#im hoping it works because im using a pattern that's the closest i could find to trash without it being super complex

[pilotstreets]

attempting to make trash out of perler beads rn :-)

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you���d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

im watching a deep sea documentary because i couldnt find an octopus one anymore im hoping for a squid and i know these arent octopuses but im definitely still adopting this for my octopus timelord headcanons

because octopuses also change their skin and everything. so they light up in dimensions we cant see

for one thing i think of course emotional expression and... manipulation? i dont think thats the word but like when 13 is doing her thing with tim shaw or the daleks “now you’re worried” or with the sontaran “youre looking at her” stuff like that when shes putting on a show and leaning into the ways shes a threat, i think in those moments if you could see in idk 17 dimensions you could see her light up in patterns that mean THREAT or maybe even, i think this is even more likely actually, patterns meant for luring in prey.

or like, dominance signals?

A dominance signal is used in a dominance hierarchy or pecking order to indicate an animal's dominance. Dominance signals are a type of internal environment signal that demonstrate the signalers attributes. Dominance signals are necessary for several species for mating, maintaining social hierarchies and defending territories.

im not sure if any social insects in colonies do this, but octopuses seem to:

Although colorblind, octopuses have excellent vision – consequently, by using highly contrasting chromatic signals, octopuses can clearly display their intent (e.g., to show dominance or submissiveness) 

and right now im imagining gallifreyans as like a cross between a social insect and octopuses with super long lifespans i think (also bc like, octopuses die really quickly after mating and have this sort of abrupt aging process which might have been a reason for tecteun to be so !!! when she saw the timeless child regenerate)

anyway point is when the doctor is Showing Off theyre doing like dominance signaling im imagining something like this:

and i imagine that for timelords then the more complex and symmetrical the tentacle shapes are, like thats better, and then the more complex and intricate the patterns you can flash on them are thats also better, then youre winning. but like, this is all not in dimensions we can perceive right? so it doesnt LOOK like this this is just the closest i can come with my puny human senses. they wouldnt even be seeing it it would be with some other sense i think. anyway.

and i think other time sensitive species can also see/sense this, daleks definitely can, and theyre kinda squiddy too so like, thats why theyre mortal enemies asdkfkjhg im kidding. but i do think it works extra well on daleks

and i think they can signal lots of other things too, thats why gallifreyan doesnt translate. 1) theyre telepathic so they have fewer/different words/concepts for things, in words at least, and 2) theyve got all This to even further like, talk, i guess. everything like emotional and social and stuff all happens without words. so in human contexts the doctor must feel like, very limited, in both perception and expression

and i can also imagine there might be like, specificities to how they move or look or what shapes they tend to in certain context that are all specific to the individual. like handwriting or your face or how your voice sounds.

and i can also imagine that the way you interact like tentacle wise also depends on the relationship. like, the nuances of the communication shape themselves to the relationship the same way it does, like, with our languages

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

The Missing Guardian | Prologue: Act I Scene II | Mondstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

A.N. yay! second chapter! hope you guys enjoy and sorry for any typos! this chapter is also a day late :/ sorry again about that. im currently going through a lot family wise, but i wanted this to come out as soon as i could get it out. in compensation, you guys have another birthday character coming out and hopefully the first i love you prompt :D anyways, enjoy!

Word Count. 2,213 words

Page Count. 6.5 pages

TWarnings. cursing 

Synopsis. When you’ve finally found a home in a set of twins who travel across worlds, setting out to enjoy your time with them; learning everything you could while traveling from world to world. But this time was different, because this time, someone stood in your way from continuing forward, from going home. You watched as your family was torn from you once again, leaving you stuck in a world alone with only a guide, the memories of a life long left behind, and the hope of finding them once again.

[ Series Masterlist: The Missing Guardian Mini Masterlist ]

[ previous ] [ Act I Scene II ] [ next scene ]

        You smiled as your gaze looked out the window, the eternal abyss staring back as it was littered with the misty colors of turquoise, lavender, and many shades of rose- stars littering the rest of the scene in front of you. You leaned your head against the metal framing of the window, your hair cushioning you comfortably as thoughts sat still in your mind, your body calm as well.

        How long has it been since you were on the ship?

        "Hey kid, don't sleep with your neck like that- you'll mess it up" Quills voice rang out, but it sounded far away, muffled. You didn't know if it was cause of your tiredness or your spaced out state, but you couldn't seem to care by that point. You felt thick gloves move around your neck, the other moving under your knees, before a huff and some grumbling.

        "I don't know what you'll do without us, but even then," He sighed, carrying your body to the closest area where you could rest properly under his gaze, on the plush rest area in the cabin, allowing him to navigate the stars while keeping you near- though he'd vehemently denied it at any and every comment about it, the Guardian had grown attached to you, finding a child in you where you found a father in him.

        "I don't think I want you leaving the nest so soon."

        "As we all know, poetry and language flow like the wind. There'll definitely be someone there who knows about your friends. At least, that's what Paimon thinks!" Your guide chimed, hovering in front of you as you both made your way down the side of the hill, the vibrant and thick greens of the grass and trees were only further complimented by the sun- this place definitely was beautiful. You didn't feel warm, or overheated, which surprised you, especially with how bright the sun was. The cool breeze was constant in this place, giving an Autumn chill to a Spring setting, at this rate you'd think you'd need your body suit to warm you up.

        "Whether the gods actually answer you is a different story. You never know unless you try. So let's hop to it!" You can practically feel her smile, her small head turning back to you, Paimon's small body bouncing up at how you were listening to her so intently. By the time you reached the statue, she started to cross again, having the privilege of floating while you... did not.

        "You can swim right over! Don't push yourself though!" 

        "Let's just hope I don't sink with all the gear I have... or get electrocuted." You joked, walking into the water till your hot waist level, deciding at that point swimming was best.

        "W-what? Don't just jump in then!" She shouted, still loud as ever in that tiny body of hers, floating above you with a worried look on her face.

        "I'm fine, I'm fine. My gear is all waterproof, so there isn't an issue there." You huffed, climbing onto the shore of the tiny island before shaking off the water and straining what you could, lightening your load as much as allowed. 

        "See? All good."

        "Well don't joke like that! Paimon doesn't know what she'll do if anything happens to you... Paimon doesn't even wanna think about it!" She exclaims, a hand to her head, her face still concerned. You sighed, a small smile coming to your face before you took a small hand into your own, rubbing the soft skin to soothe her.

        "Alright. I'm sorry about that joke, I won't make any of those types again, alright? I'm not going anywhere. Not without you, Paimon." You smiled, sincerity in your voice, making her smile and nod her head.

        "Good! Paimon’ll make sure to keep that in mind for the future."

        "I'll hold you to it." You smirked, walking up to the statue, finding interest in the large golden plate. You reached out, taking the glove off your hand to get a proper feel of the metal, before taking a step back in shock. The statues' indentations lit up and aquamarine, the one you were so used to seeing outside of terrestrial planes, before a deep thump resounded in your head- much like a heartbeat. A small swirl of wind danced around the statue before the orb held in place started to glow, small particles combing in the center before forming a small sigil with wings that flew straight towards your chest.

        You felt a rush of cool air through your veins, like an excitement you couldn't explain, whips of teal surrounding your body as you could only take another step back and look to your uncovered hand to see for any physical changes as well- to which there were none. But you felt something. In your chest, your heart, something that was stirring and it didn't seem to slow down.

        "Ooh! Did you just feel the elements of the world?" Paimon asked, allowing you to turn and face her, your face still showing a stunned expression from... whatever that was.

        "Seems all you had to do was just touch the statue and you got the power of Anemo! As much as they may want it, people in this world can never get a hold of powers as easily as you..." She explained, crossing her arms over the matter, an idea popping into your head at the same time.

        "I think I might know why-"

        "Ah-ha, it's because you're not from this world to begin with. If we keep heading West from here, we'll eventually reach Mondstadt, the City of Freedom. Mondstadt is the city of wind because they worship the God of Anemo." She cuts you off, making you only hum at the action, allowing her to continue.

        "So perhaps, because you got the power from the God of Anemo, you can find some clues there. There are also lots of bards there, so perhaps one of them has heard news of your friends." 

        "That isn't a bad idea, Paimon." You smiled, thankful she was so serious and straightforward with helping you find the twins, something that seemed to be floating around in your head as you took in everything from this new world. She was like an anchor to keep you grounded, and for that, you were extremely thankful to her- beyond words.

        "Let's move then!" Obviously happy with your praise at her deduction and planning, though simple, it was a good and steady start- and that's what you needed at this moment.

        "The elements in this world responded to your prayers and Paimon thinks that's a lovely sign." She finished, her gaze reaching behind you as some Slimes approached, eyes wide at the intrusion by the elemental mutants. You followed her gaze, finding the flaming creatures to be bouncing right in your direction, your surprise evident on your face.

        "Ah, shit." You grumbled, taking a few steps back, your arm starting to stir up with energy. It felt like when you drank too much coffee, to the point where even your limbs were vibrating, wisps of turquoise enveloping your palm on instinct. The small slime soon was sucked into the vortex you had made, swirling around before getting blasted away, back onto the land- over the lake and away from you.

        "Ugh, gross." You winced, noticing the slime that coated the land in front of you, and your dominant hand. Wiping your hand, you decided it was best to swim to the other side of the lake, following Paimon as you escaped the burning grasses. You could only laugh as she huffed about wanting "cool fighting powers" as well, reaching the end of the lake and making your way further in.

        "You know, it may not be a blessing. Usually powers like these have consequences..." You said, wringing out your hair as the wind started to pick up, but this time it wasn’t by your own hand.

        "You shouldn't say that! These powers are a blessing from the Archons and for that you should be grateful! They'd never allow anything bad to happen to the people they've blessed with their own two hands." A low rumble started to echo through the area, making you turn your body and look around for what was causing it as you continued your talk with Paimon.

        "I get that... but still, usually the Gods and whatever powerful beings there are have some type of plan along with it- at least that's how it worked in my world."

        "Then maybe you should consider our world works differently?" She quips her head.

        "A god is a god." You huffed, the rumbling becoming louder before a dragon caught your vision, making you gasp in awe. Six wings, four limbs, a large tail, and decorated in patterns of blues that made it almost blend with the sky if its wings didn't hold an ethereal glow, a white underbelly contrasted with the rest of its body.

        "Wow! What is that? There's something huge in the sky!"

        "You guys have dragons here?" You exclaimed, walking in its direction to where it flew, making sure to lower your output of noise due to the camps that were littered nearby with humanoid creatures.

        "It's heading to the heart of the forest, where we're going, so make sure to be careful." Paimon notes, keeping up with your pace as you jogged into the forest, collected some things along the way that could help in the future. By the time you had reached the forest, you slowed your pace to a comfortable walk, looking around and making sure not to run into anything aggressive- or the dragon you two had just seen.

        Maybe it continued flying anyways?

        "Huh? Look at that." Paimon pointed in front of the both of you, the grumbling appearing once again.

        You were wrong.

        Moving to hide behind one of the larger trees, you pressed your back against it before slowly turning your head to look at the scene in front of you, still making sure to keep your noise at the bare minimum. The dragon from before was standing before you, almost cautious of the person that stood before them, a short man dressed in turquoise and white, holding his hands outward to the dragon before him.

        "Don't be afraid. It's alright now, I'm back." He spoke gently, ignoring the dangerous growls coming from the beast in front of him. It made you worry at the sight and activate the mask that was embedded into your earpiece, still watching as Paimon spoke up.

        "Is he talking... to a dragon?" She questioned, right as your palms lit up with the Anemo power you had just gained, a glowing pattern forming as it burst with life, alerting the dragon and scaring it away with a scream of displeasure. 

        "Who's there?" The man questioned as he jumped back, his gaze in your direction before taking a few steps back, disappearing in a glow of light. Your hair felt like it was about to be yanked out as the dragon flapped its wings before taking off, leaving you dazed at what had just happened, and headache from the harsh tug. You stood there in shock for a bit, not saying anything as your hand buzzed and fizzled out, focusing on calming down your heart rate- deactivating your mask to breathe better as well.

        "That was close! Paimon almost got blown away!" Your guide yelped. "Luckily Paimon managed to grab a hold of your hair! Thanks." She smiled, handed over her heart, and you felt your energy drain immensely in the moment.

        "Good thing you didn't pull my hair out." You sighed, rubbing the aching spot to soothe your head as Paimon continued to speak, you following closely behind.

        "This definitely has something to do with that weirdo who was talking to the dragon..." She trailed off.

        "Is... that normal? Talking to dragons?" You asked, confusion written on your face, wanting to know if this was a common occurrence in this world.

        "Of course not. But what's that? There's some kind of shiny red thingy on the rock over there." She pointed out. You both walked over to look at the glowing item, her warnings falling on deaf ears as Paimon spoke about never seeing anything like this before, making unable to help in this specific situation. 

        "Let's keep this, just in case." You mumbled, your bare hands picking up the gem(?) with ease before packing it into your belt, tucked away safely and unable to escape.

        "Good idea, now let's get out of here." 

        "Agreed." You nodded, deciding to stroll through the forest for a bit, both to rest and catch up on your thoughts, maybe ask Paimon more about this world and how it worked- so you don't seem like a bumbling idiot to the locals. But before you could do any of that, a yell came from behind you, rushed footsteps following at the same time.

        "You there! Stop right there!" A girl yelled, jumping across your field of vision off the small pass, dressed in red and white with long brown hair, rolling as she hit the ground before coming back up to a stand. 

        "..."

        "Are you fucking kidding me?"

[megalony]

Family of six- Part 4

I’ve finally managed to finish the next part of this Murderer! Ben Hardy series so I hope you will all enjoy it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan​​ @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​​ @vousmemanqueez​​ @jonesyaddiction​​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​​ @saint-hardy​​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex​​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​ @crazylittlethingg​​ @allauraleigh​​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​​

Series taglist: @writeroutoftime​​

Series masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have a son together and are pregnant again but things take a worrisome turn when (Y/n) develops severe morning sickness and they find out they’re having triplets.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When can we go see mummy?" Billy's voice was quiet and tired but there was curiosity in his words. The five-year-old looked up at Ben with tired eyes that had been staring at the same walls for the past two hours now. Every person that walked past them was a source of interest for Billy because he could think up a story for them and a name like they were characters in a movie he was watching to cure his boredness.

"We'll get to see her soon buddy, she's just with the doctor right now."

Ben rested his chin on top of Billy's head as he tightened his arms around his boy who was perched on his lap leaning back into Ben in a way that showed he was growing tired. For the first half an hour Billy had been silent but content sitting on Ben's lap wrapped up in a comforting hug but then the longer they waited the more uneasy Billy seemed to feel. He wanted to go see (Y/n) and see if she was better and the waiting made him anxious much like it seemed to do to Ben.

To a certain extent Ben didn't mind the waiting, it felt better to wait a long time because it meant that (Y/n) was being treated and checked over. But then again, the longer Ben waited the more it made him suspicious that something had gone wrong for it to be taking this long to get her settled and in a stable condition. Ben didn't want Billy to be here waiting and panicking with him but Ben couldn't take him home in case the doctor came out to talk to him. As soon as the doctor had talked to Ben he would let Billy see her and then take him home.

Ben still had to ring his parents and tell them what was happening, even though they lived almost an hour away he knew that he and (Y/n) would need some help and they were the closest people to help that Ben could think of. (Y/n)'s parents were close by but they weren't on speaking terms with (Y/n) since the moment she got engaged to Ben so he couldn't call them.

This situation was going to go one of two ways, either (Y/n) had suffered a miscarriage and Ben would definitely need his parents around so he could look after (Y/n) and help her cope. Or if they hadn't lost this pregnancy they were going to need a lot more help considering they were only four months along and something like this had happened so early on.

"Is mummy gonna get better?" Billy leaned a bit further into Ben's chest but he wouldn't look up at Ben, a sure sign he was uncomfortable with the topic and was afraid of the answer he was going to receive. He simply looked down at Ben's hand and started slowly drawing patterns on the back of his hand, tracing the pad of his finger over the tattoos on Ben's knuckles. It was fascinating to Billy to look at all of Ben's tattoos but it did sometimes confuse him. Ben had so many different tattoos covering his skin but then Billy would see other people and his friend's parents and wonder why they didn't have half as many as Ben did.

"Course she is, that's why the doctor's looking after her."

"You said when mummy's ill you look after her."

Ben tipped his head back against the wall and rubbed at his eyes for a moment to try and relieve the headache he could feel forming behind his eyes. He didn't like how anxious he could see Billy becoming and he hated that he couldn't do anything about it until he had managed to speak to a doctor.

"Buddy, I'll always look after your mum but when she's sick like this a doctor needs to look after her and give her medicine which I can't do-"

"You give mummy medicine! You give her her tablets, why can't you look after mummy?"

"Baby calm down." Ben hooked his hands under Billy's arms and gently lifted him up so he could turn him around on his lap, wanting his son facing him. He could see the panic building up in Billy's eyes and the desperation creeping in the tone of his voice.

Billy associated hospitals with death and danger and it was somewhere that made him feel unsafe and uncomfortable. When he had a chest infection last year and had to have fluids drained from his lungs it hadn't been a good experience for him considering he had only been four at the time. And he knew Ben had had family go to hospital and never come out again. He didn't want (Y/n) to be here because it seemed like a bad sign to Billy, he didn't quite understand that people went to hospital even when they had only small or minor problems.

Whenever Billy was sick or ill (Y/n) and Ben looked after him and whenever (Y/n) was ill or upset or had any kind of problem, Billy knew Ben always tried to do something to help. He looked after her and calmed her down, Billy wanted Ben to look after (Y/n) and no one else.

"I do give your mum medicine, I sort her tablets out and I look after her, but I don't make those tablets or tell her which ones she needs and maybe she needs some new tablets for now which is why she needs to see the doctor. But when she's better and comes home I'll be the one looking after her I swear. She's gonna be fine baby, you don't have to worry."

Ben rested his chin on Billy's temple and sighed when he felt his boy burrow into his chest like he was trying to curl up and disappear. He hoped his words were enough to calm Billy down because there wasn't much else that Ben could say or do to try and make him feel more at ease and settled right now. He wanted to be able to tell Billy that (Y/n) was going to be perfectly fine and that she could go home soon but he doubted (Y/n) would be going home for a few days at least and he knew she wasn't going to be fine for a few days or even weeks.

But for now he could only tell Billy that (Y/n) was getting the help she needed and it was going to make her better in time.

A few minutes of silence passed between the father and son before Ben looked to the left and instantly recognised the doctor walking towards them as being the one who was now treating (Y/n).

"Buddy, why don't you play a game on my phone for a minute so I can go talk to your mum's doctor?"

Billy looked up at Ben with wide eyes but nodded in agreement all the same, he let Ben pick him up and move him onto the seat next to him before he got his phone out of his pocket. Ben had two phones, one for work and one for personal use which he always let Billy use to play games on. There was no way that Ben could let Billy use his work phone in case he saw something he shouldn't or it rang and Billy tried to answer it. He didn't know what Ben did specifically at the club and Ben wanted to keep it that way.

Getting to his feet, Ben walked a few paces away from the waiting area and over to the doctor who had a warm smile on his face but it didn't make Ben feel any more at ease.

"Mr Hardy?"

"Yeah, is my wife okay?" Ben slipped his hands into his back pockets to stop himself from clenching his hands into fists out of nervousness. He needed to feel like he was in control of every situation or else he didn't know what to do and right now there was nothing about this situation that Ben could control and help with.

"She's awake now. We've put your wife on an IV drip due to how dehydrated she was when you brought her in and she has anti-emetics going straight into her bloodstream so that it actually stays in her system."

With (Y/n) not being able to keep anything down it was the only and easiest option to just have the fluids go straight into her bloodstream along with the medication that will ease her constant sickness feeling. She won't keep throwing up or gagging or generally feeling sick with the anti-emetics and with them going straight into her blood rather than her stomach it meant they could get through her system and work without being thrown up. That was a big relief to Ben to know that (Y/n) could finally have the medication and have it work for once.

"What about the pregnancy?" Ben wasn't stupid, he knew that with the state (Y/n) was in she could have easily miscarried with how dehydrated she was when he found her earlier and if he didn't get to her sooner (Y/n) herself could have become a lot worse off.

"The pregnancy doesn't seem to have been affected. Your wife will be monitored for the next week or two as she is still at risk of miscarrying but with her now having fluids and proteins straight into her system there shouldn't be any problems with the babies."

Ben nodded before he tipped his head down to look at the floor, needing a moment to gather himself and his thoughts. It had crossed his mind more than once about what he would do or say if they lost this pregnancy. Triplets wasn't what they had been expecting or what they initially wanted in the beginning. But they still wanted to have kids and neither Ben nor (Y/n) wanted to lose any of the three new lives they had created.

"We need to keep her in for observation for at least a week so we can get her fluid levels up and get your wife to start eating and monitor the pregnancy and she may need to stay for longer, depending on how quickly she recovers."

"Can I go see her now?"

"Of course."

Ben needed no more than that to make him turn on his heels and head over to where Billy was at contently playing a game on his phone. He scooped Billy up into his arms, letting him continue playing the level of the game he was focusing on.

"Alright buddy, we're off to see your mum now and then I'm gonna take you home, sound good?" He settled Billy on his hip, taking his phone back the moment Billy handed it over, no longer interested in the phone now he knew he could go and see (Y/n). The waiting hadn't been too bad for Billy, he was easily content by looking at his surroundings, his mind had the ability to run away with him and he could sit with his thoughts. But it was the worry of not knowing if (Y/n) was okay that had been hard on Billy.

Ben knew his son had been unsettled and shocked by seeing (Y/n) in such a state. He was very close to (Y/n) so finding her in the bathroom like that and having to see her so ill was frightening for the five year old and it hurt Ben to see his son be so distressed like he had been today.

Neither of them knew what to expect when they entered (Y/n)'s hospital room, although Ben had been told (Y/n) was awake part of him expected her to be asleep or half conscious like she had been earlier.

Ben rubbed his hand up and down Billy's back as they both looked over at (Y/n) the moment they entered the room. (Y/n) still looked as pale as she had done when Ben found her earlier in the bathroom. She could barely keep her eyes open but as he got closer Ben realised that her lips weren't chapped or pale in colour anymore and she didn't have a cold sweat anymore. It was surprising to Ben that (Y/n) was awake right now when she had only been barely lucid earlier and it surprised him even more that she hadn't miscarried. As much as he was relieved and overjoyed that (Y/n) was still pregnant, it was surprising because of how dehydrated she was and how little she had eaten.

There was a drip taped to her left hand and one taped into a vein in her right arm which Ben knew were both for the fluids she needed and the anti-emetics, both of which would be going straight into her bloodstream. There was a monitor checking her heart rate which was thankfully silent at the moment so there was no background noise to focus on.

"Mummy!" Billy started to wriggle in Ben's arms, feeling a desperate urge to scramble over to (Y/n). It had been little over two hours since he had last seen her but Billy was yearning to burrow into (Y/n)'s arms and reassure himself that she was okay.

"Hey baby." (Y/n)'s voice was scratchy and very quiet but the tired smile on her lips was enough to calm Billy right down and make him almost jump out of Ben's arms and onto the bed. He crawled his way up the bed until he was level with (Y/n) and flung his arms around her neck, burrowing into her side when he felt her arms cocooning around him like a safety blanket.

"Buddy be careful with your mum, mind the wires."

Ben leaned over the pair of them so that he could help Billy move under the drips rather than laying on them like he was so that he didn't constrict the fluids (Y/n) needed. When he was sure that Billy wasn't laying on any wires or tubes, Ben sat down in the seat next to the bed.

He could feel his heart beating just that little bit faster in his chest at the sight in front of him. It was normal for Ben to find Billy curled up next to (Y/n) o the sofa or in bed, as much as he loved following Ben around like a lost puppy, he was always attaching himself to (Y/n). But it made something inside of Ben churn to see Billy curled up against (Y/n) when she looked as ill as she did and when she was laid in a hospital bed. It was like Ben was looking at a familiar photo but the background was different or something was missing and it was making him feel uneasy.

"You better now mummy?" Billy tilted his head up so his chin was perched on (Y/n)'s shoulder and the way he looked up at her with puppy dog eyes made her heart melt in her chest. It was as if he was willing for her to be better so they could all go home when deep down he knew (Y/n) wasn't going to be coming home tonight.

"I feel a bit better now baby, but I can't come home just yet." (Y/n) slowly started to card her finger through Billy's hair to try and calm him down when he frowned and looked like he was about to cry.

"Why? Daddy said he can look after you-"

"Buddy don't start that again, please. You know your mum has to stay here and get better before she comes home. The doctor will look after your mum and I'll look after you."

Ben didn't want to go through this again, he knew Billy was just desperate for them all to go back home where he felt safer and more at ease but right now that just couldn't happen. Ben couldn't make (Y/n) better by magic and neither could the doctors and if she went home right now all that would happen would be a repeat of today. (Y/n) wouldn't eat because she wouldn't have the medicine going straight into her vein and she would lose fluids. It was very clear that if she lost anymore fluids they were in danger of losing her and not just the babies.

"What about baby, is baby okay?" Billy still looked unsure and rather deflated at the news that (Y/n) wasn't coming home with them yet but he was clearly trying his best to stay positive. He slowly moved his hand and looked down to (Y/n)'s small bump that he started to rub like he was soothing the baby and making sure they were okay.

Neither (Y/n) nor Ben had the heart or the courage to tell Billy just yet that it wasn't just one baby. They both knew that the news of three new siblings all at once wasn't going to be exactly what he wanted to hear. The five year old did want siblings but he also liked being an only child because he got the attention he wanted from both his parents. Three new babies in the house was going to steal the attention he had so far and it wouldn't be as fun as he thought having a sibling would be.

"Yeah, the baby's okay."

"Can you play a game on my phone again for a minute buddy just so I can talk to your mum before we go home?"

When Billy nodded, Ben fished his personal phone out from his pocket and handed it to Billy when the five year old sat up on the bed. He planted a loud kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek before he slowly scrambled off the bed and sat down on the chair next to the door to give his parents some space to talk.

"I left you for one morning and I end up getting Billy calling me cause you collapsed in the bathroom. Why didn't you tell me how bad you were?"

Ben watched the way (Y/n)'s eyes flicked down to look at her hands which were resting on her stomach so she didn't have to look at Ben's burning gaze. She knew he wasn't telling her off or angry with her but she knew that he was uneasy about this. Billy had to call him and tell him to come home and that was something that had never happened before and that Ben didn't even consider would happen. If (Y/n) just told him how badly she felt in the morning he would have stayed and could have been there when she collapsed instead of her being home alone with Billy.

"Billy called you? I was gonna ring you but everything just seemed to blur and switch off... how badly did I scare him?"

A sigh escaped Ben's lips when he saw the tears forming in (Y/n)'s eyes at the thought of scaring Billy like that. He tangled his hand with hers but moved his other hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head, knotting his fingers into her hair as he leaned to kiss her temple.

(Y/n) didn't remember much about this morning, she knew that suddenly she felt like her insides were churning and as if her stomach was shrivelling up into nothing. When she collapsed in the bathroom everything else seemed to blur together into a mush of voices and movements. She remembered Ben's voice and being in the car but the timeline was skewed, all (Y/n) knew was that Ben had brought her to hospital. Being told that Billy actually had to call Ben made (Y/n)'s heart break in her chest and she knew how badly hospitals upset Billy.

"He didn't understand, he thought you were asleep and asked me to come look after you but he was scared. You were badly dehydrated doll and I can't have you getting that bad again or I'm risking losing you, not just them." Ben's eyes darted down to (Y/n)'s stomach where he moved their entwined hands to brush over her skin.

The thought of losing (Y/n) scared Ben and there was very little that scared him. His family being at any sort of risk was the only thing that could make Ben panic and he wouldn't know what to do if he lost (Y/n), nor did he really know what they would do if they lost this pregnancy. He wouldn't know how to help (Y/n) or what to say or even how she would react to something like that and Ben didn't want to know. He wanted (Y/n) to be safe and okay and for their three babies to be okay.

"The doctor said the medication will start working now and I'm under observation for the next week or two."

"It'll work because it's finally getting into your system for once so hopefully you'll actually be able to eat and drink something. I don't wanna leave you doll because you're still in a bad way but I need to get him back home. I'll get everything covered at the club and bring Billy back tomorrow after preschool, okay?"

Ben didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay and reassure himself that the medication and fluids were working in making (Y/n) better and stopping her state from deteriorating any more than this. But he also needed to get Billy back home for something to eat and to settle him down since he had had a distressing day. He would bring Billy back tomorrow to reassure him that (Y/n) was still okay and getting better and so he could see (Y/n) himself. Ben didn't exactly like the thought of going home and not having (Y/n) there, he hated not having her at home it was always like something was wrong or missing and he couldn't fix it.

But at the same time, Ben knew that Billy would most likely be crawling into bed with him tonight.

When (Y/n) nodded, Ben managed a small smile before he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. He knew when he first found (Y/n) in the bathroom earlier her lips had been chapped and dry from dehydration but he was relieved now to feel that her lips weren't dry or chapped.

"Okay, come on buddy say goodbye to your mum so I can get you home."

Ben tried to bite back his smile when (Y/n) buried her face into his neck, breathing in his scent which made a shiver run down his spine at the feeling of her breaths against his neck. She didn't want him to go, sleeping without Ben was extremely hard even with how tired and drowsy she felt right now. But he had to go and take Billy home and she knew her boys would be coming back to see her in the afternoon.

"We'll be back tomorrow, doll."

[irwinkitten]

got lucky | c.h

requested by anon: ok so for the bi!reader concept: last year i ended my relationship w this girl the main reason was because she was really insecure and jealous especially about me being bisexual like anytime i would talk to a guy she would just get so upset about it and she would make such gross biphobic comments and at the time i had so much internalised biphobia that i tried to convince myself i was gay n stayed in the relationship longer than i should have because i rly liked her i guess lol anyways (1/4) we ended and a while afterwards i started seeing this guy who i’d known of for ages (friends of friends type situation) but we just never really talked before or hung out but from the first date we clicked and the sex was crazy good like the type of sex were ur ditching ur vibrators cuz he’s that good lmao so one weekend we went to this party together and of course she is also there, i was so surprised and i could see her eyeing us the whole night, so when she came over i was anxious af (2/4) and this guy knew i was bi! it was no secret, i worked really hard to accept myself! so she comes over and she deadass goes “are you straight now? i knew you would end up with a man!” and she’s all smug but also hurt and im standing there like what the fuck and THEN this dumb man goes “ha guess the sex is so good i made her straight again” and i’m literally about to cry over how gross the whole interaction is and im so shocked i can’t even defend myself, i dumped him that night obviously (3/) last messgae: so basically can you pls do a redo of the gross situation where instead of being with that dumb guy its with calum and he is so protective n sweet n NORMAL n encourages u to stand up for urself about bisexuality / your sexuality, because what happened to me happens too often and its disgusting and gross and no one deserves that!! only if u feel comfortable/inspired tho, no pressure!! love u laura, thank u for creating such a safe space for all the queer babies it means a lot 💘 notes: i kinda enjoyed writing this one esp for my sweet anon baby. i love u and i hope this is everything you wanted ♥  warnings: biphobia, implications of emotional abuse

word count: 3.2k

donate to my ko-fi here

-

“Hey what’cha doing sweets?” Calum’s voice pulled you from your musings, your hand idly tracing patterns against the paper but the pen remaining on the desk. You wrenched your thoughts from the spiral you seemed to have fallen down, a smile crossing your lips as you felt your heart flutter at the sight of him.

“Nothin’. Just thinking.” You finally replied as he pulled up one of the spare chairs next to you, the bustling activity of the coffee shop falling into your background noise as his thigh pressed against yours.

“Really? Normally you doodle when you’re just thinking.” He countered with ease and your eyes dropped to the paper, noticing that the pen remained where you’d placed it when you first sat down. Subconsciously you must’ve realised that the route your thoughts had gone were not suitable to put down on paper, your fingers picking up the pen and mind falling blank immediately.

“Oh.” You breathed before placing the pen back down and packing away the pad and pen.

“What’s running through your head, doll?” Calum’s voice was quiet and concerned, you shrugged.

“Just, a lot on my mind is all. You’re not my keeper just because we’ve slept together.” You admitted quietly and he frowned before picking up his bag and for a sinking second you thought he was going to walk off, but instead, he took your bag from your hands and slung it over his shoulder. 

He looked back at you expectantly and you sighed before standing up, leaving the coffee shop with him, your eyes on the floor as you fell into step next to him.

“Your place or mine?”

“E’s gonna be home and I don’t want to hear them rant about me bringing people back.” You muttered and Calum nodded. 

“I think Ash is out. He’ll probably head out to Luke’s if I show up with you.” At his smirk, you rolled your eyes fondly before shoving him towards the bus stop. His indignant “hey!” was only ignored as you two waited for the bus, his arm slung over your shoulders.

Selfishly, you leaned into his touch, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach was doing flips at his touch alone. 

The bus journey was a quiet ten minutes, but Calum seemed to understand that you weren’t willing to talk with so many people around, so he was content to just keep you close, and you were unwilling to pull away until his stop came up.

When you reached his shared house with Ashton, you noted that the car was gone from the driveway and Calum smirked.

“Looks like he’s out. C’mon.” His hand tucked around yours and pulled you inside. And for a second you wondered if you could distract him with sex, but then the guilt appeared and you could feel the tears of frustration appear as your thoughts swirled and you felt dizzy.

Calum had stepped ahead, turning to see you stood leaning against the closed door, head in your hands and he knew something was wrong. Stepping back to you, he dropped your bags and took your hand in his, pulling you upstairs to his room and your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Cal I-”

“I’m not suggesting that.” He muttered. You fell silent at that and as he pulled you into his room, you felt unsure, but he gave you no chance to really deny him as he crawled into bed before opening his arms out to you.

“Cal.”

“I know you. You don’t do emotional stuff well but I’m here for a cuddle and an ear if you need it.” You fell into the embrace easily, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his lips finding your temple as you finally felt something in you snap, the surge of emotions overwhelming and frighteningly vivid. 

“I keep telling myself that I never was a lesbian, that I still found men attractive but Poppy made me feel like having that attraction was stupid since I was dating her and that I was a lesbian and it’s so fucking confusing because I like you, but I can hear her voice screeching that I’m not right, that I’m a lesbian or faking it or a freak.” And for the first time since you left Poppy, you cried.

Calum had been waiting for this. When the split had happened, you’d been ready for it, you’d already left her mentally, but this was what he knew you needed. He knew that the relationship with her had been toxic, but you’d never revealed the extent of her behaviour. 

His heart broke.

“Just because you like both men and women does not mean you should feel so guilty over your sexuality. There’s a B in LGBT for a reason, doll. That’s you. You’re bisexual and you should be proud of that, not ashamed because some bitch with a control issue couldn’t handle the fact that you liked more than women.” 

You found yourself gripping his shirt with your fists as you pressed your face into his chest, trying to stem the tears that seemed relentless. But Calum held his silence whilst you got it out of your system, knowing that you needed to get this off your chest. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally got out, but he simply shushed you. 

“She was a shitty person with an attitude to show. You shouldn’t apologise for the bitch.” His words were simple but it gave you a breath of ease, pulling away as hands rubbed your shoulders gently. 

He was definitely too good to you, but he was there for you regardless and you were certain that you loved him for that.

“There’s gonna be a party on the other side of town in a couple of weeks. Ash took over the old Firefly down on Hartley. He’s revamping before opening the bar to the public. You fancy going?” And you smiled at the gentle distraction he was offering. 

“We get at least a free drink if we show up, right?” And Calum laughed as he kissed your temple. 

“He wouldn’t say no to me. Or you. In fact, I’m almost certain he’s expecting me to do full introductions on that night since Luke and Mike will be there with the others and their girls.” You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s not like I went to school with Luke or anything.” Came your sarcastic retort and Calum laughed as the two of you settled for the evening. 

“Pretty sure Luke last saw you when you started dating Poppy. He’s put two and two together but he won’t say anything unless you mention it. Even then he knows it’s not his place.” Your heart seemed to swell another size in affection for Luke. 

“You’re making it difficult for me to not fall in love with you Cal. Good dick, you know how to use those lips and fingers of yours, you make me feel like I belong and you respect boundaries without me having to ask.” You finally muttered and Calum gave you an almost wistful smile. 

“You may have been with Poppy but that didn’t stop me from being friends with you. You’re someone I’ve genuinely cared about from day one. Not gonna chuck that away because of who you are. Plus growing up with my mom and sister almost made certain I’d be in touch with my feminine side.” He teased but the sincerity and understanding in his tone eased your shoulders. 

Your features softened at the admittance and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Then I definitely got lucky to have you in my life at least, falling in love or not.”

—

When the day of the party rolled around, you felt sick with nerves and you couldn’t understand why. 

When Calum rolled up to pick you up—he was driving to Luke’s who lived closest to the bar and you’d both get a ride back to yours before he picked up his car the following morning—he could see the nerves and the grimace on his face spoke volumes. 

“What?” You all but demanded when you were debating outfits. He’d been sitting on the bed watching, but got up and held his hands out to you. 

You took them hesitantly. His thumbs almost immediately started to soothe across the back of your hands to help relax you. 

“Word has gotten around that Poppy is planning to show up. We haven’t exactly been quiet about our relationship, but I didn’t think she’d pull something like this.” And your stomach churned uncomfortably. 

“We’re still going. Ashton promised free drinks and we’ll be in the VIP area right?” You checked and Calum nodded.

“Ashton has already told the bouncers that she’s not allowed near the VIP section. They’re checking and rechecking the lists to make sure she isn’t on one of them.” He explained and you let out a breath of air. 

“Okay. It’ll be fine. It’s being handled and I’ve got you. Now which outfit do you think I should wear?” He studied your face for a second before a smile broke across his lips. 

“The dark purple with the deep plunge. Is it wrong of me to flaunt in her face what she lost?” And you laughed as you kissed him. 

“I mean, yes. But I also know that you want to show me off properly now that we’ve got things really settled.” You murmured and he grinned back unabashedly. 

It was still an uphill battle, but he’d given you a lot to think about. And after gentle convincing, you’d found an LGBT friendly therapist who helped you process your thoughts. It helped you come to terms with accepting the toxic relationship that you’d been in but also it highlighted how beneficial Calum had been as a friend and confidant. 

It also gave you the courage to ask Calum out officially, wanting to be with him entirely and not just in the evenings. 

He took that in his stride and things shifted once more between the two of you. When you opened up to him about some of your sessions, you knew that your trust had been well placed because he never indicated anything to his friends and so you were never subjected to pitying stares or glares. 

You were almost sure that you’d fall in love with him faster than you fell for Poppy. 

The drive to Luke’s was filled with your nerves. You hadn’t seen Luke in years and you were also meeting his two other friends, Ashton and Michael as well as their partners. 

“Ashton’s excited to finally meet you and stop telling me to be careful when I go to yours.” 

Despite Calum living with Ashton, your schedules never seemed to match and more often than not, Calum could be found at your place, a small sanctuary from your hectic lives. 

Ashton never begrudged that time you shared together, but Calum had mentioned a few times about how snappy he was being on the subject. 

“He’ll chill when he realises I’m not out to break your heart or steal something.” You muttered with a chuckle. Calum snorted in return as he pulled into Luke’s driveway. 

Your nerves return full force as he pulls you to the front door and steps in like he lives there. 

“Hey fuckers, anyone about?” He called through and was met with calls of confirmation, another yell following that they were in the dining room. Your fingers squeezed Calum’s tightly and he didn’t hesitate to return it, his thumb soothing across the skin on the back of your hand.

“Look who it is!” A voice crowed loudly as he stepped into the dining room, followed by loud calls of greetings. 

There was a flurry of introductions and you felt like the spotlight was being shone on you, under scrutiny from his best friends gazes once they had greeted their friend and Calum had introduced you. Or re-introduced you in Luke’s case.

“Well c’mon, the last time I saw you we were leaving school. What’s been happening to you?” Luke finally asked, indicating to the seat next to him. A small smile graced your lips as you sat down, Calum falling into the seat next to you as you shrugged. 

“Life I guess? It’s been definitely more interesting with the different jobs and moving about. Building up a social life again.” Luke’s face filled with a frown at that. 

Michael came in next. 

“Building up a social life? Did you not have one?” His words held an innocent curiosity, yet you felt yourself hesitate. 

“My ex was controlling to the point that I couldn’t do anything without their permission. They managed to make me believe that no one really wanted me around and I lost touch with old friends, like Luke.” You glanced to the side and he was frowning. 

The others held varying degrees of stunned shock or disapproval. 

“Well then he was a cunt.” Michael muttered and your eyes refused to meet theirs at the assumptions. Luke stayed quiet but his hand rested on your knee, squeezing it. You shot him a gentle smile in return.

“Well it’ll be good to have you back in our lives. Especially with these two knuckleheads.” He nodded at Ashton and Michael who immediately protested and you laughed. 

It felt like you’d known them for years as you all had a few shots. Ashton, despite being the owner of the bar, wasn’t worried about turning up with his friends. He’d already explained to his staff that he’d be around for the rest of the night once he arrived and he’d told the small groups he’d be here and there. 

After a handful of shots, the group of you made your way to the bar, your arm linked with Calum’s. There were separate conversations happening between you all, their girlfriends including you on their pamper night whilst the boys discussed a possible games night for all of you. 

When you arrived at the club, you saw the queue of people waiting to get in and the subsequent groans from the line as the bouncer let you in, no questions asked. 

Ashton guided the group of you to the VIP section and the music was still loud but you could still hear each other talking. You were chatting away with Luke’s girlfriend, arm still linked with Calum’s as Ashton disappeared to get drinks. 

Calum pulled your attention away briefly, his lips by your ear. 

“I’ve spotted her. She’s not seen us yet so don’t worry.” You barely nodded, acknowledging his words as you listened in, fighting to keep your nerves down. 

The night continued and you were all a few drinks deep. Calum’s arm had barely left your waist all night as you talked and danced and drank. You’d been welcomed into his group of friends with an ease you never realised existed. 

You’d deliberately not tried to seek out Poppy, silently praying that the universe would comply. But as the group of you stood out in the smokers area, huddled together under a heating lamp, your stomach sank as she stepped out, her eyes narrowing on you. 

“Fuckin’ knew it!” You could feel the alarm in your face as you stepped back into Calum, his arm going around you protectively. 

“Poppy, you’re drunk.” You felt curious gazes from your new friends, but you didn’t spare them a glance.

“You break up with me and go running to his arms, I knew you weren’t a fuckin lesbian. Pretending to try it out? Just another straight girl seeking attention. Fucking freak.” She snapped and your stomach sank. 

“Get it through your thick head that she’s bisexual.” Calum snapped in your defence, earning a glare from Poppy. But Calum didn’t shrink from the glare, your glance to his face confirmed he was giving her his own. You were mildly impressed that she didn’t back down instantly. 

“She’s a fuckin liar! Years of my life wasted on this bitch.” She spat at your feet and you took in a deep breath. 

“You don’t get to control me anymore, Poppy. I’ve liked both men and women, but you never liked that because it meant that I had more chances of leaving you. And I wished I’d have left you sooner. Calum certainly thought so.” 

“Of course you fucked the first man to pay you any attention.” Your heart sank once more at her declaration and you felt your mind fall into the old trap that you’d fought with for so long. 

“No she never. In fact she slept with a few girls long before she slept with me. But I was her best friend as she tried to deal with the mess you created in her mind.” Calum snapped back. You felt your heart swell for him. 

Poppy stepped forward, her hand raised but then Ashton stepped in front of you. 

“Get out. You’re no longer welcome in this bar.” He made a gesture and security slowly made their way over. 

“She shouldn’t be fucking welcome!” Poppy yelled back, but Ashton held firm. 

“She is my friend. You are not. Get. Out.” When the bouncer rested a hand on her arm, she shrugged it off and stormed away. Your entire body was trembling.

“So that was the ex, huh?” Michael commented and you could feel your hands trembling as you nodded. “Why didn’t you correct me?” Calum spoke up for you as his hands took yours. 

“It’s been a battle for her. Poppy had convinced her she was a lesbian, that she was wrong for having any attraction to men. In Poppy’s world, either your gay, lesbian or straight. Being bisexual isn’t acceptable in her eyes.” Calum’s arms wrapped around you and you stood there, holding onto him for dear life. 

“Well that makes two of us then.” Michael’s casual comment had your knees go weak and you let out a weak laugh. 

“Thank you Ash.” You finally murmured when you pulled away from Calum. Ashton didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you in a warm hug that was both comforting and reassuring. 

“Hey, you’ve been the best thing for my best mate. And you were friends with Luke once before. I’ve definitely got your back. And I get why you didn’t say anything and don’t hold that against you.” He muttered and you breathed a sigh of relief before returning to Calum’s embrace. 

“More drinks or are we gonna go back to Luke’s?” And you shook your head. 

“Let’s stay. I’m not gonna let her ruin it,” you leaned forwards so your lips were by his ear as the others went inside, “also I want to see if we can christen the bar in one of the toilets.” You breathed. Calum groaned as his grip around you got tighter and he pulled you in for a kiss that promised more. 

“Oh you’re so fucked sweetheart. Especially since I know where the individual lips are and they aren’t attended by anyone.” You held back a moan at that thought before pulling away, your hand in his. 

“Dance first?” And the innocence in your tone made him laugh as he followed behind you willingly. 

“Menace.” The term was laced with affection as he caught up to you, kissing the spot just below your ear. 

You simply grinned in return as you pulled him onto the dance floor, Poppy long forgotten as he danced with you. 

-

@sexgodashton, @goth5sos, @calumsmermaid, @empathycth, @wildflowergrae, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @cal-puddies, @clockwork124, @loveroflrh, @stellar5sosrecs, @ashtoniwir, @cthla, @liketheydidwithyou, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer​, @bluehairedtracii, @drummerboy794, @feliznavidaddycal, @i-calumhood, @wokeupinjapanisabop, @converse-luke, @madbomb, @ccnicole02, @youngblood199456, @aulxna, @megz1985, @lukesidentitycrisis, @snapback-irwie, @neonweeknds, @666yourwitchyfriend666, @gamerboymike, @cashtonasfuck, @ashtaway, @conquerwhatliesahead92, @itjustkindahappenedreally, @twoamhood, @kchillout, @damselindistressanu, @colormekaykay, @findingliam-o, @sublimehood, @sugarcoated-pain, @singt0mecalum, @singledadharrington​, @calumspeachy​, @colourfulcalum​, @lostincalum​, @burncrashbromance​, @asht0ns-world​, @a-mnd, @flusteredcliffo​, @loti18​, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​, @clumclum-hood​, @fangirl-everythang​, @lashtondaddies​, @calumssunshine​, @ambskiwi​, @abundant-stars​, @caltattoohood, @seedless-vascular, @myescapefromthislife​, @lmao5sosimagines​, @beyoncesdragon​, @jae-writes-fanfiction​, @cxddlyash​, @tresfandom​, @utterly-u-n-p-e-r-f-e-c-t​, @niallisworld​, @lietomevalntyn​, @babylon-corgis​, @monochrome44​, @behind-my-hazeleyes27​, @ghost0fy0u​, @lyllibug​, @bloodmoonashton​, @balsamic-cal, @calumsbaldhead​, @washedout-ky, @calumssunshinee​, @ghostofmashton​, @summerellaz​, @a-little-less-sixteen​, @cashworthy​, @smokeinherlungs​, @longlastingdaydream​, @h0tsos​, @sweetcherrymike​, @5sosnsfw​, @sugar-nico​, @sunnysideblog, @angel-cal​, @samros95​, @maluminspace​, @lukeinblue​, @cakesunflower​, @allamerican-betch​,  @britnicole11​, @gigglyirwin​, @everyscarisahealingplace, @loverofcashton​, @iovehemmings​, @g-l-pierce​, @jannimoeller3​, @wildmichaelflower​, @lukeskisses​, @5sossstan​, @youngbloodchild​, @alloutofcashton​, @tobefalling​, @abb-lan-5sos​, @calumsbub​, @flameraine​, @here-for-the-uproars​, @mateisit-balsamic​, @ilovelukey​, @sarahshepherdblog​

[doesrevali]

yes hi im here to make a fanfic based off of 'panic room' bc im quirky like that

Pairing: Revalink (Revali x Link)

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, etc.

Summary:

Link has always fought his way through everything. Who says it'll be any different this time?

It's around noon when Link and Zelda are walking to survey damage. The buildings and the fields don't affect Link as much as it does Zelda, who saw it all before with no memory loss.

She's on the verge of tears the whole time, sniffing and walking with her posture stiff. Link has half the mind to say something about it, but he doesn't. He resides to her side, as he used to before the Calamity. He supposes it was an unconscious habit, even if he hadn't had the pleasure of doing it for some time.

Link had stopped paying attention to his surroundings quite a while ago, having seen it before. It was no surprise to him anyway. What's the point in mourning what he's been around for months?

"Goddess, Link. I wonder how you deal with seeing this."

All he does is grunt, not having the heart to tell her that he didn't care.

"Link, didn't you say that you had completed all the shrines?" It's only then that he looks up, mostly in confusion. Why would that be worth asking? He gets his answer only a second later, after following the princess's gaze to that familiar pattern strewn on familiar stone.

He almost curses out loud. Why, why did I always have to deal with this? He catches that thought, and wonders. When had he ever hoped to be done with his job? He doesn't remember that.

Zelda runs over to the stone, hands shaky over where the Shekiah Slate goes. "Link, you wouldn't happen to have-" He gives the slate over to her without a second thought.

"Thank you, although I don't know if it would work for me-"

Link shakes his head, gesturing for her to try it.

Sighing, Zelda hesitates for a moment. She eventually holds it above the terminal, eyes closed and murmuring prayers. When it accepts the slate, her eyes open with the closest thing to genuine glee Link has ever seen from her. "I did it, Link! I did it! I wonder if it's because of my powers... Do you think so? Maybe- Oh, whatever! Let's go, I've only heard stories of what's inside from you and.." Link zones out, not thinking as he steps onto the platform. He wonders if he even has control anymore, watching himself.

Zelda gasps, the feeling of the platform lowering likely surprising her. Link doesn't blame her, distantly remembering the first time he did it. Everything was.. blurry?

When they get down into the shrine, there are two doors. Looking to the sides, there are chests. He walks over to them, grabbing the keys from inside. Going to the door (with Zelda hot on his heels), he tries to open it.

The door doesn't budge, and Link stops for a moment. Zelda hums, grabbing one of the keys from his hands (noticeably sweaty, although she doesn't comment on it. Why were they sweaty anyway?)

"I wonder if we have to open the doors together! Possibly.. Although I wonder how they would work like that, what's the technology behind it? Ah, Link! Stay at that door, and open it when I open that one over there, at the same time! We can see if that works!"

Nodding, Link waits for her to get to the door.

"Three, two, one!"

They both insert the keys, and dull thudding comes only a moment after. Both the doors open, and Link has to stop himself from rushing to the Princess's side, anxious about the harm behind her own door. When Zelda only looks inside, though, he calms down.

"I think we're supposed to enter them.. I'll go inside here, you go there," Link takes a step forward, about to protest, "I'll be fine. You don't worry, I have this scythe. I can handle myself enough. This is for the shrine."

He pauses before nodding. He supposes he's taught her enough moves. Zelda walks inside, and Link feels anxiety bubbling up in his chest. He waits, then walks inside his own door.

Right as both his feet step beyond the doorway, it shuts. He almost yells out, feeling his own voice die quickly in his throat. He doesn't stop himself from banging on it, though, in some hopes that Zelda had escaped and was on the other side.

Not hearing a response, he stills himself and takes a breath. It's fine, he thinks. She's okay. He turns, peering down a corridor. Walking forward, there appears another chest. He kicks it lightly, watching it pop open. A floating green orb wafts out, looking eerily similar to something Link didn't want to remember.

"I suppose I never get a break. Never with you! How many times must I be at your beck and call?"

No.

"No? Tell me, since when have either of us had a choice?"

Link breathes in, willing himself to not think.

"Ignoring me now, I assume. Nothing new."

His body appears, slowly but surely. Something Link wishes never happened. Time stops when Revali fully appears, and it only starts again when Revali waves a hand in front of Link's face.

"I don't remember you being so zoned out.. I suppose you've finally realized that you're talking to the great Revali? About time!"

Link nods absentmindedly, turning his gaze farther along the hallway.

"Ah, yes, we should figure out what this is. I'm not completely sure as to why I'm here, but you wouldn't be able to tell me." The words sound accusing, and Link has to stop himself from flinching away. The truth in those words was a little too obvious. He walks away, ignoring Revali's squawk and the sound of running footsteps. Why could he hear the spirit's footsteps?

They walk a little farther before Link starts noticing the walls closing in. Whether it's his mind or not, Revali doesn't say anything about it, so he assumes it's just himself. Why would he be having these problems now? It's never happened before.

When are we going to get there?

"I assume it will be soon. There can't be much more left."

Jumping, Link rounds on the spirit. Apparently, the taller understands and begins to explain. "I can't hear you, so no need to worry. But it just appears in my mind. I know what you say, even if I don't hear it. Trust me, it's not like I want this either." Revali huffs.

Link turns back, trying to calm himself before continuing. Soon enough, another door shows up. There's no lock to be wary of, so with no hesitation the blond opens the door. There's a familiar room, one of which looks eerily similar to the 'Minor Test of Strength' in a shrine he can remember being hell. Not that it was hard in terms of how strong he was; the bot just had some new moves that confused him to no end.

A shiver runs up his spine (something he doesn't remember ever feeling beforehand). It only takes a few steps more before the floor in the middle of the room lifts to reveal a guardian bot. Link is driven by instincts, running forward and unsheathing the Master Sword from off his back.

His mind was drowned out, and he couldn't hear anything. This wasn't a surprise, it happened every time, and he didn't have anything against it. It was just sorta hard when there was somebody else trying to work with him.

"Link, Link! Can you hear me? Goddesses' sake, are you deaf now too? There's another one! Link, there's ANOTHER ONE!"

When Revali yelled, Link whirled around, facing another bot. He back flips out of the way just in time, and momentarily sees the Rito in the air with a look of relief strewn across his face. "Thank Hylia, I never thought you would hear me!"

Link finishes off the two bots easily, obviously, but is still left winded. He has to stop himself from collapsing. He briefly wonders why he's acting like this before he remembers that Revali would know. Straightening up, he trudges over to a chest that had been at the other side of the room. Opening it, Link finds another key.

"There's no door here, which leaves the assumption that this is going to take a lot longer than we thought."

Yeah, I know that, Link thinks bitterly.

Revali's wide eyes say enough as the blond turns and storms down the corridor.

———

Time passes slowly as Link fights off more monsters, and Revali ignores him. The shock seemed to get the the bird, seeing as he wouldn't look at the fight even once. Unfortunately for the Hylian, this meant that there was no warning when it came to the boblikin sneaking up behind him.

It's only when Link lets out a pained yell that Revali's eye snap back to the fight. The smaller is holding the Master Sword in one hand, while the other is holding his injured shoulder. Revali curses himself for not noticing sooner, and feels himself panicking as the black colored monsters corner Link.

"Be careful, and focus!"

It turns out that it wasn't the right thing to do, as only a second later Link's eyes widen in surprise and he trips over his own feet. He lands on the floor with a thud, the sword in his loose hand thrown to the other side of the room.

"Get UP! Get up now! Goddess, I never knew that Hylia's Champion would be such a wimp-"

"Shut up! I'm trying!"

There's a moment of silence that seeps between the two before Link gets back up on unsteady footing. It's the first time Revali has ever seen Link use his fists, but it turns out that there was no reason to be worried. By the end, Link's shoulder and knuckles are bruised and bloody.

Link fixes Revali with a stare he doesn't think he'll ever forget.

Just don't say anything.

"Don't say anything?! The first words I hear from you are telling me to shut up!"

And what do you think your first words to me were?

The words hit harder than the Rito thought they would. The brat wasn't wrong. So all Revali does is watch and follow as Link takes a sharp turn down the corridor.

———

Breathing is hard, Link concludes. He's not sure what his problem is today; all he knows is that he's two more shallow breaths away from running back to the entrance.

He takes a quick look at his sword's grip, feeling a pit in his stomach when he realizes his hands are shaking. Not a good sign.

He looks away, bot wanting his lovely companion to notice. They had been walking down a simple hall the entire time, so when another doorway appears, Link is rushing to get it done. He touches the door, and feels himself stop as a wave of whatever the fuck this is waves over him. He clutches his chest, a choked gasp coming out. His gaze latches onto Revali, who doesn't seem to be paying attention. He dimly realizes his entire body is shaking. He tries to take a step forward, and has to lean on the door so that his legs don't buckle from under him. He sucks it all up and throws open the door, his breath leaving him completely as he falls through the doorway, landing on the floor. He props himself up on his elbows, bringing in knees under him and leaning on his hands.

The room is suddenly leaving, and his mind wanders through a different one. An empty one, full of something that he can't see. His throat is closing up as he takes hoarse breaths, gripping the cold floor. The things he can't see close in, and he feels himself be wrapped up in what he can't understand. Soon enough, what he can't understand takes home in his own body, and he can't hold himself on his hands anymore. His head hits the ground, and his fingers dig into his hair, pulling.

He feels the wetness at his cheeks and he claws at his face, wondering what the fuck is happening to me?

What's happening? Where am I? Why? Where? How? Fuck- why?

How long have I been here? How long have I been on the floor? Where's Revali?

A cold seeps into his head, and he gains his control again, exhaustion hitting him like a train. His hands fall next to his head, and his eyes fall shut. He's left the empty room, and he can hear Revali.

"Link! Listen, please! What happened? Shit-"

Link thinks about his answer, thinks of all the question the Rito is throwing at him. He knows what to respond, but he can't think. His head feels heavy, and his mouth is partly open, deciding that he just doesn't want to answer.

He's stuck in sludge, and as much as he wants to at least lift a finger to his mouth, tell Revali to be quiet, he doesn't. Even so, Revali seems to understand that he won't get anything from the blond, and shuts his beak with a clack.

They stay there for a while (a few minutes? a few seconds? hours?), until Link pushes himself up, willing himself to not throw up. Standing on unsteady feet, he leans against a wall. Eyes downcast, mouth still open, he stays stuck in time for about 10 seconds, before fixing his hair and continuing.

"Link! How could you- Do you- What the fuck? Link, why won't you just speak?!"

The Hylian only nods, then shrugs, trudging along.

He doesn't know what happens next, just knows that he pulled in an embrace. He feels feathers, and smells the open sky. Eyebrows shooting up, Link's hands shoot up to the bird's shoulders, pulling away to see Revali's shocked face.

You could- You could touch me this entire time?

"I didn't- I wasn't aware, no."

You...

"What is it?"

If you can...

Revali tilts his head, something that reminds Link of the dogs he's met at the stables. It's.. endearing.

Revali clicks his beak, looking to the side. "Would you stop looking like that? It's weird-"

Link pulls forward, wrapping his arms around the Rito's waist. Sqwaking, Revali almost pushes the small Hylian off- but he quickly thinks better of it. He's quite lucky he has feathers covering him, or else he'd be in some trouble.

He can feel Link's breaths, and when the Hylian nuzzles into him he has to calm down.

Boy is he lucky, he thinks. Without the feathers on his face, he'd be screwed.

———

They keep going on, the moment before forgotten. Link's surprised to see that there are no monsters, and Revali's relieved. He doesn't think he can watch Link like that again.

He doesn't remember feeling so scared- not since windblight, anyway.

Revali watches Link closely the rest of the way. There's no signs of him falling again. Sure, he still shaking, but that's to be expected. When they climb a ton of stairs, Revali doesn't think twice about it. He's looking at Link so much that he doesn't even realize that they had reached yet another door. When Link goes to grab the handle, Revali takes a step forward. The blond looks back at him, raising an eyebrow. It becomes clear that he understands, though, because Link nods, and starts opening it slowly.

Light floods through. Not just generic light. It's natural. He hears a gasp from the Hylian; something that reminded him a little too much of the.. problem earlier.

"Revali- We're outside!"

The smaller's voice eases the Rito's mind, and he has to stop himself from smiling.

"Yes, I see that."

The both of them step out into the light, and Revali feels a weight off his shoulders.

"Link! I was afraid you would never come out! I had some time to think, and I think the shrine was us having to face our fears-"

He watches as Link runs towards Zelda, the man immediately checking her for injuries.

"Link, I'm fine! You look a little worn though, are you okay?"

He smiles, holding up a sign which Revali assumes means okay.

"I suppose it is my time to leave. I believe I will see you again."

Zelda startles, eyes whipping to the Champion. "You had a champion with you too?! I had Mipha, I had thought that it was just because she could help me through my fears but- wait, did Revali help you?"

"Zelda, If you could give us room to think, it would be great."

He looks back to the Hylian, stuttering when he sees Link's eyes cloud with unshed tears.

"I'm sure you'll be fine without me." He huffs.

Link shakes his head, going to hug him again. Zelda doesn't say anything; something that Revali is endlessly grateful for.

He hears Links sigh, and freezes at his next words.

"Thank you, Revali."

It's only then that Revali smiles, nodding his head. "You'll be fine."

Link nods, then lets go. Revali vanishes into the air.

"I'll watch over you from now on. You'll be fine."

[brialavellan]

It has been 20 years since Inquisitor ‘Manehn Lavellan defeated Corypheus, and 18 years since the Exalted Council. Solas is furthering his plans and so far, all efforts to stop him seem to be in vain….until the Well of Sorrows begins to speak to ‘Manehn once more. Led by ancient magics and beset by enemies from Ferelden and Orlais to Antiva and Tevinter, ‘Manehn must gather allies old and new in a race against time to defeat Solas - at any cost.

(NOW ON AO3)

Chapter 1 ||  Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8  || Chapter 9  || Chapter 10 

CH 11: For the Love of the People

There were no screams.

No cries of warning.

The only sound they heard was the soft whoosh of arrows through open windows, connecting with the head of each victim, their jaws agape in shock as their limp bodies slumped over from their chairs and fell to the floor.

Four elves in black leather armor slung their bows on their backs and crept into the small red-brick house. Briala, in her russet-brown leather armor, weaved her way around the pools of blood and hunched under the table where their victims had been playing a game of cards. 

She got on her hands and knees and her eyes scanned the floors and baseboards for any breaks in the pattern, her fingers tapping the wood to feel for anomalies. She noticed a loose spot. She rapped on the wood and the wood echoed back. She pulled out her dagger, wedged it between the wooden boards, and pushed down hard. The wood snapped and revealed another cache filled with pieces of rolled parchment. She gently pulled the scraps of parchment from the small earthen hole and began to sift through each one while her agents meandered around her, checking all ingresses for suspicious intruders or curious visitors. The writing was nearly illegible on all of them but when you put them together, the meaning was clear. 

Charter’s codebreakers (with Briala’s assistance) had deciphered the old notes they found on the dead elves at the Divine’s Ascension celebration. The codes had changed since they found the notes on the dead elves, but not by enough. Using the cache of notes that Briala had found in Val Royeaux’s catacombs, Briala and Charter were able to deduce that Fen’harel’s agents used a form of alphabetic substitution, with multiple substitution alphabets. There was a pattern to the changes, a method to the madness. It had to be this way, so that lower level associates did not have to work as feverishly to memorize more alphabets. Keys had to be easily memorized. 

And Briala had the latest key.

She did not have to work very hard to translate what she had found. And what she read merely confirmed her suspicions.

They had planned to assassinate Duke Alfonse Blanchard, whose duchy encompassed Emprise de Leon and with whom Briala had a strong trade relationship.

And they had planned to assassinate him tonight. 

Had planned. 

Until plans changed.

“Duke Blanchard?” one of the elves, a young dark skinned woman with a small afro groaned. “The youngest brother, he is. Last one left. Worked for him as a bard. Paid well. Bit of a tit. But not murder-worthy. Why’d Fen’harel want ‘im dead?”

“Don’t know. Don’t believe in self-appointed gods anyway,” her sibling, a young man with cornrows, said. “Where was he at when Halamshiral burned down, eh? Seems like a god could’ve stopped that, after all.” He chuckled darkly.

“It’s a ploy to weaken the Dales,” Briala said. “Fen’harel’s agents claim to fight for the people but…” she paused, “I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but we didn’t earn what we have through open warfare.”

“It’s stupid to assasinate with stabbing. Too messy,” piped a pale, freckled agent with crimson hair, changing the subject. “And killing the kids too. Come on! That’s just over…well…overkill.” 

“So this it for today?” an older, ruddy-faced elven woman with salt-and-pepper curls asked. “Or we’ve got more? I know a Red Jenny in Val Royeaux who could take a peek’n’sneak. Maybe find a few to shoot if she’s not tripping up a nob or two.”

“No, that’s too dangerous,” Briala said. “The rest will go to ground but they weren’t as much of an immediate threat as the one here and the two in Halamshiral. We’ve saved the lives of three allies. We’ve saved the Dales for now. You all did good work here.” 

“‘Course we did,” the man in the cornrows said with a grin and earned a ribbing from his sister. 

She pointed to the siblings. “Adele, Alain, you’ll come back with me to Emprise du Lion.” she said. “We need to inform Duke Blanchard that we just saved his life.” 

She walked up to the other two and handed them each a small roll of parchment. “Crimson and Lily, you will both stay here until I give you more orders. Burn these after you read them. Make sure Fen’harel doesn’t send more agents.” 

She paused and took a hard look at the faces of her agents. 

“I know it just looks like he is merely trying to weaken my alliances. But he is destroying everything you all have built. We built a home in the Dales, where elves are treated as free men. Where we live on our terms, not as second class citizens, but as equal people, woven within the fabric of Orlais. They are our people, yes. I don’t wish to fight them, but they would destroy what we have crafted over twenty years for a foolish ill-conceived attempt at rebellion that will take as many elven lives as they claim to save. What we have is not perfect, but it’s ours. And I’ll defend what we have to the death.”

All four elves nodded at her words with solemn gratitude. Briala saw no hesitation, no twitch of an eye or biting of lips. They were loyal. So far. But being betrayed had burned her too much and she could not help but feel that she was missing something. Not a key or a code. Fabrication or not, the mystery of the freckled elven man still cast a shadow of doubt. 

“There’s no doubt here if you’re looking for it, Marquise,” Crimson said with a smile. “We’ll do what needs to be done. We know you will too.”

————————

The tavern was bustling, near bursting at the seams with the sound of drunken merriment. The type of desperate merriment when you have little to lose, and you lose, and you lose more. So you take what you can, and don’t dare hope for more. This was enough, for now. But Alienage streets still simmered with resentment across Orlais. The undercurrent still sullied the mood of the revelers just enough where they could be dangerous.

Katrina sat at the back of the tavern, tracing the rim of her mug of water. A young elven man with greasy blonde hair in pauper’s clothes approached and slipped her a coin, one that marked him as ally, and leader, of the Val Royeaux cell. All of Solas’s agents worked independently, but all knew Katrina. His lieutenant. His closest confidant (or as close of a confidant as Fen’harel kept). Her will was his. Her position, unassailable. Her dedication, unwavering. 

And all of his agents stood in awe before her.

The young man bowed deeply, almost touching his own feet. “Lieutenant, it is a great honor…”

“I don’t ask for honor,” Katrina chastised him. “And you shouldn’t grovel at my feet. You are elven. Have some pride.”

The young man straightened up and cracked his knuckles, “You’re right, of course, my apologies, Lady Katrina,” he said with a raspy Orlesian accent as he took a seat.

“Have you heard the news from Emprise du Leon and Halamshiral?”

“Just minutes ago,” he said, his croaky voice barely managing more than a whisper, “Claudette said there’s not a trace of them left. From any of them. Not even bodies. If that’s true then -”

Katrina stopped him, “They’re dead, Jacques. Briala found them out.”

“Briala…” his voice cracked with disgust. “She plays at revolution, but kills more elves than humans.”

“I remember,” Katrina said. She had told the Inquisition long ago. She warned them that the elf who fancied herself Ambassador was no more than Celene’s pet, barely above a bed warmer. In her eyes, Briala was just a high class courtesan. She would jump into the arms of anyone who could give her the power she grasped for.

“If she knows about them,” Jacques whispered, fidgeting in his seat, “then she knows about the rest of us. She can bring us all down. She -”

“Jacques, just change your codes and watch your backs,” she told him, exasperated, “this is just a minor setback. Nothing more, nothing less. They run around dousing small fires but don’t see the blazing inferno on the horizon. Our leader plays a longer game, beyond their understanding and even beyond ours. You must trust him as he trusts us.”

“Of course, of course, of course,” Jacques said, nodding as he spoke, more so as a prayer than a true affirmation. 

“Besides,” Katrina said with an icy smile. “Briala may have power and wealth. But we,” she gestured to the patrons in the crowded tavern. “We have the People.”

Katrina rose from the table and slipped her way through the throng of patrons towards the counter, hoisting herself on top of the counter-top despite the tavern keep’s feeble protest.

“Everyone listen up!” she yelled over the din of drunken patrons, “I want to make a toast to all of us!”

The patrons settled down for just a moment, just long enough to entertain whatever drunken rabble they expected. 

“For decades, centuries, millenia, we’ve been pushed around, right?” she started, “We’ve been beat down and told we’re less than nothing. We get treated like dirt, like dregs, by humans! All the damn time!”

The racket began to give way to confused murmuring. A heckler yelled at her to get to the fucking point already.

“But you know what? Humans don’t treat us like that because they hate us. They do it because they’re jealous of us. They do it because they are frightened by us!”

She continued, fire in her chest and her voice in a frenzy. 

“We conquered Thedas before they arrived! We rose with Shartan and Andraste and brought the Tevinter Imperium to its knees! Our people have defeated Blights! Our people healed the Breach!” 

The confused murmuring gave way to a chorus of righteous pride. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of taking shit! I’m tired of being treated like nothing! No, less than nothing! We are more than the humans could ever dream! And one day, we’re gonna show them!”

The righteous pride gave way to raucous cheering. Katrina raised a closed fist and the rest followed suit, a drunken crescendo singing a single verse.

The elvhen will rise again!

————————

“And here is the hero of our hour, Marquise Briala!” Duke Alfonse Blanchard called out as Briala walked through the stained glass doors of his summer chateau and rushed to greet her, taking her hand and leading her inside, her two agents following behind and giving each other an almost-amused look. “I could not have had a more stalwart ally in these troubled times. And your timing is most impeccable.“

He greeted her in a yellow plaidweave waistcoat with tails that almost touched the floor, burgundy heeled boots, and black breeches with a burgundy stripe down the sides, a style, Briala noted, two seasons out of fashion. She maintained her sweet smile despite her horror. With any other person, these crimes of fashion would be nigh unforgivable but he was so charming, so adept at the Grand Game, that one could almost forgive his gaudy tastes. Without his charm, he would have lost his lands and his head like both of his brothers, who were found to be conspiring with the Venatori twenty years prior. 

As the four made their way inside to the large marble-tiled and gilded-golden foyer, a group of lesser nobles crowded around them from a balcony that overlooked the foyer. He did make sure to address Briala, of course, but spoke mainly for the crowd.

“I have long supported the free reign of the Dales and through my connections, we have built a partnership built on equity and mutual trust. It is a triumph for us and for Orlais. May our partnership show a new path forward to all who would witness it. And may we celebrate with a toast!” 

He raised his crystal glass and drank deeply. The attendees clapped and drank as well as he finished his soliloquy. Briala noticed his northern partners did not clap as enthusiastically and took smaller sips of their toasts versus his smaller, southern supporters. 

Her coalition was holding fast, she noted, but it was still too small. The southern duchys noticed the sea change among the Council of Heralds. They knew as long as the Chantry stood behind their Herald of Andraste, the Herald stood behind Briala, and as long as Celene did not move against any of them that their ascension was assured. 

The northern neighbors were not pleased. As Briala was falling out of favor with Celene, her center of power around Val Royeaux and the North was growing increasingly hostile. They were her most ardent supporters in the Civil War. Besides outliers like Ghislain, she had almost no Northern support. 

If Celene was trying to undermine the Chantry, that could make some Northern allies rush to her side, since the Grand Enchanter had made sure the Council of Heralds was stacked with those most loyal to her. The Southern partners would then jump at the chance to undermine Celene further and expand their own influence. In that way, Celene was stuck, unable to act against Briala more forcefully. But as Natalie and her ilk sought to undermine the Chantry from within, then Celene’s power would grow. 

Enough to rid herself of the meddlesome marquise.

Briala milled around and mingled with the guests for a while, examining each gesture and every syllable spoken, building her list of allies and adversaries, those who she could count on and those she could not. Nobles might bend their knees as she greeted them, but every act was a performance on the world’s greatest stage. Her two agents followed, close enough to protect but far enough away to blend into the scenery, to note what she might miss. On this stage, elves were relegated to minor characters, but her agents, along with many other elves, used their invisibility to their advantage. 

Even allyship, now matter how publicly declared, was always conditional among the nobility. Like rats on a sinking ship, her allies would scatter at the first sign of trouble. Even Duke Blanchard’s words, no matter how grand, were empty platitudes even if he did feel personal gratitude.

The only true ally she had ever had, who gave her everything and expected nothing, was ‘Manehn.

“I hope you like hot weather,” the Duke said, beaming as he approached, “The Lady Montilyet has invited all her trading partners to a soiree. The Marquise de Serault, the Duke de Ghislain and several others will be there. I’ll make sure you have an invitation.” 

“I’m honored.” Briala said, just loud enough for her words to echo, “I did have an engagement with the Comtesse Cosette of Lydes, but I can postpone that for another date.”

She did not have an engagement with Comtesse Cosette of Lydes. This was a public, retaliatory snubbing, payback for her trying to entrap Briala into an inequitable trade deal six months before and for trying to poison her two fêtes ago. As Briala rose, her status would now fall. The two agents noted the Comtesse’s dismay and slightly smiled at her distress. Lydes might start to submit now, if only to save face. 

“And do bring the Herald, of course, would you?” the Duke added after a long pause to witness this spectacle. “She just insisted that the Herald come. And it would be quite splendid to have the Savior of Orlais in attendance, don’t you think?”

Briala nodded with a placid smile. “I do.”

————————

Under cover of a moonless night, ‘Manehn and Davhalla arrived back at the Cathedral, saddle-sore from four days of hard riding. They had traded 20 sovereigns for two riding horses in the nearest trade town outside the Brecilian Forest, and had nearly gotten themselves arrested because the local townspeople could not fathom two Dalish elves that could rub two coppers together, much less two Dalish elves with more money than most there saw in a month.

One of Briala’s people, a courier, met them at the gates with a missive and a somber glance.

“News from Kirkwall,” he said as he pressed the letter into ‘Manehn’s hand. She stared at him for several seconds, shaking the note at him, until he realized his error, took the missive back and broke the seal with both of his hands. 

“A riot,” he grimly read from the page, “in the Alienage. Troublemakers set fire. Lots dead, mostly elves. Definitely Fen’harel’s doing.”

‘Manehn’s veins turned to ice and her jaw tightened.

“Your daughter is safe,” he added, seeing ‘Manehn freeze, “She’s with our people. She’ll be back in three days. Four if the currents don’t agree.” 

‘Manehn breathed an audible sigh of relief as the courier departed. 

“I shouldn’t have kept her alone,” she said, shaking her head and rubbing her temple. “I shouldn’t have even taken her to Kirkwall. I don’t even know what I was thinking, getting her involved in this.”

“She’s nineteen now, ‘Manehn. You can’t keep her sheltered forever,” Davhalla said to her. “She’s learning under guidance, structure and without her risking her life unnecessarily.”

“I’ve done nothing but just put her in danger. Repeatedly. What would’ve happened if she couldn’t banish that demon or if Solas’s people had - ”

“She is a Dreamer. She is the daughter of one of the most influential and powerful elves in Orlais,” Davhalla said grimly. “She is always in danger. She needs to be given the tools to defend herself. She needs to learn how to fight, especially given her eagerness to do so.”

“She shouldn’t have to.”

“None of us should have to, but we do anyway, don’t we?” Davhalla said with a yawn and a stretch of her arms as she walked away towards the Apartments.

‘Manehn retired to her room, eager to sleep but equally eager to soothe her rattled nerves. She found two servants and had them draw a hot bath while she undid the straps down her arm and across her chest that latched her dagger to her stump and set it on her desk. As the servants heated the water, she lit a candle, grabbed a magnifying glass, and scanned every inch of her blade. The pins that kept it sheathed were wearing, she noted, and the blade was blunting. She would have Dagna take a look at it. 

Later. 

She would take care of everything later.

She was too tired for racing thoughts and insomnia tonight. Too tired to take the honey wine that she usually needed to put herself to sleep. If only she could pause time, she thought, then maybe she could know peace. Had it really been so long that a spectre did not shadow her? Whether it was the fate of her clan, her people, or all of Thedas, she did not remember a time where she did not carry a burden. Carrying that burden had weathered her as much, if not more, than the mere passage of time. 

She sent the servants away, slipped off her clothes and sunk the bath, savoring the slight sizzle on her skin from the hot water as the filth washed away. She slid further into the tub, propped up her feet and leaned her head slightly back  until her hair touched the water. If she slipped further down, she thought, if she submerged herself completely, could she stay there? Could she surrender what glimmer of life remained within her?

She pulled herself back up and shuddered as the cool air hit her skin. She would not succumb. 

She pulled herself out of her bath, grabbed a towel and headed to bed. She hoped that for this night, she would sleep well.

[rainonglass]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

Repost, don’t reblog.

BASICS.

full name.  quirrel...... of hallownest?? hallownest doesnt really do surnames

nickname.  nin canon, he’s been called “mask”. i hc he probably got called “monomon’s assistant” and “that bug following monomon” a lot, even though. both of those are longer than his actual name

gender.  male, he/him

height.  tentatively 3′9″-ish. canonicaly he’s taller than hornet without her horns and shorter than hornet with horns so take that as you will

age. for sure older than 50, probably around 65-70

zodiac. doesn’t remember his birthday, but i hc he’s an aquarius. fun fact Bring Your Child To The Library day is the first saturday of february

spoken languages.  whatever language was most common in and around hallownest, plus bits and pieces of many languages from the world beyond

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color.  does not have hair follicles but his antennae are black

eye color. beady and black, if you google pillbug face you will see his eyes

skin tone.  whatever skin isn’t covered by carapace is a desaturated dark blue

accent.  uhh his voice actor is a guy from chicago if that gives you anything. ok for real though i think he has kind of a muddled accent, like the way he says “cat” doesn’t quite rhyme with “bat”. stuff that kinda clues you into his background in the wilds, where his speech patterns were shaped by the different places he went. despite that, he’s pretty easy to understand when he talks. something something being monomon’s assistant included teaching classes something something he retained that enunciation. fun fact one of my friends cobbled together his voice clips to make him say Words and the resulting accent sounded.... french? do with that what you will

voice.  i have it right here! specifically, near the end of the video but before his Fightin Words. he sounds his age, he’s pretty tired. still, there’s something very friendly about the way he talks

dominant hand.  ok so in game they just flip his sprite so you can’t definitively say what hand he holds his nail with, but in the prequel comic it looks like he favors his right both for combat and for general stuff (ie, he waves with his right hand)

posture.  i genuinely cannot tell if he’s slouching in-game or if his body’s just shaped like that, but i’m gonna go ahead and say he slouches a lot nowadays just because he’s old and his center of gravity is lower

tattoos. his position in hallownest wouldn’t have allowed it pre-amnesia, post-amnesia he wouldn’t have been keen on the recovery time given he was fighting to survive in the wilds

birthmarks. nope

noticeable feature(s). well, he’s obviously wearing a mask on his face, and he wears a kerchief over his antennae. if you got both of those off him you’d literally just be looking at a normal roly poly but i thought i’d mention them. uhhh he’s kinda leggy and he’s shaped like a kidney bean

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. god i dont know. i hc quirrel was prrrrobably around middle-class? he doesn’t look like the aristocratic bugs in the city of tears and we know hallownest had a pretty strict caste system, so it was. probably kind of weird when monomon made him her assistant, but not inconcievable (for comparison, lurien’s butler/assistant was a member of hallownest’s high society). anyway that’s all to say i think he was uhhhhh probably hatched at home, in a city near but not part of the city of tears?

birth weight.  im sorry i cannot find the average birth weight of a pillbug but they look like this as mancas/babies

birth height.  like a milimeter or less

manner of birth. hatched from an egg!

first words. “outside”

siblings. so, so many (most didnt survive infancy though it’s tough for a pillbug)

parents.  two moms (it is MY headcanon and i give quirrel the two moms!!!)

parental involvement.  his parents tried their best but it’s tough when you have a bunch of pillbug babies running around. once he got a little older and survived molting though, they took more direct care of him. they made sure he got a very good education and worked hard to make him Refined in hopes he’d get a good job in the capital. he got in trouble pretty often even though he was a really sweet kid, he’d just forget the rules and run off to play outside. once he got his position with monomon, his moms talked about him a lot at like. the quilting circle.

(sidenote: quirrel remembers literally none of this, if you asked him any of these questions he’d have no idea except stuff that could logically be deduced from his species. he doesn’t remember his family at all)

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. bisexual

romantic orientation. he’s bi all the way down baby

love language. playful debates, small touches, traveling together, saying exactly what he thinks about something, letting them see him sleep

relationship tendencies. asking a lot of questions, tends to hold his partner to a higher esteem than himself early on, learns a lot from his partner. not great at living with a partner because he’s so used to living outside

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. doesn’t have one in-game, unless you count the archives theme (literally just ambient bubbling and spooky noises) or uumuu’s boss theme aka decisive battle (which is a general boss theme and isn’t unique to uumuu). i think uhhhh wait fuck i lied. closest thing we have is this, which is the city of tears indoors theme but is best known for playing in the scene where you sit on a bench with quirrel

mental illnesses. depression, some degree of anxiety, general dissociative problems, you know the deal. autism isn’t a mental illness but uuuuuh i’m gonna mention it anyway, i’m autistic so no matter what if i’m roleplaying a character they’re gonna end up with some autism in them. he’s got some issues with grief but like he doesn’t have a diagnosis and i don’t know what that would be anyway

self-confidence level. low! very low! he knows he’s old and he can’t remember much about being monomon’s assistant so he doesn’t have much going for him, in his eyes. his (implied) death at blue lake kinda gives you a look into that

vulnerabilities. grief. showing physical weakness. being shown pity. being trapped.

[radiantmists]

rhythm of war part two thoughts

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa  (spoilers through the second interludes under the cut, and at the very bottom some comments based on what i have to assume is a major spoiler for the entire book, or close to it, though i'm warning again beforehand.)

well, last things first: taravangian's working against odium! i'm super excited about this, and very happy about the support for the concept that Taravangian's compassion isn't his curse, it's just the division of his intelligence and compassion that's sthe problem.

so we've been able to talk to the sibling, who is mostly trying to help despite genuinely feeling that what navani is doing is wrong. except now they're locked away, and navani is under the direct scrutiny of rabaniel and messing around with her is going to be risky. that being said, we're on our way to some very interesting revelations about how investiture works on roshar:

the stormfather is purely of honor. the sibling is a mix of honor and cultivation. the nightwatcher is purely cultivation

the sibling should not be able to function on pure stormlight, because it's purely of honor.

lift may not run on stormlight at all-- we already knew she can't pull it from spheres.

adhesion, which is somehow a fake surge and purely of honor, is not totally cancelled by whatever rabaniel did to the sibling. from lift's interlude, neither is regrowth when she uses it, which if i had to pick is the surge i would choose to be purely of cultivation.

as far as we can tell, people can still draw in stormlight with no issue, they just cant use it to power surges.

windrunners, who bond honorspren, are less affected by the fabrial: this applies especially to kaladin and syl, and we know syl is different from other honorspren, older. my money is that she's in some way more fully of honor than the others. lift, who's been hugely modified by cultivation directly, is also immune. the edgedancers as a whole are not immune and apparently are reacting as badly as anyone else.

...syl notes in the last set of interludes that she's different from other honorspren, mentally. is this a byproduct of whatever she did to sneak out of shadesmar, or of her being older? interesting.

To me, this all implies that whatever rabaniel did interferes with how cultivation and honor interact. lift, who seemingly only uses cultivation's investiture, can power the surge that seems most directly associated with cultivation; kaladin, probably closest to honor, can do the surge that seems to be entirely honor. the regular edgedancers aren't immune at all because they run on stormlight; the windrunners are somewhat but not fully immune because they're almost fully of honor, but cultivation likely had some hand in the way honorspren were made after the shattering.

Regrowth really is a very odd surge, compared to the others, which seem to deal with much more fundamental physical forces.

the fused do have access to regrowth while powered by voidlight, though. interesting.

speaking of: did navani's weird sphere contain some kind of... cultivationlight? or maybe it's some kind of combination, and that's why the sphere exploded right around the time of rabiniel's experiments (or the sibling was drawing on it somehow?)

on a more immediate level, the current tower resistance is as follows: navani, under constant monitoring but she has the best chance to figure out how to fix this shit. kaladin, who's a mess, being hunted by the pursuer, and who's about to start getting suicide-baiting nightmares from odium, but he does know how to fight! lift, who's amazing and knows how to sneak around the tower but is being hunted by someone who i assume has to be mraize. and rlain, masquerading as a singer (im so worried about him i hope he's okay).

if this somehow ends with kaladin killing mraize to protect lift before he can give shallan answers, i'm going to fucking SCREAM.

speaking of frustrating things: lirin turn on ur location i just wanna talk. Kaladin was actually rebuilding himself until this whole invasion thing, and i don't understand how lirin can look at a man who's that committed to doing good, sees exactly what it is that drives him to kill, and then calls him a monster.

I loved Kaladin's efforts to deal with mental health care! He's in the unique position ofhaving way more political power than any medical professional, darkeyes, or mentally ill person could ever have hoped to have, and I really want to see him come back to this once the world is burning down a bit less again, especially because it genuinely seemed to be helping him.

navani's plots have sorta been subsumed into this whole plotline, but i enjoyed what we got-- the little episode with the other scholars taking bets on whether she'd use tomor's fabrial was adorable, and i also liked how clear it is that they look to her to make things work.

moving on, uh... shadesmar stuff.

adolin's making some progress at waking maya! she doesn't talk but she shows a clearly unusual ability to learn and make independent decisions. i love it.

...also the thing with notum's horse implies that ryshadium are sentient enough to imagine spren. that's fun, and also terrifying.

adolin offering to stand trial for the crimes of humanity is fascinating, but all i'm thinking about is the episode of avatar where he agrees to stand trial for kyoshi, except in this case we already know that humanity did actually do the thing he's in trouble for. it would be unjust to punish adolin for it, but... i worry.

especially because there are, apparently, new deadeyes. this isn't extraordinarily surprising as syl was two skips away from death (though, im curious, does it work differently if the spren's never been a blade prior to dying? or are there just deadeyes wandering around who aren't tied to blades?) but it is very alarming.

and then there's the other thing: pattern is lying to shallan. i frankly don't think it's as simple as him being a spy for the ghostbloods; we saw even here that he's a terrible liar, and to have concealed this he'd have to have been pretty impressive.

on the other hand there was clearly some shit going on between shallan, her family, and the ghostbloods when she first got pattern. he's admitted that he has more exposure to humans than most spren. it doesn't look great, honestly.

i also appreciate that brandon is acknowledging how fucking weird shallan's timeline is. hopefully we get some answers about this.

adolin and shallan's relationship continues to be adorable; the sequence with the starspren is lovely and i totally get why it's brandon's favorite chapter in this part. between this and part one, he clearly enjoyed how the shadolin came out in this book and i agree. the fact that his romances continue after the marriage, with issues beyond just jealousy, is one of my favorite things about sanderson books.

venli's whole set of pov's this part was about walking up to urithiru. i really do want to like her, but she spends a ton of time just following more dynamic characters around and observing in these first two parts, and if not for the juicy secrets rabaniel's been dropping, it would make me just want to get back to other characters. hopefully that'll change in the next few parts.

i was going to make a comment about how we havent even had flashbacks yet, but i just glanced at the POVs for the next part, so I guess those are coming. I do wonder if these eshonai flashbacks will be info venli knows, or what.

she did kill someone for the first time, and attuned the rhythm of the lost for the dead man. the whole incident disturbs her, and i appreciated that as the rest of our viewpoint characters are extremely accustomed to death. i'm interested in seeing how this affects her going forward.

the epigraphs are so exciting! sazed is writing to hoid again, but this time he's gotten his bearings and spoken to some new shards... ones we haven't heard from before! also he asks hoid to say hi when he's on scadrial, which, fair enough tbh. i dont remember whether hoid shows up much in mistborn era 2 but for some reason i have the feeling he is not going to oblige this request.

the epigraph where sazed mentions he wants someone who can both preserve and kill immediately made me think of kaladin. (i think this is what he ends up trying to do with wax, but shhhh) he and sazed would agree on a lot of things philosophically, i think. (omg au where kaladin ends up working for sazed?? i have no idea how this would work the idea just fascinates me.

...where are the heralds? did dalinar take them with him, or are they in the tower? if the latter, are they also passed out? probably not, since they're not radiants, right? although whatever they are is very investiture-dependent so who knows. vasher's probably alright.

why is odium afraid of nightblood? is he worried it could eat him?

lots of POVs for the next part, but no shadesmar crew, so i guess we'll find out whether adolin gets executed by honorspren later. i do wonder why so many pov's from the battlefront; i guess something more is going to happen along those lines than i'd really expected. crossed fingers for some actual insight into renarin, finally.

in light of said spoiler: holy god i hope that division (between taravangian's intelligence and compassion) doesn't continue, though I have the horrible feeling that it will. This puts sazed's discussion of the intent of a shard combined with the cleverness of its vessel into a terrifying light: a godlike being who is at his smartest when he's a complete sociopath is like, the worst case scenario,  not even taking into account that the odium shard is uniquely suited to make people act on impulses. this is so bad.

but i can't know the full extent of that until i read the context, so let's move on!

[artificialqueens]

(I Can Still Recall) Our Last Summer - Chapter Six (Group Fic) - pureCAMP

A/N - so here we go! as u might remember, a phrase coined from mean queens several aeons ago…. welcome to the fuckening. from here on out, it will be disastrous because thats just how we do things these days

im going on holiday for a week now so here’s ur update!! will be back soon with more and potentially some shillam and shalaska <3

“Mommy! Mommy, look!”

The little girl, her hair in messy pigtails around her face, was playing with her younger brother. She couldn’t have been any more than five years old. Sharon smiled, nodding intently to show her daughter that she was paying attention. It was one of those lazy summer days, most of which had been spent lying on a towel, watching her beautiful children play as she soaked up the sun. Next to her, Justin was watching too, his gaze filled with adoration.

“We’re so lucky,” Justin breathed, his voice low. His hands ghosted over Sharon’s sun-warmed skin, a tender display of affection.

The little girl attempted a somersault, and they both clapped. When she righted herself, she was beaming.

“Yeah. We are.” She agreed, burying her face in his shoulder. She allowed herself a moment of clarity, to just take in his scent as he watched the kids. Everything was perfect.

The warm sensation soon faded, and as Sharon lifted her head, she was filled with an icy shock. Her face was no longer buried in Justin’s shoulders. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He was no longer watching the kids, and they were screaming - crying out desperately as an unseen force dragged them into the sea. Their tiny fingers left lines in the sand as they tried to anchor themselves to the shore.

Soon she found herself running, ignoring how the beach had transitioned from idyllic and peaceful to grey and violent. The wind whipped at her as she tried to run at her children, biting at her skin and forcing her back. The last she saw of her children, their screams were being swallowed by the monstrous waves that were cannibalizing the beach.

Sharon sat bolt upright, panting. She was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, having awoken in a sheer panic from her nightmare.

They had been happening for five nights in a row now, and she didn’t know what to make of them.

It wasn’t always children. Sometimes she was on stage, performing as usual, and one energetic jump would lead to the stage collapsing, and she would fall into an abyss, screaming. Other times, she was arguing with her mother, who would then pull out a knife and carve a grisly crucifixion onto her stomach. Whatever the dream, it was always harrowing, and she awoke the same way - in the peak of her terror, sweating and shaking.

She leant back, breathing heavily as she tried to relax. If this dream was textbook - following the pattern of all her others - then soon enough, she would be suffering with the more physical effects of her tormented mind.

Sure enough, like clockwork, the nausea within her rose quickly. It was a race against time, and Sharon was briefly grateful to be in the house she hated so much, as the bathroom was just a few feet from her bedroom door. Thankfully, she made it in good time, and ended up crouched over the toilet bowl, retching and spewing what little she had consumed.

Sharon had done everything she could think of to find the root of her weird dreams and sickness. Cutting out alcohol had been the first and most obvious one, but it seemed that a string of terrible hangovers hadn’t been causing her morning misery. She tried to eat better and move more, but nothing helped. After that, she’d been pretty stumped for causes.

The whole ordeal usually lasted about an hour, although she spent at least half of the day feeling sick and wobbly. She assumed, grimly, that that would be the case for as long as the illness lasted. In the meantime, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. With not so long left until her friends headed off into Europe to pursue their further education, Sharon wanted to spend every moment of her time with Jinkx and Raja.

Once she was sure that everything she had eaten had come back up, she cleaned herself up and got dressed, leaving as quickly as she could. There was a narrow window of time during which her mother would be out, pottering to do errands for the church, so she needed to take it to avoid a confrontation. It was the safest option to just avoid her as much as possible.

The state of her family life was depressing. Sharon closed the front door behind her and tried not to think about it.

-

Before heading to Raja’s, Sharon made a quick trip to the store near her house. It was her go-to - maybe because she could buy anything she wanted without fear of it being traced back to her mother. Despite Jinkx always claiming she was paranoid, Sharon knew her mother had eyes everywhere. Once, she had attempted to buy a magazine that had been deemed ‘inappropriate’ by her mother’s standards, and three different people had reported back to her mother. She knew most of them through church, and there was no shortage of religious fanatics working in and around the local shops. Sharon much preferred the safety of the shops near Raja, where no one she knew would frequent.

Her goodbye gifts already picked out, Sharon decided to just wander a little, mostly searching for the cider Raja had been begging her to get and hoping her nausea would calm down. She was just reaching for the third can when somebody bumped into her.

“Ooh, sorry!” A soft voice said. Sharon looked up, making eye contact with a gentle-looking woman. She was blushing with embarrassment, and gesturing apologetically towards her swollen stomach.

“I’m still figuring out how to manoeuver myself with this one! Sorry, sweetheart.��� The woman continued. She patted Sharon’s shoulder before continuing on her way, the mishap already forgotten in her mind.

In complete contrast to the kindly woman, Sharon felt as though a cold fist had squeezed her heart into a vice grip. It was as if sense had slapped her straight in the face, and she was reeling from the sting of the revelation.

Feeling sicker than ever, she tossed the drinks into her bag and walked to the opposite corner of the store. A burning shame permeated her whole body as she scanned the aisle, overwhelmed with choice. It made her beyond angry that her supposed faith, something she didn’t believe in and never would, could still condition her to feel so disgusting.

The innocent white boxes lined the aisle from top to bottom, wall to wall. Some of them had smiling babies on, with big blue eyes and no teeth. Some had large, rounded bumps, as though the idiot models really needed that purchase just to make sure. Some of them were just plain and simple. Some of them showed couples embracing together, their loving expressions mocking her. We’re married, financially-stable adults planning a family. You’re a slut.

She snatched the closest one from the shelf and left, her cheeks flaming.

The cashier, of course, said nothing. He had no reason to care about the anxieties of a seventeen year old, despite Sharon’s worry that everyone was judging her. He didn’t even blink when she snatched up the offending box and buried it underneath the rest of her purchases, trying to pretend it wasn’t there.

At Raja’s house, it was all she could think about. The three cans of cider - which were, admittedly, amazing - had been poured into glasses, but she felt too nauseous to have much more than a sip of her own. It took all that she had to try and look normal, to mask the sickness and the anxiety that wrestled in the pit of her potentially-pregnant stomach. 

It was terrifying.

Whenever she spaced out, becoming entrapped in her own thoughts, she laughed herself out of it, pretending to Raja and Jinkx that she was just feeling a little dreamy.

“It’s probably sex-withdrawal.” Raja laughed. “I get all spacey when I haven’t fucked in too long. It’s been forever since we ran into asshole Justin for the first time. You haven’t been fucked in at least a month. It’s so bad when you get the bug for it. Go and find a man, it’ll drive you crazy if you don’t.”

Jinkx clinked their glasses together, clearly in agreement. “Or I’ll do it. Girls know what girls like.”

Sharon forced out a laugh. “Ha, maybe. I’m just gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Her mind was fixated on that evil box, still sitting at the bottom of her bag. If she didn’t do it now, she would never have the courage to find out. Her bubbling apprehension wouldn’t be able to stay simmering long enough to play the waiting game. She had to find out, if only to put her mind at rest.

She practically tore through the box, gulping as the little stick fell into her hands. It was a clean slate, waiting to predict her future. Reading the instructions on how to make the plastic fortune-teller work, she sat and wished the damn thing would just stay blank. She needed to know, but knew she couldn’t face it.

“If sufficient levels of HCG are present then…” Sharon mumbled under her breath, reading the label. She almost tossed it onto the floor when she reached the end.

How obnoxious. If she was pregnant, two lines would appear, and the little smiley face already at the end of the stick would smile at her, reflecting the happiness that all new mothers should feel. To most people who bought it, it was a sweet memory to look back on. To Sharon, it would be a garish joker, taunting her of her stupidity.

In order to avoid arousing suspicion, she activated the test and then shoved it deep into her pocket. As a decoy, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands and headed out, making a show of looking calm and casual. Her cider glass was empty, and the mischievous grins of her friends told her exactly where the drink had gone.

“You snooze, you lose.” Jinkx told her triumphantly. “Sorry. Did you buy any more?”

“No. I didn’t buy anything else.” Sharon said, a little too quickly. “It’s okay, anyway. You guys like it more than I do.”

Any conversation she tried to make was pointless, and every fibre of her being just wanted to burst into tears. It would be a while until she saw Raja and Jinkx again, after they’d left, and she didn’t want them to remember her as depressed and dull, a shell of the lively girl they knew her as. That was how she’d been ever since Justin left, even with her distractions on the side, but now it was worse than ever. The worry was killing her.

All she needed was to see one line, and the smiley face would look kindly, reminding her that even though her luck was terrible, somebody up there was on her side. Surely, someone up there had seen how her heart had been broken three times by lovers, about to be broken a fourth by her friends, and would cut her some slack. There was no way she was that unlucky.

Whilst Raja and Jinkx started discussing their plans for the future, Sharon held her breath and started to count.

“I wonder how many hot French boys there’ll be in Paris.”

One, two, three, four, five, six… What happens if there’s a positive? What if it’s a false?

“Apparently the place is like, rife with lesbians. There’s an infestation. Sounds like my kinda place.”

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen… Could I really be pregnant?

“My dad paid for the nicest accommodation ever, I’m so excited. You two have to visit me there!”

Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one, thirty two, thirty three… How will I pay for a baby? I’ll need to get a job and find somewhere to live…

“My halls have this huge auditorium! We could put on a concert there!”

Forty two, forty three, forty four, forty five, forty six, forty seven… Would I be a good mom? What do you even do?

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Sharon. You gotta come and visit.”

Fifty five.

“Yeah! Same here. I wish you could come too.”

Fifty six. I’ll be fine. It’s gonna be fine.

“I can’t believe our last show is next weekend. It’s all happening so fast.”

Fifty seven. Fuck, it’s not going fast enough.

“This summer has been the best one ever. I’ll never forget it.”

Fifty eight. This has been the longest minute of my life.

“Me neither. I feel like everything has changed this summer. It’s completely unforgettable.”

Fifty nine. Oh god, I can’t look.

“God, I love you girls so much.”

Sixty.

She looked.

“Are you crying?”

Sharon wiped her eyes with her sleeve, chuckling weakly. “Oh, ignore me, seventeen and crying over my friends. I’m just thinking about how much I’m gonna miss us! I’m nothing without you two, my best friends.”

Raja softened. “Aww, sweetheart! You’re a strong, fiercely independent woman, whether we’re here or not. I’m gonna miss you every day!”

“I think we need a hug, no more tears.” Jinkx insisted. “Hugs fix everything.”

Sharon laughed once again, sniffing as she buried herself into her friend’s embrace. Hugs fix everything, except for when you have an unfixable problem growing inside you. 

Two little lines stared back at her.

Justin had cheated; Jaremi had run away; Willam had gone home. Her two best friends - her only friends - were leaving: Raja for Paris and Jinkx for Amsterdam.

And Sharon was pregnant.

-

It wasn’t going away. Normally, if she tried hard enough, she could simply ignore the problem and it would go away. It would disappear and float away into the ether, and she would wonder why she had ever worried about something so obsolete.

It wasn’t working this time.

For one, it never left her mind. Her dreams were cursed with visions of shrieking babies and boyfriends who would flit in and out, breaking up with her in various ways. During the day, her mind was haunted in the same way - the vision of that positive swirling in the back of all of her thoughts. She had an aversion to the fish in the marketplace and thought, absentmindedly, it was probably to do with that. She saw babies being carried by their sweet, caring mothers and wondered if she really had it in her to be a mom, or whether she had to take some kind of action to end it.

Secondly, her sickness only worsened. In order to avoid her mother noticing, she had been leaving the house early; she rose before five just so she could go out and be sick somewhere else. The nausea didn’t seem to want to leave her, either. It hung around all day, jolting her stomach at the slightest scent it didn’t agree with. Two nights ago, at the taverna, the heady scent of beer had set her off, leading to Raja and Jinkx performing without her as she retched in the dressing room toilet. All she had to do was say she had a bug, and they left it at that. Even when she seemed fine, they didn’t ask. Sharon was glad for that. When she flat-out refused to perform the next night, they shrugged and assumed she was still wobbly.

And last - but worst of all - it wasn’t physically going away. The damned thing was slowly becoming more visible, and she had begun to notice it.

The final Supermodels show had come upon them, and Sharon decided she couldn’t miss it for the world. It was a Saturday; in just four short days, her friends would be jetting off to begin the next chapter of their lives, leaving her to figure out how she would handle the next chapter of her own. Despite her anxiety and nausea, Sharon was resolute. She was going to do the show.

A full length mirror stood before her. They had decided, for their grand ‘going away’ performance, they would break out the showy little number they reserved for special occasions. Each of them had a specific colour dress - Sharon in blue, Raja in orange and Jinkx in green - which reached about mid-thigh and clung tight. There was a zip at the back and sequins bedazzling the entire outfit. It was beautiful.

It was also too small.

Sharon had always been slim. Growing up with her strict mother, who was always the type to belittle her for eating too much, she had been spindly and wiry for most of her childhood. As she’d gotten older, she’d grown a little curvier - not as curvy as Jinkx, but not as skinny as Raja. Either way, she had always been a slim girl. But now she was changing, and rapidly.

“Damn, girl! You could take somebody’s eyes out with those!” Jinkx had joked earlier that evening, gesturing at Sharon’s chest. That was worrying enough, but it only increased when she tried the fucking dress on.

It would not zip. The tiny zip went over her thighs, just towards her hips, and then stopped. No amount of force could tug it upwards, no matter how hard she tried. The little tell-tale tummy she’d acquired was making sure of that. Against her better judgement, she tried to suck it in, but to no avail. The curve of her tummy remained, the zip stayed stuck.

Examining herself in the mirror, Sharon frowned. Her chest felt tight. Her own body felt alien, as though it didn’t belong to her. Instead it belonged to that thing, the thing taking up residence inside her.

Sharon mustered as much courage as she could simply to open her mouth. It took a few seconds for the words to follow.

“Hey I… I don’t think I’m gonna do the show tonight. You girls go ahead without me.”

It was pathetic, how shaky and unsure she sounded. Raja and Jinkx’s fluid conversation about whether they should ever switch up the colour scheme silenced immediately, and Sharon cursed herself. It was the last show the girls might ever get to do in their current states, their final goodbye to this part of their lives. They couldn’t just do it without her.

Jinkx sounded hurt. “We’re a trio! We can’t be The Supermodels if we’re a duo!”

“Just do it!” Sharon snapped, her voice shrill. Reality was falling onto her shoulders, crushing her beneath its weight, and the fear of change had encapsulated her heart. If they carried on asking questions, she would have to tell them, and if she had to tell them then she had to acknowledge that it was happening, and she really really really was not ready to acknowledge what was happening.

At her tone, Raja’s voice softened. “Still not feeling good, darling?” She asked. She sounded almost motherly, tinged with the care and love Sharon knew she wouldn’t get from her own mother. “It’ll pass, I promise.”

Sharon sighed. “Yeah. B-But it’s not just that.”

“What else is stopping you?” She pressed, gently.

All at once, everything that was stopping her seemed to form an avalanche of emotion, crushing her chest and squeezing her ribcage until she could do nothing but break. Tears began brimming in Sharon’s eyes, slowly enough that it gave Jinkx and Raja time to edge forwards until they were just behind her screen.

“My… my dress. It doesn’t… fit, anymore.” Sharon sniffed, trying to hold back the steadily increasing stream of her tears with little success. Every fibre of her being didn’t want to tell them, didn’t want to have to acknowledge it, but there was no avoiding it now.

Sharon covered her face as they joined her, all three staring into the same mirror. Her vision was blurred from the tears, and she felt Raja’s hand on her exposed back, where the dress should’ve been zipped. Each of them just stared, not sure what to say, not wanting to assume the obvious.

“Take it off, sweetie,” Jinkx instructed softly, moving to assist Raja in unzipping the dress and letting Sharon step out of it. “That’s it, you’re okay.”

In just her underwear, Sharon felt more exposed than ever. There was no hiding her secret from her friends anymore, no convenient bags or flowy shirts to obscure it from sight. The tears slowed a little, allowing her a shaky view of herself in the mirror. Jinkx and Raja clung to her as if trying to keep her in one piece, seeming to sense how close she was to collapsing.

“Fucking Justin.” Raja cursed, quietly. “He did this to you.”

Sharon pushed down the doubts in her mind, the subtle suggestion that maybe this wasn’t him. She knew it was likely, but she knew there were two other candidates who she could never mention.

“I know,” She breathed. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jinkx bit her lip. “You can either keep it or… not.”

“I’m not ready to make that choice.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.” Raja butted in, her tone fierce and her eyes flaming. “He should’ve been more careful, he shouldn’t have let this fucking happen to you!”

“It takes two, Raj!” Sharon found herself almost shouting. “It wasn’t just him! This isn’t his fault.”

In a moment of confusing, blind anger, Sharon stormed away from her friends to gather her regular clothes, tired of feeling vulnerable and naked. The tension in the dressing room had quickly become thick enough to cut, as it became clear that neither of the three girls knew how to react to the situation they were confronted with.

“Why are you defending him? You should be furious. This is huge.” Raja changed her tone, suddenly solemn and serious.

Sharon sighed. “Don’t you see? I have nothing to be furious at. Justin’s gone, he doesn’t know anything about this. I can’t get mad at him for something he knows nothing about.” She paused. “And… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair to get mad at…”

Her throat closed up. Jinkx, her eyes welling up with tears, rushed over and nearly toppled her with the force of her bear hug.

“The baby.” She supplied, tearfully saying what Sharon didn’t seem to be able to do. “You can’t be furious at a baby.”

Immediately after, the mood of the room seemed to shift. Everything was out in the open now. Jinkx had delivered the bomb they were all waiting for, and now they had to discuss the fallout.

“The baby,” Raja repeated, seemingly awestruck. “Oh my god, there’s a baby.” 

Sharon wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if to hide it. “There’s a baby.”

She told them as much as she could bear; the nights with Justin, the bouts of sickness and the strange dreams, how she had taken the test in Raja’s house and kept up the smiles as her world crashed down at her feet. Now that she was confessing it all to her friends, she felt bad for being so secretive. Part of her knew she should tell them about the other potential fathers, but for the sake of her own dignity she decided against it. They, of course, would never shame her, but she saw no sense in naming the two men that her friends would never meet. It was best not to overcomplicate things. After all, it was difficult enough with a baby.

“It’s okay, though,” Raja was saying, back to business as usual. “I’ll book you in with my doctor, darling, she’s fantastic. She does confidentiality like it’s nobody’s business, literally. Never told a soul when I had that STI test. Which, by the way, was negative because I’m clean.”

Her intelligent, abrupt nature was already doing wonders for Sharon’s peace of mind. Raja was always good at sorting through the bullshit - sometimes lacking in tact, but with a kind heart determined to fix each and every problem she encountered. 

“I can’t afford your doctor, Raj.” Sharon told her. “I don’t have any money of my own. And there’s no way my mom can pay without asking what it’s for and then finding out.”

Raja rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, Needles. I’m paying for the doctor, shut up.”

“You don’t ha-”

“Bitch, I said shut up. I’m paying for it. It’s not an offer or an obligation, I’m just doing it.”

She blew a kiss and stepped out of the dressing room as Sharon giggled weakly. Jinkx kissed her temple.

“Whatever decision you make, we’re with you the whole way.” She promised. “And we would be great aunties.”

Sharon nodded. “I don’t know what I’ll choose yet. Maybe I should just… give the thing up for adoption. I’d be a terrible mother. I don’t exactly have the best role model.”

Jinkx scoffed. “Be your own role model.” She shrugged. “If you decide to keep the baby, who’s to say you’d be a bad mom? I think you’d be amazing. It’s about love, not being perfect. And I know you have a lot of love in you.”

In some ways, Sharon appreciated Jinkx’s gentle, caring instincts more than her sly sense of humour. It was a relief to have a friend that she could laugh with and cry with, who would hold her tightly and work through her emotions until she could stand on her own two feet again. She had a feeling that, depending on the choice she made, their support would be all that she had to keep herself going.

Raja reappeared. “I cancelled the show. Let’s get you out of here.”

-

Two major changes had taken over Sharon’s life, and she finally felt prepared to face them. The morning, as she knew, would be difficult - she would be seeing off her friends in their brand new beginning and then getting ready to face her own. None of her decisions had been easy, but she felt that they were the best ones she could make.

Surprisingly, as she lingered at the top of the staircase, trying to fill herself with the confidence to walk past her mom and out of the door, she found that the old fear that used to gnaw at her was ebbing away. The heavily-adorned crosses all over the walls judged her and she judged them back, wondering how a woman who believed so deeply in a man dying for their sins could be so against love and acceptance. The so-called mother she had grown up with was nothing more than a bully using the cover of religion as a defense, and Sharon wasn’t going to be afraid of her anymore.

She headed downstairs.

“I’m going out,” She called into the kitchen. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to dash from the kitchen to the front door, and her mom soon confronted her.

“No you’re not, young lady.” She admonished. Her hands were covered in flour, leaving white marks all over her sensible floral dress. “The church bake sale is today and I told them we would be there to help sell everything. You’ve been slacking again, Sharon, and I won’t have it.”

All of her confidence gathered from moments ago deflated like a sad balloon. Still, Sharon stood fast. “Well, you’re gonna have to tell them they’re down a member, because I’m not going.”

Her mom narrowed her eyes. “Don’t argue with me. You know what I can do.”

“You can’t do shit to me.” Sharon bit back. “I’m going to see off Raja and Jinkx, they’re leaving today. That’s that.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Her mom replied, taking a step closer. Instinctively, Sharon took one back. “I slave away to make sure you have a home, food, a good Christian upbringing and a decent education, and what do I get in return? I get your rudeness, your attitude.”

Sharon tried to interject, but there was no stopping her.

“I give you a home, you’re never here. I feed you, you don’t eat it. I diligently take you to church and you swear and sin like a heathen, purposely embarrassing me when all I do is try and do my best for you. You didn’t try at school, and now you’re wasting your time on sin and recreation even when I try to offer alternatives. So I have to discipline you, and then you think I’m evil. I’m not evil, I’m not disgraceful. You are. You’re a selfish daughter.”

Already, Sharon could tell things were going to go from bad to worse. The morning had barely started and they were already getting into a heavy argument that she knew would end in disaster.

“I’m selfish? Because you like to hit me?” She asked, in disbelief. “Do you think I enjoyed telling my teachers that my bruises were from me being some kind of fucking idiot, because you told me you’d do it again if I told them the truth? Because I didn’t fucking enjoy that, mother.”

“Don’t use that vile language, Sharon. It’s unbecoming of a young lady, as far from one as you might be.” Her mom hissed. “I don’t enjoy hitting you. I do what’s necessary to keep you in line. Our Lord told us to discipline our children. All I ever try to do is his bidding. All you care about are disgusting words and disgusting sins.”

All at once, a surge of white-hot anger lacerated Sharon’s body, releasing the boldness that Raja and Jinkx had always urged her to use. “Oh, fuck you and your shitty religion. Fuck you, fuck God, fuck Dad for never being here. His shitty missionary activism means nothing. All you care about is that everyone follows your fucking Bible and you focus so much on the lives of innocent strangers that you don’t even notice the shit happening right in front of your own eyes!”

She was pacing now, trying to rid herself of the all-consuming frenetic energy. “Fuck you. I’m not the selfish one, you are.”

Her outburst would not go unpunished. As she had seen many times before, her mom’s eyes flashed dangerously. It was as if all at once, her kindly Christian mother facade had melted away, flickering back to reveal her twisted reality. Though physically, nothing changed besides the clenched jaw and closed fist, Sharon suddenly saw her through the lens of her childhood fears. She was eight feet tall, laughing maliciously, her hands slowly raising upwards as she prepared to deliver a menacing blow. It would leave bruises that she should be ashamed of, for the abusive monster had won again and again.

Not again.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch me!” Sharon yelled. Her eyes were filled with furious tears. “I will never let you treat me like a doormat ever again. I will never let you abuse me in the name of your fucking God. This isn’t just about me anymore, which you would know if you fucking paid attention to the child you pretend to love.”

Without even realising, Sharon cupped her hands over her stomach. Somewhere in there, tucked away in the small bump she could feel beneath her fingers, she knew her baby was rooting for her.

“You disgust me.”

Her mom’s tone was much quieter, the fiery, destructive anger replaced with the slow black smoke that lingered afterwards. It was tinged with loathing, telling of her honest reaction to the news. Somewhat calmed - unbelievably - by the feeling of the bump in her hands, Sharon closed her eyes.

“Mom, please.”

Anything else she wanted to say to defend herself dissipated. Her mom’s sheer hatred silenced her before she could even process her own thoughts.

“Seventeen?!” She exclaimed, incensed, and threw her hands up in the air. “And I did everything right, too. I was a good Catholic mother. Lord, what did I do to deserve a slut for a daughter?!”

Despite everything, it still felt like a punch in the gut to hear such scathing words from the only person who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Sharon had known she would react explosively, but it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

“Mom, I-”

The woman stood before her pursed her lips, perfectly still. Her gaze was livid, her body stiff with rage. She looked at Sharon as though she were scum, a piece of dirt, a blight on her picture perfect life.

“I didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“You didn’t raise me at all!” Sharon bit back. “You were never here for me. You’re a shitty mother!”

“I’m not your mother.” She delivered the final blow in a low voice. “No daughter of mine would turn out to be a whore. A slut. You’re on your own.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sharon raised her chin as high as she could. “Good riddance. This is the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“Get out of my house.”

Carrying only an old diary and an album full of photos with her, Sharon crossed the threshold of her front door for the last time, and heard it slam behind her. There was no going back now.

“We’re gonna be okay, you and me,” She whispered, her head hung low. “We’ll build a life together. I’ll be a good mom, I swear. I’ll show you just how much I love you, every day.”

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

Angel and Cordelia (Cangel) - an in-depth analysis of their relationship

Angel and Cordelia are a ship I never expected to ship before watching Angel, but since finishing the show around November, I’ve fallen in love with them (and the show generally) and wanted to compile a post where I could express all my thoughts and feelings about them. This meta will be very in-depth and is divided into 9 sections: 

1. ‘Pensiver Face’: Opposites Attract - Will explore Angel and Cordelia’s personalities and the ways in which these two unlikely characters came together and brought out new and wonderful sides to each other. 

2. ‘Help the Helpless’: Finding purpose - Discusses the way in which Angel and Cordelia found purpose in their lives through meeting and the creation of Angel Investigations.

3. ‘We’re family’: Belonging and Family - Insight into how Angel and Cordelia created a family and home with each other that provided them with a sense of belonging (perhaps for the first time in their lives).

4. ‘My Dearest Friend’: Friendship and Love - Looks at Angel and Cordelia’s friendship and how that was at the core of their relationship throughout the series.

5. ‘You’re not alone’: Emotional connection - Uncovers the profound emotional connection Angel and Cordelia established with each other.

6. ‘It’s the stars’: Everyone can see it - Reflects on the common ‘Everyone can see it’ trope and how that was important to Angel and Cordelia’s relationship.

7. ‘Were we in love?’: Romantic love - An exploration of when and how Angel and Cordy’s romantic feelings for each other developed.

8. ‘I’ll be seeing you’: Missed Opportunity - Analyses the writing in seasons 4 and 5, and the ways in which Angel and Cordelia’s relationship was hugely disadvantaged by the writing.

9. ‘There are no people like us’: Why Angel/Cordelia are misunderstood and live in Buffy/Angel’s shadow - Unpicks some of the common misconceptions I’ve seen about Angel and Cordy’s relationship and the how comparisons made between their relationship and Buffy and Angel’s is unfair and does a disservice to both couples. 

As you can see, section 9 does discuss Buffy and Angel, because I really couldn’t discuss Angel and Cordelia without also talking about Angel’s relationship with Buffy since she was so significant to Angel. It won’t be anti-Buffy/Angel (because I’m a huge Bangel shipper, as anyone that follows me will know), but I just wanted to give a warning for those that are a big fan of the ship as you might not want to read. However, the primary focus throughout will be on Angel and Cordelia’s relationship on ATS (I don’t really give much focus to BTVS since their interactions were so brief and lacking).

Before we get into it, I wanted to say this post is long, (coming in at around 9k words, whew! I had more to say than I realised), so if you’re interested in reading you might want to grab a drink or a snack and make yourself comfortable. 

1. ‘Pensiver Face’: Opposites Attract

What makes Angel and Cordelia’s relationship so special is that it’s between two unlikely characters who, on the surface are polar opposites, but that compliment each other beautifully. Cordelia was specifically chosen to be a regular on ATS because she was the opposite to Angel - Whedon stated that Cordelia’s bright smile was needed to counteract Angel’s broody persona (x). The fundamental differences in Angel and Cordelia’s personalities meant that together they brought out different sides to each other. Angel was known for being reserved, contemplative, melancholy, deep and pessimistic, whilst in contrast Cordelia was known for being outgoing, bubbly, outspoken, shallow and optimistic.

Both characters came to ATS season 1 displaying these characteristics which they were well-known for on BTVS, but through meeting each other, they changed. Angel smiled more with Cordelia than arguably any other character in the Buffyverse (x) (x) (x) (x). Her infectious personality, witty sense of humour and straight-talking attitude coaxed him out of his shell. Also, because he was more submissive by nature, Angel responded to Cordelia’s assertiveness - she wasn’t afraid to take charge, call him out on things, make demands of him and ensure he stayed on the right path. She was the one that took charge of the business, launching Angel Investigations from practically nothing; she persuaded Angel that he should pay Gunn for working with them; she didn’t easily relent after he fired her, Wesley and Gunn; she told him he needed to set boundaries with Fred when she had a crush on Angel to prevent Fred from getting hurt; she held him accountable for getting Darla pregnant in season 3; she consistently encouraged him to fight for Connor no matter how hopeless or difficult it became and even in her brief return in season 5 she continued with this pattern. She straight up told Angel that he’d lost his way, lost sight of their mantra to help the helpless and had become entangled in the messiness of W&H. In doing so, she set Angel back on the right path. It’s strange because generally people view Angel as having more positive traits than Cordelia, but despite his good intentions, he was more prone to giving up and wallowing than Cordelia. Angel was more malleable, more willing to accept the bad in the world whilst Cordelia, on the other hand, persevered no matter what obstacles came her way and was firm in her morals. She knew what she believed to be good and she didn’t stray from that no matter what. That clear-cut attitude really helped Angel, who being a vampire and having seen so much evil, often become lost in the blurriness between good and evil, and became disheartened about fighting the good fight on numerous ocassions. Cordelia was truly Angel’s centre of gravity and moral compass - she was the one he relied on most in his redemptive journey and helping the helpless. That’s why throughout the series there was such a heavy emphasis on Angel needing Cordy (x) and why he proclaimed to be lost without her. Angel needing Cordelia was also demonstrative of a deeper emotional connection between them, which I’ll discuss later on.

Whilst Angel and Cordelia’s differences helped/changed Angel, they did the same for Cordy. Cordelia as a person was very focused on superficial gratification. She sought popularity and status, and she enjoyed money and material objects because of the pleasure they brought her. Her desire to become an actress reflects those desires she had. Although Cordelia demonstrated on BTVS that she was much more than the stereotypical popular-shallow girl she was portrayed to be (x), she wasn’t inclined to be considerate of others and empathy didn’t come naturally to her. In comparison, Angel spent a majority of his time thinking of others and had a wealth of empathy, for everybody regardless of whether they were those he loved or strangers; good or bad. There’s no doubt that the visions were a large part of what enabled Cordelia to be more empathetic since she was quite literally experiencing the traumas of others, but being close to Angel also impacted this. Until Cordelia became friends with Angel (and Doyle, Wes and Gunn), she’d never really been prioritised or cared for unconditionally. Angel’s kindness, consideration and support enabled Cordelia to open up emotionally in a way she never had before, not just to those closest to her, but to everybody. Ironically, a vampire (albeit a vampire with a soul) was the deepest insight Cordelia had gained into humanity. Angel devoted himself to helping others and Cordelia witnessed first-hand the positive impact that had on others and the rewards it brought. Whilst she fought against evil alongside the Scoobies on BTVS, it was being part of Angel Investigations that truly showed her the true meaning of fighting. It gave her purpose and belonging, which in turn allowed her to blossom in an entirely new way.

2. ‘Help the Helpless’: Finding purpose

Despite being different in many ways, Angel and Cordelia had one main thing in common - they were both seeking purpose, meaning and belonging in their lives at the start of ATS  - and they found that with each other.

On BTVS Angel went through a traumatic ordeal with losing his soul, being killed by the woman he loved, being trapped in a hell dimension, coming back to life and then having to break up with Buffy. After Angel was cursed and his soul was restored, he retreated into the shadows and lived like a hermit for a century. He no longer belonged in the vampire or the human world, and he was so consumed with the guilt about his actions as Angelus that he was paralysed. He lived a lonely and purposeless existence - until the moment he saw Buffy. Buffy symbolised hope for Angel, because she was destined to fight evil and helping her provided him with a purpose for the first time in decades and I strongly believe that this (amongst other reasons) is why he fell in love with her. So when he split up with her and left for L.A. he lost his purpose along with Buffy. It’s clear that Angel’s time with Buffy and the Scoobies had been so significant to him that he couldn’t return to the life he had before he met Buffy, he needed to continue helping people, but he didn’t know how. Meeting Doyle immediately provided him with a sense of purpose by providing him with a connection to the HP, but as I already mentioned above, Cordelia really cemented that. Although Doyle knew he and Angel had a mission that they needed to work on together, he didn’t know how to make that a reality. Cordelia’s practicality, pragmatism and organisation is what took an idea - helping the helpless - and made it a reality - Angel Investigations. Like I said, Angel knew he wanted to help others but he didn’t really have a plan. When Angel Investigations was born, it became so much more than simply helping the odd person in distress after having stumbled upon them by chance. It became an indefinite commitment and mission which provided Angel with a true purpose - a purpose he realised was the singular most important thing to him in ‘Epiphany’ (2x16).

Cordelia was also in a similar place to Angel when she arrived in L.A. at the start of ATS. During her time on BTVS Cordelia’s character was built upon her status in high-school - she was pretty, rich and popular. Although she wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed in (such as defending Xander against her HS friends), she generally sought the approval of others. In HS Cordelia felt that she was somebody and that really came from her popularity and status. However, she admitted that that popularity came with a downside and that she was in fact, very lonely as a result of it (x). Cordelia’s experience in her relationship with Xander only fuelled that loneliness she felt because she isolated herself from her friends to be with him, and when he cheated on her, her ‘friendships’ with the rest of the Scoobies were revealed to be superficial in nature and quickly broke down. By the time she came to ATS, she had left high school and therefore was without her boyfriend (Xander), friends and the status that HS afforded her. This explains why she was on a mission to become a famous actress - to reclaim that status that she’d lost but on an even grander scale. The problem with this is that regardless of how shallow Cordy may have appeared, she clearly craved more than just popularity, fame or money. She’d already had that but it hadn’t  fulfilled her. Enter Angel. Cordelia saw that Angel (and Doyle) needed guidance and that she could bring something important to the table. When she joined Angel and Doyle and set up Angel Investigations, she found her purpose just like Angel did. Initially, Cordelia’s desire to stick with Angel may have been because she didn’t have any other particularly appealing options, but it became so much more than that and by the end of season 1 Cordelia was wholly devoted to helping the helpless (x). In ‘Disharmony’ (2x17) she told Harmony that despite the popularity she had at HS, she was happier than she’d ever been because of the work she was doing, and having that sense of purpose came from meeting Angel. ‘Birthday’ (3x11) further reaffirmed this, when Cordelia chose being with Angel and helping the helpless over her dream of being a famous actress. 

The creation of Angel Investigations (not just the business but also the family) wouldn’t have happened if Angel and Cordelia hadn’t of come together in the way they did. From the beginning, they were the heart of everything it was and when Angel lost Cordy in season 5, he admitted that he lost his way and was lost without her (again, this beckons back to Cordy being Angel’s centre of gravity). Poetically, Cordelia kissing Angel in ‘You’re Welcome’ (5x11) and passing on the vision to him quite literally set Angel (and co.) on the path to their final battle and brought purpose back into his life. But in addition to bringing purpose to each other’s lives through their shared mission of helping the helpless, they brought something else, perhaps more significant - belonging and family.

3. ‘We’re family’: Belonging and Family

Although Angel and Cordelia had bonds with others prior to ATS - Angel had relationships with Darla, Dru, Spike, Buffy; Cordelia with Harmony, Xander and the Scoobies - they never had with anyone else what they found with each other (and the rest of Angel Investigations) (x). In season 1 Cordelia referred to Angel as being her family and Angel reiterated that later in the series. The unconditional support, acceptance and care Angel and Cordelia had towards one other was unlike anything they’d had in any of their previous relationships (particularly for Cordelia).

Angel prioritised Cordelia, he devoted himself to keeping her safe (x) (x), he was always concerned for her well-being and he took the time to get to know her as a person. He didn’t like Cordy because of her status or popularity, he liked her for her and he expressed that numerous times - he told her he liked both versions of her (old and new), that she was an extraordinary woman and that he’d never known anybody like her (x) (x). Likewise, Cordelia accepted Angel - warts and all - without white washing his past or being ignorant to his darkness. She knew Angelus had done terrible things, and that Angel wasn’t immune from making mistakes and she held him accountable for that. But she also encouraged Angel to be open with her about that side of himself, telling him to drink blood in front of her and reassuring him that she and Doyle wouldn’t judge his vamp face (x). Cordelia came face to face with Angelus multiple times and she knew that even with a soul Angel had the capacity for darkness, but she still saw the good in him and believed it out-weighed the bad. She was never under any false illusions that Angel was perfect and that’s why she was firm in her promise that if needs be she would stake Angelus without hesitation.

It’s really that unconditional support and acceptance that led them to consider each other family. What’s most significant about this is that neither of them really had that before ATS. Angel (Liam) grew up in a volatile family situation with an abusive father and Cordelia’s family was so insignificant in her life that we only had a few references to them throughout the course of BTVS and ATS and not a single appearance from them. Neither of them really had a true home or family until they found each other. The friendship they found with each other (and the rest of Angel Investigations) truly was one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to either of them and provided them with a true home for the first time in their lives. In fact, in season 4 Angel explicitly said when Cordelia was missing “We’ll do whatever it takes to bring her home, where she belongs”, which perfectly sums up the title for this section about belonging and family. The bond they forged was one of the first they established with another that felt completely secure and contented (which is also why Cordelia reacted so negatively to him abandoning her, Wes and Gunn in season 2 over Darla), because at it’s core it was a friendship built upon familial love, which in my opinion, is the strongest and most enduring love there is.

4. ‘My Dearest Friend’: Friendship and Love

The most common argument I’ve seen against Angel and Cordelia as a romantic ship is, “They should’ve just stayed friends, they were better that way”. My issue with this is that Angel and Cordelia didn’t just fulfil one or the other - friendship or romance - they fulfilled both and so much more (x). What makes Angel and Cordelia’s relationship so special is that they morphed from acquaintances, to coworkers, to confidantes, to friends, to family, to lovers and were often some (or all) of these things to each other at once. Their feelings for each other cannot be boxed in, because they encompass so much, but there is no disputing that they loved each other.

Angel and Cordy had a profound connection spanning across the entirety of ATS, that no amount of words I type can quite express. They were a constant presence in each others’ lives for years, they were by each others’ sides through some of the most significant events of their lives and they shared it all - the highs and lows, the good and bad. Even when their romantic feelings came into fruition, their friendship remained unchanged. Nothing could change that fundamental dynamic between them or the ease with which they communicated and bounced off of one another. Any scene between Angel and Cordy has a natural chemistry (the nature of that chemistry is up to interpretation), and even when Angel was a awkward, bumbling and flustered fool, their interactions never felt strained or uncomfortable. This is because they knew each other so well and were so attuned to each other, but also because their relationship was already so well established by the time they realised they had romantic feelings for each other that there was no danger of those feelings complicating or endangering that friendship. It’s why in ‘Spin the Bottle’ (4x06) Angel told Cordelia that she was his dearest friend and he wanted that back. He was able to push aside his romantic feelings and desires because her friendship was more important to him than anything else.

Some may claim it’s weird for two people who referred to each other as family to be in love with each other, but when you’re in love with someone they are your family. The fact that Angel and Cordelia had that kind of connection provided them with the closeness, comfortableness, familiarity and security for those romantic feelings to blossom. Angel, in particular, had an aversion to romance because of The Curse and his experience with Buffy, but he felt so safe with Cordelia that it’s almost like he allowed himself to feel that way about him. Likewise, Cordelia was rather guarded in matters of the heart given her romantic history with Xander, but she felt so safe with Angel that she was able to finally open herself up in that way without even really realising she was. That profound connection between them can’t really be quantified, but can be seen in their actions.

5. ‘You’re not alone’: Emotional connection

When I say that it would do them a disservice to try and box Angel and Cordelia’s relationship into the platonic or romantic arena, that’s because of the emotional connection they shared which extends beyond such labels.

According to Wiki, ‘Emotional intimacy is a psychological event that happens when trust levels and communication between two people are such that it fosters the mutual sharing of one another's deepest selves.’ It involves trust, mutual trust, sense of community, understanding, open communication and sharing a duty. As you read this I’m sure you’re realising that Angel and Cordelia had all of this. They lived in close proximity day after day for years - they worked together, they fought together, they laughed together, they loved the same people (Doyle, Wes, Gunn, Fred, Connor), they grieved together (for Doyle and Connor), they shared the same beliefs and morals and they were united in the same mission to help the helpless. All of this led to them developing a profound emotional connection whereby they came to rely on each other and trust each other, and were able to open up to each other without fear of judgement or rejection (x). Throughout the series Angel and Cordy had multiple heart to hearts in which they confided in each other, encouraged or reassured each other and those talks became more regular as their connection grew. Something as simple as Angel calling Cordelia ‘Cordy’ (which he didn’t do until ATS ‘Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?’ 2x02) demonstrated that developing connection between them.

Again, it would be futile for me to list every example of when Angel and Cordelia had a scene that showed this emotional connection (particularly since you’ll have seen them all if you’ve watched the show), but off the top of my head some key examples would be - Cordelia helped Angel open up about Doyle’s death after Angel accidentally called Wesley Doyle; Cordelia helped Angel to open up about Buffy’s death after he’d spent 3 months trying to come to terms with it; when Cordelia fell ill from a vision Angel reassured her that her value to him wasn’t invested solely in her visions; generally Angel supported Cordelia repeatedly through the trauma of her visions; after Connor was born Angel developed an overly-protective paternal instinct and wouldn’t let anybody hold him, and Cordelia was the first he allowed to hold him; after Connor’s kidnapping Cordelia was able to simply sit with him in the silence and provide the emotional support no one else could and when Angel was insecure about bonding with Connor (after his return) she reassured him he was a capable and loving father. 

Nothing showed the depth of that emotional connection more than the beginning of season 4 when Angel was at the bottom of the ocean. In order to hold on to his sanity, Angel repeatedly dreamt of Cordelia in various romantic scenarios and admitted to Wes and Gunn when he returned that the one thing that had kept him holding on was the thought of returning home to Cordelia. Cordy and his love for her was the tether to his humanity, his hope when everything was hopeless, his light in the dark. 

I could continue exploring this because their emotional connection is demonstrated in nearly every scene they have together, but the point has been made that Angel and Cordelia consistently opened up to one another and were by each other’s sides through the hardest of times. Although they both had the rest of Angel Investigations (Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne), they primarily turned to each other in their time or need or when they were feeling low. They instinctively knew what to do/say to ease each other’s insecurities, fears or anxieties and were each other’s source of emotional strength. What’s even more significant about this is that their connection was so profound, that even those around them noticed it. 

6. ‘It’s the stars’: Everyone can see it

‘Everyone can see it’ is a popular romantic trope whereby a couple are perfect for each other but don’t realise their feelings for one another, but everyone else around them does. This was an integral part of Angel and Cordelia’s relationship since they found it very difficult, as friends, to make sense of their romantic feelings for each other and to acknowledge those feelings.

The first person to notice the chemistry between Angel and Cordelia was Fred in ‘Offspring’ (3x07). After seeing them sparring Fred spoke about kyrumption (two heroes meeting in battle and recognising their same fate) and moira (the gut physical attraction between two larger-than-life souls). Angel’s feelings for Cordelia had already been present long before then, but Fred’s observations provided him with an opportunity to acknowledge them for the first time and reflect on them. 

Lorne being an empath naturally had an insight into Angel’s feelings and in ‘Waiting in the Wings’ (3x13) he revealed that he’d read Angel and knew he had feelings for Cordelia. Like Fred, he also spoke of kyrumption and told Angel that the way he was feeling for Cordelia was real. Lorne consistently was attuned to Angel’s feelings for Cordelia and understood that they’d grown beyond friendship. He also actively encouraged Angel to act on them because he believed Cordelia felt the same way about him and he shouldn’t miss the chance to see what they could be. 

I watched ‘Waiting in the Wings’ with commentary from Whedon last week and in that he explained that the spell was a way for Angel and Cordelia to act on the feelings they had for each other (that they were only just starting to realise) in a way whereby they didn’t actually have to admit that they had those feelings and wanted to act on them (because they were afraid of the consequences). Fred and Lorne’s observations are very much the same - they’re a conduit through which Angel was able to internally explore his growing romantic feelings for Cordy and slowly come to the realisation that he was in love with her. 

7. ‘Were we in love?’: Romantic love

Although I’ve been primarily focused on the general connection between Angel and Cordelia and what they brought to each other’s lives, there was definitely romantic love and attraction between the two of them and it’s important to discuss that.

I think when people compare Angel and Cordy’s relationship to Angel’s relationship with Buffy people feel Angel’s love for Cordelia wasn’t romantic or passionate, but it was, it’s just that the love he had for Cordy and their relationship was so fundamentally different from his relationship with Buffy that the two can’t really be compared. Buffy was Angel’s epic, great love - it consumed him from the inside out, it was intense, passionate and devastating - but Cordy was something entirely different. She wasn’t supposed to be some big epic love, she was supposed to be a friend with whom he developed a strong bond with and slowly came to fall in love with over time. Their love wasn’t characterised by angst-ridden scenes, grand speeches of forbidden love and sexual tension - it was grounded in family, friendship and emotional connection (as I’ve explored above). Their feelings for each other weren’t sudden and didn’t start out big (they truly were just acquaintances at the start of ATS season 1), but as they spent time together, shared experiences and got to know each other, their romantic feelings quietly grew in the background until neither of them could ignore it anymore.

It’s frustrating that we never got a clear admission of love between the two (all of their love confessions were to other people or cut off before they finished), but there is no doubt in my mind that Angel and Cordelia were in love. Their actions proved that and from a personal perspective, I could feel the love between them. Everyone will have different interpretations of when they believe the pair fell in love, but interestingly, I don’t think there’s supposed to be ‘one moment’ that they fell in love, because the whole point of their relationship is that it was never that clear cut. They didn’t go to bed one night as best friends and wake up the next day a think, “I’m in love with Angel/Cordelia!”. It was a subtle evolution of feelings over time, which neither of them truly noticed until it was brought to their attention by others, because they were so used to being friends and navigating within the realms of that, that they didn’t consider the possibility that their feelings could have gone beyond that.

Since ATS was primarily focused on Angel’s POV, it’s very easy to follow Angel’s evolving feelings for Cordelia and attempt to pin-point the moment at which his romantic feelings came to fruition. Like I said, I don’t think there was one particular moment where Angel realised his feelings for Cordelia, but in my opinion, they had definitley developed by ‘Dead End’ (2x18). At the beginning of season 2, Angel had a crisis due to Darla’s return and he fired Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn. It was really the darkest we saw Angel get in ATS whilst he had his soul, he truly lost his way for a while and Cordelia was so hurt and angry by his actions that she couldn’t forgive him. When Angel finally realised he’d made a mistake cutting his friends out of his life, he did everything he could to make amends, but he seemed most affected by the loss of Cordelia’s friendship and he was determined to earn her forgiveness. What’s interesting about this is that at this point one could argue that Angel’s friendship with Cordelia wasn’t that profound and it didn’t particularly matter if they made up, because they still could’ve worked together as co-workers (although it might’ve been a little awkward and uncomfortable). But Angel was adamant that he wanted her friendship back and almost the entirety of ‘Epiphany’ (2x16) was focused on Angel’s desire to make amends with Cordy and his devastation when she refused to accept him back. This continued in ‘Disharmony’ (2x17), with him desperately fighting to earn her forgiveness and ending with him winning Cordelia over by buying her clothes, which he was visibly happy about (x). Angel’s reaction at the prospect of losing Cordelia beckons back to ‘To Shanshu to L.A.’ (1x22) when we witnessed for the first time how scared he was to lose her and also suggests that at this point in season 2 his romantic feelings were developing for her. In the following episode ‘Dead End’ (2x18), he was so focused on making Cordelia feel better (and this was likely a continuation of him making it up to her) that he brought her food and his reaction to her saying she loved him was perhaps the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on Angel’s face (x). In ‘Belonging’ (2x19), Angel’s attraction to Cordelia was made clear when he saw her in a bikini and he also expressed anger at the director of the commercial she was filming for treating her like a ‘commodity’ and a ‘slave’, forcing him to apologise to Cordelia for the way he spoke to her and telling Cordelia he would rip his head off if she wanted him to. When Cordelia was sucked into the portal to Pylea in ‘Over the Rainbow’ (2x20), Angel’s profound emotional connection to Cordelia was clear (x) - he just wanted her back, he didn’t care how or what they had to do and he expressed that he couldn’t lose Cordy again after just getting her back (also that one line, ‘It’s Cordy’, that Angel says to Wesley when he tells Angel it’s too dangerous to go through the portal and they may never get back holds so much emotion). When Cordelia admitted to loving Groo in Pylea, Angel mistakenly thought she was saying it to him and was disappointed to learn otherwise. So basically, by the end of season 2 Angel undoubtedly had romantic feelings for Cordelia, but wasn’t yet aware of them. Season 3 continued to build on that by allowing Angel to heal following Buffy’s death and reach a resolution  in ‘Heartthrob’ (3x01) whereby he could start to process his feelings for Cordy, putting him a situation where he was faced with the prospect of losing her again, therefore cementing the depth of his feelings for her (‘That Vision Thing’ 3x02) and having Fred share her observations about his feelings for her, finally allowing him to fully acknowledge them for the first time. 

From Cordelia’s POV it’s much harder to guess when her romantic feelings for Angel developed, because we didn’t get as much insight into her. I do think her feelings for him didn’t come as soon as Angel’s did for her and neither did the realisation that she felt that way. ‘That Vision Thing’ (3x02) hints that Cordelia’s feelings for Angel may have begun to grow beyond friendship when she said, “If I lose the visions I wouldn't be able to help you anymore. You wouldn't need me.” Notice, Cordelia was concerned with Angel needing her, not the rest of the team. Also, since Angel was so devoted to saving Cordelia and explicitly told her she was more important to him than his vendetta against W&H, we can assume this impacted Cordelia’s feelings towards him since this was perhaps the first time she noticed how committed he was to keeping her safe and how much he wanted her in his life. I also think that witnessing Angel go through the process of becoming a father significantly impacted Cordy’s feelings for Angel. Seeing him take on the role of a father showed an even softer, nurturing side of him and the bond Cordy developed with Connor also brought them closer together. However, ‘Birthday’ (3x11) is the first episode that properly affirms the depth of Cordelia’s feelings for Angel. She was given everything she ever wanted - fame, money, stardom - and she gave it all up to return to Angel. Despite having no memory, upon seeing Angel so broken, Cordelia instinctively leaned in and kissed him fulfilling the old fairy-tale trope of true love’s kiss breaking the spell. I think from Cordelia’s POV, she was much more closed off to allowing herself to acknowledge her romantic feelings for Angel because she didn’t even consider Angel a romantic option given The Curse. This also explains why upon Groo’s return in season 3, she resumed her relationship with him despite having clearly developed profound romantic feelings for Angel that led her to prioritise him above Groo repeatedly to the point that Groo himself noticed that she had feelings for Angel.

This brings me back to the main point about Angel and Cordelia’s romantic feelings for each other never being straightforward or easily defined. In ‘Waiting in the Wings’ (3x13) it was clear - spell or no spell - that Angel and Cordelia shared a mutual sexual attraction and that Angel’s canonically confirmed romantic feelings for Cordelia were reciprocated. Yet Cordelia didn’t confirm her feelings for him explicitly to the audience until 9 episodes later in the finale of the season. This is for a number of reasons, but primarily because it was easier to continue denying their feelings and remain friends than face the complications that a romance posed. Even if they had been given the chance to openly express their feelings for each other, what would’ve happened next? As Angel said to Lorne in ‘Waiting in the Wings’, what could he offer her (as a cursed vampire)? It would’ve been too complicated and they knew that.

That criss-cross and complexity of their love is part of the reason I love them so much, because it’s authentic and relatable. Particularly in the case of friends who have fallen in love - it’s no easy transition and it’s definitely not easy to make sense of your feelings Plus, Angel and Cordy had the added complications that went with their life (Angel being a vampire, The Curse, Darla, their friends, Angel Investigations, W&H and the supernatural world generally, to name a few). In an interview a long time ago SMG said that the most heartbreaking thing about Buffy and Angel was that it was unfulfilled love, and in this respect so are Angel and Cordelia. It’s heartbreaking because they truly loved one another but they were never even given the opportunity to see what they could potentially be. They missed their chance and because of that they were always left wondering ‘what if?’ 

8. ‘I’ll be seeing you’: Missed Opportunity 

The fact that Angel and Cordy never got their shot to be together (which they discussed in ‘You’re Welcome’ 5x11) is the tragedy of their love. However, it wouldn’t be the same love story if it didn’t have that unresolved element to it. Everybody longs for closure and resolution with their ships, but the truth is, in real life few people truly get that, they simply have to move on and live with their regrets. But whilst I love Angel and Cordelia’s relationship and story as it is, there’s no escaping the fact that they were done dirty in seasons 4 and 5 in regards to the writing and as a result their story did go in a...shall we say unfavourable direction? 

Everyone that’s ever watched ATS has problems with season 4 (I could write a separate post about the problems with season 4, particularly in regards to Cordelia’s character), and when it comes to Angel and Cordelia’s relationship, there’s a lot that was handled badly which unfortunately, derailed the beautiful development that took place between them in season 3. We still had a lot of key moments that played out between Angel and Cordelia in season 4, but the main problem with the season is that we don’t actually know when Cordelia was actually Cordelia. At what point was she herself, if she ever was? Did she really have amnesia? If so, can we count amnesia!Cordy as still being Cordy to an extent? When did Jasmine start to take over? Did she have any agency at all when she was possessed by Jasmine, even if it was only the briefest of moments? All of these questions remain unanswered and make it very difficult to fully assess the Angel/Cordelia relationship during season 4, but I’m going to try to anyway. 

What remained clear throughout season 4 was that Angel loved Cordy. In fact, despite Cordelia technically being absent for the majority of the season, it was very Cangel-heavy, perhaps more than the seasons before it. Angel had multiple dreams/fantasies about Cordelia, devoted himself to finding her when she was missing at the start of the season, was visibly distraught to have her lose her memories and strike up a relationship with Connor, and lost his soul from a fantasy of making love to her. In my opinion, this is the season that really affirmed that Angel was in love with Cordy beyond any doubt. When Angel asked Cordelia if they were in love and she replied, “We were”, I strongly believe that was Cordelia. She’d just gotten her memories back so Jasmine hadn’t had chance to worm her way to the forefront yet, and I believe in that moment that was Cordelia finally breaking through and telling Angel that she loved him. Although the circumstances are ambiguous to say the least, I believe this to be the first admission of love exchanged between the two whereby the words were said plainly (because obviously they said ‘I love you’ to each other repeatedly before this moment in other ways). However, this doesn’t undo the dirty that was done to Angel and Cordelia in this season. Despite the fact that we know Cordelia wasn’t responsible for any of her actions since she was possessed by Jasmine, it’s still very hard when watching her with Connor to separate Jasmine from Cordelia. And from Angel’s perspective, he literally watched the woman he loved have sex with his son. Finding out afterwards that it wasn’t actually Cordelia doesn’t reduce the devastating impact of witnessing that and the way the Cordelia!Jasmine arc was written did taint some aspects of their relationship by forcing Angel to have to witness ‘Cordelia’ enter into a romantic relationship with Connor and have a child with him. Also, it was utterly ridiculous and unbelievable that Angel and co. wouldn’t recognise that Cordy wasn’t herself. This is definitely a writing issue, because the whole possession thing was handled so badly in the respect that Cordelia seemed like herself (even her sleeping with Connor was believable due to her amnesiac state), but it was still not in-keeping with the show that none of her friends (and especially Angel) would notice that Cordelia was possessed. Overall, season 4 did a huge disservice to Angel and Cordelia’s romance (although the biggest disservice was definitely done to Cordelia’s character) and whilst their relationship was beautifully developed in seasons 1-3, season 4 stopped that development in its tracks. 

Season 5 continued to do a disservice to Cordelia (and Angel and Cordelia) by practically erasing Cordy from existence (I know that backstage issues with the cast need to be taken into consideration here, but the lack of consideration to Cordelia’s character is still a valid point to discuss). Despite how utterly terrified Angel was whenever faced with the prospect of losing Cordelia, in season 5 he was visibly fine about Cordelia being in a coma and wasn’t even attempting to pull her out of it. The fact that Angel (and co.) would simply stand by and go on with the rest of their lives without devoting every single second to waking Cordy  is ridiculous and completely OOC for all of them. Angel, Wes, Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Cordy were deeply connected and would have done anything for each other, and there’s no way they would’ve given up on Cordy like that. But back to the point, despite Angel being in love with Cordelia throughout season 4, there was no reference to his feelings for her until ‘You’re Welcome’ (5x11). Now, don’t get me wrong, I love that episode and I always will, but I also can’t help but notice how out of place that episode feels within the rest of the season. In the episodes leading up to it Cordelia was barely mentioned and in the episodes afterwards, her death was completely ignored with only a few passing references from Angel near the end of the season (don’t even get me started on the fact that she didn’t even get a funeral. What the hell was that all about?!?!? This is Cordy.) Furthermore, Angel reverted back to being actively in love with Buffy (particularly in ‘The Girl in Question’ 5x20, which is honestly such a bad episode, I can’t even) with no consideration given to the fact that he had feelings for Cordelia. Personally, I believe all of these consistencies come from fan pandering - the reaction to Angel and Cordelia becoming a couple was very negative so they reverted back to the Angel/Buffy relationship because it was so popular and well-loved. But back to, ‘You’re Welcome’, the episode definitely redeemed some of what was done to Cordelia (and her relationship with Angel) by giving her/them a satisfying ending after an horrendous season 4, but nothing can truly make up for the fact that Angel and Cordelia’s relationship was so abruptly ended in the manner it was. It also can’t make up for the fact that we missed out on two entire seasons worth of development that we would’ve potentially got if the Jasmine plot hadn’t taken place (again, I understand this was largely down to behind-the-scenes complications with Charisma and Whedon). 

These flaws in the writing (and execution of the relationship) in seasons 4 and 5 is far and above my biggest criticism of Angel and Cordelia’s relationship as a whole (although it’s a criticism of the writers more so than Cordelia and Angel or David and Charisma). It never would have made sense for Angel and Cordy to have a plain sailing fairy-tale romance, but they had so much more potential and could have grown to become something even more beautiful if season 4 had continued to build upon their development from seasons 1-3. ‘You’re Welcome’ perfectly demonstrates the potential they had and what they could’ve become if Cordelia hadn’t been possessed by Jasmine. And that was only a taster and we could’ve had, we could’ve so much more. In my opinion, there were no limits on where their relationship could have been taken since it was so well written, built-up and established leading up to season 4. The fact that we’ll never know how the relationship would’ve played out if it had continued is sad, but as I said, that missed chance that they had is key to Angel and Cordelia’s relationship. It’s the one that got away, the love that could never be and that one person whom we always wonder, “What if?” about. 

9. ‘There are no people like us’: Why Angel/Cordelia are misunderstood and live in Buffy/Angel’s shadow

The final section I wanted to do is an exploration of the reasons why I feel Cordelia and Angel are misunderstood as a ship and how I believe this primarily stems from the fact that they live in Buffy/Angel’s shadow. This is where I’ll be comparing Angel/Cordelia and Buffy/Angel, so if you’re a fan of Buffy/Angel, you may not want to read this final section. However, this isn’t anti-Buffy/Angel, it’s really me working through my own thoughts and feelings as both a Buffy/Angel and a Angel/Cordelia shipper (yes, we exist haha). 

People have a tendency to make comparisons between the Angel/Cordelia and Buffy/Angel relationship two relationships, when in reality (as I’ve mentioned above) the two aren’t really comparable. Angel’s relationships with Buffy and Cordelia were distinctive, took place under completely different circumstances and brought different things to his life. Angel was fully engaged in a romantic relationship with Buffy for 2 years (on and off), but he never had the opportunity to do that with Cordelia. The romantic feelings were there, as was the potential for them to act on that and see what they could be, but it didn’t happen. So to compare the two relationships (when technically Angel and Cordy never entered into a romantic relationship) is futile to say the least. However, people naturally make those comparisons and when they do they seem to come up with two key reasons Angel/Cordelia are inferior to Buffy/Angel:

1. Sexual relationship/chemistry - It hasn’t escaped my attention that Buffy and Angel have a lot more sexual chemistry than Angel and Cordelia. Honestly, in my opinion, nothing can really compare to SMG/David chemistry, it’s so damn good. However, this criticism simply fails to understand that Angel and Cordelia’s love/connection never was primarily one of a sexual nature (notice that every fantasy Angel ever had of Cordelia was romantic not sexual). Romance was definitely part of their relationship (particularly in seasons 3, 4 and 5) and they had an attraction and they had chemistry (’Waiting in the Wings’ damn well proved that), but their relationship was never about sex. In comparison to Angel and Buffy, their relationship was deeply rooted in attraction. From the moment they meet each other they’re very physically attracted to each other and in seasons 1 and 2 they both make references made to how badly they want to kiss each other whenever they’re together, whilst in season 3 they discuss the difficulties they find in fighting against their sexual attraction to each other. As a result, Angel and Buffy’s relationship was always heavily steeped in sexual tension. The fact that Angel and Cordelia’s relationship didn’t have the same level of sexual attraction doesn’t make that relationship any less important, just different (which I know I keep saying, but it’s kind of my whole argument here - the two relationships are so fundamentally different you can’t compare them). 

2. Buffy is Angel’s one and only true love - There’s no denying that Buffy was and always will be Angel’s great love, but to quote one of my not-so-favourite shows (The Vampire Diaries), contrary to popular belief, people can (and usually do) have more than one great love in their lives. Clinging too tightly to the Buffy/Angel relationship ignores the immense changes Angel undergoes on ATS and the fact he moved on from Buffy (up until Spike’s return in season 5, which reverts him back to being kind of obsessed with Buffy, which is such bad writing and so inconsistent that it annoys me. And this isn’t  including crossovers either, because damn, they’re so problematic/inconsistent and I didn’t even realised until I watched ATS, but I can see now why the writers didn’t want to do too many crossovers despite the fans wanting them). Buffy was always in Angel’s heart and he always carried her with him, but he didn’t actively pine over her or yearn for her when he moved to L.A. (he did more so in season 1 and particularly after the events of ‘I Will Remember You’, but he slowly moved on). Angel conclusively and healthily moved on from Buffy - he established a life for himself which he loved and made him happy, he found a home, friends and embarked on a new love with Cordy. When two people have shared a love like Angel did with Buffy, it never goes away but it does change and it almost grows dormant (for reference, there’s a brilliant meta that discusses Angel moving on from Buffy which you can read here). To use a real life example here, my mom (who’s now 50) has been in around 5 serious long-term relationships in her life and has been with her current partner for 5 years and is completely in love with him. However, she’s openly admitted to me that she loved my dad more than she’s ever loved any man and she still regards him the love of her life. That doesn’t mean she’s still in love with him, because she’s not. She hasn’t seen him in two decades, she’s moved on and she’s found love with someone new. That love she had with him is a memory in her head and her heart, but it has no place in her life now. She’s a different person, her life has changed dramatically and that love is in the past. If he rocked up now he’d be a stranger to her and regardless of those memories she has of him, he’s no longer the person she’s in love with. That’s exactly what happened with Buffy and Angel. They always loved each other, but Angel truly did move forward (whether Buffy moved on is something I’m less unsure of). In ‘Heartthrob’ (3x01) Angel told James that he’d lost the woman he loved (Buffy) and that he had loved her with his whole heart. In response, James said that that couldn’t be true because if it was, when she had died Angel would’ve died along with her. After that, in a scene with Cordy (x), Angel admitted that he was okay and had dealt with Buffy’s death and how he felt guilty about that. In my opinion, this episode (and those scenes in particular) confirmed that Angel had moved on from Buffy and had gotten to a place where he could finally open himself up to Cordelia wholeheartedly. In fact, David spoke about how Angel had moved on from Buffy and that Cordy was what he needed (he also mentioned Darla, which is a topic I won’t get into because I could write an entirely separate post about that too) and here’s what he said: 

Interviewer: Darla killed herself, right? The baby's mother? Who's gonna step up and help Angel raise the baby? Buffy?

David: God, no. Buffy's pretty much out of the picture. They've played their storyline and that's just the past. I think between Cordelia and Fred he'll be mommied to death. But, Buffy's just the past.

Interviewer: Oh, come on. Buffy can never really be just the past, can she? I mean, that's Angel's soulmate.

David: I think Darla was probably his soulmate. I mean, they spent a hundred years together, then made a baby. You can't just--

Interviewer: Well, then Buffy was his first love.

David: Angel was Buffy's first love, but Angel loved Darla in a sick way.

Interviewer: I'm a Buffy/Angel fan. Sorry.

David: You're forgiven. No, I'm just saying that the two shows are on different networks and it's not gonna happen. There's no more story there for those two. Buffy isn't Angel's priority anymore. In season one and two of our show, she was always in the back of his mind, well, now it's all about the baby and Buffy is just, well, she's just a person he used to know.

Interviewer : Awww, come on! The story there was so incredible.

David: And like every good story, it came to an end. And then started over. On. Different. Networks. (again with the emphasis)

Interviewer : Is Angel going to hook up with Cordy?

David: Well, I'm all for it. I don't know what the writers have planned in that regard, but I'm a fan of Charisma's work and I'd love for our characters to be romantically involved. Cordy is really what Angel needs, I believe. (x)

See, it’s important to acknowledge that as amazing as Buffy and Angel’s story was, they broke up and went their separate ways. As David rightfully pointed out, it was the past and Buffy was no longer his priority. It’s always frustrated me that Angel was expected not to move on and to pine for Buffy, whilst Buffy was allowed to move on and find love again. The argument is that Angel was so much older than Buffy that he couldn’t or rather shouldn’t want to find love, whilst Buffy was still young, but the problem is, although Angel was technically old, he was still a teenager himself in terms of his experiences in love. He didn’t have a soul for 100 years so was incapable of love and then he spent 100 years when he had a soul cut off from the world. He had barely experienced anything the world had to offer and he certainly hadn’t had the opportunity to forge connections with others or explore the world of love. Buffy was able to move on from Angel and experience different types of relationships/loves with Parker (urgh), Riley and Spike (amongst others who she flirted with or briefly dated post-BTVS season 3). Angel deserved the same opportunity to experience new types of relationships that were different than the one he had with Buffy. I’m going to use another quote The Vampire Diaries because I feel it sums this up perfectly, “I realised that I may not be able to explain what I feel for her, but it is something, and, yeah, maybe all love isn't true love in the messed up way that you and I have experienced it, but I think this could turn into something even better.” This right here is exactly how I perceive Angel’s feelings for Buffy and Cordelia to be. Angel had only ever loved one person, Buffy was all he’d ever known of love and it was so big, messy and all-consuming , but with Cordelia he realised that love didn’t necessarily have to be like that and that there are different types of love. 

There’s no disputing that Angel never loved Cordelia in the same way he loved Buffy (which this post explains perfectly) - Angel will never love anyone the way he loved Buffy, but he did fall in love with Cordelia and she enriched his life in new ways and filled a void in him in much the same way Buffy did. During ATS Cordelia surpassed Buffy in importance simply because of the place she had in Angel’s life - she was the center of his world and without her it wouldn’t be the same (we saw that in season 5). It would be unfair to claim Angel couldn’t or shouldn’t love someone else just because he had such an intense love with Buffy. What makes his relationship with Cordelia so special is that it was so different than the love he had with Buffy. Those two loves will always sit in contrast to each other, but will never overshadow or replace one another because they’re both significant and special for different reasons. 

The point of talking about this was really just to highlight that Angel and Cordelia’s relationship is not by any means invalid or inferior because of Buffy/Angel. Both relationships are important and exist in contrast to each other. Angel and Cordelia’s relationship does tend to be misunderstood and/or unappreciated due to the nature of the writing (which had a lot of problems in seasons 4 and 5, and even a little in season 3) and because they’re too heavily compared to the hot and heavy romance between Angel and Buffy. However, Angel and Cordelia’s relationship developed organically over time in a subtle way and is demonstrative of how much relationships can evolve as life progresses and circumstances change, and how two people can grow together. Theirs was a story about two people, who in the beginning were indifferent to each other, but grew to know each other profoundly and found a lot through being in each others lives - purpose, belonging, family, friendship and love - and through having and sharing that, they fell in love. It’s not a conventional romantic love as most of us would expect, and they didn’t have the chances to fully explore their romantic connection because their story ended prematurely, but it was a beautiful relationship embedded in human connection and friendship at the deepest and purest level.

If you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading. This took me days and days to write and edit, so I’m really grateful to you for reading and would appreciate likes/reblogs if you found this interesting. I’d also love to hear your thoughts on this topic, so if you have any feel free to stop by my ask box :)

[tumblunni]

My ideas if Wales gets referenced in this new britain region which is probably unlikely but we can hope:

* Another sheep pokemon/a mareep regional variant/just mareep being common over here

* llamhigyn y dwr regional variant of gligar! As a kid i always thought gligar was meant to be one of those! Its a mytholigical flying frog with a scorpion tail, and really the only reason i dont think gligar is based on it is because its ground instead of water type. Like its really specifically similar right down to the wings being webs under the arms!

* Welsh Lady pokemon! (The traditional costume kids wear at eisteddfods)

* Maybe instead some sort of legendary based on eisteddfods in general? Theyre a poetry/art festival where the winner gets "the chairing of the bard" aka just imagine ur average school contest except if ur in wales u literally get knighted with a fake sword, crown and The School's Personal Throne. Its very weird in retrospect but it just seemed normal when i was a kid. I won it once and i was so anxious having to go thru the big celebration thing!! Like aaa just let me take my certificate and run! XD So yeah maybe a legendary based on the eisteddfod throne itself? Its called a throne but its more of a fancy wooden chair with patterns carved into it. So some sort of wooden dragon! And the legend would be that only the most talented bards can ride it and it bucks off anyone it thinks isnt purehearted enough. And maybe it could have a lovespoon for a tail cos thats also another wooden welsh thing. (Fancy carved spoons for good luck and/or romantic gifts)

* welsh cake pokemon!! Theyre just a sweetened scone with raisins in it, but i think it could be really cute as a design. Im thinking a rock type that just coincidentally looks like a cake with raisins, and it rolls around sideways like a big goofy crab~

* or if you wanna go for other local foods maybe mix the kelpie with bara bryth? (Seaweed bread paste stuff) So its just a loaf of bread that evolves into a badass horse and it would make no sense to anyone except brits, lol.

* perhaps a legandary based on the bard taliesin? It could be similar to nebby in starting off with a weak baby form but then becoming a badass! Cos his origin story was that he wasnt naturally all super cool so talented at singing that he could make literal magic happen just by sheer creativity. Instead he accidentally drank a magic potion of creativity that a witch made, and his abilities came at the cos of Pissing Her Off Forevermore. So maybe the baby form cpuld be a witch's cauldron? And have a tail made of chains to symbolize how he was enslaved as that witch's assistant and managed to escape with her most valuable prize. And then his ethereal fancy humanoid form could maybe be similar to meloetta's living music thing but more with calligraphy instead? But perhaps still have a similar chain tail to show his origins, except now the links in the chain are all fancy calligraphy Os, lol

* accompanying legendary possibilities: ceridwen (the evil witch from that story) or morfran (her innocent son) Morfran did nothing wrong but is often painted as more of the villain of the story than she is, simply because he was black. Yeah there's racism even back in our mythology, ugh...! I always felt so depressed for morfran cos the story is that ceridwen only made this super magical potion of being the best bard ever cos everyone said her son was the ugliest man on earth and EVEN SHE AGREED so she thought she had to give him some magic powers to stop people from hating him. And instead taliesin steals it and goes off to be the most powerful and respected and also handsome man ever, the end. And seriously the ONLY THING they mention about why this child is ugly is that he was "black like a crow" and also his name means evil crow. And thats just the end of his story forever, being some other dude's origin story and then forgotten into the void :( So like hey a pokemon criticizing that part of the myth wouls be great too! Like maybe have morfran be a counterpart legendary like latias to latios and he just looks equally beautiful with a reversed colourscheme of dark skin and white calligraphy patterns. And maybe the pokedex entry could be like "taliesinmon got its powers thru a magical gift from meloetta" and "morfranmon worked really hard for its powers all on its own and also is very socially anxious and relateable and tumblr user tumblunni's favourote character in all british mythologies despite also representing the worst part of our nation but hey its not this man's fault please rescue him ok" Srsly its not like its common to see taliesin referenced in fiction but morfran is even more forgotten and i think he needs at least one positive fictional depiction to make up for being screwed over in the original myth.

* Another myth with unintended bad messages is the one of Blodeuwedd or Dwedd (friends may recognize that i named my Gourgeist after her!) Her story is that she was an artificial human created out of plants in order to be some guy's sex toy basically. Yet she's the villain of the story cos she refused to marry him and ran off with another guy. Like seriously she was BORN to marry this dude! Even if he's the big mythological prince we're supposed to root for, with modern morality perspectives its kinda impossible to see it that way. At least unlike morfran she actually does do other stuff to establish her as a villain other than just existing, she comes back with her new boyfriend to kill the dude who made her and thus set the course of history awry cos he was A Really Inportant Destiny Prince And All. But seriously dude this is 100% your own fault for being creepy enough to not want to date real women and instead have some messed up preprogrammed woman who'd do whatever you want. "The only reason she wouldnt obey like he wanted must be because the seed of evil was in her heart" yeah no maybe it was the seed of free will u bastard. Anyway they have a funny sequence where prince douche mc douchebag is prophesized to never be killed by etc etc etc so dwedd and her new boyf have to trick him into THE MOST CONTRIVED CIRCUMSTANCE EVER to find a loophole. I think it was something like one foot on a goat and one on a bucket while at the border line between two countries at the crack of dawn? And as fitting a standard boring hero story of course eeeevil dwedd gets thwarted and prince pompous is ressurected and she's punished forever by being turned into an immortal owl for some reason.

* SO YEAH! Plant owl legendary! I just thought this myth in particular would be cool cos a female plant legendary with a disney villain aesthetic instead of the cliche pretty sexy thing everyone would probably expect. Make her bombastic and badass and terrifying!!! The pumpkaboo line is the closest thing so far cos bat pumpkin is KINDA close to daffodil owl. At least in terms of spooky aesthetic, lol

* oh and also her boyfriend was named gronw pebr and honestly he barely does anything in the whole story but he has a really cool name so i felt like mentioning it

* our national flower is the daffodil and our national vegetable is the leek so maybe a farfetch'd variation with a daffodil? Or maybe a saucepan or somethin. It could kinda work with farfetch'd origin, plus one of our most famous nursery rhymes is about saucepans. AR GATH WEDI SCRAPU GROOKEY BACH

* our national animal is actually the dragon not the sheep! So definately give us some good dragon types!! Our flag is a dragon so maybe our legendary could be that? And perhaps reference the whole "red dragon beats the white dragon symbolizing how much england sucks" legend by having it have two forms like minior or darmanitan and the weaker cowardly defensive one is england. Just sayin!!

* i dont think you can really make a pokemon personification of england conquering and literally owning us and us taking so long to even get considered a separate country again and be able to have our native language in schools except it was already so many generations passed of it being forbidden to be spoken that barely anyone still knew it and even nowadays when we have billingual road signs the rate of billingualism is incredibly low and im really jealous of my sister growing up in a school that taught it from a young age cos i was thrown into intermediate level welsh without having the basic lessons and thus nevee managed to learn it at all and felt both stupid and disconnected from my ancestors irretreiveably

* MAYBE A RUGBY POKEMON I DUNNO LOL

[ollmylove]

The Truth Untold (Remix) - Part 1

Hello Everyone! This wasn't a request but it was inspired by the amazing Ysabelle (link to video in masterlist), her English cover of The Truth Untold leaves me shook every single time I listen to it. I really have a lot of different interpretations for this song but the way she translated the lyrics really felt like a love/broken hearted song. I did change the lyrics slightly to suit the story a little better so I hope you like it. I couldn't fit the entire thing into one post so part 2 is in the masterlist too!

Pairing: Suga/Min Yoongi x Reader.

Genre/warnings: tint bits of fluff, mostly angst and heart break. Also like 1 swear word.

Summary: You're a singer/rapper in your own girl group. You meet someone you like but aren't sure if you'll get your own happy ending.

Word count: 953

-----

I wake up im a castle

In a blossoming garden

Feeling so lonely

I hung myself in this mess filled with thorns

Tell me what do they call you?

Where are you running off to?

Oh could you tell me?

You met backstage, both of your groups preparing for your respective performances on the award show.

Both your group and BTS mingled as you were all checked out by hair and makeup and different runners.

"Relax. You and your girls are gonna do great. You always do." A low voice sounded behind you.

"Always?" You replied as you spun round. There was already a slight smile on your face as your eyes settled on Suga, you recognised his voice and you were actually very fond of his work as you were a rapper for your group too.

"I mean... Okay fine. You caught me. I'm a big fan." His gummy smile appeared and you both blushed.

"Y/N. Time to go." One of your members pulled on your wrist, it was time for your performance.

"Duty calls. Nice meeting you Suga." You shot him an apologetic smile as you let her tug you away.

"Yoongi!" He called after you, smile still plastered on his face as he watched you disappear.

I found you kept away in this garden.

And I know your warmth is the closest to reality

The flowers that you picked for me

"Wow. It's beautiful." You commented as Yoongi handed you the long jewelery box. Inside was a thin, simple necklace with a tulip shaped pendant hanging off. "You're setting the bar too high. We agreed nothing too fancy."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just saw it and I couldn't help myself. I did get you a practical gift as well." He commented as he handed another small bag to you.

A small squeal left your lips as you looked inside and saw it was filled with film for your polaroid camera.

"You're too good to me, honestly." You quickly pecked him on the lips before handing him the book you had been holding behind your back. "My turn."

His smile was huge as he opened the book and looked up at you.

"Y/N, babe. How did you know I needed some more music sheets? I ran out."

"I know, Hoseok told me you had been complaining about it. Do you like them?" You asked.

"I love them. And I love you."

His hand came to your cheek, and his lips met yours in that gentle familiar pattern that you had been craving all day.

"Happy anniversary Yoongi."

Reaching for your hand

Don't smile on me, light on me

No I can never take another step to you.

Don't have a name to call me anymore.

"I don't understand. We've been together for 2 years now. We love each other. Why can't we go public?" You were quiet, you didn't want to start an argument but this was important to you.

"Its not the right time yet Y/N. Telling people we're in a relationship might jeopardise things for our groups and I don't want that to happen." Yoongi was frustrated at this point. He just couldn't understand why you didn't get it. He loved you, of course he did but there was a right time to do this.

"Is it because of her?" You stood up, hoping your confidence would stay strong and your voice not waver.

"What are you talking about? Because of who?" He narrowed his eyes, wondering where you were going.

"I'm not stupid Yoongs. I see the articles and the photos and the tweets. Pictures of you and that other idol girl. Together all the time." It didn't take long for your confidence to abandon you, and you looked down to the floor to stare at your feet as your voice grew quieter.

"Y/N. We have the same management, of course we're together a lot. We literally work in the same building. Do you really think I would cheat on you?" Yoongi pulled you by the arm, so you were close to him.

With his hands resting on your shoulders you lay your head on his chest.

"No. I don't. But can you blame me for being insecure? There's never going to be a right time for us to tell anyone so why not now? I'm not asking you to give anything up. I just want to be able to walk down the street with my boyfriend, or hold his hand or even post a fucking photo of us on our anniversary." You sobbed, staining his shirt with your tears as he held you.

You were both quiet for a long time. Standing in his apartment, his arms around you and tears flowing both your faces.

"Yoongi." You mumbled. This moment was so intimate which was something you didn't get a lot and you were almost too scared to say anything in case you ruined it. You gathered your resolve and looked up into his face. His nose and eyes were red against his tan face, the sight of him in pain made your heart drop into your stomach.

"I love you so much. I know you know that. And I'm happy with you, you make me so happy. I understand that you're afraid, but I'm not. I am not afraid of living my life. And I'm not going to force you to do anything." You took both of his hands in yours and squeezed them before letting go.

"Come find me if you ever feel ready."

And with that you left.

I know that you can't

Show me you

Give me you

The weaknesses that I hide you have always seen

I wear a mask again so I don't see you

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#5yrsago RIP, Aaron Swartz

  To the extent possible under law,       Cory Doctorow   has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to   "RIP, Aaron Swartz."

Update: Go read Lessig: "He was brilliant, and funny. A kid genius. A soul, a conscience, the source of a question I have asked myself a million times: What would Aaron think? That person is gone today, driven to the edge by what a decent society would only call bullying. I get wrong. But I also get proportionality. And if you don’t get both, you don’t deserve to have the power of the United States government behind you."

My friend Aaron Swartz committed suicide yesterday, Jan 11. He was 26. I got woken up with the news about an hour ago. I'm still digesting it -- I suspect I'll be digesting it for a long time -- but I thought it was important to put something public up so that we could talk about it. Aaron was a public guy.

I met Aaron when he was 14 or 15. He was working on XML stuff (he co-wrote the RSS specification when he was 14) and came to San Francisco often, and would stay with Lisa Rein, a friend of mine who was also an XML person and who took care of him and assured his parents he had adult supervision. In so many ways, he was an adult, even then, with a kind of intense, fast intellect that really made me feel like he was part and parcel of the Internet society, like he belonged in the place where your thoughts are what matter, and not who you are or how old you are.  

But he was also unmistakably a kid then, too. He would only eat white food. We'd go to a Chinese restaurant and he'd order steamed rice. I suggested that he might be a supertaster and told him how to check it out, and he did, and decided that he was. We had a good talk about the stomach problems he faced and about how he would need to be careful because supertasters have a tendency to avoid "bitter" vegetables and end up deficient in fibre and vitamins. He immediately researched the hell out of the subject, figured out a strategy for eating better, and sorted it. The next time I saw him (in Chicago, where he lived -- he took the El a long way from the suburbs to sit down and chat with me about distributed hash caching), he had a whole program in place.

I introduced him to Larry Lessig, and he was active in the original Creative Commons technical team, and became very involved in technology-freedom issues. Aaron had powerful, deeply felt ideals, but he was also always an impressionable young man, someone who often found himself moved by new passions. He always seemed somehow in search of mentors, and none of those mentors ever seemed to match the impossible standards he held them (and himself) to.

This was cause for real pain and distress for Aaron, and it was the root of his really unfortunate pattern of making high-profile, public denunciations of his friends and mentors. And it's a testament to Aaron's intellect, heart, and friendship that he was always forgiven for this. Many of us "grown ups" in Aaron's life have, over the years, sat down to talk about this, and about our protective feelings for him, and to check in with one another and make sure that no one was too stung by Aaron's disappointment in us. I think we all knew that, whatever the disappointment that Aaron expressed about us, it also reflected a disappointment in himself and the world.  

Aaron accomplished some incredible things in his life. He was one of the early builders of Reddit (someone always turns up to point out that he was technically not a co-founder, but he was close enough as makes no damn), got bought by Wired/Conde Nast, engineered his own dismissal and got cashed out, and then became a full-time, uncompromising, reckless and delightful shit-disturber.

The post-Reddit era in Aaron's life was really his coming of age. His stunts were breathtaking. At one point, he singlehandedly liberated 20 percent of US law. PACER, the system that gives Americans access to their own (public domain) case-law, charged a fee for each such access. After activists built RECAP (which allowed its users to put any caselaw they paid for into a free/public repository), Aaron spent a small fortune fetching a titanic amount of data and putting it into the public domain. The feds hated this. They smeared him, the FBI investigated him, and for a while, it looked like he'd be on the pointy end of some bad legal stuff, but he escaped it all, and emerged triumphant.

He also founded a group called DemandProgress, which used his technological savvy, money and passion to leverage victories in huge public policy fights. DemandProgress's work was one of the decisive factors in last year's victory over SOPA/PIPA, and that was only the start of his ambition.  

I wrote to Aaron for help with Homeland, the sequel to Little Brother to get his ideas on a next-generation electioneering tool that could be used by committed, passionate candidates who didn't want to end up beholden to monied interests and power-brokers. Here's what he wrote back:  

  First he decides to take over the whole California Senate, so he can do things at scale. He finds a friend in each Senate district to run and plugs them into a web app he's made for managing their campaigns. It has a database of all the local reporters, so there's lots of local coverage for each of their campaign announcements.

Then it's just a vote-finding machine. First it goes through your contacts list (via Facebook, twitter, IM, email, etc.) and lets you go down the list and try to recruit everyone to be a supporter. Every supporter is then asked to do the same thing with their contacts list. Once it's done people you know, it has you go after local activists who are likely to be supportive. Once all those people are recruited, it does donors (grabbing the local campaign donor records). And then it moves on to voters and people you could register to vote. All the while, it's doing massive A/B testing to optimize talking points for all these things. So as more calls are made and more supporters are recruited, it just keeps getting better and better at figuring out what will persuade people to volunteer. Plus the whole thing is built into a larger game/karma/points thing that makes it utterly addictive, with you always trying to stay one step ahead of your friends.

Meanwhile GIS software that knows where every voter is is calculating the optimal places to hold events around the district. The press database is blasting them out -- and the press is coming, because they're actually fun. Instead of sober speeches about random words, they're much more like standup or the Daily Show -- full of great, witty soundbites that work perfectly in an evening newscast or a newspaper story. And because they're so entertaining and always a little different, they bring quite a following; they become events. And a big part of all of them getting the people there to pull out their smartphones and actually do some recruiting in the app, getting more people hooked on the game.

He doesn't talk like a politician -- he knows you're sick of politicians spouting lies and politicians complaining about politicians spouting lies and the whole damn thing. He admits up front you don't trust a word he says -- and you shouldn't! But here's the difference: he's not in the pocket of the big corporations. And you know how you can tell? Because each week he brings out a new whistleblower to tell a story about how a big corporation has mistreated its workers or the environment or its customers -- just the kind of thing the current corruption in Sacramento is trying to cover up and that only he is going to fix.

(Obviously shades of Sinclair here...)

also you have to read http://books.theinfo.org/go/B005HE8ED4

For his TV ads, his volunteer base all take a stab at making an ad for him and the program automatically A/B tests them by asking people in the district to review a new TV show. The ads are then inserted into the commercial breaks and at the end of the show, when you ask the user how they liked it, you also sneak in some political questions. Web ads are tested by getting people to click on ads for a free personality test and then giving them a personality test with your political ad along the side and asking them some political questions. (Ever see ads for a free personality test? That's what they really are. Everybody turns out to have the personality of a sparkle fish, which is nice and pleasant except when it meets someone it doesn't like, ...)  Since it's random, whichever group scores closest to you on the political questions must be most affected by the ad.  Then they're bought at what research shows to be the optimal time before the election, with careful selection of television show to maximize the appropriate voter demographics based on Nielsen data.

anyway, i could go on, but i should actually take a break and do some of this... hope you're well  

This was so perfect that I basically ran it verbatim in the book. Aaron had an unbeatable combination of political insight, technical skill, and intelligence about people and issues. I think he could have revolutionized American (and worldwide) politics. His legacy may still yet do so.

Somewhere in there, Aaron's recklessness put him right in harm's way. Aaron snuck into MIT and planted a laptop in a utility closet, used it to download a lot of journal articles (many in the public domain), and then snuck in and retrieved it. This sort of thing is pretty par for the course around MIT, and though Aaron wasn't an MIT student, he was a fixture in the Cambridge hacker scene, and associated with Harvard, and generally part of that gang, and Aaron hadn't done anything with the articles (yet), so it seemed likely that it would just fizzle out.

Instead, they threw the book at him. Even though MIT and JSTOR (the journal publisher) backed down, the prosecution kept on. I heard lots of theories: the feds who'd tried unsuccessfully to nail him for the PACER/RECAP stunt had a serious hate-on for him; the feds were chasing down all the Cambridge hackers who had any connection to Bradley Manning in the hopes of turning one of them, and other, less credible theories. A couple of lawyers close to the case told me that they thought Aaron would go to jail.

This morning, a lot of people are speculating that Aaron killed himself because he was worried about doing time. That might be so. Imprisonment is one of my most visceral terrors, and it's at least credible that fear of losing his liberty, of being subjected to violence (and perhaps sexual violence) in prison, was what drove Aaron to take this step.

But Aaron was also a person who'd had problems with depression for many years. He'd written about the subject publicly, and talked about it with his friends.  

I don't know if it's productive to speculate about that, but here's a thing that I do wonder about this morning, and that I hope you'll think about, too. I don't know for sure whether Aaron understood that any of us, any of his friends, would have taken a call from him at any hour of the day or night. I don't know if he understood that wherever he was, there were people who cared about him, who admired him, who would get on a plane or a bus or on a video-call and talk to him.  

Because whatever problems Aaron was facing, killing himself didn't solve them. Whatever problems Aaron was facing, they will go unsolved forever. If he was lonely, he will never again be embraced by his friends. If he was despairing of the fight, he will never again rally his comrades with brilliant strategies and leadership. If he was sorrowing, he will never again be lifted from it.

Depression strikes so many of us. I've struggled with it, been so low I couldn't see the sky, and found my way back again, though I never thought I would. Talking to people, doing Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, seeking out a counsellor or a Samaritan -- all of these have a chance of bringing you back from those depths. Where there's life, there's hope. Living people can change things, dead people cannot.  

I'm so sorry for Aaron, and sorry about Aaron. My sincere condolences to his parents, whom I never met, but who loved their brilliant, magnificently weird son and made sure he always had chaperonage when he went abroad on his adventures. My condolences to his friends, especially Quinn and Lisa, and the ones I know and the ones I don't, and to his comrades at DemandProgress. To the world: we have all lost someone today who had more work to do, and who made the world a better place when he did it.

Goodbye, Aaron.

https://boingboing.net/2013/01/12/rip-aaron-swartz.html

[melloroom]

Dont fucking bully people

The impossibility of being diagnosed as a sufferer of a painful and very permanent thing as APBS (adult post bullying syndrome) lies in how well I am able to perfectly describe it, whether i can remember enough incidents to show a pattern, finding a person who believes they happened the way i perfectly (sarcasm) described, effectively transcribing my experiences so that they can examine them as if they just witnessed them, and having that person care enough to listen and do all those things. and have that person be in a position to do something about it. SPOILER; I can't do these things. I can never describe every event that I experienced. I can try to describe life for me how it used to be.

I used to be 15 for example, and had a room and went to a school and lived in a fairly small town and had a mother and father. My father didn’t work and my mother was a family practice doctor. They were christians and optimists generally, and believed in being “good” and that “bad” was not what they were. If they ever deviated from “good” behavior, it was still effectively “good” behavior because, “justification.” My father, dad, justified everything. My dad justified hitting me with having a traumatic childhood, and being beaten by his own dad. My dad justified violently overreacting to minor offenses in chore neglect and other forms of neglect by me and my siblings because we are doing it to “try to make him angry, or WANT to show how little we care about his well being” because its life or death if the kitchen gets cleaned. and he felt it was fine to put words in my mouth, and even create a voice for me. a literal voice. I mean speak out loud as if he were me and say that that is me and that is what I am saying even when i disagree. And I could never disagree. Disagreement is admission to subordination or defensiveness, and defensiveness is evidence of disrespect and hostility. In my dads eyes, it’s fine to react to my hostility (the one he projected) and crush it. crush it until there is nothing but a broken person in front of him. He’d use voice, manipulation tactics, gas lighting, demeaning, condescending, being sexist, and being physically and visually violent to get me to the stages of crying, shivering, begging for mercy, begging to be left alone, or screaming to be dead. I can’t really describe having this continue 2 - 5 times a week, 8 to 20 times a month from early childhood till age 20.

So but what’s impossible too is aside from those incidents that lasted 10 minutes to an hour a piece? the rest of the time? he was a “nice” person who did a lot of apologizing (not learning or growing so much but). Yes, even in my eyes now. I love my dad. I love my dad and I’m 24 and I hit myself when I feel shame because I think i deserve it, but not that he deserves to feel bad. Mostly because I suspect he has BPD and i KNOW he has depression.

Sidenote: apbs is connected to extreme empathy, i’m not shitting you people are selling that as one of the “positive outcomes” of having it. As in here is how this is good so we don’t need to treat it like a problem.

but it is a problem for me. as a result of APBS I can’t trust people, I create a voice of pure judgment FOR people closest to me (kind of like him) and make myself repeat it and listen to it unfiltered every hour. I engage in over shopping, over drinking, over smoking, over eating, and excessive alone time indulging in other distractions to cope with the blowout of shame and self hatred. I can’t balance my mind between optimism and pessimism ultimately being hurt by both. Being too optimistic has meant pouring myself (sometimes time, money, energy, etc) into something I hoped for that wasn’t realistic and losing any positive emotion (and did i mention money) I’d invested leaving me drained and sometimes broke. OR of course there’s pessimism, I pretty much just label that as depression and call it a day. No middle ground. I do not live a healthy lifestyle of learning from mistakes if I make them. I either am a loser or a winner. either I’m worthless or better than the people around me (I labeled this as narcissistic personality disorder but turns out its simply a bi-product of my contrasted mentality that haha i can’t unlearn). Oh and also I have rage problems. It's violent tendencies like kicking walls or screaming, or breaking things, or anger at reliving trauma like what you would associate with ptsd (but not quite). Its not the same because the outbursts don't occur RIGHT AFTER being triggered. they are slowly built up (called having a longer fuse) and pre-empted by ruminating on pervasive, negative thoughts. So yay, they often happen when I’m alone so no one can check them.

I need to see a therapist because I’m getting to realize now that I’m living in a pattern that I have to either break or at the very least heavily acknowledge. I tried so hard to forget what brought me here or that anything is wrong Im scared I wont be able to explain it or be believed.