#my confidence has been dropping exponentially by the day

[dandan-theberserker]

.

[sunspira]

Im laying my bets now. the entire idea that autism (and adhd) is more common in men and boys is pure myth created by poor science, backwards statistics and faulty parameters of the condition itself. in another 50 years we will understand it was never a gendered condition. just a highly gendered and biased measurement system. i'm absurdly confident on that

the rates of autism in girls is "rising" exponentially. it is rising even more exponentially in girls than in boys. not because girls are becoming more autistic. but because the "science" is just getting better at measuring and accurately acknowledging autism in girls.

autism often does present differently in girls, due to how girls are raised or personality differences. the literature and criteria was based on boy sample groups. the entire research data was done on white men as if that is a standard default person and control group.

not only that, doctors and teachers and parents literally were not looking for it in girls under the false widely propagated belief it was rare in women in girls. it is a self fulfilling prophecy. that's not science.

we will soon have to reckon with the lost generations of autistic girls and women and children assigned female at birth* who never got diagnosis and early intervention. we should be forcing the world to reckon with it right now. a great deal of autistic millennial women are brilliant minds who dropped out of STEM and the workforce due to their untreated and misidentified disability overtaking their life. the impact of never Knowing you or your child is autistic or adhd is difficult to comprehend for autistic and adhd people who did get diagnosed as children. even when the awareness and interventions were unhelpful or harmful. the harm of not knowing means the child trying even harder to become neurotypical and a level of autistic burnout few others on the spectrum can comprehend, often taking place after the woman is a legal adult, and there are no legal protections in place for this disabled person.

the unmitigated stress of being developmentally delayed and never knowing it, simply hating and blaming yourself and fighting day in and out past your limits to become neurotypical, limits your don't know you should have because you have never been so much as briefed on what adhd or autism can feel like. you don't know the distres and tiredness you're feeling is "dysregulation". this is why we see women in nervous breakdowns. psychiatric wards. treatment resistant depression. electric shock therapy. hard drug addiction. cutting. homelessness. personality disorders. dissociation. psychosis. early death by accident or suicide. (obviously people who are not autistic or adhd have these illnesses but my point is untold and disproportionate numbers of them are undiagnosed neurodivergent with unprocessed trauma. i'm telling you. more than you think).

it's why we see young people on tiktok not faking DID per say, but describing a dissociated experiences and fractured sense of self and escapist alternate personalities, a mental illness that has much less in common with traditional DID, but has much in common with struggling and under-treated autistic people. DID is a very rare condition. autism is very common. autism can create out of body experiences and self protective blurring of reality and fantasy so extreme, no person can be expected to understand it is autism if they never been advised about their own disability and the knowledge that should he available to them. it's no wonder we have people with mislabeled rare disorders like DID who are clearly very sick but instead of showing real DID signs, are sick with all the signs of severe unassisted autism they have been completely barred from understanding or coping with in any other way. for those lucky enough, we see unemployed young women with severe chronic pain in their 20s and 30s who look and feel like they're elderly and gave up their dreams when they hit 21 or 25 and their brains stopped working and their bodies shut down. now they mostly scroll tumblr and tiktok and try to remember to open the blinds. they have a roof but people scorn them for entitled laziness and worst of all derided for "self diagnosing".

again i'm asking why CFS chronic fatigue syndrome is so responsive to adderall. i'm asking why professionals are reluctant to test women for adhd if she does well in school because she is very bookish and why experts in the field are openly amused and doubtful to test a woman for autism if she has a long term boyfriend. why is ability to mask or function a disqualification. why is inability to function in women, who later turn out to be autistic or adhd, so aggressively mischaracterized as BPD, bipolar, depression, OCD, schizophrenia. why is autism and adhd clinically diagnosed and defined by distress and dysfunction and not by intrinsic traits and qualities that present while still functional for preventative care. why are all people, men and women forced to wait until their lives and minds are deteriorating and they have experienced some irreversible disasters and pain before they can be diagnosed. why must girls and boys wait until their daily life as children have become unbearable hell for them before their disability can be treated and acknowledged. and if these policies are changing now, why are doctors and psychiatrists not eagerly and urgently reaching out to find the vulnerable adults they missed during more archaic screening methods. we aren't rising in adhd diagnosis because of tiktok you assholes. adult onset adhd and autism don't exist. those people were always adhd. adult onset skill regression and increase in severity due to stress DOES happen in adulthood. modern day stresses like loss of structure during the pandemic and social media is advancing to become more attention span draining. everyone is feeling the effects but these are causing adhd and autistic people to cope less and mask less effectively so they are running into significant problems, their loved ones are noticing, they are getting referrals and suddenly forced to google their rapidly worsening mental issues for the first time and seeing they line up with a known neurological condition . this is obvious. doctors blaming it on some sort of trend are being willfully clueless

*because autism especially is screened identified diagnosed and first intervened ages 2-5, before a child has an internal concept of self or gender and above all before they can express their gender, diagnostic practices and criteria are based on how adults perceive a child via birth assignments. and the studies are overwhelmingly beholden to data only on children assigned male at birth, rarely accounting for their actual future gender either. as part of the warped science insisting that autism is as if somehow linked to the y chromosome and not a universally likely human quality, you see amab kids laser focused on as candidates and afab kids fucked over most of all. all children assigned female have the worst chances of their developmental disability being identified and acknowledged in a timely manner and disproportionately experience late diagnosis in later adolescence or adulthood. tho i wouldn't be surprised if trans womens rates of accurate diagnosis is lower than cis men. as trans girls may present autism differently and characteristic of girls autism, even while still in the closet or before she knows she is trans. regardless adults are very vigilant for signs of autism, even atypical ones, in any child they perceive as a boy. so any millennial or gen z child identified female at birth had significantly worse chance at receiving autistic support compared to peers

in particular women assigned male at birth might have a better chance at being identified for types of autism that are often labeled "high functioning", involves high masking, and often receives few services. these more invisible types of autism often need to be diagnosed before age 5 in order to qualify under the criteria at all. and so in the days where autism was believed to be 20x more common in the genetics of xy children, any chance of being considered and diagnosed would come down to almost purely birth assignment dependent. with the less outwardly visible types of autism, a person who misses this window will remain autistic all their life but once they learn a certain level of skills and masking, no matter how late they learn these, the person will no longer qualify for diagnosis, either not until they have a nervous breakdown or possibly not ever qualify. it's this type of more hidden autism we see struggling across the board as undiagnosed adults including both trans and cis women especially, tho we are seeing it disproportionately even more so in undiagnosed afabs of any gender. who are dropping out of schooling and work and succumbing to severe mental illnesses during what should be the prime of their lives. overall tho birth assignment is not everything this is an issue that disproportionately impacts cis women. trans women. trans men. non-binary people. likely doubling for those that are afab. and then tripling and quadrupling for children who are not white.

bit of an understatement in that last part there. gender likely isn't even the biggest barrier to proper diagnosis and treatment. probably race is even more so. but since gender is such a big disparity in itself across race and one i relate to and can speak on from experience ive focused on it here. a more in-depth look is needed on the neglect of adhd and autistic children of color especially black native and latino kids. but for now do keep in mind the points i'm making increase exponentially for kids who aren't white across all genders including cis boys

[decembercamiecherries]

2023 Fic Summary!

I didn't do this last year for some reason??? BUT I wrote a lot of fics this year, and some I forgot to share here, so I wanted to post a summary of it all so that way all my fics ended up on my tumblr in some way! ^-^ Thank you to everyone who continues to read my works, I'm very happy to share my stories with you all <3

Previous fic summaries:

2019 summary

2020 summary

2021 summary

Ao3 Stats (for 2023 only):

Works In Progress (HxH, killugon)

2 chapters, 5.6k words

Not complete

General summary: I'll be posting all my sneak peeks/wips/abandoned hxh fics here so it'll never be marked as complete

Excerpt: Gon doesn’t drop the beer, but it’s a near thing. Because this new customer is gorgeous—his white hair is windswept and silver in the dim light, his skin is pale and smooth, his fingers are long as any pianists’ as they rest along the bar, and his build is lean but sculpted beyond the thin tank top he wears. And his eyes, of course, are the most beautiful shade of blue.

At The Summit (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 2.7k words

Complete

General summary: high school au, carnival rides, first kiss

Excerpt: It takes Lan Wangji a moment to register what Wei Wuxian has said. He’s too preoccupied with the press of Wei Wuxian’s calloused palm against his, the buzzing wonder that vibrates under his skin, the tingling of his lips. He already knows he will be replaying their kiss in his mind until the early hours of the morning and possibly—definitely—for the remainder of the weekend.

Eight Days a Week (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 6.7k words

Complete

General summary: modern au, co-workers, Wei Wuxian is upset Lan Wangji has a date

Excerpt: As for the date themself…well, Wei Wuxian isn’t confident enough to assume Lan Wangji’s taste in dates but Lan Wangji did say they were good. Whatever that means. And if Lan Wangji likes them, they must be nice at the very least. Maybe they follow rules as strictly as Lan Wangji. Maybe they share his love of music. Maybe they are quiet and actually let Lan Wangji speak, unlike Wei Wuxian who babbles about everything and anything that crosses his mind.

Intentional (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 2.5k words

Complete

General summary: college au, Wei Wuxian accidentally says I love you when hanging up on a phone call with Lan Wangji

Excerpt: Lan Wangji knows his own mind. He knows his own thoughts. He knows Wei Wuxian has been a source of frustration, fascination and admiration in equal measures since the moment they met at college orientation nearly three years ago. And although his impression of the bright-eyed and chaotic student has remained largely unchanged since then, the unexpected fondness Lan Wangji found himself harboring for Wei Wuxian has grown exponentially stronger and long ago spiraled out of his control.

Time x Bomb (HxH, killugon)

3 chapters, 14.1k words

Complete

General summary: canon divergence au, chimera ant arc, what if au in which Killua is taken by Pitou instead of Kite

Excerpt: Killua should be here. Killua always knew the right words to say, to distract Gon from his weaknesses, to encourage him to move forward. Killua’s arms should be the ones around him right now. Killua should be murmuring reassurances in his ear. Kite’s frame is similar to Killua’s—they’re both thin and lithe—but Kite is too long, too bone-y. Killua is only slightly taller than Gon and the perfect size to hold and be held by.

like a rainbow (MDZS, wangxian)

4 chapters, 14.7k words

Complete

General summary: canon divergence/soulmate au in which everyone is colorbind when separated from the soulmate with the exception of one color

Excerpt: Lan Wangji immediately regrets the sip of alcohol Wei Wuxian had coaxed him into taking. He wants to remember each and every second he spends worshiping Wei Wuxian. The momentary relaxation from drinking is certainly not worth giving that up. Still, he traces the red marks and scratches littering Wei Wuxian’s arms and shoulders, marveling at how beautiful Wei Wuxian’s soul color looks in the morning light. 

Insomniac (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 2k words

Complete

General summary: modern au, established relationship, Wei Wuxian convinces his overworked husband Lan Wangji to cuddle in bed

Excerpt: He gasps as Lan Wangji hoists him into his arms. Heart pounding, he grabs hold of Lan Wangji’s shoulders as the other walks out of the kitchen and down the hallway. It’s an impressive show of strength, one that always makes Wei Wuxian’s blood race no matter how many times Lan Wangji has done it before.

Troubled by the Emptiness (MDZS, wangxian)

5 chapters, 27k words

Complete

General summary: canon divergence au in which Wei Wuxian makes everyone forget his existence shortly after escaping to the Burial Mounds with the Wens

Excerpt: The Lan Sect rules are the farthest things on Lan Wangji’s mind right now. The only thing he can think of is kissing Wei Wuxian, of turning off his lies and distractions and prying the truth out of him with his own mouth and tongue. He wants to hear Wei Wuxian spill his secrets in gasps and moans. He wants to find a way to ensure Wei Wuxian won’t sacrifice the new memories they share like he had their previous ones.

lovely, dark, and deep (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 30.9k words

Complete

General summary: red riding hood au in which Wei Wuxian is red riding hood, Lan Wangji the wolf, and the Wens the grandmother in the woods

Excerpt: Wei Wuxian has yet to see a fae in the woods. Most of the townsfolk of Yiling haven’t, either—if they do, they normally don’t live to tell the tale. Fae don’t like humans trespassing on their land. The path is something they can’t touch, but any human who goes astray is fair game. 

Light and Shadow (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 4.2k words

Complete

General summary: modern au, super hero au, secret identity au

Excerpt: The world comes back into focus. Gone is Hanguang-jun, Gusu’s second Twin Jade and a source of strength and hope for all its civilians. In his place is only Lan Wangji, a well built but wholly average civilian dressed in his usual business attire with blood seeping through his torn dress pants. And Wei Wuxian had a front row seat for the entire transformation.

painting flowers for you (HxH, killugon)

1 chapter, 13.2k words

Complete

General summary: alice in wonderland au in which Killua is Alice, Gon is the chesire cat, and Alluka is the rabbit

Excerpt: Killua kept his stare steady as Gon searched his face. Those inhuman gold eyes and slitted pupils no longer sent a shiver down his spine. They were a part of Gon now, just like his magic. And underneath it all he was still the freckled, cheerful teen who Killua fell in love with all those years ago. The teen who loved him back just as much.

Otherwise Engaged (MDZS, wangxian)

1 chapter, 5.2k words

Complete

General summary: modern au, professors/teachers au, wangxian wake up accidentally married after getting drunk the night before but drag their feet when it comes to gettnig a divorce

Excerpt: The heavy weight of Lan Wangji’s stare digs into his back and Wei Wuxian delights in the feeling. Having Lan Wangji’s undivided attention is a gift in and of itself! But he will not get distracted. Because this is important. This is real. This would be a conscious decision in a way that their marriage hadn’t been. And Wei Wuxian can only hope that Lan Wangji’s delay in asking for a divorce means that he wants the same thing Wei Wuxian does.

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Summer 2022 Anime

Is it just me, or does summer tend to be the worst season for anime? Ever since I’ve started watching seasonally, summer has consistently been the weakest season every year, with the most high-profile disappointments and the least genuine successes. And that felt especially true this year, with show after how either failing to rise to its full potential or just never showing any potential in the first place. This has been a barren three months, and even after deciding to drop all the shows I really wasn’t feeling, I was left with far more bad than good. If not for a couple spectacular late-minute arrivals, I’d be confident calling this the worst ever season of anime in the modern era. It may well still be that! Either way, fall’s already looking exponentially better, so let’s give this cursed season the post-mortem it deserves and take a look at what gems are worth salvaging. I’ve already given my thoughts on the miserable second season of Devil is a Part-Timer (3/10), the ambitious but amateurish RWBY spinoff Ice Queendom (5/10), and the problematic delight that was Call of the Night (7.5/10). As for everything else... read on.

Shine Post: Unfinished/10

So, I guess the folks at Cygames finally dispense with all the stupid, ill-fitting gimmicks and just make a straightforward idol anime, huh? Forget the unholy amalgamation of horse-racing pop stars that was Uma Musume, Shine Post is pure idol through and through, a story about a bunch of ordinary high school girls chasing their dreams and make the world hear their songs. On the one hand, I appreciate them for finally cutting out the middleman; watching Uma Musume break its own back to shoe-horn all those competing genres into the same space was painful, so deciding to just focus on the idol stuff that was always Cygames’ clearest inspiration was a sound decision. Unfortunately, once you strip away all that genre-blending weirdness that made Uma Musume so compelling in spite of itself, all you’re left with is, well, a basic-ass idol show with no real selling points beyond some admittedly stellar character animation and a unique-but-poorly-utilized gimmick of the manager being able to magically tell when someone’s lying. And then you’re forced to contend with the fact that Cygames writing is pretty uniformly terrible, overwrought melodrama (the second season of Uma Musume nonwithstanding), and all their female characters speak in the most ear-grating attempts at forced, quirky cuteness imaginable, and then you start hyperfocusing on the weirdly sexualized character designs with perfectly see-through t-shirts and prominent thigh gaps and... yeah, suffice to say, my interest in this one is pretty much dead. The last three episodes had to be delayed thanks to an untimely Covid outbreak at the studio, so we’ll see if the finale somehow manages to turn this thing around. But I’m not holding my breath.

Yurei Deco: 2.5/10

Is there such a thing as Oscar-bait anime? I don’t know, but if there is, it probably looks an awful lot like Yurei Deco. It’s an anime original by the critically beloved studio Science Saru! It’s got a unique art style and a eclectic musical score! It’s telling a topical, relevant story about the modern-day surveillance state and how our lives are run by algorithms! It’s a very loose adaptation of a piece of classic Western literature filtered through insane anime goggles (Huckleberry Finn, in this case). It’s a show that practically screams its desire to be taken seriously, to have thinkpieces written about how Deep and Meaningful it is. But all that surface-level posturing can’t hide the fact that this is one of the stupidest goddamn anime I’ve watched all year. The story is limp and fails to connect, the animation isn’t appreciably better than other more generic but better produced shows, the literary references don’t amount to anything and honestly kind of make things worse with their incongruity, and whatever message it was trying to convey ends up so mangled by the end that it feels like you’re being made fun of for even trying to care in the first place. Bad anime are a dime a dozen, but few things are as aggravating to sit through as a bad anime that’s convinced of its own brilliance despite having all the intelligence of a lobotomized monkey.

Shine on! Bakamatsu Bad Boys: 3/10

The easiest way to describe Bakamatsu Bad Boys would be “Akudama Drive in the Sengoku era of Japan.” The premise is similar, at least; seven colorful and color-coded criminals are brought together by an outside force to help change the world that forced them into criminality in the first place. Sadly, the second easiest way to describe Bakamatsu Bad Boys would be “Akudama Drive but infinitely worse.” There’s some good chemistry among the cast, but they’re almost always split off into designated pairs and never allowed to shine as a group dynamic. Plus the animation is weaker, the themes are sloppier, the character arcs are so much more pedestrian, and there’s a real lack of spark to the whole affair. This is a story about criminals taking over the wreckage of the Shinsengumi to help rebuild it into a better force for good, but very little of the juicy potential in that concept makes it on screen beyond some decent moralizing against outright torture. But what really kills this thing is the only female character being subjected to the absolute worst kind of predatory “romance” and gender essentialism. That’s where this show crosses the line from inoffensively boring to outright disgusting.

A Couple of Cuckoos (2nd Half): 3.5/10

Is it just a rule that all harem anime must be cursed to go completely to shit by the end? I remember actually liking A Couple of Cuckoos back when it started out, but by the second half rolled around, it was just completely out of gas. Whatever story it had to begin with round to a halt and stayed there for twelve episodes of mind-numbing, meaningless faffing about, occasionally threatening to sputter back to life before promptly fizzling out all over again, finally belching up one last fart cloud of a non-ending before going completely silent. And I might not even be that upset about it; plenty of great anime have been forged off the backs of watching fun characters just hang out forever, and if there’s one thing I can say in Cuckoos’ favor, it does have some very entertaining character banter. But when you keep threatening to actually do something interesting? With cliffhanger after cliffhanger that are resolved near instantly and accomplish nothing except tricking you into thinking that finally, something, anything is about to happen? That, folks, is where my patience officially runs out. This show is a waste of my time, your time, and the time of every artist who worked on it. Skip it.

Phantom of the Idol: 6/10

Some things don’t need a deep reason for why you like them. Sometimes, just being a good time is good enough. And this heartfelt screwball comedy about a lazy, cynical male idol teaming up with the ghost of a former idol sensation to help advance his career without putting in the work himself is fun aplenty. Sure, it’s no Ya Boi Kongming, and the lackluster CG during the actual idol performances isn’t gonna blow anyone away. But it’s got good jokes, lovably eccentric characters, a sharp sense of comedic timing, and just enough sincerity to balance out the high-tempo wackiness. This is popcorn entertainment at its most easily digestible; it won’t blow you away, but it’s a good time guaranteed if you’re just looking for something to kick back and enjoy without thinking about it too much.

Shadows House Season 2: 6/10

Shadows House was one of last years’ most pleasant surprises, a slow-burn gothic shonen mystery that slipped neatly into the Promised Neverland-shaped hole left by that show’s misbegotten second season. Few anime settings in recent years have been as memorable as the titular house, and the first season left me eager to see Kate and Emilico continue their slowly blossoming revolution. Unfortunately, while season 2 keeps the twists coming hot and heavy with even more fascinating revelations about the systems governing this nightmare mansion, the narrative machinery feels on much less solid footing this time around. Answers come from awkward places and drawn-out exposition dumps, some reveals feel shortchanged, and there’s a frustrating sense that too many of these answers are coming not from the characters putting the pieces together of their own accord, but the narrative just dropping the answers in their laps. If Cloverworks decides to come back for a third season, I hope they’re able to tighten up the story’s structure and make its progression feel more natural. Because there are some damn exciting developments brought about by this season’s end, and I’d hate to see their potential squandered with writing that doesn’t earn their fallout.

Drifting Home: 7/10

Well, this was a pleasant surprise! Studio Colorido has been making this exact kind of whimsical-yet-poignant kids’ adventure flick forever, but this is the first one I’d call an unqualified success (at least from what I’ve seen; I hear Penguin Highway is supposedly pretty great). A bunch of kids break in to explore the worn-out, set-for-demolition apartment building one of them used to live, only for that building to somehow become stranded out at sea with no clear way home. What follows is a far more thematically complex odyssey than one might expect from this movie’s lighthearted exterior. Drifting Home is a story about, well, drifting away from home, about the pain of leaving a home behind and the fear of never being able to replace the sense of love and security that home gave you. But it’s also about those abandoned homes themselves and the emotions tangled up within them, how they reflect the lives lived within them and carry those memories even after they’re left behind. It’s a shockingly heady film, and even at two hours it feels like it could’ve used a little more time just to give it all space to breathe. But it mostly all comes together thanks to the gorgeous animation (seriously, Colorido is really starting to give Ghibli a run for its hyper-romaticized naturalism money), creative high concepts, and instantly lovable cast of child protagonists. Check it out if you’ve got a couple hours to kill; this is one adventure you won’t regret getting swept up in.

The Girl from the Other Side: 7/10

I remember a couple years back when Studio Wit put out a ten-minute short based on this bewitching fantasy manga. Even in such a bite-sized format, it was one of the most evocative pieces of animation I’d ever seen, and I knew I would never know peace until it got a full-length treatment. Well, that day has come at last, and surprising nobody, this movie adaptation of The Girl from the Other Side is absolutely mesmerizing. In a dreary fantasy world beset by curse and corruption, a lost human girl finds solace in the company of a cursed being still trying to hold onto his humanity. The exact details of the world and its greater context are left deliberately hazy; if you’re looking for meticulous fantasy worldbuilding, this isn’t the place to turn. What you get instead, though, is a gorgeous fantasia that makes you feel like you’re wandering the very woods where all those Grimm’s fairy tales took place in. The thick, ink-textured textured animation is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, equal parts terrifyingly supernatural, serenely archaic, and achingly human. And while the story may be as perfectly predictable as any other “jaded old dude takes care of a precocious little girl” plot, the vibes are so immaculate that it doesn’t really matter. If you’ve got an hour to kill, then you absolutely owe it to yourself to give this movie a watch. It’s a dream- or a nightmare- you won’t want to wake up from anytime soon.

Ao Ashi (2nd Half): 7.5/10

I said in my quick thoughts on Ao Ashi’s first half that this show is exactly what I needed to fill the Haikyuu-shaped hole in my heart. While that remains true, the second half has revealed one significant caveat: Ao Ashi has significantly weaker antagonists than Haikyuu. The strength of Haikyuu’s cast was that every player felt like the protagonist of their own story, with understandable goals and dreams, so you couldn’t help but root for them even when they went up against Karasuno. Ao Ashi’s antagonists are aiming for that same kind of energy, but they’re much more one-note and cartoonishly mean. I’m sorry, I can’t take this Akatsu guy seriously as a bully when by all rights he should’ve been kicked off the team for his shitty behavior by now. It’s far from enough to kill the show, thankfully, and the arrival of a shockingly great romantic subplot is more than enough to keep Ao Ashi as one of this year’s biggest delights. And now that the end of Haikyuu’s anime has been announced, I hope Production IG sticks with this one for the long haul as well. With a little stronger production, this could easily become the next sports anime juggernaut.

Made in Abyss Season 2: 8.5/10

You know, it’s funny. I spend most of the first half of Made in Abyss’ second season complaining about how it wasn’t as good as the rest of the series. The Golden City is visually boring and we spend way too much time in it! It’s overly reliant on shock value for the sake of shock value that doesn’t add anything to the overall message! The animation is so much more limited and reliant on ugly CGI (gee I wonder if making this in between seasons of a certain garbage isekai adaptation took a toll on the production)! But then the turning point hit halfway through the season, and it was like nothing had changed at all. The back half of Golden City of the Scorching Sun is as heartbreaking, horrifying, and unspeakably beautiful as Made in Abyss has ever been, finally tying the sixth layer’s meandering threads together into a single awe-inspiring tapestry of loss, vengeance, and what it means to find value in a world that doesn’t offer it easily. By the time it was all over, I barely remembered the awkward, subpar footing it had all started on. Made in Abyss is not an easy show to process, and it’s probably only going to get more and more difficult to stomach as we plunge into the Abyss’ deepest recesses. But while season 2 may be the weakest outing overall, it’s yet further proof why this twisted nightmare of a journey is one of the greatest fantasy anime of all time.

Lycoris Recoil: 8.5/10

You know what I love? When an anime comes out of nowhere and absolutely takes the world by storm. Lycoris Recoil wasn’t really on my radar before the season started, and what few trailers I watched didn’t do much to sell me on its weird mishmash of cute girls doing hardcore assassin work. Well, just slap a big fat egg on my face, because this bonkers original project is one of the most exciting things you or I or anyone else is likely to watch all year. Yes, it’s a little iffy that our protagonists are essentially government-sanctioned child sleeper agents tasked with keeping the peace by murdering anyone who even threatens to disturb it. And while the show does its best to wring some interesting thematic ideas from that concept- authoritarian security vs anarchic freedom, the ethics of killing for government- it’s far from a perfect treatise on the subject. You know what it does do perfectly, though? Basically everything else. Top-tier action, inspired direction and cinematography, consistently spectacular animation for fight scenes and comedy bits alike, a roller-coaster plot that perfectly balances hilarious slice-of-life shenanigans with the intensity of shootouts and car chases, actual canon gay representation (though not in the way you might expect), and two of the most pitch-perfect protagonists to ever share a screen. Seriously, Chisato and Takina own my entire soul and I apologize for nothing. Lycoris Recoil may not be a philosophical masterpiece, but it’s popcorn entertainment at its absolute finest, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Cyberpunk Edgerunners: 9/10

Sound the alarm, folks: Trigger’s back on track to save anime again! I knew Cyberpunk Edgerunners was gonna be a great time from the moment its first trailer dropped: marrying Hiroyuki Imaishi’s iconic directing style with the neon-soaked atmosphere of the cyberpunk genre was a match so perfect you gotta wonder how we’re only just now getting around to it. What I didn’t expect, though, was just how goddamn great the story ended up being. Imaishi’s always relied on the back of his high-octane visual style, and the thematic ideas that style alone conveys, to cover for the actual writing being kind of a hot mess. But Edgerunners gives him a genuinely great script to work with for the first time, and the results are magical. This tale of an impoverished teenager lashing out against the hypercapitalist system he lives under and finding companionship among fellow societal rejects may not break much new ground for the cyberpunk genre, but it delivers the single most exhilarating, heartbreaking, and breathtaking version of that story I’ve ever seen. And Imaishi’s style doesn’t just make that story pop, it infuses even the most played-out plot points with astonishing new life. This may well be his best work as a director, and I do not say that lightly. Cyberpunk Edgerunners is easily Netflix’s best anime since Devilman Crybaby, and I consider it a must-watch for anyone who can handle the intensity of its bloody action. Never before has something so perfectly embodied its genre while simultaneously feeling like nothing else that genre has ever produced.

[monday2econlive]

Dallas Higgins

Econ 20A

3/15/23

Greetings all,

To preface this post, I will give context as to why I'm making it. I am about to embark on a journey of starting my first serious business. I’ve worked as a boat mechanic now for a few years and I recently proposed a business idea to my boss/shop owner. I pitched the idea of opening an online parts shop, using drop shipping to avoid inventory costs and using our existing wholesale contracts as a source of products. This economics course has been an inspiration for me to have confidence to start this business and be confident in my skills to manage it.

The main topic from this course I want to cover is Short run monopolistic competition.

So we we have a profitable business model here. However with Covid effects being the emphasis of this we can change the graph to show how changes effect my possible short run profits with the effect of shrinking margins caused by increased cost of production.

The factors that the graph cover are a little bit different from the actual firms that produce vs. all the way to the final seller (me).

So with cost increase the only way to reach an equilibrium would to be to increase the price and decrease the quantity we sell to maintain the profit margin. If the market is at a point where raising the cost will put you passed the demand curve and the ATC increases all that is left is to accept the smaller profit margin.

ATC across all industries, especially my industry, has gone up exponentially with inflation of raw material. Tons of things are made out of stainless and aluminium which are both up over 200%. The factors of my specific business do change some variables. Obviously a businesses profitability depends on more then profit margins on a given product. In my case the business will be run with very low fixed costs and scaled variable costs via drop shipping that scale up and down with order volume. At the end of the day with this industry having a lot of differentiated products, my answer to rising ATC costs would be to only offer sale of items that remain logical to sell on the demand curve.

The next thing from this course that I found to be helpful for an analysis of market is the idea of demand curves.

I’ve had to do a ton market research in finding MSRP’s for popular products that allow me to sell under established firms or even places like Amazon and eBay. Most companies or seller can’t afford to undercut the large corporate sized seller. However with my low fixed cost and scaling variable cost it allows me to undercut the competition. I’ve used some of the data I’ve complied to build demand curves for certain products. Its very helpful to utilise these graphs to help see where the market demand is for a product. In this market it can be summed up as lowest man wins the sale, its not quite as simple as a theoretical graph where everyone will sell guaranteed at a price and quantity. For every sale I make someone selling at a higher price looses a sale.

Over all this course has opened my eyes to a lot of economic strategy that will apply to my new business venture as well as future entrepreneurial ventures after college.

[kodzukyan]

better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

[broken-stardust]

Budding Sunshine

Summary: Reader has something to tell Spencer.

Category: Dad!Spencer with TransMale!Reader Angst/Fluff

A/n: this is for a fathers day thing my friends are putting together but I also love the idea of Spencer being the supportive dad I didn’t have at first

Content warnings: misgendering, bullying, homophobia, transphobia, f slur, (used once) dysphoria

Word Count: 1.4k

Within a week of his daughter getting her hair cut short, he noticed her mood drop exponentially. The day of, she had a new confidence about her, almost like she was a completely different person, but now, sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework on a Friday night, Spencer could tell something was off. Her shoulders were slouched over, her shirt halfway untucked, and it looked as if she'd been crying. It didn't take a profiler to tell that she was hurting. She always came to her dad when she needed help with something, but this past week she'd been distant. 

Maybe she was just at that age, Spencer told himself. She was 13, of course. He'd read enough parenting manuals to know that children begin to grow distant when they hit puberty. He knew the science behind it, too. As a young person matures, they want to figure out who they are as an individual, and they need a level of independence for that. 

Still, Spencer couldn't help but worry when he heard a little sniffle come from the table while he cooked dinner. Determined to help his daughter through whatever it was that was bothering her, he lowered the flame on the macaroni and cheese and took a seat next to her. Even if she told him to leave her alone, which was a strong possibility, he had to at least try. 

"Hey, Sunshine," he said. "What's up?"

~

I looked up from my geometry homework when I heard my dad's voice. I tried to wipe away my tears as inconspicuously as I could, but I knew it wouldn't work. He gently took hold of my hand as I reached for my face and placed it back down on my lap, opting to dry my tears with his hand instead. 

"Hey, Dad," I squeaked, grimacing at how high my voice came out. I looked anywhere I could to avoid eye contact, eventually picking up my pencil and focusing back on my homework. "How's it going?"

My dad sighed gently and plucked the pencil out of my hand, taking my hand in his instead. I looked up at him then, seeing concern swirling in his eyes. I almost started crying again just from knowing that I was making him so upset. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" he said. 

Of course, I did. I'd come to my dad for every problem I'd had in the past. This just felt... different. If I told him, he'd look at me differently. Things would change, and I didn't want them to. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded instead. He opened his mouth to say something, but I decided that I should just say it and get it out of the way. So that's what I did. 

"Ithinkimaboy."

There were a few seconds of silence which felt like hours before my dad said "what?"

"I-" I took a deep breath. "I think I'm a boy," I said more clearly. 

Another moment passed as my dad processed the information I'd just dropped on him like a bomb, and I suddenly wished that I had been in its path, blown to smithereens so I wouldn't have to witness the aftermath of my confession. 

"Alright."

The word hung in the air between us like a wrecking ball swinging side to side, ready to knock either of us down. Well, really it was just ready to knock me down. 

"Alright?" I repeated, dumbfounded at my father's reaction. It wasn't that I didn't expect him to be supportive; I knew he would be. I just hadn't expected such a calm reaction. 

"Yeah. You know, 0.6% of the American population is transgender. People are figuring out their gender identity and coming out at younger ages these days, so it's not surprising that you're having these feelings at your age. Puberty and the development of secondary sex characteristics can often lead transgender individuals to realize that they are, in fact, transgender." 

"Dad!" I giggled, squirming at the mention of puberty. "That's gross."

He laughed right along with me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to kiss the top of my head before rustling my hair. With that, the light-hearted moment was gone, and my face fell as I remembered the real reason I was so upset. 

"That's not why you've been crying all week though," my dad observed, still playing with my hair. "Is it?" I shook my head and willed the tears not to come rolling down. "What's wrong, Sunshine?"

"Well I was really happy with my haircut," I fiddled with my fingers as I spoke even though I knew it was a dead giveaway as to how anxious I was. I couldn't help it. 

"Yeah, you were," Dad recalled with a smile. "You were basically bouncing off the walls."

"I was really excited to show it off at school." As I continued, the tears I'd been willing not to spill began to pour out of my eyes. "My friends asked me why I cut it so short, and I decided to tell them I'm trans..." I trailed off then, unsure of how to get the words out of my mouth. 

"It didn't go so well, did it?"

I shook my head and wiped away my tears, only for more to slide down my pink cheeks. 

"They said I was disgusting," I sobbed. "They called me a faggot."

Dad pulled me in for a hug and whispered words of affirmation into my head as I wet his shirt with my sorrows. My muffled cries slowly got quieter as he played with my hair, and eventually, I was the one to pull away. 

"This has been happening all week?" he asked. The worry in his eyes was abundant, and my heart broke a little. I knew what he'd gone through in school, and I knew he hated seeing something like that happen to me. "Have you told anyone?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. 

"I didn't want to get people's parents involved," I explained. "Things get worse when the adults step in. I thought I could handle it."

Dad shook his head slightly before resting it in his hand. I could tell that he was trying to think of a plan for how to deal with this. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it. 

"Monday morning, we're going to talk to the principal together."

I was right. 

He explained to me that we weren't going to complain about the bullies; we were going to come out and ask that my information be changed in the school's database. He wanted all the teachers to know to call me by the right name and pronouns. And if kids were going to be assholes, I could deal with it now that I had him on my side. 

"I assume you do have a name you want to go by?" he asked eventually as we hatched our plan. I smiled. I was waiting for this. 

"Yeah," I beamed. "Can you please call me Y/N from now on?"

"Y/N," he repeated slowly as if taking in the information, soaking it all up so as not to forget it. "I like that name. It suits you."

If I hadn't been smiling before, I sure was now. Hearing my dad use the name I'd chosen for myself made my heart soar. 

"Thanks, Dad," I said with a smile. 

"Sure thing, Bud," he said in return. 

I'd been tear-free for at least ten minutes now, and one single word had just ruined that streak. With three simple letters, my dad broke down what seemed to be the walls of a dam behind my eyes, and I was suddenly crying again. I could see the panic in his eyes as he rushed to comfort me. 

"Hey, hey," he said rubbing soothing circles on my back. "What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

I shook my head with a big dopey smile glued to my face. 

"I just really like the nickname Bud."

My dad let out a huge sigh of relief when he realized I was now crying happy tears. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by a loud screeching sound coming from throughout the house. The fire alarm. 

"The mac and cheese!" I yelled, and he turned around, running to turn off the flame under the now burnt cheesy pasta. As I opened the window to air out the kitchen, Dad reset the fire alarm. 

"Do you want to start it over again?" I asked. He looked at me with tired eyes. "Or we could order a pizza," I offered instead. 

"That's my boy," he said, pulling me in for another hug.

[purpleyellow]

Hide & Seek

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The two times Bee avoided Mark and the one she didn’t”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛

Growing up, in general, is a pain in the ass, and Bee isn't the happiest about having to deal with it. She doesn't know if it's because of how she was raised, or if it's just her personality, but the girl cannot see herself as an adult.

You see, adults are supposed to manage five different tasks, have most things thought out, and try to handle everything that comes their way. Bee, however, wants to lay in bed at every minor inconvenience and wishes she could freeze time so she can digest what's happening.

She can see herself as those five-year-olds who pout, cross their arms and look away when you tell them they can't have ice cream for dinner. Just like she can see Jeno as those parents who bribe their kids to eat vegetables with a false promise of going to the ice cream parlor on the next day.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Jeno whispers to Bee midst the chaos in the van. The first time she successfully avoids Mark is when the members are leaving SM after a long day of figuring out stuff for the comeback. Things were only starting to come together, and the boy knows that if Mark and the girl don't figure out everything soon it's not going to be a fun process.

"I don't have anything to say" She mumbles looking out of the window. Jeno turns her head back to him before continuing.

"Maybe Mark has something. Or maybe he has questions"

"Good for him" She simply states. "I already said everything, so I'm not helpful to talk to"

"And you stand by everything you said almost six months ago?" He asks while trying not to laugh "You didn't think about it anymore? There, you said it and moved on"

"Yes, I stand by everything" She lies. Bee has relived every single conversation she has had with or about Mark especially lately, cringing at some stuff she said, making up better answers, and overanalyzing every little word even if they don't mean a thing. Jeno probably knows she does that, yet she's not going to admit that easily, because admitting means confronting the situation.

"Just maybe think things are exponentially worst when you're trying to avoid the topic instead of solving it once and for all" The boy mumbles and she rolls her eyes. Mentally thanking the manager who happened to pull up next to their building

Trying to escape that conversation as fast as possible, Bee holds onto the back of the seat in front of her, accidentally hitting Jaemin in the head, and jumps past Jeno, who frows as he watches her bolt out of the vehicle.

The girl only stops as she reaches the elevator because of the light feeling on her hoodie pocket. She had left her phone behind, throwing away all the work she just put into getting to her room without speaking with anyone else.

Walking back to the van, Bee keeps her head down to avoid making eye contact and waves off Renjun after he shared a proverb about people skipping a step only to return two. Honestly, he might have said something different because the meaning flew right above her head.

The manager, who had also left the vehicle to check on something at their apartment, throws his keys for her to catch and tells her to be quick.

Bee goes straight to the seat she had occupied and starts searching through the openings where the phone might have fallen from, ultimately deciding it was somewhere on the floor. Patting away underneath hers and Jeno's seat, she finally moves on to the row in front of them, getting scared by a light and the muffled sound of her phone ringing.

Almost like a miracle, she was getting a call from someone who might have saved her a couple of seconds of searching. Reaching out for the device, her smug grin turns to a frown as the name "Minhyung from Canada" shines on her screen. A confused noise leaves her mouth while Bee gets up from the floor, though her debating over either answering or not doesn't go very far due to said Canadian standing at the door of the van.

"I thought if I helped out find it, you would finally listen to me," Mark says, ending the call. Though, it seems like that was the only line he had rehearsed because after it they both stay in awkward silence, making Bee look down at the device in her hands before raising an eyebrow.

"Well, my hand touched it before the call got connected?" She, not as confidently, lies again.

Mark shakes his head adamantly "No it didn't"

"Do you have eyes on the floor?" The girl frowns trying to make that topic last longer but he doesn't fall for it.

"Yunhee," He says in a disappointed tone which Bee copies by saying "Mark"

Mark raises one eyebrow feeling rather playfully. "Mark Oppa?" and she rolls her eyes while planing an escape route.

The boy seems to remember what he was there for and scratches his head, suddenly bringing back the awkward mood.

"We should clear everything up, you know" His tone is back to uncertain surprising her by the sudden change and Bee feels her hands clamming up. She knows he's waiting for her to show any kind of reaction but for some reason, she cannot have any.

"Guys, I have to get the car back to the building. You can keep the conversation going at either of your dorms" The manager pops his head through the driver’s seat before climbing it. Bee hands him the keys and both idols slowly step out of the vehicle. Her mind is still blankly looking for a way to avoid listening to whatever the older had to say when the man magically says something that fixes all of her problems. "Actually, Mark come here, it's about 127's schedule tomorrow, something came up"

And she doesn't stay to listen as she bolts to the elevator that's taking her to her safe and Mark-free bedroom.

☆☆☆

The second time Bee avoids him, or gets saved by another person, happened a few days after the van accident when she rapidly types on her phone while running to the end of the hallway where the SM elevators are.

The sound indicating the doors opening on her floor catches her attention and Bee doesn't have to fully look inside the place to see Mark standing on the edge, ready to walk out of it. Almost without thinking, her feet make her turn left into another hallway and she instinctively makes her way to the room she had visited many times before.

Bee knows for a fact Mark is supposed to go to the studio she had just left, so the fact she can hear him doing the same route she is, makes adrenaline pump inside of her and the girl starts sprinting as fast as she can.

She finds it stupid how her brain suddenly read that moment as her being chased by something dangerous, but there's not enough time to let her process the situation. Instead, Bee barges through the door of Kun's studio and throws herself onto the space between the empty couch and the wall.

Crouching so she's hidden by the armrest, Bee simply says "I'm not here" before staring at the floor in front of her, making the WayV leader question why he's even surprised at that point.

A series of three knocks on the door makes Kun get up and go greet whoever had the decency to announce themselves before interrupting his work like half of his groupmates usually do. Keeping the door half-opened, he's half surprised by Mark standing a little distance away while seemingly sorry to be in that position.

"Hyung, my bad for coming here. But I was wondering if I could talk to Bee" The boy says scratching his eyebrow.

"I mean, of course, you can" Kun starts making the girl's heart drop "I'm not sure why you're asking me, though. And next time you see her, let her know I also need to speak with her"

"Oh, yeah. Sure?" Mark says uncertainly tilting his head and closing his eyes. He stares inside the room through the small space Kun allowed and sighs defeated "Sorry about it, I'll just go"

Waving to the boy, Kun waits for him to walk a little before closing the door and turning to the hidden girl. "You know we could see the top of your head, right?"

"Wait, he saw me?" Bee asks with wide eyes, supporting her head on the armrest and the boy rolls his eyes "Probably yes. The kid is just too polite to say anything about it"

Standing up from the ground, the girl sits on the couch to wait for a little before leaving the room. Kun takes the opportunity to throw himself back on his chair and interrogates her.

"Why are you avoiding Mark?"

"I stole his charger so now he's mad" She pouts looking at the ground making the older scoff.

"I'm not buying anything that simple. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been almost daily in our dorm instead of hanging out with your unit. We like when you visit but it became a little weird when we're not even there yet you still go hide inside our apartment"

"It's too complicated" She sighs craning her neck to check the clock "And I'm actually late for something, so you'll have to deal with my stupid high school problems sometime later"

"They're only stupid because you thought over them a million times and began downplaying whatever they are. You can't do that forever and you know it"

"Confrontation makes me cry, so I'll try my best to keep pushing it away" Bee smiles like something uplifting was said and stands up "See you later"

"Sure, good luck with your date" Kun smirks turning back to the table and checking on his work. Noticing she hadn't actually left the door he lets out a chuckle "Chenle told me about it"

"It's not a date. Chenle was literally invited to tag along" Bee rolls her eyes and he shrugs despite not looking back at her.

"Sure, have fun"

☆☆☆

Ever since Mark first showed his confusion over how things were going, Bee tried really hard not to make the situation awkward for everyone. She didn't want them to be extra careful around her, nor feel like this big dramatic thing was going on between the group. And to lessen her worries, the dreamies seemed to act the same they had always been.

There is the fact she isn't talking to Mark, but much to her surprise, the girl realized she never really relied a lot on speaking to him. Pretending everything was fine became part of her routine for that two weeks.

But just like Kun caught onto her distancing herself, a bunch of staff members also did. The choreographer who first introduced them to the routine asked her a couple of times if everything was okay, and the producer noticed the idol was out of the room the time she was finished, not really mingling like the rest of the boys.

Those two didn't really say anything about it, since she was still getting work done. That isn't the same for the management team, who not only saw her change in behavior but feared how much of that would be noticeable in videos and the overall dynamic of what they had waiting for the comeback.

"Bee, can I talk to you for a second" One particular manager called for her as she was resting on the corner of the dance studio.

Bee gathered her things in a pile on the floor and got up to follow him out of the room. The man had worked with NCT for a really long time, but he wasn't the closest manager to her, nor had ever taken care of her individual schedules. She knew whatever he had to tell her wasn't going to be very good.

"We don't want to intrude on whatever is going on in your life. But the moment it affects the group I'm afraid somebody needs to step in" The man sighs walking slowly next to her "If you're not feeling well, or something happened to make you not want to be around the members you need to act on it, or tell somebody so no one gets suspicious of it"

"I'll make sure no one notices it" She mumbles playing with her ring and rolls her shoulders "It's not something to be worried about though. Nothing really happened"

"We'll some people started to point out on Jisung's graduation video that you're often really quiet. Considering your personality it's nothing out of the ordinary, but you can't afford it pilling up and fans talking about it. We're aware of what that saesang said last year and don't think the company forgets easily if more fans start thinking you don't want to be in the group or doesn't belong in it, it's going to be a big problem"

"More people are talking about it?" Bee glances once again to the ring Renjun made her wear.

"It's a small number so far, but there are those who think that by Mark coming back and you being a little quieter, your place might be in another unit," He notices her gaze turning down and places a hand on her shoulder"Don't stress over it right now, just dedicate yourself a little more to the group and show you have a place in it. It should pass after some time"

Patting her, he reminds her to 'go back to normal before heading back to his work. Bee feels a slight headache creeping in and sneaks into a smaller room dedicated to vocal training, where she drops her body on a chair and closes her eyes to either sleep or try to gather some courage and face everything she has avoided so far.

The girl ends up doing neither because a few seconds pass and Mark pushes his head inside the room.

"Can we talk now?" He asks and without any energy left, Bee nods to the chair next to her for him to sit.

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

[strongbrew-hamstery]

Early Christmas morning #AJ and #Harvey welcomed their first litter into the world! This is the first time I've had a litter born on a truly significant holiday and while normally I'd wait a few days to introduce them I wanted to do so today as the theme is relevant to Christmas. They are the #ConiferousCuties as an ode to Christmas trees so they will be named after various varieties of coniferous trees. If you have suggestions feel free to drop them in the comments! AJ is doing an amazing job as a momma, far better than her own momma Piddles was (@once.upon.a.hamster 😂). Her tummy has been expanding exponentially as you can see and I'm fairly confident her pups cumulatively weigh more than Harvey... But that's okay! He may be little but he sure is fertile 😂. This litter, and these lines are a side project of mine. As you know I don't work with cream or umbrous and yet Harvey is both those things 😂 this is a white belly/roan line I am maintaining for my good friend and colleague, Holmden Hill Haven. I've enjoyed learning a lot about the white belly gene and appreciate AJ and Harvey giving me a big litter to get more practice in (in contrast Piddles only had two pups - though we lucked out since AJ is white bellied!). While I may not be a fan of cream I am a huge fan of sable roan so I truly hope we get a bunch! If anyone wants to play with their genotypes and figure out what we are expecting: A- Ee P- Whwh L- Aa ee pp U- L- Loving our Christmas miracles 🥰 I can't wait to meet them! https://www.instagram.com/p/CX6klLMlefE/?utm_medium=tumblr

[cadopan]

You know, I really couldn't care less about what Kerr does with her shirt or not. Let's not go round accusing Arsenal twitter of being misogynists for not liking it, though they were being a bit over the top with their disdain. Like, I definitely rolled my eyes when I saw it because I wanted a draw (not just for Arsenal's benefit but because i think Villa deserved it!) but her celebrations have always been loud and dramatic like the ridiculous backflips, whether we like it or not. It's just her football personality 🤷🏽‍♀️

Focusing back on Arsenal, overall, what are your thoughts on how we've been doing?

Right now of course, Chelsea are in the drivers seat to overtake us and win it by a point, and there is nothing we can do about it. They have to make mistakes that we have no control over. We just have to win all our upcoming games and hopefully, we can do so decisively and in good form.

Personally I feel that at the end of the day, even if we lose by that one point, I still see us as having done very well this season. I think we have grown by leaps and bounds in terms of mentality, we've seen players like Beth blossom in confidence and consistency, players like Lia and Cait who started off shakier but upon finding their rhythm or being played in position, doing really well. I think that this season, Viv's an even better player than she always has been because she's a freer player, and I believe the club has made very wise transfers. The quality of the WSL has improved tremendously over the last one or two years so the fact that we are still riding high says something. It's also been a few years since we've been so comfortably certain about UCWL qualification.

The first season with a new manager, major changes in players coming in and out, different playing positions for some, and still we are at number 1? I feel like this is shaping up to be a positive omen for the coming years, and if we can keep injuries at bay, it think we can do even better next season.

PS: what would be an improvement next year is if January 2023 is not shit. Our Januarys are always shit. 🤪

Heylo!

I mean yeah, I'm pretty much the same as you that her shirtless celly doesn't bother me, she can do whatever she wants. I said I was doubtful about the shade towards her having misogynistic undertones (cause I think it was largely just frustration from watching Chelsea rescue themselves), however, the tweet that anon pointed out kinda made sense if you think about it...

I actually think I would love her celebrations if I were a Chelsea/Matildas/Kerr fan, but I can also see how it's extra off-putting if you're none those 😂

Back to us, at the rate we’re going (and how the team seems to be finding their groove more and more each week), I’m feeling confident that we can go and win all our games till the end of season. But like you said, it’s all down to Chelsea up till the point that they make a mistake and if they even do so. 

A mutual pointed out that Chelsea have already dropped as many points as they did all of last season, and doesn’t think they’ll go straight wins in all remaining nine games 👀 While that was news to me, I’m still a little weary... True that many will see Chelsea struggling against Villa as a sign that more unexpected teams can take points off them, but for me it’s down to how long Harder/Kirby/Eriksson are out for. Cause once they’re back, Chelsea look exponentially dangerous again, and it’s the hope that kills you 💀

I definitely agree with your whole paragraph about the massive step-up we’ve had in terms of quality of play and players looking like renewed versions of themselves!! I feel like everyone, including the team, would love to clinch the title within a single season after the revamp (and would be just as bummed if we don’t), but all things considered — I would call it a successful season already. Again as you mentioned, the transfer policy was immaculate from the beginning of the season and it looks like we now have a great group of players that can reach another dimension if given the time to gel and push one another 👍 Personally, the jury is still out on Jonas bc he was completely intolerable when we were self-combusting and the midfield was choking over itself, but he’s seemed to have gotten the players alive and clicking again. I’ll give credit to him for the influence he’s had in training etc (which players mentioned often too) but less so for what I’ve seen of his management during actual matches bc those haven’t particularly impressed so far. 

Oh, and I can’t state enough how much I agree that the WSL is improving by leaps and bounds! The quality of teams (particularly those outside the usual top 4 suspects) have been on a completely different level this year; it actually shocks me how much change a single season can make, because I was nowhere near this impressed whenever I watched these lower-ranked teams last season. And I hate to compliment them but even Spurs, a complete 180 from what they were like last season! They were playing the most dour football and struggling to stay afloat while now they’re challenging for a UWCL spot 👏 Super credit to the investments made in these clubs and the managers for doing respectable jobs. 

p.s. you were mentioning the Januarys, but don’t forget the Decembers. The final month of last year was pretty terrible too 😮‍💨

[blizzardfluffykpop]

M&M’s

Summary: Need a tutor? Well, you’ve come to the right school, we have just the one for you. And he’s attractive too. 

Do or Not Series

Fluff 

Word Count: 2,346

Hongseok X Reader

Of all my time at school, I never thought I would need tutoring. I was an A+ student when I started failing my classes. My grades were in the trash, and I had no idea how to improve or even raise them. How do you even study? Why is college structured like this? UGH! So now here I am sitting in the Dean’s office listening to them preach about how I need to learn from this person to pass. That they won’t hold it against me if I pass because of this tutor. All I have to do is pass the exams, and if I pass. I will move up to the Sophomore year. How am I supposed to pass a class that I’m not participating? And who is this person they are setting me up with? As if to answer my question, they say, “He should be here any moment.” 

Like on queue, the door opens to reveal a rather attractive guy. They expect me to be able to study next to him? Oh god, I am so screwed, even worse than I was before. Okay, (Y/n), put your game face on and act like he does not affect you. “This is your tutor, Hongseok, and Hongseok this is (Y/n). I think you two will do well together.” We exchange a polite ‘hello’. Then the Dean tells him what the expectations are for the both of us. And I cannot help but feel my anxiety spike at each time he mentions ‘study’, ‘quiz’, and ‘pass’. What happened to cruising through school? Why is it no longer easy to pass? What did I miss when I was younger?

I was missing the old school structure. That I was memorizing what they said to forget it later. Because back then, as long as I knew the basics, I could pass. It wasn't like those classes were hard either. They repeated the same things over and over. So it was easy to remember, Hongseok had explained to me at our first meeting in the library. He wanted to know why I was failing and what made me remember best. I shrugged and said, 'probably repetition and listening' I wasn't sure, but that was the best guess I had. I never thought of ways to study because I never needed to beforehand. He grinned, “I know you wouldn’t believe it, but my first year here, I didn’t study. I didn’t know how or what worked for me or how I even learned. It took me to the last semester to realize what it was. Once it clicked, it was too late, and I barely passed my exams. To make up for me failing everything else, they asked me to tutor someone.” While I couldn’t believe my ears, something in my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Thus I decided that he was my best bet to make it into my sophomore year. 

The following Wednesday, we are stuck inside the library again. When we get settled in our seats, he pulls out two packages of m&m’s. “What are those for?” I ask, and he shrugs and says, “You’ll see.” I pull out my books, a pencil, and a notebook. I’m worried he will look down on me for not having any past homework or past tests. But I threw them all out in exhaustion and frustration. I couldn’t deal with that massive amount of failure. But rather than saying anything, he pulls out some flashcards and a calculator. “Let’s start with math.” 

Every time I got a question right, he gave me an m&m. My stomach growled at me every time I would get something wrong and lose out on an m&m. Not that I couldn’t reach in and get one, but the m&m's are rewards for whenever I get something right. Plus, he would give me his charming smile every time I got something correct, so I strived to get them correct. 

It wasn’t until we finished math and science and we were walking out together. That I noticed, he was catering to the way I learned. Repeating steps with me or asking me the questions out loud and going through the steps with me. Whether it be an example or how to fix my mistakes, my heart skips a beat as he asks to walk me home. 

"So, do you like university other than this?" I shrug, "It could be better, but generally I like it. Everyone I met is kind, like my roommates Changgu and Yanan. Like you're kind and sweet, I wanna thank you for helping me out." He grins, "You're helping me out too. I don't think either of us wishes to repeat Freshman year." I laugh and agree, "What about you? Do you like it here?" He shrugs, "It's okay. I don't have a roommate, but I have quite a few friends. So it helps, plus once you know how to study, it makes it so much easier." I laugh, "Yeah,... if I ever get to that point." When we reach my dormitory I tell him, "This is my stop." As I head inside, he yells, “I’ll see you this Sunday for History and [Subject].” I yell back my agreement and walk up the stairs to my room. I thought this would drag and not want to show up. But he makes me look forward to studying with him. Throwing my finished m&m bag away, I walk to my dorm with a proud smile on my face. 

Like clockwork every Wednesday and Sunday, I spend the whole afternoon studying. And he would ask me to study for little quizzes that he would give me on Thursdays. They are over everything we have ever been over together. With each test I passed, my confidence grew, and so did my feelings. 

Out of all the days that I spend with him, Thursdays have to be the hardest. With each test, I take the harder they become. I feel like my soul almost leaves my body every time he grades them. How his face turns up in cute ways, trying to figure out my process. Or when I get something right, he sends me a beautiful smile or his pout when I miss a question. His faces make my heart flutter while my stomach wants to throw up from fear of failure. Between the two, I can never seem to stomach Thursdays. 

While I have learned my study pattern, I still have to pass this course with him or I fail. While I’m taking a quiz, three Thursdays before my exam, he tells me. “I can already tell you that you are going to succeed with flying colors. So if you fail this quiz, take it with a grain of salt. You have to fail sometimes to succeed.” The first page was easy I knew all the answers without a problem. I rushed through them, and the next page was a little harder. When I got to the eighth page, I was starting to question whether I was studying. What does the eighth number of pi have anything to do with this course? I wish to cry as I take my best guess, which is all I can do when I reach the tenth page. I sigh in relief, it’s the last page it can’t be that hard, can it? Oh, yes, yes it can. “If you take the 4th number of the last answer. [Which I am positive I did not get right, considering that I only gave a two-digit answer to the last question]. Exponentially expand it by twenty-two. What is the number you get?” And that is the first part of the ten parted question. My brain craves a nap and a family-size bag of m&m’s. 

By the time I finish the last page, I am running on one brain cell. That is running around, throwing all the files in my brain into a shredder, and giving up. How did I not know a single answer after the third page? His face is in a pout after the second page, and my heart breaks. I don’t want him to disappoint him. I should study harder to make him proud of me. I groan internally, this is going worse than I expected. “Out of thirty questions, you got seven right!” He says in a cheery tone, and my heart falls out of my body, and my soul has ascended. 

“Remember what I said when you started taking the test?” I rack my brain for answers and find nothing. I shake my head 'no', and he pouts, “Aw,... Well, I said take it with a grain of salt. Maybe some quizzes are made impossible.” My jaw drops, “You did that on purpose--!” He shrugs, “Did I?” He makes me rethink what I said, and I pout and cross my arms over my chest. He hands me a pack of m&m’s, “Maybe study harder.” He winks, and I push him to the side when we get up to leave the building. “You know you passed the hardest question on the quiz, right?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “What?” He grins, “None of your work made sense, but in the end, you answered four on the last question, and that was the right answer.” I smile, “Sometimes taking your best guess works. Also, four happens to be the professor's favorite number, so if you aren’t sure, guess that.” My jaw drops open again as he ruffles my hair, “You did pretty well, (Y/n).” I brighten at his words and hug him. “I promise to study hard! Two more quizzes before the final test!” He laughs and hugs me back telling me, “You got this!” 

--

It wasn’t until the last study session that I realized how much I would miss Hongseok’s presence. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I got to my room, I was bawling. I wanted to see him more. I wanted to be around him and get to know him more. It took me a few moments, but I realized I fell for my tutor. How could I not? When I had a tutor like Hongseok,... Based on all calculations, I have a crush on him. I wonder if he likes me back, but there is only one way to know. Do I have enough courage for that? I’m not sure. I sigh and wipe my tears, saving them for a less important day. I need to study and pass these four exams. 

--

I spend hours studying for tomorrow, although I know my study method. It did not make studying any less boring. I missed Hongseok, who would crack a joke or grab us a snack. He made this so much easier studying five hours with him felt like two. Ugh, now five hours of studying feels like fifteen. At the sixth hour, I call it a day and pull the covers over my head, and dream of failing the exams. 

When my alarm clock finally rings, I’m happy to be up and away from those horrid dreams. With a brave face, I get ready for my exam day. I check my phone and see it’s Hongseok. He texted me, “Good luck on your exams! Fighting! You got this!” I smile and text him back, ‘thank you'. I got this, I keep reiterating to myself, but I can’t help but hear the doubtful voice in the back of my head. I am taking all my exams in one instance. So that means five hours of taking four different tests. While I know all the study sessions were preparing me for this moment, I want it to be over and done with already. 

--

Of course, none of the tests were easy they each pulled at my wit's end. I sit there for another thirty minutes waiting for them to grade my tests. Preparing myself for the worst news, I think about Hongseok’s encouragement. If he thinks I’ll pass, maybe he’s right. If it wasn’t just my grades on the line, I wouldn’t care as much. But when it comes to Hongseok, my heart is grasping at the hope that I made it above passing.

The professor looks up at me as I turn a page in my book. I set it down with a bookmark. They smile at me, “Your lowest is an 87,” I gulp, no way, “Your highest is a 99.” My brain is no longer processing words as I rush out of my seat to see my results. “Congratulations, (Y/n). You passed with flying colors.” I smile and shake their hand, thanking them, and skip out of the building. I passed. I really passed! Is this real? I'm not dreaming again, right? I pinch myself and let out a small ‘ouch’ definitely real. I skip out of the building and see someone wearing a blue sweatshirt sitting on the fountain. As I come up closer, I recognize them as Hongseok. I run up to him and hug him. He whispers, “Did you pass?” And I shake my head 'yes'. He runs his hands through my hair, “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you.” Hearing him say that my heart pounds, “Um, Hongseok,...” I pull away from him a bit, my arms still wrapped around him. He nods for me to continue, “Would you maybe,... possibly want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, “I was gonna ask you that!” We both laugh as he hands me a family-size pack of m&m's for us to share. We head over to my dorm, and that is the start of our new beginning. 

While we still study together, you can find us lying on the floor while watching the tv and throwing m&m's at each other. Making different kinds of foods together, making an even bigger mess in the kitchen. So yeah, if given the opportunity, I would fail my classes all over again. If it meant I got to meet Hongseok.

[yelena-bellova]

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Stay Alive

Series Masterlist

Plot: Poe returns from his Dreadnought attack and Y/n confronts him. Soon after, the First Order catches up to the Resistance.

Warnings: language, a steamy moment between Poe and the reader, angst

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Fun Fact: For someone with anxiety, writing fan fiction is nerve wracking for me. Sometimes I speed through it because of how wired I get, I worry about whether or not people will like it, it’s really hard sometimes. I’m going to try and take more time with each chapter so I can allow myself all the time I need to craft it exactly how I want it to be. Anyways, enjoy this one!! (And yes, the title is once again based on a Hamilton song)

————

“Want some company?”

Mom turned and gave a sad smile, “From anyone else, no. But I’ll always take time with you.”

I entered the empty room, almost afraid to disrupt the quiet atmosphere. I handed her the cup of tea I’d made for her which she accepted it gratefully, her expression shifting to false confidence for me.

I settled into the seat next to her, “Mom, you don’t need to put on a brave face for me. I was there…”

There were tears waiting in her eyes, it wasn’t just the loss of our bomb squad bothering her.

“Both times,” I finished, wrapping my arms around myself as a sad attempt at comforting myself.

Mom placed her head in her ring-clad hand, “For once in my life, I feel overwhelmed. I’ve lived through a war, the rebuild of the galaxy, raising two children, leading the Resistance and yet this,” she gestured to the space around us, “This is my tipping point…”

A tear slipped down her cheek, she didn’t bother to swipe it away. I knew that type of surrendering to grief well, why bother wiping one tear away when more would inevitably come?

“I haven’t even had time to grieve for him yet,” she stated softly, like saying it would make the loss real, “We may have been apart for the past few years but I loved your father, that never changed. Having him back for even just a little while was a gift, I was so looking forward to having both of you come home.”

Sadness rose in my chest, threatening to spill out in choked sobs and pained moans. I had to compartmentalize right now or else I would fall to the ground and not get back up. I needed to be there for Mom plus we’d have to go be General Organa and Commander Solo momentarily.

“And now knowing what you’ve gone through,” she continued after a sip of tea, “I only feel more confused about Luke’s vision. Not a day has gone by since we’ve had you that I haven’t wondered about it. Between the war and you discovering your power, I need Luke here more than ever.”

That was true. I was flying blind and my power seemed to have increased exponentially in the past couple of days. My uncle could provide guidance in ways no one else could, something I was in desperate need of. I had in no way committed to becoming a Jedi, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still help me learn the basics of the Force. We hadn’t heard anything from Rey yet, but if something had happened to her, I knew I would have felt it. I hoped she was getting help from Luke as well, she was even more confused than I was.

“I wanted Dad to come home too,” I agreed wistfully, “I’d wished to have our family back for so long and it was in my grasp. I guess that makes it hurt even worse,” I kept my eyes focused on the stars that whizzed by us in hyperspace in an effort to not fall apart, “I’m just thankful I got one last moment just the three of us.”

I saw Mom smile warmly as she stared down into her cup, I could tell she was reliving the happy memory too.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with my powers,” I continued with a half shrug, “One of the last conversations I had with Dad was talking to him about why I was so afraid to tell you about them. Everything he said to me encouraged me to embrace them, to use them for good. But it’s not like I know what the next steps are. I could use a Jedi Master right about now.”

“We all could,” Mom agreed, “Have you told Poe yet?”

I groaned and rubbed at my face, “No, I haven’t figured out how to yet. I’m beyond frustrated with him so I don’t think now is the right time.”

“Better to tell him sooner rather than later.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, still dreading what his reaction could be.


“Mom…I did have a question about my powers,” I began awkwardly, “I’ve always wondered how I may have gotten them and I was thinking about it this morning. Do you think there’s any chance that I could have inherited them from someone? Like…my birth parents?”

She held her cup to her lips, “It’s entirely possible. The Force can flow through generations, I’m living proof.”

I hadn’t stopped asking myself the question since I’d thought of it. Thinking about my birth parents had started again with hearing Rey’s story. The thought that I could have come from a family of Force users was daunting, but a possibility. I’d have to let it go soon though, there was no way of finding out who they were. There was no sense in dwelling on a theory I could never prove. 

“It’s okay to think about them, you know,” Mom said, “You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“I know,” I replied, “I can’t help it sometimes because it feels like I’m betraying you and Dad. But they’re a part of me, I suppose I’ll never stop wondering,” I reached over and took her hand, “But you will always be my mother.”

She genuinely smiled and squeezed my hand, “And you will always be my daughter. My brave, beautiful, stubborn daughter.”

I laughed just as Lieutenant Connix appeared in the doorway,

“General, Commander, I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“You’re fine, what is it?” I inquired.

“Commander Dameron’s on the bridge, you told me to alert you when he returned.”

Both our moods shifted with the news, all the stress I’d erased from Mom’s face returning at the mention of Poe’s name. Then again he had that effect on most people.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. We’ll be there shortly,’ Mom addressed Connix. Once Kaydel had left the room, she turned to me, “You should’ve brought me something stronger than tea.”

“Sorry,” I responded as we stood up and headed out of the room, “I kept that drink for myself.”



—————

Once we made it to the bridge, Poe’s orange flight suit was the first thing to catch my eye. He was standing with his back to us talking to…FINN?

“Commander Dameron,” Mom called in a falsely calm tone of voice “A word, please?”

Poe turned around to us, he looked ecstatic to see me but his grin faded once he saw my expression. The anger and frustration swirled inside me, even though I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right then. Contradicting feelings like that came with being close to Poe Dameron, he could make you want to kill him and kiss him at the same time.

“Yes, General,” he answered, taking one last look at me before silently following Mom to a corner.

Finn and I finally made eye contact and we hurriedly crossed the room to each other. I took extra caution with his back as we embraced,

“No one told me you were up, how are you feeling?” I asked, pulling back to examine his face for any signs of pain. The last time I’d seen him, apart from in the med bay, I hadn’t known whether or not he was going to live. To see him standing in front of me was a much needed pick me up.

“I kinda discharged myself,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sure Poe will tell you the story but I feel fine.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding before throwing my arms around him again, “I’m so glad, it looked like touch and go for a while back on the Falcon.”

Finn was drawing a breath when the sound of a slap made us turn. Poe’s head was tilted to the side as my mother withdrew her hand.

“Everything alright?” Finn asked slowly, his eyes still on the scene.

“Believe me, that’s light considering what he did…”

“Okay,” he replied and turned back to our conversation “Poe told me about Rey, have you heard anything from her?”

“Not yet,” I said, “But it’s only been a day since she left. I’m not worried yet.”

Finn nodded but I could tell my answer didn’t ease his concerns at all. As much as I didn’t want him to be anxious, I was happy he was back to his usual protective self. We were about to continue talking when I felt a hand press lightly against the small of my back. I didn’t need to turn to know who it belonged to…

“Can we talk?” 


I scoffed, “Sure, let’s talk,” I smiled towards Finn, “We’ll be back.”

Leaving an extremely confused Finn in our trails, I led Poe off of the bridge. There weren’t a lot of nearby places to have this private of a conversation and we couldn’t venture off very far. I spotted a storage closet and opened the door, not ideal but it would do. We entered the room filled with a couple crates of supplies and I locked the door behind us.

Poe put his hands on his hips, “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’re angry with me,”

“Oh,” I spun around to face him, “So you are capable of using your brain.”

He sighed and ducked his gaze to the ground, “Y/n-“

“What the hell were you thinking, Poe?” I exclaimed, causing his head to snap back up, “You and your squad go up against a ship that big and you decide that’s the perfect time to disobey an order? Meanwhile our entire fleet is sitting there waiting for you?”

“I had an opportunity, I took it,” he gestured towards the door, “Didn’t you see what we did? We took down a Dreadnought!”

“No!” I snapped, “I didn’t see what you did because I was too busy watching the entire bombing squadron drop off the radar. I was calling out for you on the comms that you decided to turn off. Or how about freaking out internally because I thought I was going to lose you?”

Whatever response he had had ready to go, he decided against saying it in that moment. Tears were welling in my eyes as I relived the anxiety and terror I had felt in that moment,

“I just lost my dad, I almost lost Finn and Rey, and then you go and pull something like that. I know how you work, Poe, but do you realize what would happen if I lost you?” I cried, my chest aching at the memory of thinking I’d never see him again, “I had to spend half a day thinking you were dead and it was the worst feeling in the galaxy.”

I swiped at my eyes, the backs of my hands shining with tears. Poe’s jaw was slack and he’d dropped his hands at his sides, I’d stunned him into silence.

“You told me the other night you’d always come back to me,” I whispered, my tight throat with emotion, “I need that to be more than a sentiment. I can’t lose you.”

Poe’s eyes glistened as I finished my speech, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

He surged forward and captured me in his arms, I clutched to his flight suit for dear life, I could tell I’d gotten my message across. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, I just needed him to know one fraction of how I’d felt. We were in the middle of a war, no day was ever guaranteed. But Poe and his recklessness had cost us and put me through emotional hell unnecessarily. He had to know when to call it a day, his actions no longer just affected him.

“I’m so sorry I did that to you,” Poe’s voice strained, “You’ve been through too much and I’m sorry I added to it.”

I sniffled into his shoulder, “As mad as I am, I’m just happy you’re here. I was so scared.”

He kissed the side of my head and pulled back to look at me, “I will always come back to you, sweetheart.”

“I know you will, you ginormous idiot.”

Poe laughed as he nuzzled his nose against mine sweetly, “You love me anyway.”

“That I do, Commander,” I leaned in to kiss him, but he tilted his head so I missed my target.

“Captain…”

“What?”

“Leia demoted me,” Poe went on, ashamed and hanging his head, “Captain Dameron.”

I sighed heavily and pulled him closer to me, sliding my hands up his back. Had he deserved it? Probably. But I could see how hard it was hitting him and my heart hurt for him. His title reflected the hard work he’d put in during his years here and he loved being Commander Dameron.

“I’m sure you’ll work your way back up in no time,” I assured, “You’re nothing if not determined.”

He gave me a half smile, “I know, it still feels like a slap in the face though.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that was the actual slap in the face you got.”

“Ha ha ha,” he said sarcastically, “My face still hurts, your mom packs a punch.”

“Wait, was there a punch?” I jested and gestured to his cheek, “Did I miss a punch?”

Poe cocked his head unimpressed, “I may be an idiot, but you’re a jerk.”

I raised an eyebrow and moved my hands to press against his chest, “Is that any way to speak to your Commander?”

Poe smirked suggestively and leaned down to mold his lips to mine. My hands slid over his cheeks and lightly stroked the red skin, soothing the sting. He kept one arm tightened around my waist and tangled his hand in my hair, cradling my head. He pressed our bodies together till there was no space left and we were breathing each other’s air. Adrenaline fueled us, I’d almost lost Poe and he was still wired from flying.

“We should probably be working,” I mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah, we should,” he replied, before sliding his hands down to my ass and lifting me up, “But this is more fun.”

I wrapped my legs around his hips as he carried me till my back hit a wall. Poe begged for entrance into my mouth, restraining himself as he swiped across my bottom lip. I parted for him and his tongue delved in, causing me to moan at the intimate contact. This was the closeness I’d been craving with him, though the location wasn’t what I’d imagined. I couldn’t bring myself to care, Poe’s touch took hold of every thought in my mind that wasn’t about him and silenced them. My hands moved up into the back of his curls, lightly tugging to elicit a delicious groan from him. I wanted to commit every beautiful sound he made to memory.

Poe moved his lips to press heated kisses across my cheeks, my jaw and ending at my neck. I whimpered softly as he nipped at the skin before soothing it over with his tongue. I tightened my legs around his middle to get as close as humanly possible to him. His lips began exploring my skin, pressing soft kisses trying to map out my most sensitive spots. When he hit the juncture between my neck and shoulder and I sucked in a breath, the vibration of his self-satisfied chuckle run through me. He started sucking relentlessly, causing a breathless moan to escape me as I gripped his arms tightly. Poe and his mouth were going to be the death of me, I knew it. Oh, but what a way to go...

Just as I was about to raise a middle finger to our responsibilities and take Poe back to my room, the alarm on the bridge blared. We pulled away gasping for air,

“That’s not good,” Poe breathed, he lowered me to the ground hurriedly. I unlocked the closet door and we made a beeline for the bridge. Luckily, we could blame our breathlessness on account of our running.

“Proximity alert!” Admiral Ackbar shouted just as we entered, Poe and I ran to stand behind him.

“They found us!” a soldier announced.

“That’s impossible,” I said. We didn’t have to wait long to see what was coming for us. The First Order’s fleet jumped out of hyperspace, head-on in front of us. Gasps and voices erupted around us as each person got a look.

“That’s Snoke’s ship,” Poe’s voice low in disbelief, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he strutted to the console table with me close behind, “Can we jump to lightspeed?”

“We have enough fuel for just one jump,” Connix reported.

“Well then do it, we gotta get out of here,” Poe ordered, I came to stand between him and Finn.

“Wait,” Mom held up a hand, her face carried a realization that hadn’t hit us yet, “They’ve tracked us through lightspeed.”

“That’s impossible,” Finn commented.

“Yes,” she nodded before turning to stare out at the menacing fleet, “And they’ve done it.”

“How could they have developed that tech?” I asked, knowing no one had answers.

“So if we jump to lightspeed...they'll just find us again, and we'll be out of fuel,” Finn processed before looking to me, “They've got us.”

“Not yet, they don’t,” Poe remarked confidently, he walked over to my mom, “Permission to jump in an X-wing and blow something up?”

“Permission granted,” she replied before ordering Admiral Ackbar to turn the ship around.

Poe quickly stopped to peck my cheek before he dashed out of the room, BB-8 on his heels. Just like that, I was back in the familiar position of fearing he wouldn’t come back alive. But he was right to jump into action, we all needed to.

I was about to say something to Finn when the room went silent, at least it did for me. My breath caught, my stomach lurched, every cell in my body was suddenly on high alert.

Ren was here.

My feet carried me off the bridge automatically, ignoring every call of my title as I ran off. There was no chance of me staying put if he was here. The hanger was my destination, there had to be one ship available in the hanger for me to fly. If I knew he was here, he definitely knew I was too. I wanted the satisfaction of meeting him on a battlefield where I was undoubtably more skilled than him.

“Y/n, where are you going?” Finn yelled after me, he’d caught up surprisingly fast.

“Ren’s here,” I replied, “I’ve gotta do something, you need to stay safe.”

“If you and Poe are going, so am I!” he replied, his loyalty to us was touching. But I couldn’t drag him into another squabble between me and Kylo, he’d almost died last time.

Just as we were approaching the hanger, an explosion rocked the ship and threw me and Finn forward, landing awkwardly against each other. He scrambled to his feet and extended an arm to me, I pulled myself up with a groan. I looked at our surroundings to find Poe laid out on the floor just outside the hanger entrance, his skin covered in soot and his flight suit singed. Bee was reattaching himself as his head had separated from his body.

“Poe!” I yelled, running to him and dropping to my knees with Finn to support Poe’s torso.

“Are you okay?” Finn asked.

“We need to get out of range of those Star Destroyers,” he groaned. We hoisted him to his feet, I braced him for a few steps till he found his footing again.

We hadn’t gotten far when I froze in my tracks, a feeling washing over me different than the one I’d felt during Poe’s attack but just as intense. This one was fragile, broken, yet warm. The only image I could compare it to was of a somebody trying desperately to stitch a torn piece of fabric back together. I could distantly hear Poe and Finn call my name, but I waved them off and stumbled a couple feet away from them. I sensed my mother, her pain and longing. I sensed Kylo, his surprise and conflict and…that couldn’t be longing I sensed from him as well. It was barely there, but it was strong enough for me to feel his pain. I reached out to Mom and she reached back out, it was like she had a hand stretched out towards both of us. It was a surreal feeling, I didn’t want to break it because it felt like…home.

That’s when the second explosion hit and my mother, and countless other’s presences vanished.

I cried out, gasping as I braced myself against the wall. Poe and Finn were at my side in an instant, holding onto me and attempting to calm me down. BB-8 beeped wildly with concern.

“Y/n, baby, what’s wrong?” Poe pleaded, I clung to his arm as I struggled to catch my breath. Something terrible had just happened.


“Commander Solo,” the comm in my pants pocket called, “Commander Solo, come in.”

I hesitantly let go of my boyfriend and grabbed the device with a shaky hand, “Connix, what just happened?”

“The bridge has been destroyed.”

My head shot up to look to Poe and Finn, the three of us bolted down the hall, ignoring the concern of passersby. Once we arrived outside the sealed doors to find Kaydel waiting, I could see the damage. The faces I’d seen just moments ago all gone, the lights burnt out, debris floating in and out of it. It was awful.

“Where’s the General?” I asked with a faltering voice, not turning to make eye contact. There was a deafening silence that served as my answer. Rage and devastation swirled inside me as shock took hold of my body. My fists curled at my side as tears blurred my vision, I mechanically moved my legs and left our party to walk down the long hallway. I eventually landed at a large window, looking out of it to see pieces of the ship swirling around us. Somewhere nearby, my mother’s lifeless body was there too.

No.

This was not happening.

I had not lost my entire family in the span of two days.

Tears silently dripped down my cheeks and chin as I stared out at the destruction. My heart wasn’t ready to feel what these events would force me to feel.

Then I saw something unbelievable. A sight that if I told someone who didn’t know my mother, they’d be convinced I was insane.

“Guys!” I shouted, Finn, Poe and Connix ran to my side and we watched my mother steer herself through space. I didn’t know the intricacies of the Force and everything you could do through it, but this was the single greatest display of it’s power I’d ever witnessed. I sobbed happily as she headed towards the remnants of the bridge.

“We need a medic at the bridge now!” Poe shouted as the four of us ran back down the hall to her destination. We made it to the door just as it slid open, Poe and I caught her before she hit the floor. The effort her daring act had taken had caused her to fall unconscious. We carried her away from the door as Connix and Finn continued yelling for medical. Poe lowered her to the ground as I knelt down and laid her head in my lap,

“Mom, please if you can hear me,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers, “Please, please, stay alive. I’m not ready to do this without you.”

The medics could be heard rushing down the hall, once they arrived I was forced to let go of her. I kissed her ice cold cheek and let them take over, going to stand at the stretcher with Poe. The medics lifted her up onto it and placed an oxygen mask over her mouth.

“Clear a path, everybody out of the way!” I ordered as we began wheeling her down the hall.

“Move! Outta the way, everybody! Make way! Make room!” Poe echoed across from me.

“Her vital signs are weak, but she’s fighting,” a medic told us, I clung to my mother’s hand at the news.

“C’mon, Mom,” I urged, “Fight.”

Poe and I went as far as we could with her until we reached the med bay and were told we couldn’t go any further. Someone reassured me that as soon as there was news, I’d be the first to know. We waited outside the doors, the only way either of us were leaving was at my mother’s side. I was nervously pacing as Poe sat, elbows on his knees and his laced fingers holding his chin up. His eyes were watery, Mom meant so much to him, I was surprised he’d kept it together this long.

After what had to be my fiftieth lap in the waiting room, I came to sit next to him. At my closeness, Poe leaned back in his chair and I slipped my hand into his in an attempt to comfort both of us. Both of us stared at the pristine white wall silently, probably similar thoughts and worst case scenarios running through both our heads. It was pointless to ask questions, neither of us could give any guarantee she’d live. I rested my head against his shoulder and he sandwiched it between his, squeezing my hand. We were communicating to each other ‘I’m here for you, let me help you shoulder this burden’ and ‘I need you more than anything else in the galaxy right now, please don’t leave me.’

The only noise that could be heard was chatter past the doors we were unauthorized to go through and faint beeping from machines. Would they have to perform surgery on her? Would she be hooked up to a ventilator because her lungs had been damaged? Poe and I relaxed into each other, we were willing to wait as long as we had to.

—————

A/N: Like we all wouldn’t love to jump Poe fresh from a flight still in his suit 😏 This one was a fun chapter to write because there were interactions with almost everyone. Also *cough cough* whoarey/nsparents *cough cough* Let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! 🖤

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplybarnes @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000 @meraki-loki @lovinnholland @wishing4wishes​ @fruitloopzzz​

Star Wars Permanent Taglist: @paintballkid711

[shinebrite97]

Part 6

Read Part 5 here

        With one bag under each arm, Mammon's leathery wings fluttered, propelling him through the devildom sky.          "Stupid Lucifer sendin' me to the castle. Why the hell is Yuri stayin' there anyway?" He wondered. "What's she got goin' on with Lord Diavolo? And why the hell did he take her out of class today?"

        He'd figured he'd come prepared, packing a bag for her with everything Lucifer had instructed him to, and then one for himself.         No one was going to keep his human away from him, no matter who they were.         He could see the castle below, swooping down and landing at the door to knock.         "Mammon," Barbatos said with a steep bow. "Thank you for coming all this way."         "Where's Yuri?" He asked.         "She is with the young master." He replied. "I can give her a message if you need."          "No need for all that," he replied. "Just show me where she and I are stayin' tonight and I'll take it from there."         "I beg your pardon?" Barbatos asked.         "Ain't I her demon? Ain't I the one Lucifer put in charge of her safety?" He argued defensively. "Just tryna do my job!"          "I assure you, Mammon. No harm will come to Yuri while she is here. I believe the Young Master will be keeping her attention until very late into the night. She will have proper rest and nutrition and we will escort her to RAD tomorrow." He bowed politely. "If you'll allow me, I will bring her belongings to her room and I will send her your regards. Have a good evening Mammon."         "But…"          The door shut with finality, leaving Mammon standing alone and with only one packed bag.          "Are you kiddin' me?"

                                                    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

         "It's the same for all the royal men of my lineage." Diavolo said. "As soon as an heir is old enough to be groomed for the throne, the old king falls into a deep slumber in a world beneath this one, and as soon as the power is transferred, the slumber ends and the old king passes on."         "Really?" Yuri asked.              "Yes." Diavolo replied. "I suppose that would seem strange to you."          Yuri nodded, taking the last cold sip of her tea. Knowing the pot was empty, she instead stretched her arms out over the tome in front of her, tapping her fingernails against a page right over a section of text in archaic latin.         "So if the king is just in a deep sleep and not dead, is that just in case the heir can't fulfil the duties of king? And before the heir is ready, the king can rise to lead if needed?"         "Correct!" Diavolo beamed. "Very clever, Yuri."          "And...if I may ask….how long has your father been in his slumber?"          "One thousand years." He replied.          "And um….how old are you?" She asked. Diavolo paused, his bright smile dimming as he leaned on the back of the empty chair beside Yuri.         "Oh...uhm…"         "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that...it's so personal-"          "No," he said. "It's quite alright. I'm just...trying to remember," Diavolo closed his eyes, lips parting slightly as he whispered the numbers rising exponentially, pausing to think, before continuing up.         "Six thousand sixty-two." He said.         "Oh…" her response came out as more of an exhale than a phrase. A stuttered thing that sent his heart into a frenzy as the sudden and unexpected fear of rejection kick-started him into speaking again.         "Listen, Yuri. I know I shouldn't have asked you to do this…The differences are so extreme. In comparison-"          "I would have thought you were closer to my age," she admitted. "The way you hold yourself, how you talk and act, and all the pranks you've pulled on us since I've returned….it's easy to forget sometimes….but it wouldn't really matter, would it?" Yuri knew she was rambling now, but seeing his golden eyes affix to her, all his attention hovering over her in that soft smile of his, how he instantly sealed his mouth, giving her all the time she needed to organize her thoughts, it made her feel more brazen. Sure, this was the future king of hell, a lord, someone she should fear. But she didn't.          It was Diavolo. Her first kind face in this realm. Someone who confided in her, who turned around and gave her attention when she needed it. She nodded, smiling even brighter as she sat up straight, keeping her eyes directly in his.         "If I played house with you, or Lucifer, or really anyone here, I'd be severely outranked in age, or power, or experience...but if I have to play a part to help someone advance, I'm glad it's you."          "Yuri...are you sure." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she nodded assent.          "You're a great friend, Diavolo. I appreciate you, and I'd like to do whatever I can to help you achieve your goals."         "Yuri…" he grinned hugely, sitting down in the empty chair beside her and reached over, brushing a stray piece of brown hair over her shoulder. "I swear...you...the celestial Realm….no….uhm,” Yuri smiled shyly, feeling a tad proud of herself for flustering him like this.         “May I…?" He asked. She was confused, only for a moment, when she saw his hands raise, seemingly to either side of her head and he advanced slowly, giving her time to decline. She relaxed her posture, placing all her trust in him and what he was about to do.          His arms came around her shoulders squeezing and pulling her closer to his chest. A firm squish and then he eased his grip, still keeping her face to his chest.         "I'm afraid I am speechless." He said. "But thank you very much. It means so much more to me than you could ever know." Yuri hummed as she accepted his tight hug, unable to speak with her lips pressed into his uniform robe, but nodded.         A hesitant clearing of Barbatos's throat left the two scrambling back, adjusting his clothes and her hair to recover some dignity, only to be met by his smug smile.          "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But dinner is ready to be served. Shall I bring the plates down here?"         "No," Diavolo replied. "It's about time we took a break anyway." He stood up, holding a hand out for Yuri who took it long enough to stand up, and walking beside him as they followed Barbatos up to the dining room.

                                                      ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

        After such an extravagant dinner at Ristorante Six the evening before, Yuri had no idea what to expect with a dinner in the castle.         The one good thing was not sharing a kitchen with Solomon this time.          They sat at opposite ends of a far-too-long table, separated by a beautifully vintage candelabra, one she hadn't seen the last time she'd visited with the brothers, though knowing how rowdy meals could get with that bunch, she understood why.         Barbatos served soup and small plates with a flourish, explaining each plate as he placed them down, pouring wine into glasses before them. Explaining how it would pair with the seasonings, and how it would cut the fats of the meat. While Yuri felt very overwhelmed by the specifics of the meal, Diavolo stayed silent, swirling the wine in his goblet and taking in the vapors as they rose.         "Thank you Barbatos." He said. "That will be all."          With a bow, he quickly left the room, leaving the two of them alone. Several feet apart, but feeling the lingering touch of their embrace just moments before.         "So…" Yuri started.         "Yes?" He asked.         "It looks delicious." She said.         "Barbatos is an artist in the kitchen," he agreed.         "And the wine…"          "It's a blend that will affect humans as well, so be careful, Yuri." She smiled, taking a sip just big enough to dip her tongue into it cautiously. It was bitter, first, vaporous and zinging her taste buds, enough to make her eyes water, but once the initial shock faded, it was hints of cherries. Sweet and earthy. She never considered herself much of a wine person, but after the first few sips, she grew to like it. Not to mention, it did taste good with the food served.          One glass turned into two, and by the time she'd finished it, she felt the edges of her brain growing foggy.          "Are you ready to continue with our reading?" He asked. Yuri stretched, rolling her neck and nodded.         "Yessir." She said, Diavolo stood up first, walking over the length of the table and once again extending his hand to her.         "You sure know how to impress a lady." She said.         "Oh...I-" Diavolo blushed, mirroring the heat in her own cheeks as her bold statement.         “I um…" she paused. "It's the wine." She giggled. "Social lubricant."         "I don't think I've ever heard that before."         "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two then…" she smirked.         "Maybe we should call it a night instead..." Diavolo replied.          "Oh, no, I'm fine." She squeaked. "I'm sorry, Ill drop the jokes."         "It's getting late," he said. "I would hate if you were tired tomorrow because I kept you up all night."          "Solid argument," she replied. "So are you going to show me to my room now?"          "Oh, yes...that's what I'm going to do!"          Diavolo walked in front of her, his prominent footfall shaking the sconces on the walls. The air was standing between them now, silent and a bit awkward.         "Lord Diavolo…" she said. "I'm sorry….did I make things weird?"          "What do you mean, Yuri?" He asked.         "With my comments at dinner...and with my rambling…earlier in the underground library."          "No…" he said. "I'll admit it caught me off-guard, but not for the reasons you'd think."         "Okay…" she paused, trying desperately to gain his attention, to lock her eyes to his. To try to communicate all the things she couldn't bring herself to say out loud.          "Thank you, Yuri." He said.         "For what?" She asked.         "For everything." He smiled. He finally stopped walking outside a sturdy wooden door and turned on his heel to face her. His broad smile took up his whole face, and he brought his hand up, resting it gently atop her head.         "You've done more for me in the last few days than anyone has ever wanted to do in all my years...and you’re so willing. I really appreciate it."          "It's no problem, Diavolo."         "Well here, we are...goodnight Yuri."          He opened the door, offering a sweeping gesture with his hand and smiled. She nodded, stepping through the threshold and giving him a small smile.         "Goodnight, Diavolo."         Her smile lasted until the moment he closed the door, finally alone, she saw the packed bag on the bed with a fresh uniform, her favorite nightgown, her hairbrush and toothbrush and some fancy lotions no doubt packed by Asmodeus. As she slid her DDD out of her pocket, turning it on, she scoffed.         Late? She wondered. It's only 8:30.         Outside the door, Diavolo finally let out the deep breath he'd been holding, sliding down the length of the door until he landed heavily on his rear, he placed a hand over his chest, hoping to calm the rapid pulse he's developed as he ran mental olympics, trying to make heads and tails of the evening that just transpired

[riotwritesthings]

Coffee and Bad Words

WinterIron, T, 1.5K, convenient amnesia

For the @winterironmonth​

Fun fact, this is probably my favorite prompt I’ve written for the month so far it’s so goofy I regret nothing.

SFW Wednesday, Amnesia AND “All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”

-

Bucky walks into the lab with a half formed plan for how he’s going to try and coax Tony out. The man’s been locked up down there playing with some weird bit of tech they picked up on their last mission for almost 36 hours now, and everyone is starting to get concerned. Bucky is pretending not to know why he was chosen for this job.

The doors open for him, and the second he steps into the the lab Tony spins to point at him and demands “you. We’re friends, right?”

“Um,” Bucky says, because that’s the big question isn’t it? Bucky would certainly like to think so, at least, he’d even like to think maybe he’ll work up the balls to try for more than that sometimes soon. Especially if the rest of the team keeps mocking him about his ‘totally obvious’ feelings. Still, he’s not sure what answer Tony is actually looking for here, so he finally settles on a hesitant “yes?”

“Right,” Tony says, nodding and turning back to the million screens opened up before him, spanning nearly the entire workspace and displaying what looks like various clips of security feeds from the lab. “Right, of course we’re friends, you spend so much time down here. We’re totally friends. That makes sense. I’ve hardly seen anyone else on these feeds, and look, look I’m even laughing in this one.”

Tony pauses to point to one of the screens and Bucky remembers that day. He doesn’t remember exactly what stupid pun he’d made, but he remembers the way Tony had laughed, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

“Tony,” Bucky says slowly, and he’s starting to get a bad feeling about this, but before he can say anything else Tony spins back towards him with a victorious grin.

“Tony! That was going to be my question, thank you!”

Bucky’s heart drops into his stomach. His bad feeling gets exponentially worse.

-

Turns out, the fancy new gizmo Tony had been playing with activated somehow, and apparently wiped his memory. All of it. And instead of telling anyone, Tony has spent the past twelve or so hours alone, watching security footage.

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Bucky can’t help demanding, heart racing, and he has to get Tony to medical, get him checked over, what if there’s something else-

“Because I had to figure out who I am, first!” Tony insists, breaking into Bucky’s panic spiral, throwing his arms in the air, like somehow Bucky is the one being ridiculous here.

“So you’ve been watchin’ security footage of yourself?”

“A man is most himself when alone,” Tony says obnoxiously and Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes. Then Tony considers the screens again and adds “and when you’re here, I guess, you’re down here like all the time. You didn’t even leave when I snorted a questionably green shake out of my nose, which, gross. Although you did laugh at me, that’s real friendship I guess.”

Bucky ignores the heat trying to rise in his face because right, sure, friendship. “You couldn’ have tried the internet?” Bucky asks instead of addressing the fact that it really is obvious how much time he spends hanging around Tony now that it’s all laid out like this, “or, I dunno, asked JARVIS?”

Tony’s nose wrinkles adorably as he demands “the ceiling voice?! Like hell am I trusting that, next thing I know it’s going to be refusing to open the pod bay doors!”

“Oh my god, you’re so paranoid,” Bucky groans, slumping onto one of the stools and resisting the urge to drop his forehead to the table.

“See, you do know me!” Tony says brightly, smile lighting up his face, and despite everything Bucky’s heart gives a little flutter. “So far, I’ve been able to determine that all I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” Bucky mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Tony laughs again.

“Also, am I building a robot army? What up with that?” Tony asks, turning back to his many screens with a thoughtful look.

“You are a robot army,” Bucky says, and he’s about to actually explain the suits of armor lining the walls when something on the screens catches his eye instead.

He remembers that day, too. Tony in a tank top, working on one of the armors, grease smeared across his bare arms. Bucky feels his face heating up, because he remembers what happens next, too. On screen, Bucky wants into the lab, catches sight of Tony, and promptly trips over DUM-E and goes sprawling to the ground. Not his proudest moment, but not the worst he’s ever embarrassed himself in front of Tony with the man, somehow, miraculously not noticing.

Bucky glances over at Tony, to see if maybe he’d managed to miss Bucky’s face plant this time too, only to find Tony already watching him with a considering look. Bucky opens his mouth with absolutely no idea what he plans to say, but Tony beats him to it anyways.

“Did you know,” Tony starts slowly, and apparently he doesn’t need his memory to get the same look on his face when he’s putting the pieces together, “that when you moved the couch to get the ball one of the weird robots lost, I straight up fell off my chair and nearly stabbed myself with a screwdriver on the way down?”

“Uh,” Bucky says, because he had not known that, and the knowing look that’s slowly growing on Tony’s face is making him nervous. For multiple reasons. And a part of him can’t stop wondering how many other stupid things Tony has seen him doing in these feeds, how many stupid things Bucky has missed Tony doing over him.

“So, new question,” Tony says, sidling towards him with an amazing amount of confidence for someone with no memories. “Are we, by any chance, right on the delicate edge of more than friends?”

“Uh- you,” Bucky stutters out and he can’t back away fast enough, his hip bouncing painfully off the corner of a table because he can’t drag his eyes away from the way Tony’s tongue swipes out to wet his lips. Finally Bucky gets his brain back online enough to insist “we’re not having this conversation when you don’t remember anythin’!”

Tony pouts but at least stops advancing on him, and it’s incredibly difficult for Bucky to drag his attention away from the swell of Tony’s lower lip. “Fine. And I suppose you’re going to make me go talk to doctors now,” Tony says with a roll of his eyes, and Bucky’s not sure if it’s a good or bad sign that Tony’s dislike of going to medical isn’t reliant on his memories either.

“For starters,” Bucky grumbles. That’s right, he just has to deal with this one thing at a time, first they make sure Tony is okay, then they figure out what’s going on with his memory, and then-

“And then we can make out?” Tony asks hopefully and Bucky almost trips over exactly nothing.

“Would you please just- grab the thing and we can go talk to someone?” Bucky demands and Tony’s little smirk is really not helping anything.

“Fine, fine,” Tony says, smirking wider as he turns to grab the small device still sitting on one of the tables.

There’s a bright flash of light.

Bucky wakes up on his back, blinking at the ceiling in confusion.

“Are you kidding?! It was that easy?!” Tony’s voice demands from somewhere on the other side of the lab, “I hate magic. So much.”

“I know,” Bucky says with a groan as he pushes himself upright again, and then pauses, “wait, you remember that?”

“I also remember taking my midterms in a hula outfit, which I haven’t remembered since the 90’s, so that’s fun,” Tony says and his head pop up over one of the tables, looking a little dazed, a little confused, but no worse for wear. “Apparently, when I get my memories back I get all of them back. Including the things I’d rather not.”

Tony continues complaining as they pick themselves back up, dust themselves off, and Bucky is just trying to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to say now. Does he act like they didn’t just have an accidental revelation? Chalk it all up to the effects of the magic mind wiper and never speak of it again?

As usual, Tony beats him to the punch. His eyes flick up to the screens again, and a hopeful smile spreads across his face. “So, did we have to go upstairs right now, or..?” He trails off, wiggles his eyebrows, and almost manages to hide the nerves in his voice.

“Or,” Bucky says, surprising himself with how firm his voice comes out considering he had no idea he was going to say it. He’s not taking it back through, not missing this chance because knowing himself, Bucky could spend the rest of his life finding excuses to wait.

“Yay, we’re gonna make out,” Tony says, giddy and goofy and oh, Bucky’s heart is swelling almost painfully in his chest as Tony picks right back up on advancing on him.

“Just a little,” Bucky says, already reaching out to pull him in, “then it’s straight to medical for you.”

“Boo,” Tony tries to complain, but Bucky just kisses him quiet.

[sullustangin]

Quick Fic:

Happy Fic ahoy.  I decided that everyone lives in KotET.  This is in contrast to what I’m writing currently in The Grand Reveal (my Rishi fic). Let me have my warm fuzzies.

**

Hey.  Grab Vette from wherever and a six-pack from the cantina -- the bartender will know which one.

Theron stared at the Holonet message in his head, eyebrow arching as he composed a reply.  That request sounds...interesting.

Dream on.  Just bring both of ‘em to the hangar.  I’ll be landing in about 20.

Theron shook his head, about to object to Eva’s insinuation, but he let it drop.  There wasn’t anyone else he wanted but that her, and she knew it.  If she didn’t, he’d enlighten her later after she delivered whatever surprise she had for Vette. 

**

“So I’ve been running the Star Fortress sims since I arrived -- getting better at it.  What would you think of Blizz and me as a team?” Vette had been dropping hints about running independent ops for awhile, and now she’d just cut to the chase to try to get Theron to set her up with something more substantial.

“I think we need to talk about group composition.”

“With the amount of explosives that little guy has on him --”

“It’s exponentially more concerning to me.”  Theron gave her a look.  Vette was a good operative, but much like Eva, she needed someone slightly less chaotic to partner with.  Someone relatively more orderly and cautious while still allowing for a little creativity -- Bowdaar fit that bill for the smuggler, and strangely, so did Theron.   (Lana had sworn off running partnered ops with Eva unless necessary; med staff felt Lana’s ulcer waxed and waned based upon how much improvisation Eva had come up with during any given mission.)

Blizz was not that Jawa.  That was why he was partnered up with Torian Cadera and currently on mission away from Odessen.

Theron and Vette reached the half-way point on the catwalk that led to Virtue’s Thief’s private landing site and watched as the ship descended.  Theron switched the hand that held the requested beer as he waited, somewhat impatiently; he could be working right now, right up to the moment Eva de-boarded, but no, he was delivering one six-pack of cheap Ord Mantell beer and one Twi’leek. 

Despite his internal grousing, Theron found himself grinning when he finally caught sight of that familiar brunette head as the gangplank lowered.  It’d been a couple of weeks since she, Bowdaar, C2, and Guss had gone off to follow-up on leads pertaining to the rest of the missing crew.  

Eva saw him waiting and flashed him a smile, then gestured for both him and Vette to wait one minute.  Eva disappeared momentarily back into the ship and reemerged with an unexpected number of sentients.  First down the gangplank was Akaavi Spar, ever confident and ever intimidating.  Despite losing an obscene amount of credits to her on Yavin, Theron was gratified to see her in one piece and sporting her own, new set of armor -- a set Eva had funded shortly before her disappearance. Akaavi always did have the best sabacc face of the bunch; if she was impressed by Odessen, she gave no sign. 

Theron was mildly surprised to see that trailing along behind Akaavi, holding her hand, was Mako.  He hadn’t seen her since Rishi, since the Grand Champion had -- yeah. It’d been awhile.  Mako’s head turned to absorb the entire base as quickly as she could, and her awe was evident. 

The two women -- so different, but the connection between them was obvious.  Akaavi finally made eye contact with Theron and gently tugged Mako’s hand, making sure she was aware of the former SIS man.  Eva had apparently briefed the two of them on ‘the situation’ between the smuggler and the spy; Akaavi gave him a nod, and Mako a polite smile. 

Theron wouldn’t blame Mako if they never did quite become friends. 

"Agent Shan.  Ready for the show?”  Akaavi asked, voice surprisingly light. 

Vette tilted her head to look at Theron, an unspoken “huh?” on her face.

At the top of the gangplank were now Eva, Bowdaar, and Guss, and they were speaking with Corso Riggs.  He looked better than the haggard drifter Theron had last seen.  A brief flash of memory, and Theron adjusted his grip one more time on the beer, shifting his weight.  

Corso always bought Eva her favorite dessert from Naboo; she always bought him his favorite beer from Ord Mantell.

A gasp from Vette redirected Theron’s attention from Corso.  Vette’s eyes had grown huge as she stared up at the figures still on the Thief.  Theron followed her line of sight up to ...Risha Drayen.  The pieces fell together, now that Theron knew Eva had finally been successful in finding her crew.  He stifled a laugh and let himself just stare at the Captain, the one who had been so shocked upon finding Vette, the one who then became so obsessed with finding Risha. 

She caught him looking at her and went back to talking to Risha and Corso at the top of the gangplank.  Theron distantly overheard Risha say, “Well, let’s see how you’ve done with this backwater,” in that haughty tone she’d always used to hide herself.

Risha didn’t make it more than a few steps before she saw who was already moving toward her on the catwalk.  She froze.  The arrogant mask dropped away, and Theron saw what remained of the child Risha had once been -- before the summer of trees in Corellia, before her father’s death, before she had been shaped into something that appeared heartless (which couldn’t be further from the truth, he had learned from Eva).

“Vette?” Risha’s low voice cracked, and her eye makeup was in imminent danger within seconds. 

“Rish,” Vette confirmed as she started move faster toward the other woman -- her sister in another life.  Vette’s lekku flew out behind her as she reached top speed. Risha was still dazed and slowly took steps down the gangplank.  Theron strafed to the side and let his hip hug the railing as he moved toward Virtue’s Thief. 

Vette nearly bowled Risha over, and though she remained standing, Risha let her blaster rifle drop off her shoulder as she embraced her.  As Theron quietly passed them on the way up the gangplank, he heard:

“Didn’t think you’d survive.”

“Thanks, you too.” 

Then the sort of relieved laughter that came from reunions -- so much had changed yet so little had. 

As Theron reached the top of the gangplank, he found that Eva, Corso, Guss, and Bowdaar were already sitting at the top, looking down on the scene.  Eva grinned up at Theron, but said to her crewmate, “I did even better for you, Corso.”

A pause, then a chuckle. “Hot damn, I can’t believe you found some -- brewery shut down due to the Zakuul vice taxes.  What’s your next trick, walking on water?”  Corso reached both hands out to Theron -- one to take the beer, and the other to shake the man’s hand. “Thanks, Theron.”

He’d promised Corso he’d find her.  Promise kept.  

Eva tugged on Theron’s pant leg, urging him to sit down next to her.  As Risha and Vette continued their teary reunion, Corso was quick to break open the six pack and distribute the bottles, keeping the spare himself.  “Akaavi hates the stuff,” he offered as a way of explanation.  “She’s going to Lana to see if she and Mako can have a bunk together and probably find something less disgusting to drink.”

Theron peered at the bottle in his hand before taking a swallow.  He’d had worse.  Eva waved across the docks at Akaavi.  Theron couldn’t quite see from this distance, but he thought he saw white, shiny glints of teeth from the Zabrak.  And it wasn’t her angry face. 

Eva took a deep swallow, until the bubbles tickled her nose, and then she just sat there, looking exceedingly pleased with herself.  “I win.”

Bowdaar (whose bottle was hilariously dwarfed in his hand) grunted at her. “You won against the Empire.”

Eva dismissed it.  “This is better.” 

“Gang’s back together.” Guss held his bottle in both hands. 

Eva took another swallow.  “Gang’s bigger.”  She nudged Theron with her hip, and he playfully nudged her back.  “When are Torian and Blizz due back?”

“Few days.  You tell Mako?”

“Nope.”  In profile, Theron could see that devilish grin break over her face. 

The winning streak would continue.  He’d drink to that.