#speaking from experience as i was sent to a school that was very much extremely paternalistic and traditional

[13eyond13]

I think something a fem!Light would find really fascinating about fem!L is how she doesn't seem to have much of an internalized sense of inferiority or self-consciousness about her gender, because that would just have been SO ENGRAINED in Light's entire upbringing since day 1

[octahyde]

Groomer in the TWST Fandom

The post in question is going around again, and as someone who was groomed in online fandoms in high school it makes me absolutely fucking livid that they got away with it the first time.

(Please note that I got Doom’s consent before posting this because it indirectly involves them.)

@_snooboots on twitter has publicly groomed minors.

Sno wrote a thread calling out another user, which I am seeing go around again. The thread has plenty of issues (in certain areas they can have legal action taken against them for cyberstalking, speaking from direct experience), but there’s one in particular that sticks out to me.

The most pressing and disturbing part, however, is that they tagged children in uncensored pornographic images.

(as you can see based on the first screenshot, the censorship in the second and third images were added by me.)

After posting several screenshots, many of which had sexual images along with this literal pornography, Sno ends it with tagging several minors (and one adult):

Note that Sno is 19. Also note that the youngest user tagged is fourteen years old, a literal middle schooler.

Though 16 and 19 may not seem like a major age difference where grooming can take place (in many contexts it isn’t!), there are still cases where it can be. Case in point: I started being groomed by a 19 year old online when I was 16, and it lead to horrible, horrible things happening to me once I turned 18.

The amount of similarities this thread has to my own experiences with being groomed at that age is, point blank, extremely fucking uncomfortable. Though mine was in a slightly different context (it being sent as a “joke”), it was still being told Look How Bad This Porn is. Likewise, if Sno really cared, they would have taken 10 seconds to censor the screenshots before posting, like how I did.

Again, it’s important to note: these images were originally posted on a private account where minors could not access them. They were only made publicly and exposed to children when Sno reposted them.

When called out for sending porn to real life minors, they chose to double down:

Apparently tagging children in a twitter thread with graphic, uncensored pornography because “they asked” is “the right thing”. (Note also that they admit they had also exposed these kids to this prior on a locked account, which is very Normal behavior and opens up the possibility that this isn’t the first time they’ve “called someone out” doing this, but that’s just speculation.)

And again, I would like to reiterate, which Sno themself corroborates in these screenshots: these images were originally posted on a locked account, where only adults Doom knew were allowed in. Sno was the one who posted these images publicly.

I’ve been angry and hurt by this since this thread was first posted. Doom deliberately kept these images away from children. In contrast, this person sent the images to children whom would never see them otherwise to “call them out”. Sno absolutely should not or have gotten away with this.

(Also, as a footnote: do not use this post to start some proshipper vs anti tribalism bullshit. While I’m not that anon, I do absolutely hate both sides equally and both do this kind of thing on a regular basis.)

(EDIT: not that it means much at this point but it was pointed out that I was kinda uhhhh a huge hypocrite with the original screenshot of the thread! That’s been censored now too.)

[kinardsevan]

as we all know, i haven't really been doing @bucktommypositivityweek because I've been busy working on other stuff. but I still wanted to contribute, and I was feeling inspired reading people's additions for 'outsider perspective'. this was also a character study for one of my OCs.

so have this: -

colors

Wilder Gray was born to be an artist. Color was quite literally in his name. He was also gay fresh out of the womb, and god bless the fact that his parents had accepted that from day one, because otherwise he never would’ve stood a chance. 

Life had been easy for him, mostly. He came from enough money that his parents sent him to semi-private school for he better part of his upbringing. When they’d discovered his ability to draw and paint towards the end of elementary school, he’d been promptly enrolled in the Los Angeles Academy of Arts and Enterprise for intermediate school. Growing up in that kind of environment had fed his need to create as well as be surrounded by other creatives. It also fostered a very accepting community where he never felt out of place or like he couldn’t be exactly who he was. By the time he was in his twenties, enrolled in UCLA, he’d had several serious relationships. 

He met one Thomas Kinard at the age of twenty-five, fresh out of his graduate program with an MFA in interdisciplinary arts. Tommy was just about to turn thirty-three and had looked extremely uncomfortable in his skin as he sat down at a gay bar in WeHo. It would be weeks before Tommy would admit to him that he was freshly out of the closet, and that up until a few months before, the most he’d ever engaged with the community was through one night stands and the boy he had shared a secret relationship with during his five and a half years in the military. 

To be clear, Tommy had rocked Wilder’s universe on its axis. When they first met, Wilder wanted nothing to do with a relationship with him. he knew Tommy was still figuring out his footing with his sexuality now that he was out, and as much as Wilder was willing to be a friend through that process, he didn’t want to play the part of the boyfriend who helped Tommy experiment and get educated. 

Which isn’t to say it panned out the greatest for him. He watched Tommy engage in multiple relationships over the next three years, and he was jealous as fuck every single time. He hated Mike, the forty-five-year-old man that Tommy met a few weeks after Wilder had met him. That relationship lasted four months. Mike was a domineering dick who did a damn good job at pretending to be sunshine. Wilder wondered if Tommy realized he didn’t have to date twice-divorced men in order to figure out what he liked, but it also wasn’t his place to speak. At least, until he and Tommy met up on a random Tuesday, three and a half months into the relationship, and Tommy tried to lie to him about bruises on his wrists. Wilder was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. He’d told Tommy that night that he was capable of doing so much better, that he deserved better. When Tommy had questioned him—over half a dozen beers—Wilder had kissed him about it. 

Granted, that didn’t lead anywhere, other than far enough for Tommy to be confident enough to end the relationship with Mike. They were both single for a few months after that, but whatever Tommy was waiting on, Wilder wasn’t sure. He was still firm on his position about not wanting to be the person to help Tommy gain experience. 

After Mike came Leo. Leo came with a million and a half red flags. Leo came with love bombs and grand gestures, with one thing on his mind. As soon as he got Tommy into bed, he was gone. Tommy never really talked about how everything with Leo panned out, but Wilder suspected that it wouldn’t have gone much further anyway. Another night over too many beers, all Tommy would say about Leo was that he was ‘rough. Way too rough.’ 

Either way, he bounced back. Ezra came along only a few weeks after Leo, and Ezra was so, so sweet. And so naïve. He was younger than Wilder, and clearly still trying to figure things out about himself. However, Ezra also seemed to have stars in his eyes about how things were going to work out, while Tommy had lost most of his rosy view on his sexuality. It wasn’t to say that they didn’t have fun together. But Wilder could tell that Ezra thought Tommy would settle down with him, while Tommy just wanted to work out the kinks he’d gone through in recent months and figure himself out more. 

Ezra lasted two months. 

Charlie showed up in the middle of October, almost as though he’d been swept through along with the Santa Ana winds. He put a smile on Tommy’s face that Wilder was positive he’d never seen on his friend. Charlie was the boy from Iraq. He was also Tommy’s first real love. Wilder liked Charlie. 

Wilder didn’t love Charlie. 

It wasn’t that Charlie was a bad guy. Charlie clearly cared about Tommy a fair amount, although it was questionable whether he actually liked Tommy as much as Tommy loved him. The deeper problem was that Tommy looked at Charlie the way Ezra had looked at Tommy. Except, Charlie had done the  ‘make my parents happy’ way. He had been married, was now divorced, and still half-living in the closet. Wilder had warned Tommy against doing that with him, warned him that it would only lead to him getting hurt, but Tommy swore to him that Charlie had promised. Promised one day soon they would be out together. Promised they’d get to tell people the truth. Promised the kids would know him as more than just Charlie’s army buddy. 

Those promises went on for a year before Tommy smashed what was left of his rose-colored glasses. Wilder was there with the alcohol and the metaphorical stitches to piece Tommy back together. 

The thing was, by that time, he’d promised himself that he and Tommy were better as friends. That they’d built something strong enough to withstand the passing glances and the hugs that lasted a minute too long, the pauses when they pullled away where he could feel Tommy’s breath on his lips and it stirred something inside him that he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen and dating Danny Coston, sneaking kisses behind the fieldhouse while they were skipping out on PE. 

He’d loved Tommy too much by then. As his friend. 

As more than his friend. 

And then one night, over beers and a pizza, Tommy was telling him this story about a rescue that Wilder still thinks was absolutely fucking stupid, rocking a helicopter between cliffsides to rescue a group of teenagers who thought rock climbing without gear in Griffith Park sounded like a fun idea. By some miracle, everyone had been saved, Tommy hadn’t crashed the helicopter, and it had made the news. What’s more, Wilder had been the first person Tommy had wanted to tell him about his suicidal save. 

Wilder had to kiss him about it, of course. That shattered whatever falsehoods Wilder was letting himself live in at that point in relation to their relationship. Tommy wasn’t experimenting anymore, and he didn’t need an education. He was out, he wasn’t interested in keeping secrets, and he wanted something real.

. . . 

The first year was amazing. Granted, WIlder never fell in love with the danger of Tommy’s job, but that was fine. He was in love with everything else about Tommy. He loved his personality, his face, his body, his hopes, his dreams, his willingness to be Wilder’s model on any occasion…he just loved Tommy. 

Year two wasn’t as easy. They were settled, talking about living together but not quite pulling the trigger. Wilder’s career was doing really well. He’d taken part in four exhibitions in less than a calendar year and there was a lot of attention coming his way. There were offers coming out of Chicago and New York for residencies and some teaching opportunities. 

There was a bad fire at a compound. Tommy got second-degree burns and had pretty bad smoke inhalation. Wilder hoped that after that, maybe he’d rethink his career. 

Things got worse. 

Still, somehow they found their way through. As they came upon their second anniversary, it felt like they were reaching the other side. There were still offers on the table for Wilder, and he had floated a few of them to Tommy. In return, Tommy had fully supported the suggestion for a three-month residency in Chicago. He would remain in L.A. during Wilder’s time away, but it was good for Wilder, and as Tommy had said to him at the time, ‘what’s good for you is good for us’. 

Except, the offers didn’t stop at Chicago. He was weeks away from finishing his residency when he was offered the opportunity to take part in an exhibition in Texas. What was supposed to be a two week trip there turned into four months, and their anniversary came and went with little more than phone calls and the occasional flight out for a twenty-four or forty-eight hours together. 

After Texas was Savannah, Georgia. Then Charlotte, North Carolina. Then a month-long trip to Florida with a few guest lectures at FSU. Eight months into what should’ve been the third year of their relationship, Wilder hadn’t seen Tommy more than fifteen days total. And the thing was, the love was still there.

But they weren’t in love anymore, and he knew they both felt it. Tommy loved his job just as much as Wilder loved his. Neither of them were going to give up their careers, and they weren’t going to ask the other to, either. 

It ended on a facetime call, just a few weeks before their anniversary. There were tears shed, although it was more a sadness at the loss of what they’d hoped they could be than it was at the actual relationship. There were ‘I love you’s. And then there was silence. 

. . .

The first time Wilder meets Evan Buckley, he’s barely been back in Los Angeles for a week. He’s set to start a residency for the summer and then take on a teaching position at UCLA in the fall. He’s supposed to be meeting some friends for dinner when the blonde man bumps into him at the bar, stammering out an apology with full hands as they turn to face each other. 

Evan looks at him with a weird expression that Wilder doesn’t fully understand at the time. He dismisses the bump as equally his own fault and then turns his attention back toward the bar. 

“Hi, baby. Sorry, I’m late.” 

That voice feels like someone just poured a shot of Jack Tennessee Honey down Wilder’s throat. All the heat with none of the burn. As he turns back around, he spots a familiar head of brown curls just as the blonde tilts up toward him, and then Tommy is kissing the other man. Wilder inhales a sharp breath. 

The thing is, it’s been more than a year. It’s been even longer since he and Tommy were something real. But something about seeing him kiss another man still stirs something in Wilder’s chest. 

Still, he decides it’s not his place. Not here, and not tonight. He steps away from the bar and moves down some ten feet, around the corner of it and in between a few people. 

. . . 

“So were you going to call me?” 

It’s been three days. WIlder is standing in the middle of an aisle at Blick, trying to decide between Golden and WIndsor Newton acrylics when he looks up. Tommy has a basket in his hand, half-full with small canvases and a fair amount of Liquitex. 

“Hey, T,” he greets cordially. Tommy smiles at him and then steps forward, offering him a side hug. Wilder accepts it, tucking his chin over Tommy’s shoulder. “Good to see you.” 

“I had to call your mom,” Tommy states when they part. 

“I was gonna call at some point,” WIlder states a bit sheepishly. 

“You always go with Windsor,” Tommy comments, as though he can hear the argument in Wilder’s head. “Forget Golden.” 

Wilder chuckles. “Sure.” He’s quiet for a moment, reaches out for a tube of Windsor Newton. As he stares at the unbleached titanium shade in his hand, he contemplates. He tilts his head after a moment, glances over at Tommy. “So. The new guy.” 

There’s a glint of something in Tommy’s eye that Wilder hasn’t seen in at least five years. Something he saw once, after their first drunken kiss. 

“His name is Evan,” Tommy replies. He lets out a soft sgh. “He thought I was introducing you two. Had a hell of a time explaining to him that I didn’t even know you were back.” 

Wilder nods. That familiar twinge of jealousy throbs in his chest, under his heart. 

“You sticking around,” Tommy asks him after another minute of silence. Wilder glances back up at him. 

“Got a residency downtown,” he replies. “And then UCLA in the fall. So I’ll be here, yeah.” 

Tommy nods. “We should get dinner. Evan wants to meet you properly.” 

“Sure,” Wilder says again. What else is he supposed to say? They’re not together anymore. 

“Give me call when you’re more settled. We’ll plan something,” Tommy says with a pat to Wilder’s shoulder. He’s walking backwards then, heading back down the aisle. He shakes a finger in Wilder’s direction. “Good to see you, Wy.” 

. . . 

The second time Wilder meets Evan Buckley, they’re in another bar. He’s been in the studio almost exclusively for the better part of a week and had been dragged out by a friend with the promise of carbs—his fridge might’ve been mostly empty, other than juice boxes and pepperoni slices—but carbs is apparently at a bar that doubles as a pizzeria. 

He’s not following them, he swears. But he’s been waiting for ten minutes on his pizza while his friend is on the phone with his girlfriend when Tommy strolls up to the bar with his boyfriend—Evan? Tommy has his arm wrapped around the younger man’s hip, head tilted in and listening as Evan prattles on with very animated expressions. Wilder isn’t even sure what he’s on about, but regardless, Tommy is nodding along, clearly invested. 

When they make it up to the bar, some five feet away, Tommy’s arm wraps around Evan, boxing him in. There’s a grin on his face and Wilder notices as Evan leans back into Tommy’s body, turns his head and says something into his ear. Tommy laughs, loud enough that the tinkling sound of it carries in Wilder’s direction. 

“Four for Buckley,” one of the barbacks calls out. Evan raises his hand and the man steps over with boxes of pizza. At the same time, someone from the kitchen yells out, “Veggie with mushrooms, light alfredo up.” 

Tommy lifts his head at that, leans back from Evan just enough to look around the bar before his eyes eventually fall on Wilder. He smiles at him. A few seconds later, he’s up next to Evan’s ear, and then Evan glances over in Wilder’s direction. There’s a half-second pause where Evan seems to be taking him in before he smiles affiliatively at Wilder. Evan picks up the pizzas and Tommy switches the arm he has around Evan’s waist as they stride over. As they reach him, another person is settling Wilder’s pizza in front of him. 

“So do you just hang out at all the best bars in LA,” Evan asks when they reach him. 

“Honestly, I’m usually locked up in the studio,” Wilder replies. He glances in Tommy’s direction, but Tommy is still looking at Evan. Still that look in his eyes. Evan moves a hand from under the pizzas and extends it. 

“Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck though,” he states. Wilder extends a hand to him, shaking it. 

“Wilder Gray.” 

Evan nods. “I know.” There’s an expression on his face that’s caught somewhere between a multitude of emotions. A look that falls somewhere between curiosity, understanding, and skepticism. Wilder looks him over, spots the emblem on his t-shirt. 

“You’re a firefighter,” he muses. 

“And you’re a multidisciplinary artist,” Evan replies. 

Wilder nods. It’s interesting. It’s like they’re meeting for the most cordial duel of all time, but neither of them have brought guns; just clipboards and pens. 

A phone rings, and Tommy glances away from them. A moment later, he looks back up. 

“Hey baby that’s Eddie and Chris wondering why we haven’t brought dinner back,” he states, giving Evan’s hip a light squeeze. Evan nods, although his gaze lingers on Wilder for a few seconds longer. He turns then, leans into Tommy. Wilder watches as whatever tension is left in Tommy’s body seeps away. 

God damn. He really wanted to not be able to like Evan Buckley. 

“See you around,” Evan states after a moment, glancing in Wilder’s direction again. Wilder nods at him. As Evan and Tommy walk away, Tommy’s hand still on Evan’s hip, his friend strides back across the room 

“Hey, what’d I miss?” 

. . .

A few weeks go by without any run-ins. Maybe it’s because Evan and Tommy find other places to hang out. Maybe it’s because Wilder basically lives in his studio (it’s definitely not that). Maybe it’s because of wildfire season (it might be that). Either way,  Wilder doesn’t see much social interaction beyond his friends occasionally dropping by the studio and his parents stopping in to drag him into the sunlight. Once or twice he opens grindr, but nothing promising pans out. 

It’s mid August when Wilder spots them out together again. Another bar, another set of drinks. He’s been flirting with a guy who introduced himself three minutes after Wilder walked through the door when he spots Evan on the other side of the room. He almost thinks about going over to say something, but there’s a look in his expression. 

Something that looks curiously like defeat. Tommy is standing next to him—Wilder could place that mop of hair anywhere—talking into his ear much like he was that first night all those weeks back. He tries to look away enough to not make Evan look in his direction, realize he’s being stared at. But he sees the way Tommy’s talking calms Evan, the way he leans into him. The way their communication wipes out the defeat in Evan’s expression and replaces it with a small smile. And then a laugh. And then before long, Tommy has Evan half tipped on the barstool, their noses and foreheads pressed together as Evan straight-up giggles. Tommy is laughing with him, and fuck. 

Wilder really wanted to not like Evan Buckley. 

But Evan Buckley isn’t Mike, holding Tommy hard enough to hurt him (although the way he fists Tommy’s t-shirt before he kisses him makes a different kind of jealousy stir in Wilder, like these two probably throw each other around a bedroom with ease, and he wants to see that). Evan Buckley clearly isn’t Leo, just looking to fuck Tommy hard into a mattress and leave him behind. 

Evan Buckley might be a little like Ezra, and Wilder isn’t sure how he clocks that. Except, there’s an ease about him that Ezra never had. Evan Buckley clearly wasn’t looking for an education. The love in his eyes was obvious to the entire damn bar, whether they wanted to know or not. 

Evan Buckley definitely was not Charlie. He was openly making out with Tommy in public, hands all over the man’s body in a way that Wilder could tell was at least partially to tell the world ‘this is mine, and only mine’. 

. . .

It’s an early morning in September when they run into each other. Wilder is definitely not prepared for an eight AM class, and he’s questioning why he agreed to take this particular one on, but there’s no option to back out now. 

He stands inside the café wearily, waiting on his order, when the door chimes with ringing bells and he glances up. Evan Buckley. 

The blonde is in a hoodie Wilder recognizes as Tommy’s. The Harbor Station seal is on the back of it with his last name printed across the bottom. Evan yawns as he walks up to the counter and grabs two coffees. Knowing the kind of schedules they work, it seems Evan is heading home while Wilder is just starting his day. 

Except, Evan stops in his tracks when their eyes meet. 

“Evan,” he comments softly, acknowledging the other man. “Or, Buck. If you prefer.” 

Evan shrugs. “Evan is fine.” A pause. “Wilder. Its…convenient? To see you.” 

Wilder lets out a small chuckle. He nods. 

Evan walks forward a few steps, as though he’s not going to say anything further, and he makes it about a half-step past Wilder before he stops, leans back slightly, contemplating. He looks up at him. 

“He still talks about you,” he states. There’s no jealousy in his tone, no anger. Almost like he’s just putting the information out into the universe. Wilder nods again. He stares at Evan for a moment and then tilts his head slightly, almost like he’s letting him in on a secret. 

“And he’s in love with you.” 

Evan stares at him for a moment, and Wilder isn’t sure if Evan has realized that or not. His expression doesn’t let on one way or the other. 

Wilder takes a deep breath and the corner of his mouth pulls up a little into a small smirk. 

“Tommy never once looked at me the way he does you,” he states. “Not even during the best of it all. And me? I couldn’t ever fully accept the job.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating whether he needs to say more. Even if he doesn’t, he continues anyway. “I found him when he needed a friend. You founded him when he needed a partner.” 

A smile pulls at Evan’s face. If he has anything else to say, he doesn’t get the chance. His phone starts to buzz in the pocket of the hoodie, and he stacks the coffees together before pulling it out, answering the call, shooting only half a glance in Wilder’s direction before he speaks. 

“Hi, babe. No, I already got it. I’ll be there in like five.” 

. . . 

It’s the first week of December. Wilder is exhausted, maybe even a little burnt out, but riding high. His residency has panned out into an exhibition, and it’s the opening night. He’s been bouncing all over the gallery, trying to greet everyone and talk to them, see what they do and don’t like about the work presented. 

A hand comes down on his shoulder as he finally finds a few seconds to get a bottle of water, and he spins. Tommy. 

“Hey, T,” he greets cheerfully, if not a little weary. “Thanks for coming.” 

Tommy nods, and they share a quick hug. 

“How’d you hear,” he asks. Tommy gestures off towards one of the walls and Wilder glances over. 

“Evan saw the listing,” he states. “Told all of our friends we needed to come support. He’s really obsessed with that picture of your nephews.” 

WIlder glances over at the picture. It’s a large portrait, of two children facing away from the camera. One, old enough and tall enough that he isn’t even in the image aside from his torso and legs, with his hand resting on the younger one’s head. The younger child is a toddler, leaning into his sibling’s leg with his arm wrapped around it. 

“I’ve been tasked with getting your price list,” Tommy adds. 

Wilder lets out a soft huff as a smile tugs across his lips. 

He wanted to hate Evan Buckley. He wanted Evan Buckley to be like Mike. Or Leo. Or Ezra. Or Charlie. 

He wanted Evan Buckley to not be like him, not love and respect Tommy the way he did. But then…

Evan Buckley isn’t like Wilder. Evan Buckley supports the people his boyfriend cares about. Evan Buckley doesn’t care that Tommy is a firefighter or a pilot. Evan Buckley clearly likes art. Wilder barely knows him, and yet he already knows Evan Buckley is caring and selfless. 

He takes a breath and sighs, glancing back at Tommy, watching the way he watches Evan. 

“You’re gonna marry him.” It’s not a question. 

Tommy shifts his gaze back to Wilder. It’s the slightest movement, entirely imperceptible to someone who wouldn’t know otherwise. The twitch of the corner of his mouth, of his eyebrow. 

“Forever doesn’t seem nearly long enough,” Tommy says softly. 

Wilder can only shake his head at him as he smiles at his ex-boyfriend. 

“Well, when you start interviewing wedding photographers, I’d like to at least be consulted,” he states, extending a hand to Tommy. Tommy laughs at him but shakes his hand anyway. 

“Sure, Wy. But you should know, Evan’s seen your paintings and he wants one commissioned.” 

“I’ll take that payday,” Wilder says with a laugh. When Tommy lets go of his hand, he pats Wilder’s shoulder, and then he’s off again, heading back over to Evan and the friends they brought with them. Wilder stands in his spot a moment longer, both hands on the waterbottle he still hasn’t had a drink from. He watches as Tommy’s arm loops around Evan’s waist, and as Evan leans into him. The way Evan points at a portrait and talks to Tommy earnestly about whatever it is he sees. The way Tommy is completely enraptured by Evan’s words, nodding and smiling at him with interest. 

The way Evan puts his hand on the back of Tommy’s head as he leans into him, whispers into his ear. How, when Tommy turns into him to answer, Evan looks at him like he’s the only person in the room. 

The way jealousy still lives inside Wilder, but not the way it was that first night. No, this jealousy is from the way they look at each other, the way Wilder only hopes someone will hopefully look at him one day. He finally looks away when the two men kiss, cracking open his water bottle. He manages to get a sip off of it before someone else is walking up to him.

“You’re the artist, right?” 

[edwad]

holy fuck why do marxists (or whatever you call yourself) always interpret that criticism as calling people "stupid"? i do not think people who fail to understand extremely long and complex and abstract texts are stupid, that's your (rather crypto-ableist) labeling. i said i myself have trouble grasping it, are you calling me stupid for that? furthermore you are not a normie, i think you know very well you spend many orders of magnitude more time on this than "the masses" ever will (1/?)

also you guys love the "random guerrilas read marx so that means everyone can become a marx scholar" line which is implicitly (or sometimes explicitly, because people will add a "so they obviously know better than those ivory tower academics") anti-intellectual because i guess you think marx scholars who spend their entire lives studying marx are just jacking off most of that time since someone with high school literacy can do just as well as them on top of working a full time job (2/?)

finally, has it ever occurred to you that i'm speaking from experience? i know people who have tried reading capital and get overwhelmed by stuff that's routine to me (e.g. reading a primary text from two centuries ago) as someone who, i agree, doesn't have all that much training. yes, they can overcome that barrier, but as you demonstrate that takes an amount of time and dedication that few will elect. and i know these people, i don't think they're "stupid", you called them that (3/3)

also, i want to add, i think calling people who don't have the kind of knowledge or intellectual skills that are very rarely acquired outside of formal training "stupid" is what's elitist. i commend you on being one of those exceptions, but don't beat on people who haven't done the same (4/4)

you've just sent me all this simply because you made the claim that marxism can't mobilize the masses which it very obviously historically has. you're wrong and trying to move the goalposts now as if im the one claiming that being politically activated means having to engage with "extremely long and complex and abstract texts". but im not saying random guerrillas are all marx scholars. in fact i explicitly denied that this level of engagement is necessary (or even desireable!) for political actors in these movements. and now you're trying to spin this as if im somehow being both anti-intellectual and crypto-ableist and all sorts of other wild things just so you can try to land some sort of blow to avoid facing the fact that marxism has indeed mobilized lots of "average" people, many of them without access to formal education. i also never called anybody stupid but you've somehow managed to get extremely worked up about something i never said!

[rocketchip-comic]

Totally ok if this isn't the vibe of what you're exploring in rocket chip's world, but I'm personally really interested in how different fantasy/sci-fi societies view gender & how that relates to characters, so how does Rocket's planet view that & how does that affect Rocket's worldview, and how does Chip view it, being a robot and all? :D (I adore these two btw your art is so fun & it brightens my day to see them!!)

Ooh I like this question! It's something I've thought about a lot . (BIG DISCLAIMER: every time I mention societal stuff here I'm speaking from a VERY American lens. For our purposes we can assume Rocket is from the equivalent of America. I can't speak for anything else.)

Fun fact, if you go back far enough, my original concept for rocket and chip had them both be boys! I ended up rethinking that after going through some reevaluation of my own identity. I realized that I only made them male because that's what I mostly saw in other sci-fi stories, and I wanted to make the characters be closer to my own experiences. I'm a girl, and I like being a girl! But I don't want that to define me, y'know? I decided that the label can mean whatever I want it to mean, and whatever I'm comfortable with. So I decided it would be the same for these two!

You'll notice I refer to Rocky and Chip as girls, but I only use she/her pronouns for them outside of the actual comic. Within the story's text, I've been trying not to have them refer to each other by any gendered terms at all! And if it can't be avoided, they both use they/them. This is mostly because I want readers to come to their own conclusions, and not focus on it too much!

Rocket's planet is extremely similar to ours, just with an extremely exaggerated version of our class divide. The rich cats created a barrier around the planet to contain all of the pollution, living on top while the poor "undercrust" cats stayed underneath the shell. Their society is capitalistic to the ultimate extreme, and everyone is focused on working their way up to the top. (Very unlike the cats from earth actually!)

The cats are biologically the same as earth mammals. They're actually the least interesting aliens that appear in the comic haha they're basically just anthro cats.

But another detail that won't be explored until later, is that their society necessitates working so much that the concept of marriage and parenthood doesn't really exist. Things happen and kittens are born, but the majority of the kittens are sent off to live in schools and don't know their parents at all. This makes their view of gender kinda different. There isn't really an expectation for women to have children or be homemakers, likewise there's no expectation for men to be strong protective breadwinners. It's better in some ways, worse in others.

But generally, even though gender inequality still very much exists, gender isn't considered as big of a deal. It's also more socially acceptable to present as gender neutral. Not that they're super progressive or anything, it's just that they don't really care about it as much. Especially from Rocket's point of view. See, Rocket was always ignored a lot. She's short for her species and shies away from attention so she never really cared to express herself at all. She was never really expected to be anything but neutral though. It was less of her choice, and more a side effect of being easily overlooked and not really thinking much of herself.

The ONE thing you could consider "girly" about Rocket is that her favorite color is pink and she loves things decorated with hearts. She's a little embarrassed about that now, but over time she'll start showing it more! But it's the reason she always wears that jacket with the pink heart and trims. But even if she was a different gender she would always love pink hearts!

Now Chip's origins are still a total mystery for now! 🤫 But she genuinely did not consider gender AT ALL. I think she still hasn't. Not a thought in her head. When the alien at the recycle shop referred to her as an "it" she was not at all offended. Chip genuinely would never care what pronouns you'd use for her. For that matter, Chip's body is all doll anatomy. If she wasn't already wearing clothes when Rocket woke her up for the first time, she would prefer not to wear any. (The only reason she continues to wear clothes at all is because Rocket gets embarrassed when she doesn't. Chip thinks this is hilarious. Chip thinks the concept of sex at all is hilarious.)

Now considering all that, why does chip use she/they pronouns? Because Rocky does!!! And Rocky is so cool! It's as simple as that!

[idrisofficial]

drop some kilia and/or seren lore

whoa okay there is very little so you’ll have to bear with me as i make shit up as i go. i feel bad for the two of them, they never really took off or integrated into the story, but they kind of exist in my brain anyways.

killia came from a family who got rich off of a bunch of illegal shit. usually the income came from taking part in organized crime (wooo idrisian mafia), but pretty much anything substantial that made them discreet but solid money they would take up. so killia grew up wealthy, but of a low social class and therefore extremely unlike any of the other wealthy characters.

he was also exposed to a lot of anti-government sentiment by proxy when he was young. his parents had little personal opinion on the government and were mostly negligent in their parenting. but the proximity to illegality lent itself to dissent, and killia absorbed what was around him like a sponge. as he grew up, he became increasingly outspoken; this posed a huge problem for his parents, who couldn’t give less of a shit about political justice, but were endangered by their child drawing attention to himself. so when killia was sent to reform school, which basically fucks you over for life in idris, his parents just left him to rot. obviously this only fueled killia’s sedition, and within reform school he was able to meet likeminded people, i.e. rowen and evander. this is tangential, but i like to say that killia and rowen dated for a few months while they were there before the experience made them realize they were both gay. anyways. he was super important in r&e’s plan to burn the whole prison school down, and after they did he just kind of stuck around with them. he’s known them for about a decade now and they’re all really close friends. killia is much more bookish and sensitive than either rowen or evander, but he’s also really damn passionate and dedicated to the cause. he’d go down fighting.

i know even less about seren than i do about killia whoa!

seren grew up in a small, isolated community of adherents to idris’s Ancient Religion which is currently unnamed and undefined. i know extremely little about the religion’s practices or history, but followers of it in present idris are an extreme minority who are shunned by society. the fringes of people left who still live according to it are mostly concentrated in communities like the one seren grew up in, secluded in the mountains or forests.

seren speaks very little and gets a lot done. he’s still an avid believer in Ancient Religion and practices on his own, but after suffering extreme mental illness and childhood trauma because of the community’s isolation, he made the decision to leave for idris’s capital halcyon city at about 17.

living in the capital was also very traumatic at first. he had no experiences or skills suited to an urban setting, and his mental illness and fear of persecution prevented him from integrating. he met killia purely by chance, whom he did not trust at all at first, but after killia invited him to stay and heal with him for a time, they grew a lot closer (wink wink). their relationship is complicated but very tender, and they bring out the best in each other. seren is sharp and insightful and challenges killia with perspectives so far from anything he’s ever considered. killia is imaginative and knowledgeable and encourages seren to find joy and love.

to put it bluntly, seren still has no idea what he wants out of life, but working to take down the system that has taken so much from him and his people gives him a practical purpose and somewhere to put his values for the time being. he doesn’t care about the rebellion at heart nearly as much as killia does, but killia is kind of all he has, and his devotion is worth a lot to him. seren would hate to die for the revolution, but he doesn’t have the healthiest relationship with death either; if he can’t live among better circumstances anyways, he’d rather die in service of justice than inevitably by his own hand.

that was super fucking dark! really, most of that was a psychoanalysis of seren’s blackest qualities. he doesn’t seem all that depressing even the majority of the time, just quiet. he keeps busy. he’s solution-oriented. he’s a fantastic asset to the revolution even if he doesn’t live and breathe its ideals, because he’s highly unassuming (great for stealth) and very practical. seren will do basically anything the revolution needs him to, though he’s hesitant to resort to direct violence in any capacity. he’s much better friends with evander than he is rowen. he also has somewhat of an affinity for alya, because his religion is essentially a derivative of hers. but mostly he’s pretty asocial.

[zinkadear]

U for the meme

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

I'll talk about three characters and fandoms that I haven't mentioned much, if at all.

Character: Gord Vendome

Media: Bully

Most people probably don't know what Bully is. It's a game by Rockstar, the same company that makes Grand Theft Auto and Red Dead Redemption. It's about a delinquent teenager named Jimmy Hopkins, who gets sent to a boarding school for a year.

Aside from getting into trouble, he ends up helping each of the cliques, including the nerds. So he's often a bully to the bullies. It's not only a fun game where you can cause mischief, but one of my favorite features is the romance.

Jimmy is bisexual, and along with girls, he can kiss six of the boys. For a game made in 2006, that's pretty awesome. You give them flowers, then can kiss them and they follow you around.

Gord is one of these boys. He's a member of The Preppies clique, and loves dressing in expensive clothes. He always goes on about disliking poor people, but is attracted to Jimmy.

He'll make comments about feeling dirty while kissing him (not because he's male, but because he's of a lower class and a bad boy). But he thoroughly enjoys the "naughty" act.

He's a brat, but hilarious and charming.

Character: Dolph Starbeam

Media: The Simpsons

As one of the bullies at Springfield Elementary, that means he has to be a dumb brute, right? Wrong! He's extremely talented and unique.

He's very intelligent, speaking several languages. They include Spanish, German, Hebrew, Arabic, Korean, Latin, Esperanto, Old English, and even the fictional language of Klingon.

He's Jewish, and his hobbies include tap dancing, riding horses, stage fighting, and imitating an English accent.

His mother and father divorced, resulting in him now having two dads.

He's the quietest of the bullies, and has hinted at suffering abuse.

While he may beat someone up, it'll never be because of their religion, sexuality, etc. as he's a minority himself. Some of his interests could also be considered "nerdy".

I adore him, and hope he shows more of his smart and sensitive side to his friends.

Character: L Lawliet

Media: Death Note

He's been my favorite anime character for about a decade, ever since I first watched the series. I think he's incredibly adorable, yet also badass.

His love of sweets, and the awkward way in which he presents himself, while being one of the smartest detectives in the world, is very amusing.

He has dark eye bags from looking at computer screens all day and hardly sleeping, wears large and baggy clothing, is always barefoot, constantly slouches, sits in a weird crouching position, and has an odd way of holding things in his hands.

He's definitely weird, and doesn't try to hide it around others. I find his unique appearance and personality very endearing.

I've also met Alessandro Juliani, his English voice actor, which was one of the coolest experiences in my life.

(Link to Ask Meme)

[littlefirefly42]

Love, Maxie

Pairing: Elmax (El x Max)

Summary: When Max's letters stop coming, El realizes she's lost the only person she's ever truly loved

Warnings: Mental Breakdown; Self harm; Su!cide (not graphic); vomiting (not ED related); Hurt no comfort

A/N: I am aware of the irony of finishing a 2000+ word oneshot for myself in less than a week and still not having finished some of y'all's requests. I'm sorry. My only excuse is that I was sad and I needed an outlet. I hope that you enjoy this while you wait I suppose.

~~~

Seven months. That’s how long it had been since Jane Hopper had seen her girlfriend. Trapped in California with not a fraction of a chance that Joyce would let her go back to visit Hawkins, she had been extremely excited when Max had visited the previous June. They had splurged on comics and ice cream, cuddling in El’s bed and reading together. Late at night, they had snuck out the window and onto the roof (with the assistance of El’s powers in Max’s case), and they stared up at the moon and the stars. A strawberry moon, Max had commented once, and El loved her more than she’s ever loved anyone. Now El was sitting alone on the roof, in the same spot, rereading the last letter Max had sent. The date at the top said September 13th, but El had gotten it on November 6th, nearly two months later. 

El,

Hey! I miss you so much! I’m glad you’ve been doing well. How did you do on that summer experience essay? I’m sure it was amazing, the draft you sent me was really good. I’m still not in school, but I’m going back in a few days. I’m not really that nervous, but I miss you so much, and I don’t exactly have a crowd of people lined up to be friends with me. Well, I have Lucas. He’s mostly over the breakup and we’ve hung out a few times this summer, so I think we’re cool now. Mike still hates me though, and Dustin just pretends I don’t exist. Steve makes them all play nice because he’s basically my mom at this point, but to be honest I don’t really hang out with any of them very often anymore. Speaking of moms, I think I might tell mine about us, if it’s okay with you. She didn’t seem too shocked when she saw Steve and Eddie together, so maybe she’d be cool? I’m starting to lose sight in my left eye again, so I’ll have another surgery in a few weeks, but apparently it’s a pretty easy one and I’ll just be in and out. Maybe I’ll tell her right before I go under and see what she says after. Also, I’ve been learning how to do wheelies in my wheelchair, I can’t wait to show you the next time I visit. Write back when you can, and tell Joyce and your brothers I said hi!

Love, Maxie

Maxie. It was the nickname El gave Max after they started dating. Less formal than Maxine, more personal than Max, more affectionate than Mad Max. Seeing it scribbled on the worn paper in her girlfriend’s scrawly, messy, beautiful handwriting made El want to sob. She hadn’t heard from Max since she received this letter. She had written back, some giddy lovesick shit about how excited she was and how much she missed her girlfriend, but there was never a reply. She thought it may have gotten lost in the mail, but three letters and two months later it finally sank in: Max wasn’t writing back. Max wasn’t coming to visit. Max didn’t care.

It was a thought El had been stewing in for the past week and a half, and it was breaking her ribs one by one. Sure, she had missed Max before then. There were nights even before the letters stopped coming that she had felt so incredibly lonely without her fiery, sharp-witted girlfriend that she cried for hours and could still taste the sorrow in the back of her throat the next morning. After November 6th, she felt a twinge of loneliness and disappointment whenever she would sort through the mail and hand Will his letter from Mike. She felt hollow waiting like that. 

But none of it compared to how she felt now, days after she realized that Max wasn’t busy, and her letter had not been lost in the mail. El just wasn’t worth her time anymore.

That hurt. So goddamn much. The setting sun was clouded over, fracturing and distributing the soft light over the horizon, and a few heavy rain drops fell onto the roof. El refolded the letter along its worn, taped creases. She crawled to the edge of the roof and slipped down into her bedroom window, being careful not to land too loudly. She placed the letter along with the others she had from Max.

“Kids! Dinner!” Joyce yelled from downstairs. Good timing too, because El didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts anymore. But as she was opening her door, something stopped her. 

“Coming mom!” Jonathan yelled back. El closed her door and locked it. She didn’t know why, but she felt different. Detached. Her hands shook as she walked back to her desk and picked up the letter.

It made a beautifully violent sound as she tore it. El’s heart pounded, and she grabbed another letter, tearing that one too. Adrenaline seized the girl, grabbing letter after letter and ripping them apart. It was raining harder now, but she didn’t close her window. She couldn’t care less about anything anymore. 

“El, come down here!” She heard Joyce call, but the voice hardly registered. She kept tearing apart letters, and when she finished she went to her book shelf and pulled out all her comic books, throwing them on the floor. Several additions of Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Elektra, and dozens more that Max had introduced her too. El fell to the ground and tore those up too, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. There was a knock at her door, but she was beyond too far gone to hear it. There was nothing outside this room. Nothing but her and the essence of Max in everything.

Max, huddled in the sheets that El threw off her bed.

Max, commenting on the movie and band posters El tore down.

Max, smirking at the flannel that, when El failed to rip with her bare hands, used her powers.

Max, braiding the soft brown hair that El weeded out from its roots.

Max, tracing the veins on the pale wrist that El scratched until it was red and raw, as if she could scrape away the feeling of being loved by someone and then suddenly and inexplicably being abandoned. 

Max, who abandoned her.

Things were breaking themselves now, shelves collapsing and lamps shattering, a reflection of the carnage in El’s mind. Someone was pounding on the door. Someone else was yelling. But El was unreachable, buried beneath layers of anger and betrayal, everything else was muffled and far away.

Thunder growled lowly outside the open window, and El found herself crawling beneath it. The cold water puddled on the floor shocked her nerves and unearthed a sorrow beneath the fury that El had been ignoring for a long time. She held herself, fingernails digging into her biceps, rain showering down on her, and drowned in the agony that was losing the one person you trusted to never leave. She may have screamed, but she didn’t hear herself. When Jonathan broke the door down with a crowbar, she didn’t flinch.

~~~

The next day, El still refused to speak. Still refused to talk about what happened, despite the best efforts of her family. Joyce had insisted she stay home from school, so she sat at the dining room table and stared through her lunch. Who knew pb&j could be so goddamn patronizing.

 She heard the motor of a truck pulling into the driveway, but she didn’t pay it any mind until Joyce shouted something from her office. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from one dimly lit room down the hallway to another, leaning silently on the doorway of Joyce’s office.

Joyce was holding a phone with one hand and scribbling aggressively in a notepad with the other, but she shifted the phone to her shoulder when she saw El.

“Honey, would you get the mail please?” She stage-whispered. “I’m waiting on a package and I think it just got delivered.”

El nodded. When she opened the front door there was nothing on the doormat, so she walked down the driveway to the mailbox. It was a cloudless day, and the blinding sun after the previous night’s storm made the air muggy and humid. There were several letters in the mailbox, as well as a newspaper and a folded yellow paper package. She pulled everything out and brought it back inside, tossing the letters and paper carelessly onto the kitchen counter and taking the package to Joyce. 

“Thanks El.” She said, then added “No bills or anything?”

El responded with a simple shrug and walked away before Joyce could add anything more to the skeleton of a conversation. When she returned to the kitchen she began sifting through the letters for anything important, needing something to occupy herself with, to save her from her thoughts. She found nothing notable, two bills, a check, some ads, and- El paused. A stuffed brown envelope from Hawkins, Indiana. At first she dismissed it, with a twinge of heartache, as another letter for Will; But the return address caught her eye. It was Max’s. Suddenly, the walls of the house felt very claustrophobic. El’s heartbeat quickened and dread rooted itself deep in her chest as she slid to the ground. Slowly, with sweaty, shaking hands, she tore the seal and pulled out the first of three papers. It was written on flowery stationary, a cruel beauty to accent the pure repulsiveness of its content.

Dear Ms. Byers,

I hope you and your family are doing well. I heard that Jonathon got his acceptance letter, send him my congrats. I am writing to share some rather distressing information with you. You must excuse the tardiness of this letter, I have been grieving and could not bring myself to write it. However, I feel that it is my moral duty, and my duty as a mother, to inform you that your daughter, Jane, is a homosexual.

El felt her chest tighten. Joyce had known about her and Max for months and didn’t seem to have an issue with the relationship, but from the tone of the letter it was obvious Ms. Mayfield didn’t feel the same. She took a deep breath, letting the fact sink in, before continuing to read.

I’m ashamed to admit that I have known for quite awhile, and only now have I had the strength to tell you. You may remember my daughter, Maxine, who came to visit you in the summer. Maxine was sick as well, and I recommend you immediately seek therapy for Jane. The two were involved in a romantic relationship, the likes of which drove my daughter to suicide several months ago.

Something stopped inside of El. She reread the last sentence three more times, looked away, blinked, and then read it again. But no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was hallucinating, the word was still there and glaring. Suicide.

I know this kind of thing is hard to hear, and you may want to deny it, but from one mother to another I think the best thing for Jane is to accept it and get her professional help. I have photocopied Max’s suicide note and enclosed it with this letter, so that you may understand the severity of the situation. Please address it immediately, before we lose another child.

My best regards to you,

Susan Mayfield

El finished reading the letter and tossed it aside numbly. She pulled out the second paper, an obituary with a picture of a grinning little kid in a yellow bathing suit, missing most of her teeth, ginger hair tangled and wet. El didn’t even bother reading it. She dropped it onto the letter from Max’s mom and pulled out the last paper. It was a slightly crooked photocopy of a lined piece of paper.

El,

I am so sorry. I know my mother will read this first, but I couldn’t care less. You should know I lied to you in my letters. I don’t speak or eat a lot anymore and I don’t leave my room most days. I miss you so much. I don’t have anyone anymore, and all the time I’m just alone with my shitty mind. After you left Hawkins the first time I thought I would be okay, and I was for a while. At least, I was better than I am now. Then you came back and I didn’t even care that the world was ending because I was with you again. And that day in the hospital, when you told me you loved me, I think it was the best moment of my life. I was so ready to give up El, but being with you saved me. When you went back to Cali I didn’t feel that same emptiness as the first time. I missed you so goddamn much, but with the letters and the visit in the summer I felt like I always had something to look forward to, and that something was always you. Nothing else, no one else. Just you. And then it all went to shit again. The guys stuck around a little after everything went down, but eventually they all kind of stopped talking to me. Steve still drives me places and scolds me for not taking my meds and all that, but we’re not really friends you know? Plus, I used to just get ignored at school, but the wheelchair has been an asshole magnet and it’s getting a little intolerable. Anyway, it doesn’t matter really. The point is I just kept feeling worse all the time. And I love you, and for a while that was enough, but eventually it just hurt more, feeling like a shell of myself until the next time I heard from you. I told my mom about us like I said I would, and she broke down and said I needed help and I couldn’t keep writing to you. She’s trying to get me sent to some clinic now, and I just can’t do it anymore. Without you, I’ve got no one. So I’m sorry, really really sorry, that I couldn’t be strong enough for you, because you sure as hell were for me and now I’m leaving you but if there’s a god he knows I don’t have a choice. I love you El, I hope you live the best goddamn life.

Love, Maxie

El’s hands shook as she placed the photocopy gently on top of the other papers. Her heart kept pounding faster and faster, and it made her chest ache. Everything was too large and too close, and yet there was a strange numbness to the overwhelming feeling, like a fight-or-flight response, a reflex. Her body was acting on its own, and her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. She lifted herself from the ground, heart still pounding, and made her way dizzily up to her room, leaving the two letters and her girlfriend’s obituary on the kitchen floor. El's room was in the same chaotic disarray it was the previous night, and still she looked around and saw nothing but Max. Everything she had destroyed in her blind rage was Max. And Max was dead. And everything was gone. And El fell down to her knees and threw up, then cried on the hardwood floor for a long time.

[justadiva]

3 marriage proposals girl omg??? what’s your secret!!! and why did you turn them all down, if you’re comfortable answering in general terms 👀

lol I don't mind sharing! they were all very wild experiences and less indicative of me than of the men in question however know going into this that I have never been broken up with, and am a hussy

[tw to the first paragraph for emotional domestic abuse + trauma dump]

First guy was my first real relationship out of high school. like I slept around in college but this was the first guy I Dated. I was 18, he was 29, lots of behind the scenes grooming and emotional stuff which you know its hard to know where the line blurs between neglect and abuse but like if your 18 year old gf is crying next to you and you laugh and turn away from her like maybe youre the asshole?? sorry-- trauma dump but you asked!! anyways we had a crazy experience where he had a health emergency (because we were fucking please keep this in mind) that sent him to the hospital and thats where I met his parents and from that point on they just decided I was a member of the family (I have Extremely Wild Memories of this family). The part that kept me around was that I was Very Close to his niece who lived with him, her mom was out of the picture and so she really took to me and I to her.

2 years later... he has not told me he loves me (nor I him!), but says that we should get married; that he would never want children of his own and that a wedding ring and an actual wedding would be too expensive. Better to get it on paper and nothing else. A few months later from his "proposal" he didn't speak to me for 11 days, and in those 11 days I realized how great my life was without him. I drove to his house (we were long distance at the end of our relationship, I always drove to him and he would never visit me) knocked on his door, greeted his brother, said a sincere goodbye to his niece and then took my book off his bookshelf. He followed me out and was/acted extremely confused; wanted to talk things out but I was done.

Guy 2! Met through a mutual friend, dated for 2 weeks before he said "I love you" (fun fact about me: I hadn't told a man "I love you" once in my whole damn life [thank you man #1!!] until 1 month ago to my current boyfriend) It was fun at first because basically like every single one of our kinks overlapped and that was *fantastic* and I learned a lot about myself in those two months, and like one of his kinks was worshiping/spoiling me, and I'm super into that, but I'm also aloof like a cat. I must be worshiped as the sun, but like.. dont touch me SO MUCH (except my now bff muah) and he was SO needy. and my aloofness really hurt his sensitive puppy feelings.

He also didn't have a lot of skills or interests outside of hockey, which he was extremely good at and I wouldn't be surprised if he makes something of himself with it (this was fun for me cause I like to ice skate and I would skate sometimes while they practiced so the team like me-- hockey slang and dudes are fun!) oh and drinking, he was german [but his name was french] and he could and would drink anyone under the table. But yeah drinking and hockey are not the 2 skills I want the future father of my children to have, and like a month and 1/2 into our really great sex he made the mistake (after the mistake of telling me he loved me during puppy love... I find false declarations to be extremely off putting.) of saying something about "our daughter" and I was like hold up.

I didn't know where to squeeze this in until now: he gave me a ring! so it was his most prized possession that he had gotten after a (deep breath) pilgrimage? in norway where over the course of his journey the blacksmith made and engraved this ring for him that was also a symbol of his soul and his devotion to Freya <- yes he was a Heretic which I am all for cause he was the woke non-racist kind but yeah I was like oh thank you for your soul ring, I like trinkets :D and because he was several times my size the ring didnt fit me so I wore it in on the same chain as my fidget ring.

Then, later? cant remember how long I had the ring- he told me at ihop that he wanted to take me to germany to meet his family so that he could give me his grandmother's wedding ring and then we could be properly married. He explained to me then that ever since I accepted his norse ring that we were married. I was DEVASTATED for him y'all dont understand. I feel so bad about breaking peoples hearts and honestly everything he was doing was *technically*?? romantic but I was like PLEASE save your Grandmother's ring for someone who loves you and has *told you that she loves you* and, I told him in plain english, someone who he had known for longer than 2 months.

He dropped me off from breakfast, I gave him back the first ring [he tried to make me keep it. I put it on the ground in front of him outside my house] and calmly broke up with him while he broke down into tears. I held him and shushed him and said no you may not call me and no we will not be seeing each other again and wished him the best. Then went inside leaving him to cry out there. He knocked a few times but I was busy not answering the door. Hope he's well!

#3 I met through a different mutual friend! he's still only an acquaintance + we're on good terms. (fun fact he has the same name as my dad!) He's autistic and aromantic, very antisocial but extremely intelligent + cool dude. The weird part was that he's from old money and is the "heir" and needs an heir himself. So he, as one of our first interactions + actually without ever meeting me but only knowing of me through our mutual friend proposed.

Breakdown: We would be married like Victorian Style, married in title but without romance + I would have a yearly salary basically for having 1 son (like invitro eugenics style so like its 5sure a boy and I would only have 1 child), and raising him lovingly in the household of (but not underfoot of) my husband. I am slightly off my own rocker so I genuinely contemplated this and broke down the pros and cons.

PROS: I can be a housewife its a skillset and I have it. (oh maybe thats why I get dudes who want a Wife tm) He'd set me up for life like super legal style and thats sexy. I could sleep around! It was like part of the deal! We could each have our partners as long as it wouldn't affect the boy (we're getting to that) [I could divorce him after the boy went to college and retain my yearly salary!] + he even was like "we dont have to have sex" but I was offended by this honestly because Im a vixen.

CONS: Really and truly the only cons are that I cannot see how this situation would not traumatize The Boy and if I ever did have A Son And Heir he would become My One True Love and Obsession [throw back to me being crazy :)] and I could not bare for him to be traumatized.

So yeah I just basically said "Thank you for the very cool offer but I cannot accept." and he was like "Contact me if you ever change your mind." The reason I actually even wrote those tags earlier was I was thinking to myself that if my current relationship doesnt work out that I would call him.

[baladric]

hey sorry if this totally out of line but I think you've talked on here about being both adhd & autistic? do you happen to have any resources or recommendations of people to follow or sth etc about that? I'm increasingly thinking that that's me and a lot of the stuff I'm finding is only about one or the other and i dont quite relate to it or else it's flat out ableist bullshit -- id really just like to be able to see more from people who are kinda similar ish

omggg, hello, friend!!!!!

i personally don't have any resources except my psychiatrist, who corroborated my hunches from the jump and periodically has things to say about the absolutely bonkers overlap b/t adhd, the autism spectrum, and (a much less discussed thing) ocd. it's all neurodivergence, which means the paths our brains tread sometimes share patterns (esp sensory issues b/t adhd & autism, and a desperate need for set routines b/t autism & ocd, etc) and comorbid a whole lot more than we really discuss. my suspicion is there just hadn't been enough serious research (unbiased double-blinds and such) into neurodivergence as whole, and so it's not quite understood how exactly they all overlap, and where the borders are between them (and even if there really are borders)

the few sort of. idk, things that helped me recognize myself were videos my best friend sent me on tiktok, and i famously loathe tiktok and am not on there but if you find the right ones they're actually super super helpful. largely bc it's real people relating their lived experiences, and also bc sometimes it's like people on the forefront of neuropsychology or presently in school for it, talking about stuff.

i will say, if it helps at all, that my path has been an extremely wonky one that i think has a whole lot to do with alexithymia (inability to name your emotions) where i never identified with the really simplistic language of autistic and adhd symptoms, bc like. for example, i had never thought hard enough about how loud sudden sounds effect me to realize that yes, it is the experience of physical pain that's described as part of neurodivergent sensory issues—a phraseology that i really did not identify with the first hundred times i read about it, because i just don't think abt myself in simple concepts like pain. and on and on like that.

i haven't sought formal diagnosis for a few reasons, but imo "diagnosis" is a weird bar to set. i know several deeply ND people who tested negative for adhd, and one negative for autism, and like man, i personally escaped any concern from teachers or family for my entire life, despite the lens of hindsight i have now that so so loudly says that was an autistic adhd child in egregious amounts of daily distress—because i speak well (one teacher called me "silver-tongued" in a disciplinary meeting in college, which was like Damn Okay, You Beethoven-Lookin Walnut) so it's all extremely weird and hazy!

bc i'm bad at compiling resources myself, my (deeply virgo) best friend has a few suggestions!

blog post of resources for autism, ADHD, and AuDHD (this is GOLD)

generally searching "AuDHD" on tiktok turns up some good first-hand/lived experience resources (lots of talk about stimming that we don't necessarily recognize as stimming, which helped me SO much bc oh shit i am actually constantly stimming huh????)

a few folks on twitter: Structured Success (whose handle is StructuredSucc which is just.... so incredible that i have to lie down now.......), AutisticCallum_, and AutisticCoach_

i'm sure there's ppl on tumblr talking about audhd too, so if any of my followers have those, pls comment and i'll add them in!!! (and follow them myself ;akdfjalwdj)

i hope this was helpful at all, and if you have any questions or anything i'm very open to talking about this!! honestly i would love for more of us to learn this shit abt ourselves earlier in life than i did, bc my lack of understanding of how my brain works instilled so, so much shame in me. this was ofc because of the rhetoric teachers & family members threw at me while i was growing up (didn't do homework despite being "gifted"? Laziness. never cleaned room? Slob/Lazy. very subtle tantrums from overstim that i repressed so hard they looked like sullenness from the outside? Ungrateful or Rude. couldn't ever make friends? Shy, Awkward, Boring, Weird, Cold, Unfriendly, Unaccomodating.) and, you know. the shit ppl say in your formative years has a tendency to stick lmfaoooo so i'm still rooting that poison out, you know? so please, please ask me—and i'll say, much like transness, if you're wondering about this? probably the answer is yes, and that's honestly a wonderful fucking thing, 100% fully believe that. understanding myself in this way has saved my life, bc i know myself now and can now hold grace for myself and advocate for my needs.

this is SO long i'm sorry anyway hey anon if you got through this monster of a post, i LOVE you, you're doing so so good and i am handing you and orange and one of the very happy zinnias from my front yard <3 <3 <3

[hologramcowboy]

https://www.tumblr.com/hologramcowboy/704906462083858432/hi-idk-if-this-is-weird-but-i-saw-you-mentioned?source=share

//Post pictures of your ideal body in places you can easily see them. This includes your phone or laptop/pc wallpaper.

Move the treats and sweets some place where they are complicated to reach.//

I just need to comment, and I am trying to be respectful here, but these two pieces are really kind of... bad advice. I would NEVER recommend people post pictures of their "ideal bodies". That is very toxic and can have negative and devastating effects. Most people have unrealistic expectations and not being able to ever reach their "ideal body" can lead to anxiety, depression, among other issues and most damaging - eating disorders. If you are constantly confronted by this "ideal body" on your phone, around your house, etc. that you can never reach? That can have long lasting effects on mental health. Everybody can't have every body. It's just not realistic. And I speak from not just personal experience, but from having friends, family, acquaintances that have gone through the same or very similar things (plus a psych degree but this was not my area of specialty so I don't pretend like I am an authority). While anon who sent the ask seems to have realistic expectations and isn't looking to lose weight specifically, they are not the only one reading your response. At a young age when I was in the best shape I will probably ever be in in my life I started this. I cut out pics of the "ideal body" I wanted, I saved them in a notebook for reference. I started dieting and exercising to try and reach that goal. I never could (I was a size 3 and very active and still never could). Then my eating disorders started shortly after. This was all in high school. 20+ years later I have done so much damage to my body I will probably never know the extent of it. It is a very quick and slippery slope from "this is what I want to look like" to depression and disordered eating. I know my case is not universal, but it is also far more common than people want to admit. My best friend growing up, and at that time when this was all starting, actually was going through the same thing at the same time and I didn't know. I found out a few years later that we both had been struggling through the same thing but that's a longer story for another time. The point is, you should work out for your own mental and physical health, not to get an "ideal body" because you will never reach that goal and you will never be happy with it. If you work out for health benefits then the aesthetic changes are just an added bonus. It's also more sustainable when you aren't trying to work out simply to look a certain way. When you are doing it all for looks then you tend to get much more easily discouraged and many even give up (or go to extremes mentioned above). This was a hard learned lesson.

And about the food comment - first of all, no food is inherently "good" or "bad", we assign them those designations and stigmatize food which is also very detrimental. Yes some foods are more nutrient dense and healthier/better for you but eating a fast food burger is better than eating nothing. In fact, there are studies that show that the way we perceive our food effects the way our bodies respond to those foods (specifically ghrelin aka the hunger hormone - just look up the "mind over milkshakes" experiment, here is a very simplified overview of it here but you can find longer more detailed reviews with more thorough explanations of the results). So labeling foods as "bad" can actually be more detrimental. And removing certain foods you love or enjoy actually tends to have the opposite effect. You then become out of control with those foods. For example, if you like ice cream but never let yourself eat it or keep it in the house because its "bad" then when you do finally have some you feel completely out of control with it and often overeat. Which can start a negative cycle of negativity towards yourself for "lack of self-control" when in reality, its the overabundance of control around food that causes that behavior. When I finally quit dieting I had this problem with so many foods that I never allowed myself. And in order to reverse this you just have to let yourself eat all the foods until they are no longer an issue. Now I always have ice cream in the house and I know I can eat it whenever I want. But you know what? I rarely do. So yes, "hiding bad foods" may seem like a good idea in the short term, it can actually make the way you handle and interact with those foods much worse in the future.

For anyone who wants more info on any of this there is a great and really entertaining book about it - it includes the milkshake study, The Minnesota Starvation Experiment, personal info, medical info, why you feel "addicted" to certain foods, etc. and it's honestly a funny read - its called "The F*ck It Diet" [website]

And this was not an accusation towards you, I find that many people don't realize or understand the impact that suggestions like these make. And as someone who struggled for 20+ years and only finally made it through about 1-2 years ago (I still struggle daily) I have a hard time biting my tongue when I read things like this. I WISH someone had said all these things to me back when it started. I wish I never tried to emulate a certain body type. I wish I realized that working out and eating for health and happiness will always be better than working out to obtain a certain body. Educating myself on nutrition, diet culture, exercise techniques, etc. has been so helpful and I wish I had all this info when young me thought if I just skipped the ice cream, if I just worked out for another hour, if I JUST ___ then I would be happy. My best advice if you want to start working out - explore your options, see what types of workouts you like and what you hate. The best workout you can do is the one you enjoy because its the one you are actually going to do. And I agree, start small. Don't overdo it out of the gate. Start trying new things and see what works for you and your body. For example I can't run because I have a bad knee but I love to take long walks. I also enjoy strength training but yoga is really not my jam. Finding what you like is honestly the best first step.

Sorry for the rant (and I hope it didn't feel like a lecture), its just something that I am very invested in and passionate about and don't want to see people go down the road I went.

@ anon thank you for pointing that out but I feel I must inform you that I never used the word bad in association to food within my post. Plus the advice I gave was also advice I got from my ex trainer. Putting away treats helps avoid overeating, notice I never mentioned you shouldn't indulge or ever labeled any food as bad. I've added a clarification to that suggestion since it seems you assumed something intensely toxic based on a simple suggestion of making treats harder to reach.

The idea behind that is making them difficult to reach will have you think twice on whether you truly need to have that treat or not. If you leave sweets readily available they can become an environmental cue and you're more likely to over eat.

Over eating sweets and less than ideal foods can cause health issues over time, needless to say so I disagree with you, I think the way you set up the kitchen is highly important as you can either create a harmonious, healthy environment or you can so create an environment where over eating and consuming unhealthy foods comes much easier. Again food affects your body directly so I think placing things carefully is important. This doesn't mean denying yourself things, it means focusing on being balanced.

If, for example, you consume a lot of Coca Cola and similar drinks don't expect to lose weight or have an improvement in health. You can absolutely enjoy it but in a balanced way to avoid damaging your health and packing on a lot of weight very fast.

Not to mention sugar in general is extremely damaging to health, there's a reason professionals recommend consuming it very little.

As for the priming part, I've also amended that though I never said people should compare their bodies or anything like that, that's toxic. I said use images to prompt your mind to remember to exercise but I suppose I did fail to add details so I've added a little explanation with that. Priming pertains to NLP and is far from toxic. But you're right, if someone approaches weight loss in a highly toxic way they can absolutely use images to their detriment just as they can use any specific weight loss aspect to their detriment and create a self sabotage circle. This is why it's important to approach weight loss only after fully accepting and loving your body as it is. Dieting doesn't work because the focus isn't on increasing well being, it's on making your current body wrong and fighting that. Whereas the anon had a very healthy approach, they appreciate their body as it is and only want to get fitter, they are looking to enhance their wellbeing.

Also, there's absolutely nothing wrong with setting goals as long as they are realistic and as long as the focus is on wellbeing.

Seems like you had a lot of hardship regarding weight loss so I appreciate you sharing your perspective as I am sure a lot of people can relate.

As for eating disorders, it's important to investigate the mother-daughter link first and foremost as those issues stem from trauma within that bond.

Sorry if I made no sense but I couldn't sleep last night and I am fairly tired this morning. 😴

[cartooncadet666]

Damn, Skeebo got more b*tches than Shawn Mendez ever had-

I counted each love interest in other aus, 15 love interests in total, however 9 are actually loved, no one likes the other 6 for a reason idk why- So here are the top 9 in my opinion! Starting from 9 which is the bottom of the list.

9. Raphael/ Pac-Human AU: Pac-Humans are literally Pac-Worlders with a human body but they have the same skin color and magical like features. Raphael is a caramel-colored ghost with various white scratches on his body, (his body type is similar to Inky's) his favorite thing to do is being annoying, spooking people, and teasing Skeebo. He's way too clingy though.

8. Danny/ Demonic AU: The AU where Pac-Worlders are either ghosts, monsters, or demons. Danny was another yellow one that died during a ghost attack from Lord Stratos. (That's so weird to say-) He met Skeebo when he finished attacking the Round House, in this au, Skeebs was a Loverman, commonly know as the more poisonous version of Incubus. Danny has the same weird jealous energy that Pinky has except less extreme.

7. Robin/ Humanity AU: Where everyone is officially a human. Robin used to be a shy nerd at his middle school, and he knew Skeebs, he had a MAJOR crush on him. When he came to Maze High, he tried changing everything about him to impress Skeebo, but in the end, he reverted back to being nerdy since he got so comfortable near him.

6. Floyd/ Amnesia AU: The AU where Skeebo lost his memories. During the time, Floyd was a kawaii rival that absolutely hated Skeebo but he started falling for him when he started revealing a lot about himself. Their relationship stayed the same even after Skeebo gained his memories back from the experience, even if Skeebo didn't remember much from when he had amnesia, he did remember the heartfelt moments with Floyd.

5. Luka/ Outed AU: The AU where main characters struggled with revealing secrets. Luka was the son of a famous female author who was known for her beautiful and wise novels. He suffered from the judgements of the older generations, Luka doesn't like anyone who shows discrimination, he fell in love with Skeebo because of his grumpiness, he found it adorable!

4. Cisco/ Suicidal AU: (YES, SOMEONE SHIPPED THEM) Cisco being the first son of Specter Boltz and Betrayus Spheros is going to soon be the Nether Realm lord. At first he found Skeebo interesting since his ghost body was related to the revealing ghost species, Emoti, but he started falling for him because of the joy he got from being a ghost in the Nether Realm. Their ship dynamic is Hurt Being x Mr. Comfort. If he met our number one, he would get really overprotective and 'territorial' of the blonde bully we know.

3. Mason/ Demon Bait AU: The AU where Lasko, the demon realm under the Nether Region exists. Mason Praida is the demon prince of a powerful golden species named Enei, he was sent to Pac-Opolis to retrieve a gift for his forced-lover, the "gift" was something he kept to himself, Skeebo was the only Pac-person Mason felt understood by, their canon dynamic: Flirty x Angry Flustered. My favorite ship dynamic! 😂

2. Chako/ Sweet and Sour AU: The AU of a cultural Pac-Worlder who speaks with spirits. Chako Aishi Aikawa is the son of a well known doctor and family therapist, and he always strived to please his parents. When he moved to Maze High, surprisingly Skeebo was very kind towards him, just like Luka, he finds it cute when Skeebo gets grumpy, and he's able to calm him. Their ship dynamic is Person w/feelings x Hasn't fallen yet.

1. (MY MOST FAVORITE, even if I made Chako and Mason, he's my number one always.) Bradley/ MMH AU: @xeo-kunsatan Is the owner of this beautiful young man, Bradley Spheros is the ALIVE son of Betrayus, he's a chill guy, but he can snap at any second. Before, he and Skeebo had a sort of 'rivals to lovers' relationship before it turned into 'Cuddles and Respect.' Bradley is my favorite since he's very empathetic and related to Skeebo in some levels, they're just perfect! 💕💕💕

That's my list of top 9 Skeebo lovers, I made Chako and Mason but I love Bradley a lot more than I do with them I'm sorry XD. I don't know why the top 9 are ALL MALES, but hey, maybe Skeebo is looking for more variation. They're all listed into 3 categories

Villain-Based Sweethearts: Mason, Bradley, Cisco. (Demon Prince, Nether Prince, Bad*ss son)

Love-sick Dorks: Danny, Raphael, Robin (Dead yellow one, silly dummy, flustered hidden nerd)

Cute and Affectionate: Chako, Floyd, Luka (Mexican-Japanese Bean, Mr. Kawaii, Soft boy writer)

What's your favorite category and what's your main ship, they're all cute in some way <3

[urmom-101s-posts]

Chapter 1:

They always tell you that high school sweethearts don’t last, which may be true but technically he wasn’t in high school, so I decided to take the leap and fall for him.

It started in August of my senior year. The night before the first day I was running around my house trying to get everything together. I needed this year to be perfect. The last three were awful, and this was my last year to have a picture perfect high school experience. I laid my outfit out, took a shower, did my hair, and when I was finished I checked the clock and it read 1:27 a.m. I was basically done preparing so I set my alarm and went to bed.

I woke up to the sunlight peaking through my blinds. I rolled over and checked my phone. 8:36 a.m.

“Fuck.” i sighed.

I hurriedly got ready, hopped in my car, and rushed to the school.

“nice of you to join us.” turned from the board to face me at the door.

“I’m so sorry Mr.” I looked down at the schedule trying to find his last name.

“Davis.” he replied answering for me.

“I am so sorry I overslept-“ i say getting cut off by Mr. Davis once again.

“I don’t want excuses, please just take your seat.” he sternly spoke.

I walked over to an open seat by my friends Kameron, Emily, and Amelia.

“where were you?” Kameron turned back to ask.

“I overslept and-“ I try speaking but get cut off once again.

“Ladies, if you’re going to keep interrupting my class you can do it in the front office, and you ms.?” he looks at me like im supposed to answer a question.

“y/l/n.” I reply.

“Well Ms. y/l/n, stop interrupting my classroom. This isn’t a great start to the year for you.” He spoke while turning back to face the board.

For the rest of the hour I kept my head down and tried as much as possible to keep my eyes on the ground. So when the bell rang i couldn’t get out of the class fast enough.

“y/n can you stay after for a moment.” Mr. Davis requested.

I obliged.

“yes Mr. Davis?” I was praying I wouldn’t get in trouble.

“Today is forgotten. I understand things happen, but don’t make this a constant happening.” he says sternly look right through me.

I know this is incredibly inappropriate to say out loud or even think, but he was extremely attractive. He was wearing a black shirt and khaki colored pants, his hair was buzzed and he had a scruff beard with gray’s and white’s mixed all throughout. He wasn’t very tall, but he was taller than me, looked to be about 5’8 maybe 5’9 on a good day. He looked like a human embodiment of a teddy bear. Looked so sweet, but had an angrier side like an actual bear.

“you’re free to leave.” his words broke me out of my thoughts.

As I walked out I saw Kameron, Emily, and Amelia all waiting for me.

“what happened?” they all asked in unison.

“He basically just told me that I can’t be late to his class anymore and he won’t count this one against me.” i replied.

As we walked our different ways to our classes, my thoughts went right back to Mr. Davis, and he stayed constant in my thoughts for the rest of the day.

After school I walked out to my car with a couple of my friends. We had plans to go back to my house and do our homework, but when he walked out, I took my chance.

“Mr. Davis?” he doesn’t answer. “Mr.Davis, Sir?” he stops right in his tracks and turns around to face me.

“yes?” he replies chipperly.

The way he responded to sir sent shivers down my body.

“Are you busy? I just wanted to know if there was any way I could set up tutoring sessions? I’m usually a little behind in math, so i’m hoping i can get a head start.” I asked.

“uh I’m running behind for an appointment.” he walks closer and reaches in his pocket for something to write on.

“Here is my number,” he says jotting it down with the pen he had resting behind his ear. “text me and we can set something up.” he hands me the slip of paper and walks away to his car.

“oh my fucking god!” I quietly scream to myself.

I practically skipped back to my car with excitement. Before my friends and I went back to my house we stopped by Dairy Queen to get some ice cream.

[jasmariswonderland]

A little late, but it’s finally done! Here is Heloise’s birthday interview! 💚

~~~

Yuulan: Happy Birthday, Heloise! 

Heloise: Thank you, Yuulan. That’s your name, yes?

Y: It is. How are you enjoying your birthday? Any greetings that have left an impression on you?

H: Everyone in my dorm was very enthusiastic in wishing me well today. Sebek in particular was very happy when he found out today was my birthday. And of course, Vidaria was very warm and sincere in her wishes as well. She helped me get ready for today’s party and even lent me one of her necklaces to wear today. Since this is my first time celebrating my birthday away from home, she says she wants it to be as special as can be!

Y: That’s so sweet, any other gifts that have stuck out to you today?

H: Hmmm, well I’ve received many wonderful gifts today that it would be hard to pick just one! But if I had to pick, I’d say the telescope my father sent me. Stargazing is something of a hobby for me but I don’t get much of a chance to do that at school So I’m very happy with it. Especially since there’s going to be an eclipse two nights from now!

~~~

Y: You’ve mentioned your interest in astronomy and gazing at the stars, but could you share with us some of your other hobbies?

H: There are a lot of things I like to do. But besides stargazing, I really enjoy traveling and personal training. Since I’m preparing to serve the Draconias when I graduate, it’s very important to me that I’m well versed in many skills so I can be the best retainer I can. 

Y: What does your training usually look like?

H: My father is a Briar Valley diplomat and before enrolling in this school, I would often travel with him on his official duties around Twisted Wonderland. Even though these were technically work trips, I’ve learned so much about life outside the fae world and I want to continue broadening my horizons with more travel in the future. I also study multiple languages, physical combat, and magic of course. 

Y: Earlier today, I noticed you tending to a very pretty raven, you seemed to be talking to it. Is animal linguistics one of your skills?

H: Hehe, you might be surprised to hear this but that’s actually one of my worst subjects! But the raven you saw me tending to was Igraine, she’s my magical familiar. 

Y: Oh? Like Professor Trein’s cat?

H: Exactly. You see, the connection between magic users and their familiars is unlike that between pet and master, it’s much closer. Though I’m not good at communicating with other animals, Igraine and I have a special bond that allows me to communicate with her. Kind of like with you and Grim. 

Y: *laughs* Well, I’m not sure if I’d really call Grim a familiar since I can’t use magic, but we have a nice connection I guess. 

~~~

Y: How does it feel to be back at Night Raven College?

H: I’m very glad to be back in school! When I couldn’t return right away at the beginning of the school year, I was very upset even though I was recovering from illness. Back home, I was extremely restless to resume school life. That may sound weird but here at NRC, I can spend time with Vidaria and Lilia and be with the other friends I’ve made here. As much as I love Briar Valley, the atmosphere there can be very constricting. And I’ve had many experiences here that I normally wouldn’t have at home. 

Y: Speaking of which, what has been one of your most memorable experiences here at school?

H: Ohhh, definitely playing in the interdorm spelldrive tournament last year! I remember going to a spelldrive game with my father a few years before I enrolled in NRC. It left such an impression on me that I began learning the sport as soon as I got home. I would practice with the castle guards sometimes and when I came to school and found out there was a tournament held between all the dorms, I immediately signed up! I really enjoyed playing with my dorm mates, even if Malleus did most of the work in securing Diasomnia’s victory. 

Y: Diasomnia won again this year too. 

H: I’m not surprised! I really wish I could have been there too! But the first thing I did once I returned to NRC was rejoin the spelldrive club. Leona-san doesn’t really get along with my other dormmates, but he said he was glad to have me back. Even though I’m on the smaller side, I’m swift on my broom, my wits are sharp and my spells are always precise! There’s a freshman on our team this year, he’s around the same size as me and I’ve been giving him pointers on how to be a stronger player even while being short. 

Y: I’m sure Epel appreciates that. And will you be playing against RSA at the interschool tournament coming up soon?

H: You bet I will! I couldn’t last year and this might be an arrogant thing to say but I’m fully confident the only reason RSA won was because of my absence! But just wait until my teammates and I step on the field this year, victory will finally be ours if I have any say in it! 

Y: I’m looking forward to that! Thank you for sharing all of that with us, and once again, happy birthday! 

[skzsauce01]

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’  are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.  

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (Part 3)

There were a lack of stuff to read so I posted this instead.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

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PART 3

The next day was weird to say the least for everyone but for Marinette, it was another can of worms that she wished she didn’t open. For one thing, Chat Noir’s feelings obsession for Ladybug switched from one black-haired girl to another which unfortunately was Ladybug’s civilian form. Which meant Marinette had to deal with Adrien’s Chat-Noir-level flirting and bad pick-up lines.

Perfect, just perfect.

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Everyone thought that a declaration speech of ‘being soulmates and the only one for him’ in front of the whole class from the ‘love of your life’ would warrant a ‘blushing to death and stammering’ or ‘outright fainting’. Not a facepalm, a groan, “Why me?” and a “I am sorry but NO. I don’t feel the same way about you”. Marinette vaguely wondered if there was some kind of rule for interesting events and confrontations to happen during lunch break while the class waits for Mme Bustier to start the lessons.

Marinette went to sit in her seat next to Chloe in the back row where she and her friends had been exiled to. The class was in stunned silence and questioning about whether or not they had fallen into an alternate universe or dreaming. Nathaniel and Alix tried to hide their snickers. Chloe just started outright laughing, turning very red in the face.

Marinette felt a nudge from Plagg in her bag. Looking down, she saw them holding up her phone to show Lila’s gaping face of horror with a wicked smug grin on their face. She looked through the photos to see everyone’s faces of confusion and shock at her rejection. Eyes wide and jaws dropped on the ground. Different shots of her classmates in the same state. She smirked and showed them to Chloe who calmed down enough, letting out the occasional giggles and took the phone with glee.

“Thank you, Plagg. Here you go.” she whispered, giving them a camembert macaron.(Tom had started experimenting with camembert in his recipes. Plagg is his first taste tester for all of them, making Tom one of Plagg’s favourite people.)

Adrien didn’t take the rejection very well.

“But we are meant to be. You are a designer and I am a model. Our partnership is the one to be envied by many for the ages.”

“And by that logic,” The designer turned to her main model for her MDC website, “Chloe, my love, will you be my one and only? For our love shines so bright ,paralleled only by a thousand suns.” Using the same voice Plagg does when they go on one of their love odes about camembert before losing her straight face and giggling.(Plagg doesn’t know whether to be offended or amused.)

Setting Chloe’s laughter off again. “Mariiiii,...stop….I can’t..*gasps*....I can’t…”

Nathaniel and Alix, finally lost control and joined Chloe in death by laughter. Adrien was flustered, turning red in the face either from anger, embarrassment or both.

“But Chloe isn’t a model.”

Marinette decided to put a stop to this, just on the off chance that Gabriel finally decides to akumatized his own son. She recomposed herself.

“She is the main model for my website and we have a partnership. You, however, work for your father. So does Miss Rossi. Does that sound like the partnership to be envied by many for the ages? Hmmm, Agreste? Anyways, like I said before, I have no interest in dating you.”

“Why not? We are friends and sometimes, friends like each other enough to date each other.” Adrien angrily asked.

“Because-”

“Because, Adrikins,” Chloe cuts in, “friends having to date because one of them is interested in something more makes no sense and is fucked-up. Marinette doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, she already has a long distance boyfriend who lives in America.”

“WHAT!?” Adrien shouted.

“What?!” The class had snapped out of their stupor. Since when had Marinette gotten over Adrien and had a boyfriend?

“What?” Marinette looked at Chloe with wide-eyes. Last she checked she was still single so what the hell was Chloe playing at. For Kwami’s sake, she hadn’t been on a date since the one with Luka which went awkwardly before they agreed that they think of each other as siblings and it will be best to stay that way.

Chloe gave her a look that said ‘I will explain later.’

“Oh yes, they met online a few months ago and now they are all lovey-dovey together. It’s just so ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous how disgustingly in love they are. They have video call dates at least once a week and somehow make it work despite the time differences. He once came all the way to Paris just to see her. He brought her some special flowers that apparently meant-”

Marinette slapped her hand over Chloe’s mouth. “Well, Chloe, Queenie, as much as I love you as my friend, you can stop gushing about my love life now. Because class is about to start.”

She said through gritted teeth as Mme Bustier finished taking her sweet time and walked in. Sadly, Alya wasn’t done with the conversation ,“Wait a minute, since when did Chloe and you become close enough that she is modeling for you? And a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me, Girl? I thought we were friends. What about Adrien, he just confessed to you and you had been crushing on him for so long” Many girls gasped, angry that Alya broke the unspoken girl code.

“You have a crush on me?” Adrien looked hopeful. Like a lost kitten that had been stuck in the rain, was let into someone’s home.

“I had a crush on you,” Marinette corrected him, emphasising on the past tense, “and Alya had no business of sharing that information to the entire world despite us not being friends anymore.” She glared at the journalist who at least looked ashamed.

“You wanted to date Kagami so I moved on.”

One of the reasons anyway. I found out that you were my partner who had no concept of boundaries. You are a coward who only wants to maintain the class peace at the price of my mental health, she thought.

“Instead of continuing to pursue you.” She hoped the ever dense and oblivious model would get the hint she gave him. Tikki ,just this once, Grant me that ladybug luck.

“And Mme Bustier, it is time to start the lessons, don’t you think? Instead of focusing on the class drama to gossip about later on.” Marinette glared at the teacher, reminding her to do her job.

“Oh. Right.” Mme Bustier tried to regain her ‘perfect teacher’ image after getting embarrassed at being caught, “Right. Class, turn to page-”

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As soon as the bell rang for the end of school, Marinette dragged Chloe all the way to her room. Alix and Nathaniel followed them because as far as they know, Marinette had no boyfriends and they were as curious to find out what scheme Chloe had cooked up this time. They were as complicated and crazy as Ladybug’s. No offense, Marinette.

“Okay, Queenie, you have to explain why I now have a devoted American boyfriend who I am so in love with.” Marinette crossed her arms with a frown aimed at Chloe. The kwamis got out of their respective hiding places and went to the tray of food set out for them.

The trapdoor to her room opened, revealing the rest of their friend group before Chloe said anything.

“Did we miss anything?” Kagami asked as Longg and Sass joined the other kwamis.

“Juleka said something about an American boyfriend and how he sounds so romantic. Does that have to do anything with the text Alix sent us to come here?” Luka added.

“To recap, Adrien made a love confession to Marinette,” Alix started, biting into some of the delicious pastries the Dupain-Chengs gave them, ”in front of the entire class after an entire day of flirting and bad pick-up lines.”

“Wow, even after having his memories erased of being Chat Noir, he is still after Ladybug.” Luka chuckled, with the others joining in.

Marinette whined, “It was easier when he was Chat Noir. But now as Adrien Agreste, teen heartthrob, it is going to be much more difficult to get into his thick head that I don’t see him that way and it is going to get harder, now that Alya outed my old crush to him.”

“Oof. Sucks to be you.”

“So, our Mari-bug rejected him. He threw a tantrum and sulked, so like Chat Noir, how did we not notice?,” Alix continued, “After demanding reasons why they can’t date, Chloe gave Marinette an American boyfriend who she was in a long-distance relationship with. Speaking of, why did you do that?”

“I have known Adrik- Adrien since we were in diapers and I know how that mangy cat works. He grew up on Disney and had all those fairytales stuffed into his head. If you had told him that you were just not interested in dating at the moment, it won’t work because he will try his hardest to ‘woo’ you, because he still has a chance. He won’t push his luck as much if you were off the market.” Chloe explained.

“I am sure that, judging by the fact that Chat Noir still tries to date Ladybug despite her saying she is in love with someone, Adrien might try to get more proof of this boyfriend to make sure Marinette is just not pretending to have one.” Kagami pointed out.

“Ahh, but luckily I have a back-up plan. I have a friend, Tim Drake. We met at a few galas when we were younger and kept in touch. He also owes me a favor.”

“I hope this Tim Drake is cute.”

“He is and he’s older than you by two years and,” Chloe typed something on her phone, “A fellow caffeine addict so you can bond over that. Here’s a picture of him and his brother.”

On her phone were two extremely attractive and fit young men dressed in expensive suits at what looked like a gala, the older one had a charming polite smile with bright blue eyes, looking somewhat interested at what someone off-screen was saying despite looking like he will fall over any moment. His brother, however, looked like he would rather be anywhere but where he was. He was tanned and had green eyes that promised murder for daring to even breathe in his direction. Marinette noticed that he looked a little familiar but she can’t place why.

“Tim is the one that looks like he hasn’t slept in days and that’s his brother Damian next to him.”

“Wait a minute. That’s Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. The sons of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire co-CEO of Wayne Industries, which Tim Drake is also co-CEO of.” Nathaniel said with wide eyes and looked at Chloe, “You are using your favor to give our Mari here a fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, only the best for our Mari-bug.”

“Chloe, no, he is probably busy as he is with running the company. No need to get him involved in petty teenage drama.” No matter how much she doesn’t want to date Adrien, bothering a busy guy to be her fake boyfriend is not worth it in Marinette’s opinion. Which, of course, gets overruled by the overprotectiveness of her friends.

“I, for one, think this is one of Chloe’s better plans.” Kagami commented, the others agreeing with her. Traitors.

“Hey!” Chloe exclaimed, an offended look on her face, “Anyways, I will call him later.”

“Children, you better go home now before your parents worry.” Sabine’s voice came from below, “Remember we are also going through some drills tonight so try not to be late.” Having a former assassin for a mother is handy when you want to train a team of teenage superheroes.

“Bye, guys. See you later.”

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“Just because you have been trained since birth does not excuse you from the drills. You also need to get used to the black cat.” Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ reprimanded her with her arms crossed. When Ladybug started her new team, she was the first permanent member but as the team got bigger, she stepped back to be back-up and mentor for the team.

“Yes, Maman, I know but I am nearly finished with this commission. I will catch up with you later. Promise.” Marinette stretched, looking up from her latest project. Plagg was napping in the little basket she had made for all the kwamis to sleep in which fit all of them and had some extra space for Nooroo and Dusuu after they had been retrieved.

The reason she had Plagg instead of Tikki who was with Alix was because of the new tactic the Miraculous Team came up with. To keep the balance the Ladybug and Black Cat must be active at the same time but with Adrien gone, someone must wield the ring until a new permanent holder is found and it was not a good idea for both of them to be on the same person at the same time. The team decided to rotate using the earrings and ring between them with Marinette using other miraculouses when the others have them. It also had the added bonus of making it harder for Hawkmoth to find out who has them at any given time.

“See you later, 灵儿 (líng er, means intelligence). I will give you 15 minutes but that’s it. Don’t be late.” Sabine sighed and got out the skylight and went towards the safehouse where the Miraculous team met to get training. (It is one of Sabine’s emergency safehouse to use in times of emergency and it had the required space to train 6 teenagers. Chat Noir never came to training, lazy cat.)

Marinette never made it to the warehouse.

Because a few minutes after her mother left, the skylight opened to let in five figures dressed in dark colours to easily blend into the shadows like they were trained to be. Too bad they weren’t as quiet. Marinette immediately summoned a bo-staff to defend herself.

One of them lunged at her and she retaliated by hitting the end of her staff to their middle, coupled with a couple more blows and landed one that knocked them out. The others threw throwing stars which she dodged by jumping back. Which landed her to be trapped by the two assassins, whom she didn’t notice, had moved. She cursed in every language she knew as she struggled against them. It led to no avail as she was badly out-numbered. There was a prick on her head and her world went black.

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Plagg awoke to a loud commotion. Irritated, they poked their head out to see their new temporary kit knocked out, tied up and hauled away. Recognizing the kidnappers as assassins of the League of Shadows, they scowled. Ra’s Al Ghul was going to pay.

Plagg may not act like it much but the black kwami was patient and smart. Smart enough to leave a note with an explanation somewhere visible with the messy aftermath of a fight before trailing the assassins. Oh, Roarr’s tiger was going to be pissed once she found out what happened. Wherever they were taking Marinette, it would be best to have a kwami of destruction to help her escape. The night made Plagg almost invisible and allowed to move unseen. They caught up easily and hid in their holder’s midnight hair. Now, their patience came into play. It was a matter of waiting for the right moment to pounce.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop

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(Part 4)