#okay but did realize that ALL of the bargain books are under $10 which i did not notice the first time i was in there

[essektheylyss]

Also I did forget that Calamity wrap up was tonight but I stopped at the campus bookstore on my way home and picked up a few books off the bargain shelf, and... man, really living up to my blog title with this combo

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 18

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4276

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

**********************************************************************

It’d been a little over a week since Shoto promised to go to the doctor with you and you were getting a little nervous. At first you were just waiting for the doctors to get settled in, but then Shoto was busy helping get things up and running and evacuating people to the bunker. Now you’ve just been chickening out.

Your period was a few days late, which wouldn’t be concerning if it weren’t for your current circumstance.

You woke up this morning and made a cup of coffee before taking Bravo out for a stroll around the bunker. He loved being able to run around and meet new people. He was a hit with the kids. They loved playing with him almost as much as he loved playing with them. The only downside was, there was only two places in the entire massive bunker that he could go to the bathroom. The farm and a small animal relief area near where the trash is dumped.

Needless to say, neither smelled great, but the farm was considerably better. So here you were, sitting on a small platform that oversees the crops with a cup of coffee and a book. Bravo sitting next to you keeping watch.

It was always a little chilly down here, which you honestly preferred. It just meant you could wear lots of hoodies. The more you could hide your body the better. Ever since leaving Dabi’s house you felt like you were always being watched. You felt so exposed and you just wanted to blend into the background.

Today you wore a new hoodie that Izuku had gotten you. It was probably one of the softest things you owned, and it was the prettiest shade of blue. The blue reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes… of the beautiful blue flames they were capable of creating… but then you’d shake the thought from your head and pull it closer around you.

You were enjoying your new freedom. Not that Dabi’s house had been a prison… but you hadn’t realized how much you missed doing things on your own. You had thought being alone would be hard, but you were thriving. It was never being alone that bothered you before, it had been his absence.

Against Katsuki’s wishes… Shoto had shown you the photos of what was left of Dabi’s car. And he hadn’t been exaggerating. You had almost passed out looking at how much blood soaked the driver seat and even the road around it.

You had been so lost lately. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. Your heart ached. You thought you had finally found your home. You had finally started to feel your pieces come back together. Now you felt like that would never happen. He took the last few pieces of your heart with him and you felt like you would never be whole again.

Dabi had been your comfort, your safety, your home. Now you were lost.

You hated that you felt this way. You should hate him. You should curse his fucking name. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep over his death.

His death…

Was he dead? You weren’t convinced. It was too convenient, and there wasn’t a body. You wanted proof. Until then you’d go on believing he was still out there.

You closed the book you were reading. You had been on the same page for the past 10 minutes.

There was no way he wrecked his car like that. You had been in the car with him twice. Yes, he drove a little fast… but he wasn’t reckless. Either it was an elaborate cover up, or someone was after him. Or maybe… someone had been after you and he had gotten stuck in the middle as collateral damage.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Shoto came and took a seat next to you. “I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I’m pretty sure I already know.”

“Am I that obvious?” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on top of yours. “It’s normal. I’d actually be surprised if you weren’t torn up over it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t stop worrying about him. I keep wondering where he is. If he’s okay. If there’s some grand explanation for his shitty behavior.” You shrugged. “I’m just finding it hard to grasp that the same man who held me during my panic attacks was also secretly planning to breed me… It just doesn’t add up.”

“Guilt does weird things to people.” Shoto’s hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “I know he’s my brother, but I have no doubts about who knew him best. I only know a version of him. I only knew what he wanted me to.” He sighed, “It was obvious you meant a lot to him, and I could see him becoming more… I don’t know… human? For the first time in years he was showing emotions that weren’t rage. It would make sense if you were starting to make him question what side he was on.”

Your eyes narrowed, “So what? You think he did some shitty stuff and decided to help me… because he felt guilty about it? That doesn’t make any sense.” You pushed away from him to look him in the eyes. “Dabi only does what Dabi wants to do. That has been clear to me since day one. So what the fuck did he want out of this? None of it makes sense. Was I just a possession to him? Was I a bargaining chip? Was I just some broken pet that he got validation from nursing back to health? What?!”

You could feel your hysteria building and Bravo put his head in your lap in an attempt to calm you down. You took a few deep breaths. “He better fucking be alive… so I can kick his ass myself.”

Shoto chuckled, “Touya doesn’t stand a chance.”

His eyes looked distant and sad. You nudged his shoulder with your own, “Hey can I ask you something?”

He blinked away whatever far away memory he was thinking about, “I don’t see why not.”

“What was he like? Touya I mean… Before he became Dabi.”

Shoto’s lip turned up just slightly, “He was the best big brother I could have ever had. He was always there to help me when our dad was too rough with me. My dad tried to keep us separated… didn’t want me mingling with what he considered to be his biggest failure.” You flinched at the casual way he talked about the abuse they endured. “But Touya would sneak into my room at night. He taught me how to handle my burns and would bring me cold soba on bad days.” His eyes glassed over, “I was devasted when he died. Well… when I thought he died.”

“I blamed my dad, we all did. So, when he came out of hiding, it was like this enormous weight had lifted off of my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it around, but I had never truly gotten over his death.” He chuckled, “So I went looking for him. I didn’t care if he was Touya or Dabi, I just wanted him in my life again. I’d take what I could get. So, I settled for our don’t ask don’t tell relationship.”

You felt a tear that wasn’t yours hit your lap. Of course this would be hard on Shoto, he’s potentially lost his brother for the second time. “If it makes you feel any better… He admitted to me that he loved you.” You smirked, “Well actually he told me he used to hate you which contradicts your story quite a bit. But he said he always wondered if things would have been better for you if he stuck around.”

Shoto laughed, “Sounds like him. Trying to act like the tough guy who didn’t give a shit… Just like how he was with you. I can’t tell you how many times he called me when he was gone checking on you. Texting me every single time your vitals spiked. He would check the cameras and send me voice memos about how he was going to beat my ass if I didn’t keep my hands where he could see them while we were sparing. But then he would deny it when I asked what going on between the two of you.”

“Hey, come on, I have an idea.” You stood and walked over to the corner of the field behind a small tool shed. You picked up a massive rock and moved it so it was hidden from view. “Can you burn his name into it?”

Shoto eyes darkened, “You want to have a funeral? We don’t even know if he’s dead…”

You nodded, “You’re right we don’t… but I think it’ll make it easier. We can have a place to morn him in private. Weather we mourn his death… or the death of who he could have been.”

Shoto’s shoulder slumped and eventually he nodded. His hand heated up and with his finger he wrote on the rock, “R.I.P. TOUYA”

You both sat there for a while just staring at the rock. You felt too cold standing here in the shade of the tool shed. You gripped your hoodie closer to you and held back the tears that you desperately wanted to shed. You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think of Touya. You thought about what he would have been like if he had gone to UA. If he had become a hero. If you had met him under better circumstances. Would the two of you still have ended up together? Without your mountains of combined trauma would you even be the same people?

“You ready? We should head out soon or we’ll be late for your appointment.”

You rubbed your eyes and sniffled, “Yeah… let’s get this over with.”

Bravo wasn’t allowed in the medical side of the bunker, so you made a quick detour to your room to drop him off. Shoto quietly following behind you. “So how are things with you and Bakugo?”

You groaned and rubbed your temples.

Shoto chuckled, “That good huh?”

“He’s been hovering over me like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest inconvenience. I appreciate what he’s trying to do… but it’s just too much. I told him I needed space… and we had a fight. He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Shoto whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day that the two of you had a real fight. Sure, you always bickered like an old married couple growing up. But on anything serious he always caved to your every wish.” He paused at your door, “Wait. So, are you the reason he’s been extra grumpy lately?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… Maybe?”

You gave Bravo an extra scratch behind his ear before closing the door. At that same moment you heard the door next door click shut. Your eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s. “Oh hey… I didn’t know you were back from the surface yet.”

“Got back early this morning… I was actually on my way to see you. You have a time to get an early lunch? I want to talk to you about something.”

You played with the ends of your hair, which was an immediate give away that you were nervous. “I actually have some plans with Shoto. But I’m free after that. Shouldn’t take too long though.”

His eyes narrowed at your nervous posture and you cursed how well he knew you. “Oh yeah? What are you guys up to? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

You began to stutter but thankfully Shoto interrupted, “Clingy isn’t a good look for you Bakugo. Like she said… it’s not going to take long. Just wait here and she’ll be back soon.”

You saw Katsuki bristle and decided to step in before he picked a fight with Shoto. You stepped over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I just dropped Bravo off. He’s had some pretty bad separation anxiety lately so why don’t you go to my apartment and hang out with him while I’m gone. Make some coffee, pick out a movie or something. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.”

His posture softened as he looked you up and down. It was obvious to him that you were nervous. But he was trying his hardest to give you the space you wanted. He pulled you to him as he sighed, trapping you in his arms. “Okay fine. I’ll babysit the mutt. Can you do me a favor and bring back some migraine medication from the medical ward. My heads killing me.”

You nodded stiffly, hoping it was just a coincidence he needed something from the medical ward. “Not a problem. I have the weighted blanket you gave me on the couch if you want to take a nap while I’m gone. You look like you could use one.”

He squeezed you tighter to him. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head on top of yours. “I’ll be better once we stop fighting about stupid shit though.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back.” He released you and looked to Shoto, “Try to behave. The two of you hanging out makes me nervous.”

Shoto chuckled, “Good. You should be nervous. If you don’t figure your shit out soon, I’ll be taking your best friend spot… Kacchan.”

You snorted as you pulled Shoto away. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You know only Izuku gets away with calling him that! Well… and me when he’s in a good mood. But even that’s pushing it.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He needs a reality check. He thinks the world revolves around him.” He led you down the hall. “He can be such a pain sometimes. But I will admit he’s so much easier to be around now than when we were in high school.” He bumped your shoulder, “In a way it’s thanks to you. As sad as it is, when you went missing, he matured. It was like out of nowhere he realized there were more important things in the world then him and his hero status.”

Something about talking about Katsuki’s emotional vulnerability while walking to the clinic to check if you were pregnant with Dabi’s child made you feel slimy. “Can we talk about something else. Literally anything else. How are you and Izuku doing?”

“Good… we settled into our room. It’s a nice enough room… but it’s right next to my dad’s room. Apparently he’s thought all this time that we were just roommates.” He threw his hands up and scoffed, “Honestly! Did he think we were both professional heroes, making tons of money, but couldn’t afford to live on our own?”

You giggled, “That sounds awkward. These walls aren’t exactly thick.”

“Oh believe me I know. And I don’t care. Poor Izuku though can’t even look my dad in the eye now without blushing.”

You laughed so hard you had to wipe away a tear. “Aw poor Izuku… He’s too innocent for this world.”

Shoto scoffed, “Innocent my ass. That man is a freak in—”

You held up a hand. “Stop, stop, stop! I don’t want to know. He is a pure innocent little muffin who used to braid my hair before workouts.”

“I thought Bakugo was the one who braided your hair? I can’t imagine him being okay with Izuku being that close to you.”

You laughed. “Oh he wasn’t at first. But mostly because Izuku was better than him at something. Kats liked to braid my hair in private while we watched TV.” You shook your head at the memory, “He actually got to be really good at it eventually.”

Shoto had succeeded in distracting you long enough to make the trip to the medical ward, but now that you were here the anxiety was creeping back in.

You paused before crossing the threshold. You knew it was important to find out once and for all if you were pregnant. But you were also enjoying living in ignorance. The fact that you didn’t know meant that you could live your life as normal. If you were pregnant… it would flip your entire world upside down. You would have a life you would be responsible for, a little human that would constantly remind you of the love that almost broke you.

If you weren’t pregnant then… you didn’t know how you would feel. Would you be relieved? Would you mourn?

Your hand found your flat stomach and clenched your shirt. You took a few steps further into the ward and was hit an overwhelming sterile smell. Your breathing hitched and your knees shook. It was too clean. It was too white. It reminded you too much of the lab.

Shoto’s hand took yours and gave it a soft tug. “Hey. It’s fine. You don’t have to do all of this. I can go in and request a pregnancy test and we can go back and do this in your room. Would that make you feel better?”

You shook your head, “Katsuki’s there…”

Shoto’s shoulders sagged, “At this point I think he’d be more upset at you hiding this from him. I’m not telling you how to live your life. I think you’ve earned the right to do whatever the fuck you want. But if it were me… I’d want as big of a support system as I could get…”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Did you want Katsuki to know? How would he react? What if you were pregnant? Would he be disgusted with you? Would he want to help? Your head was spiraling down a rabbit hole of what it and it was starting to make you dizzy.

“Hey, breathe! Just take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of here before you have a panic attack. Wait outside for me. I’ll get everything we need.

You pushed the wave of anxious nausea down and gave a shaky nod. “Okay… But remember to get some migraine medication for Ka—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Go sit down outside and try and focus on your breathing I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside and immediately sat down and leaned your forehead on your knees. You needed to get these invasive thoughts under control. You thought about what Dabi used to do. He would sit with you and try and distract you by talking about random shit. You knew he’d be pissed if he knew his younger brother left you all alone during one of your episodes. The thought of him yelling at Shoto was almost enough to make you chuckle.

You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and started listing animals that start with the letter A. When you couldn’t think of any more you breathed out. Then you repeated the process with the letter B, then C. You had made it F when Shoto made his way back to you.

“Okay, so they gave me some weird looks. Which makes sense considering I am a gay man asking for pregnancy tests. But they didn’t ask too many questions. I have two tests, a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a phone number for a doctor… you know, for if it’s positive.”

You took his outstretched hand and stood up. “Okay… let’s get this over with.”

Every step towards your room felt heavier than the last. You just wanted to curl up under your blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

You hesitated at your door for a few moments before remembering you were a tough bitch and barreled through it full of false confidence.

You expected to see Katsuki lounging on the couch watching something on the tiny TV. Instead you found him passed out with Bravo curled up next to him. The sight of it calmed your nerves.

“Hey Shoto, can you get some coffee going? I’m going to wake him up.” You tiptoed over to him and sat on the edge of the couch. “Hey…” You shook his shoulder. “Kats? Wake up. I need to tell you something…”

Katsuki grumbled and his arm snaked around you, pulling you down to his level. “Shhh, m’head hurts.”

You giggled “Hey stop I’m being serious… I need you to get up.”

One of his eyes cracked open. “What’s up you sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sighed, “I haven’t been crying, but I am… stressed…” He sat up and moved so you were sitting facing each other. He nodded urging you to go on. “So… The reason Dabi uh… locked me in his office was so he could go to the store to uh… buy a…. pregnancy test.”

Your eyes stared at your hands and you heard him suck in a breath. “Are you? …Pregnant I mean.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know… we got some tests from the medical ward today and I’m about to take them. I’m just… a little scared.”

A medicine bottle whistled through the air and smacked Katsuki in the face. “We got you your medicine too. You’re welcome.” Shoto was smirking over by the coffee maker.

Katsuki groaned as he stood up. “One of these days I’m gonna kick the shit out of you, IcyHot Bastard.”

He stretched and held a hand out to you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go piss on a stick.”

You felt a weight starting to lift from your shoulders. “Wait. So you’re not mad?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Why would I be mad? I knew what the two of you were doing. It’s not like you cheated on me. As much as I wish we were, we aren’t together.” His thumb came up to brush a tear away that you didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N. You being pregnant wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I would even be willing to tell people it’s mine if it makes it easier for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

It was quite for a few moments, while you absorbed and processed this new development. He was surprisingly calm about all of this, and it was making it easier for you as well.

“God you’re whipped.” Shoto handed the pregnancy test to you but was smart enough to remain behind you so Katsuki couldn’t hit him.

You left the boys to bicker as you entered your tiny bathroom alone. You peed on both of the sticks and set a timer on Katsuki’s phone. The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of your life.

You paced as you tried to think of anything else. But your thoughts kept going back to that night when Dabi held you in his recliner after fucking you. He had asked about you having a baby. He had sounded so hopeful. His eyes so bright at the idea of you having a kid with him. Part of you couldn’t believe that was an act. He had seemed so sincere. You thought about how he would react if he knew you were taking a test right now.

The timer went off.

Shit.

Was your whole life about to change?

With shaky hands you picked up the first test. You held your breath as you looked to the second one to confirm it.

You opened the door with tears in your eyes.

“So, what’s it say? Am I going to be an uncle?”

You let out an audible sob. “I don’t know why I’m so upset right now.” You showed them the tests. “They’re both negative.”

Katsuki wrapped you in a hug and ran his fingers up and down your back. “It’s okay to be sad. Shoto made some coffee, I don’t have plans today. We can hang out here until you feel better.”

You cried into Katsuki’s chest as you watched some cheesy movie. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he thought it would help.

You were grieving a child you never had, and a love that was nothing but lies. You needed to let it out. You needed to grieve so you could move on. And this is how you do that.

By the time the credits rolled your eyes were dry and you nose stuffy. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier…?”

Katsuki stiffened, “Yeah, but I think it can wait. You’ve already had a rough day.”

You shook your head, “No… I want to know. I’m just going to worry about it until you tell me. I’d rather you just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He nodded, “We got word that Dabi may have been seen by your old place. We aren’t sure it was him though. Toga had been previously spotted as well, so it’s more likely that it was her. But either way, it looks like the LOV is sniffing around.”

“W—What makes you think it was Toga?”

He cleared his throat, “We have an informant working in the LOV and he told us the last thing he heard about Dabi was that Shigaraki had sent a team to collect him… but when they came back they were bloody and he wasn’t with them.”

You sighed, “Of course he wasn’t.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn’t your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance @babayaga67@starenemy

[bing0boing0]

So today was doomsday, it’s okay if you didn’t watch the stream. I watched from Ranboo’s perspective as always. This will be an extra long post because this is over 2 almost 3 hours of pure lore content instead of the usual ones which are 10, 15, or 30 minutes long. Please understand that because this is already long enough I will not be compiling any conversation that are not directly connected to Ranboo.

Ranboo starts stream in the panic room. Ranboo begins stream by saying that it’s not going to go well. He also struggles with remembering if he did something yesterday and if he moved.

Ranboo checks his book and his list of friends is completely blank. Previously it had a large list of names ranging from Fundy to techno.

Ranboo says that he didn’t betray anyone and in doing that he betrayed everyone. Ranboo does not remember moving/deleting the page. Although it is assumed that he did delete the page.

Ranboo tells himself that he will help and then immediately takes it back as a that would be in his mind picking a side.

Ranboo leaves the panic room and begins on the way to L’Manberg when he sees large obsidian grids. He has to ask himself if he made the grid he decides eventually that he would not do that.

Ranboo saves enderchest and apologizes to his other pets. He takes enderchest to the panic room.

Ranboo says that the others will pretend to know what he’s saying but they don’t and are just picking to side with him because it’s the one side they won’t lose with. Ranboo says that they don’t want to pick a side not because it hurts their friendships but because they want to keep their gear.

Ranboo explains that the moment they team up is the beginning of a vicious cycle. Ranboo says that this cycle will continue until everyone dies. Ranboo says that it’s fine and then corrects himself and says that it’s not fine. How do you pick people if there’s no people left.

Ranboo goes back to his house and apologizes to his pets again before he saves squeaks and puts him on the outer edge of L’Manberg. He does this because he does not want to hurt Tubbo anymore than he did already.

Ranboo believes that Tubbo’s and Quackity’s talk yesterday was about them arranging his execution since he knows how traitors are treated in L’Manberg.

Ranboo apologizes to his pets again. Saying that his pets don’t deserve to live in a world that will only bring pain.

Ranboo asks himself why he didn’t stop it this time (this last time is assumed to be during jschlatts presidency as they are talking about the destruction of L’Manberg).

Ranboo yells at himself that all of it is his fault because if he didn’t let Dream see his book then L’Manbergs destruction wouldn’t have happened. Ranboo believes that he was the reason why the only place that has shown him a home is going to be blown apart.

Ranboo says his goodbyes to L’Manberg and says that L’Manberg was a horrible idea in the first place but at least they tried.

Ranboo sees Tommy and Tubbo at the bench and looks in his book at the friend page. I’m assuming here that he was looking to see if their names were on the page. They were not. Ranboo says that they’re screwed.

Ranboo then yells at himself for having such a bad attitude and saying that they need to have hope if not for themselves than for the others.

Ranboo joins Tubbo’s vc at the request of Tubbo. Tubbo says that they need to rally the people. Ranboo writes in the book and questions why Tubbo is okay. They both find that there is no supplies to use for the war. Ranboo continues asking the book why Tubbo is being nice and not angry that he betrayed them. Ranboo once again expresses that they are screwed.

Niki to ask Ranboo to talk in a private vc. Niki asks to talk about yesterday and if he remembered yesterday. Ranboo apparently remembers parts of yesterday but not much. Niki apologizes for screaming at him. Ranboo does not remember Niki screaming at him or him screaming at Niki. Niki asks again if he remembered and he pulls out his memory book opens to the first page which only has a smiley face and then says that he doesn’t.

Ranboo does not remember his speech but he does not remember his speech. Ranboo says that he will be joining Tommy because they are friends. (Please note that while Ranboo says this he is looking at the ground and moving around quite a bit)

Niki asks why he is fighting with Tommy when Techno is on the other side and is his friends. Niki tells him that she will stick to her promise to protect him no matter what. Niki says that she does not want to put him under any pressure (Ranboo is known for having the backbone of a chocolate eclair and falls easily to peer pressure). Ranboo says he does not know what he wants to do.

Niki says that Ranboo is picking a side and Ranboo says that he’s not happy but he can’t hurt tubbo again. Niki says Ranboo is a good guy. Ranboo says that that’s not what everyone was saying yesterday before immediately stoping and asking himself why he remembered that.

Ranboo explains that everyone is like a parent in the way that despite knowing that you are right they will not let you speak. Ranboo says that even if he isn’t getting talked over he is not being understood. Niki says that L’Manberg is not a good thing anymore and everyone that has loved L’Manberg has gone insane.

Niki asks if Ranboo thinks that they should fight for L’Manberg. Ranboo says yes but not cause they’re going to win but because if they don’t help them then they’re showing that they never cared about them. Ranboo tells Niki that if they’re talking over her than she should speak louder until they have to listen.

Ranboo says that Niki has a chance of redemption while Ranboo does not. Ranboo was revealed as a traitor but she’s not.

Quackity asks if he plans on fighting. Ranboo says he will. Quackity says that he has Ranboo’s book.

Techno, Dream, and Phil attack L’Manberg early.

Ranboo while he was there the entire time he only hit a few withers. Techno kills Quackity and gets the book. Ranboo immediately goes to try and get it. Techno gives Ranboo his book says that he has nothing against him and tells him to escape while everyone is busy with the like nine withers he spawned attack.

Ranboo does not run away but he does not fight very much in fact I’d bargain to say that he did not not fight at all.

Ranboo takes Jonald from his grave and then finds his cats and dogs. He takes his pets to the outer edge L’Manberg outside of the blast zone.

Ranboo does not want to remember the destruction of L’Manberg. Ranboo mines flint and makes a flint and steel. He lights the ground in front of him before letting it go out, he does not burn the books.

Ranboo finds an on fire L’mantree and picks up the sign which was previously there. Niki reveals that she was the one to destroy l’mantree. This signifies the end of L’Manberg and the end of the fighting.

Ranboo does a lot of watching tnt fall and withers spawn but does not fight. Ranboo writes that they all chose sides in their attempt to not chose sides. He then calls Fundy a coward in his book.

Ranboo wanders over to Techno who notices him and asks how he’s doing. Ranboo says he’s doing the same as he was yesterday.

Ranboo goes back into his book and changes coward to cowards. Ranboo also goes back to the page he wrote about having put the book there. Underneath it he says that he didn’t.

Ranboo makes blue and exchanges his blue for ghostburs blue. Ranboo then burns ghostburs blue becoming literally the only person to follow ghostburs instructions to get rid of the blue when their done with it.

Ranboo writes over and over again in caps that he doesn’t want to remember. On the next page Ranboo writes that he has to remember or he won’t have anything left. Even less than when he started.

Ranboo spots unlit tnt at the bottom of the crater. He writes this is his book.

Ranboo also brings his pets to the top land just above the panic room.

Fundy asks Ranboo to join vc. Ranboo is much quieter than before and he sounded disappointed even. Fundy says that the country didn’t matter. Ranboo says he was finally listening to him. Fundy kind of rants about nothing he did mattering. Fundy says that they should team up. Ranboo yells at him for not only being a coward but also for both understanding what the hell he was saying. Ranboo yells at Fundy for trying to make another side.

Ranboo sees sides as something inevitable unless one is alone. Teams are sides in the making. Fundy says Ranboo is full of bullshit. Ranboo sees picking people as picking their friendships not people to do something. Fundy does not see teams as sides. Fundy asks Ranboo if he thinks everyone being an individual will fix everything. Ranboo says that yes that will fix everything. Fundy calls Ranboo sad. Ranboo tells Fundy that he is sad but at least he’s not on a side. Ranboo says that in Fundy’s attempts to pick a side that never loses he picks a side that always loses.

Quackity brings Ranboo into a vc. Quackity admits to reading his book, he also admits to wanting to leave L’Manberg and the DreamSMP. Quackity read a phrase that made him stay. Quackity thinks that both him and Ranboo are on the same page about Dream. Ranboo thinks that even if they are fighting against Dream their can’t be extra sides it should be them v Dream. Quackity says he doesn’t care if he dies as long as everyone is closer to Dream’s death. Quackity says he doesn’t trust anyone but himself. Ranboo tells him that that’s what it should be.

Quackity tells Ranboo that it’s politics and if they want to get rid of Dream. Quackity calls it a game of politics. Quackity asks him to think it over.

Ranboo asks himself if he can deny Fundy but accept Quackity. Ranboo comes to the realization that while Fundy was trying to make a new team Quackity was using already made sides.

Ranboo realizes that because the sides have been created they can’t be undone. Ranboo eventually makes his way to the community house and says that he wouldn’t have done it. Ranboo says hes never even crafted tnt before. Ranboo then says he maybe did.

Ranboo goes through his allegiance list at the start of the original do not read book. Tommy was suspicious of Ranboo for staying still, Tubbo doesn’t trust him anymore. Phil just blew up a country and didn’t pay him any attention. Techno however was the only one that showed him any sort of favor.

Ranboo quickly goes over all the pages. He ends up saying that someone did find it (referring to the memory book). Ranboo doesn’t know how Dream found it. Ranboo says there is nothing he can salvage. Ranboo says that L’Manberg is now just a bunch of stones.

Ranboo says he doesn’t want to remember but can’t seem to forget what he doesn’t want to remember. Ranboo reminscies on the ashes of L’Manberg before continuing on that he doesn’t want it remember any of it. Ranboo says that he can’t forget before saying that there’s a chance he can forget (he is referring to burning the memory books). Ranboo once again let’s the firs burn out before saying he can’t forget. Ranboo attempts again to write the names of his friends. He cannot think of anyone. Ranboo refuses to burn the memory book because if he gives up then he’ll just be weak. He calls himself weak but not weak enough to burn the book.

Ranboo brings all his remaining pets (enderchest, enderpearl, jjjjjjjjeffery, and the dog?) to the panic room.

Ranboo is contacted by Phil. Phil asks if he made it out alright. Phil asks if he needs a place to stay. Ranboo says he does. Phil asks what the book was. Ranboo says that it’s a book that keeps the names of all his friends since he has bad memory.

Since Phil called Ranboo he has been talking more and definitely been happier. Phil brought Ranboo to the Antarctic Empire.

Phil says power corrupts absolutely when talking about what happened at L’Manberg.

Phil hits an enderman and then immediately tells Ranboo to look away as he kills the enderman. Ranboo looks away immediately and doesn’t look back up until Phil says to.

Phil shows Ranboo the enderpearl status machine. (I’m not saying that it’s likely that if Techno, Phil, or Ranboo are put in prison it’s likely that they’ll use this to escape but it’s a possibility)

Phil plans on making Ranboo a house next to the dog kennel he plans to build. Techno doesn’t want Ranboo staying in his house since Edward the enderman already lives in there.

Phil tells Ranboo that he doesn’t forgive Dream but that it was more of a business partnership and that it’s not likely that they’ll stay partners.

Ranboo writes both Phil and Techno on his friends list.

Phil asks if Ranboo makes an enderman sound and Ranboo says that he does but only under immense levels of stress (remember last stream when he ended with an enderman sound?)

Phil leaves the call with Ranboo in Techno’s house.

Ranboo says that maybe choosing this side (techno and Phil’s) won’t be so bad. That choosing this side is a good side to be on. That he always says that sides don’t matter but maybe this one does.

Ranboo then says that he’s really happy that Phil talked to him cause he was spiraling and Phil pulled him out of it. Ranboo is finally out of his catastrophifying spiral. Ranboo also says that he should apologize to Fundy cause he was being to mean.

Sorry this took so long, I had homework and this was 3 hours of pure lore so I had quite a bit to write!

TL;DR Most of Ranboo’s pets are alright! L’Manberg is a crater. Niki burnt l’mantree. Fundy is a coward, Quackity wants to play politics. Phil is a lifesaver. Ranboo was spiraling but now he’s not. Ranboo is now with the Antarctic Empire!

[vintagedolan]

hiraeth part five - hoaloha

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“You seem miserable.”

“I am miserable.”

“Then just come home.”

“Kahua you know I can’t.”

He looked tanner over FaceTime. Or maybe she was just used to seeing more white people. She couldn’t really tell, but she caught herself staring at him as he rambled on, voice deep and strong.

She missed him. She missed home. It felt like her LA plan had turned into some sick joke, and she was patiently awaiting the cameras to appear and reveal it all.

At the top of her phone screen, a message appeared.

Tell me three things you like to do

Koa stared at her phone for a moment, chewing on her lip. It was the first non-work related text she’d gotten from him. Against her will, it raised her spirits a bit.

why?

Because we don’t know anything about you :( 

If it wasn’t Ethan texting her, she wouldn’t have even responded. But she knew he was trying to make up for his brother’s shitty behavior, and in the day that she’d had to calm down and talk it out with Harlow, she’d realized she’d probably overreacted a bit more than she needed to. So, she answered as nicely as she could.

writing, surfing, existing, idk

“Bro, who are you texting?”

“No one.” It caught her off guard that she didn’t immediately tell him.

YOU CAN SURF?!

She must have smiled, because Kahua huffed.��“Yeah, sure looks like no one.”

We’re picking you up in the morning at 7. Considering it team building

I’m from Hawaii dumbass of course I can surf

I don’t have a board though

Grayson has an extra

if you show up at 7 you better have coffee in that car

deal 

She sent her address, having to rack her brain to remember the area code.

“Hello? Earth to Koa?”

“Sorry, it was Ethan. He wants to go surfing tomorrow. ‘Team bonding’ he says.”

Kahua frowned. “Why do you need to bond to write a book?”

“He’s just trying to get me back on his good side,” Koa muttered, and she regretted her words when she saw him stiffen. He was protective of her - to a fault.

“And what the fuck did he do to get on your bad side?”

“Nothing! Ethan’s a good guy, he’s just trying to cover his brother’s ass.”

“Okay, the what the fuck did his brother do to get on your bad side?” 

The anger wasn’t lost on her. In her head she saw Grayson, his wide smile, the disappointment in his eyes when she’d stormed out.

“He didn’t really do anything. I overreacted.”

“Doubtful.”

“No really, he was just trying to be nice, I took it the wrong way, but he got the message.”

“Did he hit on you?”

She froze. “Huh?”

“You heard me.” His voice was more aggressive than she was used to - it made her uneasy.

“Uh no, he didn’t. He offered me a car actually.”

“He what?!”

“To borrow! Just to borrow, while I’m here.” 

“Oh cause that makes it better,” he rolled his eyes. That unease came back into Koa’s stomach - she didn’t know this version of her best friend very well. It felt like a stranger on the screen. 

“Alright hoaloha, I gotta go to bed, it’s late here.”

His own attitude seemed to register, and he frowned for a moment before he sighed.

“Yeah, I get you. Goodnight Koa. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

She wished she could sleep, but her mind raced even with her eyes squeezed shut. She even tried to bargain with herself - surely if she just kept her eyes closed, she’d fall asleep.

But the clock read 2, then 3, then 4, and she wasn’t even sure if she actually fell asleep before it was time for her to get up and get ready to surf. 

She didn’t have the energy to put any effort into her outfit. It didn’t matter anyways... who was she trying to impress? She grabbed the first bathing suit her fingers touched and put it on, throwing her up in a bun and grabbing a towel, her wetsuit and a cup of coffee on the way out the door.

The twins were outside. She wouldn’t have known it was them if there weren’t 3 boards strapped to the top of the jeep. The windows were tinted enough that she didn’t know who was driving until she got in.

Grayson turned around from the passenger seat with a cup of coffee in his hands, face falling to a frown when he saw that she already had one. 

He’d brewed two pots, since the first one was too bitter on his taste test.

“You underestimate me,” she teased, reaching out and taking it from him. It was still warm.

“Double fisting the caffeine, I like it I like it,” Ethan grinned, pulling out of the spot and heading for the beach. 

“Hopefully the beach won’t be crowded so we don’t run into anyone on the swells,” Grayson mused just to fill the silence.

“If you’re good, you don’t hit people,” Koa said between sips, watching the palm trees fly by the window. The car was warm, cozy in a way as the sun began to rise over the ocean. It was no Hawaiian sunrise, but it would do for now.

He didn’t say much after that until they got to the beach. Ethan made small talk where he could, and Koa wasn’t unaware of Grayson’s eyes on her while she shimmied into her wetsuit.

“Need help zipping up?” He offered - his cheeks were bright red in an almost boyish way. 

She could reach the long string and do it herself, but she let him as a sign of good faith, grateful that he brushed her stray hairs away from the velcro so it didn’t get trapped and stuck. 

Koa returned the favor for him when he turned around. It took some tugging to get the neoprene to stretch over his wide back. She lingered for a moment as she took in his tattoo; three lions resting together, two young and one old, with the words above and below - others came before me, others to come. It made her pause for a moment, trying to understand. From what she knew of Grayson, it didn’t fit him, his personality, his arrogance.

But did she really know him at all?

“Is it stuck?” His voice pulled her out of her inner monologue, and it was her turn to blush.

“Yeah, sorry, hold on,” she lied, giving it an overdramatic tug and tapping his shoulder to let him know she was done before taking her board from Ethan and heading down the sand. The water was chilly, but she adjusted quickly, starting to paddle as soon as she could. The boys kept up with her well, which didn’t surprise her based on their biceps.

The separation came when the first swell came in. Koa surveyed it, eyes poignant to what was coming. When she recognized the way the water moved, she immediately turned and began to paddle. Three strokes and she should snag it. 

Sure enough, the timing landed just right and she pushed up onto her board the way Amosa had taught her when she was three; press, tuck and push. The wave caught her in its grasp and pushed her forward, exhilaration pumping through every vein. 

And on top of that board, headed towards the shore, she felt at home. 

And in her ears, she heard Grayson. 

Or Ethan. She wasn’t sure, but one or both of them were yelling behind her, cheering her on as she continued across the swell, steady and triumphant.

Grayson couldn’t look away. It sounded dumb, even in his head, but she looked majestic. He couldn’t think of another word for her as she floated across, as stable as if she was walking down the sidewalk. It made him gasp when she bailed to the side and tucked under the wave, but even that was graceful.

It took her a minute to get back to them, but the boys were still cheering. Ethan didn’t hesitate to pull her towards him, giving her a hug with wide eyes. 

“You gotta teach us how to do that bro.”

“It’s all in the timing,” she explained, and then she was talking. Technique, and strategy and watching for the right ones, how to bail - everything she knew. 

Grayson couldn’t get enough of hearing her talk, more animated than he’d ever heard her as she straddled her board and bobbed up and down in the waves. 

“Help me catch one,” Ethan begged. She obliged him, watching closely as the next set rolled in. 

“When I say it, no fucking around or you’ll miss it,” she reminded him. She saw one coming in quickly, gauged it in the same moment and began her instructions.

“Okay, go, go go go, now, up now!” 

To his own amazement, Ethan caught it at the perfect time, feet getting underneath him more solidly than they ever had. He didn’t last as long as he hoped - it was no longboard, but still, he managed to ride it for a good 10 seconds before he bailed to the side. Grayson jeered at him with a smile, watching him bob back up and struggle to get back on his board to paddle out. He thought he could hear people cheering from the shore, and he hoped for a moment they hadn’t been recognized.

“My turn,” Grayson grinned, the butterflies in his stomach a product of Koa’s proximity or the waves, he couldn’t tell.

But when he turned, she was swimming away from him as fast as she could, desperate to get away from him it seemed.

The hurt came first, and then it was immediately replaced by panic. He put the pieces together quickly. 

A woman yelling from the sand, running towards the water. Koa, barreling as fast as her arms could take her in the same direction. 

And a small dot of pink, barely visible above the waves.

“That’s a kid, fuck, thats a KID!” 

He swam as fast as he could, Ethan blindly following. But they were no match for Koa’s many years in the waves. She swam as fast as her board would take her, only slowing enough to ensure she didn’t hit the little girl. She was gasping, her blonde hair down over her forehead.

As gently as she could without wasting any time, Koa grabbed her and hauled her up onto the board, breathing for the first time when she realized the girl was okay. 

“Hi sweetheart, are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s your name?” Koa brushed her hair back just as Grayson got there on his own board, panting.

“I’m Alice. I want my mommy,” she cried, shivering as she laid on the board.

“It’s okay baby, my name is Koa. I’m gonna help you get back to mommy, okay?”

But when Koa began to move, Alice cried louder, scrambling towards her and almost tipping the board.

“No, no the waves are too big! They’re gonna get us!” she whimpered, looking towards the shore. All of them could tell she was terrified, and Koa put on her most convincing smile.

“I know it! They’re pretty big, but guess what?” 

“What?”

“Your mommy sent me to help because I have a special board, and it never tips over, no matter what. So we’ll be extra safe. And these guys are gonna follow us and make sure no waves get us, okay? We’ll be back to mommy so fast.”

She couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7, and Koa was glad. Children still trusted people. And Alice trusted her, her small hands grabbing onto the board as Koa began to kick them in with the boys following behind.

Ethan watched it happen, like the petals of a rose opening up for the first time in spring. 

Grayson was melting. All it took was seeing her once in that light and he knew the reason why he’d sat outside of Monty’s, why he was willing to let her borrow the car, why it bothered him so much that she wanted nothing to do with him. 

He watched her scoop Alice up and carry her to her mother, watched her accept the hug the little girl gave her in gratitude, and he knew that there was something about the stupid book deal, and Ethan being stubborn and her coming all the way from Hawaii that was meant to happen. 

There was no going back from it.

It was done.

When Koa turned to look at him, she couldn’t read the emotion in his eyes. So she just looked; held his gaze and quirked her head a bit when it didn’t falter. 

“What?” 

“You just saved that kid’s life,” he said. “You’re incredible.” 

“Eh, it’s no big deal, had to scoop up some cousins back home at least once a week.” She blew it off, but she blushed anyways.

“Says the hero. C’mon, I think that’s enough ocean for the day, let’s go get breakfast or something,” Ethan jumped in.

“You just don’t wanna let Grayson catch a wave,” Koa teased, nudging his shoulder. He bumped her back and Grayson watched with a smile as they all headed back up towards the car - he couldn’t care less about the waves he was leaving behind. 

They got cleaned up and out of their wetsuits, and the best feeling came when Ethan tossed Grayson his keys and climbed into the back of the jeep over the frame, a silent push for Grayson to keep his momentum as Koa climbed into the passenger seat. 

“Alright hero, what’s for breakfast?” He turned to her with a grin.

“Hmmm... bagels.” 

“Bagels it is.” 

[drwcn]

Not to bring up the distasteful teenager memory of Twilight LMAO, but yall remember that part of the story where it is revealed after Rosalie turns into a vampire she goes and devours every single one of the men who r*ped her.

Fierce Corpse!Qin Su coming for Jin Guangshan’s life.

JIGGY was always looking for ways to make a fierce corpse wasn’t he? Well consider this.

Madam Qin confronts JGY, but it was already too late. Qin Su was already pregnant. JGY, being the dumbest smart person, realized he has fucked up, but what to do? It’s not like he can tell Madam Qin he knocked up his own sister accidentally. Unknowing of this, Madam Qin then went to Qin Su to tell her the truth. Surely even if that degenerate won’t stop this marriage, once Qin Su finds out they are related, she wouldn’t go through with it.

Well, little did Madam Qin expect, once Qin Su finds out, she’s so overcome with disgust she takes her own life (canon compliant, I think? idk what that episode was about to be honest. I always assumed Jiggy drugged her to keep her quiet, but Qin Su was the one to take her own life. Jin Rusong is at best a ball of cells at this stage and abortion is a staple trope of cdrama don’t @ me. I take no criticisms.)

Well shit, now Qin Su is half a step away from death. Jiggy discovers this first, and is like O.O oh feck, but also... opportunity????  He recruits evil gremlin extraordinaire Xue Yang, and beginner’s luck takes them to a successful resurrection.

*cue Mary Shelly shaking her head from beyond the grave or... in the future....technically.*

Qin Su is rightfully like wtf JGY, but Jiggy is like aight sis i know you’re mad, but hey now that everyone knows what’s the deal here, I think we have a common enemy: Jin Guangslut. Should we kill him or should we kill him?

Xue Yang: yo so .... you still gonna get married or what?

Qin Su: if you even think about getting married i swear to god -

JGY: ....okay, how about “fake” marry. Once dear old Dad is dead, we can...idk have an amicable separation. I can even set you up on a date with a guy I know in the fierce corpse community. His sister is still in my basement come to think of it -

QS: what

JGY: what

QS: you are a fucking nutjob, Jiggy, you know that? I can’t believe I was attracted to you.

JGY: first of all that’s hurtful, but... hey at least you didn’t insult my mother.

QS: why would i? our mothers are innocent. *deep sigh* okay fine, how should we kill JGS, I vote for castration. Also *points to the black veins on her paste-y complexion* this is gonna be a problem.

XY: *quirk an eye brow* realllly starting to see the family resemblance now. Don’t worry I got make up to cover that up. Also gotta find you some blush, so you don’t look so ... undead.

~

JGY “so we get prostitutes -”

QS “No. Jiggy, I’m sensing some internalized classism. Let’s just sic Xue Yang on him and be done with it.”

JGY “....you were less bossy before.”

QS “I was also less dead before. Also, Xue Yang doesn’t mind, do you dear?”

XY *eating the candied pastries QS got him* “Nah, not at all, jiejie. I can wear a dress and get dolled up if you want, but I want silk and the dress needs to be tailored. Bespoke. *points to his plate* These are great. Do you have more?”

JGY: *facepalm* what have done.

QS: created a fierce corpse you can’t control. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it brother?

~

QS “I feel bad for Chifeng-zun. If I had to sit and watch you and Lan Xichen make eyes at each other over the guqin day in and day out....”

JGY “Oi, you’re not even my real wife.”

QS “Doesn’t mean I can’t nag you. Also, you have an issue, you know. You can’t just murder your way to the top.”

JGY “I wasn’t -”

QS “Save it. If you give Xue Yang enough candy, he’ll tell you anything.”

JGY “NMJ is a problem. He disrespects -”

QS “You think maybe the reason he thinks you’re a untrustworthy little shit is because you are...an untrustworthy little shit? Also he’s always violent and aggressive towards you...yeah ‘cause you’ve been playing Terrible Temper Tango on repeat for weeks.”

JGY “.....................” *well sis does have a point, maybe i should re-evaluate my strategy “Then what do you suggest I do?”

QS:  I believe Xue Yang calls it “when it doubt, fuck it out.” 

JGY: ...............................you two need to stop hanging out together. 

~

Jin Guangyao and Qin Su spend many nights in the secret chamber plotting together. Apparently the Jin crazy can both be inherited and developed. Qin Su decides her second life is rather nice, and having power is nice too, but she’d rather have some friends. 

*Jiggy and Qin Su’s Ten Step Plan to Un-Fuck the Cultivation World*

Aka Jiggy’s illegal but necessary emergency U-Turn. 

Step 1: Start playing some nice music ffs, and maybe when NMJ is in a better mood, the venerated Triad can be the venerated Triad. ;) 

Step 2: start treating MXY better. He could be useful as a loyal brother. 

Step 3:  Sic him on Nie Huaisang. They seem like they could do well together. Also, the easiest way to get through to NMJ is through his little brother.  

Step 4:  Make Jin Guangshan disappear.

Step 5: Speaking of little brothers, they’re gonna have to eventually deal with Lan Wangji. Even Qin Su’s 78 year old grandma with cataract can see he’s just a liiiiittle hung up on Wei Wuxian, who is unfortunately....dead. 

”How do you suppose we fix this particular problem?” 

”Isn’t there some cultivator prisoner found guilty punishable by death in your single minded cleansing of your political enemies?” 

"Of course. Go on I’m listening, mei-mei.” 

”So while you were off being shady, I did some research. There is a spell. I think a potential trade off could be made if we bargain right. Their soul, which was forfeit anyway, in exchange for a lifetime of protection and financial stability for their families.” 

“>:) dear sister, where have you been all my life I’ll never know.” 

Qin Sun, “Just make sure they’re not too hard on the eye. Lan Wangji doesn’t seem to be the shallow type but one never knows.” 

Step 5: Jiang Wanyin needs an emotional laxative like... last year. Look into resurrecting Jiang Yanli. Once she’s alive, all that Yunmeng Bullshit will resolve, and you will also have a Lotus Pier forever grateful for Jin Guangyao and Qin Su’s kindness. If that doesn’t work...idk get Jiang Wanyin a dog. 

“Okay, hooow are you going to get a woman to give up her soul to -”

“Can we fierce corpse her? Wei Wuxian had a bunch of undead ladies hanging around right?” 

“........worth looking into.” 

Step 6:  Jin Zixuan. Yikes -

JGY “I didn’t kill Jin Zixuan. Wei Wuxian did.” (note: CQL washed WWX of any responsibility for the deaths of others by making it so that the Song of Turmoil caused him to lose control. This, in fact, is not what is written in book canon. WWX did lose control by himself without external influence. I can cherry pick the plot points I want to keep.) 

QS “..........but you sent him to his death.” 

JGY “..........”

QS *Deep sigh* “Who can we throw under the bus this time for Jin Zixuan’s death, Jigs? Someone that won’t be missed...got it. Su She.” 

JGY “He’s loyal to me, he’s an ally -” 

QS “Listen here, once you resurrect Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian, you will have the eternal gratitude of Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan. Who gives a shit about Su Minshan that simpering turd.” 

JGY: True. *he’s understood by now that he could get rid of those who would talk shit, belittle, and disrespect him...but he could always do more with a couple of important influential people who would spread words of his goodness. Stubborn righteous cultivators like the Jiangs, Nies and Lans.* “Also Jin Zixuan’ll be an undead, not able to inherit. We’re safe.” 

QS: “Exactly.” 

Xue Yang: eating candy......... *eye roll* 

Step 7: Because Step 6 didn’t work out, forget about Jin Zixuan. 

JGY: “you know... maybe Jin Zixuan moved on.” 

QS: “Would explain why we couldn’t call his soul back the way we called back Jiang-gu’niang.” Qin Su glances back at Jiang Yanli’s soul-infused clay body in the process of being reanimated (lifted this idea straight from Inuyasha - ahem- kikyo.) “It’s probably better this way. I don’t like the thought of sharing the control of Lanling Jin with more people.” 

JGY:  “Ah, blood of my blood you are indeed.”

Step 8:  Reveal Jin Guangshan’s evil deeds. Once they kill Dear Ol’ Dad, they can just blame EVERYTHING on him and have him be the disgrace of the entire cultivation world, and them the unfortunate children left to do his bidding and trying the best they could to salvage what they can from his trail of ruins.

Step 9: Reunite Wen Ning and Wen Qing. Lie. Blame it all on Jin Guangshan who is too dead to argue in his own defense. If Jiang Wanyin finds out about Wen Qing...well, information gets around. 

JGY “So about that Date.” 

Qin Su: “Yes I distinctively remember you promising me eligible young men of the Fierce Corpse Community.” 

JGY: >:) I’m here to make good on my words. 

Step 10: Reap the benefits of a world restored. 

[smileyjaeminies]

Call me friend

Synopsis: Your relationship with Jisung is complicated to say the least. How long will you be able to put up with his mood swings and push and pull tactics?

Word Count: 4,1k

Genre: Angst, fxck boy! Jisung

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking

Member: Jisung, ft. some of Skz

A/N: When I started writing my Minho work, I knew it should be followed up with something about Jisung. I hope you enjoy the mess that is this fic, I surely did!

This work is based on Billie Eilish’s ‘when the party is over’, please listen while you read!

  What began as a slight drizzle, soon turned to a full on downpour. The rain struck harshly on the widows, providing another layer of background noise that blended with the soft sounds of music playing through your speakers. The song was one you were unfamiliar with, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much, all your thoughts surrounding the boy in front of you, the feeling of his arms around you and his tongue exploring your mouth.

  Lighting struck, making a noise too loud for you to dismiss. You jumped visibly, goosebumps standing up on your skin. You broke away from the kiss, raising your head to look out of the window.

  “What is it?” Jisung whispered.

  Your eyes skimmed the world outside, the wind making the trees dance and the rain making little puddles on the streets.

  “It’s nothing” you tried.

  Your voice failed you however and as lightning struck for a second time, you couldn’t repress a small squeal.

  “Y/N, are you scared of lightning?” Jisung asked you, rubbing your arm sweetly.

  You wanted to say no, hating looking vulnerable in front of other people, especially him. With one look at Jisung’s expression however, you knew he had already seen too much to be fooled. A soft nod did the trick, as Jisung graced you with a soft smile before hugging you close to his chest.

  “Do you want me to stay? We can just chill for a while until the storm blows off” he offered.

  “Okay… But we have to watch my ‘I’m having a bad day’ movie.” You tried to bargain.

  “Which is?” he asked curiously.

  “Miss Congeniality” you answered him.

  He grunted loudly, falling back on your bed. He didn’t bother to try to change your mind so soon after both of you were under your blankets watching the movie. You would jump here and there, but Jisung would always reach for your hand to console you.

  You thought you’d be too tense for it, but slowly you fell asleep on Jisung’s side. Waking up the next morning, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. You tried not to be disappointed, but your heart fell when you realized the space beside you was empty.

  He always did this. Always tip- toed against the edge of friendship and relationship. Always promised to stay, only to disappear once you fell asleep. Always went from hot to cold in a second, always managed to lure you back in.

  It had been a few months since the first night Jisung kissed you. You recall the small gasp you let out and how he used it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Since then, you had tried (and failed) to cut it off with him on numerous occasions.

  And yet… Jisung was like a drug to you. You knew he was so, so bad for you, but you couldn’t help sticking to him. So every time he knocked on your dorm door, or took your hand to lead you somewhere more private at a party, you let him. Because you couldn’t imagine a world where you’d say no to him, or at least, one where he would take it.

  As much as it tore you to pieces, this dynamic between you worked. And for every fight, Jisung would make it up to you with a wonderful evening for just you two. Even if he’d ignore you the next day in class. Even if he’d leave.

  You stayed in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep and cherishing Jisung’s lingering scent on your bed sheets. He smelled of pine wood, something about a body wash he used all the time. Suddenly, you remembered there was a party at Chan’s that night, a party you were expected to attend, to meet one of Jisung’s old childhood friends.

  You turned around on your bed to face the window. You wondered how Jisung would introduce you to this guy. Probably just a friend. A friend he frequently kissed and spent the night with. A friend he shared breakfast with and knew their order at McDonald’s. Just friendly stuff... Right?

  It was high time you headed to the library to get some work done. You got ready and walked the short way from your dorm to the campus’s coffee shop, to caffeine up and get to studying. On this Saturday morning, everyone seemed to be rushing to the library, and you couldn’t really blame them. With midterms coming up and deadlines soon approaching, everyone had their own load of work to get done.

  You chose a table near the window and set up your things. Opening the half-done word document, you let out a long sigh. This assignment was due soon, but you simply hated working on it. It was partly the reason you had texted Jisung the previous night, you needed a breather. Usually, he would be the one to reach out for whatever crappy excuse, only to come to your dorm and steal away moments of comfort.

  You shook your head, trying to shake away your thoughts as well. You did your best to concentrate and get at least some work done. After a few hours of furiously writing down information, writing and re-writing your thesis, you could safely say your mind was turning into mush.

  Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh before getting back to work. As you tried to word your argument better, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder, and someone pressing a kiss on your cheek. You jumped and were about to snap, when Jisung plopped down on the chair next to you, giving you his signature gummy smile.

  Your anger evaporated immediately, as you smiled back at him.

  “Hi, gorgeous” he greeted you.

  “Thanks for the heart attack” you whispered back.

  “You looked so cute, I just couldn’t help myself” he answered, resting his head on his hand.

  And there it was. By doing the bare minimum, he had you wrapped around his finger. And the worst part was, you didn’t even mind.

  You faked being angry, looking away from him and back to your work. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke up.

  “What time should I pick you up tonight?”

  That was a first. For the longest time, you would arrive separately at parties, despite leaving together each time. You tried to mask your excitement when you answered him.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Just tell me when to get ready.”

  “Does 10 o’clock sound good?” he asked.

  “Sure” you told him, nodding your head but not looking at him.

  “Can I get a kiss?” he whispered, inching closer to you.

  “Nope.” You teased, not tearing your eyes from your books and notes.

  “Y/N” he warned, his voice getting deeper.

  “Hm?” you asked, feigned ignorance.

  And you broke him. He grabbed your face, turning you to face him before connecting your lips. You drew away quickly, as your cheeks heated up. His cocky smile only made your cheeks burn brighter, as you kicked him under the table, murmuring a “Shut up”.

  He got up, holding his aching shin, to place a small kiss on your head.

  “Can you wear that red dress that I like?” he asked.

  “I don’t know… Can I?” you pushed him further.

  He shot you a stern look as he walked away. Tonight was going to be fun, you decided.

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

  A few minutes before ten, you found yourself sitting in front of the mirror, placing a few extra curls into your hair. You were wearing the red dress Jisung asked for, with a set red lipstick and black heels. As you were giving your hair one last look, your heard a knock on your door.

  Standing up to answer it, you weren’t surprised to find Jisung waiting on the other side. He was wearing all black, finishing off his ripped jeans and t-shirt with a black leather jacket.

  “Bad boy much?” you asked him, moving inside to grab some necessary items to put in your purse.

  “Fuck you.” He told you and you smiled at yourself.

  “Not quite yet.” You told him, pushing him out of the door.

  You made your way to Jisung’s familiar car that was parked in front of your building. You drove off to Chan’s place as a random radio station filled the silence in the car. You were humming to the song when you felt Jisung rest his hand on your thigh, which you brushed off as something he did now and again.

  However, when his hand started moving, pushing your dress further up your thigh, you knew you had to intervene. Placing your hand on top of his, you moved it on the center console, dropping it on there. You gave his hand a little pat when you saw it gripping the stick.

  “Behave” you simply told Jisung, who did nothing to acknowledge your words.

  Shortly after, you were parking the car on Chan’s already busy street. The faint sound of music got louder as you walked towards the house with Jisung next to you. Of course he wasn’t holding your hand or anything, simply walking beside you.

  You were about to walk up to the house when Jisung pulled you back. You looked at him, expecting him to say something, but he stayed silent, merely looking at you.

  “What?” you asked him.

  Again, he took a few moments to look at you before speaking up.

  “Nothing. You look pretty” he said simply, holding your hand and leading you inside the house.

  You tried not to think about your entwined hands as you walked in, already faced with a crowd of people dancing, drinking and smoking. You navigated through the well-known house, with Jisung dropping nods and hello’s here and there. You stopped at the kitchen first, where you fixed yourself a drink while Jisung talked to a friend of his.

  You tried to walk to the living room to find Chan, but yet again, Jisung stopped you.

  “Tonight, you stick with me” he whispered in your ear and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

  He didn’t bother to introduce you to the person he was talking to, only kept you close by holding your waist as you mulled over his words. He didn’t give you enough time though, so you were completely taken aback when he started lightly pushing you to the living room.

  You tried to keep your head straight as you walked in the room, finally finding some familiar faces there. You wiggled out of Jisung grasp to fall into Chan’s arms, thankful to finally be with someone on your side.

  Chan was your connective link with Jisung. You were proud to say he had been your friend first, as he used to live on the floor just above you in the dorms. Through mutual runs to the campus’s coffee shop and running different errands around campus, a friendship blossomed between you, one you maintained even after Chan decided to join a fraternity in his second year.

  He was partly the reason you met Jisung too, although you never held it against him. He was a good friend and always gave you honest advice. He urged you to cut things off with Jisung on numerous occasions, but your reply was always the same.

  “He won’t let me go”

  “Oh, finally” you said, squeezing your friend in your arms.

  “What took you so long?” Chan asked.

  “He won’t let me go. He’s being so weird today, I don’t know what’s wrong with him” you answered.

  Chan shot a quizzical look to Jisung over your shoulder before greeting him warmly. Changbin, one of Jisung’s best friends and also part of the fraternity, greeted you with a curt nod, which you returned.

  The party went on as you danced and drank, Jisung drilling holes into your skull every time you walked two feet away from him. At some point, you were tucked in a corner with a friend of yours, Courtney, when Jisung emerged from the kitchen, bee lining straight to you.

  “He’s here” he told you, forcefully taking your hand and dragging you to the door.

  A boy emerged, who you recognized from pictures as Minho, Jisung’s childhood friend. He was strikingly handsome, his jet black hair now pushed back away from his forehead, complimenting his fair skin. He looked put together, adorning a sky blue button down with black jeans.

  You didn’t fail to note how his eyes shined when they fell upon Jisung, or how warmly the two boys hugged. After exchanging a few words between themselves, they simultaneously turned to look at you.

  “This is my friend, Y/N” Jisung introduced you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

  At the sound of the word ‘friend’ you turned to look at Jisung. You wanted to scoff at him, after all the things he’d pulled today, ‘friend’ was how he introduced you. You remembered your promise to be nice when you met his friend, so you plastered a fake smile on your face and gave him your sweetest look.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you! Jisung talks a lot about you!” you told him.

  “I hope he hasn’t told you all the embarrassing things I’ve ever done. I think he keeps a list” Minho said jokingly.

  “I sure do! It’s alphabetized.” Jisung played along.

  And so Minho was led further into the room and introduced to a couple of other friends, before the both of them took a seat on the couch. You had just returned to Courtney’s side, when you felt someone staring at you. You glanced around the room, only to make eye contact with Jisung.

  He was doing nothing to be discreet, staring at you over Minho’s shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared back at him just as openly, keeping up your conversation.

  When he motioned you to go over to him, you slightly shook your head. You excused yourself for a refill and walked in the kitchen.

  “Jesus!” you screamed over the loud music.

  In the middle of the kitchen stood Changbin, face sucking a girl you didn’t know. They broke apart to look over at you, not bothering with a ‘Sorry’.

  “Get a fucking room. The kitchen is public space” you said, grabbing a Smirnoff bottle.

  “Fuck you.” Changbin said.

  “Why would I? She already is” you told him, pointing at the other girl and walking out.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” Changbin asked, following you.

  You pretended not to hear as you walked back in the living room. Changbin grabbed your hand, spinning you around to face him.

  “I asked you a question” he said, pulling you close to him.

  His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, but then again, yours probably did too. You were about to answer him, probably break his tiny arm in the process, when Jisung stepped in.

  He pulled his friend away, pushing him in a corner where they struck up a heated conversation.

  “Is everything okay?” a voice asked behind you.

  You turned around to find Minho looking at you curiously. You shook your head, suddenly completely overwhelmed. The blasting music and bright lights weren’t helping your case, so you moved outside without a word.

  You took your seat on the front lawn, moving your head to look at the sky. You soon regretted that decision, your head throbbing in dismay. You let out a whine, shutting your eyes closed.

  When your head stopped spinning and your eyes came back in focus, you realized that someone had sat down next to you. You were surprised to find Minho next to you, head looking up.

  An awkward silence set between you as you couldn’t think of anything to say. You took your chance to get some clean air, maybe too much as the wind came in contact with your skin, making you shudder.

  “Are you cold?” he asked softly.

  “A little” you replied with the same tone.

  “Do you want to go back inside?” he asked again.

  You didn’t need to think, only shaking your head no. He looked at you with almost a sad look on his face, softly cocking his head on one side.

  “I only just got here… I wish we’d had a chance to talk more” he said.

  You didn’t know how to answer him, so you just didn’t. Opening the Uber app, you tried to call for one.

  “You’re getting an Uber? Don’t you have a ride?” he asked you.

  “I don’t think my ride wants to talk to me right now” you said.

  The Uber was going to be there in seven minutes. You announced the new piece of information to Minho who simply nodded his head.

  “Y/N, can I tell you something?” he asked.

  You were getting tired of his constant questions, but you didn’t want to be rude. You nodded your head, turning to properly look at him.

  “I think you’re really beautiful. From what I’ve gathered from Jisung, you’re not seeing anyone right now, so I thought that maybe I could get your number? Maybe we could go out some time, get to know each other better.” He said.

  The world started spinning again. It must have been some kind of sick joke. Or maybe a test? You ran a hand through your hair, before turning around…

  Only to find Jisung looking straight at you.

  His eyes were burning with anger, his fists clenched on his sides. He looked from you to Minho, waiting for someone to speak up. At the end, he did.

  “So? What are you gonna do? Go on a little date to get to know Prince Minho over there?” he mocked you.

  “Maybe I will. Since I’m not seeing anyone right now.” You answered, confronting him on his lie, Minho’s presence long forgotten.

  “Isn’t that so?” Jisung asked, jumping down from the porch and walking up to you.

  “Hey, aren’t you happy that your two friends are getting along?” you asked, almost slapping the word friend on his face.

  “Fuck, I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you were this bad” he spat out.

  You would have liked it better if he slapped you. You raised your hand to strike him, but Minho held you back. You shot him an incredulous look, twisting away from his hold.

  “That’s enough, both of you” he said sternly.

  “What do you know about it?” you asked him, giving him a hard shove.

  Your emotions were overflowing from you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your hands were shaking with anger, your knees weak. The phone in your hand buzzed, announcing the arrival of your Uber who honked to get your attention.

  Jisung came up to you, your faces almost touching. You took a sharp breath at the close proximity, immediately cursing your body for the way it reacted to him.

  “You’re mine. You and I both know it. So don’t fucking test me.” He warned.

  “Fuck that. I’m mine. I’ve had enough of your shit, go find another rag doll to do whatever you please with. Don’t you dare came crawling back to me again. If I see you in front of me, I will end you”” You spat back at him.

  He was taken aback, almost falling when you pushed him away from you. His anger was short-lived however, now regarding you curiously, seemingly not realizing what you were saying to him. You turned to leave, but decided you had one last thing to say. You met his eyes, your voice sure when you said,

    “I told you once that I thought I didn’t have it in me to hate someone. But I hate you. I hate you so much” you told him, a sob choking you.

  He made one step closer to you as you took a step back. Your Uber honked once again and finally you turned around, walking in the car.

  “Please drive” you told the woman seating behind the wheel.

  You saw Jisung running up to the car as you drove off, but you weren’t moved.

  “Is everything alright darling?” she asked you.

  Tears were now streaming down your face, probably ruining your make up.

  “Not really. But I’ll live” you answered her, your voice breaking.

  “It’s going to be okay girl, I believe in you” she told you.

  “Tonight was supposed to be fun” you thought to yourself.

  You whispered a thank you to her and stayed silent for the rest of the short ride. Finally safe and sound in your dorm room, your phone started ringing, Jisung’s name dominating the screen. You declined his call, turning off your phone completely.

  Your head felt heavy, so without bothering with your make up, you slipped in your most fuzzy pajamas and inside your covers. Exhausted from the ups and downs of the day, you turned your brain off, falling asleep almost immediately.

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

  You were woken up from a loud knock on your door. You knew who it was, so you just shuffled deeper inside your comforter, hoping to brush him off. He was persistent, you’d give him that, knocking for almost fifteen minutes. He would call out for you again and again, pleading you to answer the door.

  All of it fell on deaf ears. And as your silence only grew, his desperation did as well. He started screaming, threatening that he was going to break down the door. He then proceeded to call you every name in the book, so loud security came to take him away.

  You spent the rest of the night alternating between crying and staring blankly at your ceiling. You must’ve drifted off without realizing, for you managed to peel your eyes open sometime the next day. You made yourself get off the bed and into the bathroom. The hot water cleared your head as much as your body and as you walked out of the shower, you had your game plan laid in front of you.

  You forced down some of yesterday’s leftovers, before burying yourself back in your bed. You tried with all your might to compose yourself and decided it was time to open your phone.

  The second it was on, a flood of messages poured in. You read of 110 missed calls from Jisung, with about 30 voicemails. A complicated array of texts was also to be found, a good portion of them from Jisung and also some from Chan.

  Taking a deep breath, you opened Jisung’s messages. You didn’t bother reading them, only started writing your own message to him.

  Jisung,

  You finally broke me, didn’t you? You managed to make me snap. I will not apologize for last night.

  The truth is, this is my last goodbye to you. I had a realization last night. That is one simple fact: You won’t be able to hurt me if I don’t let you. And I’ve let you hurt me for far too long.

  Starting tomorrow, I won’t be using this number anymore. I’ll start afresh and I’m leaving you behind. I’m going to switch dorms too and I’ll be staying over at some friend’s until that happens, so don’t bother to come over again. I know you know my timetable, but don’t make a fool out of both you and me in front of our professors. Security usually isn’t too far away and I’d hate for someone to haul you out of your own uni.

  I’m sorry I spent so much time on you. I’m sorry to me. I should’ve known better. But oh well.

  Jisung, I hope one day you come to know how good I was to you. And consequently how bad you were to me. Perhaps after this you’ll grow a pair, perhaps not. Surely I won’t be there to find out

  Bye now.

  PS: Don’t bother Chan to help you find me. He won’t.

    Not even bothering to read it through, you sent the text. It was read immediately. You even had time to see the three little dots pop up before blocking his number. You switched off your phone again for good measure, dropping it under your bed.

  The plan was in action. Step one was done. Steps two through four would be left for tomorrow. Step five would be the hardest one. But with enough time, you’d be able to let him go.

[tragiceyes]

The Importance of Being Honest

Note: Because of course I had to write a quarantine Jaydick fic. And it’s a little too dialogue-heavy to be a good fic, but I still had a lot of fun writing it!

Summary: Fourteen days Jason and Dick have to stay in quarantine together. Fourteen days until he kicks Dick to the curb forevermore. Jason’s counting down. Link to ao3 --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598802 (read it there, better formatting)

14.

Fourteen days left. Jason was counting his lucky stars they’d gotten stuck at one of his more robust safe houses. Half his places in the City were one-room, bare bones bunkers, with enough food and clothing for a couple days tops.

Conversely, they were trapped at his place in the Bowery, which, for all intents and purposes, had the form and function of a normal apartment. Fully stocked cabinets, a comfy couch and plenty of books to pass the time.

That is, if one could concentrate on reading.

Dick let out a long-suffering sigh. His tenth in the past five minutes.

“Christ, Dick, can you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate here.”

“I’m bored, Jason,” Dick complained, “if you had more interesting things to do in your apartment-“

“-there are literally two shelves full of books right behind you-”

“I don’t feel like reading.”

Honestly, Dick was such a child.

“I don’t care what you feel like, find some way to entertain yourself,” Jason snapped at him, “or get out of my sight.”

Dick fell silent. He was the type of person who’d prefer silent company over lonely exile, Jason considered.

Jason returned to his book.

For a moment.

Dick stood on his hands and began tottering around upside down.

Jason let out a sigh of his own.

13.

Monday morning. Jason had the same breakfast every day: six eggs and six strips of bacon. After pointedly ignoring Dick’s request for cereal, Jason was making enough for both of them.

Dick was making coffee.

“You don’t have any cereal? Not even Cheerios?”

“No, Dick. I don’t like to start my day eating a bowlful of sugar, and neither should you.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Okay, grease monster.”

“Dick, this is a protein-rich breakfast. I burn through at least half it before lunch with my workout routine.”

“Yes, you have very nice abs, Jason. We’re all very proud.”

“How long do you think the energy from that cereal’s gonna last you? One or two girly cartwheels?”

“I’m an acrobat. I don’t want to be built like a tank.”

“Yeah, I can see you prefer to be built more like a ballerina.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jason.”

Jason sauntered over and dropped a plate in front of him. He grabbed Dick’s hand and slid it under his shirt, “Feel that, Dickie-bird? Try punching through that and you’d break your feminine wrist.”

“Impressive,” Dick concerned with a smirk, “or, it would be, if I hadn’t still beaten you in hand-to-hand combat countless times.”

“What you do isn’t hand-to-hand combat, Dick. It’s more like a rousing game of ’dodge-the-fist.’”

“Whatever, Jason.” Dick withdrew his hand, but not before purposefully yanking a little on the hair beneath Jason’s belly button.

He wasn’t above being petty.

12.

Dick was a slob!

He was leaving his clothes everywhere, like a trail Jason could follow to find him.

It had only been two days. How had he made such a mess?

He stomped into the bedroom, where Dick was sitting on the floor, video-chatting Wally West.

“Pick up your shit, Dick!” Jason yelled, tossing the clothes at him, “This is my fucking apartment, have the decency to clean up after yourself!”

Dick hung up the phone, and removed the dirty shirt in his lap, “God! I’m sorry! You could just fucking ask-“

“You’re a fucking adult, Dick! I shouldn’t have to ask you to clean up after yourself!”

“-and I would have-“

“It’s not a fucking circus in here!” Jason stormed into the other room, having no further escape, “fucking trailer park circus boy!”

He instantly regretted that. Wasn’t like he hadn’t grown up poor himself. Dick’s trailer was no more shameful than his parents’ dilapidated apartment.

Or the occasional cardboard box.

He felt sorry. He hoped Dick hadn’t heard.

11.

“Jason, can I borrow something else to wear?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been wearing the same thing for the past three days. Can I borrow something of yours?”

“Oh, yeah. Go for it.”

Dick emerged from the bedroom in a pair of jeans he’d cuffed at least six times (they still dragged on the floor) and a t-shirt emblazoned with the Red Hood logo.

Jason liked it, though he couldn’t say why.

10.

Dick was lounging on his couch watching television, taking up as much space as humanly possible.

Jason ambled over, shirtless and still a little sweaty after his at-home workout.

“Whatcha watching?”

“Love is Blind.”

He snorted, “Seriously?”

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.”

“Sit up and move over, then.”

To his surprise, Dick moved over to make room for him.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes.

“I can’t believe you watch this crap. Honestly, Dickie, do you have no shame?”

“It’s not as bad as you make it out to be."

“Nothing about this is even remotely real.”

“Sometimes it’s real. And they really fall in love.”

Jason laughed heartily at that, “You’re kidding, right?”

Dick ignored him.

“Love at first sight? On reality tv?” Jason mocked him, “You do know people don’t really believe in that shit, don’t you?”

“They want to believe it.” Dick said simply.

9.

Jason had just brushed his teeth and was getting ready for bed.

Dick was lying back on the couch, a hot towel over his eyes.

“You alright there, bird brain?”

“Fine.”

“What’s with the towel-blindfold?”

“My eyes get really dry at night. Hot towels help a little bit.”

Jason bit down on his smirk, “Hmph.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just, I guess Mr. Perfect is mortal like the rest of us.”

Dick pulled the towel off his eyes to glare at him, “I’m not perfect, Jason. You’re just insecure.”

Jason raised his eyebrows, taken aback, “Well, tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m sick of you saying shit like that. You’ve been snarking at me since you were a kid. And I’m sick of everyone else saying shit like that, too. I never claimed to be fucking perfect, so it’s not my fault when people have ridiculous expectations of me that I can’t live up to.”

“Relax, Dickface, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize it was such a sore subject.”

Dick’s face fell a bit, “Well, it is. You all expect a lot from me, and I can’t always be what you want me to be.”

He put the towel back over his face.

8.

Dick was in his bed.

Dick was in his bed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jason demanded.

Dick looked up at him, “I think we should trade tonight. I’ve been sleeping on the couch for almost a week.”

“Yeah, and you’ll be sleeping there for another week. Beat it!”

Dick didn’t budget, “Come on, Jason. It’s uncomfortable. It’s too cramped and my back hurts in the morning.”

“You know what isn’t too cramped? The floor. Try that.”

Dick snuggled into his pillow, the bastard.

“Dick.”

Dick ignored him.

“DICK!”

“Just for tonight.” Dick said it like he was bargaining, but it was clear he wasn’t going to move.

“Dick, you’re 5’10-“

“5’11!”

“-I’m 6’3. I need more space than you. Physically.”

“We can share, if you want.”

Jason glared at him, “You want me to come over there and move you myself?”

Dick didn’t even glance his way, “Try it.”

Jason stomped over to the bed and grabbed Dick’s ankle. Dick slithered out his grip. Jason lunged for him, and they wrestled on the bed together. He had the weight advantage, but Dick could be as slippery as a snake.

Jason moved to crush him, but Dick wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist and flipped them over. He seated himself right on Jason’s stomach, and grabbed both his wrists, bearing down so they were face to face.

He smirked, “Pinned ya.”

Jason’s face was red and his stomach felt funny.

Dick curled up tight like a child, far away from him, his head resting on Jason’s favorite pillow.

“This is a one-time thing.” Jason said aloud to himself.

Dick was already asleep.

7.

“You’re smiling.”

Jason looked up from his book, “What?”

“You’re smiling at your book.”

Jason stared at him.

“Did something funny happen?”

“No…I, uh…I just like this line.” Jason mumbled to himself, “In The Importance of Being Earnest.”

Dick waited patiently. Jason swallowed.

“When Jack leaves, Gwendolen says ‘If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life,’” Jason reads the line, biting down on his smile, “I always liked that line. It’s a good line.”

“It is a good line.”

Jason nodded at him awkwardly and continued to read.

“That’s cute.”

Jason snapped his head up so quickly, he cricked his neck, “What did you say?”

“It’s sweet,” Dick was smiling at him now, “that a line in a book makes you smile like that. I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jason.”

Jason bit back the denial on the tip of his tongue. He returned to his book, feeling the heat of Dick’s gaze warm his cheeks.

6.

The next morning, Jason was greeted with an unusual, though not totally unwelcome, sight.

Dick was contorted on the floor, ass up in the air and knees boxed around his ears.

What the fuck.

“Karnapidasana.”

“Gesundheit.”

Dick let out a soft chuckle, “I’m doing yoga.”

He gestured flimsily to Jason’s laptop, which was open to a YouTube video on advanced yoga practice.

“Sorry I borrowed your computer without asking. Hope you don’t mind.”

Jason’s mouth was a little dry.

“Not at all.”

Dick breathed in time with the practice, “You’re free to join me.”

“Thanks, but…pretty sure I can’t do anything resembling that.”

Dick slowly untangled himself, “We can do a beginner’s class. Give it a try, it’ll do wonders for your state of mind.”

Jason considered snapping back that his state of mind was perfectly fine for someone who’d watched his mother die, lived on the streets, been beaten to death, resurrected, and replaced, but instead he just said:

“Okay.”

5.

Dick was singing a soft tune in a language Jason didn’t know.

Strange. The Bat had trained them in all the same languages, or so he had assumed.

He wanted to complain, but true to form, Dick had a nice voice, and Jason had been about to take a nap anyway.

He closed his eyes and let Dick’s gentle voice wash over him:

“Nane man dajori,

ňi kalo dadoro, ačhiľom korkoro

sar čhindo kaštoro.”

4.

Dick was scrolling through the channels when he noticed Jason rummaging around in the cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

“Just looking for some yeast?”

“Yeast?”

“Yeah, I was gonna bake a loaf of bread to go with dinner.”

Bake bread from scratch? Jason was clearly a more sophisticated cook than Dick had realized.

“I didn’t know you could bake bread from scratch.”

“I can do a lot of things.”

“Will you show me?”

Jason looked over at him, surprised.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Kneading was fun. Dick wasn’t doing it right.

“Not like that! You’re going to tear it.” Jason admonished him.

Dough was stuck to Dick’s hands. He tried to push it back into the mound.

“No, look. Like this.” Jason moved behind him, taking Dick’s hands in his own and guiding them rhythmically.

Push. Turn. Push. Turn. Flip. Push. Turn.

“Better. Keep doing that.” Jason let him go and turned to switch on the oven.

He liked the feeling of his hands on Dick’s.

3.

“Let’s play a game!”

“No.”

“Come on, Jason. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

“Well, I’d rather do nothing.”

“Come on. A drinking game. Let’s drink the rest of your stash and play a game.”

Jason rolled his eyes, knowing he was going to give in. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

“Fine. Go get my whiskey.”

Dick grinned triumphantly and made his way to the kitchen, returning with the bottle and two glass tumblers. He sat on the floor and patting the space across from him for Jason.

“What, we can’t use chairs like civilized people?”

“Come on. It’s more fun this way.”

Jason made his way to the floor, taking a pillow with him. He took the bottle from Dick’s hand and poured a finger into each glass, “What are we playing?”

“Truth or Dare.”

“How very high school of you.”

“You can go first.”

“Fine. Truth.”

“Who’s your favorite Robin?”

“I hate all of you equally.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Stephanie, then.”

“Good choice. How come?”

“Because fuck the Replacement-”

“Jason-“

“And I don’t like the demon child.”

“He’s not a demon child.”

“-but you knew exactly who I was talking about…”

That surprised a laugh out of Dick. Jason was surprised. Usually, Dickie-bird was much more sensitive about his little demon friend.

“What about me then?” He asked with a self-satisfied grin.

“You’re in second place.”

“All right!”

“It’s a distant second.”

“Fair enough.”

Dick was still grinning at him with a funny look it his eye. It was making Jason feel exposed. He took a swig from his glass.

“Your turn.”

“Truth.”

“Same question.”

“Oh, I love all of you equally.” What a sap.

“That’s a cop-out.”

“But it’s true!”

“No, it’s not. Your favorite is Demon Boy, followed by Replacement, followed by Steph, followed, in a distant fourth, by me.”

“That’s not true, Jason!”

“Yes, it is.”

“You were a great Robin-“

"Yeah, okay."

"I mean it!"

“Well, you didn’t exactly think so at the time I took the job.”

Dick’s face fell. Jason hated himself for hating himself for doing that.

“That was…complicated. And it wasn’t about you.”

“Whatever. I want a dare this time.”

“I dare you to lick the floor.”

“What the fuck, Dick!”

“What? These floors are immaculate.”

“They aren’t, not since you’ve been here.”

“Are you really going to chicken out this early, Jason?”

“You are fucking deranged.” Jason said authoritatively. But he bent down and licked the floor anyway.

“Ew!”

“Fuck you, Dick.”

Several drinks and rounds into the game, and things were starting to get a little hazy.

“Your turn.” Dick slurred, flat on his back.

“Truth.”

“Coward.”

“Last time you made me dump ice cubes down my pants, and my nuts are still numb. I’m not taking any more chances.”

“Who was the first person you ever liked? Like like liked.”

Jason wanted to mock his language, but he was suddenly feeling a little warm, “Pass.”

“You can’t.”

“I’ll take a dare, then. Go ahead and make me drink from the toilet or something.”

Dick snickered at that, “No, you have to answer. That’s the law according to the rules.”

“You don’t need to know.”

“I really need to know now, cons-slithering…condisering...considering how much you don’t wanna tell  me.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t laugh at you, lil’ wing…”

“What a fucking liar.”

Dick cackled. “Fine, maybe I will then.”

“I’m not telling.”

“You have to,”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaassseeee?”

“Fuck no.”

“Please, please, please, please." Dick chanted. "Please!”

“GOD! Shut up! It was you, okay! Fuck!”

Dick’s jaw dropped, his eye wide. He looked like a fish. Jason decided to tell him so.

“You look like…you fucking fish. You look like a fucking fish.” He took a defiant swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.

“You like fish then. Fish fucker!”

Jason couldn’t stop a laugh for bubbling up, but being mid sip causing a bit of whiskey to go up his nose. It burned like hell!

“Fuck! You! You just made whiskey go up my nose!”

Dick was laughing hysterically, unsympathetic as can be.

“Fuck, that burns.” Jason coughed loudly, “God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Dick was teasing him now, and Jason couldn’t stand it. His face was reddening and he was glad to have to whiskey as an excuse.

“Get over yourself.”

“You really liked me?”

“Yeah, I really did. Which made you hating me fffffff-fucking hurtful." Jason continued thickly. The alcohol was really loosening his tongue now, and this could only end badly, "You hurt my fucking feelings, you know.”

“Jason,” Dick was crawling over to him now. Jason began scooting away, “Jason, I’m sorry.”

“Get away!”

“I want a hug!”

“No! Get back!”

But Dick was relentless. To Jason’s clear horror, he climbed up on his lap and threw his arms around Jason’s neck and pressed his face into Jason’s shoulder.

“God!” Jason yelled. He would never forgive himself if he went hard, “Damn you! Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving and just hug me!” As though Dick wasn’t the one squirming on top of him, absolutely clueless as to the effect it was having on him.

Jason groaned miserably. What had he done to deserve such torture?

“Get. Off.”

Dick squeezed him a little harder before relenting unhappily, “Fine.”

He crawled away on all fours, until Jason, emboldened further by the alcohol, raised a hand and brought it down as hard as he could against Dick’s ass.

SMACK!

“OW! Fuck, Jason!” Dick cried indignantly.

Jason was cackling madly at the look of disbelief on his face, “Ha! That’s what you get!”

“That hurt!” Dick dragged himself to safety, far from Jason’s reach, “Jesus Christ.”

He knocked over the bottle of whiskey on his way. Fortunately, it was empty.

Empty!

“I guess the games over then…” Jason slurred, “which is….imma go to bed then…”

Jason stumbled to his feet, slowly and clumsily making his way to the bedroom, and collapsed face first into the pillows.

Dick wasn’t far behind.

Jason flipped to his side with a moan, only to be confronted with Dick shuffling himself into a little spoon position.

“No, Dick!”

“Cuddle me!”

“No! Get back on your…that side.”

“Jason!”

“No.”

“You know you want to.”

“I’ll kick you off.”

“Is it because you have a boner? It doesn’t bother m-UNF!”

Jason had just shoved a pillow in his face to smother him. He held it down with all his might, but Dick’s fist flew out and hit him on the shoulder. He loosened his grip for a moment, but that was all it took for Dick to get free and mount an attack. He gripped the pillow underneath his head and whacked Jason as hard as he could.

Jason pushed his face down with one big hand.

Dick kicked him in the stomach.

Jason grabbed his ankle and started tickling his foot.

Dick screamed in spite of himself and used his other foot to kick Jason in the chest.

Jason grabbed his other ankle and forced them to either side of his body.

Dick grabbed him between his legs and began to squeeze.

Jason threw himself down to crush him under his weight.

Dick squirmed to the side and used Jason’s momentum to flip them over.

“Ha!” He cried in triumph, hands on Jason’s shoulders. From where he was seated, there was no mistaking Jason’s arousal. Dick was impressed. After all those drinks you’d think he-

“AH!” He cried as Jason suddenly forced himself up, dislodging Dick from his crotch. Jason pressed his advantage, crushing Dick beneath him, hands gripping his thighs, chests pressed together, his face inches from Dick’s.

Dick’s eyes were wide, his face was pink, his lips were parted. Jason wanted to devour him.

Dick looked like he was about to speak. Jason could think of no other way to silence him.

He crashed his lips against Dick's.

Then they were kissing and moving aggressively, hands wandering, rolling around on the bed. Jason ground into Dick and Dick let out a moan that he knew would follow him in his dreams. Dick was tugging at his shirt, Jason was fumbling with his own pants, he was so tangled up in Dick he could hardly tell who was who, but he never wanted to be separate again, from now on he always wanted to be this close to Dick.

They were rolling, pushing, squeezing, and Jason’s head was pounding, but he was seeing and touching parts of Dick he’d never imagined, and Dick was touching him too.

They came apart together, and when it was over Jason, pressed closely to Dick, slept better than he had in years.

2.

He woke up as if in a strange dream.

He was naked

Someone was next to him.

That someone was Dick.

His nose was in Dick’s hair.

He arm was clutching Dick’s waist.

Dick was naked too.

Dick. Naked!

And he was still asleep.

Jason shamefully snuck a peek at him.

He was all warm, golden skin.

Angular, perfect face.

Long, slim neck.

Strong, lean back.

Faded scars.

Round, plush ass.

Strong thighs.

Jason could lean in and stay pressed up against him all day long.

Instead he went to make some coffee.

As he prepared the first cup to Dick's liking, he heard a soft shuffle.

Dick was there.

He hadn’t bothered getting dressed.

God bless him.

"Hi."

"Hi."

1.

“You know what this means?”

“What?”

“You cheated.”

“…what?”

“During the game. You said Steph was your favorite Robin,” Dick was grinning at him now, all teeth. Smug as can be, “That wasn’t the truth.”

Jason walked toward him, stopping only when they were inches apart. Smirking triumphantly when Dick had to look up at him.

He wanted to taste that grin.

Dick opened his mouth again, “You-mmmmm”

Jason had finally found a way to shut him up.

They spent the day together.

0.

They’d made it fourteen days. Dick was free to go.

But Jason didn’t want him to, and Dick didn’t offer.

What Jason did want to do was finally get to a grocery store. He had a nice dinner in mind, and needed some ingredients.

“I’m heading out!” He called, but Dick appeared, fully dressed in athletic gear.

“I thought I’d get some fresh air too. Going for a run.”

“See you back here later?”

Dick grinned, “If you’re not too long-“

“Don’t even think about it.”

“-I will wait for you all my life.”

Jason, refusing to dignify that with an answer, made his way out the door.

“Don’t pretend you’re indifferent to me!” Dick called after him.

Jason turned back with a grin, “Even before I met you, I was far from indifferent to you.”

Dick smiled, “Oh, Jason. That was so sweet. Did you just make that up?”

Jason’s grin froze on his face. He stared at Dick. Dick stared blankly back.

“Fucking dumbass!” Jason stomped off, not even trying to keep the amused smile off his face.

“Jason, wait!” Dick laughed, chasing him, “What do you mean? Jason!”

-the end-

[blouisparadise]

There were so many amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Bound (To Falling in Love) | Mature | 958 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #2 on this list. 

Harry and Louis innocently cuddle on the couch until things get heated.

2) Nuh Uh, Honey | Mature | 1170 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #1 on this list.

So this is the ending of Bound (to falling in love) but with more detail. Long story short, Louis and Harry fuck.

3) 100ft Away | Explicit | 2479 words

Harry opens Grindr for a hookup and ends up with more than he bargained for. It all works out in the end.

4) I'm Looking for Closure | Not Rated | 2503 words

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. You can read the previous parts here.

“Say you can read my mind.” Harry said to Louis as he pushed Louis down onto the mattress. Louis squirmed as the covers rubbed against his skin.

“I can’t read your mind.” He said simply to Harry as he reached up to put his hands against Harry’s chest, trailing them down to Harry’s narrow hips.

“My mind is saying that I should just… just fucking go back in time. Go back so I could be your first.” Harry said, leaning down to lick into Louis’ hot mouth.

Or They finally fuck, sorry, I mean, make love.

5) The IT Fic | Mature | 3112 words

A fic where Harry is Pennywise & Louis is Georgie... Louis goes down to the sewers & Harry fucks him with a balloon as a condom.

aka a pwp that i wrote for shits and giggles. & yes, louis is of age

6) Souls | Mature | 3890 words

The first time Harry showed Louis two ghosts.

7) The Unfinished Fic (With an Ending) | Not Rated | 4013 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis greatly regretted all of his life decisions up to this point. Okay fine, maybe not all of them, but definitely a vast majority. After all, if he’d not told one little white lie about loving cricket just to impress a fit guy at the pub, maybe he wouldn’t be stuck at what was, one hundred percent, the most boring “sporting” event of his entire life.

8) Save You Tonight | Mature | 4841 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis is a headstrong Omega in charge of his own life. But he's more than grateful when an Alpha comes along when he needs it the most.

9) Whisk Me Off My Feet | Explicit | 5054 words

When Louis locks himself out of his apartment in just a pair of novelty underwear, he hopes his new neighbor can come to his rescue.

10) Can You Feel the Fever | Explicit | 5113 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Tour has Harry exhausted. Luckily exactly what he needs is waiting for him in his Sacramento dressing room.

11) Gotta Catch 'em All | Not Rated | 5186 words

Louis loves Pokémon GO, he gets a little crazy and ends up ramming into a guy. Harry gets mad, calls him a brat and treats him like one. Oh, and they're in central park.

12) I Just Can't Get Enough Of You | Not Rated | 5466 words

Or the one were Harry got inspired from watching Louis on The Late Late Show.

13) Why Don't We Go There? | Explicit | 5654 words

Louis is a perfect model for Abercrombie & Fitch. Harry is a grungy, tattooed model for Hot Topic. When Louis walks in on Harry changing for his photo shoot, things only grow from there... including their dicks.

14) Act Out | Explicit | 6721 words

Harry and Louis try to spice it up a little for their 10th year marriage anniversary. Cliché role play ensues.

15) Life Imitating Art | Explicit | 6881 words

Note: This fic is the fourth part of a series. You can read the previous parts here.

Louis is taken on a very real journey through his fic back catalogue - life has never imitated art so salaciously.

16) You Can Show Me Your Heart | Explicit | 6935 words

Everyone knows about the unsinkable Titanic, which tragically did just that in April of 1912. However, not many people know the story of the Carpathia - the ship that raced to rescue and aid the survivors of the Titanic when the distress call came through. This is the story of the events leading up to the luxury liner crashing into an iceberg on that fateful spring night. More than that, this is the story of how two of Carpathia’s passengers - Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson - met, fell in love and helped over 700 people in the cold Atlantic water.

17) Kisses and Coffee Breaks | Explicit | 9350 words

Midterm season was finally here and all Harry wanted to do was study, however his boyfriend, Louis, seems to have a better idea.

or the one where Harry just wants to study and Louis needs Harry's cock.

18) Swallow The Knife (Outtake) | Explicit | 11186 words

Note: This is an alternative scene to fic #25 on this fic rec.

Alternate sex scene from Swallow The Knife.

19) We've Been Here Before | Mature | 11536 words

Harry goes to Louis in the wake of his sister Felicite's death, and Louis asks Harry to help him clean up a family cabin he is ready to get rid of. Along the way, they attempt to heal many things, even those that they thought were long past.

20) With Words Unspoken | Explicit | 18341 words

The one where Louis is lost, Harry is an excellent tour guide, and age is no barrier to finding the love of your life.

21) The Aurora Zone | Explicit | 19633 words

The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

22) Be Mine, Dear | Not Rated | 20104 words

The one where Louis just wants to meet his mate, and all it takes is for him to get a new neighbor.

23) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Everyone is 19 and horny, and Louis just really wants to get fucked by Harry.

24) You Are Half Of Me (And I Am All For You) | Explicit | 24731 words

Note: This fic has a mention of BH.

One Direction, an obscure indie rock band, is about to embark on their first cross-country tour, living out of Louis' beloved van named Patricia.

Harry is in love, and Louis is oblivious. Or is he?

Featuring skinny-dipping in Texas waterfalls, getting lost in the desert, stargazing under the New Mexico sky, performing in front of crowds that grow in size each night, and falling in love on the road during the greatest summer of their lives.

25) You Are In My Bed, But Your Heart Isn't | Not Rated | 25595 words

Rock Band AU. Louis is an omega who fucks around, doesn't know the meaning of "feelings" until he starts crawling into Harry's bed at night. Harry gets jealous easily and they all write a lot of songs about each other.

26) Play Me A Memory | Explicit | 26932 words

Louis lives with his nine-year-old son Jake in a peaceful beachside community on the east coast of Australia, working as an entertainment coordinator at the local five-star resort. Harry is a recluse who lives on millionaires row and writes musical scores for blockbuster movies. When the roots of a wayward willow tree create havoc at his home, Harry is forced to stay at the resort while repairs are carried out.

27) Book Worm | Explicit | 37018 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Dad said this is his very favourite place to go,” Leon divulged, much to Louis' embarrassment. 

“Did he?” Harry's olive eyes flicked to Louis, lips quirking in a way that didn’t match his beige cardigan.

“Yeah and he said you have the best books. May I look?” He asked, smiling winningly.

Leon had inherited Louis' blue eyes and his mother's dark hair, his smile quickly becoming a replica of his father's.

“You may,” Harry permitted and Louis set Leon down.

“Don’t destroy anything,” he instructed. “And if you so much as crease a page then bring it to the till because I’m going to have to pay for it...”

Leon raced straight to the back of the shop and threw himself onto the beanbag seat front first.

“I put the Kama Sutra back on the top shelf, by the way,” Harry told him with a dimpled smile. “You left it by the Hungry Caterpillar.”

28) Waiting for the Tides to Meet | Explicit | 59637 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Swallow The Knife | Explicit | 76168 words

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

30) There You Are | Explicit | 82237 words

Note: This fic has a mention of BH.

Harry’s entire life has fallen apart - in one night, his carefully planned future is suddenly uncertain.

Then he meets Louis.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[yfere]

Shipping Calculus! Live Updates from C2E60

Hello, and welcome to episode 60, otherwise known as THE RISE OF YASHA SHIPPING. We’ve been waiting and waiting for it, and here it fucking is!! Masterpost here

+15 to Fjord/Jester as they gain many Flirting Points with cute little “Heys” at each other in combat, profferings of healing potions, that weird slightly in canon liminal area of drink sharing, winking madness, Fjord dedicating the dead jellyfish to Jester like he’s some kinda knight (+3 to Beau/Cockblocking for pointing out the disturbing murder of what was once a romantic Fjorester symbol). Jester asking Fjord if he’s okay and checking him for possession (Bonus points for Body Contact!) Points taken away for Fjord griping about Jester/Pets, saying “It’s not your pet, Jester!” while Jester shouts back that she doesn’t even like it, thank you, she likes animals but she’s not going to go gaga over a murder demon you absolute asshole.

+9 to Caleb/Caduceus as Caduceus continues his trend of enthusiastically supporting Caleb decisions that the rest of the party very much do not enthusiastically support. “Good call!” he says when Caleb goes to burn the bodies in the Bone Pit as an anti-jellyfish precaution. Totally down with Caleb murdering creatures down there as there’s “not anything good that’s living down there” and along with Yasha joining the Pro Caleb NPC Murder Club. Caleb very nearly setting Caduceus on fire as well but avoiding it through the power of luck love, being adorably distressed that Caduceus might have been hurt, relieved when he’s fine.

+6 to Caduceus/Fjord as Caduceus encourages Fjord to “Stick by me, and you’ll be fine.” Looking after Fjord’s welfare by encouraging him to stay in the Hut, and acting as dedicated translator for all of Fjord’s ridiculously curious needs. The pair of them same-hatting on asking every single person they happen to meet if they know of any answers to their god problems. Points taken away for Caduceus’ short term memory failing to recall the second of Fjord’s questions as he gets distracted asking about the Blooming Grove.

+32 to Yasha/Jester. Okay. Okay. So, trying to cooperate over turtle flipping: good. But the real thing. The real thing is. During Yasha’s first dream, Jester is the first body she sees after Mollymauk’s, the first and most important after him of the “somebody you’ve let in.” The only person she’s really willing to speak to after she wakes, despite her discomfort. The first person whose strength she thinks of when trying to break her shackles. The one she listens to, over Caduceus, when it comes to how to approach her god—to just try to talk to him, bring Jester and her friends along. The one she models when she tries to connect to the Stormlord—drawing a dick in the mud because if nothing else works, this has to, this is Jester. Jester being the most sweetly supportive of Yasha after her dream, even while Nott minimizes and Caduceus godsplains. Jester fucking….sleeping in the rain with Nott so that Yasha won’t be alone, enduring ridiculous amounts of discomfort and lost sleep just to be there for her. They are…..love. This is…..the true birth of  Jestasha.

+1 to Beau/Yasha as Beau accomplishes an epic battle move by sliding between Yasha’s legs (just not in the way she was hoping). Looking piningly at Yasha’s sleeping face. But, as has been decreed by the Shipping Gods they are two ships passing in the night, destined never to meet.

-10 to Yasha/Nott. Nott initiates cuddles, but Yasha is uncomfortable.

+17 to Fjord/Caleb as Caleb tries his damned hardest to use his spellwork to protect Fjord—and failing. But it leads to Body Contact nonetheless, and a terribly sweet “sorry, big guy” which only means more with every NPC under the sun (looking at you, Soorna) continuing to poke at Fjord by calling him “small.” More Body Contact with Caleb switching over to Fjord as his chosen squeeze while looking through Frumpkin. As with Jester and the jellyfish, Fjord looking towards Caleb to check if he’s noticing him Being Cool with the three point landing (Do I spy +1 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester?) Fjord as always putting way too much stock in Caleb knowing everything, all “Caleb, think of every blue fabric you’ve ever seen” as he attempts to CSI the riftmaking device. Fjord also as always being Caleb’s #1 Magic Fan, going absolutely NUTS when Caleb polymorphs the giant, ruffling his hair and screaming “YOU BEAUTIFUL WIZARD BASTARD” and probably coming close to fucking breaking the wizards’ concentration in the process. Points taken away as Fjord realizes just how scary the turtle still is and how this horrible snapping thing may still cleave him in half. But at the rate Fjord is escalating the Magic Love, you just know eventually Caleb is going to cast a spell and Fjord is going to get so excited he kisses the wizard.

+5 to Caleb/Being a Trendsetter as comically exaggerated pronunciations of Eldritch bleeeeeeeeehst are now officially the standard for all members of the party.

+10 to Travis/Dice Superstition as he picks new dice after rolling ones, runs dice competitions to decide which is worthy to play with, and Very Superstitiously dreading a 666 of failed wisdom saves from Fjord, Beau, and Caleb.

+10 to Caduceus/Excitement. “There’s something in the pit.” His head lowers and his hands shake when he gets stressed, but bless him his voice is as calming and monotone as ever.

-100 to Fjord/That Spoopy Shit as he spends most of the battle screaming his (average sized, thank you) lungs out

+2 to Caleb/Cat Shaped Creatures at Cat’s Ire was finally allowed to do its killing work!

+20 to Jester/Beau as Jester gives Beau a 7 for the holy hell she causes with her punching! To which Beau gives a funny little bow. But most, most importantly, Jester noticing Beau staying up reading and worrying to death, giving her a massage and Body Contact to calm down and sleep #TheyAreMarried and fuck Travis/Fjord’s Attempted Cockblocking because that was the most transparently and extremely romantic moment in the entire goddamn episode. Points taken away for Jester saying Beau’s drawing looks “kind of shit.” Maybe now that she’s granted permission for Beau to draw dicks she’s concerned Beau will start infringing on her Territory as the resident artist.

-1 to Nott/Detective Work. She did find the riftmaking device, but unfortunately it was circumstance that brought her back to the Bone Pit, and not her Keen Detective Mind remembering at that moment to investigate the area as Soorna’s stated origin of the demons and a trash bin’s status as an Excellent Hiding Place. More points taken away for Destroying Evidence when she shot the device and scattered the liquid inside to be lost forever.+12 to Nott/Gunslinging though.

+1 to Fjord/Detective Work as he continues to bargain and push for important information about the way the world works and what is happening from the people he encounters—gaining Soorna’s story in exchange for their efforts. He didn’t gain information immediately relevant to the Case, but it is good Detective Practice nonetheless

+5 to Beau/Detective Work as she finds the scrap of fabric in the Riftmaking Device—a solid Clue! Genuinely looking for links between the riftmaking device and her own vestments, comparing notes, looking for the black liquid and brainstorming with Caleb over potential motivations for creating Abyssal rifts. Points taken away for misidentifying beds as sarcophagi, which sort of casts a pall over her detectiving skills. 

+20 to Beau/Nerdom for being more interested in explaining books and theorizing to Caleb than actually fighting. It is something when you can stand next to Caleb and make him look like a jock in comparison to your nerdy antics. Never change, Beau.

+6 to Caleb/Lethality as unfortunately he has murder on the brain so much that even when he’s not trying to make things deadly, he still manages to incinerate a poor innocent little goblin, barely skirt blowing up Caduceus, and morph what he meant to be a harmless turtle into a killing machine.

-2 to Caleb/Jester. Caleb is a fan of Jester’s smart idea with the Tiny Hut. But between accusations of criminality and Jester’s extreme distress over Caleb’s Goblin Roasting, ‘twas not the best week for these two.

+2 to Nott/Jester. Beau may have gotten a 7 for battle maneuvers, but Jester gives Nott 8 points!!! Nott cuddling with Jester at night, waking with her to reassure Yasha. There’s the sense Nott went out into the miserable rain maybe a little more to spend time with Jester than anything else.

+12 to Nott/Being a Team Player as she throws herself into harm’s way to defend Fjord from Caleb’s horribly botched polymorph! She is too small to be much defense but damn if she’s not going to try!

-3 to Nott/Fantasy Racism as despite her conflicted feelings over goblins she attempts to respectfully lay Caleb’s murder victim to rest. +10 to Caduceus/Cockblocking for undermining the moment by sticking the whole goddamn corpse in his bag so he can question it in the morning

+5 to Caleb/Kooky Comparisons as he compares farming the Beacon for Luck potions to getting eggs from the golden goose. Caleb thinks almost entirely in terms of fairy tales and farming/peasant idioms, and one of these days someone needs to collect all of the little oddball things he says.

+50 to Kord/Midwifery “STRUGGLE. PUSH. STRUGGLE. PUSH.” Rhythmic, firm, supportive but also tough, which is exactly the kind of midwife you want during your existential rebirth.

[ineffably-good]

I Will Follow You Into The Dark (8/10) (GO Fics)

Go read the whole thing on AO3 - it’s done!

Summary: Crowley storms the gates of Heaven, and makes a bargain of his own.

Crowley emerged into the anteroom of Heaven. Like so much of Above, the anteroom was large, with soaring ceilings and crisp white walls, devoid of personality, and entirely freezing. It was also largely empty, which was a plus. He took a look around to orient himself and strode through the door at the far end into what appeared to be a large, open reception hall.

There were angels milling about here. It was a moment before anyone noticed him, but when they did there were dramatic sounds of consternation and murmurings from all sides. He strode through, ignoring all of them, until he got to the exact center of the room.

One angel gathered his courage and stepped forward to greet him, standing a few feet away from the small flames licking off the demon’s body. He looked both outraged and thoroughly intimidated.

“Can I help you?” he asked officiously.

“GABRIEL,” Crowley bellowed. “I need to speak to Gabriel RIGHT BLOODY NOW.”

The angel took a step back. He turned to look at one of his less brave companions. “Go,” he said. “Fetch Gabriel.”

They continued to stare at each other with icy disdain for the few minutes it took for anything to happen. Finally, he heard the click of Gabriel’s pretentious, shiny loafers coming from the other end of the hall, and he finally got a look at the utter prick.

Gabriel did not look pleased to see him.

“Demon Crowley,” he said with a fake and completely unconvincing smile. “You know you shouldn’t be here.”

“You can’t touch me, Gabriel, and you know it,” Crowley snapped dismissively. “And I’m here for something that is very much in your best interest.”

Gabriel glared at him and said nothing.

“I’d recommend we discuss this somewhere more private,” Crowley said. “You do not want everyone hearing what I have to say.”

“Fine,” Gabriel huffed. “Come with me.”

He turned and strode away without even checking to see if Crowley was behind him. Crowley took a moment to hiss at a few of the lesser angels still milling nearby, then stalked off after him.

++

Gabriel led him to an office, large and flamboyant, exactly what he would have expected from such a prig. There was an extremely ornate desk, elaborate wall hangings, and most amusing, an enormous, gilt-edged mirror that Crowley knew instantly the archangel used to check his outfits and admire himself.

What he did not expect was the presence of the other three archangels. Uriel, Michael, and Sandalphon were all there to greet him. They stepped back and clustered behind the desk as he entered, allowing his flaming self a little extra room.

“Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon,” he said, in greeting. “I’m here to make a deal with you.”

Gabriel stepped behind the desk and sat in his fussy, elaborate chair. “And what would you have to offer us that we could possibly want?” 

Crowley placed the briefcase down on the large flat desk and opened it carefully. Inside was the book. It gleamed most unpleasantly in the light.

“I’d suggest you don’t touch it,” he said. “This book was designed to kill you.”

Uriel and Sandalphon took a step back. Gabriel and Michael leaned in and peered at it. “It feels evil,” Michael affirmed. “But what is it and why are we supposed to believe you?”

Crowley explained it to them as succinctly as he could. How they’d taken it from a wannabe warlock, how he’d used angel and demon blood to power the book, what had happened to Aziraphale as a result.

“So,” Sandalphon said with a sneer, “you need the book destroyed, to save your stupid boyfriend, and you come to us?”

Crowley took a second to imagine all the ways he’d like to injure Sandalphon. He thought he’d start by ripping out each of his ridiculous gold teeth. The archangel must have read something of it on his face, because he folded his arms over his chest and glared defiantly.

“You need this book destroyed as much as I do,” Crowley growled. “This book is a weapon! Did you even know there was a spellbook floating around on earth that contained magic that could kill all of the archangels? Were ANY of you even the slightest bit aware of that?”  

Michael, at least, had the decency to look a little embarrassed by that. “No,” she admitted. “We didn’t.”

“Listen to me,” Crowley said, “and listen well. This is a one-time offer, and it has to be done now. If you wait for the book to kill Aziraphale before you take action, or if you hem and haw and get all bureaucratic and he just ‘accidentally’ dies first, then the deal is off. No book.” He made eye contact with each of them in turn, convincing them of his sincerity. “I will take it, and I will work with my human witch friends to read it, and I will have in my hands a fully operational weapon that could decimate heaven. I will kill each and every one of you motherfuckers who could have saved him and didn’t.”

Even Gabriel paled. “It doesn’t need to come to that, demon –”

Crowley raised his hand to snapping position, a posture they were all intimately familiar with, and sent a quick prayer out to the universe. This was the moment. This the end, or the beginning, of everything.

“I don’t have time to wait for your bullshit,” he said.  He fastened his eyes particularly hard on Sandalphon, who was quietly trying to palm something he had removed from his coat pocket. “Answer now, or the book and I are gone before you can do anything with that vial of holy water I see you sneaking out of your pocket, you gigantic, pustulent, shit-heel.”

“Sandalphon!” Gabriel admonished, sounding a little desperate. “May I remind you that I am in charge here?”

Sandalphon grimaced and laid the bottle on the desk and stepped away from it. Crowley shot a little flare of hellfire at it from his fingertip and everyone behind the desk jumped back as it exploded and disappeared.

“So?” he said. “What’s your answer? You have three seconds. Three --  two –”

“Okay, okay!” Gabriel said. “We’ll do it. The demon is right, this book needs to disappear from existence.”

The archangels conferred briefly, and then by mutual agreement arrayed themselves around the desk, facing the briefcase. They had just raised their hands and begun to concentrate on combining their powers into a joint pool of angelic might when suddenly, a bright blue-gold light filled the room from above.

Everyone froze.

++

“ANGELS. DEMON CROWLEY.” The ineffable and lovely voice of God drifted down from the ceiling.

“Finally!” Gabriel said. “Someone with some sense to intervene in this ridiculous –”

“BE QUIET,” the voice admonished in a motherly tone. “DEMON CROWLEY,” she continued. “I WILL PAUSE THESE ANGELS SO THAT YOU AND I CAN SPEAK IN PEACE.”

Crowley stared, awestruck, as the four archangels simultaneous looked up and then froze in place, each of their faces a rictus of astonishment or, in Gabriel’s case, outrage.

There was a flash of light, and Crowley found himself seated on a park bench, in an overly technicolor recreation of St. James’ Park, with a small, old woman in a grey wool overcoat seated beside him. She had her pure white hair pulled back under a scarf somewhat reminiscient of the Queen of England. She pulled out a small bag of what appeared to be breadcrumbs and scattered them to the oddly enhanced ducks in front of them.

“I – I—” Crowley stammered, absolutely dumbstruck. “You – You’re ---”

The old woman turned and smiled at him with eyes that were as shockingly blue as Aziraphale’s. “My Crowley,” she said kindly. “Yes I am.”

Crowley swallowed hard, feeling so many conflicting urges that he didn’t know where to start. Laugh hysterically? Burst into tears? Beat against her with his fists? He stared into her eyes feeling each of these things make their way across his face, being instantly absorbed and understood and absolved by the creature in front of him, who stared back placidly.

“I heard your prayers,” she said. “I’ve always heard you.”

Crowley couldn’t help it, he felt the anger boil up inside him. “You – You’ve been LISTENING? All this time? You threw me out of heaven for – for NOTHING, for asking questions, I never hurt anyone and it destroyed me and – and you’ve been listening? You – you utter bastard…”

He froze, realizing what he’d just said and to who, and closed his eyes while silently waiting to be destroyed. His last conscious thought was sorrow that he wouldn’t be able to make it back to help Aziraphale.

He felt a tear leaking down his cheek, then another. Traitorous bloody eyes, he thought.

Crowley felt the softest of touches on his cheek, wiping one away. “My dear,” the woman said softly, “I can’t explain to you all of what I’ve used you for, and I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I needed you, where and how you were, all these centuries. You’ve performed so perfectly.”

Crowley opened his eyes, confused beyond all understanding, and just stared into the woman’s eyes. “This was all some kind of BLOODY PLAN?” he gulped out.

She shushed him and leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead. He was surprised it didn’t burn.

“Ineffable,” he said with some degree of bitterness. “Of course.”

“Your love for the angel has moved me deeply,” she said. “You truly love him, do you not?”

He blinked and the anger fell away like sugar melting in the rain.

“Of course I do,” he said, his eyes continuing to leak treacherous tears. “He’s the only person in the universe who has ever loved me. And even if he didn’t, I’d love him just the same. He’s – he’s the best thing you’ve ever created.”

The woman looked at him with a sad smile. “He was one of my better works, I must admit,” she said. “He’s never disappointed me. Not once.”

Crowley smiled a little through his tears. “Can I please remember this so I can tell him that?”

The woman laughed. “You may. He’d like that.”

She sat back and turned to face him more fully.

“I heard your offer, in the shop yesterday,” she said. “I’m here to accept it.”

Crowley’s heart stopped. “You’re --- you’re going to help me?”

“I am,” she said. “You would do anything to save him, would you not?”

“I would.”

“Then let it be so,” she said. “But there’s a price.”

“Done,” he said rashly. “Whatever it is, it’s done. Take it. Take anything. Just save him.”

She looked at him gravely. “That’s not how it works,” she said, impossibly gentle. “You must hear the price and knowingly agree to it, or it cannot be done. You must give your full consent.”

He took a deep, quivering breath. “All right. Tell me your terms.”

“Your witch friend’s law of equivalent exchange is a good framework to think about this through,” she said smiling. “You want Aziraphale’s life returned to him, healthy and whole. You must give something of equivalent value.”

Crowley paled. “Of course,” he said slowly. “You want to kill me.”

“No, of course not you foolish demon,” she said. “To save the angel and kill you would be to relegate him to a hell of his own making. I love you both too much to do any such thing.”

“Then what do you want?” he said, thoroughly lost.

“You must give up your powers,” she said tenderly. “You will still be alive, and you will still be immortal, but your magic will be lost to you forever.”

Oh, Crowley thought. Is that all.

It was truly nothing, he realized, in the larger scope of his love for and his life with Aziraphale. It was a bargain he would have paid a hundred times over.

“You will no longer have any powers to perform miracles, shape shift, or otherwise affect reality,” she continued. “Will you become powerless for your angel?”

“I’ve always been powerless for him,” he said quietly, heart laid bare. “This is no different.”

She smiled at him with great warmth.

“I consent,” Crowley said. “Go ahead.”

A swirl of light surrounded him and it was gentle when it happened; he felt his powers one moment, and the next minute they gently slipped away.

++

A second later he was back in the office, and Gabriel and the others were unfrozen and staring at him in utter shock. He was aware that his protective wreath of flames was gone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be concerned. He would live or he would die – the matter was out of his hands.

“YOU WILL HELP HIM,” the disembodied voice of God says, “GIVE HIM WHAT HE REQUIRES AND ALLOW HIM TO LEAVE UNHARMED.”

The four archangels gaped at the ceiling.

Only Michael found the courage to respond. “Yes, lord,” she said tremulously.

“NONE OF YOU WILL TOUCH THEM. THIS ANGEL AND THIS DEMON ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE. SWEAR TO IT, ALL OF YOU, IN A BINDING OATH.”

They did, looking thoroughly cowed.

The voice instructed them to link their hands and focus on the book; she would empower them to fully destroy it. They complied, and after a moment’s focus, the book burst into flame and burned completely. It disappeared from existence with a pop.

Crowley scanned the desk where it had been sitting and was left with a sense of – absolutely nothing. His shoulders dropped in relief.

“GOODBYE, MY BELOVED DEMON,” the voice said, tenderly. “WE WILL NOT SPEAK AGAIN.”

The light disappeared, and the four archangels turned to look at him in complete disbelief.

“You – you’re –” Gabriel, the smug bastard, did not look smug any longer. He cleared his throat and tried to form a coherent thought. “You’ll be going then, I assume?” he said, straightening his tie in a clear attempt to regain his dignity.

“I will,” Crowley said, fully aware he looked a little stunned himself. “Uh, thank you, I guess, for the help.”

“Don’t come back here,” Gabriel said.  “You can’t just come waltzing up here whenever you want, you know.”

Crowley waved a hand at him dismissively. “Like I’d want to,” he said. He turned and headed for the door, leaving the briefcase on the desk. Let them clean it up.

“Oh,” he said, turning around at the door. “Michael.”

Michael looked up, her gaze more curious than afraid. “Yes?”

“I need one more thing,” the demon said. “And I need you to bring it down for me.”

[longsightmyth]

Chapter-by-Chapter, The Naming, Chapter 2

Hey y’all, my friend @wizardheart83 is doing this with me! Go look!

Wizardheart83

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 of mine is here, and the intro is here.

I think how much of Throne of Glass were covering per chapter of Pellinor varies, but still.

Pellinor

True to his word, Cadvan sends the dogs off with a few words. It confuses the men with the dogs, who still can’t see Cadvan and Maerad. We get some background on bards themselves and the magic they use, and the briefest outline of the story of The Nameless One, who does technically still have a name only it has no power over him and therefore he can’t die. Maerad is skeptical about this whole name-eschewing business and says so, but Cadvan is serious. He goes on to mention The Great Silence, when there was no singing or at least no Singing, and Hulls, which are essentially ringwraiths but more numerous.

Eventually Cadvan gets snippy with her when she asks if she could be a bard (“Didn’t you hear anything I told you?”), but he apologizes and explains that he’s been fighting evil shit for a really long time and is currently holding off whatever’s in the Landrost (the mountain) by sheer force of will, of which he’s running out. They realize Maerad can help, but Maerad is reluctant after the first time they try and it’s pretty scary. He points out that living is a priority, so she tries again and it works better. They make their way slowly out of the valley and eventually into a forest, out of the valley.

Throne of Glass (4%-6-ish%, or pages 17-27 so we can stop at the end of chapter 4)

Prince Dorian offers Celaena the chance to be King’s Champion by winning a competition. She snarks that he should just skip the competition and hire her because she’s the best. Evidence is not provided. She bargains with Dorian despite the offer coming from his never-argued-with father the unnamed King of Adarlan. She bargains the term of service from five years to four. She thinks that she wouldn’t survive another year in Endovier anyway, but if the guards are under orders to keep her alive and didn’t even decide otherwise when she was murdering loads of them and the Eyllwe prisoners are so dead-set on keeping her alive AND she remains to unaffected by her imprisonment, I question the assertion.

Oh also, those Eyllwe people? They are the bulk of the slaves, and they are brown people from the one brown country. None are named.

Celaena decides to act like a middle-schooler wanting five more minutes of sleep when the captain of the guard comes to get her from her now nice room to set out for her freedom. She eventually dresses in a ‘fine riding habit’ that somehow fits her perfectly. She goes out to ait for the prince and is mobbed by friendly dogs that belong to the prince. Dorian can’t believe they’re being so friendly. She must have fed them. She does not respond until he asks if she’s ever going to talk to him, at which point she says “I’m afraid your questions don’t merit a verbal response.”

In fairness, I think I said exactly that once in middle school.

We are treated to more of Celaena’s murderous impulses and complaints about everything. She badgers the captain of the royal guard, Chaol. The chapter ends as they stop for lunch.

THE CONTRAST.

Honestly the first thing that comes to mind is that animals love both protagonists in theory, but Maerad, who has seen dogs chase down and tear apart runaway slaves, is terrified of them. Celaena apparently likes them, though we know nothing about the dogs she spends a significant amount of time with except that they exist and adore her. It’s part and parcel of the book, really. The vast majority of people adore Celaena, she talks about caring for them so much, they don’t get names or are referred to by epithets. Same old, same old. Celaena’s journey, though she’s chained, involves good food and horses and being ineptly flirted with. Maerad’s involves a grouchy dude who has enough travel rations and constant walking. This is not actually a reflection on the characters, but it is interesting from a writing perspective to note how much of Celaena’s suffering is treated as so much window dressing while Maerad is still struggling. We also see a demonstration even this early on of Maerad’s power, untrained though it is, and her strength of mind, which is very trained: she basically tells a (morally grey) mountain to fuck off, thanks.

Maerad is shown being wary of Cadvan for many good reasons, but in large part because he is an Adult Male, when in her life (aside from her minstrel teacher) men have been shown to be bad news for women even if she as mostly protected by Gilman’s supersticion. Out here there is no superstitious owner to keep her mostly safe: there is only this new man who she has never met and tells her he (and probably Maerad herself) can do magic.

Celaena is not wary at all of anyone, despite telling us at some point (I think it’s later in the books though?) that she was deeply disturbed and forever changed by the rape and murder of an Eyllwe woman who helped her her first night. We never learnt eh woman’s name. She is only ever mentioned again when Celaena says she made sure to murder the guards who did it later, when she’s on a murder spree already.

Celaena, like Maerad, is also protected in her slavery by an authority: the king wanted her to suffer a long time. Since we never ‘see’ her dealing with the mines it is difficult to conceptualize what she did suffer, especially since her personality remains utterly unchanged from The Assassin’s Blade collection of short stories.

This is turning into a treatise on why I don’t like Celaena or how her books handle her. I’m trying, okay?

In short, Maerad’s freedom feels earned and unsimplified. Celaena’s is, as usual, handed to her on a platter complete with hot dudes and snark.

This chapter of The Naming contained 12 pages, 1 fragment, 5 em-dashes, and 4 ellipses.

The equivalent percentage of Throne of Glass contained 10 pages, 17 fragments, 16 em-dashes, and 10 ellipses.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

2017 Re-Watch: 7x10 - New Best Friends

Good morning and welcome to the 7x10 Re-Watch. Re-watching New Best Friends, I actually noticed quite a few things I hadn't noticed before. Most of that is because we know more after the season than we did at the beginning.

In the opening sequence, we have a lot of interesting symbols. We have Diane, the archer. I discussed the symbolism around her HERE. I was struck this time by how much emphasis they put on the line about her sister. She says her sister used to have a dress like the one walker wears. Then it's reiterated again at the end of the scene. It doesn't affect the plot at all, so it's kind of random. Which tells me it's symbolic. Also, the walker is very Beth-ish and there are a lot of symbols in this exchange that are very TD-ish so I think that is purposeful.

Jared has a line about things working like "clockwork," so a time reference. Probably the biggest thing I noticed in this sequence is that, to get the supplies for the saviors, Jerry opens a blue, hatchback car. Not only did that remind me of Beth in the trunk, but if you look inside, the containers the supplies are in are black and have enormous Xs on them. (X Theory)

We see watermelons, which is different than the melons in Bury Me Here a few episodes later. (I think those ones are honeydew melons.) Still, both episodes have melons and the ones in Bury Me Here definitely have some Beth symbolism to them.

Gavin also says, "8, 9, 10." Obviously, the 8 strikes me as S8. We have seen a few 9s--not many--around Beth and quite a few 10s. I feel like this new arc that they're starting in S8 will stretch to S10.

We also see two different people--both Morgan and Father Gabriel--wearing white shirts in this episode. They go through some changes here so that's pretty in-line with the White Shirt Theory.

Daryl also gets a new crossbow in this episode. It's the third one he's used throughout the series and that feels significant. We've all felt that he would get his crossbow back eventually from Dwight, and maybe he will, but it could also be that he'll just have this one now and that may be significant to, especially as its weapon. Beth = TF's weapon, we think and Beth = rule of 3s. Now Daryl has acquired his third bow. Just saying.

Then there's the sequence where Daryl and Richard plan to ambush the saviors on the road. I talked extensively HERE about the sheriff-type painting on the side of the truck. And how I think that's indicative of the new sheriff that's coming to fight saviors. Looking at the overall sequence, I was even more struck by what we see here.

First of all, as they're walking toward the truck, there's a sign with an arrow that says cemetery. (Think Beth and Daryl in the cemetery in Alone, as if saying the cemetery theme is that way.) 

Then we also see a red car off to one side of the truck (Red Car Parallels) and on the other side of the trailer is a mail truck (Communication Theme). All of which are symbols we've seen a lot. (The stagecoach in the western mural could also indicate the Communication theme, as that's how mail was transported in the Old West.)

During Richard and Daryl's argument Richard says of Carol. "She's tough. Maybe she'll live." Now I get that he's talking about Carol, but the only character that's ever been described as tough, especially by Daryl is Beth. So this is all symbolic. Also we have the whole thing where Daryl's yelling at Richard, "Say her damn name!" That's very symbolic of the fact that nobody has said Beth's name since episode 5x10.

There's a strong foreshadow of Richard's death here. He says, "I'd die for the kingdom."  Daryl replies, "Then why don't you?" And again, it's only important because life and death foreshadows are definitely a thing so if Beth said, "I made it. I am strong. I'm getting out," that will happen.

Meanwhile, Rick tries to convince Jadis and the Scavengers to join them against Negan. So we have the whole sequence where Rick fights Winslow. The camera focuses on a rooster and the cat Rick takes for Michonne. The rooster is a biblical symbol and we see the sun coming up behind it. Cats represent resurrection, btw.

At one point, Jadis says, "We own your lives. You want to buy them back?" It struck me as being a very Grady or Negan-like thing to say. It's about what you owe in a points system. Another parallel to Grady and Negan. 

Rick says, "It's okay." One of the "it's okay/it's not okay" theme. The thing is, when Rick says it's okay, it really is. He survives and gets Jadis to agree to the deal. Notice when Beth said it's not okay, it really wasn't. This is a dialogue foreshadowing they use a lot.

Jadis had some other dialogue I found suspicious too. She talked about how the Scavengers have been there from the very beginning. All together. Then she said, "Time's passed, things are changing again." She doesn't explain what she means by that. How are things changing for her now? Between that and who Winslow actually (another thing she refused to answer) there's a lot of mystery surrounding this whole sequence.

I'm thinking this will come up again in S9. Rick also asks what she planned to do with Gabriel. She didn't answer, but I'm sure it has something to do with her collecting people. (She asked Negan for 12 people at the end of 7x16.) Obviously we'll have to learn what that's about eventually.

When Rick climbs up the trash pile after defeating Winslow, you can see a map under his hand, which is kind of interesting. Meanwhile, he sustains a Christlike injury when his hand gets impaled by one of Winslow's spikes. 

And his watch says 3:00. That would technically indicate S3 and we've never been able to figure out exactly what that means, but I'm wondering now if it's just another rule of 3s thing. If it indicates that 3 seasons later, the Christ figure will appear, and the map represents, you know, everything to do with Beth (greenroute, route to DC, the map Cindy looks at in 7x06) it all feels very symbolic to me. And of course 3 seasons from when she disappeared would be S8.

We also have more of the "Say yes" theme in this episode. Two episodes later, that will be the title, so it's obviously an important theme. I honestly think, based on what we've seen, that it represents one of the characters agreeing to something, but they don't follow through or don't get exactly what they bargained for.

With Eugene and Rosita, she said he agreed to make her a bullet and he agreed that he'd said yes, but upon second thought, he decided maybe it wasn't worth it. With Rick and Janice, she agreed to help them fight but ends up reneging on it, as Eugene did. When Rick says yes to the deal, he doesn't get what he bargained for because Jadis ends up switching sides. I think you could also argue that with Michonne and Rick. They more or less say they're both in it for the long haul (symbolic marriage) but when Rick almost dies, they realize that if one of them dies soon, the other will have to keep going, and that's not entirely what they signed up for.

We have Daryl and Carol's mother/son theme. I won't go into that too much bc I've already analyzed it to death. Check it out HERE. Carol's piggyback book is super-important. Still not entirely sure what symbolism they're going for though.

Certain shippers will say that because we saw the piggyback and then Daryl at the door, it means romance. But remember the person he actually gave the piggyback to was Beth. They're the only two we've ever seen do a piggyback like that. I mean, for heaven’s sake, C@rol is reading a damn romance novel with a piggyback happening on the cover! It doesn’t get much clearer than that for callbacks. Even if they're saying that this means romance between Daryl and Carol, that's as good as admitting there was romance between Daryl and Beth.

I actually think it's more likely that one of two things is going on here:

1) It shows Beth is coming back soon and this is Daryl and Carol saying goodbye so that they can both have separate love interests.

2) Or, the piggyback may be to symbolize Carol's relationship with Ezekiel. He came to the door right before she picked up the piggyback book. Kind of funny that tptb put the piggyback book in between Daryl and Ezekiel's visits, making it less-than-clear. I think they're being sneaky.

(More Details on the romance novel HERE.)

I talked about the symbolism of Father Gabriel and how he's a proxy for Beth HERE.

Later on, Daryl lies to Carol about Abraham and Glenn's deaths. And let's face it, no long-term relationship was ever built on lies.

It even occurred to me that Daryl eats the stew with a spoon. Now, I'm sure Carol did too. Everyone eats stew with a spoon. But in the scene, we ONLY see Daryl eating with the spoon. Symbolically, that's kind of interesting, especially if the spoon represents Beth.

After he and Carol hug and say goodbye, he walks under a lattice that looks like a whole bunch of Xs. Just saying.

Then there's Daryl and Shiva near the end of the episode. (Awww.) Two major things to point out in the scene:

1) Daryl says to Morgan, "What you're holding onto is already gone." That's sad. It shows that Daryl's in a very dark place. I think a lot of people have the misconception that now that he's out of the Sanctuary and that he and Maggie kind of made up, he's in a really good, positive place now. And he does leave the Kingdom to go fight, and gears up for war with Rick. It SEEMS like he's being very forward thinking. Where the war is concerned, maybe he is, but he could practically be saying this about Beth. "What you're holding onto is already gone." He sees the things he did to try to honor her, such as reaching out to Dwight and Sherry, as foolish. What he was holding onto was already gone, and he sees it as naïve that he tried to find good people. He said as much in 6x10 when he told Rick that maybe Rick had been right all along and they shouldn't look for people. So, despite what it looks like on the surface, this shows Daryl is in a very dark place as S7 closes.

2) Daryl also tells Morgan, "You don't know should about me." That was Noah's line rather than Beth's, but he said it at Grady. Yet another parallel between Beth and Daryl's imprisonment arcs.

I think that's all I have for this episode. Any other thoughts?

[emberfaye]

Touch The Dark Reread Ch.6-10

I’m going to put this under a read more because it gets so long.

Ch. 6

Cassie has none of her Pythia powers (That anyone knows about) currently yet she just waltzes out of MAGIC like it’s nothing. How tf do people keep underestimating her?

“The Senate, who won’t underestimate you again” HAHAHAHAHAHA yeah, sure Jan

So how old is Cassie? She ran the first time at 14, went back at 17, and then stayed until 20. I know she’s not more than 25, but I can’t remember how long she’s been gone this time. I want to say she’s 22?

I’m super curious what experiences Billy Joe has had with the dark fey

Her hand gets stuck in midair so her first instinct is to kick Cassie dear I can relate so hard

I love this pixie! (Radelle? I know we learn more next book)

Mental note: CAssie knows Italian. Makes sense.

Ch. 7

The descriptions of the were rat/satyr Jimmy is just shudder inducing

I forgot she possessed Tomas haha take that dummy

Everytime I read a description of “crazy warmage Pritkin” I think of that gif from Lilo and Stitch where stitch just landed and is cackling

“Bargaining for my life with a lisp” I love KC’s humor

I still would love to learn more about Etienne and Francoise.

Ch. 8

Cassie reinforced Pritkin’s shields. You go girl

“Pritkin might be hostile...damn good guy to have a in fight”. I’m so amused because it takes a whole paragraph to describe what he’s doing, and then Tomas is “Tomas was doing okay, too.” He gets a few sentences and then Louis-Cesare gets the rest of the paragraph.

Seriously how did I not realize Pritkin was going to be such an important character (regardless of shipping, he really is). 

I forgot that Louis-Cesare was all “you’re delusion” and dismissive of Cassie, I knew I had a bad flavor in my mouth because of him in this book. (my notes were not as eloquent as this paragraph I cussed in caps)

I wonder if Cassie reminded him of Christine?

OH SHIT SHE POSSESSED JONATHAN

Karen Chance is so amazing at tying her worlds together

Ch. 9

Oh man Pritkin pissed me off so bad during this meeting. I know his backstory really explains why, but urgh it just...not flattering.

“LC was apparently a single minded guy” This just made me laugh he really is.

REgarding the feeding on satyrs as punishment: “The scene bothered me...I finally decided that my brain was objecting to the sigh of [Tomas’] fangs”. Cassie was raised in vamp culture, but she’s been slowly distancing herself from it, and already since being on the run again, reevaluating her moral compass and the like, even if she’s too much of a pragmatist and has too many issues to realize it.

This chapter is so good at establishing the different worlds and Cassie’s POV about them. By a standard baseline, what the vampires are doing is straight up abuse. If a human was doing that to another human as punishment with consent (not going to touch on BDSM culture), it would be reprehensible. But Cassie doesn’t even notice or question it until Pritkin’s reacts. And then she is forced to explain it to him, to justify it, and you can see her keep reverting back to her upbringing without even putting her own thoughts on it, which, as a pragmatist, she sees the value in to a degree. And pritkin is made out to be overreacting, whereas Cassie just detaches and ignores.

“The devil you know” is really appropriate in Cassie’s “trust” in Mircea and the vamps.

Stupid Tomas and his jealousy. I’m glad that Mircea at least apologized for baiting him.

Louis-Cesare may be the one with outdated mannerisms but Tomas is literally a fedora away from “m’lady”+nice boys finish last start pack

This feeding scene must have been so hard for Pritkin with all his hangups and demons. (pun intended hahaha I’ll shush now)

Ch. 10

It just occurred to me that Mircea and Cassie both use their style as a way to have control over something. But in Cassie’s case it’s about keeping some form of her personality, whereas Mircea use his style as another way to present his arguments

LC just needed a hug during this chapter but he’ll have to wait until the dory books

“Demon whore!” Okay Pritkin you need a time out and a mouth of soap stfu thank god for character development

“It dawned on me the only person not trying to deceive me tried to kill me” poor cassie honesty is rough ain’t it?

[pandabearlikes]

My Husband, Kim JunMeow

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter o1. Kim JunMeow

I hate cats.  Cats are atrocious, selfish little monsters who leave your costly business attire looking like you slaughtered a bear and your airways choking of fur balls.  

"What do they even do?  Eat, sleep, poop.  Repeat."

“Luxury life, you jelly?” my cat lover friend, Lila, clicks her pen against my temple and jeers.

“Pftt.  Of their smelly butts?  Why would I be?” I roll my eyes and collected my Chemistry textbooks from the library table.

“You’re just hating.  Cats are the cutest most cuddly creatures in this world,” she exaggerates with clasp hands against her cheeks and eyes that almost bulge out in animated hearts.

I shiver just thinking about all the entrapped saliva nestled in their fur.  My friend scoffs and begins to pack her bags as well.  It is the last semester of college and the last thing I want is to go to class but the last thing I could afford is to not go to class.  

“The world out there is your cat!” the dork leaps onto her feet and exclaims.

I smack my textbook shut in her face and amusingly correct, “You mean oyster??”  She grimaces from the intrusive breeze and pouts.  “'The world is your oyster’, it means we are all in the position to take opportunities life has to offer.”

The cherubic faced female raises her brow.

“…Because you can’t get the pearl without grinding and prying open the shell.  Some people settle for comfort and pick tiny, easy to open ones and end up with a dull rock.  Others choose to take the road less travelled, pick the biggest oyster, hammer, tear, and groove it until the mollusk reveals the flawlessly shiny one-of-a-kind pearl,” I recite with so much genuine poetic passion that I almost think I’m auditioning for a Shakespearean play.  I’d like to think Shakespeare would be proud of me.  

“No.  I did mean, ‘The world out there is your cat.’  Cats are priceless.  Pearls are not,” Lila counters.

I smack my face with my palm.  “I seriously hate cats,” I grunt under my breath.

“Well, don’t tell me I didn’t tell you, you’re gonna marry a cat one daaaay~” she singsongs.

“No, thank you, you crazy cat lady~” I play along and sing back as I skip my way through the library exit and wave goodbye to my dear friend.  

Books snuggled tightly against my chest, I slug my way to the lab to make up my Chemistry report. I had flunked it twice and it is my last chance if I didn’t want to spend my entire summer back here.

“Meow,” I hear a short purr from the bushes and skid to a stop.  “Meow~” the creature calls out to me.  Only its large circular eyes are visible from behind the shadows.  With a sharp inhale and wide-eyed with realization that said-smelly fur ball monster is right in front of me, I snap my neck to the other side and speed walk away.  

“Meow >:(,” the abandoned cat grunts and scampers back into the alley.  

~

“Ahh, I think I failed again,” I groan and blow concentrated air up at my now messy bangs.  Oh, woe, little miss damsel in distress who can’t seem to get the right amount of sulfite into the beaker or set the thermometer to beep at boiling point.

“What am I going to do with my life?” I dramatize and deflate.  “Should I start bribing the TA?” I mumble under my breath and anxiously bite my nails as I eye myself head to toe at the glass reflection of the campus building.  Hair disheveled and unwashed for three days, dark bags under my eyes, and jeans only God knows how long I haven’t washed for.  Life of a college science student~  What life.  WHAT LIFE?!?!  Even a rich geezer would steer far away, much more the young, handsome, and intelligent TA, Kim Jongdae.  Puffs of happy stars and fluttering butterfly hearts twirl in front of me at the thought of my crush's kitten smile.  

“He likes cats, you know that right?” Lila’s knowing advice replays in my mind and my shoulders slump.  

“No, not even for him, I wouldn’t—“ I start but my voice trails in projection at the sight of the twin glowing eyes reflected on the window.  Slowly, I turn around to come face to face with a white cat.  His luscious fur almost illuminates like holographic magic in the dead of the night.  

“GAHHH!” I shrill and run to hide behind a street lamp post.  

The feline’s marble-like eyes follow me with a striking intensity.  And from the bluish onyx hue, I instantly recognize it to be the same cat from before.  He approaches me, one paw at a time as I cower farther and farther behind my makeshift barricade, that really didn’t protect me much at all.  It’s a good placebo though.

“Wait, placebos are used in the context of medication, you Pabo,” I grumble to myself.  Ah, distress, pure distress of a science major who was too much of a chicken to spend eight years in Med school yet whose brain is wired in a way of a medical dictionary.  Oh woe, me.

“Meow!” the cat’s snappish call wakes me up from my own pessimistic thoughts.  

“Do-don’t get near me!” I order but the cat continues to advance, stopping right in front of me.  His fluffy paw lifts and he places it on the tip of my foot.  I hold my breath and almost lose my breath from anxiety.  Alright, alright.  I admit it, I have Ailurophobia a.k.a the irrational fear of cats.  It’s not that I hate them I just...  

“G-go…” I stutter.  The beautiful feline tilts his head and gazes up at me with a glint in his twinkling eyes.  “D-don’t make me kick you…” I make a false threat and wobble my foot that he had his palm placed on, hoping he would just let go.  

Instead, he places his other paw down too.  “Meow~”

“Stop,” I strictly say.  

“Meow :(“ his purr betrays his hurt.  Innocently, the kitty snuggles his entire body closer and settles down by using both of my feet as his cushion.  He looks up with puppy eyes…only, well…puppy eyes on a cat…yah…you know what I mean…I digress…He looks up with puppy eyes as if waiting for me to reject him but hoping I wouldn’t.

“Stop.  Don’t give me that look,” I frown, “I’m not taking you home.”  

Without letting him reply, I slide my feet backward to freedom.  The cat plops back down onto the concrete floor.  Frowning, I pull the straps of my backpack and start to walk home.  It is already past 11pm, which meant lingering any longer would be dangerous.

I take a step forward.  

“Meow~” the kitty whines, trailing my steps.  He swirls and twirls his way between my two feet and looks up with pure anticipation.  Again, I try to detach myself from this fur ball monster wearing a cute angelic face as a disguise.  He latches on with both paws around my right ankle.  I groan.

“Look kitty…there’s a bunch of cat lovers around here,” I explain with exasperation.  Pointing straight down the street, I persuade, “If you continue down this road and make two lefts and see a peach brick house, stop and meow loudly, a crazy cat lady will take you in.”

“Meow :(“ he grunts and lowers his head.  He licks his front paws and then looks up at me again.  

“Her name is Lila and she’s a little weird but she’s very caring and would adore you…” I elaborate.  “So go on your way…” I shoo and start to walk again.  Again, he follows.  I skid to a stop and try to persuade him again.  This happens for another half an hour before I give up and just head home pretending there isn’t a clingy feline tailing me.  

In front of my house, I try to distract the cat as best as possible so I could unlock the door, slip in, and slam it before he could follow me in but he holds onto my legs and begs in meows.  It is a bit chilly tonight and soft drizzles only showed potential to turn into a heavy rain storm.  Momentary hesitation equals an opportunity for the fluff ball.  He squeezes through the door gap and dashes into my apartment.  Groaning, I toss my head back in resignation.  

“It really isn’t the time for this…” I heave and head in as well.  Too tired from the day of studying and testing and failing and trying to get rid of a cat, I end up just plopping down onto the sofa.  Arms outstretched wide and head thrown back, I think about surrendering and being a cry baby for one day.  You know, the possibility of not graduating in time is quite daunting even if it does sound like #firstworldproblems.  On the other hand, unlike me, this cat curiously wanders around and makes himself at home.  

“Well, I’m tired, Kitty.  I’m calling it a night.  You be good and I’ll drop you off at the animal shelter tomorrow morning, okay?” I bargain.  

Lethargically, I drag myself to my room and toss my dead weight against the bed.  Soft whimpers fleet from my lips.  I snuggle my way into my blanket cocoon.  Flying sheep are seconds from sending me to sweet slumber when I feel a furry paw against my nose.  My eyes shot open.

“No. Stay on floor,” I discipline, lift the bad boy up, and put him onto the ground.  I roll back into my comfy bed…only seconds later, I feel a soft tug against my blanket.  My lips part and I gather up the last of my patience to scold the little monster, when I notice its choppy tugs.  He had grabbed onto the corner of my blanket with his teeth and was slowly pulling it to cover my shoulders.  My expressions soften without my permission.  When he finally deems it a good job tucking me in, the amicable creature leaps back down to the floor and tries to build his own warm bed by curling his tail around his body.  So innocent and vulnerable.  A tinge of guilt penetrates through my heart.  

“You want a blankie?” I question, my voice a little gentler than before.  

The cat surprises me by shaking his head, as if fully comprehending my question.  Chewing on my inner cheek, I spring up, grab a cushion from my chair, and place it on the floor next to him.

“You can use it as a bed.”

Again, he shakes his head.  I frown.

“The floor’s extra cold tonight because of the rain outside…” I observe but the feline tilts his head and doesn’t make the move to accept my offer.

Sighing, I inquire, “You want a towel or a soft t-shirt or a plushie to snuggle with?” I look around my room for some cat-friendly items.  That's when I squint and notice the leather band around his neck.  "Oh, hey…you have a collar.  Are you not a stray?” I kneel down and observe the pendant.  Sadly, the age and rust of the metal tampers much of the information’s legibility.  

Kim Su---

Instead of answering my question, he wraps his paws around my arm, tugs me closer, and tries to nestle on my lap.  I toss my head back and groan at this troublesome cat.  “I should just toss you out,” I grumble under my breath.

As if understanding my words, the cat instantly lets go of my arm.  His eyes glosses over and he melts against the floor as if sulking.  

“I was only joking!” I quickly back track.  "It is pouring cats and dogs outside, I’m not that heartless…” I reassure and somehow instinctively outstretch my palm to pet him on the head.  He likes it very much, much more than I had imagined.  With a long sigh, I scan my bed.  “You want to climb on the bed?”

The corners of his lips curl up and he jumps up and down with joy.  Chuckling, I surrender and hop onto the bed.  He follows suit.

“Stay at the foot of the bed,” I half-heartedly instruct with a yawn.  The white fluff obediently stays at the spot for about two minutes, before he sneaks his way toward my shoulder.  “I said, ‘Foot…of…the…bed…’” my voice slurs due to my sleepiness.  Dozing in and out, I recall him nestling comfortably at the croak of my neck.  Automatically, my body cuddles around the warm guest, who lays the final magical touch to my sweet dreams.

~

My tongue smacks against the top of my mouth palate as I half-consciously try to moistens the dryness.  Whimpering, I roll around in my sheets, hoping to stretch out my sore muscles before the alarm clock shrills anxiety back into my life.  One more satisfying stretch and I open my eyes to a good morning—

“AHHH!” I shriek at the sight of a stranger sleeping beside me.  Automatically, my body chooses flight over fight; I back away so hastily, my body crashes from the bed onto the floor.  The chaotic noise awakens the man.  

Long lashes flutter open.  His movements are fluid and graceful as he rolls out his shoulders and sits himself upright on my bed.  He stares at my astonished state with the tilt of his head and several innocent blinks.  Heaving air back into my frightened lungs, I reflexively lift the blanket from my body and look down.  Just a thin cami and PJ pants, not naked.  Not naked.  Whew.

“So nothing happe—“

The young man stands up, letting his blanket fall fluidly down his broad chest, chiseled abs, and…

My eyes widen and lips drop agape.  Heart pound against my chest.  Front row seats to Magic Mike would be an understatement.  The foreign male stands there, completely oblivious to my bewilderment.  He starts to advance toward me, inch by inch.  I almost choke myself to death by swallowing the lump in my throat.  

“Wh-wuh…who…who are you?!” I panic, scoot myself backward, and recoil against the wall.  He stops a foot from me with his exposed manly goods literally, right in front of my face.  My eyes bulge.  I swallow again, my head starts to spin.  Mouth opens wide - out of shock, I SWEAR out of shock, you dirty minded readers.    

Just then, I hear keys jiggle outside from the front door.  My name rings from the familiar voice of my mother.  Gasping, I turn to the man, who turns back to me with a blank stare.  Maniac panic ensues.  Footsteps click against my wooden living room floor.  Jerking up to my feet, I grab onto the man’s wrist, yank him, and throw him on the bed.  The sheets are tossed on top of him.

“Hey, Sweetie—“ my mother pushes open the door of my room and greets but immediately could smell the fishie fishiness.  

Nervously, I try to cover up my scandalous act and the very visible random lump on my mattress by literally sitting on top of it and pretending it’s all cushion.  Immediately, I regret such decision as I had so coincidentally place my bum right on his manhood.  It throbs through the sheets against my left back thigh and I have to bite my lower lip to keep calm.  

“Hi, Mum…heh…” I nervously ruffle my hair.

“Why do you look so guilty?” she narrows her eyes.  

“Oh-oh…N-no..not at all.”  Needless to say, I fail at my pursuit of a Degree in Deception.  My hiccup attack, thereafter, doesn’t help much either.  “Ju-just…hic-  Just sur hic- prised you came to vi hic- sit without notice…heh…”  No slick, what so ever.  

Nothing I do passes my mother’s eyes.  The sharp and observant female charges into the room, shoves me aside, and throws the cover away.  I shriek; my arms outstretch out of reflex.  Thankfully, the handsome sexy…no…focus…man gripped onto the covers before she exposed his lower region.

My full name bellows from my mother’s lips and I’m clawing my hair coming up with an excuse to cover up my possible one-night stand and not get ass-whipped by the conservative Catholic woman.  Growing up, I was taught that sex before marriage was not allowed.  

“Who is he?!” the furious woman interrogates as she takes note of how scantily clad I am too.  She sniffs the room as if trying to gather evidence of the shameful act.  Automatically, my hands lift up in a pose of surrender, though I had no intention to actually admit to her suspicions.  The gorgeous man across from me gazes in my direction with an innocent stare and a sweet, honeyed smile that contradicts his sexy Devil’s bodayyy.  I spend a moment too long ogling over his features that my mother snaps at me again.    

“I-uh…I…” Beads of tears start to coat my lashes.  

“You have some explaining to do, Young Lady.  I’m calling your father!” the middle-aged woman warns and starts punching numbers on her phone.

“No-no…MUM…” I choke.  Squeezing my eyes shut, my lips automatically move on their free will, “He’s my husband!”  

The phone drops from my mother’s hand.  Internationally, I face palm.  Really?!  That was the worse possible damage control ever.  The attractive man blinks.  He gifts me another sweet smile when he catches my gaze.  Immediately, I look away because I tell myself I can’t be entranced or horny right now with my outraged tiger mom in front of me.    

With the twitch of her brows, the older female laces my name with full warning and seethes through her teeth, “We need to talk.”  I swear my butt crack began to perspire.  

Gulping hard with panic, I glance at the mysterious man as if begging for help, only not really expecting it.  You know, like, what could he really do?  I didn’t even know where he came from for God’s sake.  Was I drunk?  Is this a dream?  I didn’t like the latter thought because I’ve been so dry and thirsty that the wetness of my panties causes ecstasy in my boring life and the thought that I had to possible wake up from it is quite unfortunate.  Priorities, much?  It’s only worth it if I don’t first get strangled by my own mother.  At my stagnancy, the older woman scans my pretend husband and scoffs at the black collar-like choker around his neck.  

I squint.  Wait…I’ve seen that…somewhere—

It’s the third time my full name rips from her throat and I know I’m in the deepest trouble I’ll ever be in.  Wiping my clammy hands against my pants, I turn to my mother and begin to push her out the door.  Blundering words escape my lips, “I’m sorry mom, I’ll explain.  I’ll call you later!  I swear!”  

“You got married?!” she shrills in disbelief.  

“Yes.  I mean No.  I mean…Yes…”  What has gotten into me?  I must be out of my damn mind or otherwise possessed.  Closing my eyes shut, I continue to direct her toward the door.

“You got married and did not tell your father or me?!” the woman scolds and then heaves, “How long have you even known that man?!  Do you know his character?!  What if he’s a stripper?  What is his name?!  I’m going to have your father investigate him!”

“Uh-I…I’ll tell you later.  Mum, can you leave first?” I nervously plea.

“Give me a name or I’m not leaving!” the female adamantly states.

Ah, stress.  STRESS.  Just as I am brainstorming a list of fake names to use, the strange male walks out with a blanket tied around his hip, and answers, “My name is Kim JunMeow.”  

A/N: Yo! I’m back (≚ᄌ≚) Did you guys miss me?  Did you enjoy the first chapter of the new series?  This is probably the only “slower” paced chapter because I had to introduce the situation but chapters here on after are fast-paced and eventful ;);) Also, do you guys like my sassy tone more or my more artistic/poetic writing?  Do share your opinions!

P.S. For the record, cats are my favorite animals in this entire world, surpassing even pandas + bunnies, and you guys know I love the latter two.  

Follow, like, comment, spam my inbox to motivate me.  Daily updates; see you tmr.

>>My Husband, Kim JunMeow Archive<<

>>Story Master Archive<<

Any guesses on what happened in this chapter??

[inkundu1]

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

I am a Filipina American and came to the United States when I was seven years old. Since then, I've tried to assimilate into white American culture, forgotten how to speak my native language of Tagalog, and haven't learned anything about my history.

I didn't grow up around other Filipinos, but even if I did, they probably would have also been trying to “fit in” to this mold: lose the accent; don't eat white rice and chicken adobo during school lunch. We were only taught the sunny side of white American history. World history, diverse stories, and indigenous voices were practically nonexistent in the schools I attended.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

The loss hit me not too long ago-right after I visited the Philippines for the first time since I was 7 years old. There was a world I left behind 28 years ago that I didn't even know I missed. Suddenly, I had grief to overcome. I had to go back and forth through its stages, whether I was prepared or not.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

I denied that missing out on Filipinx literature was a problem. After all, I've already listed hundred of “read” books on Goodreads. And I read so many diverse books. I was in junior high when I first found Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in the very back corner of the public library, tucked away on a featured shelf for Black History Month. And since that day, I've been hooked on Black literature. Alice Walker, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison-but mind you, none of these were assigned school readings. I've always actively searched for diverse books on my own-yet I had no interest in looking for books written by Filipinos. And I thought that was okay.

Then I became angry.

I thought back to my childhood. Why didn't any of my teachers share any books by Black authors? Why didn't my classmates and I learn even a tidbit of information about the Philippines from our teachers? Why did my parents move us here? Why don't white people value diverse voices enough to include us? When I discussed these feelings with a white colleague, he actually said, “Well that's because there are hardly any of you in the U.S. Most of us are white, so of course most of our books are going to be by whites.” I wanted to yell. “Majority white so everyone gets white?!” How could he dismiss us entirely? There are literally millions of us. I was so livid, but I honestly couldn't put the words together. All I wanted was for him to see the value in diverse authors, but I was too mad to communicate it to him.

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It's the last #filipinofridaysarelit , for which I've reserved a post about two Filipina authors I adored as a young reader. . . . . When my mother and I were living in a van, and when my family was cleaning houses on Long Island, and we had nothing, I had Jessica Hagedorn's books. Her novels were the first that I read that had characters who experienced transcontinental life like I did. Her books show social stratification based on social circles that my family bounced in and out of, and immigrant life as lived and understood by a young girl. When Trevor Noah was asked how he decided on becoming a comedian, he said that his father made a joke in the middle of a protest once, a joke that made everyone, including the opposition, laugh. He thought, “I want to do that when I grow up.” I had the same experience reading Hagedorn's books in the 90s. I remember dog-earing pages and underlining sentences, and thinking, “I want to do that.” . . . . Then there's the beautiful, kind, intelligent, fierce, I'll-take-you-in-with-open-arms @mevelinagalang . I read her stories as a college student in New York, so imagine how I felt meeting her (and @apostol2408 ) at AWP two years ago. Evelina was on a panel about, I think, world themes in literature, but I can't be sure now because I was CRYING so hard in the back, overwhelmed by her proximity. When the panel ended, I wiped off my snot, huffed, puffed, said every prayer I knew, and worked up the courage to walk up to her and shake her hand. Man, when it was my turn to say hello, I forgot all my English and Tagalog, and I must've said something like “Hi um your books me read umm writer me too” or something unintelligible and stupid like that. And you know what she did??? She smiled and asked to take me to LUNCH. Lunch is sacred to Filipinos, if you didn't know that. I had LUNCH with Evelina Galang, and a year later, I would study under her and her colleagues at @vonacommunity at the University of Pennsylvania. And that summer would solidify my allegiance to the literary arts and to the empowerment of people of color through the written word. #filipinoamericanhistorymonth #faihm #philippines #filipinx #filipinxlit #filipina

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few weeks ago, I posted on social media to ask my followers the most current literature they've read by POC. The responses were basically, “White is a color too…here are 10 more white authors for you. You're welcome.”

I cried and cried for days. For some reason, I expected a list of comments about wonderful POC authors I'd never heard of. I was excited to see a few comments like “Oh, I just read Jhumpa Lahiri.” Or, “Have you heard of Rupi Kaur?” But instead, my white friends wanted more validation, and to feel included in the phrase POC. I took it as another rejection from my white counterparts. Not only were they going to ignore my question about multicultural books, but they were going to take my identity, change it, and use it to benefit themselves. I was no longer angry; I sulked, I couldn't move, I was so unmotivated, and I wanted to give up.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Okay, I told myself, I'm going to deactivate Facebook for a little bit and go on Twitter. I'll only follow strangers who fight for social justice and inclusion. I'll try not to read the comments in their threads because every progressive tweet comes with trolls and naysayers. I will stop reading the news and only talk to people about the weather. I figured that if I just avoided any type of real discourse, then maybe the pain would go away.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

That has looked like immersing myself in YouTube videos about the Philippines, watching Philippine news in Tagalog, practicing my Tagalog on WeChat, bugging my family for stories about or past, Googling Filipinx American organizations, e-mailing other Filipinx American academics, reading Philippine history books, looking for Filipinx American authors, and writing about my Filipina American experience. I've started asking my family that still lives in the Philippines for recommendations of books written in Tagalog.

I even changed my Master's of Arts thesis to include mythological folklore of the Philippines. The work is limited and I've had to do some digging, but that's okay. I know it is part of my healing process.

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

As I've started moving forward from this loss, I've began growing as a person. I started enjoying the journey to discover myself. I learned that lack of exposure to the work of marginalized people prevents us from growing as individuals.

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

I don't solely place the blame on literary agents, publishers, teachers, professors, librarians, mentors, public school administrations, the media, or myself. It's such a pervasive, deep issue throughout our entire society. But we do become responsible for our own actions once we are aware of this injustice.

Luckily, it wasn't too late before I realized how disconnected I'd become from my culture, and I still have time to do the work. Now I can join forces with others who are changing the narrative, creating new ones, and multiplying, sharing, and spreading it. We will help Filipinx American youth know their heritage, know their parents' and ancestors' language, know their history, and ultimately know themselves.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[cowgirluli-blog]

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

I am a Filipina American and came to the United States when I was seven years old. Since then, I've tried to assimilate into white American culture, forgotten how to speak my native language of Tagalog, and haven't learned anything about my history.

I didn't grow up around other Filipinos, but even if I did, they probably would have also been trying to “fit in” to this mold: lose the accent; don't eat white rice and chicken adobo during school lunch. We were only taught the sunny side of white American history. World history, diverse stories, and indigenous voices were practically nonexistent in the schools I attended.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

The loss hit me not too long ago-right after I visited the Philippines for the first time since I was 7 years old. There was a world I left behind 28 years ago that I didn't even know I missed. Suddenly, I had grief to overcome. I had to go back and forth through its stages, whether I was prepared or not.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

I denied that missing out on Filipinx literature was a problem. After all, I've already listed hundred of “read” books on Goodreads. And I read so many diverse books. I was in junior high when I first found Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in the very back corner of the public library, tucked away on a featured shelf for Black History Month. And since that day, I've been hooked on Black literature. Alice Walker, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison-but mind you, none of these were assigned school readings. I've always actively searched for diverse books on my own-yet I had no interest in looking for books written by Filipinos. And I thought that was okay.

Then I became angry.

I thought back to my childhood. Why didn't any of my teachers share any books by Black authors? Why didn't my classmates and I learn even a tidbit of information about the Philippines from our teachers? Why did my parents move us here? Why don't white people value diverse voices enough to include us? When I discussed these feelings with a white colleague, he actually said, “Well that's because there are hardly any of you in the U.S. Most of us are white, so of course most of our books are going to be by whites.” I wanted to yell. “Majority white so everyone gets white?!” How could he dismiss us entirely? There are literally millions of us. I was so livid, but I honestly couldn't put the words together. All I wanted was for him to see the value in diverse authors, but I was too mad to communicate it to him.

View this post on Instagram

It's the last #filipinofridaysarelit , for which I've reserved a post about two Filipina authors I adored as a young reader. . . . . When my mother and I were living in a van, and when my family was cleaning houses on Long Island, and we had nothing, I had Jessica Hagedorn's books. Her novels were the first that I read that had characters who experienced transcontinental life like I did. Her books show social stratification based on social circles that my family bounced in and out of, and immigrant life as lived and understood by a young girl. When Trevor Noah was asked how he decided on becoming a comedian, he said that his father made a joke in the middle of a protest once, a joke that made everyone, including the opposition, laugh. He thought, “I want to do that when I grow up.” I had the same experience reading Hagedorn's books in the 90s. I remember dog-earing pages and underlining sentences, and thinking, “I want to do that.” . . . . Then there's the beautiful, kind, intelligent, fierce, I'll-take-you-in-with-open-arms @mevelinagalang . I read her stories as a college student in New York, so imagine how I felt meeting her (and @apostol2408 ) at AWP two years ago. Evelina was on a panel about, I think, world themes in literature, but I can't be sure now because I was CRYING so hard in the back, overwhelmed by her proximity. When the panel ended, I wiped off my snot, huffed, puffed, said every prayer I knew, and worked up the courage to walk up to her and shake her hand. Man, when it was my turn to say hello, I forgot all my English and Tagalog, and I must've said something like “Hi um your books me read umm writer me too” or something unintelligible and stupid like that. And you know what she did??? She smiled and asked to take me to LUNCH. Lunch is sacred to Filipinos, if you didn't know that. I had LUNCH with Evelina Galang, and a year later, I would study under her and her colleagues at @vonacommunity at the University of Pennsylvania. And that summer would solidify my allegiance to the literary arts and to the empowerment of people of color through the written word. #filipinoamericanhistorymonth #faihm #philippines #filipinx #filipinxlit #filipina

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few weeks ago, I posted on social media to ask my followers the most current literature they've read by POC. The responses were basically, “White is a color too…here are 10 more white authors for you. You're welcome.”

I cried and cried for days. For some reason, I expected a list of comments about wonderful POC authors I'd never heard of. I was excited to see a few comments like “Oh, I just read Jhumpa Lahiri.” Or, “Have you heard of Rupi Kaur?” But instead, my white friends wanted more validation, and to feel included in the phrase POC. I took it as another rejection from my white counterparts. Not only were they going to ignore my question about multicultural books, but they were going to take my identity, change it, and use it to benefit themselves. I was no longer angry; I sulked, I couldn't move, I was so unmotivated, and I wanted to give up.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Okay, I told myself, I'm going to deactivate Facebook for a little bit and go on Twitter. I'll only follow strangers who fight for social justice and inclusion. I'll try not to read the comments in their threads because every progressive tweet comes with trolls and naysayers. I will stop reading the news and only talk to people about the weather. I figured that if I just avoided any type of real discourse, then maybe the pain would go away.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

That has looked like immersing myself in YouTube videos about the Philippines, watching Philippine news in Tagalog, practicing my Tagalog on WeChat, bugging my family for stories about or past, Googling Filipinx American organizations, e-mailing other Filipinx American academics, reading Philippine history books, looking for Filipinx American authors, and writing about my Filipina American experience. I've started asking my family that still lives in the Philippines for recommendations of books written in Tagalog.

I even changed my Master's of Arts thesis to include mythological folklore of the Philippines. The work is limited and I've had to do some digging, but that's okay. I know it is part of my healing process.

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

As I've started moving forward from this loss, I've began growing as a person. I started enjoying the journey to discover myself. I learned that lack of exposure to the work of marginalized people prevents us from growing as individuals.

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

I don't solely place the blame on literary agents, publishers, teachers, professors, librarians, mentors, public school administrations, the media, or myself. It's such a pervasive, deep issue throughout our entire society. But we do become responsible for our own actions once we are aware of this injustice.

Luckily, it wasn't too late before I realized how disconnected I'd become from my culture, and I still have time to do the work. Now I can join forces with others who are changing the narrative, creating new ones, and multiplying, sharing, and spreading it. We will help Filipinx American youth know their heritage, know their parents' and ancestors' language, know their history, and ultimately know themselves.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.