting an arm around her, and he’s shorter than his mom but she seems to sag against him, and he can see how Akio takes after his mom, with the same wide mouth that normally seems always on the verge of a smile, the same dark eyes flashing with anger and guilt. “M-Mom, you couldn’t have known, we couldn’t do anything-”

“I could have gone to that woman’s… house, or wherever she was, and taken Tristan right out the door, and I didn’t,” Aimi says, and her voice doesn’t shake, but her face is bright red and her eyes are overbright and glittering. “I could have called lawyers, or the cops, I could have tried to fight for him and I didn’t. Ronnie deserved-” Her voice catches and her hand is over her mouth. Ben watches her eyes well up, her struggle to calm herself, throat working as she swallows and leans into her son’s embrace. “Ronnie… would have wanted someone to fight for him. I want to know what happened because I did the normal thing and not the right thing, because I didn’t let myself see it. I want to know what exactly it is that I didn’t stop when I had the chance.”

Ben sits back, takes a breath. 

“He, um. His name is… Chris now,” Ben starts, slowly. “Christopher Stanton. He’s, um, he’s a sophomore in college, and… he was a human pet, for a while. We don’t know how long, nobody knows for sure, or who had him. I mean, I guess he knows and I think his brother knows, but h-he, won’t… won’t tell anyone who it was.”

Aimi’s whole body shudders, but her face doesn’t change, and her eyes don’t leave Ben’s. “H-how-”

Akio licks at his lips, and hesitantly says, “Ben thinks maybe that aunt they sent him to sold him. She works for WRU.”

Aimi’s eyes slowly close, and her breathing is slow but trembling. The two young men watch her. Akio’s knee bumps his under the table, and he doesn’t think about that, either, except it’s all he’s going to think about for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Aimi says, after a long pause, and her eyes open again. A kind of perfect calm settles itself across the pain in her expression. 

Ben thinks that this woman is probably fucking terrifying if it’s you she’s angry with and not herself. 

“Mom, if we need to stop, that’s okay-”

“We don’t. Ben-... that’s your name? Ben?”

“Uh, yeah… Benjamin Prentiss, but-... call me Ben.” 

Prentiss, Akio mouths to himself, and Ben hopes, in another weird moment, that Akio likes his last name. 

“Got it.” Aimi leans forward, smacks the table with one hand. Ben flinches. Her jaw sets. She’s definitely terrifying. Like his own mother when they tried to kick Jamey out of school, this is a woman who could stare down the sun itself unblinking and walk away undamaged, if the sun was a threat to her children. “Ben?”

“Yes, um, Mrs. Nakamura?”

“Keep talking. Tell me everything about Tristan-”

“Chris.” He clears his throat. “He’s, um, his name is Chris.”

“... tell me everything about Chris.”

--

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker  , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript

[bumblebee-moreno]

LGBT EDUCATION EVENT

I posted a bit ago to see who might be interested in an event for anyone to ask me any question they want about my LGBT identities, or the LGBT community in general, and there seemed to be quite a bit of interest, so here we are!

Event goes from midnight to midnight March 30 (starts in 5 minutes, lasts for the full 24 hours).

For those of you who don’t know me (you can skip this part if you already know who I am):

My name is Bumblebee, but you can call me Bee. I am white and use he/they pronouns. I am FTM nonbinary, queer, demisexual, and polyamorous. I work part-time at a non-profit targeted towards trans youth. At the non-profit, I moderate our 24/7 chat (I’m not the only moderator, don’t worry, I do sleep), am a facilitator for our middle school support group (When one of our high school facilitators cannot make it, I also step into that group occasionally). I also help create and present workshops (We are currently in the process of creating a presentation for Microsoft). My other job is as a receptionist for a Veterinary Clinic. (For safety reasons, I will not be sharing which nonprofit I work at, or which veterinary clinic I work at. If, for some reason you find out where I work, please keep this information to yourself). I was diagnosed with ADHD in February, and was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder two years ago. I have lived in the USA my whole life, and was raised in a non-religious household. My extended family is mostly Christian, with a few relatives who are Norse Pagan (we are originally from Norway). I am agnostic.

The purpose of this event:

Education. That’s literally it. I’ve noticed a lot of misconceptions about the LGBT community, and want to combat that with a good ol’ fashioned Q&A.

Here are a few rules before we start:

(I do have a TL/DR at the bottom, but if you have the time, I encourage you to read the full thing)

- This is a safe space.

This means a few things: You can ask any question you like and I will not be offended. Nothing is to be taken personally, it will always be assumed that you are trying to learn, unless you’ve clearly proven otherwise. If you’re hurt by something someone (including myself) has said, you’re free and encouraged to say something about it. All identities are welcome. Everything will be tagged with appropriate content warnings (If I don't tag something you need tagged, let me know and I will happily tag it!)

- Who can participate:

Anyone wanting to learn about anything LGBT, including but not limited to:

Cisgender/heterosexual people who want to become better allies, Writers who want to learn how to be more inclusive, People questioning their gender/sexuality, literally anyone prepared to be respectful to anyone else participating

(I do want to note: this event is open to NSFW conversations. If you are uncomfortable with this, please filter the tag “adult conversations”.)

- Any question is okay to ask.

This is a space for everyone to learn, regardless of their prior knowledge. I will never get offended by a question. I will not be offended by the phrasing of a question. If I am not comfortable answering something, I will explain why, but I will not be annoyed. Part of learning is making mistakes, and I want to be courteous to that.

I am super open, so I will answer almost every question, regardless of how personal it is, with a few exceptions (see the “my boundaries” point.

Yes, this means you can ask questions that you’ve been previously told never to ask. I want to clarify though: I will make it clear when a question is inappropriate to ask in normal circumstances. Since I am telling you beforehand that it’s okay to ask personal or private questions, it is acceptable to do so in this context. However, I will always add a note explaining why you shouldn’t ask people this in other circumstances so that it’s still clear which questions I am making exceptions for.

- My boundaries

I’m not going to share identifying information. That includes: My legal name, where I live, where I work, photos of myself, etc.

I’m not going to share my deadname either, though I am willing to have conversations about deadnames themselves.

I’m not going to share what my plans for bottom surgery are. I am fine to talk about bottom surgery itself, I am fine to share where I’m at right now, and have next to no boundaries about top surgery. But I’m not going to share what my plans for whether or not I’m getting bottom surgery are.

I’ve worked as a receptionist and trans advocate for long enough that I take nothing personally. Because of this, I ask that if you need to get upset or aggressive about something related to this event, please come to me directly instead of attacking a participant. I’d rather you send me hate than sending it to someone who is trying to use this safe space as a learning opportunity. This includes if you’re frustrated with a participant. I’m happy to facilitate a healthy conversation about a disagreement, but I will not tolerate anyone attacking others.

- Hate will be blocked.

When you’re talking directly to me, I’m going to assume you’re well-intentioned. HOWEVER. If you’re directly attacking others who are involved in the conversation, you will be blocked. If you have a problem, please come to me and I will work to resolve it. Sending hate to people other than myself is in violation of the safe space.

- My intention is never to speak over anyone

I don’t know everything about every identity. As a white person, I experience white privilege. As someone who passes as male about 80% of the time, I experience male privilege. I am able-bodied. I try my very best to educate myself, but I am still learning (and always will be).

If I speak on an identity that is not my own, I will always add a note to clarify this. I will only be speaking from the stories shared with me by people who have that identity, and from the additional research I have done.

MY WORDS ARE NEVER THE ONLY TRUTH. I cannot say this enough. Don’t take my words over those of someone who uses a specific label. Even if I also use that label. Everyone experiences the world differently. My words are a STARTING POINT. Please be aware that other opinions and experiences exist. I will try my best to have resources paired with every conversation so you can further your learning, but please be aware that I cannot teach you everything.

If I don’t know the answer, I will do research as well as provide you with sources.

- No question will go unanswered

Yes, this includes questions that come across as “disrespectful”. I have said this already, but I will always assume good intentions unless it’s proven that you’re coming from a place of malice. If a question is phrased in a way that comes across as harmful in any way, I will still answer it AND explain why you should ask it differently in the future or not ask it at all going forward.

If I don’t respond within 2 hours, please message me again: I either didn’t receive it or I am still writing my response. I don’t want to miss anyone just because you think I’m ignoring you, I promise I’m not.

The ONLY time I won’t answer a question is if you’ve made it clear that you’re only here to attack the people using this safe space (I will have already asked you to leave).

- If something upsets you, don’t ignore it.

If you’re hurt by something I, or someone else said, please let me know. My intentions are never to hurt or upset anyone.

You can disagree with people, including me, as long as you’re polite about it.

If you need me to talk to someone for you, I’m happy to do so. If you want a private conversation with me, my DMs are open. If you want to stay anonymous but don’t want your questions posted, use this 🌙 emoji (or just say so), and I’ll make a post trying my best to answer your question without sharing the contents of the ask itself.

I don’t expect you to educate me as to why you’re upset by something: that’s not your responsibility, I can educate myself. I do appreciate anyone willing to talk about differing views or why something upset them, but that is not the purpose of the event and you are under no obligation to educate anyone else. I will do my research the moment someone says something bothered them.

- Please don’t weaponise my words.

Please don’t use anything said here as a way to attack people. This event is to educate people. I hope there’s nothing said here that can be manipulated to hurt people, but I didn’t want to leave this unsaid; the point of this isn’t to attack people who are uneducated, it’s to help educate them.

- Most importantly: Please come into this with a desire to learn

This event won’t be helpful if you’re determined to not learn anything. The purpose of this is to ask questions and learn something. I can’t decide for you that you want to learn. I can’t force you to learn. You have to be willing, or this may seem very pointless to you. I’m not trying to change opinions or beliefs, I’m just trying to spread a little education. If you’re unable to take my words and really think about them, this may not be the space for you, but that’s up to you to decide.

Any topic is okay!

This includes (but isn’t limited to):

- Writing LGBT characters (such as how to incorporate same-sex representation without fetishizing gay people, writing for gender-neutral or non-female readers, making content trans-friendly, etc.)

- What to do when someone you care about comes out

- Coming out

- Transition-related questions (HRT, surgery, binding/tucking, deadnames, etc.)

- Defining terms or labels you’re unfamiliar with

- Working out your feelings about something (such as something you saw in media and need to talk to someone about)

- Various laws (questions about laws may take up to 3 hours to answer, as I would have to research your particular area, depending on the question)

- Literally any other question you can think of that has to do with the LGBT community in any way, these are just some ideas off the top of my head to get y’all started.

TL;DR: This space is open to anyone, any topic, any question just please be open-minded and respectful!

(Just like my first post, I’m including tags for the Pedro fandom because I’ve seen a lot of issues within that community, but this is open to anyone that wants to participate, regardless of what interests you have.)

@phoenixhalliwell

[bigskydreaming]

I’m writing this scene between Lilith and Bruce right now, and I just cut a whole segue their conversation took because it derailed it too far from where I meant to take it and was more of a meta thought anyway.

So I’m just gonna verbalize it here so as not to waste that thought. You’re welcome!

But purely on a pet peeve note (and this seriously isn’t a response to something I read lately, I feel like people always think that’s what prompts everything I say but honestly, sometimes shit just pops into my head and this is one such instance lol) - anyway like, lemme just express real quick how much I LOATHE the term ‘mindrape.’

Like. Please stop forever with that, sci-fi and fantasy themed media and entertainment. That’s not a thing. Stop trying to make it a thing.

To be perfectly clear, like, the idea of a telepath or someone via some technology or magic being able to go into your head and view or pluck out your most private, carefully guarded thoughts? Abso-fucking-lutely something that can and should be viewed as a violation, in universe.

Its just....not rape. Its literally not.

I honestly do think that the rise of this particular term was because people thought about it and just HOW intimate and personal one’s thoughts can be, especially someone who is used to being closed-off and emotionally guarded, and when trying to come up with a way to describe this that captured the INTENSITY of the violation people were picturing when they imagined this.....that’s how people ended up linking it to rape as a way of conveying just how awful a violation it was?

But like.....rape is a very specific act, is the thing. It has specific context, it has specific catalysts, framing, fallout. Rape has its own name rather than just being described as a violating assault or an act of violation, because rape is a SPECIFIC act that carries its own connotations in our society. And those connotations aren’t something that entertainment should feel comfortable borrowing just to use as like, a benchmark for how awful a completely fictitious concept might be.

Because that dilutes the very purpose of giving rape its own name in the first place. The more its likened to an abstract sense of violation that feasibly encompasses pretty much anything that falls under the umbrella of personal violation.....the less it stands out as notably different from other forms of violation and calls to mind the things that MAKE it different, and thus warrant it being treated differently or approached in a specific way.

And here’s the thing about WHY rape has its own terminology:

First....there’s the fact that whether we like it or not, the simple reality is our society is obsessed with sex. We live in a very heavily sexualized world, where its often difficult to completely separate ANYTHING from sexual connotations. Its easier to make just about anything ABOUT sex than it is to make anything that’s remotely sex-adjacent about something OTHER than sex.

Now combine that with the fact that while rape is about power, and taking it from a victim or exerting it over a victim.....rape is INTRINSICALLY connected to sex. True, rape is not sex, its an act of aggression, not a sexual act. There is no way to engage in rape without simultaneously engaging in violence. There is no way for someone to consent to what is inherently by definition a stripping away of consent.

Rape is not sex. But sex is the VEHICLE by which a rapist takes or exerts power SPECIFICALLY. While at the exact same time, a HUGE part of why survivors struggle so much with getting the support they need in recovery.....is because due to how SEXUALIZED rape is in our society, in our media and just our very conversations of it, most rape survivors face the stumbling block of their assault and violation being viewed as more about sex than it was power.

Essentially, even though on the surface even most people ‘know’ that rape isn’t sex and rape is about power.....lots of people fall into the trap of looking at rape and thinking of it as sex gone wrong, or sex someone regrets, or tons of other thoughts that have more to do with sex than rape. Because from a pretty early age, anyone who doesn’t ALREADY have their own view and awareness of rape....has their view of rape then informed pretty much just by how its depicted and presented in media and entertainment. Where its of course heavily filtered through a very sexual lens.

So even while consciously KNOWING that rape isn’t an act of sex but one strictly of violence, entitlement and power....lots of people still have to contend with and push back against a foundation of it being more closely associated with sex in their minds, as the easily visualized IMAGE of what rape LOOKS like on the surface.....than other things it has more in common with once you look at anything OTHER than the visual of it, such as focusing on the motivating factors for rape and WHY rapists do what they do.

Theft, coercion, other crimes and concepts that more accurately reflect a rapist’s desire to TAKE what they were told was not theirs to take or to just degrade or humiliate someone in the most intimate way possible, or to turn a person’s very body into a weapon against them or to injure someone in a way that is meant to be more lasting or permanent in its effect on a person than just inflicting a physical wound.....any and all of these things have far more to do with why rapists rape than a simple desire for sex.

Rapists don’t rape because its the only way for them to have sex, even. Because even when rape is very much attraction based....its STILL not about just wanting to have sex with the person of their focus....its about wanting to have sex with them even despite being told no, or without giving them even the chance to say no. Even when a rapist ONLY targets a person because of their specific physical attraction to that person and their desires/fantasy to have sex with that specific person and not someone else.....the crime itself is still ABOUT stripping that person of their personhood in order to simply act upon them as the OBJECT of their focus/attraction...rather than any kind of a partner in a mutually beneficial or engaged-in act.

But despite all of that.....ask any non-survivor what springs to mind first when they hear the word ‘rape’....and chances are the resulting thoughts are more instinctively geared towards sex than power.

All of this is directly linked to our tendency as a society to view and treat and even talk about rape in terms of it most commonly being sex that got out of control. Despite the fact that no act of rape was EVER going to be an act of sexual partnership......because the very thing that turns something FROM sex INTO rape....is the MOMENT a rapist determines or feels that sex with a person is off the table or simply not what they’re interested in.....because they either don’t have or don’t WANT their victim’s partnership in what happens. They simply want to take. To steal. To use. To abuse.

Without exception.

Honestly, this got a lot more indepth than I was intending to go when I was just riffing off of a thought that popped into my mind about how I just really don’t like the term mindrape.....but a big part of the problem I have with the term is how indepth you basically HAVE to go in order to fully convey just why the term is so.....not a valid comparison to make to rape, with anyone who doesn’t already have an instinctive or reactive understanding of rape that’s more based on what rape TAKES than with how its usually depicted or talked about, where its in terms of what rape LOOKS like.

Because alllll of the above connotations and how important and central they are to any actual examination or discussion of rape....they simply do not carry over into a concept like someone reading your mind without permission.

Again, its not that such a thing wouldn’t be extremely violating IMO. It absolutely would be.

My point is simply that rape is always a violation, but violations are not always rape. SEXUAL violations are rape. But there’s a ton of ways a person or even something like a law or concept or even a freaking BUSINESS contract can be violated. And these aren’t interchangeable.

Are a person’s most intimate thoughts something incredibly personal, something no one should be allowed to take without permission? Sure. Absolutely. But imagine how else such a scenario could take place even in our real world, without needing a concept such as telepathy to make it feasible. Think about anything from someone reading a person’s carefully guarded or hidden diary or journal where they record thoughts they NEVER expect or want someone else to be privy to. Think about someone being tortured to give up information they’d be willing to give up their life to keep secret. Think about a burglar breaking into someone’s home when they’re not there and going through all their most personal belongings, leaving evidence that some stranger has been there and seen and touched all of that and you now don’t feel like you have the ability to keep anything safe and hidden from others, even in the safety and security of your own home.

Are all of these things different kinds of violation, most of which carry a great degree of intensity and personal betrayal or harm?

Absolutely.

But are any of them interchangeable with RAPE?

Or are they a bit easier to separate from from that concept once laid out to this degree, to see as completely separate and distinct things that may have some overlap but not necessarily even in the same ways or places they’re usually viewed as overlapping with rape as a concept?

Since I began this as a fandom related concept, lemme bring that back for a final thought.

Instead of likening other things TO rape, imagine if we did the same thing in reverse, and likened rape TO other things instead.

In terms of even just Batcharacters.....think about how often its been raised as an actual STORY point, that many Bat characters have shown a willingness or even tendency to cross all kinds of ethical boundaries and illegally surveil someone or intrude upon boundaries in the name of ‘the greater good’ or because they feel the ends justify the means.

Now imagine if all of those instances, no matter how large or small a violation....from a simple breaking and entering job to get inside a Rogue’s secret hideout in order to steal the location of their next crime....to putting bugs and cameras into someone’s home without their knowledge or permission and even just being able to spy on them naked or when revealing extremely personal information while thinking there’s no one else around to hear it, regardless of whether or not that’s what the character intends those to be used for or never actually uses them in that way.....

Imagine if all of THOSE violations were considered, viewed and talked about as not just breaches of privacy but as RAPE, specifically....with any relevant Bat-characters thus by extension specifically being rapists for having engaged in such violations.

And then, let’s flip the script back AGAIN, and now look at those instances where characters intrude, surveil, cross boundaries or invade privacies in the name of trying to save people or prevent tragedies or in the name of that always handy alleged ‘greater good.’

Try using that ‘in the name of [...]’ clause in regards to when and why a rapist rapes, and see how......not good that is. Has any of the above EVER been an ACTUAL justification for why someone rapes someone else? COULD it ever be? I know there’s the fuck or die trope and there’s more than a few variations of it in which one hero is forced to essentially rape another one or someone innocent or else the villain will kill them both, or kill the other person, or something like that....but even then, the actual RAPE is still on the villain or person exerting coercion, so no, not even then is rape being done in the name of saving/protecting someone or some supposed greater good. Its still the villain that’s doing the actual violating, that’s making the CHOICE to set up this scenario and limit the hero’s options to either ‘participating’ or signing someone’s death warrant....and just like sex is the vehicle by which rape occurs, the ‘raping’ hero is in this kind of scenario STILL just being used as a proxy by the actual person with the actual intent and desire to violate and assault the other person, and in being used in such a way, and in an inherently sexualized way themself.....it simply makes the ‘raping’ hero still not an actual rapist, but an additional rape victim of the ultimate villain as well.

See how complicated and messy this all gets, and how quickly?

And especially given that it doesn’t ever NEED to get there, in either direction, since there’s plenty of ways to describe varying types and degrees of violation with specificity, without resorting to ‘rounding up’ to refer to them as rape as a shorthand for expressing it was a particularly intimate or sensitive violation - and without losing sight of the fact that violations that result even in the THEFT of sensitive, personal information or secrets.....still only result in things like pieces of INFORMATION being what’s stolen, rather than someone’s entire bodily autonomy and personal agency.

Anyway, in conclusion the point is really just that we come up with the terms we do for specific reasons, and while language and contexts do evolve, grow, and even wholly change over time for a variety of reasons, it is important to take note of when that happens so we can determine if that change SHOULD be happening or if key contexts or connotations are being left out or overlooked in the process or wake of language changing.

And while I kept my point here limited to the example of rape and ‘mind rape,’ it applies to a ton of other stuff and topics as well. This just happened to be the one on my mind at the moment, but this kind of awareness can and should definitely be applied to a lot of other discussions involving sensitive or emotionally charged topics as well.

We come up with specific words and terms with INTENT. The creation of a specific term or phrase almost always involves having seen a NEED for such specificity in the first place, in order to denote key differences between something and other things it might be similar to but not fully described or encompassed by previously existing words or phrases.

Before treating concepts as interchangeable, we should always take care to make sure that they are, in fact, actually interchangeable.

[slversoul]

* taylor russell, demi woman + she/her | you know darlene wyman, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, six years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hellmouth by choir boy like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole face always covered in half a shadow, two day old makeup because she didn’t care enough to take it off, smile that feels like she just signed off on your death thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is january 26th, so they’re an aquarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( cornelia, 21 )

tw: emotional abuse + general bullying, robbery

growing up, darlene was offered all of the freedom in the world, running around her family’s three acre plot of land. the yard was her escape from the suffocating air within the house. with three spare bedrooms, there should have been a place for her to hide, but her mother or her father or her brother always found her. her mother’s shrill criticisms. her father’s disapproving glare. her brother’s cruel smile. she was an ant under a magnifying glass as they watched with glee as she burst into flames.

her biggest escape in life was pottery. she’d sit far in the backyard, beneath her favorite tree, making pinch pots and misshapen animal figurines. 

went bowling one time and met this guy named nick. he was everything her parents hated, and that was part of his charm. one look in his eyes as their hands met when they both reached for the ball (a ploy he later admitted he used to talk to her) and she was hooked.

study groups were code for dates. it was rather easy to keep nick far away from her parents, always thinking of vague excuses why he could never come to her house. he was perfect. he was tough and intimidating, but he was sweet and considerate. darlene would have done anything for him.

things were getting worse at home. she was adamant about doing pottery and sculptures, but her parents refused to indulge her. they wouldn’t let her even look at the credit card. they wouldn’t drive her to the pottery place. instead, her father placed a pair of cleats in her hand and her mother drove her to practice. darlene was good at soccer; she had potential to be great. so her parents pushed her. practice every day after school. private lessons on the weekends. they wouldn’t settle for nothing less than a champion. 

her brother had found her clay sculptures she’d kept hidden away -- a hobby she could never let up. she had to watch with tears welling in her eyes as he stomped on them, smashing them into pieces. as he kicked them around he laughed and told her to watch and learn if she ever wanted to be good at soccer.

her coach had pulled her father aside to tell him that darlene was hardly trying, and that, she would never be great at soccer if she didn’t put in more effort. on the car ride home, her father told her that he wished she would have been a boy, that she would be something he could be proud of.

one day, she broke down and told nick everything. he comforted her and told her he loved her. they made plans to run away together. she gave him a house key to go get her stuff while she was out to dinner with her family. she would sneak out and meet him after.  when they returned home, the house had been robbed. mrs. wyman’s precious jewelry missing. mr. wyman’s hunting rifles gone. of course, darlene kept her mouth shut, not letting them know about nick. she tried desperately to contact him, but he blocked her, and she never heard from him again. she realized that there were no heroes; only villains masquerading as saviors.

she still tried to run away — hid in the neighbors tree house until her brother found her quickly and dragged her kicking and screaming back to the house. surprisingly, her mother wasn’t mad. instead, she pulled her only daughter close and let her tears soak her blouse. later that night, she darlene’s hair and told her that her heart would heal.

darlene let herself believe it was her mother’s love that motivated those actions. she turned a blind eye to her need for obedience because darlene fell into line after that. she stopped making her mud sculptures and turned all of her attention to soccer. 

she improved in every area of her life except social. aggression found an outlet in soccer. her school work served as an escape from other aspects of her life. but she didn’t trust anybody. she yelled at anyone who walked too close to her in the hallway. knocked the books out of the hands at classmates she thought looked at her the wrong way. she talked back to her teachers.

detention after detention stacked up and grades started to slip as she sunk further into her attitude. the tipping point happened after practice one day. her coach told her she was good, but not good enough. nobody wanted to recruit her for college. it was a dead-end, time wasting doing something she didn’t even care about. for weeks, she managed to avoid her parents until they forced her to sit down at dinner. told her she was a disappointment, bigger than they could have ever imagined. she was cut off, expected to leave after graduation. 

she hitched a ride with a friend who was moving to irving to attend the local community college.

currently runs a depop shop and has a garden, but those are her side hustles. her main gig is a hairdresser. she’s on thin ice because she’s messed up haircuts on purpose a couple of times when she gets annoyed with the customers.

PERSONALITY 

she’s so mean but it’s just to cover up her sadness. had big dreams growing up but those have all been crushed, so she doesn’t like getting attached. she will not say a single thing about her past and is not forthcoming at all. mean to keep people away. doesn’t want to bond with people. but she does deep down....darlene just isn’t aware. she’s a scared little girl and that dictates everything she does <3 would love to do pottery again but doesn’t want to be That Girl anymore.....doesn’t want to get pushed around anymore......in here mind there is a correlation between being dreamy and being weak. think kim kelly from freaks and geeks....that’s all for now....

WANTED CONNECTIONS

enemies! a classic but she loves having a list of enemies....the more people who don’t like her, the better she THINKS she feels....

something based on the first two quotes on this im begging.....someone she longs for from a far....she wants them but doesn’t know how to want anything.......hot n cold.....someone is going to end up so so so hurt.....

this! romantic or platonic but someone who puts her in her place....pities her which she hates but it’s because they can see into her soul...

someone who wants to help her despite everything and her resistance to help

like one or two friends.....people she can sit and stew with and there’s not an expectation that they are friends....it looks like they aren’t friends and yet it works somehow <3

[random-mha-thoughts]

Burden (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Anon asked: “yo so for some Todoroki angst, what about his gf breaking up with him because Endeavor had told her to because he didn't want her to get in the way of Todoroki's "purpose" (she does tell him this) which leads to a very depressed Todoroki left wondering what he did wrong and desperately trying to get her back? Could end happily if you want, up to u"

Genre: Angst to fluff

(Submission 2/3 of Todoroki angst from my post a few days ago) 

Word count: 1,993

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Legit I’m so tired I almost fell asleep in the middle of writing this, but I wanted to get this out for you guys before the night ended, so I banged it out.  It’s not as intense as Name and it ends happily so I hope you guys enjoy and are left with some fuzzy feelings at the end :3

I wrote this kind of gender neutral soooo yeah, read it as you want to!  Thanks again for the submission anon! I appreciate you!

It hurts to break Todo’s heart.  He’s baby, I just love him so much I wanna protect him :(

Also question, do you guys care if there’s a pic at the top of every post or nah?

From the moment Aizawa told me Endeavor wanted to speak to me, I knew something would go utterly wrong.

"I want you out of my son's life," he ordered bluntly.  "I have big plans for Shouto to become the top hero one day, he doesn't need to be sidetracked by high school romance."

Todoroki had warned me how pushy and controlling his father was, which is why he always kept our relationship somewhat secretive.  I don't even know where or when his father saw us together.  It's shocking, but I can't say I'm totally surprised he's saying it.

"Sir, with all due respect," I'm trying to be polite, but I want to give the man a piece of my mind after all the things Shouto's told me, "Shouto wouldn't appreciate you getting involved in his personal life.  This was a decision he made without you, and I'd say he's happy with it."

Endeavor rolls his eyes and rests his hands on his desk.  "Shouto doesn't know what's good for him.  Besides, I'm sure he only agreed to be in a relationship with you just to rebel against me.  He holds no true feelings for you."

I gape at his statement.  Is he for real?  "I don't know how you could possibly know that, I don't think Todoroki said anything to you about me or his feelings."

The man's turquoise eyes scan me uncomfortably.  "I remember your performance from the Sports Festival.  You barely even made it past the obstacle course round, and the only reason you advanced to the finals was because you happened to be on a winning team.  You even lost your first battle.  Your quirk and your abilities are nothing special."

I clench my fists, rage coursing through my blood.  "Excuse me-"

"Which is why a weakling like you wouldn't be a good match for my son," he continues.  "Think about it.  My son's power is immense, he can stand on his own in a match.  You probably need support from someone else.  He'll eventually grow tired of you and he'll toss you aside for someone on the same level as him."  Endeavor glances at the clock on his desk.  "Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting planned."  He rises from his chair and strolls out of the room.  "Give it some thought and I'm sure you'll make the right choice."

I'm left in the middle of his office, shaking and seeing red with rage.  I want to punch and scream in his face.  I don't care if he's some big-shot pro hero, he can takes his words and shove it where the Sun doesn't shine.  How can he talk that way to people so easily? Exasperated (and afraid I'll break something if I stay), I huff out of the room and back to the dorms, mumbling and cursing to myself about all the things I'd like to do to Todoroki's father.

And I hate to admit it, but what he said really gets to me.  My quirk isn't a strong, elemental type like Shouto's.  All I can do is heat things I touch until they melt or burn, including human skin.  I couldn't do much in the Sports Festival except block my opponents by melting the ground beneath them or throwing flaming objects at them.  I've always had a love-hate relationship with my quirk because it was always too destructive or too weak to be a hero's quirk, but I've always tried to use it in offensive ways to help me fight.

As I get off the train, I sigh, Endeavor's words swimming in my mind.  I hate that he might actually be right.  I'm pretty useless.  I can't help Shouto improve himself when he has to worry about constantly building me up and supporting me.  I'd just be a burden to him.

It breaks my heart to know that I'm actually considering going through with this.  Damn it, I can't believe I let Endeavor win.

I trudge into the common room of the dorms.  Everyone's watching TV, eating, or reading.  Shouto turns around from his position near the wall, just observing everyone.  As soon as he sees me, his blank face softens into a smile, making my heart sink.  I hate to break his heart, but it's for the best.

"Hey, where were you?  I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't come back before curfew."  His eyes melt right into mine, displaying nothing but warmth.

My stomach churns.  Aizawa had told me privately, so Todoroki doesn't know I just faced his father.  "My parents needed me to go grocery shopping for them.  They're both out of town, so they didn't get to go before they left."  I bite my lip, dreading what's going to come next.  "Can we...talk outside?"

The fondness stiffens into anxiety and I see his Adam's apple move as he gulps.  "Okay."

Once we're outside, it gets more difficult for me to look him in the eyes because I'm afraid I'll cry, and I have to be the strong one.  I take a deep breath to calm myself, feeling his eyes on me.  Just rip it off like a band-aid.  "I think we should break up."

At first I thought I'd said it too quickly for him to understand, but the way his face falls confirms he heard just fine.  I feel like I've just kicked the most precious puppy in the world, I want to cry in his arms and confess everything that just happened, but I can't.

The confusion and despair mixes in his eyes as he stares at he ground, his eyes flickering back and forth.  "Did I do something wrong?  Please tell me, I'll fix it."

My throat threatens to close up, but I swallow hard.  "It's nothing you did, Shouto.  I just think we might've rushed into this.  We let our feelings get in the way of why we're really here, and it wasn't to get into relationships."  I muster up the courage to stare at him with a hardened look.  "We should focus on our real priorities from now on.  I'm sorry."

Shouto's crestfallen expression kept falling with every word I said and I can't take anymore.  I calmly walk back inside the dorm and head upstairs to my room, about to explode into tears and I can't let anyone see it.  As soon as I shut the door, I break into sobs and collapse onto my knees.  The memory of his face right before I left remains behind my eyelids.  I hate possibly seeing him cry or get angry.  For both of our sake, I'm praying that he gets over it quickly.  We only dated for a few months, he should get over it fairly quickly.

.

He didn't get over it.

Even after almost a week, Shouto never failed to get through a day without boring holes in the back of my head.  He seemed so lost without me even when he's surrounded by his friends.  It got to the point where I decided to start having my lunch in an empty classroom because I would feel like breaking down whenever I meet his heartbroken stare.

There were even a few times where he would come up to me in the halls while I stopped to talk to someone and tried to talk to me, but I had to politely smile and tell him I was busy with the person I was with and then walk away.

It hurts.  It just hurts so much.

But if it means we can both benefit and get stronger without me burdening him, I have to stand my ground.  I started throwing myself into intense training alone.  I'm trying to focus my quirk on emitting heat to things so I don't have to touch them, but I'm not getting anywhere fast with it.

After a few days of frustrating myself, Shouto suddenly bangs the door open in the middle of my training.  At first I want to politely ask him to leave, but the anger burning in his eyes stops me as he marches to stand right in front of me.  I feel terribly small in his presence, I don't even want to meet his eyes.  "What-"

"Why didn't you tell me my father asked to see you?" he asks, his voice dangerously low, like a time bomb waiting to explode.

I feel my face lose all color.  How did he find out?  "Who-?"

"Uraraka told me," he answers before I can finish, fists clenching at his sides.  "I had a hunch there was something wrong.  What did he tell you?"

I'm torn between answering and keeping my mouth shut, incapable of even looking him in the eyes for fear I might fall apart right here.  "N-Nothing," I manage feebly.

"Tell me," the edge in his voice growing.  The room gets hotter and colder at the same time as Shouto's quirk starts releasing out of his control.

I scrunch my eyes shut to hold back tears.  "H-He told me you didn't actually have feelings for me and that you're only dating me to rebel against him," I sniff, "And then he said I'm too weak for you, that I'm nothing special, and you'll eventually get tired of me because I can't hold my own in a battle and you'd rather be with someone with the same ability level as you."  The hot tears finally escape my eyes and run down my face.  "And he's right, isn't he?  I'm just a burden to you.  I'm probably better suited to be someone's sidekick than a hero.  I'm nowhere near the same level as you."

I reach up to wipe my face of my stupid tears when Shouto steps closer and gently wipes them away with his thumbs.  His hands remain there, holding my head between his hands, the familiar gesture making me choke out a sob.  Anger had melted away into understanding and sympathy.  "I don't care about the strength of your quirk or how useful you are in battle.  I care about you, as the person I love.  And I'd never get tired of you."

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and I collapse into his chest, my arms wrapping around him and gripping the back of his shirt as I let everything out.  His comforting fresh scent calms me down as he pats my back.

"I'm sorry, Shouto," my sobs muffle into his clothes, "I let him get to me.  I was too weak to tell you anything and I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.  I'm sorry I put you through this."

The boy buries another kiss in my hair.  "I knew you wouldn't think of this on your own, love.  You know how much I care about you."

"I know," I sniff again separating from him and wiping my face, "I was stupid.  I made both of us suffer for no reason."

Shouto cradles my cheek with his left hand and I lean into his warm, holding onto his wrist.  "Can we get back together then?  I miss you a lot."  Those mismatched eyes hold more love in them than I can even fathom.  They choke me up so much I can only nod.

His icy hand pulls me in by my waist before sealing our lips together in a sweet reunion kiss.  We move against each other, familiar feelings burst out of us to express exactly how much we missed out on each other in the past couple weeks.

Shouto pulls away just far enough to keep our foreheads still pressed together.  "If my father ever tries to meet you again, you're taking me with you.  I'm not letting him disrespect you like that.  He needs to know his place."

"Okay. don't get so worked up," I kiss his nose, to which he blushes and I giggle.  "Now can you help me with my training now?  I need to catch up with you."

[skateboardtotheheart]

Alex vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda

hello, everyone! i’ve been working on a fic titled “Alex vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda” for quite a long while, and i’m finally biting the bullet and posting the first chapter. this fic is based on the novel "Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda" by Becky Albertalli! it will be very closely based on the book, as well as some things from the movie "Love, Simon", and you may find dialogue or details that you recognize from either version of Becky Albertalli's story! i have no rights to the novel/movie or the JATP characters depicted in this fic. that said, there are a lot of details that are changed, and you'll be able to spot those really easily. this fic will be crossposted to my AO3 and can be located HERE. 

like i said, this fic has been a long time coming, and there is tons and tons i have planned for it. here on tumblr, i will be posting things like extra details, bonus content, and maybe some sneak previews! for now, let’s get into the fic!

SUMMARY: Alex Mercer is just like everyone else- only he has one huge ass secret. Nobody knows that he's gay, not even his closest friends and bandmates Luke, Reggie, and Julie. The only time he's ever mentioned it to someone, it was in an anonymous email chain with Ghost, another Los Feliz High School student. Alex can't risk coming out to anyone, but when his emails fall into the wrong hands, his secret is at risk of being thrust into a spotlight. Suddenly an already stressful junior year is all that more complicated as he juggles everyday drama, the school's annual band competition, blackmail, and trying not to lose his shot with the best guy he's ever met.

READ CHAPTER ONE BELOW THE CUT

Everything about this conversation is so out of the box of normal that I barely even register what's happening. Of course I'm the type of person who can't tell when this- something so crazy and awful and stressful and honest to God what the hell is happening- is going on. In my defense, Caleb Covington has never spoken to me before. I had no reason to assume that the first time he did, it would be to blackmail me.

We're taking a water break in the bleachers when Caleb saunters over. No greeting, no introduction- just words to send my entire junior year of high school spinning on its head.

"I read your email."

I swallow my water. "What?"

Caleb raises an eyebrow at me, and there's no other way to describe it but menacing. It's funny looking back on it all; I'd always heard Caleb was a really nice guy.

"I was in the library. And I read your email."

"You read my email?"

"Not on purpose. You really should have logged out of Gmail."

There's nothing I can do but stare at him, dumbfounded. What in the name of David Bowie is happening right now?

Caleb, thankfully, stops towering over me and takes a seat in the bleachers, a foot or so away. To anyone else, it might look like we're friends. To me, it feels like I can't breathe.

"Why the fake name?" Caleb asks, and my entire soul screams a wish that he would stop being so casual about this. 

I want to tell him that the point of a fake name is to keep people like Caleb Covington from knowing my secret. Way to freaking go, Alex. He must have seen me sitting at the computer like the monumental dumbass I am.

"Would it interest you to know my cousin is gay?"

"Um. No, Caleb. It really wouldn't."

He still has his eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his face. If I focus hard enough- kind of impossible right now- I can picture Luke punching it right off his face.

"What do you want Caleb?"

This is the longest five minute water break of my life. 

"Look, Mercer, I don't have a problem with it. It's not a big deal."

Yes, it really is. It's a huge monster of a deal. This is the biggest disaster since Luke slammed his fingers in a door and couldn't play his guitar. 

"But. . ." Caleb drags out, and I can feel my leg bouncing quicker by the second. "It's pretty clear to me that you'd rather keep it all hush, hush."

I mean. Yeah. Kind of. The coming out thing doesn't scare me that much. Except it does. Because if people know then my parents will know and if my parents know then my whole family will know and if my whole family knows then I've become like a living, gay, everyone-finds-out version of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, and I'd rather die than have that happen. So maybe the coming out thing does scare me. But the biggest problem if people found out? 

Ghost.

I have absolutely no idea what it would mean for Ghost if Caleb was going to tell anyone. The thing about Ghost is he's a pretty private person. I bet he wouldn't forget to log out of his email so people like Caleb Covington wouldn't see it. I bet there's a good chance he'll never forgive me if he finds out about this. So really, I have absolutely no freaking clue what would happen to Ghost- to us.

And I'm still sitting in these stupid gym bleachers, the pink hydroflask Reggie bought me limp in my hand, desperately wishing Carrie would call an end to this godforsaken water break. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with Caleb right now. Why couldn't anyone else have logged into Gmail after me? Why was I so impatient to see if Ghost had emailed me back that I used the freaking school computers? Why did this stupid school insist on blocking the wireless so I had had no choice but to use the school computers? But it had been one of those days where I couldn't even wait to get out of dance practice to check my phone in my car.

I'd emailed Ghost this morning, and it had been a pretty big email. I was desperate to know if he'd emailed back.

I must have been just staring at Caleb for a while because he cocked his head at me and said, "Don't worry, Mercer. I'm not going to show anyone."

I take a relieved breath. Then my hydroflask finally slips from my fingers as I freeze, and the sound echoes through the gym. I don't even look at the rest of the dancers when their laughs break out.

"Show anyone?" I ask. 

Caleb leans in a little bit, smirk wider on his face. I feel sick.

"Did you- oh my god, did you screenshot my emails?"

"Yes, see, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"You took a fucking screenshot?" I hiss out, thankful I'd put my stuff farther away from the rest of the dance team today.

Caleb has the audacity to roll his eyes. "I've heard you're in a band with-"

"What the fuck does that have to do with- Let's go back to how you screenshot my email."

"Or you can shut up and listen to what I have to say." 

Something about the way Caleb's gaze catches you, it's hard to do anything but what he says. Fuck.

"I believe we may be in a position to help each other out."

Jesus Christ, what 18 year old talks like this?

"Why the hell would I do anything for you?"

It's a stupid question, I realize as he stares at me calmly. Calmly. Like this isn't the end of my life. Whatever he wants right now, it'll be in exchange. I do this, and he doesn't broadcast my private emails with Ghost to the entire student body.

All this time and I really thought Caleb was supposed to be this nice guy. Fuck me.

"You're going to make me do whatever you want?"

Caleb tsk'd like the condescending bastard he clearly is. "Well, now. I'm not making you do anything."

"But if I don't help you, you'll what? Post my emails on the fucking tumblr?"

LosFelizSecrets. The bane of every Los Feliz student's existence. Ground zero for more gossip than anyone in their right mind knows what to do with. A school of almost 3,000 kids but if it's on the tumblr, most people know within a day. A complete and utter hellscape disguised as a blog.

When Caleb stays quiet, I speak again. "What do you want from me, Caleb?"

He sneers. 

"Music of the Night."

Once again, I'm stuck staring at him. Music of the Night? That's what this is about?

"Your band is signed up, as is mine. The HGC lost to Dirty Candy last year, and I will not lose again this year."

Music of the Night is this competition Los Feliz holds every year as part of the music program. At the end of the year, there's this huge concert held at the Orpheum theatre in Hollywood. At the beginning of the school year, anyone can sign up. Then each band has 4 months to perform at school events, outside gigs and parties, and whenever they have an opportunity, really. During winter break, the student body votes on who the headliner of the concert will be. Last year, the headliner was Dirty Candy. Because they won last year, they're out of the running this year and are in charge of organization and things for the concert. This year, I was hoping the headliner would be Julie and the Phantoms. My band. Caleb and his band HGC has entered the competition every year, and he's never won. He's a senior, and I know this will be his last chance. I also know who his biggest competition is. 

Us.

"So. . . what? You want me to sabotage my own band?"

I feel breathless and dizzy as I ask. Caleb just shrugs casually.

"Whatever you need to do. So long as it's my band that gets the votes. Like I said, I think we can help each other out. Think about it."

Caleb winks- he actually winks- and walks away. I stare dumbly after him. No way. No, I'm not doing this. I can live with being outed. Right? 

But my thoughts travel to Ghost. Because he's a part of this, too. He goes to Los Feliz, and he's my age, and he uses a fake name, and he's not out. 

Ghost isn't out, and Caleb has my emails.

Fuck.

----------

Any hope I have of forgetting about that stupid conversation clearly isn’t worth it. I have an hour before dinner, and right now I’m basically willing to do anything to avoid my family. Trying to talk to my parents is exhausting. You can’t just get away with telling them your day was good or bad. No, you have to ring out every excruciating little detail. Everything that happens in my or my siblings’ life, they want to know about it. In all honesty, I used to love telling them all that stuff. Now I can’t get away from them fast enough. Especially today. I’m barely in the house long enough to put my backpack in my room before I’m slipping out the back door and leaving again. 

I try to drown out my thoughts with Axl Rose screaming into my earbuds. But my mind is stuck on Ghost, emails, and Caleb freaking Covington. Caleb wants to win Music of the Night. I can’t exactly blame him for that. Everyone wants to win it. 

Except he’s blackmailing me. And by extension, he’s blackmailing Ghost. And that makes me want to hyperventilate a little bit. Maybe go scream somewhere. 

But Axl Rose is helping. The familiar route of walking to Luke’s is helping. We don’t get much of a fall in LA, but the air feels a little crisper in mid October, and I can already see the houses that are getting ready for Halloween. 

When I reach Luke’s house, I don’t even bother going through the front door. I just cut through his backyard and head through the backdoor right next to Luke’s bedroom. I hear them before I see them. Reggie’s laugh fills the air, paired with a frustrated groan from Luke. They’re sitting side by side on Luke’s bed, facing the small tv with some video game I’ve never seen on the screen. They look like they haven’t moved in hours. Luke pauses the game as soon as he sees me, waving, and I can’t help but smile a little bit. The guy won’t put down his guitar for you, but he’ll pause a video game or movie without a second thought. 

“Great, you’re here! Tell Luke he’s shit at this game and he should let me play Mario Kart.”

I roll my eyes, “Dance was great, Reg. Thanks for asking.”

Reggie sticks out his tongue, and I crack a smile. This is the most comfortable I’ve felt all afternoon. I throw myself into the beat up bean bag chair Luke keeps in his room.

“Luke, you’re shit at this game and Reggie wants to play Mario Kart.”

Luke gapes at me, a betrayed gleam in his eyes, but I just shrug. Luke grumbles a bit as he gets up to switch out the game, and Reggie whoops in victory. I let out a soft sigh. I think I needed this. The chaos of Reggie and Luke playing whatever game, the strange mix of leather, Axe, and his mom’s Hawaiian Breeze cleaner that makes Luke’s room smell awful and entirely wonderful at the same time, and the familiarity of Luke and Reggie. Everything just fits right when I’m with them. 

As Luke sets up the game, Reggie looks at me excitedly. “Alex, Luke hasn’t heard about le wedgie.”

I snort a little, “Ah, yes. Le wedgie. C’est une histoire touchante.”

I don’t know why Reggie bothered to wait for me to tell the story; he’s the far better storyteller between us. Maybe it’s just because I’m better at French. 

Luke stares at me, “English, please?”

Reggie and I thought we’d be fancy and take something fun like French for our required language credits. Luke decided to take something actually useful and learn sign language. This story is stupid, and my reenactment is stupid, but it feels kind of perfect. Like Caleb and secrets are all things of my imagination, and nothing exists but this bedroom and me, Luke, and Reggie. Benefits of having known these dorks since elementary school, I guess. 

About as they finish the second race in Mario Kart, Luke lets out a yawn. Reggie reacts so quickly I barely realize what he’s doing. He grabs a crumpled up Hershey’s Kiss wrapper from Luke’s nightstand and throws it into Luke’s mouth. Luke sees it just in time to clamp his mouth shut. Reggie sighs in defeat, but shrugs.

“Keep yawning, I’ll get you one of these times.”

“Why are you so tired?”

“Because I party real hard. All night, every night, baby,” Luke says, slamming Reggie’s bike with a green turtle shell. 

“Alone in your room with your guitar. Some party that is,” Reggie retaliated with a bomb thrown in Luke’s direction. 

As the race finishes Luke yawns again, and Reggie’s Kiss wrapper bounces off his cheek. 

“I just keep having these weird dreams,” he explains. 

I raise my eyebrows. “TMI, dude.”

“Not that kind of dream!” Luke tosses the wrappers at me, Reggie cackling beside him. 

Luke starts explaining his dream- something about every time he started playing his guitar his cord had magically unplugged itself from his amp- and Reggie and I just share a look. We were used to Luke being in his weird, feels-the-need-to-analyze-everything moods. But even after all these years, it was almost like a movie, watching Luke get so weirdly passionate about things- music and otherwise. It made me glad that Luke was a brother to me by everything but blood. Partly because if he wasn’t, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from falling for him. And I have a strict policy about not falling for straight guys.

To everyone but me and Reggie- immune to him after knowing pretty much every thought that’s ever gone through his head since elementary school- there’s this pull to Luke. Like he casts a spell that has everyone in a 10 mile radius tripping at his feet and each and every girl swooning. Poor Julie is not immune to the spell, it seems. Lucky for her though, Luke doesn’t seem immune to her either. 

It took barely a few weeks into the school year before I noticed Luke switching seats with Willie Meyers at lunch to increase the odds he’d end up right next to Julie. Then there’s that stupid, puppy-dog, love-sick look in his eyes that Luke gets every time he thinks Julie isn’t looking. And it’s not like Reggie and I haven’t put up with a pining Luke before, but everything seems a little different with Julie. It makes me think of Ghost. 

Would I look like that if I saw him in person? Would he look at me like that? 

If Caleb leaks my emails and Ghost hates me forever, I don’t think I’ll ever find out.

-----------

chapter one complete!

i'll let everyone know right now that i have no clear updating schedule for this fic; it's kind of hard to write and get down the way i want, so i'm not sure how long anything will take me. but it is summer break for me, so hopefully you'll all start seeing consistent posting of new chapters!

i hope you all liked this first chapter, or are at least intrigued to read some more. as i said in the starting notes, this will be cross posted to my AO3! Feel free to leave me a comment here if you would like, or head over there if you have any comments about the fic at any point! feel free to send me a message/ask on here if you have any questions or comments, too! my inbox is open any time <3

if anyone would like me to start a tag list, let me know and i’ll get that done right away!

this fanfic is definitely my baby, so i really hope you guys all like it as much as i do!

thanks <3