#i’m gonna have to pretend i’m not a socialist

[enchantedsunflowerkat]

I’M STARTING THE PROCESS OF GETTING MY SWISS PASSPORT BABYYY🥰🥰🥰

[soapkaars]

Well, Dutch government fell again lads. What does that mean? It might mean that it stays on as a ‘demissionair’ government till the next elections, changing nothing and pretending it can do nothing (but still trying its darndest to strip refugees of more rights, cut more welfare and blame minorities, and just generally being racist, xenophobic, and classist)

Or we get elections. Here’s a fun fact: we don’t get to choose our minister-president* directly. We choose a party, the parties form a coalition to get a majority, and they choose the minister-president (usually from the largest party… but… not always!!) So if you’re wondering why Mark Rutte has presided over four failed governments, and he still gets to become minister-president, just know that’s why, and not because people are so in love with his eating-an-apple-on-his-bicycle routine (‘look, I am so common!’)

That said, if there are elections, who’s on the roster? Well, we have about 20 parties last I checked. Of which there are the christofascists (SGP), the young fascists (FvD), the middle-aged fascists (JA21), the fascists™️ (PVV), the we-broke-away-from-the-fascist-party-because-they’re-not-fascist-enough fascists (van Haga), the agrarian fascists (BBB), the party our minister-president belongs to and where all these fascists seem to come from AND is super corrupt (‘this keeps happening!’ VVD), the ‘we can sometimes make you forget how racist we are with the few good points we make but otherwise we are SUPER racist’ socialists (SP), the ‘we’re trying our best to combat racism but we only have one member of parliament and lots of infighting’ socialists (BIJ1), the animal party (PVdD), liberals (PvdA, DENK, D66, VOLT), green liberals™️ (GroenLinks), middle-aged people (50PLUS), christian liberals™️ (CDA), christian liberals that may have grown a teeny-tiny spine but who the hell’s gonna vote for them (not fascist enough for the bible belt, not progressive enough for others CU), and a bunch of one-person parties I’m not going to bother looking up because they’ll probably dissolve with the next elections or they’ll be absorbed into other parties

Anyways I might grit my teeth and vote BIJ1 again because they may be super flawed, dysfunctional, have weird viewpoints that suddenly rear their ugly head at the weirdest times, and all kinds of petty drama, but at least it won’t feel like my vote will disappear in the hungry empty maw of the larger leftist parties (I used to be GroenLinks but man, that party is so prepared to throw down its ideals for a whiff of power that it isn’t funny anymore)

*did you know that we’re also a monarchy? So not only do we not directly choose our head of state, we also have a useless figurehead that we pay too much money to!

[scratching92]

So, in light of everything with WOTC, I think I’m gonna spend this year exploring other games systems. I’ve already kinda been bouncing off of D&D for a bit, but I think now’s a good time to actually commit to either playing or running games in new systems like I’ve been wanting to do. And since I’m sure there are others who might want to hear about some other TTRPGs, I figured I’d share a short list here. In no particular order:

Genesys - a setting-agnostic RPG that makes use of Narrative Dice, which generate not only success and failure, but also positive and negative complications that lend themselves to interesting narrative consequences. An example I like to use is attempting to bluff your way into a mob’s headquarters, so you lie and pretend to be a member of the mob named Jerry. You roll a success with threat, so they successfully buy into you being Jerry, except as it so happens Jerry’s in shit with his superiors at the moment, so you get dragged off to be disciplined instead of having free reign to look around. If you’ve ever played the Star Wars RPGs by Fantasy Flight Games, the system is near-identical, save a few small things here and there.

I’ve run a game or two of the system before, but I’d really like to go back to it at some point and maybe run a short campaign for some friends.

Lancer - a space opera tactical mecha RPG. I’m actually running a game of this in about two weeks or so! The mechanics seem really neat, but one thing I was not expecting when I read the core rulebook was the lore. My god! The Lancer setting just has... so much, I don’t even know where to begin. Earth (or Cradle, as it’s known in the Lancer setting) is a socialist utopia trying to share its utopian project with the diaspora, which is fraught with dystopic corpro-states, myriad worlds in various states of technological development, hacker-cults, and a bizarre paracausal entity that stole one of Mars’ moons (and isn’t even the only one of their kind!). It’s absolutely wild. 

Fabula Ultima - an RPG inspired by classic JRPGs like Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest. I only learned about this one a few days ago, admittedly, but I’m kind of already in love. It has a sort of job system in place where characters have access to 15 classes, which they can take levels in as they level-up and add skills from those classes. It’s also very collaborative with its narrative and worldbuilding, with both the GM and the players having a say in what the world is like prior to play. I’d like to play a few sessions of this when I can, because it looks fun.

These are the three main games I’m interested in playing this year, although I’m gonna be on the lookout for any others that might be interesting.

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

After doing this for like 5 years and going all over the political compass before settling on my current ideology, I’m just kinda sick of it. I’m not even gonna try to pretend I don’t hold some communist or some fascist or some socialist or some capitalist ideas, because like, I fucking do. Enlightened centrist is not for me, I am choosing a side and it will not always be the same one, yeah I don’t have a particularly popular political approach, and my idea to multiclass into everything isn’t very meta of me, but it’s worked so far. And also, debating about the economy and politics is exhausting, like, is their a clean debate ring I can be thrown into? Rules like “A logical fallacy results in a disadvantage on all defensive rolls”, tournament standard stuff? I want to do jujitsu, not this Circus Clown Wrestler crap everyone else is doing on the internet. Like can I go to a ranked competitive argument with a politics coach? Because debating strangers on the internet is about as engaging as getting into fist fights with strangers on the street. It lost its charm a while ago and it’s boring seeing all the same low level techniques employed by opponents with such lower power levels. Of course this made me get sloppy, I need to get back in shape before getting in the ring of FACTS AND LOGIC (TM). Need to do some logical leaps and fact stretching to loosen the old neurons. Maybe some Jumping-Jacks-To-Conclusions.

[bruhlsbees]

garden of eden ; 1/5 || alex kerner x fem!reader

summary: on the day of east germany's 40th birthday, your entire life shifts before your eyes

pairing: alex kerner x fem!reader

warnings: drinking (alex and reader), protest violence, hospitals

word count: 6,714

a/n: here's the first chapter of garden of eden! i hope you enjoy and if you are interested in being added to the taglist please let me know! :)

taglist: @spookyanabarnes

October 7, 1989

Alex had stopped by your apartment after he woke up and got around for the day. He was annoyed just as much as you were about the parade of soldiers that galavanted around the city. It was East Germany’s 40th birthday and many of those who worked had the day off to celebrate. Alex, being one of them, perhaps didn’t celebrate it in the way East Germany intended, but indeed still did in his own way with you.

It didn’t take him long to walk over to your apartment, as you only lived a couple blocks away. Jogging up the stairs, Alex stopped to catch his breath on the last step before heading down the hall to your door, knocking on it harder than usual - just in case you were still sleeping. He wasn’t surprised to see you still not ready for the day. Your hair still pulled back in a messy ponytail, the makeup from yesterday smudged on your face and you were still in your pajamas. You were a mess, but you were his mess.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes heavy as you were still trying to wake up, moving off to the side for him to walk in, shutting the door behind him. You leaned against the door, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him turn, looking at you with his hands in his pocket.

“Remember? East Germany’s 40th?” He chuckled at the sight of you rolling your eyes, waving him off as you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink from the fridge. You listened as he followed behind you, leaning against the doorway - watching you pull two beers from the fridge, opening the caps before handing one to him.

Alex was the one to take the first drink, letting his head fall back as the beer went down his throat, waking him up in the process. Pulling the bottle from his lips, tilting his head back down, Alex let out a sigh, wiping his mouth before setting the bottle on the counter.

“You still wanna hang out? Mom is gonna be gone tonight, figured we could watch a movie or something. Might have to watch Paula, but you don’t mind, right?”

Of course you didn’t mind watching Paula with him. His niece was a bundle of joy to be around and you loved holding her close to you, listening to her cute baby babble while she pulled at your hair in her tiny hand. You had known Alex for the better part of six years now and were stuck at each other’s side like glue. Alex’s sister, Ariane, always liked to tease him on that. - asking him where his shadow was, referring to you.

His mother, however, wasn’t overly fond of you like Alex always liked to say she was. You knew that Christiane tolerated you, and that was it. You tended to speak more freely on your dislike for East Germany - stating that you felt like a prisoner trapped in a cage. Alex’s mother often bit her tongue at your ideas, as she was a strong supporter of the Socialist Unity Party.

Alex and Ariane, while they had similar views to you, Christiane didn’t seem to jump down their throats as much as she did with you. This left you uncomfortable the majority of the time you were in the same room as her. Alex though, you knew he was close to his family. After his father left, the three of them stuck together, all still living under the same roof.

When you and Alex finished school you offered for him to move in with you. You even said that you’d apply for the two bedroom apartment on the floor below if he really wanted to move in. It wasn’t that you wanted him away from his family, but as his friend, his best friend, you only wanted what was best for him.

But here you were, around three years later and things still hadn’t changed.

“Where’s your mom going?” You asked casually, taking a swig from your own bottle, opening the cupboard to find something to eat. You decided on some bananas that were spotting brown - picking one from the bunch and peeling it, stuffing the fruit in your mouth.

You listened as he explained that she had been invited to something, what exactly though slipped his mind. You nodded, pulling some of your banana apart to give him some, finishing the rest and tossing the peel into the waste bin.

“Well, I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior for Mother. Wouldn’t want to upset her on the 40th.” Your sarcastic comment didn’t sit well with Alex, who caught your arm tightly as you walked past him, pulling you around to look down at you.

“Hey, I get you don’t agree with her. I don’t either, but you don’t have to be rude.” He was always a mother’s boy. Ever since his father left them, he was at her side caring for her like she was his god. You always kept your mother shut on it, knowing that it was obviously something Alex didn’t realize - and if he did he didn’t care enough to change.

You quickly pulled your arm out of his grip, glaring at him for grabbing you the way he did. You wouldn’t deny that what you said was probably rude, but he had to realize that it wasn’t like she was doing it to be a bitch - his mother was always at her throat, was he seriously expecting her to just sit back and take it?

“I’m not arguing with you on this, but you gotta think about how it makes me feel sometimes, Alex. Your mother makes comments and you just sit there and let her. How do you think it makes me feel? Knowing my best friend’s mother doesn’t like me-”

“Where are you getting that she doesn’t like you at? She does like you, she just shows it in a different way. Look, I’m sorry for not standing up for you, you always seem to handle it on your own so well that it just feels pointless to jump in,” He took a deep breath and watched as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “How about this? Today if she starts something, I’ll tell her to back off, okay? I promise.”

You stared up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as you calmed yourself down. There were two things he said that really bothered you: you could handle yourself and pretended like he didn’t know why you thought his mother hated you. You could handle yourself, yes, but sometimes what you needed, wanted, was your best friend to have your back. Alex was also a horrible liar - of course he knew that his mother didn’t like you as much as she pretended. It didn’t take a genius to know that.

“Fine, fine. Whatever - can we just be done with this? I don’t want to be fighting over your mother right now. It’s too damn early.” You rubbed your eyes and felt him nudge you, looking up to see him smiling at you.

“I’ll wait for you out here. No rush.” Alex moved from the doorway and to the living room, settling in on your sofa before clicking on the television, mindlessly watching whatever station you left it on while he waited for you to get ready.

It didn’t take long for you to get around. You figured at most it took you twenty minutes, cleaning your face and redoing your hair, pulling on some jeans and a plain t-shirt, your sweatshirt thrown over. You grabbed your keys off your nightstand and headed back to the other room, grabbing some sneakers by the door and sitting down to slip them on.

By now the parade had made way to your side of the street, the music drowning out the television and your own thoughts. You watched as Alex clicked the television set off, standing up from the couch and stood above you, waiting until you finished tying your shoes before pulling you up. The two of you then headed out, you locking your apartment before joining him down the steps.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After spending some time sitting outside, watching as East Germany decorated the city with flags in honor of the 40th birthday, you and Alex decided that you had had enough of the day and headed back to his apartment. You all but avoided his mother as you walked in behind him, taking off your shoes at the door and setting them beside his own. Following him into his bedroom, once the door was shut you rushed to his bed, turning and flopping down on your side, the one closest to the wall.

You shook your head in though, hands placed on your stomach as he came and laid down beside you, his head resting on the pillow that he tucked under him. Even with his eyes closed, he still knew that something was troubling you.

“What is it?” He mumbled out, cheek squished against the pillow, tired from the night previous and the disruptive morning he had. It was a long night at work and when he got home, he was hoping to sleep in and get some sleep that he had missed from the extra shifts he had picked up. To his dismay, what he got was a wake up call from East Germany.

Letting out a sigh, you rolled onto your right side, propping your head up on your hand while looking down at him. You smiled at how his eyebrows were furrowed together, his small mouth pursed, as if he was trying to sleep. He looked cute, almost innocent, if it weren’t for the disgusted look on his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed your mouth, deciding against it. Alex already had to listen to his mother talk about politics every day, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about them with you - or rather hear how his mother was blinded by East Germany. Besides, you hadn’t realized just how tired he was until you got back to his class. Even if you did want to talk with him about it, there was a good chance he would have fallen asleep before you finished.

“Nothing, just forget it.” You dropped your arm down and let your head fall onto the pillow that Alex wasn’t using, closing your eyes as you laid beside him, arms crossed at your chest while your legs curled into a ball. It looked as though you were trying to keep your body warm, but really you just liked the position. Sometimes Alex would pull you in, wrapping himself around you as you napped. You never thought much of it, it being so normal for you both - but when Ariane started the teasing, that’s when things got awkward.

It was incredibly cliche - you knew that - crushing on your best guy friend that you’d known for a good part of your life. It’s not like you were planning on it, but one day it just happened. You stopped looking at him like he was just one of ‘the boys’ and saw him for something more. You enjoyed the little things about him that you hadn’t seen before - the way his favorite blue striped shirt seemed to fit him smaller as the years went on, how he doted on Paula when nobody was looking, or even the way he would sit on the couch, manspreading yet making it look so good.

Okay, so you were in love with him - but what could you do about it?

Your relationship with Alex balanced between the realm of dating and family, as weird as that sounded. You were there for him in the way that families were meant to be there for each other, but consoled him during his lowest points the way a partner would. Alex never made any advantages towards you in the way that would make you uncomfortable - he treated you the same way you treated him, ‘like one of the boys’. You had a strong hunch that he didn’t feel any sort of romantic feelings towards you, and while it broke your heart, you moved on.

It was selfish of you to think, but despite you doing your best to convince yourself that you moved on, ignore the feelings that you obviously had for Alex, you still had a hard grasp when it came to the idea of Alex seeing someone. Being with someone and growing a bond the way that you had with him. He was a young boy- man now, you were surprised that it had been this long even for him to still not have a girlfriend.

So when Ariane woke the two of you up from your unexpected nap, explaining that there was a girl there for Alex - your heart sank. You did your best to not showcase your evident disappointment, watching as he smoothed his hair down and got up, making his way to the door. He looked out of his room and leaned back in, looking down at his sister.

“Where’s my visitor?” He asked, confused at the lack of a girl standing outside his door.

You smiled then, when you realized what Ariane was doing. She was teasing him with the idea of there being a girl for him, a date, when really his date was with the precious baby Paula. You shook your head and fell back into the pillows, closing your eyes as you listened to them.

“Your visitor’s name is Paula. She’s your date, as agreed.” You heard Alex groan, taking the baby from Ariane as he tried to protest.

“Can’t your ex mind her?” He questioned, only to roll his eyes and kick the door shut behind him as Ariane explained that he was on call for the day.

When you felt the bed dip back down beside you, you opened your eyes and looked to your right to see Alex laying on his back, holding Paula close to him. She began to fuss and the sigh that escaped from Alex prompted you up, motioning for him to hand Paula to you.

“She doesn’t like the noise, I’d assume. I wouldn’t blame her, poor girl’s ears are far too sensitive.” You found yourself talking in a baby voice, bouncing Paula in your lap to calm her down while Alex got up himself, rubbing his eyes before moving the pillows to make a makeshift bed for Paula to sleep in, seeing as though he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep that day.

“Here, lay her down. Maybe she can get some sleep.” You did as Alex asked and carefully laid Paula down, watching as she fidgeted for a moment, whining in discomfort before hitting a spot that seemed to satisfy her enough. You smiled and placed your hand against her tummy, cooing her to calm down before watching as she yawned, slowly falling asleep.

“You’re pretty good at that you know?” Smiling, you looked over at Alex and shrugged, “I gotta be. You can hardly hold her without her crying.” Alex rolled his eyes at your comment, scoffing as you stood up, nudging him before he got up in suit, leading the way out of his room and into the living room.

You weren’t surprised to see his mother in there, talking with a friend about the sizes of women’s clothing. You held back rolling your eyes, moving to sit on their sofa while Alex sat behind you at the table. You picked at the loose thread on your jeans, ignoring as Christiane and her friend continued to draft the letter they would send in with their wishes.

It took everything inside of you to not make a remark towards their letter, claiming that the idea would never get past the mailbox. There was no denying that Alex’s mother was intelligent - she was good at what she did, but you knew that if she just listened to what you had to say, what Alex and Ariane had to say, she could do more things that would help Germany.

Your thoughts were pulled out when you noticed Alex walk in front of you, turning the television set on before going back to his seat. Your attention, now fixed on the broadcast of the celebration of East Germany’s 40th birthday.

“Look at them, celebrating themselves, the old farts.” You smirked at Alex’s comment, looking down to shake your head as you tried to bite back your laugh. The mood turned sour quickly though, not that you were surprised, when Christiane told Alex that he didn’t have to watch.

Setting his coffee cup down, Alex pointed towards the television, looking at his mother, “Can’t you see what’s going on?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

Pausing the current piece she was ironing, Christiane set her hands on the ironing board, looking at Alex, “What do you want to do?” She asked him suddenly, her tone sharp, “Emigrate? Nothing will ever change if everyone emigrates.”

You glanced over at Christiane, watching as she quickly returned back to drafting the letter. It was something you learned over time that she did. Whenever someone would make a rebuttal against something that went against her own personal views, she would move on from the situation before you could get the next word in, always letting her have the final word.

When you caught glances with Christiane, you found yourself not pulling from the gaze that the two of you locked on one another. It was like a silent conversation going on - both of you daring the other to say what they were thinking. Before you got the chance to speak, or her for that matter, you heard Paula begin to fuss from the other room.

“I got her.” You explained, motioning for Alex to stay where he was, heading back into his room. You heard Ariane thank you from the bathroom as she got ready while you made your way towards the bed, picking Paula up with a smile.

“Hi there sweet girl, is it too loud for you?” You hummed gently and held her close, resting her head under your chin as you rocked her in your arms. You listened as her crying faltered into a low whining, her tiny hands gripping at your shirt. Smiling weakly, you moved your head back to kiss the top of her head.

You were happy to hear the parade soldiers finally moving on from the side of town you and Alex lived on, moving to go towards another part of the city. The music fading until you were left standing in Alex’s bedroom in silence. When you figured it was safe to lay Paula back down, you carefully placed her back on his bed, making sure she was secured in the middle of the pillows before standing back up.

When you turned around, you were met by Alex who had just walked in his room, shutting the door behind him. You smiled and motioned towards Paula who was on his bed, finally asleep.

“She’s asleep this time, don’t think we have to worry about her waking up anytime soon,” You put your hands on your waist as he approached you, smiling down at you while you smiled back at him, “I should be compensated for my services - without me she’d never settle down.”

You both laughed, maybe a little too loud with the sleeping baby in the room, but Alex could only shake his head and move around you to look out his window, watching as the parade soldiers became smaller and smaller until disappearing from sight. Turning around, you moved your arms up and over your chest, crossing your arms as you watched him from your spot in the middle of his room.

“I hear there is going to be a protest tonight. You wanna go and check it out?” He asked, moving to the chair that was at his desk finally, looking up at you.

The older Alex got, the more he found himself wanting to be involved with protests and politics. Growing up with a mother who was heavily involved with Socialist Unity Party meant he was already surrounded by politics, but when he got older and formed his own views, it meant for him to be more vocal on it. You weren’t surprised when he asked if you wanted to see what it was all about, he often heard about protests going on and dragged you with them. You weren’t the protest type, however, so you were hesitant.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure if it’ll be a good ide-”

“It’s not going to get out of hand, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll walk with them, hold up our signs, chant, and come back home,” He leaned forward and extended his hands out to you, in which you took without question, “If it gets out of hand we will leave. I just want to see what it’s all about.”

You trusted Alex and his judgement, for the most part, so it didn’t take long for you to agree, smiling when he squeezed your hands before pulling away, leaning back in the chair. You shook your head and sat at the end of the bed, leaning against his wall.

“If it gets out of hand though, we’re gone. I don’t need to be the one explaining to your mother why you ended up in prison.”

You were caught off guard by Alex who leaned across the arm of his chair to kiss your cheek, blushing as you felt his warm breath against your ear.

“You worry too much, you know that?”

When you felt him return back to his seat, you looked down at your lap, a smirk on your face as you tried to not show your obvious enjoyment of the intimacy - knowing that for Alex it was nothing more than just a friendly kiss, but to you, it was more.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Everything happened so quickly. You didn’t have time to process what had even happened until it was too late. Alex was taken, Christiane had fallen - you were all alone in the middle of a peaceful protest gone wrong.

The protest was going smoothly for the most part. You kept close to Alex as the two of you walked among the other protestors, voicing that it was the people of East Germany’s right to be able to go on walks freely without the Wall getting in their way. You weren’t surprised with how underwhelming it was - it seemed that many protests were mostly filled with older couples sluggishly moving down the streets, or younger people like you and Alex who just followed what everyone else was doing.

Walking beside you, Alex was repeating the current chant ‘Freedom of the Press!’ while crunching down on the apple that he was given to by someone in the crowd. His brain wasn’t entirely focused on chewing fully - chanting with the others.

“Alex, you’re going to choke on that.” You warned, watching as he rolled his eyes, continuing on, “Am not.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, continuing on as you ignored the fear in the back of your head of him choking on his apple. No matter how often he liked to remind you that he was an adult and could handle himself - you always reminded him back that you were the older one and that men weren’t as smart as women.

So when he finally did choke on the apple, his words cutting short, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Coming to a stop beside him, you looked down and shook your head, bending him forward while he tried to cough up the apple.

“Come on, Alex! Spit it out!” You tried to hit his back hard enough for him to spit the bit of apple out, but even your heavy hand couldn’t get it out. You grew worried, thinking the worst as you looked around, hoping to find someone that could help. But nobody seemed to notice Alex as soldiers now stood ahead of the protest, linking arms to block them from going by.

It was a girl your age that finally approached, quickly hitting him on the back, bringing his posture up so he could cough up the apple - and thank heavens did it work.

Gasping when you finally saw the fruit shoot out from his mouth, you grabbed his arm and looked at him, “Alex! Are you okay?”

He seemed to be spaced out though, gasping for air as he looked at you, nodding once before at the girl who saved his life.

“Are you okay?” She asked, pausing in the middle of the protest to be sure. You watched as he smiled shyly at her, nodding and thanking her before she took off ahead to catch back up to where she originally had been at.

Before you could scold Alex, you watched him take off suddenly ahead of you, chasing after the girl that saved his life. With your mouth open, you raised your hands in frustration before fighting through the crowd to catch up with him.

“Alex! Wait!”

You desperately fought the people in front of you, forcing your body to squeeze through the crowd to find Alex. By now the police had shown and the sirens were echoing the streets, ringing in your ears as both the soldiers and cops yelled at the protestors to stop and go back. You knew that Alex wouldn’t stop - of course he wouldn’t, he would go head first into the fire to prove something. Damn him and his fucking ego.

While trying to force yourself past the crowd of people, you fumbled forward onto the hard gravel, hissing as your palms scraped against the road. You were lucky not to be trampled over and thankful when you felt someone grab you by your arms, pulling you up.

“Careful! You could’ve been run over!”

You turned around, gasping as you stumbled back, regaining your posture. You frowned at the man who was looking at you, a worried expression washed over his face. He couldn’t have been much older than you, in his late twenties at most.

“Are you okay? Your hands, they are-”

“I’m fine!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were desperate to catch up to Alex before you lost him, or something worse happened, “Thanks, but I have to go. I have to find my friend.”

You ignored the disappointed look on the man’s face when you turned around, going back to pushing through the crowd, calling out for Alex before you finally broke through to the front, the trucks now barricading the protestors in, the cops trying to catch whoever attempted to run off while soldiers pulled people out.

It was a goddamn shit show. You flinched when you heard the first initial cry - your attention moved to an older woman who was pulled by a soldier, thrown to the ground before getting viciously kicked in her side. You needed to find Alex, and fast.

You did your best to ignore the tears that were welling up in your eyes, sniffling as you frantically began to look through the crowd, jumping up to look over the wave of people who were now scattering across the street. Alex was still nowhere in sight and the chaos that erupted around you suddenly only grew worse. You didn’t even realize that you yourself had been grabbed by one of the soldiers until you were being pulled off to the side.

“Let go of me! I didn’t do anything!” You found yourself shouting, hands flat against the soldier’s chest as you tried to push yourself away. His grip only tightened as he roughly pulled you with him, your heels desperately trying to dig into the gravel.

“Quit fighting! You’re coming with me! Not a chance I’m letting you go-”

He stumbled back when your spit slapped him in the face. When his grip loosened from your wrist you took the chance to break free, stumbling back as you watched him grow red, going for his baton that was at his side. Feeling your heart sink, you continued to stumble backwards until you found yourself toppling over someone, landing on your back as the soldier approached you both, the baton now in his hand and high in the air.

You were waiting to be beaten, knowing that it would eventually come, but to your surprise it didn’t. Your hands were above your head, cowering with the other person that was with you as the two of you prepared for the worst.

When you heard the sirens, the shouting of more soldiers approaching, you looked up and saw the crowd begin to flee, running back to where the protest walk started. Some soldiers chased after them, grabbing some that were too slow to pull them back and into the trucks that would take them to prison. Other soldiers just stayed back, assisting where they could.

“Come on, you’re coming with us!”

The soldier that originally grabbed you forcefully yanked you up by your collar, pushing you towards the truck with your hands now behind your head. Your tears were now freely falling down your cheeks, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as reality soon sinked in.

Alex was still nowhere in sight. You were being taken to prison for the protest.

Before you were escorted onto the back of the truck, you heard your name be called out. Turning, you noticed Alex who was fighting with the guards that were on him, trying his best to break free and rush to you. You did the same, flailing your body around and kicking at the soldier who continued to pull you at the truck.

You knew something was wrong when the world around you seemed to freeze, the painful ringing in your ears as your brain felt heavy. Alex’s attention pulled from your own, off to the side where his mouth fell open, the tears welling in his own eyes. Your own gaze followed his line of sight, looking at where he was looking to see his mother on the ground unconscious.

Everything felt slow passing by, yet it all happened so quickly. Alex tried to break free and run to his mother, calling out to her as he was grabbed by the guards again, kicked and punched at to slow him down before dragging him into the back of the truck, before the truck drove off.

You were pulled back into the present, everything around you suddenly becoming clear again and moving around you at a normal pace. Your body was slacked in shock as you watched the truck Alex was placed in drive off, before looking at his mother on the ground.

“Please,” You began, turning towards the soldier who had a grip on you, “My friend’s mother, she’s over there. I think something is wrong. Please, I need to help her, she could be in danger.”

You wanted to believe that there was still good in this world, that the soldiers of East Germany cared even a miniscule amount about the people. And perhaps they did, or it was your own luck that gave you the chance to go after her. You didn’t stick around to wait, feeling the soldier let go of your wrist before nodding for you to go.

You were by Christiane’s side in seconds, on your knees as you cradled her head in your hands, shaking her slightly, “Christiane! Christiane! Please, wake up!” Your head fell to her chest and you listened for a heartbeat and when you didn’t hear one you screamed out for help, pleading with anyone who listened for help.

It was an older guard who finally approached you, kneeling on the other side while he looked over Christiane. He checked her pulse and moved far too slow for your liking.

“She’s not breathing, damnit! She needs medical attention!” You found yourself screaming. The guard fell back on his knees, looking at you intensely before down at Christiane. He stood up and you figured he gave up on you before his whistle caught your attention. The lights from the ambulance illuminated off of your face, your hand going up to block the light, eyes squinting to see what was happening.

Christiane was pulled up onto a stretcher by the two medical responders in the truck, placed in the back before one of them stopped and looked down at you.

“Are you going with her?” He asked you, waiting for your response before he went back to the truck to leave. For a moment you didn’t process what he had asked you, still in shock with everything that happened. But when you finally came to again, you looked at him and nodded, standing up and climbing into the back of the truck.

It didn’t take long for Ariane to arrive at the hospital. You knew that Alex wouldn’t have been able to be reached and you hoped that Ariane would answer. She did, thankfully, and said she would be there after she dropped Paula off at her father’s. You sat with Ariane outside of her mother’s room, holding her in your arms as she sobbed into your chest, your own tears silently falling. You had been informed that Alex would be let go from prison, given his mother’s current state of health. The heart attack she suffered led her into a coma and there was no telling when, or if, she’d ever wake up.

Despite the doctor still standing in front of you, Ariane and yourself weeped together, comforting one another until Alex arrived. When the footsteps approached down the hall, the three of you turned, seeing Alex rushing down the hall. Ariane was the first up, meeting her brother into a hug while you stayed seated, chewing on your nails as you waited for Ariane to deliver the news to him. You tried to ignore the bruising on Alex’s face, but you couldn’t help but tear up even more at the beaten state of him.

“She had a heart attack.” Ariane choked out, finally able to answer Alex’s question on what was wrong with their mother. You closed your eyes and felt your head sink, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. Even with their differing political views, Alex and Ariane were still close with their mother. The idea of losing her was not something they dwelled on. Even you, someone who was not fond of the woman, was broken at the news.

“CPR was performed rather late,” The doctor began, approaching Alex and Ariane, “She’s in a coma.”

Alex seemed to be in a lost state of mind, desperately trying to process everything that the doctor was telling him. He tried to ignore Ariane’s weeping as he stared ahead at the doctor, “When can I talk to her?” Alex asked.

Your head snapped up at the question, looking at Alex sadly as you listened to his question. He was so innocent in the mind, not understanding what was wrong with his question and why you all looked at him the way you did. His cheeks went red and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Alex, Mama is in a coma!” Ariane explained, perhaps a bit too forceful for your liking, but you knew that in the moment it was something that maybe Alex needed. The doctor didn’t offer much reassurance either, as he explained that it was uncertain if Christiane would ever wake up.

Looking at the doctor, before his eyes glanced down at you, Alex pushed Ariane away before moving towards the room his mother was in, opening the door and shutting it behind him, wanting a moment to himself with her. The doctor, who didn’t have anything else to add, offered his condolences before leaving you and Ariane outside the room.

“Ariane...I-”

“What happened? Why did Mama have a heart attack?” Ariane demanded, glaring down at you. It felt like she was pointing the blame towards you, since you were the one who brought her in. You did your best to ignore the guilt that settled on you, shaking your head.

“Alex he- he wanted to go to the protest that was being held. It was going okay at first, but then the soldiers came. The cops came. We were going to be taken but when Alex was grabbed I- I don’t know, your mother must have seen and it was too much for her.”

You let your face fall into your hands, hunched over in your seat as your own sobs finally let out. Your body began to shake as you continued to cry, reality settling in with what happened and the fear of what was to come.

Ariane felt guilty herself, snapping at you the way she did. She knew that you would follow Alex wherever he went, even if it weren’t the best of places. She moved and sat down beside you, sniffling as she pulled you into her arms, letting your head rest in her lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” She whispered, stroking your hair as your cries began to dull. “Thank you for bringing Mama here. If you hadn’t, I fear she may not be with us at all.”

You heard Ariane whimper, the thought of their mother dying that night frightening her. She continued to console you, giving you the comfort you gave her, until you finally calmed down. Ariane moved your head carefully up, looking at you while brushing your tears off your face.

“Alex, he...I’m worried to know how he is going to be. You two are close, you love each other - please, please just watch him for me. I don’t want him to spiral from this. I know he will blame himself for what happened, but it’s not his fault.”

You nodded at what Ariane told you, leaning your forehead against hers as she embraced you, pulling away moments later to stand up and gather her things.

“I’m going to go get Paula, head back home. I-I will come back in the morning. I don’t expect you to stay but...if you could stay with Alex until I come back, I would appreciate it. I just need to get some things around the house. I-”

You cut Ariane off with your hand on her, looking up at her as she stopped in her tracks. “Ariane, please, it’s okay. Go and do what you need to do, I’ll be here.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, nodding before turning and heading down the hall to leave, leaving you alone until Alex came back out. You wondered if he heard Ariane leave, because only moments later he was exiting the room, looking at you blankly.

Standing up, you frowned and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word out, Alex was hugging you, sobbing into the crook of your neck. You held him, of course you did, your hold around him tight as you smoothed his hair down and gripped his jacket in your other arm. You ignored the damp feeling against your skin from his tears, doing your best to hum him into a state of semi-peace.

You managed to coax him to the chair that you and Ariane had been seated on together, letting him rest his head on your lap, his hands grabbing at your knee. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand resting at his side. He let out the occasional whimper, sniffling his tears away until sleep finally consumed him.

You, on the other hand, didn’t sleep that night. Your own thoughts buzzing with what happened and wanting to stay awake for Alex in case something happened with his mother. You were surprised that Alex fell asleep so easily, but you assumed that because of what he went through that night, he was more exhausted than you were. It didn’t matter though, you stayed with him, holding him close until the sun rose the next day.

[bard-llama]

Conflict by (K)night

@thirteenthesia​ I am DELIGHTED that you asked, because this one has a weird place in my heart lol. I know where it’s going, but I also really, really don’t longterm, so it’s interesting lmao

Okay, so this fic has 6 main plot threads:

Tournament

This plan is a little vague, but there’s basically gonna be an internal tourney, where we’re gonna have some Reynard & Anséis and Anséis & Villem bonding, ‘cause Anséis competes (possibly in disguise??? Haven’t figured that out yet). 

Then of course there’s the participants of the actual tourney arriving and the tournament itself

And then the victory dinner where Meve has to pretend she needs a knight to escort her and she is not wild about that and then the next morning when Reynard clobbers them in a final match with the Queen’s Champion lol

Criminal Justice Reform

This has been fun to develop lol I went down a rabbit hole. So basically, Gascon & Villem are Socialist Bros who decide to partner on policy reforms to make life better for all Lyrians. This is their very first attempt, and it needs to be approved by Meve and her council in order to actually happen. 

The reform bill itself is to introduce Informed Sentencing, which is basically the idea of having judges to determine punishment on a case by case basis instead of applying the sentence without looking at the circumstances of the people involved.

So basically, throughout the fic, Villem and Gascon have to fight to get their message across, while facing opposition from most of the other councilors and seeming neutrality from Meve and Reynard that they don’t know how to interpret. But Gascon isn’t willing to actually TALK about his issues with their neutrality or the whole rest of everything about their relationship at the moment. Yet.

Meve/Reynard

As of the beginning of the fic, Meve and Reynard have been together for about a year, but the relationship is still really timid and in the early courting stage and it’s definitely a source of frustration for Meve, who doesn’t understand why they’re not moving further, Reynard, who doesn’t want to overstep and fuck things up, and Gascon, who worries and frets and wants his friends to be happy even if he thinks it’ll never be with him.

Meve/Reynard/Gascon

Obviously Gascon is WRONG, but he genuinely thinks that he can’t have them. He’s aware of his feelings for them, but he’s certain that they’re too old and experienced to want to bother with someone like him. Meanwhile Meve isn’t sure what she feels for Gascon, but she hates the way he keeps running off and ducking out of conversations when it’s just the three of them so that she and Reynard can have ‘alone time’. Reynard, on the other hand, is mostly just really, really scared of overstepping and losing everything that he never believed it was possible for him to be worthy of. Naturally, we get them to figure their shit out.

Gascon & Villem

I love these Socialist Bros so much lmao

I have nothing to add, but basically, their friendship is a strength/bedrock/support for each of them throughout the fic

Anséis

Our baby knight is actually one of four winners in the internal tourney! So he gets to join the main tournament! He gets to prove himself and everyone is very proud of him, but also, he gets to grow a little bit out of his mother’s shadow. 

I’m realizing this doesn’t actually tell you much about the future of the fic, which bodes well for me in writing it lol. But honestly, a lot of this fic has developed itself, so we’ll see what happens 🤞🤞🤞

Between a Wall and a Hard Thigh

So, theoretically, we are close to the end!! What comes next is loving, worshipful sex and then post-coital cuddling and because Gascon is actually comfortable this time, he talks. And Meve and Reynard are kinda awed at the difference/at the fact that Gascon is comfortable with them now. 

After that, I don’t actually know whose POV will end the fic, but I know that they wake up in the morning in a panic thinking it was all a dream, but the others are still there, so they’re able to go back to sleep with a smile on their face. And, maybe for the first time in his life, Reynard sleeps in past dawn lmao

Send me a title and I’ll tell you where the fic/series is going next!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

TLDR: the present sucks, I can’t wait until we get to the future.

[I make a lot of posts by starting with one idea and just following my train of thought wherever it takes me. If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you may have noticed I tend to rant and meander and make posts with no real point other than for me to say what I want to say (just look through my “rant” tag), and this one is no different. I have just been seeing a lot of political posts today, and I needed to vent. I don’t know, it’s a fruitless endeavor, I’m just some rando shouting his opinions into a canyon and hoping I hear an echo, but it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something, so by God I’m gonna a keep doing it]

Is anyone else actively waiting for The Revolution™?

Like, I’m operating under the assumption that “shit’s gon go down” in the near future. 2020 was but a taste, a glimpse of the horrors to come. I guarantee you something much, much, MUCH worse will happen in 2024.

I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m waiting for the final straw to break the camel’s back. The country is a glass of grape juice balanced precariously on the edge of a counter right above new white carpet; it’s going to fall, it’s just a matter of when.

I don’t WANT war. I don’t WANT unrest. A lot of people will die in the conflict, I cannot condone it, but I often feel as though we’re otherwise helpless. Staying the course won’t change anything, but last years’ protests demonstrably worked; a lot of the calls for change were just talk, as politicians haven’t committed anywhere near as much as they promised to, but the protestors managed to ensure #45 remained a one-termer. Protests give people agency, they let them have an active role, it gave them some power or at least a feeling of power.

Nothing short of revolution will effect substantive change in this country; politicians aren’t just going to suddenly agree to stop making things worse and start making them better. They will only concede when the personal pressure is too great for them to continue. Change only happens when they let it happen; we can’t change anything unless they’re on board, and the only way to get them on board is to make it impossible for them to be off board. Southern conservatives opposed the 1964 Civil Rights Act, but LBJ strong-armed them into passing it anyway. He put pressure on them, and they relented, not because they had a change of heart and wanted to do right, but because they knew doing wrong would be personally detrimental.

We need to make things expensive for the cops and capitalists and conservatives. We need to make them want to stop investing time and money into opposition. We need to break their spirit, crush their morale. It’s a war of attrition, and we need to push them and push them and push them until they’ve had enough and finally sue for peace.

I’m a 24 year old white kid preaching about La Resistance™, I am the embodiment of entitlement. Who am I to talk? Who am I to ask other people to fight when I’m not willing to do so myself? I don’t think of myself as unwilling, I think that given the opportunity I’d be able to fight, but that’s just it, I’m making excuses not to fight in the moment! I keep insisting that I can’t do anything right now, that maybe I’ll be able to do something later, which proves I’m a hypocrite! If I actually cared, I wouldn’t be posting about it to an echo chamber of a couple dozen users I’ve never met on tumbler dot com. If I actually cared, I’d be radicalized by now. I’d be part of a movement, I’d have used my privilege to put my money where my mouth is (I don’t have A LOT of privilege, but I have enough, more than most people, that I could be using it for good)

I feel like posting about this in a public forum is counterproductive. All it does is paint a target on my back for the NSA or FBI or CIA to monitor my movements. If I really cared, I’d go underground and join an actual group, but the problem is that left-wingers don’t really HAVE any groups! Antifa isn’t an organization, it’s an ideology! There are no left-wing militia groups, no splinter cells, no Resistance! Only right wingers do that sort of shit, and they do it with impunity because the feds will never look into them until it’s too late, whereas the feds will nip any left-wing movement in the bud before it sprouts.

I want to be part of something greater than myself, but I’m a coward. I am disillusioned, but there’s no constructive outlet for me. The last thing I want to do is get recruited by some death cult, as happens to a lot of white men my age. I don’t want the message of this post to be that there should be left-wing versions of all the right-wing terrorist groups we ser, I’m not saying I would want to join a liberal version of the proud boys or whoever else (they don’t exist, and I wouldn’t join even if they did), what I’m saying is I want agency in my life. I want to believe I can be in charge of my own destiny, without living in fear of federal and state and local government hurting people. I’m relatively safe, I’m a cis-het white male, I’m not gonna be targeted by extremist groups, I’m not gonna be assassinated by cops for driving with my hands at 9 and 12 instead of 10 and 2. I’m not afraid for my future, I afraid for the future of others with less privilege than me.

I really don’t want to come across as sounding like a libertarian. Like, I don’t fear the concept of government, I fear THIS government specifically. I don’t fear taxes, the exact opposite, I would increase the marginal tax rates to their pre-Reagan levels, I would raise corporate taxes and then put heavy sanctions on any of them that tried to leave the country to avoid paying them, I’d gladly pay more from my own minimum wage paycheck if it meant other people could have the resources they need. I find myself in the green quadrant, but I am by no means a libertarian by the American definition (fuck the Libertarian party, they’re just secular Republicans)

Most American politicians are in the upper right blue quadrant. Yes, even the Democrats. Even so-called Democratic Socialists like Sanders and Warren are closer to the center than actual left-wingers in any other country. There are still communist parties in Europe, but they will NEVER be anti-capitalist parties in the United States. The best we can hope for from our leaders is to keep them from going up or right. If third-party candidates were viable, I’d be a Green, but they’re not, so I’m begrudgingly a Democrat (derogatory).

I just want people to prosper. I don’t want anyone to suffer, I don’t want people to get hurt, I want people to be safe. That shouldn’t be too much to ask, but over the last 250 years we’ve had to fight tooth and nail just to get to where we are today, and this is nowhere NEAR a good place to be.

For the right, the best society was 50 years ago. For the left, the best society is 50 years from now.

There is no end to history, we’ll never reach some cosmic finish line and be like “we did it, we’re done, we won and everything will be good forever,” no, we will always need to keep fighting to drag ourselves further and further towards progress. I find the carrot-on-a-stick to be a very comforting analogy; sure, we’ll never reach it, but we’ll always be moving forward. The carrot isn’t the goal, the destination is the goal. We need to understand that whatever we’re striving for now will look primitive and backwards in ten or twenty years time, so we need to constantly look towards the future instead. Everything changes with time, and we need to get ahead of it, we need to be ready for it, we need to accept and embrace it. If we pick a goal and reach it, we need new goals, we can’t just celebrate victory in the moment and pretend like we’re done. We kept fighting after 1776, and 1865, and 1964, and 2020; there will always be greater milestones to achieve.

[general-kenobi357]

Someday Soon-Chapter 3

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: After finding a new lead the hunt to find the Royal Merchant is on.

Word Count: 4.4k

🔅🔆🔅

We all waited anxiously as Kie began to climb out of the mausoleum. I grabbed her flashlight as the boys helped her back onto the ground.

“That's not gold.” JJ stated, as we all examined the FedEx bag Kie had found.

“Holy shit.” John B stuttered, taking the package from Kie’s grasp. “This is from my dad.”

“Code red. Code red. Square groupers! Square groupers!” JJ alerted us to the car that was pulling up. “It's the guys who robbed your house.”

“Light! Light.” Pope reminded us all, as we ducked down to avoid being caught.

“Turn your light off, man!” John B urged JJ, who sat between me and John B, struggling with his head lamp. Reaching over I turned it off for him before we got caught. We all sat in silence. The only sound you could hear was our panicked breathing as we waited for something to happen.

“Do you think it's them?” Kie asked us all.

“Homie's got a gun.” JJ concluded, as he leaned over me to peer around the corner.

“Screw this.” Kie said standing up and breaking into a sprint towards the van.

I sat stunned for a moment more before I felt someone grab my hand and pull me to my feet. Before I knew it we stopped at the tall gate that stood between us and our escape.

“You have to climb over the fence, Sweetheart.” JJ told me, leaning close to my ear and snapping me out of my trance. The only thing I could hear was his voice. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” I muttered, as all of our friends began to scale the fence. “I think so.”

As I jumped onto the ground on the other side I finally felt as if I knew where I was again. JJ grabbed my hand again once he landed beside me.

“Hurry up!” Kie urged us all from her spot next to the van.

“Guys! Guys! Guys, I'm stuck.” Pope called out from the top of the gate where his shorts had gotten caught.

“Pope, come on!” JJ called out, just before he realized Pope couldn’t. “Alright hold still.” He concluded letting go of my hand so he could dig through his backpack. It took me a minute before I realized what he was looking for.

“No JJ.” I scolded him before turning to Pope. “Pope you have to jump.”

“You're gonna rip me.” Pope warned, as Kie and John B started to pull him down. “Wait. You're gonna rip me!”

“You're fine. Come on!” Kie told him as his pants tore and he could finally get down.

“Pope, come on!” John B said once he was on the ground. We all began running to the van before we were caught. Tires screeched against the pavement as we finally fled the scene.

🔅🔆🔅

Back at the Château we all began to gather around the table ready to find out what Kie had found back at the graveyard.

“That bread had mold on it three days ago.” Pope said in disgust, from the kitchen to my right.

“I'll just pull off the bad parts.” JJ reasoned, making me cringe in disgust. “Plus, mold is good for you. It's just a natural organism.”

“JJ!” Kie urged not willing to wait any longer to see what they had found.

“Yup, yup, yup! Let's do it.” JJ called hurrying into the room with a sandwich in hand. I turned around from where I stood behind John B, watching him take a bite before promptly spitting it into his hand.

“Holy shit.” I heard John B mutter as he opened the bag and dumped its contents onto the table.

“Oh. X marks the spot.” Pope pointed to the X on the map that John B was unfolding.

“Longitude, latitude.” John B pointed out, as we all examined the map of the ocean which surrounded the Outer Banks.

“Wait, there's somethin' else in there.” I said, noticing the map wasn’t the only thing we had found.

“What's that?” JJ asked from his spot beside me.

“It's a tape recorder, dumbass.” Kie answered, sounding frustrated and I couldn’t blame her. We had been through a lot that day and we were all becoming more exhausted as the day dragged out.

John B reached for the tape recorder before hitting the button on the side so it would start playing whatever had been recorded.

“Dear Bird.” A deep voice started speaking. I recognized the voice but without seeing a face I couldn’t place who it was, partially due to the fact I was so tired.

“Who's Bird?” JJ asked.

“That's what my dad called me.” John B answered and suddenly my tired mind put together the pieces and I realized this was all from John B’s father.

“I hate to say, ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so. And you doubted your old man. I suspect at this moment, you're filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight, but don't kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn't expect to find the Merchant either…”

As the tape ended we all looked at John B who sat in shock at what his father had just told us all.

“Holy shit, he did it!” JJ exclaimed in shock. “Big John... He found the Merchant…”

“Can you... can you please?” Kie stopped JJ from talking as we watched John B stand up in tears.

“Sorry.” JJ mumbled, realizing his mistake. Kie moved to comfort John B who was barely holding it together.

I turned back to JJ to give John B and Kie a minute, Pope was examining the map again and I saw the guilty look JJ held.

“Come on.” I told JJ, placing a hand on his shoulder to direct him towards the door. “I think there’s some mold free bread at my house.

🔅🔆🔅

“Shh.” I reminded JJ, as we entered the dark house, knowing my mom and sister were probably fast asleep inside.

Once in the kitchen I started to grab everything I needed to make us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as JJ jumped up to sit on the counter. A comfortable silence fell over us as I made us food. I handed him a plate as I took my own out onto the porch so we didn’t have to be as quiet.

“I’m sorry.” I finally spoke up as we began to eat.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“I’m sorry. I flipped out at you before and I shouldn’t have. You were right, you were just trying to be there for John B.” I explained, remembering the events that had occurred earlier that day.

“Well in all fairness you were also right, I definitely went about it the wrong way.” He responded, making me laugh a little.

“So you still want to be my friend?” I asked, watching his face fall slightly which confused me.

“Of course.” He assured me with a small smile. I smiled back as we finished eating.

Once again we were back to being best friends and laughing as we joked around while we headed back over to the rest of the Pogues.

🔅🔆🔅

After gathering the rest of the Pogues we had made our way to John B’s dock where we all sat, drinking again. I sat next to JJ leaning against him. The events of the day were starting to catch up to me and I felt as if I might crash soon. I listened to the others discuss the Royal Merchant while I tried to keep myself awake.

“How much was it again?” Pope asked.

“Four hundred mil.” John B reminded, he sounded as if he couldn’t even imagine a number that big.

“All right, let's talk the split.” JJ spoke up, I could feel the vibrations of his voice pass from him to me, keeping me slightly more awake. “Now, before we say ‘evenly,’ may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us. Protection? Not cheap, okay?”

“You haven't trained.” Pope told him. “You've done zero training.”

“YouTube, bro! That's at least a five percent bump right there. Any objections? Didn't think so.” He concluded which made me laugh.

“Yeah.” Pope tried to object but JJ had already moved on.

“What are you gonna do with your 80 mil, Pope?” JJ asked curiously.

“Pay for college in advance. And also, textbooks. Those are expensive.” Pope explained confidently. “What about you, Kie?”

“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she's rich?” John B asked.

“I just wanna make a double album.” She told us wishfully. “About OBX, the Pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing.”

“Peter Tosh is dead.” John B tried to reason.

“Peter Tosh is dead.” Kie agreed. “I know. Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.”

“What about you Iz?” John B asked, as everyone turned to look at me.

“Well, I’m gonna buy my Mom our old house on Figure Eight. Then I'm moving to Hawaii, I’ll build a little house right on the beach. Surf every morning.” I explained, smiling while I thought about it all.

“How are you going to build a house? You can’t even use a screwdriver.” JJ teased me.

“Hey if Kie gets a dead producer, I get to pretend I know how to build a house.” I reasoned.

“Alright well, I know what I'll do.” JJ told us. “I'm gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook.”

“You're gonna go full Kook?” I asked laughing at the thought.

“Yup.” He nodded. “Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I'm gonna get a koi pond. Put a bunch of those fish…”

“I'm never visiting.” Kie warned. “What are you gonna do, JB?”

“To going full Kook.” He decided finally, raising his beer.

“To going full Kook!” We all agreed as we clinked our beers together.

🔅🔆🔅

“All right, keep a look out.” JJ warned us all as we pulled up to the nicest hotel on the island. “We're behind enemy lines.”

I’d been here a few times before, once with my dad when I was young and a couple of times I had gone to see JJ on his lunch break. It still amazed me every time, especially now when I knew what it was like on the cut.

“Yo, come on, man. Just put it back.” Pope urged, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked back into the van where JJ sat messing around with his new favorite toy.

“What? You can never be too careful.” JJ reasoned.

“Hey, I predict that bringing a weapon to a four-star hotel will likely cause more problems than they solve.”

“I swear to God, I'm gonna throw that thing in the ocean, JJ.” Kie warned him from the backseat of the van.

“Put it back.” I told him, taking the gun from his grasp and placing it back into the glove compartment. It seemed like me having to take away the gun from him was becoming more of a common occurrence.

“You can't grab a gun like that.” JJ explained, before he bent over to shuffle through his backpack. “Can't forget my badge. Professional busboy.” He reminded me, flashing the badge in front of my face.

“So, where are we going now?” Pope asked, as we all followed JJ to the kitchen entrance.

“We're getting on the internet because only rich people have electricity right now.” JJ explained, as we walked through the lobby of the hotel, most of the guests stared and I didn’t blame them. A group of Pogues willingly in the middle of Figure Eight was not a common occurrence. “See, they got the backup generators going? Kooks don't miss a beat.”

“Sweet Lord, the internet!” Pope cried out, as we entered the computer room. “I've missed you.”

“Let me get in there.” JJ said, sitting down next to Pope. “Gotta check out my Insta models.”

“We don't have time.” Kie tried to remind him that we were on a mission here.

“Coordinates, please?” Pope asked, getting ready to search them.

“34° 57' 30 " north. 75° 55' 42" west.” John B read off the map. “Boom, continental shelf right there.”

“Well, if it's off the deep end, it's not gonna be much of a treasure hunt, is it?” I reminded him trying not to get my hopes up yet.

“Come on, baby.” Pope muttered, as he zoomed in on the map and we all leaned in closer to get a better look. “Come on.”

“Shit, it's on the high side. It's only 900 feet.” John B let out the breath he was holding.

“That's not too deep.” JJ supplied.

“Is that doable or something?” Kie asked confused.

“Yeah, totally doable.” JJ responded.

“Will we be taking your personal submarine?” Pope asked.

“How do you know this, Mr. Dive Master?” I added.

“The salvage yard. They got a drone that can drop 1,000. It has a 360 camera and everything.” JJ explained to us. “It's for, like, deep dives and stuff. It's exactly what we need.”

“Can your dad get his grimy little hands on that?” John B asked, hopefully.

“Well, my dad's grimy little hands got his ass fired.” JJ informed us. “I guess the salvage captain frowns on showing up shitfaced, turns out. But the drone's there. It's in the impound yard out back.”

“How much did you say was on the Royal Merchant again?” I asked trying to weigh the pros and cons in my mind.

“400 million.” John B reminded us.

“400 mil.” JJ confirmed as we all seemed to come to an agreement that whatever we had to do was worth it.

“No. Absolutely not. Absolutely not. No!” Pope realized what was going on. He rushed to the door trying to block our way.

“Pope! Move.” Kie urged.

“Can't we do anything legal for money?” Pope asked me as I walked past him following the rest of the Pogues.

“When you have 400 million dollars everything is legal.” I reasoned with him.

🔅🔆🔅

“Pope, we're not stealing the drone. We're borrowing it.” John B explained, we were all still trying to get him on board with the plan.

"Humans are the only animal that can't tell fantasy from reality." Pope told us hopelessly.

“Did you come up with that?”

“Albert Bernstein came up with it, but it applies to this whole treasure-hunting thing. So, which is it? Fantasy or reality?”

“Why are you so weird, Pope?” JJ asked, more focused on the joint he was rolling than the conversation we were all having.

“It's fantasy, but possible reality.” John B concluded, after thinking for a moment.

“Reality.” Kie reassured from beside him.

“Virtual reality.” JJ told us all, as Pope grabbed the joint from between his lips before JJ could light it.

“Keep the signal clear.”

“You know what your problem is?”

“You?”

“No! It's that you need to relax, man. You're always so tense!”

“I'm not too tense.”

“Alright you two.” I tried to stop their bickering as I climbed over JJ to get out of the van. Turning back to them I added. “Don’t be stupid, okay?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a big ask.” JJ tried to reason with me.

“Yeah I’m not sure you’ve met JJ.” Pope added.

“Hey I’m not the only one who does stupid stuff.” JJ argued as they started up their bickering again.

“Fine.” I interrupted. “Just… please try to stay out of jail?”

“Yeah alright we can do that I guess.” JJ concluded.

After leaving the boys behind I followed Kie towards her car.

“Alright, I’ll let the air out if you want to go get the guard?” I asked her circling around to the back of the trailer.

As the guard came over to the trailer I pretended to be inspecting the tire I had just flattened.

“It's too easy.” Kie whispered to me, as I stood up to give the guard some space.

“So he just kissed you?” I asked Kie, she had just been recounting what had happened to her and John B when we had left them at the lighthouse. It was nice to talk with her about boy problems. It reminded me of simpler times before we had begun looking for buried treasure and had our lives threatened.

“Yeah and I had no idea what to do.” Kie explained.

I was about to respond when we heard a dog barking from inside the yard.

“Do you hear that?” The guard asked us.

“Hear what?” I asked innocently.

“Oh, Tebow's got somethin'.” He told us.

“It's probably just a raccoon, maybe. You know?” Kie tried to cover for the boys. “Nothin' to worry about. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said going back to the tire.

“I’m gonna go give them some more time.” I mumbled to Kie before I went over to the other side of the trailer.

“Are you sure that one’s good?” Kie asked, warning me that the guard was done.

“What are you doing?” He demanded as I stood up from the tire.

“This one looks a little low too.” I tried to cover.

“Wait! Wait!” Kie called. But it was too late he was already running back into the yard.

“Shit.” I muttered as we got into Kie’s car. Hoping that the boys had made it out in time.

🔅🔆🔅

“Stealing drones makes you hungry.” Kie joked as John B parked the van in front of The Wreck.

“What I would do to a beer and shrimp and grits right now.” JJ told us as we all piled out of the van.

“It would not be pretty.” Pope teased.

As we walked into the restaurant I saw Kie’s dad frown from behind the counter, he definitely was not our biggest fan. After some convincing Kie walked back to us and told us to sit down as her dad brought out food for us all. I sat down between JJ and Pope as we all dug in.

As we finished up Kie stood and turned up the music that had been playing softly in the background. After some convincing John B joined her as JJ and I laughed at their ridiculous dancing.

Noticing Pope was being especially quiet, I looked back at him concerned, he looked as if someone had taken away his puppy.

“You think Pope’s okay?” I whispered to JJ.

“Yeah.” JJ replied, looking at Pope before turning back to me. “He’s just madly in love with a girl and doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Hmm.” I hummed, still looking at Pope with concern.

“Come on.” JJ said, pulling me to my feet so we could join John B and Kie. I laughed as he spun me around.

“Pope, what are you waiting for?” I asked with a smile as I held out my hand for him and he reluctantly stood up.

And as we all danced together I forgot about the rest of the world for a couple minutes and enjoyed this moment with all my friends.

🔅🔆🔅

The next morning we had gathered on John B’s dock so that Pope could get a handle on the drone controls before we took it out on the open water. I sat in front of Pope and JJ with my feet in the water basking in the sun. I could see storm clouds brewing on the horizon but they hadn’t hit the island yet, for now everything was calm.

“What's this?” I heard JJ ask.

“Don't touch that.” Pope shooed JJ away so he sat down beside me. “I'm trying to work out this thing.”

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly, man.” JJ added. “What would we do without you to control the drones?”

“It's not a drone. It's an ROV.”

“Shut up. Shut up. It's too early for that right now.”

“Hey, play nice boys.” I reminded them looking between the two.

“Hey, once we get footage of the wreck, we'll bring it to a lawyer in town and file a formal claim.” John B informed us from the water.

“It's bullshit. Why do we have to do that?” JJ sounded like a little kid being told he had to go home from the playground.

“Well, there is maritime salvage law.” Pope told us.

“You can't just go to the ocean floor and scoop a bunch of stuff up.” John B added.

“I know. I know. It's just lawyers aren't cheap, bro.” JJ reasoned.

“As soon as they see the footage, they'll work for a comp.”

“How do you know all of that?” I asked John B.

“'Cause my dad said it, like, a million times.”

“This tether is, like, really long.” Pope spoke up. “In the wrong weather, it could get pushed around.”

“Then we'll go at dead calm.” Kie reasoned as she climbed out of the water. “Slack tide?”

“So now, we just gotta wait around for the right weather.” Pope told us, as we listened to the far away thunder. “And today is not that day.”

As we walked back towards the Château I heard my Mom calling me from the porch of our house.

“Shoot, I forgot I was working today.” I said to the rest of the Pogues.

“You still want us to pick you up later?” JJ asked, as I checked my bag to make sure I had everything.

“Uh yeah, if you’re gonna be over there.” I responded not wanting to inconvenience them.

“Yeah, JJ and I are dropping off groceries on Figure Eight for my dad.” Pope explained.

“Okay, awesome. I’ll be at the Osborne’s house it’s like two docks down from the Cameron's.” I explained, as I made my way over to my mom’s car. “Bye!”

🔅🔆🔅

As I finished vacuuming I glanced at the clock on the wall of the Osborne’s house, this was the last house I had to clean today and JJ and Pope were set to pick me up soon. After I finished cleaning up, I headed downstairs to grab my stuff.

“Hey, you all done?” Mrs. Osborne asked me as I entered the kitchen. She had always been nice to me, well nicer than most Kooks.

“Yep.” I responded, putting the tip she had just handed me into my bag.

“Awesome, thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll see you in two weeks.” I told her.

“I’ll walk you out.” she said motioning in the direction of the front door.

“Oh, actually my friends are picking me up on your dock.”

“Oh okay.” She said, seeming a little confused.

“Bye!” I called out as I shut her back door and made my way toward the long dock. As I stepped out onto the dock I saw Heyward’s boat pull up on the other end.

When I walked onto the boat something seemed off, the two boys were silent which almost never happened. Looking between them I was confused. Without a word Pope pulled out of the dock and we headed back to the cut.

“What’s up with you two?” I asked a few minutes into the boat ride. The pair glanced at each other, Pope opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but after a pointed glare from JJ. He shut his mouth and readjusted his hat, it was sitting at a weird angle.

“Nothin’.” JJ told me with a straight face.

“Seriously?” I asked, frustrated with the two for keeping something to themselves.

“Seriously.” JJ confirmed, so much for Pogues not lying to Pogues.

“So we’re keeping secrets now? Cool.” I said pressing my lips into a tight line. Before they spoke another word I walked onto the back deck. Hoping that the breeze would help me cool off.

From inside the boat I could hear Pope arguing with JJ about telling me something. I couldn’t hear all of it but I knew they were keeping something from me as their words became louder.

“I don’t want her involved!” I finally heard JJ shout, which seemed to stop Pope from saying anything more and the pair became silent again.

🔅🔆🔅

After we spent the rest of the day surfing we were all back at the Château. I sat watching the sunset, wondering what had happened to JJ and Pope before they picked me up. I worried that by the time I found out what had really happened it would be too late.

“You really think it's out there? Like, no bullshit?” Pope asked.

“My father thought it was.” John B told us.

“But do you?”

“After hearing his voice on that tape… I think I do.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Look, we're gonna find it, you know?” JJ spoke up from the hammock. I’d normally be sitting right beside him and even though we were only a few feet apart it felt like there were miles between us.

“Even JJ believes.” Kie joked.

“Oh, my God, JJ, do you really believe?” John B asked in disbelief.

“Totally. Wait. Are we talking about four mil?” JJ asked

“Four hundred mil.” Kie and Pope corrected.

“I'm gonna dream about shipwrecks.” JJ informed us all. “Good night, Bird!”

“Good night, bird shit!” John B teased.

🔅🔆🔅

The next day, the weather seemed perfect as we all boarded Heyward’s boat, ready to find some gold. I kept my distance from the others, I knew I should drop it but I couldn’t help but worry about what JJ and Pope refused to tell me.

“All right, JJ. Pin it here.” I heard John B call out.

“Roger that! X marks the spot.” JJ responded from inside. “All right, ladies and gentlemen. To going full Kook.”

As Pope took the drone deeper everyone's nerves rose. We were about to find out if it had been worth it.

As Kie let out more of the tether, I kept track of how far down the drown had gone. At 900 feet the wind was becoming too much and we still hadn’t found anything. But at almost 1000 feet Pope let out a sigh of relief.

“I'm at the bottom! I'm at the bottom! Okay, steady here, JJ!” Pope yelled out over the wind.

“You should be seeing something, man.” John B told him impatiently, we couldn’t stay out for much longer.

“I know, I know! Wait, wait.” Pope froze. “Oh, good God.”

“See anything?” I asked hopefully.

“It's the Royal Merchant.” Pope told us with certainty.

🔅🔆🔅

[thegreatestofheck]

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 9 ✘JJ Maybank✘

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five! part six! part seven! part eight!

(not my gif! all credit for this absolute beauty of a gif goes to rudypankows. Thank you for blessing us with this. Thank you.) 

Word Count - 5916 Warnings - A little swearing, brief mention of self harm Synopsis - The search for the gold is afoot. JJ visits you one morning and you say something you probably shouldn’t have. You and the Pogues find the Royal Merchant, but it isn’t everything you thought it would be.  Taglist -  @bitterbethany​​ @lovelymaybankk​​ @ilymarkchan​​ @downbytheouterbanks​​ @clearcolourlessglass​​ @obxwriterfan​​ @tangledinsparkles​​ @chill-sushi​  A/N - Hey guys! Sorry for the slow update on this one. I’ve been really struggling to write the canon scenes, but I think I managed decently with this one! Things are gonna start getting heated in the next chapter, so be ready for that. I pray that you guys are staying safe out there and doing all you can to fight for justice. I love you all. Never forget it. If you need me, my DMs are always open for any conversation you need to have. Please rely on your friend’s and even strangers during this time and take care of yourselves! As always, stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy. 

Listening to John B sob was heart-wrenching. His father’s words echoed in your own head as John B clung to the wall, the only thing that was keeping him from falling to his knees. Kie curled herself around him in an attempt to hold him together. Part of you wanted to hug him too, if it would stop the sound of him crying. It broke your heart and you weren’t sure why. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, John B managed to stifle his tears and stand up straight. Kie stepped back and away, closer to you. John B turned to look at you guys and you saw the tears that still ran down his face, eyes rimmed red. 

“Why...Why don’t we go get some fresh air?” You suggested when no one said anything. There were a few half-hearted nods from the others. Kie was the first to move. She plucked her ukelele off the floor before walking out the front door. Pope and JJ followed after her. 

You waited, watching as John B put his hand back on the wall to keep him steady. His eyes were glued to the tape recorder on the table. You took a shaking step toward him and placed your hand on his forearm. He flicked his eyes over to look at you. With a small nod, you gave his arm a short squeeze. 

The fresh air was good. The Chateau had begun to feel stuffy, unwelcoming, like a dark cloud loomed over the building. So, when you left, the night air was comforting. The darkness of the night was starting to fade as the moon started to dip toward the horizon. You would need to get home soon, at least for a few hours. But for now, your friend needed all the support he could get and you weren’t about to leave him. 

The five of you sat on the dock, everyone except for Pope perched on the railing. You sat beside JJ, one of his hands resting on your knee. The night was silent, save for the sound of the water lapping against the dock and Kie strumming her ukelele. 

“How much was it again?” JJ asked, breaking the silence. A single light shone above John B’s head, illuminating the tears on his cheeks and the grimace in his lips. 

“Four hundred mil,” Pope said, tapping his foot. JJ sighed, sliding his hand off of your leg and turning to face the others. You suddenly felt cold at the loss of his touch. 

“Let’s talk split,” he said. You closed your eyes so he wouldn’t see you roll them. “Now, before we say evenly, may I remind you that I am the one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us.” 

JJ pulled the gun from his pocket and you glared at him, sliding off the railing to sit next to Pope. You hated that thing in his hand. You hated it because you wanted it so badly. 

“Protection isn’t cheap,” JJ continued as John B took a long drink from his beer can. 

“You have no training,” Pope said. You wished he wouldn’t feed into JJ’s antics. You pulled your legs up to your chest, settling your chin between your knees. 

“YouTube, bro! That’s at least a five percent bump right there.” 

“You haven’t-”

“Any objections?” You lifted your head, hand following. “Didn’t think so.” 

You rolled your eyes and put your head back down. Kie raised her hand with a small shake of her head and Pope scoffed. 

“I didn’t hear any, so-” JJ said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“What would you do with the money, Pope?” Kie asked with a small smile, trying to turn the conversation away from JJ. 

“Pay for college in advance,” Pope said as if he could see it happening right in front of his eyes. “And also textbooks. Those are expensive. Elm?” 

“Wait til I’m 18. Hire a damn good lawyer and get my brother the hell out of that house,” you said, raising your beer can as if it was a toast. Or a promise. 

“You’re going to use your money to move out?” Kie asked. You nodded your head, taking a drink. 

“Once I get custody of my brother and settle us somewhere safe, you guys can have the rest,” you said. You finished off the rest of your beer, watching the water through the wooden railing. “What about you, Kie?” 

“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” Pope asked, turning to his friend. Kie laughed, but she looked up at the sky, thinking. 

“I just wanna make a double album,” Kie said with a smile on her lips. “About OBX. The Pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston.”

You smiled at her idea. There was something so wholesome about it. She looked so free to do whatever she wanted with her money. She was going to take it and do something she loved with no obligations, no fears, no worry. You were almost jealous of her. 

“Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing-” She continued, a dreamer’s smile still on her face. You smiled along with her. “Peter Tosh is-” Pope started. 

“Peter Tosh is dead, I know.” Kie raised her can of beer. “Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.” 

“Amen,” you echoed, lifting your empty beer can. 

“I know what I’ll do,” JJ said, looking down at you. “I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure 8 and go full Kook.” 

“You’re gonna go full Kook?” Pope asked in disbelief. 

“Yup,” JJ said. You looked back at him and smiled. “Gonna make a marble statue of myself, and then I’m gonna get a koi pond. Put a bunch of those fish-”

“I’m never visiting,” Kie said with a laugh. 

“Can Kid and I come live with you?” You asked, only half-joking. 

“Of course, Babe,” JJ said, ruffling your hair with his hand. You swatted his hand away from your head, but with a grin.  

“What are you going to do with the money, JB?” Pope asked, looking over at his friend. Everyone else turned to him. His face was set in stone, staring out over the water. Finally, he nodded and turned his head into the light, looking at his friends. There was a small smile pulling at the edge of his lips. 

“To going full Kook.” 

***

You drove back home, your mind reeling. The Pogues had their plan to go to the hotel where JJ worked to look up the coordinates that John B’s dad left for the Royal Merchant. You could feel the gold at the tip of your fingers. The answer to your problems, the fulfillment of your dream to get your brother out of the clutches of your father, was right there. You could see it in front of your eyes and you wanted it now more than ever. It killed you that you couldn’t be beside them the entire time, but you had to be extra careful now more than ever if you really wanted to get Kid away from your dad. 

It was around 4 in the morning when you flopped into your bed. Sleep consumed you rather quickly. When you woke up at 9 the next morning, you wondered if you were ever going to get a good night’s sleep with all the time you spent running around with the Pogues. 

Your dad was already at work when you woke up. There was a note on your door from Kid, telling you that he went over to Dex’s until Dad was home. It made you smile. You were glad that Kid was comfortable enough to leave the house under Dad’s nose. You had always wanted him to have a normal life where he could just go over to his friend’s house without fear of being punished for it later. 

You would wait around until your friend’s needed you, as you always did these days. Instead of moping around, you turned your music up as loud as it would go and started to clean the kitchen. Cleaning the kitchen slowly became cleaning the dining room and then cleaning the foyer until you had cleaned almost the entire downstairs. A knock at your door startled you, spinning around to look at the front door. 

You looked over at the clock, wondering who might be there. Kid and Dad would have just walked through the front door without knocking first. You tried to tell yourself that it was probably just the mailman. Walking across the room, tiptoeing, you heard the knock again. 

A smile broke across your face as you pulled the door open to find Pope and JJ standing on your porch. 

“We have a delivery for, uh, ‘one hot babe’,” JJ said, pretending to hold a package under his arm. You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe with an amused smile on your face as Pope groaned. 

“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong house,” you said, tilting your head to the side. 

“Oh no,” JJ grinned, eyes scanning your body. “This is definitely the right house.” 

“God, okay, please stop,” Pope begged, squeezing his eyes together. “Elm, we need your help.” 

“Of course,” you said, standing straighter. “What do you guys need? Did you guys find anything?”

“Yeah, we found the place where the coordinates are. We just have to get a drone to get us down there,” JJ said. 

“We’re stealing a drone,” Pope said, side-eyeing JJ. 

“It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing.” 

“We are taking a drone from its rightful owners and using it for our own, selfish purposes.”

“Okay, stealing or borrowing, whatever. What do you need me to do?” You asked. JJ and Pope both turned to look at you. 

“We need to borrow your car.” 

***

You drove behind the van, Kie sitting in your passenger seat. The windows were rolled down and music thrummed through the car. Kie hand her feet sticking out the window, bouncing her legs to the beat. 

“Can I tell you something?” Kie asked suddenly, turning to you and lifting her sunglasses onto her head. 

“Sure.” 

“You have to promise not to laugh at me.” 

“I would never laugh at you, Kie.” 

“Okay, here goes.” Kie sucked in a deep breath. “John B kissed me.”

You nearly stomped your foot on the break. 

“What?”

“Yeah, a few days ago. I didn’t want to say anything at first, but John B already told the boys and I didn’t want you to feel left out of the loop.”

“I, um, I appreciate it, Kie.” You cleared your throat. “Did...did you kiss him back?”

“I just want to be friends with him,” Kie said, looking back out the window. “He knows that. I told him.”

“I don’t really know what I should say, but I could punch him if you’d like,” you told her, glancing over in her direction. Kie laughed and shook her head. 

“Thank you for the support, Elm, but you don’t have to punch him. I just don’t want it to be awkward is all. You know I…” Kie looked down at her hands. “I wasn’t there for him when his dad went missing. I’m just trying to make up for it now, but I guess I was sending some signals that I hadn’t meant to.” 

“I’m sure John B knows you’re there for him. And the air is clear now, right? He knows that you want to be just friends so you can go back to doing all the silly friend things you did before without feeling awkward, right?” Advice wasn’t something you were entirely good at. You had never really had to give it to anyone before. Or pep talks. But Kie smiled at you and then turned to look out the window. 

“You’re right.” She dropped her sunglasses back onto her nose. “Thank you, Elm.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You two fell quiet once again, listening to the music. Maybe one day you would be able to sit with someone, listen to their problems, and give them sound advice, but you guessed that today wasn’t that day. 

Up in front of you, JJ stuck his head out of the van window. You couldn’t help but smile when he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue like a dog. 

“What an idiot,” you mumbled to yourself, hiding a smile behind your hand. JJ blew a kiss to you from the window. You made a display of catching it and pressing your palm against your cheek. 

“You’ve got that boy whipped, you know,” Kie said, watching with a smile. You turned to look at her, hoping she would elaborate. “When you’re not around, he barely stops talking about you.” 

You weren’t sure why your smile started to falter. 

“He’s got me pretty whipped too,” you said, watching the wind blow through his hair. He lifted his face up to the sun and you felt your heart warm at the sight of him. 

“Yeah.” Kie smiled. “I can see that.” 

You drove up to the salvage yard, seeing the van a few feet back. As you and Kie stepped out of the car, you looked back to get a thumbs up from each of the boys. You returned it with a smile. You and Kie both walked up to the gate. 

“Hello?” Kie waved at the security gate. “Excuse me?” 

You smiled as sweetly as you could when the guard walked up to the gate. 

“Can I help you, ladies?” The guard asked. You looked over at Kie and then bit your lip. “My car,” you said. “It has a flat.”

“Do you think you can help us?” Kie asked, with a smile all her own. 

The guard looked back and forth between the two of you for a moment before his lips twitched upward and he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I can help.” 

“Yeah?” 

He turned back toward his guard shack. You turned to Kie, both of your smiles dropping. 

“It’s too easy,” she said, squinting against the sunlight. 

“Way too easy.” 

When he came back out, carrying a toolbox, you waved him over toward your car.  

“It’s the back one,” you said as Kie leaned up against the door of your car. “It wasn’t like this when I left the house. I have no idea what would have caused this to happen.”

“Well,” the guard said as he set his tools down and crouched to the floor. “If you hit something sharp on the road…”

As he explained it to you, you met Kie’s gaze and rolled your eyes. She shook her head and laughed quietly, looking at the ground. When you glanced up at the gate, you saw the boys scamper into the salvage yard before the gate shut. You could only hope they’d find the drone quickly. 

But time ticked on and the guy was almost finished with the tire. You met Kie’s gaze again and it was clear that she was thinking the same thing. With a small motion of your head, she went around to the other side of the car to try and let air out of another tire. You lowered yourself to the gravel and gave the security guard a smile. 

“Thank you for helping us,” you said, reaching out to put a hand over his as he started to put his tools away. “I wish there was some way we could repay you.” 

The guard gave a soft smile, not the kind that you expected. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, pulling his hand away and closing his bag. “Just glad I could help.” 

You stood after him and hurried after him as he walked to the other side of the car. There was a series of barks from inside the salvage yard and you sincerely hoped that it was just JJ barking at snakes again. The guard scowled, stopping and staring at the gate. 

“What was that?” he asked. 

You shrugged, jumping up onto the hood of your car. 

“Nothing important,” you said, kicking your feet back and forth. You brought his attention back to you for a few moments, before he walked a few steps farther and saw Kie desperately trying to let air out of another tire with her hair clip. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking up quickly when the barking sound returned. You glanced down at Kie, who looked up at you, cringing. Neither of you had the chance to say anything before the security guard took off back toward the salvage yard. 

“Shit,” Kie hissed, pushing herself off the ground. “We gotta go.”

“The boys-” 

“They’ll be fine.”

You slid off of the hood of your car and jumped into the front seat, starting the car. You drove off as soon as Kie was in the other seat, only feeling sort of bad about leaving the boys behind as you rattled down the street, away from the salvage yard. 

You met up back at the Wreck, starved and exhausted. When you saw the boys pull up in the van, you let out a happy sigh and walked toward them. Pope was the first one out of the car, still shaking from the adrenaline. You walked up to him and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“What happened in there?” you asked, pulling back and moving toward JJ.

“There was a dog,” Pope said as he walked toward Kie. 

“Yeah, we heard it,” Kie said. 

“Thought you guys were going to distract the security guard,” JJ said, wrapping an arm around you as you stepped up to him. 

“Eh, we tried,” you said. “Maybe we should have sent you to seduce him instead.” 

JJ grinned. 

“That probably would have worked better. I’m very seductive.”

“Yeah, you are,” John B piped in, walking around from the other side of the van. 

“Come on in, guys,” Kie said. “Dad’s got some food for us.” 

“I love your dad,” you said, moving to follow after her as she and Pope walked up the ramp. But JJ pulled you back, putting his hands on the side of your face and pressing a kiss against your lips. You smiled, looping your fingers through the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer. 

He broke the kiss and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“What was that for?” You asked him, trying to bite back a smile. JJ shrugged, dropping his hand to rest against your collarbone. 

“I haven’t been able to kiss you yet today,” he said. 

“In that case, maybe you should do it again.” 

He leaned down with a smile, but before his lips could touch yours, someone knocked on the glass window. You both turned around. All three of your friends were standing there, holding plates of food. Pope faked a gag. John B held up a thumbs up. Kie held the food up higher. 

“Should we go in?” You asked, looking at them still. JJ sighed. 

“It does smell pretty bitchin’,” he said, running a hand down your bare arm, leaving goosebumps. You leaned up on your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning toward the Wreck. 

***

The next day, your dad hadn’t gone to work, which meant you weren’t going out. 

JJ knocked on your window pretty early in the morning. You had to tell him that you couldn’t go. He pouted, but you grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him closer. A short kiss from you and his pout was gone. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, only a breath away from him. JJ nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of your lips. 

“I’m sure they would be cool if they had to wait a few minutes for me,” JJ said, breathing heavily. You smiled, leaning down and kissing his nose. The tips of his ears burned red. Before you could retreat back into your room, JJ grabbed hold of your chin and pulled you back to him. 

Your stomach butterflied when his lips met yours, goosebumps littering your skin. You melted at his touch as his hand left your chin, finding it’s resting place on the nape of your neck, the metal of his rings cool against your skin. Every cell in your body wanted to pull him into your room right then and there, but with your dad right down the hall, you knew better. 

Still, you took your sweet time. 

He still tasted like the beach. Salt and sand on his lips and you never wanted anything more. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest and it was beating to the same rhythm as yours. 

JJ tugged gently on the bottom of your shirt, his teeth grazing against your skin. A quiet gasp escaped your lips when you managed to suck in an ounce of air. Hearing JJ struggle for breath made your stomach flip in a thousand different ways. After what Kie told you in the car about him and the way he kissed you know, confidence grew inside of you that he could possibly like you just as much as you liked him. Maybe, somehow, he needed you the same way. 

Neither of you wanted him to leave. If you could stay here, leaning out of your window, you would. Even though you were still in the house that brought you so much pain, the house that had you tiptoeing around like the floor was made of shattered glass, being near JJ made you feel safe. A word floated through your head, a word that you had never been able to claim before. 

Home. 

You hadn’t meant to say it, especially not then. The words had been playing in your mind for days, weeks maybe. Every time you looked at him, every time he looked at you, every moment you were just sitting there together, every sound of his laugh, every time he smiled, every time he made you dance. The words bounced throughout your mind, always at the tip of your tongue. And every time you had managed to keep the words locked behind your teeth. 

Up until now.

“I love you.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said them, pulling back through the window. JJ just stared at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. Your face burned and your heart constricted in your chest. If the floor could open up and swallow you whole, you wished it would. Oh, to be anywhere other than where you were right now. You shouldn’t have said it. You should have just kept it to yourself. 

“I, uh, I have to go,” JJ said, turning away from the window. Ice settled against your bones, freezing you from the inside out. The sun was hot and blaring, but still, you started to shiver. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” You refused to look at him and he wouldn’t look at you. “Say...say hi to everyone for me.” 

“Sure.” 

“See you.” 

“Yeah.” 

You watched, pressing your lips together as tight as you could, as he climbed down from the roof. You didn’t want to watch him run across the grass away from your house, so you pulled the curtains together. 

Your hands shook as you pressed your fingers to your temples, pacing back and forth. You weren’t going to cry, there was no point in it. It was stupid. It was the heat of the moment, you said something you shouldn’t have. You would apologize when you saw him tomorrow. There was no need to panic. 

Still, your heart thudded so painfully, it hurt your ears. It felt like you couldn’t breathe all over again, like you were drowning, but not in the good way. You thought you were going to be sick. Sweat beaded down your neck as goosebumps still scattered across your legs. You thought you might combust from the inside. Part of you wished that you would. 

When someone knocked on your door, you whirled around, still dazed. You quickly pulled your hair up into a ponytail in an attempt to hide your panic before calling out to whoever was on the other side. 

Kid peaked his head in. 

“You good?” He asked. 

“Yeah, why I wouldn’t be?” you scoffed, tucking your hands under your arms. 

“I saw JJ running across the grass and then I heard you pacing. Just wanted to make sure.” 

“Yeah, Kid. Everything’s fine.” 

“Okay, well, tell him to be more careful next time. Dad might see him.”

Next time. After what you did, you weren’t there was going to be a next time. 

“Sure, Kid. I’ll tell him.” 

“Also, Dad wants our help with something. Might want to put on some fresh lipgloss.” 

As your hand shot up to your lips, Kid closed the door with a smirk. You huffed to yourself, doing as your brother suggested, before trotting downstairs with your best attempt at a smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo!” Your dad was in the kitchen still making breakfast. “You look a little sunburnt. You been going out?” 

“Just been tanning in the backyard,” you lied quickly, sliding into a chair. “Thought I might as well.” 

“I’m sorry you can’t go out more, sweetheart,” he said, passing you a plate of french toast. “I just want you to be safe and there’s nowhere safer than home.” 

You smiled and took a bite of toast so you wouldn’t have to respond. It tasted bitter in your mouth, despite the syrup and powdered sugar. You couldn’t believe how heavily your father deluded himself. This house was probably the place where you were the least safe. At least you didn’t feel so trapped anymore. 

“Why did you stay home from work today?” You asked, staring at your plate of food, trying to swallow what felt like ashes in your mouth. 

“Just wanted to hang out with you guys today.” Your dad sat across from you with his own plate. “There’s some more work to do outside from Agatha. I see that you and your brother haven’t really been doing it yourselves, so I thought I might as well kick you guys into gear.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat and you smiled. 

“Yeah, sounds good.” You knew better than to mention the fact that you had cleaned the house yesterday. It would just make things worse. 

“Good. Finish your breakfast and then get your ass outside.” 

Your dad picked up his plate, shoving his share back as he stood. You flinched, turning back to your plate. He stormed out the front door. You looked over at Kid, who held his hands tight in his lap. 

“It’s okay, Kid. Enjoy your food,” you said with an attempted smile. Kid looked up at you with only his eyes, not lifting his head. In hopes to convince him to eat, you took another bite, despite your entire body’s reaction being to throw it back up again. 

Slowly, Kid started to eat again. 

The day passed with no problems aside from your dad being a passive aggressive douche bag. You wanted to make sure that Kid had sunscreen on so that the burns already on his back wouldn’t get worse. But your dad locked the sunscreen in your house and refused to unlock the doors to let you grab it. He wouldn’t even let you inside to get water or use the restroom. 

By the end of the day, you were almost glad that your dad had you doing manual labor throughout the day because you hadn’t thought of JJ since that morning. Of course, once you laid down back in your bed, it all came flooding back. 

You slammed your face against your pillow and screamed as loud as you could. How could you be so stupid? Not being able to hold your tongue when you should have was always an issue for you. Now, here you were, in the pitfalls of that fault. 

Regret floated around you like a cloud. One knick in your wall and the flood came pouring out. You were no longer worried just about JJ, but fears overcame you about your friends, your mother, Ms. Lana, your dad, Kid. If you had just shattered your relationship with JJ, where would that put you with John B, Pope, Kie? They were his friends, but were they really yours too?

Maybe that’s why your mom really left, then. You were too clingy, too comfortable, too needy. Maybe you told her you loved her too many times. Maybe she was sick of looking at you. 

You were crying before you even realized it. The floodgates had burst open in your heart, and that was reflected by the tears that streamed down your cheeks. 

You were alone in your room, maybe that was a sign. Maybe that’s where you were supposed to be. Alone. Alone. 

The thought forced a sob through your tightened jaw. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to keep any more from bouncing around your empty room. Still, the sobbing shook your body, chest heaving. You bit down on the back of your hand until you tasted blood, clamping your teeth down to keep yourself from making sound. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as pain finally sparked through your hand. At first, your reaction was to pull your head away, but you didn’t when you realized that it took your mind off of the thoughts. You kept your hand in your mouth until you fell asleep. 

***

The next day, you were sitting in your room with a book in your hand. When the knock came to your window, you snapped your head upward. Pulling the curtain open, your heart sunk when you saw Kie sitting there, waiting. You tried to smile at her as you pulled your window. 

“Hey,” you said. 

“We’re finding that boat today, Elm,” she said, a childish grin on her face. “You ready to be rich?” 

“Hell yes.” 

You followed her out to the car, hoping in the back before thinking about what you said the day before. 

“Hey, Elm,” Pope said, holding out his fist for you as you climbed inside. 

“Hey.” You smiled. John B tapped your shoulder with his hand as you settled into the seat behind his and you swatted him right back. When you finally made eye contact with JJ, that same painful ice shot through you again, burning to ash in your stomach. You pressed your fingers against the back of your hand through the bandage you wrapped around it, feeling the pain once again. 

“What happened to your hand?” Pope asked. You looked down and tried to smile. 

“Oh, you know, burned it trying to make breakfast this morning,” you said, giving a short laugh. 

“You really are terrible at cooking.” You looked over at JJ and there was a smile on his face, as if nothing the day before had happened. You smiled back, hoping that you could forget it yourself. 

“So, we’re getting this gold?” 

“You bet your ass we’re getting that gold, Elm!” John B drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, banging his head to his own beat. 

As the five of you stepped onto the boat, JJ grabbed your wrist and turned you around. 

“Hey, we good?” He asked, brushing his thumb against your wrist. You gave a few short nods, unable to look him in the eyes. “Ellie-”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re good.” You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning and hopping onto the boat with everyone else. 

The day was supposed to be calm, but as soon as you made it to the spot where the Royal Merchant was supposed to have sunken, waves started to ripple across the water. You watched with growing alarm as a storm started to roll closer and closer to your small boat. John B called out for JJ to move the boat this way and that, but the current was too strong. You could feel it pulling the boat faster than he was able to move it. Kie called out how far down the drone was. You could feel the tension on the boat, or maybe it was the static from the storm. 

You weren’t sure which. 

“It should be right here,” Pope said, glancing up. You and Kie ran over to where John B and Pope were staring at the screen. 

“Where is it?” 

“I don’t know, Kie.” 

“Wait,” you said, pointing at a darker spot on the screen. “What’s that?”

As Pope got closer, your heart dropped into your stomach, a smile breaking across your lips. 

“What is it?” JJ called from the wheel. No one said anything for a moment, mouths dry. John B started to smile as more of the ship came into view. 

“It’s the Royal Merchant.” 

JJ let out a holler from the front, but the more you all looked at the screen, the more your smiles started to fall. A heavy rock settled in your stomach. The gold wasn’t there, there was nothing but an old wreckage. 

“It’s not there,” John B said. You could see the heartbreak on his face. “Just, pull up the drone.” 

Thundered rumbled in the distance, making you look up from the screen to the darkening sky. 

“Shit,” John B breathed. 

“Look, we can do another pass. Recharge the battery,” Pope protested as John B walked away. “We...we can go back down!”

You fell back against a cooler, staring at the bottom of the boat. The gold was there, you could feel it on your fingertips, yet it was just out of reach. 

“The gold could be buried, we don’t know!” Kie shouted over the wind as it started to pick up. 

“If the gold was buried, we would see it on the metal detector,” John B said, leaning against the side of the boat. You dropped your face into your hands. 

“Somebody beat us to it,” John B told them. 

“Or it was never there.” You could hear the anger in JJ’s voice. He turned the wheel a little too harsh and you grabbed hold of the railing to keep from toppling off of the cooler. No one said anything until you were all back onshore. 

Still, there was silence when everyone stepped off. The urge to cry was right there, but you held it back. If anyone should be the most disappointed, it should be John B. You couldn’t help but think about that life you almost convinced yourself you could have had. 

As you walked away from the boat toward the van, you kicked the rocks beneath your feet. JJ walked up behind you, lacing his fingers through yours before you knew he was there. You turned to look toward him, startled at first. But then he smiled down at you. You could see the disappointment in his eyes, but there was still a smile on his face. You squeezed his hand as he brought your knuckles up to his lips. You didn’t even realize it was your wounded hand until you saw the bandages. 

It all felt stupid now. The breakdown, the biting, the tears. Maybe you had freaked him out, you had freaked yourself out, but that didn’t matter. Cause here he was, by your side. 

You smiled back, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked back to the car. 

[fidespeaks]

About Fides: An Introduction

Hello, my name is Fides!  It’s very nice to meet you and, however you’ve fond your way onto this blog, I’m happy that you have.  In this post, I hope to cover a few important things before getting started with the meat and potatoes of this blog: namely I’d like to introduce myself and, in the name of transparency, give you as many details about myself and my background as possible while still maintaining relative anonymity.  Some things have been left intentionally vague (i mean. kinda LOL), this is to protect myself.  I hope you’ll understand. 

SO!  Let’s start with the basics...

My name is Fides.  I am in my late twenties and the only information I’ll give regarding my location is that I am currently in the PST timezone and I live on the American west coast.  I currently work as a retail associate, but I have experience in food service & professional animal care as well.  I am currently pursuing an undergraduate degree in forensic psychology with a minor in philosophy.  I have an avid interest in clinical psychology, criminology / behavioral analysis, social psychology, sociology, anthropology, political sciences, race relations, gender studies, and a lot of other stuff that I spend the majority of my time studying (reading books on the subjects, listening to podcasts, ect).  I have been roleplaying on this hellsite since 2010 and I have seen my share of bullshit, believe me.

As far as gender goes, I an AFAB genderfluid enby.  I prefer they/them pronouns, but I won’t be miffed over she/her or he/him or anything else that you would like to (respectfully) refer to me as.  I don’t mind gendered slang (queen, king, dude, girl, babe, boss bitch, etc) but I ask that you not refer to me as any derogatory sexual terminology typically associated with women (slut, hoe, thot, skank, etc).  I have been out as nonbinary for a little more than a year but have been actively surrounded by enby friends for over a decade.  

Sexuality / orientation wise I am demisexual, biromantic, and polyamorous.  I have been identifying as bi since my early teens and am out to everyone in my life.  I often refer to myself as a lesbian because I am in a lesbian relationship (so if you have issues with enby lesbians, you’re just gonna have to leave or get over it).  I am married & my wife is a trans woman who has been out for a little less than a year and has a masters degree in post civil war reconstruction & the race relations of the time.  We have a child who is around three and told me this morning that their gender is “zombie”.  So... do with that as you will.

I am not neurotypical.  I was professionally diagnosed with ADHD sometime in kindergarten and I have spent long periods of my life both medicated and unmedicated (I am currently medicated).  I also have been diagnosed with C-PTSD and am currently undergoing EMDR treatment with a licensed therapist.  I am a CSA survivor & I display a good number of the symptoms of BPD although I haven’t been officially diagnosed with it.  

As stated above, I am American.  My mother’s side of the family is white as fuck my father’s side of the family is latinx & native american.  I am extremely white passing and was raised by my conservative christian mother & step-father, so while I do consider myself of color, I also am hyper aware of the fact that to the outside world I always have been and always will be white as fuck.  I try to use this to the best of my abilities to fight against racism and implicit bias when I see it and am, as I said, fully aware of my privilege. I will always concede to BIPOC when it comes to matters of race, but I also do not pretend that that voice and group are a monolith and I always do my best to make sure I have collected a multitude of opinions regarding a subject before formulating my own.  Plus, I think that white saviorism is one of the worst behaviors any sort of leftist or progressive white or white passing person can engage in and part of this blog (as you will see) will def touch upon that.  

Uh... what else?  I consider myself pretty far left.  I grew up christian (lutheran) and am now some weird flavor of agnostic existentialist.  I believe that capitalism is cultivating a hellish apocalyptic landscape and needs to be stopped at all costs (I’m a socialist ig lol).  I think that everyone suffers from implicit biases that cause them to act poorly and while they need to be educated the way that we do it currently in the rpc and the community at large are disgusting, counter productive, largely a waste of time, and extremely unhealthy.  I dislike both antishippers and proshippers equally and.... uh. 

That pretty much lays out most of my background and both my privileges and lack thereof.  Next time (ON DRAGON BALL Z) I will think I’m gonna talk about and discuss privilege and ladders of it and how it stacks and the like because I think that’s pretty important to why I made this post beyond just introducing myself.  Or... first I’m going to make a post about what I kind of want to do with this blog and why I’ve made it and THEN I’ll start talking about the interesting stuff to lay the groundwork for what I really want to do and talk about here so...

Thank you to everyone who basically read this really boring summary of myself and my life!  I look forward to talking more with y’all. <3

[porcupine-girl]

Untamed Fic Rec List

Look, most of these are reasonably popular fics already, so if you’ve been in this fandom for a couple months you’ve likely read them. Which is not how I normally do rec lists, but I’m new enough to Untamed that I’m still reading through all the fics by authors I know from other fandoms plus ones that have been personally recced to me, so I haven’t made it into the deep dive of underappreciated fics that I normally like to rec.

It doesn’t help that one of these recs is 445K, so for like two weeks straight it was basically all I was reading.

BUT if, like me, you are rather new to this fandom and its fics, here are some good ones:

The Same Moon Shines Series by sami

This is the 445K behemoth, made up of 23 works, and is technically made up of three interrelated series. The first fic, which establishes the whole universe/multiverse, is 139K on its own. Basically, decades into the canon future, WWX invents time travel.

He goes back to being born, but is reborn with all his memories intact. And he fixes, like, fucking everything and it’s so, so fucking satisfying. Everything’s not perfect though - for example, he like lowkey (highkey?) traumatizes LXC by showing him his previous life via empathy and that has some consequences eventually. Featuring ace poly JC/LXC/WQ triad.

Then in a cracky subseries, appropriately called “ridiculous future bullshit”, we assume that the main six from this universe (WWX, LWJ, JC, WQ, LXC, JYL, & Lan Sizhui) all achieve immortality and find out what they’re up to in the modern day, where they’re revered in the Five Nations (this does a great job of staying in the canon world instead of ours) but of course white Western assholes do things like try and make a disney movie called Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch where they marry LWJ off to a girl.

And then in a third subseries, which so far has only one WIP fic, we go back to the canon universe, find out that JC and LWJ were stuck there watching WWX disappear in his time machine array (so WWX actually split off into another universe, he didn’t rewind his own), and so they get into the array having no idea what it will do but wanting to chase down the asshole they love. And so a third universe is born, where they are both born with their memories but WWX is not. I absolutely love seeing how different their priorities are from WWX’s in terms of what they want to change in their new life.

(Also: This is technically a MDZS fic that usually goes with novel canon over show canon if there’s a discrepancy, so if like me you haven’t read the whole novel you might need to look up some plot points now and then.)

The Vermillion Ribbon by @unforth

AU where Wei WuXian was taken in by Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s parents instead of the Jiangs. LWJ (who is the POV character) is a super DUPER dick to him at first, like even moreso than in canon, but the speed with which he regrets his choices is breathtaking and extremely satisfying.

LWJ is a VERY unreliable narrator. He has absolutely no idea what is going on with himself or anyone else at any point in time. Eventually he at least becomes self-aware of this fact, and can at least go wait am I missing something? I think I’m missing several somethings but fuck if I know what. Wei WuXian not understanding this about him leads to some miscommunication, because WWX doesn’t get that LWJ needs absolutely everything spelled out to him in single-syllable words with crayon drawings and y’know, WWX isn’t going to be straightforward anytime he can pretend he’s TOTALLY FINE :D :D :D instead.

LWJ’s friendship with NHS is magical, and NHS in general gets 810% more opportunity to scheme and plot pre-time-of-NMJ’s-canonical-death than in canon and is honestly living his best life. It’s also valuable for LWJ to have a scheming friend because, aside from realizing he misjudged WWX, this is how he starts to figure out that he’s a dumbass who has no idea what is going on ever. But he can count on NHS to always be ten steps ahead, so it’s okay.

(ETA: I’m sorry, I made unforth feel like maybe LWJ was too dense, and no, he’s very much not stupid in general. Like, honestly the fact that he becomes so self-aware of the things he��s bad at, and does things like trust NHS to always understand the stuff he’s missing, makes him come off as very intelligent. It’s just in the specific realm of understanding anything that people say or do that isn’t 100% honest and straightforward that he is just entirely hopeless in a rather relatable way, and like I said, WWX’s go-to is hiding any and all pain so that is a bad combo.)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou

This diverges from canon when WWX is on his way to Jin Ling’s one month celebration, but doesn’t bring Wen Ning along. So when Jin Zixun attacks it goes very poorly for him, poorly enough that Jin Zixuan thinks he’s dead and it’s reported back at Carp Tower as such. Sending LWJ into a dissociative state. He manages to break through to reality just long enough to find out that Jin Zixuan took WWX’s body back to the burial mounds and left it with Wen Qing, and to get on his sword and go directly there. Thankfully, it turns out that WWX is not dead, but only just barely so.

So LWJ stays there, because now that he spent some amount of time (he isn’t really sure if it was like five minutes or two hours, because dissociation) thinking WWX was dead he now knows that he should never, ever be anywhere but with WWX.

Honestly, it almost feels like a spoiler to say WWX doesn’t die, but there’s no major character death warning while there IS one for graphic violence so it’s not a chose not to warn either, so that’s technically not a spoiler. But things are touch-and-go for him for a very, very long time. And the romance is a slow burn with pining galore. And you get to see LWJ teaching A-Yuan to play the guqin, so like imagine being WWX and you wake up from almost dying to see that going on in your cave.

Velle: to will, to wish by @aerlalaith

This one is actually canon-compliant, and as it’s both quite a bit shorter and more straightforward, plot-wise, than the others, my writeup will be short but that doesn’t mean I loved it any less. Basically, it’s the process of LWJ deciding to adopt A-Yuan in the aftermath of WWX’s death. It starts just after he’s been beaten for turning against the other cultivators, and at first it’s mostly his grief and both physical and emotional pain. A-Yuan starts slipping in to visit him. and LWJ isn’t sure if he’s really okay with that at first.

Of course he becomes very okay with it, but the Lan elders and Lan Qiren and all aren’t just going to be like “ok sure you can barely walk you should def adopt a four-year-old of unclear origins who may or may not have something to do with your demonic dead boyfriend and the evil people he helped, that’s cool,” so it’s not that simple.

There’s a followup fic where, years later, LWJ chooses the courtesy name Sizhui and Xichen gives him shit for it.

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae / @fozmeadows

Continuing on my grand tour of Untamed fics by my fave writers from other fandoms, I get to enjoy having overlapped with foz on a third straight fandom which is just fabulous. I totally thought I wasn’t gonna read AUs and then this asshole comes along and writes AUs, which is not playing fair.

I especially love this because it’s modern day but much like ridiculous future bullshit it’s modern day in (more or less) a canonish world, not our world. So like, they fly on swords, but not long distances because it’s easier to take a train or drive rather than use up all that spiritual energy.

Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan miss the old ways, though, and they think the best ancient tradition to bring back is arranged marriage! Because that will go over well with today’s youth. They try to make LWJ marry Mianmian but he’s like “um I’m gay” and LQ throws a hissy fit about that so Jin Zixuan (who is LWJ’s bestie and is fucking hilarious) hatches a plot for LWJ to cause LQ to stroke out by bringing WWX to Lan Xichen’s birthday party as his fake date.

But when LWJ and WWX meet up to talk this over, LWJ is instantly fucked because WWX has a small child with him and it turns out that this small child is the orphan he adopted. He doesn’t notice he’s fucked until a few days later, though, when WWX comes over for “kissing practice” and they fuck and he calls Jin Zixuan all “I think I caught a feel, what do?” and JZX is like idk, you’re a moron, don’t ask me to clean up your moron messes. And the next day LWJ buys a car seat.

Lan Wangji heard about Jack 110% Zimmermann and said “challenge accepted,” is what I’m saying here. And now I’ve written as much about this 33k fic as I did about the 445k, so I’ll shut up before I just recount the entire plot.

[firespirited]

Yikes

USA post got wheaton-ed. lots of angry takes and frankly i don’t disagree with many of them LOL. YES it’s lucky when you still have elections, elections that aren’t bogus, elections that hopefully won’t be undone by the CIA (man alive! That would be ironic) but people fought very hard to keep the dictatorship at bay for the past four years to get here, they’re pushing with all that they’ve got left because of judges and senators and states that refused to let the current prez take over all branches of government (and we’ve seen him try). If RBG had died earlier and the post office hijacking hadn’t been so transparent, well there probably would be been an “election” with a pretty 80% with a bow on top so Trump could have his printed red map to show off.

YES i AM coming from a place of great privilege being a brit who’s trying to earn french citizenship instead (as I can currently vote in neither) but I’m not speaking from complete ignorance. I’m a socialist, european political history nerd and have been immersed in it since childhood, also an immigrant who mingles mostly with other immigrants, often political exiles. I’m not going to pretend that americans have it as bad as other worse places. Not gonna pretend that Biden’s even close to my political tastes. I’m also not going to pretend that democratically elected officials, especially populists, don’t turn around and take as much power as possible. Fighting back isn’t easy: other countries have done the same thing as the US is now, lost and because of the extra 3-5 years they’ve got a full dictatorship on their hands instead of a dictatorship that’s just barely being held in check.

YES the US might not qualify as a dictatorship according to your definitions but they weren’t exactly starting out as a first world country to begin with. There are dictatorships with healthcare and welfare and far better covid rates ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Let’s not pretend that the US is in any way a fair country with a basic safety net where people didn’t risk their health (and homelessness from hospital bills) working ‘essential jobs’ or voting in person when mail was ruled out in states where the plague is running rampant and unchecked.

[jtkarl]

“White Supremacy, by a White guy”

I can’t breathe.

I’ve been living this life

For three decades now

And

I can’t breathe.

I’ve been pretending not

To notice for even more

And

I can no longer deceive

Me.

I can’t breathe.

It’s impossible. No?

I mean. You’re telling

Me

That the KKK can

ELECT

A man

That Hitler can be elected

And Democracy is the answer?

Bullshit man. I can’t believe

I can’t deceive

I can’t conceive

Of a world that believes

The KKK

The Nationalist Socialist Party

Is the answer.

This White Supremacy

Is drowning me

Is trying to be clowning me

Into thinking that

Somehow, someway

This is Democracy.

Douglass told us

Slavery was a fate as bad for the Whites

As it was for the slaves.

Slavery turns the slave holders into devils.

I’m no devil I say.

It’s just. Today

I saw a cop—

No. Scratch that—

Today I saw three White cops crush a

Black man’s throat

While another White cop watched.

Today I heard a

Black woman speak on the telephone

About “Of course we’re gonna

Burn shit up.

What the fuck else do they expect?”

And I was scared.

On a walk with my toddler

Toddling along.

He stopped. Sat.

Became suddenly fascinated with the Sidewalk.

Scratched the concrete.

My head ran. My eyes looked across the street.

Cross? Do I take the chance?

Do I walk past?

WITH MY SON?

What if she attacks us?

WE’RE WHITE.

No. Face your fears. Just stay close.

He runs ahead. Stops. Looks at

The Black woman.

“Hey handsome!” she says.

“I got Lightning McQueen!” He says.

“He’s fast!” He says.

“Oh yeah?” She says.

“Well you two have a

Great

Rest of your day”

She says.

You too.

Shame. Fear.

Relief.

Hatred of myself.

White Supremacy is

Killing me.

Slavery turns the slave holders into

Devils.

Who’s that devilishly

Bad

Looking man

Looking at me in the

Mirror?

Do Devils breath?

I.

Can’t.

Breath.

It hurts. My stomach hurts.

Everything hurts.

How could they ignore that?

Three crushing. One watching.

I watch

As

My throat gets crushed

Under the knees of White Supremacy.

The knees that promise

To serve and protect

Me.

I watch myself become

The one

That looks so lonely

At himself

And wonders what he’s

Become.

It’s the same story

Year after

Year after

Year.

We act shocked. We act surprised.

The KKK elected our president.

What the fuck else do we expect?

My words ring true in my ears

But

The white devil on my shoulder shoulders

Me to go on.

How do I ignore that?

[tenitchyfingers]

I’m so weirded out because like my grandma died a LONG time ago and my dad yesterday was like “today grandma would be 100 years old” and it’s like... wow. I mean, sure? But still... wow. 100 years, she was pretty much born during the rise of fascism and she must have been a 20something during ww2... my dad was born like 5 years after the end of it which means he was born at the start of the cold war

And my grandparents lived during fascism and were definitely adults at the height of it. And I don’t know how they felt about it. Whether they were collaborators or not, whether they valued their own lives above others or not, whether they were fascists or partisans or pretending to be fascists to survive... i don’t know. And I don’t know if I want to know. I’d rather remember my grandma as granny who took care of me and ate snacks with me in front of the tv and played cards and tabletop games with me. Should I wanna know? I don’t know. It’s weird. I know nothing about all of my grandparents, because they died too soon and I never asked. Because I mean, she died when I was starting middle school and I’d never been a particularly curious kid, and my other grandma... I didn’t have a tight relationship with her, but granny... had I known she would pass so soon, maybe I would have tried asking. She never offered stories, and I didn’t ask. Maybe she didn’t want to expose me to the full fucking cruelty humans are capable of while I was still going to primary school? I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting too fixated on this and the possibility to ask is gone. Maybe it’s ok this way, and it’s ok that I never asked and she never told me anything. I’ve read Apt Pupil ok

And like yeah these events are not so old, in the big scheme of things 100 years are nothing, there are still holocaust victims that are alive, there are people alive who were there during segregation and the apartheid and I’m definitely not gonna say some shit like “look how we’ve progressed” because we really have not after all, but... these things have been taught to me like they’re something very far away, very far removed from me, from us. And my grandma lived through them and now she’s gone (and nope I can’t ask my other granny or my grandpa because they’re all long gone too) and I’m beating myself over the head for not asking them for their perspective. She lived to see the decade of fash and commie terrorism... she was there when women got the right to vote... she was there and was 26 when the country ceased being a monarchy and became a democracy... but I know nothing about her perspective about anything before my birth. I know nothing about my grandparents except for what I saw. I just know my grandpa was inprisoned in France and thus that he hated the French? Or something like that? And that’s all I know. I guess the trauma was still too strong at the time of their death, I’m thinking about it now. Or maybe they just didn’t like thinking about it, maybe it was too painful or too shameful. I don’t know.

And I’m also thinking about how maybe a lot of other Italian kids feel this way, because we as a country never allowed ourselves to look back and face the shit we did to each other and to other people, the colonization, the fact that we never really fucking punished fascists properly, the fact WE HAVE FASCIST PARTIES RIGHT NOW, OCCUPYING PUBLIC BUILDINGS ILLEGALLY AND STORING WEAPONS, MEETING AND PLANNING AND BURNING LIBRARIES AND WEARING FUCKING “AUSHWITZLAND” TSHIRTS WITH THE DISNEY FONT, GOING TO BED WITH THE BIGGEST RIGHT WING PARTY IN THE COUNTRY, FOLLOWING A DUDE WHO ECHOED SHIT MUSSOLINI SAID RIGHT BEFORE BECOMING A DICTATOR. But the communist and socialist parties are all pretty much gone, also thanks to the fucking US meddling as always (thanks guys! You really did us a solid there!) - speaking of, I wonder what our country would be like today if all the socialist leaders hadn’t been assassinated either by the neofascists or infighting or outsiders (because yeah, all Americans are outsiders and the only thing we like about America is the media, which is why I think it’s ridiculous when y’all call yourselves Italian just because you saw The Sopranos and your great great great grandfather was cousins with a first generation Sicilian immigrant and you only knew it by looking at a family tree thingie because no, being Italian is a matter of shared culture and language and traditions and history and you’re not Italian if you can’t even speak Italian and participate in our culture and didn’t even bother getting a fucking paper to attest your citizenship because anything else is inappropriate and we’ll clock you as a fake pseudo-Italian who’s pretending to be Italian because “it’s exotic and cool” instantly anyway and “blood” is completely irrelevant and an essentialist, I’d say it’s also inherently racist because it’s based on the idea that your genes determine your identity and who you are, and guess who says that? Racists! Fascists, even. I would know what fascism is, I’M ITALIAN, and Italian-American culture has nothing to share with Italian cultures at this point, so just fucking say you’re American and deal with it however you will, but stop pretending you’re anything else. You’re some sad bum from New Jersey or whatever, just embrace it and stop acting like being 1/22738284 Italian on your father’s side means being Italian because that’s not the case at all.) (if you’re gonna say like “lol who even wants to be Italian”, then good, thank you. I’d rather be reviled as an Italian than having fucking yanks pretending they give a shit about Italy or be Italian. If you want to be Italian then you should live here, participate in our culture, show the bare minimum actual interest in living with us, learn our language - and it doesn’t matter that you speak it well or not, the important would be TRYING, we’re thrilled whenever someone shows interest but you don’t get to be American in every way but say you’re Italian without even trying to interact with us truthfully, just because you ate at Olive Garden - which by the way is NOT Italian food - once and because it feels exotic and foreign or whatever the fuck the appeal is. Fuck that. You obviously get to say you’re Italian-AMERICAN but not Italian. I will fight you any time over this. /Italian rant #57285939)

I honestly don’t know what the fuck happened exactly and what will happen. I don’t know and I’ll never know my grandparents’ stories because I never fucking had that conversation with them and that sucks. 100 years though. Wow. It’s been 100 years since 1920. “The roaring twenties”, but my great-grandparents probably didn’t live them that way. They were poor as fuck farmers who lived in rural north Italy and lived in what was effectively still a feudal system. PRACTICALLY FEUDALISM ALL THE WAY TO MY PARENTS’ TIME, I know that much cause my parents, inversely, my parents can’t shut up about how poor they were and how great farm life was (you know, I can understand why they feel that way, rural life is so quiet and I love the optics of it, the simplicity, the “do it yourself” style of living, i love my garden with snails and tomatoes and fruit all over and greens, I love it when I can just go outside and drink my coffee and be quiet. I would never live in the city because I like the countryside and I saw how life in London is... it’s too big and too busy and I’m already anxious as shit as it is. And like yeah maybe it’s a bit inconvenient sometimes but it’s ok, I live right next to the town where pretty much all of my social life is and i love taking walks among the fields, and this is also why I hate reading city people’s takes on how the countryside is shit... fuck off, it’s great and you’re just too superficial and spoilt and too far removed from nature to understand the appeal but don’t worry, when you grow old you’ll probably move to the countryside too and you’ll get it. Also people like saying rural communities are too racist... sure, we’re racist, but you’re racist too and you better not delude yourselves into thinking you’re any less fucking racist just because you vote dem and you have black friends, it’s bullshit and deep down you know it, I know you’ve heard racial slurs even in the city, maybe you’ve witnessed to race-based bullying against kids, you’ve heard racist shit and maybe you’ve done racist shit and swept it under the rug out of shame. At least with rural racists you know exactly what they think because they’ll let you know soon enough; city racists and especially dem racists love their public image too much to expose themselves and would never admit they didn’t hire someone because of their name or that they used the n-word “privately” - hi Destiny - or that they think non-white people can exist but far away from them, it just doesn’t look good and they would be shunned in liberal circles!).

Anyway. 100 years. That’s insane.*

And now I’m here on my phone trying to convince my parents to install fiber internet. In just a 100 years this is what happened. Happy birthday nonna, I guess?

*(Again, I know, duh, but I never thought about it ok?)

[queernuck]

reddit is fucking awful lmao

on a post titled “With all the bullshit going on, I decided it's finally time to arm myself. First time gun owner.” in r/ar15, the person talked about how it’s not coronavirus that’s got them scared or deciding to finally strap up, and that it was ridiculous to suggest as much. nobody was really prodding them on their decision, and when I asked they said “mandatory medical procedures in the US”

now, I’m pretty sure that there aren’t any really notable medical standards that are changing in the US or procedures that are gonna become mandatory, what exactly was there to be worried about? i pointed out that if anything, climate crisis is a better reason to arm yourself, whether you think of it from a rather reactionary perspective of needing to kill those who would harm you and take what you have, or from a perspective of making it so those armed guards billionaires have hired through shell companies and PMCs have to actually earn their money and think for a second about why they’re being paid to protect people who they mean nothing to (and for that matter, police and military wondering similar things in a similar situation)

the person responded “With all due respect I really don't care to discuss it with you. If you're in the US and don't see what's happening, then I am not going to convince you.”

what the fuck

what the fuck are you talking about

you didnt even know enough to know that .300 blackout existed before you bought a rifle chambered for it and now you’re ready for whatever it is?

looking at even “normal” posters on gunnit is fucking wild and why is it that to get into guns you almost uniformly have to deal with some of the most boring reactionary motherfuckers on the planet like dudes who think being “anti-socialist” is an actually meaningfully rebellious position in contemporary america, buy Spike’s Tactical “snowflake” lowers and justify it by it being on sale, and wear flannel with their plate carriers because of a youtuber doing it (and not because it admittedly looks bitchin)

i just want to be into guns dudes like 10cellphones on ig/twitter are much more interesting people who enjoy custom guns and music made by people under 60 and listened to by normal people under 55, people who aren’t astoundingly mad that someone on reddit collects guns AND sneakers, people who are like “maybe we don’t need to publicly execute gays and drug users”

like again so rarely is “legalize all drugs and give everyone guns” a genuinely libertarian position because most “libertarians” are really just stans for Chicago Boys-esque economics and reactionary social reforms who pretend that it’s in the name of freedom rather than having any kind of meaningfully anarchist position. yeah okay lesbian couples protecting legal marijuana farms with machine guns but i wanna protect my cocaine/heroin/black market xanax factory and many barrels of ketamine with a Polymer80 Glock with the only serial number being 66642069

[yievie]

whew! what’s up everyone! my name is crissy and yes, i am the clown who sent my account ask on anonymous last night. luv that for me! I GOT A COOL FAMILY ICON IM CRYING!!! now this is yi eun hye, better known as evelyn yi or evie, paging dr. sexy md don’t call her that though, she’ll kill you omg the second eldest princess of the four neglected korean princess sisters aka the mom friend sister or the buzzkill responsible sister. 

~`click anywhere here for a link to my app ~

under the cut i’m gonna throw some important personality and background stuff along with maybe? half-formed plot ideas? if not i’ll make a follow up post later, but pls like this plot if you wish to plot, i’ll try to come bother u. my ims are open hmu anytime (also bc im anxious af to b first message bc im BABY) and I ALSO have a discord located at quarantine queen#2918 where i’m usually v v v active. (lmk if u cant add me shoot me a message on here and ill fix it) ok imma shut up here is cranky daughter! ITS LONG SRRY

( pS: also if my blog is too hard to read just stick /mobile on the end of the url xx )

background 

the empress and emperor of korea had 5 kids, 4 daughters, 1 pampered son and evie was the second oldest daughter after dianna but like, she’s bossy and high strung and acts like the oldest anywayS so it doesn’t matter!

woo! however, korean tradition is rooted deeply in patriarchy and other backwards thinking,  >:(((( so evie’s parents basically pretended like their son was the only kid they had and sent evie and her 3 sisters off to swedish boarding school to ROT as they each turned 10 and forgot abt them while they groomed their son for the throne! thx mom n dad! luv u too! sdjlaksjd

during her time at boarding school evie was expected to not learn much of anything, not do anything spectacular, she wasn’t expected very good grades or to be smart or successful or anything bc that was Men’s Work and so evie did . . . THE EXACT OPPOSITE.

evie EXCELLED in school, straight a’s, top of her class, honors, ap valedictorian, which meant all nighters, nose bleeds at 2am from studying too hard, looking dead walking through the hallways, eating ramen 25/8, falling asleep w her face in her textbooks, getting bullied a lot for being a nerd and Not looking like her sisters and like...the creature from the black lagoon.

her parents, understandably, were not very happy with this but it wasn’t until she wanted to go to medical school that her parents were like FURIOUS. to them, women, esp the princesses, were only supposed to get married, have kids, THAT WAS IT. so evie wanting to be a doctor enraged them. STAY MAD!

they tried to have her engaged SO. MANY. TIMES. but she has a really repellent personality, she’s very kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you. and is rude and states her very liberal very socialist opinions often, dresses sloppy and hurts mens feelings a lot just for fun so they all went rUNNING from those match appointments! her parents literally are losing their minds they don’t know what to do w her theyre like god why did we give birth to the aNTICHRIST!?!?!?

not wanting anything to do with her parents, evie got into college and medical student on scholarship based on her own merit and skill. evie went to the seoul national university for 4 years then did a 2 year residency at the country’s top hospital, becoming one of the best on call heart surgeons there.

the korean media likes to clown on her A LOT! bc shes scary and angry and cares very little abt her appreance is A DOCTOR and not a princess really for the opposite reason they clown on dianna but evie does not really care she doesn’t care abt impressing people, just saving lives and proving people wrong. finger guns

but yes! thats what u missed on glee. evie was a heart surgeon in korea before being shipped off to thailand! shes v salty by the way ... even more than usual.

fun facts?

evie wears massive grandma glasses to see bc shes BLIND when shes in line with her sister people do not think she’s related and are like “OMG OMG THE PRINCESSES!!! BUY WHATEVER U WANT ON THE HOUSE I--oh? maam? uh? can we help u, ahjumma?” HELP

very dry, mean, will call you out on ur shit and hurt ur feelings probably. doesn’t really know how to Chill or have fun, stays out of drama and parties for the most part literally that old man that tells u to get off their lawn

LOVES HER SISTERS!!!! LOVES THEM!!! moms them and nags the FUCK out of them tho abt everything. wear a sweater its cold, drink water, dONT DO THAT GET DOWN FROM THERE, i told u to eat before u drank all that soju pabo!!!! skhaslkfh BUT SHE LOVES THEM VERY MUCH HER WOOOORLD the only people shes kind of nice to

as stated, has tried to been matched up before but has basically scared away all her matches by being A Lot and not polite or dainty and burping probably

her mom calls her all the time to talk abt how shes having a heart attack bc her second daughter is an unmarried, childless, spinster with a cat who is embarrassing her by being a doctor and being loud and obnoxious and outspoken against the royal heirarchy and right wing politics. evie just puts her on mute and lets her keeping yelling at no one for the next hour

loves beer, loves fried chicken, very unladylike, wears oversized sweaters and her hair messy and watches love island australia and the bachelor just to make fun of the people being in love and stupid i think secretly she kind of wants it but...thinks shes unlovable and will die before she says that shh

bisexual legend! cue mr and mrs yi screaming somewhere

not that it matters bc she cares little abt romance and sex and always put work and school before everything so everything touchy like that she either ends abruptly or stays the hell away from

never parties or goes out but when she does get really drunk gets very cute and touchy and happy there is one video on the internet of her like on a table ashdkh yikes 

is soft deep down just like *shrek voice* donkey, orges are like onions they have layers and u gotta get past a lot of them for her to get past her level 4 tragic backstory and into the soft, vulnerable part of her personality its nice i promise she is SQUISHY

weird plots???

best friend? im sure she has one somewhere. or friends at all? people who arent scared of her who shes nice to....mostly

enemies woo! hate her its very easy to hate her so do it

u want to do a daredevil thing like when matt shows up bleeding and dying or after a fight or something and she patches u up

just anyone need a doctor bc paging dr sexy md~

past loves? boyfriend? girlfriend? weird flings? weird tension unresolved stuff WOOO

ANYONE who broke her heart for the angst and drama

hit on her itll b funny

anyone who she was previously matched w who she scared off

someone shes currently trying to be matched or betrothed to GOOD LUCK

someone she has a crush on YIKES or vice versa

any of the college kids need a tutor? 

roommates? 

ANYTHING PLS HMU <333