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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Ashtray Part 4 - D.M

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This is Part 4 of my Draco Malfoy Mini Series, please read parts 1, 2, and 3.

Warnings: swearing, smoking, mention of food and eating.

“Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.” Snape’s voice echoed in the back of your mind whilst you flicked through your Romeo and Juliet GCSE muggle study materials, forgetting about charms, divination, and hexes, and learning about Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men instead.

The spring breeze brushed against your tender neck and cheek, causing your hair to blow out of place, the pages in your books flicking over, your bookmark sliding out of the crook and onto the grass.

Sighing, with a cigarette clamped between your lips in the corner of your mouth, you quickly grabbed on to your book, trying to find the page you were on, battling against the strong and unsteady breeze which started to resemble a billion hands, trying to push you away all at once.

Reaching the page you were on, you picked up your bookmark and shoved it back into the crook, sucking on your cigarette and inhaling, you stuffed the books into your bag and rested your head against the giant birch tree you pressed your back up against, looking up at the long, thick branches that welcomed new leaves and blossoming flowers.

“Are you bloody mental?” A familiar voice called out, footsteps stomping towards you.

Choking on your breath, you spluttered, the cigarette shooting out of your mouth and onto the grass, the wind blowing it away before you could pick it up or put it out.

The group of footsteps got closer and then stopped, you stared at the familiar mucky and well-worn shoes that stood out next to the shiny pointed flats in perfect condition, looking up, you were faced with Ron and Hermione.

Feeling your heart drop in your stomach and bracing yourself for another lecture, you continued to stare at them, darting from one pair of eyes to another.

“What do you want?” you sighed, too tired to argue, too drained to explain yourself all over again.

Ron squinted at you “leaving Hogwarts just as you’re about to start your O.W.Ls, Y/N, have you gone mad?”

Your heart started to pound, your stomach suffering fatal blows with each heavy beat.

“It’s nothing to do with you” you replied “I told you that last week!”

Hermione held Ron back from losing his temper, flashing him a look and pulling him behind her. She looked down at your book filled bag and pouted for a moment, pondering her thoughts.

“But why?”

But why? are you kidding me!

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and laughed lightly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder as you got to your feet.

“You’re a smart girl, Hermione.” you glared “don’t ask stupid questions.”

Turning away from her and walking away in the other direction, Ron pushed past his girlfriend and grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling you back, his other hand gripping the wand in his pocket tightly.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

“No!” You raised your voice “It’s alright, I’ll give you what you bloody want.” You snatched your wrist away from Ron and pushed him away from you, almost causing him to fall onto the grass.

Hermione tried to speak, so did Ron but the fire burning in your stomach became uncontrollable and the embers that flew off spread around your body like wildfire.

Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and his other cronies strolled down the path towards the lake, your raised voice catching their attention and pulling them into the spider web you were accidentally forming around you.

“I fell in love with Draco and he happened to already like me back!” you yelled “I got to know him better than anyone, better than Pansy, better than Blaise, better than Snape!”

Hermione still tried to speak, but only managed to stutter.

“That lad has been treated like shit by his father, he has been forced to do terrible things he didn’t want to do, he was never given a choice and still can’t decide what he wants to do with his own life for himself!”

The fire in your stomach shot up and travelled past your ribs, Draco’s mouth hung wide open, his heart pumping like it never had before in his life, Pansy stared at him out of the corner of her eye.

“He isn’t a death eater by choice! I am not a death eater for helping him gain the courage he so desperately needs to break away from the poison in his life!” you walked towards Hermione and Ron, your index finger pointing at them. “I didn’t decide to fall in love with him, it just happened, I could smell his green apples in my bloody love potion, he could smell my fucking cigarettes!”

You inched closer and closer, now trembling with fury.

“Is this true, Draco?” Pansy snapped, staring at him in horror.

“Well don’t just stare at it, what can you smell?” Snape droned on at you, gliding down the empty classroom.

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard, allowing the scent of green apples and expensive shoe polish to engulf your senses, drowning you.

The scent pulled you away from reality and forced you to relive the picnic with Draco, the perfectly sliced green apples sitting on a plate before you were pulled from that moment and thrust into his arms as the two of you danced slowly and silently in the dark and empty courtyard, his expensive shoes shining in the moonlight, the smell of his shoe polish breaking out into the cold air.

You cleared your throat “I can smell Draco, Professor.” taking a deep breath you opened your eyes and stared into Snape’s pits of darkness “I can smell the green apples he eats, and the expensive shoe polish his dad buys for him.”

The corner of Snape’s mouth curled into a rare smile - a sign of approval rather - Snape’s hand rested on your desk, his eyes focusing hard on your cauldron.

“I want you to hold up your bag” he ordered, watching as you did so “and I want you to take out your Marlboro Cigarettes.”

You felt the air get snatched out of your lungs as you were pulling out the exact cigarette brand.

“How did you-”

“When I asked Malfoy what he could smell” Snape paused for a moment, the corner of his mouth curling upwards even more “he pulled a disapproving face and said the same cigarettes in your hands; Draco could smell you.”

“I had no idea that Harry had feelings for me, he never hinted at such a thing, he never told me, and when you thought I was becoming Mrs Malfoy with a burning desire to pledge allegiance to Voldemort-” you bit down hard on your tongue, having never said his name out loud “before I had a chance to explain everything, you publicly shunned me! the whole of Hogwarts shunned me!”

Hermione and Ron’s faces dropped, other students passing by stopped and stared at you, listening in to every word that flew out of your mouth, Harry could hear everything as he ran towards you, his scar prickling, nausea polluting his system, the vision as clear as day in his mind.

“I can’t eat in the great hall - I have to sit with the bloody house-elves in the kitchens! I can’t go into my own common room, or sleep in my own fucking bed!” Your yelling turned into loud screeches, your throat incredibly raw and sore as if you had swallowed the worlds tiniest razor blades.

Harry reached closer and closer towards you all, panting, desperate to catch his breath and spill everything he had just witnesses, the hairs standing up on his back, fear consuming him and guilt suffocating him.

“Everyone hates me! I hesitated for one moment when Draco asked if I were to choose him over you, my best friends, and when I said it wouldn’t come to that, he shunned me too!”

Tears filled Hermione’s eyes, making her vision go glassy, mirroring you, she had never felt so guilty and wrong in her whole life. Harry fell to his knees, gasping for air and pulling on Ron’s sleeve, trying to speak, gasping as he babbled.

“He’s coming-”

“Harry, take deep breaths mate, I can’t understand what you’re saying”

Breaking out of your rant, you noticed everyone circled around you and watching everything unfold in the distance, Draco stood and stared at you, his heart clawing through his bones and flesh to pull you into his arms where you belonged, but his head cursing you and seeing nothing but red for exposing his vulnerabilities to his peers.

“So now you all know why I’m leaving!” you yelled, addressing everyone, getting on your tiptoes, your arms stretched out as you spun around in a circle “and the best news is that I’m leaving earlier than expected!”

“He’s going to attack-” Harry gasped whilst Ron rubbed his back, concern splashed upon his face, trying to put the pieces together.

“Y/N, we’re sorry!” Hermione cried out, her voice shaking.

“No!” you yelled “you’re not! none of you are!” turning your back to everyone you took off in the other direction, your throat burning like your stomach, your eyes stinging from the tears “and after tomorrow it won’t matter!” you yelled again “I’ll be gone when the morning comes!”

Storming off, your bag bounced and bashed against your back, the heaviness of the books pushing you along with each slam, you could feel Draco’s icy grey eyes carve holes into your spine, your heart yearning out and crying for him.

but it didn’t matter anymore, you were moving on with your life and so would he.

“He’s going to attack her-” Harry gasped, finally catching his breath.

“Who-”

“Voldemort-”

“Who is he going to attack? Hermione-”

“No!” Harry shook his head, burying his hands into the grass, pulling on it, everyone now staring at him “Voldemort is going to attack Y/N!”

Draco’s world stopped, his grey eyes focused on Harry - as Harry’s green eyes that belonged to his mother looked back at the lad he hated with every ounce of his being.

“We need to help her” Harry stressed “both of us.”

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

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Field of Poppies Part 27

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 27: Someone from Amelia's past returns and causes a stir. Tommy begins to make himself known to people even in London

TW: Discussion of past rape/assault

It was a startling cold fall. Amelia felt the chill in her bones and she couldn’t entirely blame it on the weather. Tommy had successfully distanced himself from her and she was feeling the effects deep in her heart. The man she had married was gone. It was something that she forced herself to reckon with.

There was another thing she had to reckon with come October when a chill was starting to form in the air.

Luckily, it was Martha who intercepted him before he came into the betting shop. What was even luckier was Arthur and Tommy were gone on business in London.

She came over to find Amelia helping out with the books for the day. “Mel, there’s a man at the window asking for you.”

“Who is it?” She hardly looked up from the ledger, too consumed with work. It had become one of two outlets she had. Working in the shop and tending to the children.

The pregnant woman shrugged. “Said he knew you. Said he came from London.”

That caused to Amelia lift her head. There were few people she knew from London who knew she was in Birmingham. “Was he older?” She feared maybe her mother had disclosed her location to her father.

“No, ‘bout your age I’d guess.”

That made Amelia even sicker to her stomach. “Thanks, Marty, I’ll handle it.” She stood up and went to the window.

Martha, sensing her sister-in-law’s uneasiness, followed close behind just in case.

Steven was the son of a wealthy banker and a socialite. He’d known nothing but luxury and excess. Rarely did people deny him.

As much as Amelia hated to admit it, Max did resemble him in a way. They had the same hazelnut-colored eyes and light brown hair. But she had blocked out most of that. She could separate her son from the monster who took advantage of her.

“Leave.” She snarled.

“Amelia, please if you just let me…”

“Let you what? Huh? You don’t deserve a second to explain anything.” She gripped the doorjamb, trying to maintain her composure.

“I’ve just come back from France. I did a lot of thinking over there. Your mother sent me a letter about seeing you. About what she found out.”

“She should’ve kept her mouth shut.” Amelia interrupted. “She had no right to tell you anything.”

“No right? How dare you not tell me about the pregnancy? I have an eight-year-old-”

Martha caught Amelia before she could lunge at the man.

“You have nothing!” She shouted. “You have no right to claim him as your own. Neither do my parents. You keep him out of your thoughts because you’ll never have anything to do with him. I’ll die before I let you near him.”

Undeterred by Amelia’s ferocious state, Steven continued. “I have every right as his father. You’ll have trouble if you keep him from me, Amelia!”

“You’re not his fucking father!”

“John!” Martha shouted back into the shop for her husband. She was having a difficult time reining Amelia in.

“He’ll know nothing of you. And you’ll never know him. You won’t even know his name. You go back to London and you never come back here again, do you hear me?”

John rushed over and separated everyone. He put himself between the two women and Steven. “Who’re you shouting at, mate?” He demanded.

“This isn’t any of your business.” Steven didn’t balk at the fresh-faced man stepping in.

“It is my fucking business. This is the Shelby shop and those women are Shelbys.”

“Typical. She returns to the slums and ends up with the likes of you.” He scoffed.

John’s eyes narrowed. It wouldn’t be wise to cut the man in front of other customers in broad daylight, even if he wanted to. “You stay here much longer and you’ll be sorry.”

“You must be one of the boys she ran the streets with. Did she whore herself out to you too or just the other one?”

Amelia tried to get back at him but couldn’t get past John.

“This family owns these streets. Soon enough we’ll be owning streets in London.” John threatened. “So, move along before you make things worse for yourself.”

“Do you know who the fuck I am?” Steven snapped.

“Your name don’t matter here. The only name that matters here is Shelby. And don’t fucking forget it.” He hissed. “Scudboat, get this bastard out of here.”

Amelia was shaking but Martha managed to get her to sit down. “I should’ve known. My mother has no problem going behind my back. That selfish, selfish, selfish woman.” She choked back a sob. The entire encounter had opened up old wounds.

“Deep breaths.” Martha coaxed.

“How dare he-he try to call himself a father. How dare he?” She ranted. “After everything, he did to me? He destroyed everything.”

“John’ll take care of it. He’ll call Tom and Arthur.” Martha assured her. “They’ll make sure he never comes back.”

Hot tears rolled down Amelia’s cheeks. “What if he takes Max from me?” She sobbed.

“That won’t happen.”

“His family is powerful, they have money. What if they go to the courts?”

John was leaning against the wall just in case Steven returned. “We’ve got money too, Mel.” He said gently although he was still angry too. Amelia was a sister to him and there was no way he was going to let a man speak to his sister in such a way. “He won’t be back if he knows what’s good for him.”

“John, why don’t you go try and call Tom?” Martha suggested.

He glanced out the window one more time before going into Arthur’s office to make the call.

“Will you check on Ada and the children?” Amelia asked her sister-in-law.

“Of course, you’ll be alright?”

“Yeah.”

Martha gave her a squeeze before going next door.

Amelia stood and made her way to Arthur’s office. She stood by the door so John couldn’t see her but she could hear him.

“Arthur, is Tom there?” John asked when his brother answered. There was a pause. “Tom, it’s John. Some bastard just came ‘round looking for Mel. Guess he’s Max’s well-yeah. Yeah, biological.” Another pause. “Scudboat took care of him. Well, guess he’s going back to London. That’s where Mel said he’s from. His car? Looked like an Austin. A sixty, maybe a fifty. Well, how should I know, Tom? He shouting at Mel and Martha, I didn’t ask for his fucking address.” John sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll see if they can catch up to him.” He hung up the phone and Amelia quickly moved away from the door.

John walked past her and called for Scudboat and a couple of other men. She watched as he handed the keys to the family car over and they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia didn’t hear from Tommy that night even though he planned on calling. The phone stayed silent on the hook. Martha came over to the flat to keep her company.

“Oof, I tell ya, this one is not easy.” The young woman held a hand to her lower back. “Abby and Wilbur were so easy. Thought it would be just as easy this time around.” She rubbed a hand over her stomach.

“Ask Polly for some remedy. She always knows what to do.” Amelia suggested. She was sitting on Annie’s bed across from her sister-in-law. The two were each braiding their daughter’s hair. Max was on the floor laying on his stomach as he toyed around with wooden soldiers with Wilbur.

Martha nodded. “Oh, Abby, your hair is so long.” She sighed. “I can’t believe how old you are sometimes.” She cooed and kissed her beloved daughter’s cheek.

“I’m big too, mummy, right?” Annie chirped.

“Very big.” Amelia smiled. “In a couple of years, you’ll be going to school like your brother and cousins.”

“School’s boring,” Max muttered from his spot on the carpet.

“Well, you need an education,” Amelia replied. “Someday you’ll thank us for that opportunity.”

“Finn says we don’t need school.” Wilbur piped up.

Martha and Amelia shared a guilty look. It had been such a misfortune that Finn couldn’t go to school when the boys were away at war. He had missed so much and now he felt he was old enough to decide if he went or not. Unfortunately, Tommy and the others agreed. They wanted to mold him into the next Blinder. The poor boy couldn’t even read.

“Sometimes it’s difficult to see that what we do now, although it’s hard or may not be fun, it will mean a lot to us in the future. You’ll be thankful for it, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~

Tommy returned home the next night, a day later than he originally promised. Amelia was finished tucking in the children when he came upstairs. They exchanged a kiss and Tommy put his bag on the bed.

“Are they asleep?” He asked.

“No, they’ll still be awake.” She answered.

He pecked her cheek again before going to say goodnight to Annie and Max.

While he did, Amelia began to unpack his bag and sort through the dirty and clean clothes. Inside, she found one of his white button-downs. Dried blood was splattered across the collar and sleeves.

She held the shirt in her hand for longer than she realized, just staring at the maroon-colored stains. There was no question in her mind whose blood it was.

The floor creaked behind her as Tommy returned. He saw her holding the shirt.

“Did you kill him?” She asked quietly.

“No.” He answered truthfully. “Just cut him. He won’t be around again.”

Amelia finally let go of the shirt. “What if he goes to the police?”

Tommy closed the bedroom door behind him before going to sit on the bed. “He won’t if he knows what’s good for him. He knows we won’t be in there for long. And when we come out…”

“You promised not to get nicked again.”

“What was I supposed to do?” He questioned. “He thinks he can come around her again demanding to see our son? We taught him a lesson. I’m not getting nicked for anything.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of him. It’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it?” He stood up and took her hand. “You don’t think I would go to prison defending you?”

“You hardly even look at me anymore.” She whispered. “I know you’re struggling, Tom, and that’s okay. I promised I would never abandon you. But don’t abandon your family because of some crusade you think you need to take on.”

“I won’t fucking let him near my family.”

“Then focus on your family.” Amelia challenged. “Stop pushing me away!”

“This again.” Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. “Every fucking conversation leads to this, Mel.”

“Because it’s been the same for weeks. I feel like you don’t even want to be around me anymore. You used to be my world, Tommy. I would wake up in the morning and you’d always be there. Every day you would be there. You were attentive and caring and so passionate. Now I-I don’t even know if you want me anymore.”

“I can’t apologize for changing,” Tommy muttered, letting go of her hand. “I can’t apologize for being forced into war and being broken down. I’m doing me best, Amelia. I don’t know what more you can ask from me. You want the old Tommy; well, I can’t bring him back for you even if I wanted. I still love you just as much as the day you came back to Small Heath. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Neither do I.”

Tommy took a deep breath and walked back over to her. There she was, still the same quiet young woman who arrived in Small Heath broken and afraid. He felt that maybe once he got his hands on the man who broke her, he would be satisfied. Maybe she would be too. If she knew that he had forced the man to his knees, forced him to beg for his life, force him to apologize for everything he’d done.

But Tommy knew all that and he still didn’t feel at ease. Just like he didn’t feel at ease when he returned home. They could be brought away from the trauma and danger, but it still clung on without mercy.

“Do you know what cycle I go through every night?” Amelia asked quietly.

“Tell me.” He begged. There was nothing more he wanted to do but heal her pain. Just like she tried to heal his. It may have been futile efforts, all of them, but he would never stop trying. Even if he felt empty inside.

“I have nightmares every night. Nightmares that you’re leaving again. That you’ve been killed in war. That you’ve-you’ve left me for someone else.” She choked back a sob. “And every week or so I have the same nightmare I’ve had longer than any other. It just replays the night that he-that he raped me.” In almost ten years since the assault, Amelia had never said the word out loud. She could never get herself to. There was so much anguish and guilt. Her parents said it had been her own fault. Steven had claimed she wanted it too. To try and put herself at ease, she never said what he truly did to her. Until that night.

Tommy pulled her into his arms. It was true that he felt so far away from her. So far away from his children, his siblings, his aunt, his nieces and nephews. Everyone. He felt so far away from Small Heath. But that didn’t mean he was withdrawing from his duty as a father, brother, husband, nephew, all of it. He’d be there physically, if not mentally. That’s all he could do.

And he vowed to himself as he held his wife flush to his chest, if he ever saw Steven again, he would murder the man.

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kirstinmaldonado · 4 years

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CHAPTER TEN 2.0

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep.

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD.

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine — but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long!

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

#blog 2.0

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n1ghtt1me-stars · 4 years

Text

Part 10 (1)

Warlock saunters vaguely through life (Warlock saunters vaguely into their lives part 10) - this work is around 20,000 words so will be uploaded in eight parts every week

work on ao3, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine

The five years after the non-apocalypse passed quickly and peacefully.

And Warlock really didn't want anything to change.

In school, he had very few friends - really they were more acquaintances than friends - other quiet people he sat with in the library and the computer suite because everyone knew that they wouldn't disturb each other. Warlock wasn't even a hundred per cent certain on all their names.

After his last GCSE exam, he went straight home. It was physics and Warlock was pretty sure he lost all the marks except on the parts about Space, as Crowley had helped him revise that topic. There was talk about a party that all his year was invited to, but it felt presumptive to assume he was a part of that group.

The tube had become part of his everyday routine: headphones in, head down and praying that it wasn't crammed (though it usually was).

There was a well-done-on-your-exams cake waiting when he arrived home. Crowley and Aziraphale stood proudly behind the table with the cake on it. Smiling, Warlock walked over and gave them a hug. Neither of them really understood human school though they celebrated each achievement and somehow cake became a part of it.

Aziraphale began to plate some slices of cake while Crowley turned to him and asked, "How was school, dear?"

"S'alright," Warlock replied. "Hated the test but my physics teacher gave us sweets afterwards. I think she pitied us."

Crowley laughed and Warlock continued with descriptions of his classmates' looks of despair. Aziraphale chimed in with "Oh those poor dears. Were exams one of mine or yours?"

Leaning back in his chair as he thought, Crowley eventually said, "I can't remember. I think I did it but it could have been a favour."

"I swear," Warlock said, "if you didn't give me cake, I would be really annoyed right now."

Later that evening, Warlock laid on his bed on his phone. Somehow, he had become friends with Adam and his lot. Not so much Wensleydale and Brian (Warlock did get Wensleydale's help with physics as well though it didn't pay off). He spoke a bit with Adam who really liked plants, and Warlock had grown up in Crowley's garden so they had some common ground.

Mostly, Warlock messaged Pepper. They both did ICT as a hobby and as a GCSE (Brian also did the exam but only because he thought it would be easy). Pepper was also into social justice and Warlock knew the best way to be heard in both Britain and America through his father’s complaints.

(They also both liked romantic comedies and were too ashamed to admit it to anyone else)

Is Adam still prepping for the party? Warlock sent Pepper after their rants about exams died off.

Of course. Been planning this since his fifteenth. Warlock can feel Pepper rolling her eyes. He's even made a truce with Johnson because he can get drinks for the after-party.

That's dedication. How's he hiding it from his parents?

Convinced Anathema it’s a rite of passage. She's going to distract all the adults including your parents after the barbecue so we can go to the treehouse.

Sounds fun. And it really did. Since his eleventh birthday, it had become a tradition to throw a joint party with Adam. His parents were usually abroad so they travelled to Tadfield for roughly a week.

To you maybe. Adam’s been setting up rubbish bags and threatening to fight anyone who litters in his woods.

Haha so glad I don't help plan these things

Wish you did, Pepper quickly replied before sending another message, it's annoying that you can't come during Christmas or Easter

I know. Two more years and then I don't have to go back to my parents’ house.

Only two years. Can't believe we're all growing up. Pepper sent.

Yeah, neither could he. Growing up was a surreal thing. Changes happened without you noticing; he doesn't know when the last time he called Crowley Nanny was. He remembered being teased for having servants and stopped referring to Nanny in school. And then, it bled into his home life. Warlock wasn't sure if Crowley noticed because he never said anything, but it made Warlock a little sad thinking about it.

I know. Think Adam will mature once we turn 16?

Nope. Still be thinking he's the centre of the universe till someone knocks him down a couple of pegs

Warlock laughed aloud at that. Adam was regularly self-centred, but he meant well most of the time. Once, when they were thirteen, he didn't talk to Warlock for weeks after he couldn't come over for Christmas despite him explaining why. It took Pepper hitting him for Adam to apologise.

The year after, Adam posted a book about coding to the Dowling house. Warlock still wasn't sure how he got that address.

Before he could reply to Pepper, she messaged again that her mum needed her so she'd talk tomorrow. It was only ten so Warlock doodled in his notebook a bit; he could do rough sketches of a variety of plants and flowers without thinking. For his art GCSE, most of his coursework had been based around plants because he could use Crowley's garden as a source. A few years ago, Crowley had expanded to a greenhouse on the roof (which Warlock was pretty sure was closed off to tenants) and it was so beautiful and full of lush plants in there.

It was definitely one of Warlock's favourite places.

A couple of weeks later (most of it was spent catching up on sleep), Warlock packed for their trip to Tadfield. Technically, he wasn't a military kid like the others he grew up with who moved every few years. But, on the other hand, as a diplomat's son, he went on more short-haul trips so packing was a breeze.

Going through his mental list, he packed his clothes effectively so he could take his tablet and laptop. He knew Aziraphale would be taking enough books for the week so he didn't have to worry about that.

Suitcase ready and his phone on charge for the car journey, he went up to the roof. He passed Aziraphale prepping packed lunches in the kitchen: most likely simple sandwiches if he was trying to make something without magic.

It was a rare clear day and Warlock could see miles of the city all around from the rooftop however he couldn't hear the busy streets. Apparently, plants needed a calm, clean atmosphere (even though they were already in a greenhouse) so the roof was quiet and smelled of clean air and not the usual scent of exhaust fumes.

Pushing open the door to the greenhouse, Warlock was met with a warm wall of humidity. Crowley stood over some vibrant green ferns with his water sprayer, inspecting for any damage and threatening them.

"You all better grow well when I'm away," he said as the leaves trembled. "or you'll know what'll happen. I don't think any of you can survive a fall from a roof."

Warlock gently stroked a shaking leaf and it stopped trembling. As if communicating with the others, all the plants went still and Crowley turned to glare at him. "You and Aziraphale are way too nice to them."

"Yeah," Warlock said, "We're the ones who are too nice."

Crowley waved the spray bottle at him before giving the plants one last glare. Walking out of the greenhouse, Crowley asked, "Are you ready to go?"

To be honest, his stomach was turning. Each year, it was terrifying to be celebrating his birthday with people he only saw once a year and only knew because he was standing in the background when the world nearly ended.

"Yep, can't wait," Warlock said. He must have sounded convincing because Crowley told him to put his stuff in the car before going to find Aziraphale.

They stayed in the same rented cottage every year that was always empty despite it being the height of summer. Like the flat, it was a lot smaller than the house he grew up in, but Warlock preferred it. Every floorboard creaked and the chairs felt like they would collapse whenever someone sat on them but it was never empty.

Unsurprisingly, they arrived before lunchtime because of Crowley's driving, so they had the sandwiches at the cottage. Warlock had several messages from Pepper demanding he come into the woods as soon as possible because Adam is getting stressy about the party and someone needs to distract him.

Leaving Aziraphale and Crowley to sort out the cottage, Warlock jumped the fence in the garden as it was the quickest route into the woods. He only came once a year, but he could walk this path with his eyes closed. It was cool beneath the shade of the trees, yet the light that filtered through made the whole area a nice golden hue. The air had a similar feel to the greenhouse: clean, fresh and the furthest thing from the city air.

The first thing he heard was Adam's voice. "Hang the paper chains evenly in the branches," he shouted. Warlock walked into the slight clearing in time to see Pepper glare at Adam. "Please," he added reluctantly at her look.

No one was really sure if Adam still had his powers, but Adam swung round to lock eyes with Warlock as if he just knew he was there.

"Warlock!" He shouted and smiled widely. However, Warlock's response was cut off when a weight slammed into the back of his knees. Stumbling forwards, Warlock stopped himself from falling as Dog continued to jump and bark at him. For some reason, Dog was always overly enthusiastic around him and no one else.

"Hey," Warlock said as Dog ran over and sat down at Adam's ankles. "How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Adam said. "It's good you're here actually, you can help Wensleydale with the paper chains. He has no idea how to spread the colours evenly."

Looking over at the tree, Warlock could see what Adam meant. There was a large patch of red on one side of the tree, a couple of stands if blue next to it (where Wensleydale was precariously sitting) and other colours in a pile on the floor. If left to his own devices, all the colours would end up in distinct blocks which would just look weird. "Sure," Warlock said, "I'll save the tree."

"Thank you," Adam said earnestly. Suddenly, he shouted "Brian, no!" before running off to deal with another impending disaster.

On his way over, Warlock said hi to Pepper who was setting up some solar-powered garden lights. "We'll have to take some of that red down," he said to Wensleydale who was clambering down from the tree.

"Yeah," Wensleydale said sadly. He cleaned his glasses on his shirt and put them back on to stare at the paper chains. "I guess it would look better if they were mixed together."

"Yeah..." Warlock said as he studied the colours. "If you get back up in the tree, I'll pass them up and we can spread them out?"

"Sounds good," Wensleydale replied and he climbed the tree again. As they worked, they chatted mostly about the recent exams because that was the only common ground they had.

"How did your RE go?" Wensleydale asked. Warlock was grateful that they had quickly moved on from the physics paper.

"Alright I think," he said as he passed up a green chain. "But it didn't help that Aziraphale kept telling me about misprinted bible quotes. They were all I could remember in the exam."

"Oh, I read about some of those. I think my favourite was 'Thou shalt commit Adultery'."

Laughing, Warlock said, "Nah, 'the unrighteous shall inherit the Kingdom of God' is definitely the best one. It's amazing how these were so wrong with just little mistakes."

Finally finished with the tree (which now looked like an explosion of colour instead of a paint-by-number), Warlock realised that his stomach was growling. Brian and Pepper disappeared a while ago once they had finished their jobs and Wensleydale quickly left as well, claiming he was tired from scrambling around the tree. That just left him and Adam, who was trying to get Dog to stop playing with a scrap piece of paper that he was intent on tearing to bits.

"Dog, drop it!" Adam said. Warlock laughed as Dog ignored him. "Drop it," Adam continued sternly, "or no treats for dinner."

Dog dropped it and Adam looked at Warlock smugly. "I'm pretty sure he only stopped because you mentioned treats," Warlock said and Adam's expression faltered slightly.

No," he said stubbornly. "Dog understood the threat."

"Sure he did," Warlock said, filling his voice with sarcasm. "Well," he added, "I'm hungry so I'm going to ..."

"Come to mine," Adam interrupted. "My mum will be preparing dinner soon."

"Uh..." Warlock couldn't see a valid reason to refuse, except that being around the adult Youngs was weird, but he couldn't admit that to their son. "Sure," he said, "let me just message Crowley."

"Awesome," Adam said, and, as soon as Warlock put his phone back in his pocket, grabbed his arm and started dragging Warlock to his house.

Excluding all the supernatural elements, Warlock wondered if there was anyone else in a similar situation where the child was the one to know that they were adopted and not the adult.

He couldn't help thinking about it as Mrs Young pulled him into a hug and Mr Young gave him a firm handshake. Really, he looked nothing like Mrs Young who shared the same light hair and soft face with Adam, and the only similarity he had with Mr Young was the dark hair colour that his mum also had. Adam, though, did actually look like their son despite not being related.

The situation was strange and Warlock usually tried to ignore it, especially around his family because his father could not find out he wasn't biologically his.

It would be the straw that broke the camel's back; it would be all the excuse his father needed to disown him.

"Sit down," Mrs Young said, ushering Warlock and Adam to the dining table. "I'm making bangers and mash so I hope you're hungry."

"They're vegetarian by the way," Adam said to him.

"Yeah, that's fine," Warlock said. He knew that Adam went vegetarian a while back and that his parents followed his example. Anyway, you could never go wrong with sausages and potatoes.

Warlock could hear the sound of ceramic plates being set out and the kettle whistling in the kitchen. Despite his reservations, Warlock did love being in Adam's house. It was loud and full of life and reminded him of the times when he, Aziraphale and Crowley tried to make a new dish together (with varying degrees of success). It was also the furthest thing from the empty estate that he used to live in.

Once everyone was sat down and eating, Mr Young turned to him and asked, "So, what exams did you do Warlock?"

"Uh, ICT, RE and art," Warlock said, "plus English, maths and combined science of course."

"A good range," Mr Young said, meeting Warlock’s eyes as if he was genuinely interested, "Your parents must be proud."

"Yep," Warlock said, quickly shoving a forkful of mash into his mouth so he didn't have to say anymore. He was pretty sure his father's lecture on why he should do more useful subjects like politics or business lasted an hour when Warlock told him his chosen options.

Thankfully, Adam started talking about the party. He omitted the part about the truce and Johnson bringing alcohol but he waved his cutlery around as he spoke about all the decorations and the games they' were going to play in the woods.

"I'm thinking that we play games that we used to play as kids," Adam said, as though he never stopped playing those games. "Forty forty in is good in the dark..."

"How do you play?" Warlock asked.

Adam turned to look at him with wide eyes, "You've never played?" Adam said. Warlock looked away slightly from his shocked look. As a child, the only game he could remember playing was soccer (well football here, that was probably the only American thing about Warlock) when some of his mother's friends brought their children round. Names of games like 'bulldog' and '123 home' were suggested if he remembered correctly but soccer was the only thing they all knew so they didn't have to waste time explaining it. He never had regular friends to develop these kinds of games with.

"No..." Warlock eventually said, focused on the food in front of him as he cut the sausages into tiny, regular pieces. "I've never heard of it."

"That's fine," Adam said, his cheerful mood not at all affected. "You can be on my team and we’ll destroy the others."

"We never played in teams," Mrs Young added. "If you was IT, you had to do it alone."

"Well, in my version there’s teams and it's more fun when you have someone to work with."

"Okay dear, finish your food," Mrs Young said, gesturing to Adam's half full plate which he had been ignoring whenever he spoke.

They finished in relative silence and Warlock helped Mrs Young carry the plates into the kitchen as Adam took Dog out into the garden. "You're such a polite boy," she said, "not like the chaotic demon I raised." Warlock laughed though it was more at the fact that she didn't know how right she was. "Are you excited for the barbeque tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah," Warlock said. "Thank you for hosting it again. They're always brilliant. This will be the fifth one-- won't it?"

"Oh its no trouble," Mrs Young said, dismissing his praise with a wave of her hand. "I can't believe you're all growing up so fast. Soon, you'll be at university and then adults. First, it was Adam's sister and now Adam. Oh God," she paused and wiped her eyes, "I better stop before I start weeping."

Warlock scuffed his feet against the floor. "It's alright," he said, feeling like an intruder. Adam had told him late one night in a rare honest conversation that his older sister visited less and less and that it made his mother upset. In return, Warlock told him how his parents had been distant growing up and he disliked people like his sister, who selfishly took their parents' love for granted.

Adam didn't argue with him. He only said that he was glad Warlock was with Aziraphale and Crowley now.

"Go hang out with Adam," Mrs Young said as she shooed him out of the kitchen. "I'll get Arthur to help me."

Leaving her shouting for her husband, Warlock went into the garden where he found Adam laying on the recently-mowed grass with Dog. The sun was just setting, turning the sky red (Warlock hoped that meant the weather would be good tomorrow for their birthday). Sitting down next to him, Warlock saw that Adam's eyes were closed but he knew that Adam was aware that he was there. He waited in silence until Adam opened his eyes.

From his position sitting up, Warlock had to lean over slightly so he could make eye contact with Adam. "Are you going to stay there all night?" he asked.

"Maybe," Adam said with a smirk. Honestly, Warlock wouldn't be surprised if Adam actually did as he always seemed to belong more outside.

"In that case," Warlock said as he stood up, "I'll be heading back to sleep in a proper bed."

Adam groaned but scrambled quickly to his feet. "I'll walk you back," he said. There were grass stains all down his back and loose stands in his hair. Warlock tried to help by picking some of the pieces out but stopped quickly when he felt Adam still beneath his hand.

"You don't have to," Warlock said, feeling slightly guilty for disturbing him.

Adam waved him off. "I want to," he said, smiling brightly.

Adam took them along the main road instead of the through the woods even though it was longer. Surprisingly, Adam kept quiet (only interrupting occasionally to ask questions) when Warlock spent most of the walk talking about some new plants Crowley had gotten recently and how they were so pretty Warlock had already drawn them many times trying to capture them right.

Finally, they reached the cottage. Pausing at the gate to say goodbye, Warlock was shocked when Adam pulled him into a quick hug. Adam pulled away too soon for Warlock to hug him back and said, "You're so going to love your present tomorrow."

"I bet my present for you is better," Warlock said almost automatically as his brain was still processing the hug.

Adam laughed and said, "Doubt it," before running off.

When Warlock woke up the next morning, his memory of his conversation with Adam was crystal clear while the rest of the evening after that was a complete blur in his mind.

Next part

#warlock tags along #warlock grows up #warlock saunters vaguely into their lives #good omens #good omens fanfiction

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sadiespells37 · 4 years

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(Content Warning for today’s post. It has transphobic language, and while I will keep it to a minimim I feel dancing around the word would be dishonest it is only one slur used as a quote from the show, but fair warning all the same)

Well a week or so into this and I feel like doing something different from the rest of this. While the goal of LGBTQPril is to keep things positive and highlight the growing, but still smaller than it should be, examples of good and nuanced representation in media. That being said, I can’t shake the feeling that today’s character isn’t entirely on the harmful side of representation. Thinking about it is actually part of the reason I wanted to start this project. So join me in a deep dive of one character’s appearances back with the owners and operators of the Worst Bar in Philadelphia that I call:

If you’re not a TV geek like me and that coy hint or specifically recreated title card didn’t alert you I’m again talking about It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Specifically I’m talking about a character who had a few appearances known simply as Carmen or as the gang, all awful people refer to her most of the time “The Tranny.”

Not a great start with that nickname I know, but let’s break down the few times she was on the show and maybe my point of view will be clearer. Her first appearance is probably the most problematic, but still has things that make it stand out. She is in the bar and Mac and Dennis are trying to find a girl to hook Charlie up with. After meeting and chatting Carmen up Mac thinks she’s great Dennis says the unfortunate phrase “That’s a dude,” and proceeds to explain that she is the trans cousin of someone they went to high school with and points out the bulge in here jeans. But what makes the scene stand out to me is right after Mac goes back to Carmen and asks “Is that a penis in your pants?” She says yes, Mac says she lied to him and she immediately turns it around says he lied to her, that he doesn’t work out, and that she’s seen him at the gym and continues to flirt with him. Mac caught off guard is flattered she noticed him and says he will call her later. The candidness of Carmen’s yes that is a penis is given a level of straight forwardness that isn’t often afforded trans women on TV. Yeah she has a penis, no it’s not a big deal, and then her moving on to continue to flirt with Mac and him being receptive to it gives Carmen a certain amount of agency that you don’t often seen in characters like this.

Her second appearance doubles down on all of this. Mac has been sneaking around and the rest of the gang is suspicious. Quickly the audience finds out that it’s because he’s seeing Carmen again. She is shown to have that agency again while Mac is having doubts and worries about the gang finding out, Carmen again shows she knows how to read people and that flirting with Mac will make him more willing to embrace his feelings and attraction to her and it works, for a while. After the two of them have sex she decides to ask about going out on a real date. Mac brushes off the idea in way that makes it seem like that was never an option and she’s silly for bringing it up. No one can see them together. Carmen, once again, given a level of agency trans women rarely get on TV then just throws Mac out of her apartment without a second thought. It’s at that point she realizes that no matter how attractive she finds him, he is a transphobic asshole. She seems to think she could get him to be more open, but clearly if he’s just going to treat her like a dirty secret she doesn’t need to put up with that.

Her final major episode a few years later sees her having had, for lack of a better phrase, bottom surgery and now happily married. Mac is very obviously jealous. He says they had discussed him getting a call after she had her surgery and then goes into a rant about how their marriage is a “gay marriage” and uses that and his religion as an excuse to fight it instead of his again, super obvious, jealousy. At this point Carmen is having none of it. Her husband even gets in on it by bringing up a passage in the Bible about beating slaves being alright after Mac tries to pull that card. In the end Mac doesn’t change anything and learns nothing, as is often the case for this show. And aside from appearing unexpectedly at the end of the season to reveal that Carmen and her husband hired Dee as their surrogate she hasn’t been seen since. She gets to go off and be happy with her husband and new child, which is something not a lot of the side characters in this show can say. Just look at the priest they drive into homelessness and drugs.

Anyway though this is why Carmen is so fascinating to me as a character. The characters don’t treat her well, but they don’t treat anyone well. In fact they have a slew of other nicknames, and never bother using their real ones for a bunch of side characters. She is misgendered really overtly in her first episode, but she isn’t made less of a person because of it. It’s clear to me that there is a gap between the characters, who are awful, and the writers (who are the same ones acting.) As writers they give her a sense of agency that seems to be really uncommon for other trans women on tv. Especially non-main characters who are just there for the main ones to date/sleep with. One of them even regrets parts of what they wrote about her, particularly the name “The Tranny” In 2018 Glenn Howerton, Dennis, said this in an interview:

“I mean, there are a few things, that if I could go back, I would probably do differently. In the first couple seasons, we referred to a character as 'the tranny.' Personally, I wasn't as aware of the power of that word at the time. Now, granted, I think one of the reasons why we get away with it or why it makes sense is because the characters are awful people. They're not celebrated for it and they always lose and they always get their comeuppance, and I think that's important. But I think if I were to do it all over again, there would probably have been at least one person in the group to say like, 'You shouldn't use that word.' I know our hearts were always in the right place and we never wanted to offend anybody. And still, our intention is never to offend."

Finally I’d like to address one thing that I feel like a lesser show would have done but It’s Always Sunny is smart enough to do. As discussed previously in recent seasons Mac has come out as gay after it being hinted at for years. The linking of these two concepts, Mac dating and sleeping with a trans woman, and Mac coming out as gay after years of repression are never linked. The hinting at it isn’t even brought up in any of the seasons before Carmen’s final appearance, with the exception of a mild crush/wanting a father figure out of a Phillies player. And in the later seasons where it’s hinted at and shown greater, Carmen is never brought up as a factor. The only thing close to that is when Mac is jealous she got married she says “If anything you are gay because I still had a penis when we were together!” In that moment, and because it comes from Carmen herself it comes off less as a genuine observation and more as her being able to read Mac like she did when they were flirting, except this time she’s tired of his crap and knows just how to get him to back off. It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but I feel like other shows that aren’t as aware would make that connection and just keep making it, in spite of those facts having nothing to do with one another.

So I’ve said my peace, and I’m still not sure where I fall. I think in the ends on the positive. She’s a smart capable trans woman and most all of the harmful language the gang uses about her is because they’re all horrible. Still I realize that this could be a highly subjective topic and I don’t expect my view to be anything close to “right.” Check out the episodes and decide for yourself.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia S1 E4: Charlie has Cancer (2005)

S3 E10: Mac is a Serial Killer (2007)

S6 E1 & E12: Mac Fights Gay Marriage & Dee Gives Birth (2010)

———————————————————————

That’s all for today folks. Please leave any likes or comments below. I am especially curious to hear responses and other opinions about this peice on particular. I want to know what you have to say. And of course if you have something you want to suggest or cover feel free to do so with the #LGBTQPril.

#lgbtqpril #television #lgbtq #trans #trans woman #it’s always sunny in philadelphia #it’s always sunny #Carmen

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thenovelartist · 5 years

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Catalyst, Chapter 3

For @miraculouspaon

<<< Previous Next>>> AO3 Fanfiction

“I gave up the miraculous.”

Nathalie dropped her tablet. His confession wasn’t out of the blue. No; she’d commented on how he’s changed. The way he altered his every schedule to include more time for Adrien and his activities had proved it. But this…

She hadn’t suspected…

“When?”

“About six weeks ago.”

Nathalie blinked once again. “I…”

Not often did she find herself so speechless. This was one of those rare occasions.

“I did it for you,” he eventually said. “You have to know.”

Her heart picked up its pace in a way that scared her. The heat on her cheeks was uncomfortable, causing her to worry about if he could see it or not. “What about Adrien?”

Gabriel’s gaze hit the floor. “I… It became apparent just how much I had failed him, just as I had failed you.” His gaze returned to hers, the blue of his eyes surprisingly intense. “You were my catalyst.”

Her heart beat double-time. Her breath was coming in short bursts. Her cheeks warmed.

And that all worsened when Gabriel reached for her hand. “I have the feeling you wouldn’t be so willing to restore that trust in me after being hurt, no matter how unintentionally I meant it. But I will continue to prove to you that I won’t hurt you this time. Never again.”

With that, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles that made her immediately want to throw caution to the wind. But for now, she’d pretend she had everything together. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nathalie.”

“Sir,” she repeated. “As you so eloquently put, I have yet to be willing to return the trust to you that you have broken. I knew better than letting you have that trust in the first place. Give me time to be willing to give it again.”

His eyes closed momentarily as a frown tugged his lips downward. “I understand, Nathalie,” he assured, giving her hand a squeeze. He looked back up at her, his gaze intense. “And I suppose it is by my own actions that I must wait.” He let go of her hand and took a step back. “I’ll be in my office. Can you please send me the reports I need?”

“Of course, sir,” she said, turning back to her own desk.

She waited until he completely disappeared from sight before allowing her ridged posture to fall. She took her glasses off, which meant she could lay her head on her arms more comfortably. And she gave herself a long moment to compose herself before straightening and getting back to work.

…

“I don’t know about this, Father.”

“Trust me,” Gabriel assured. “You are never going to know for a fact that she dislikes you if you do not ask her.”

“But are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I think it is long overdue.”

Adrien frowned as he turned to look out the window.

Gabriel placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Adrien, from what you have told me about Miss Dupain-Cheng, she is not the kind of girl who would play with your feelings intentionally. Ask her, Adrien. You will never know otherwise.”

Adrien turned back to him, nervousness clear on his expression.

Gabriel sighed. He supposed this was his doing. When he made the decision to shelter Adrien, he did not expect the consequence to be causing a seventeen-year-old boy to be terrified to ask out a girl who clearly had a crush on him.

“Adrien,” Gabriel said. He had caused this,meaning he was going to have to fix it, even if it took extreme measures. “I understand your predicament.”

“With mom?” Adrien asked.

Gabriel sighed, then glanced toward the driver. “You never heard any of this, Arthur,” he pointedly commented.

The man grunted his affirmation.

He turned back to Adrien. “Do you remember when you asked if I would ever consider dating again?”

Adrien nodded, his head cocked in confusion.

“Well,” Gabriel said. “There is a woman I…” he cleared his throat. “That I may see a future with.”

Adrien’s eyes widened.

“And I did not know her feelings,” he continued. “Until I asked her.”

“And?” Adrien pressed.

Gabriel pursed his lips. “She gave me her answer.”

Adrien frowned as his brow knit together. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear,” Gabriel admitted. “But she didn’t tell me ‘no’ either. The point being, Adrien, that you will never know a woman’s feelings unless you ask. If she tells you no, then no matter how hard it is, you must respect it. If she is rude, then she gave you her true character, and no woman like that is worth pursuing.”

Even though he still looked nervous, Adrien gave him a nod. “Understood, father.”

“Finally,” Gabriel continued. “If she gives you the difficult answer of a ‘maybe’ then you must be careful in your pursuit of her. I believe I’ve given you enough advice for you to navigate that minefield. But if I haven’t, I hope that you would be comfortable coming to me to ask.”

Slowly, a soft smile crossed Adrien’s face. “I will.”

Gabriel gave his son a smile, one that was a mix of proud and happy. “Now, you best go get your answer from Miss Dupain-Cheng. Like I have said before, a woman will not wait for you forever.”

While still nervous, Adrien grabbed his bag and hopped out of the car. “Thank you, Father.”

“Have a good day, son.”

“You, too, Father.” With that, Adrien shut the car door and headed off toward the school.

Gabriel smiled, but it was bittersweet. His son had grown up, old enough to pursue a woman and nearly old enough to be on his own. When had that even happened? It was as though just yesterday, Adrien was toddling around the mansion.

With a sigh, Gabriel sank back into his seat. “Take me home, Arthur.” He’d find something else to occupy his time than fussing over nothing.

…

Nathalie smiled as Adrien talked all about his girlfriend on the way home. It had been like this for two weeks now, but it wasn’t obnoxious. Nathalie could tell that Marinette was really good for Adrien, and from what Nathalie could tell, Adrien was good for Marinette, too.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask,” Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If, since I’m free on Thursday night, if I could take Marinette out… on a date.”

Nathalie looked over her shoulder at Gabriel.

“Yes, you may. Nathalie, please put that in Adrien’s schedule.”

“Of course, sir.”

It gave her a hint of satisfaction every time she addressed him as such. She’d noticed that the title irritated him ever so slightly. But she couldn’t use his name. Not yet. Not until she was ready to take that step.

And he knew it.

She turned back to the front, away from him. One day, she would give in. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Her heart wouldn’t allow it.

…

“Should I get her flowers? I don’t know. Maybe? Plagg, help.”

Nathalie chuckled. She really shouldn’t be listening outside Adrien’s door, but she couldn’t help it. The poor boy had been frazzled ever since he’d confirmed Marinette accepted his offer to go out on Thursday. And while Gabriel had tried to help, Nathalie knew the man could only offer so much advice.

She knocked before entering. “Adrien?”

He paused his ranting to the little plush cat that he kept on his bed. Likely given to him by Miss Dupain-Cheng herself some couple years ago. “Come in, Nathalie.”

She entered, Adrien standing with his shoulders tight and back rigid with his hands in his pockets.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your plight,” she began.

Adrien’s eyes widened.

Nathalie gave him a soft smile. “Take a seat,” she coaxed.

While clearly uncertain, Adrien did as directed.

Nathalie took a seat beside him and waited a moment for him to relax. “Women like being romanced,” she began.

At that, Adrien’s eyes widened at her while his jaw fell unhinged.

Nathalie smiled and gave him a nod. “Women like knowing that a man cares, whether in the big things or the small. Women also like knowing that a man is able to care for them.”

After a moment, Adrien’s gaze fell to the floor. “She’s strong enough to handle herself, though,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t like when a man cares for us,” Nathalie clarified.

Adrien’s gaze returned to her.

“Most—if not nearly all—women like having a shelter,” she explained. “We like having a person who cares for us. A strong woman is no different in that respect. Don’t mistake coddling and protection for ‘shelter’. While there are times a strong woman wants that, too, it’s not the sort of shelter we constantly require. Strong women need a support pillar. We like knowing that the man we let into our lives is there to encourage us. We need a place to escape when the world gets the better of us. We like knowing that a man is there to care for us in that respect.” She shot him a smile. “We also appreciate when a man cares for us as in making sure we’re fed or that things are in order so we don’t have to handle them.”

Adrien smiled.

“So,” Nathalie continued. “Prove to her that you can be her equal. That you are her support. That you have her back and are by her side and sometimes are leading her along. If she’s a good woman, Adrien, you’ll find she will do the same for you.”

Adrien’s gaze sank to the floor once again, but Nathalie watched him let her words sink in.

“That all being said,” Nathalie added. “Most—if not nearly all—women like being pursued. The thoughtful gestures mean the most. In the case of ‘should you or should you not get flowers,’ I would suggest that you should, but be considerate when you do. Do you know her favorite? Do you know if she likes certain colors? Does she happen to know meanings of them? Or did a certain flower or bouquet make you think of her. Think of those things in your quest to get her flowers.”

“You make it sound difficult,” Adrien commented.

“Falling in love with someone is easy,” Nathalie said. “Caring for that love so that it does not wither or die is not. But the greatest things in life are not easy, Adrien. If they are, you should be looking for the catch.”

Adrien’s lips pursed in thought. Slowly, his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. “I got it,” he said decisively, standing from his seat. “Thanks, Nathalie.”

“Adrien,” she called out, causing him to pause.

“Yes?”

She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Adrien’s smile lit up the room like the sunshine. He turned around to hustle back over to her, only to wrap his arms around her in an awkward sort of hug.

It took a moment for Nathalie to return it.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” he said. “For everything.”

Her smile grew as she settled into the hug. “You’re welcome, Adrien.”

They stayed a short moment longer before Adrien removed himself and scrambled out the door.

Nathalie stayed sitting for a while longer, smiling at the door Adrien had disappeared out of. Eventually, she pulled herself together, recalling she did have other work that needed to be done. She stood and walked from the room.

Only to get the shock of her life when she nearly ran into Gabriel when she walked outside the door.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

She gave her racing heart a moment to calm before dropping her hand from her chest and looking up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t help but listen in the conversation,” he admitted. “I was going to talk with Adrien myself, but it seems as though you beat me to it.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted time with your son, then.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I think that it was good for him to receive such advice from a female and not his father.”

“I didn’t tell him anything special.”

“Of course not. But it was still good advice.”

Nathalie shrugged. “Is there anything you would like me to do, sir?”

Gabriel frowned. “One thing,” he said.

Nathalie quirked a brow. “And?”

“Tell me,” he began, and the way his eyes locked on hers suddenly had her fearing for her heart. “How long have you held onto those words?”

Her breath hitched, and her heart started picking up its pace again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your tone was far too sincere for something you thought out logically.”

“It is all logical.”

“I never said it wasn’t logical. But your tone proved it wasn’t a purely impassive speech.” He quirked a brow. “Those were words you’ve held onto for some time.”

She begged her heart to calm down and her hands to stop sweating. “What are you implying?”

Gabriel paused, clearly finding the right words. “Have you ever been in a relationship, Nathalie? Or have you always told yourself you don’t need one?”

Nathalie quirked a brow, hating just how close his shot in the dark hit to the truth.

“You’re a very logical person,” Gabriel continued. “Very capable of anything you set your mind to. Very capable of working under harsh conditions and keeping a level head. But if I were to guess, your logic got the better of you and you never pursued a romantic relationship.”

She was silent for a while, begging her mind to formulate a response. “I never thought it necessary,” she finally stated. “People can live a perfectly fulfilling life without a relationship.”

“You don’t believe that.”

She fought the urge to bite her lip. “Not now.”

Gabriel hummed, his expression softening. He reached for her hand, carefully taking hold of it and lifting it to his lips in order to press a reverent kiss to her knuckles. “My feelings have not changed,” he whispered. “But I will not push. You have made your stance perfectly clear, and I will be patiently awaiting the day you are ready.”

Nathalie held his gaze for the longest time. “Give me time,” she returned, her gaze falling as her cheeks heated up. “To trust myself to fall again.”

“Be assured, I will catch you this time.”

“Catching me isn’t the issue.”

Gabriel frowned. “Fair enough,” he said. “And that is solely my fault.”

“I knew better in the first place.”

“I still failed you,” he countered. “In every way imaginable. It is solely my fault.”

Nathalie was silent. They stood there a moment longer before Nathalie squeezed his hand and retracted hers from his grasp.

“I hope one day I prove myself to you,” Gabriel said. “But despite what I wish, I know that day is not anytime soon.”

Nathalie sighed. “Keep this up,” she said. “And it will be… Gabriel.”

And she walked away quickly before he could respond.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #Gabenath #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #adrien agreste #implied adrienette #Dating advice #this will go over well

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jaggedheartstrings · 5 years

Text

Hope To See You Again || Chapter 3

Read it on AO3.

Summary:

Natasha Antonia Stark was a thriving scientist in the 1940's. Alongside her brother, Howard, they build a whole world of technology and science for themselves.

Up until a fatal night in 1947.

She was announced dead in 1949.

* * *

Toni wasn’t going anywhere with him as long as she had anything to do about it.

“I was hoping to do this the easier way, but the best ones do put up the best fight at first, don’t they?”

It was the last thing she remembered before darkness overtook her.

Chapter 3:

1948, New York, Hydra Base

The heels clicked on the floor of the cold and barren looking base. The woman was carrying a file, important, need-to-know information she had to take to her superiors. She had been warned quite brutally to not look in the file or risk facing a bullet in her skull- though she was almost sure about what the file was about. Everything regarding the Companion was almost all she knew. The woman had studied and listened, learned everything there was to know about the young woman they had taken. She wished to help her, but she had to worry about other people first, before even giving her a thought.

She knocked on the door and stepped inside when one of the guards opened it.

“Ah, Mrs. Winfrell, I was waiting on your arrival.” The man sitting behind the table told her. It was a rare occurrence to not see him ranting on about. “I hope you have what I wanted. Or have those fools once again failed me?”

“Uh, no, sir.” She gulped and breathed deeply. “Here, if you will take it.” She handed the file and the dark-haired man nodded once.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winfrell.” He pondered for a moment. “I got word from Moscow. They’re ready to move the Companion. I was hoping that you’d go with them. I believe you are in place of a raise.”

“Sir?” She questioned. The woman hoped it was not what she thought it would be.

“I want you there. Help the Companion settle. The Doctor was asking for you to be at his side when Phase Three was green light.” He rubbed his hands together. “The Companion has been given green light a week ago, but seeing as you were not here, he wished not to start it yet. They’ve kept her under heavy sedation until then, so she won’t know of a break from her training.”

“I- of course.” She nodded at him and started to turn towards the door, before coming to other thoughts and turning back towards the base leader. “Are we leaving, when exactly?”

The leader smiled at her, “Tomorrow morning. I suggest you pack your bags and tell your family goodbye for a while. I don’t know if the Companion will be coming back to America at all.”

“Of course. Thank you, sir.” She smiled in a hopefully convincing way. This was far from what she wanted, but she knew better than to turn it down. She hurried out the door and towards her chambers, cursing everything to hell inside her head. She wished to stay as far from the Companion as possible. She knew she was attached to her. It. Goddammit. She needed to get her head straight.

~ Read more under the cut ~

* * *

1948, Moscow, Hydra Main Base

Toni walked quietly besides the Doctor. She didn’t know where she was. They’d gotten on a plane back in New York and she hadn’t known where it was heading to. All she knew was that it had taken a long time and she was immensely tired. She couldn’t sleep on the plane. Her nervousness was basically jumping off the walls. Despite her being ready for Phase Three, she knew she couldn’t trust these people and had to get away. The problem was she didn’t know where she was. And she was sure she wasn’t in America anymore.

They had driven in a windowless (or at least the part of the car she was in was windowless) car for hours. Until they had stopped, and she was stabbed once again with a needle, soon falling asleep. And now she was here, a bustling base- surprise, surprise- though lacking in furniture and full of colourless concrete walls. She was being escorted by the Doctor and three guards- they didn’t trust her at all, did they? It wasn’t long since coming inside that they came across the elevator (-ish?) machine. They went down at least nine levels before stopping, the rattling cage quieting down and stopping with a screech. Two sets of doors opened and a long corridor with steps leading up to a higher point. She was directed to the left, through a metal door to a corridor of doors. Then into a metallic door on the right side of the room. It was the third door, labeled товарищ/Aссистент (Companion/Assistant).

She walked in, but the Doctor nor any of the guards followed her. She turned and looked at them. “You should rest. Phase Three will start tomorrow morning. After you complete Phase Three, I’ll take care of you.” His smile made her believe that “taking care of her” would be not any caretaking she was familiar with.

“And my… handler, was it?” She questioned. She wasn’t sure what Phase Three would be, but a handler didn’t sound right in her ears. She needed to get out and she needed to be out yesterday.

“Apparently that task lies now on my shoulders.” He simply said, not bothering to elaborate. It only made her feel worse about tomorrow and whatever horrors she might face. The Doctor nodded once and one of the guards- she now realized they were for the Doctor- slammed the metal door closed. She heard a clank and assumed that meant it was locked now. She didn’t hear any echo of steps, but she hadn’t expected to.

The room followed the same style as the rest of the base. Bare and made complete of concrete, even the floor, and very, very cold. There was a bed- if you could call it that- in one of the corners. And a wardrobe next to the door. Curiously she opened the wardrobe door and found it empty, except for one grey-greenish blanket. The texture was rough and uncomfortable, Toni couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the material. Where they got all this unbearably uncomfortable items, she had no clue.

She took the blanket- well, more like sandpaper- and took it to the bed-like thing. It didn’t have a pillow or any sheets, but she guessed she could make do. Better than the floor anyway, right? She looked around in the dull room once again, this time noticing the camera in one of the corners- of course, why would there not be a camera. She huffed in irritation. Fuckers wouldn’t trust her to not do anything. She had to give it to them, they were quite smart about the whole situation so far. Toni had no idea where she was and how to get out. There were guards and scientists around every corner and crevice.

She realized with a start that she didn’t even know how long she had been captured for- Howard. Oh, dear God, poor Howard. Not only had he lost one of his good friends in the war, he’d also lost Steve and now his sister. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. Howard barely knew how to live before everything went to shit, how would he fare now? She knew he wasn’t hopeless, and he was almost as smart as her, but Toni couldn’t help but worry for her brother. Being intelligent and smart didn’t mean either of them knew how to take care of themselves. Taking a deep calming breath, she sat on the edge of the bed and dropped her head in her hands.

This was really happening.

* * *

The next morning came bright and early. The woman dressed in a black dress- as she always was- walked towards the room of the young woman. Stark was sitting on the bed, lost in her thoughts. The woman nodded to the guards and they opened the door for her. As she slipped in, she also slipped on her mask, a cool expression hiding everything she felt. Once the door was closed, Stark’s head rose, slowly.

The woman tightened her grip on the file and finally looked into Star- the Companion’s eyes. And it was almost like she forgot how to breathe. An exact match to her six-year-old daughter’s eyes. The same shade of brown, though her daughter’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree whereas the other pair looked dull and pained.

“Товарищ.” The woman addressed her- it- by its new name. The young woman tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. And it suddenly hit her. She wouldn’t know Russian. She wasn’t even near Phase 5. But her direct orders were to only talk to her in Russian. “Вы следовать мной.”

Despite not knowing the language, the Companion could obviously guess what she meant. The Doctor had informed her of the happenings that would take place in the morning after all. St- It rose from the bed and stepped closer to the woman. “Стоп!” The dark dressed woman shouted in almost panic. Stark stopped immediately. “Вы следовать мной но остаетесь запредохранителями. Не придите около меня, ребенка.” (You will follow me but stay behind the guards. Do not come near me, child.) Momentarily forgetting that all of that would go over her head, the woman turned to leave expecting her to follow. When no such thing happened, anger and fear surged through the woman. “Follow.” She ordered in perfect English. The young woman followed her, sluggishly but followed, nonetheless.

They walked through the corridors and the closer they got, the more afraid the woman became. She knew what would happen next, knew her to lose all her memories. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed open the doors leading to the chair. The large open room was filled with machinery, advanced and old mixed together to create a terrifying chair in the middle of the room. The woman turned towards the Doctor and flicked her hand towards the guards, who immediately complying took hold of Stark.

“Господин, я принес ее.” (Sir, I brought her) At her words the Doctor turned, a menacing grin finding its place on his face. He effortlessly glided towards the young woman held by her arms. Stark hadn’t yet lost her fire, as she glared into his eyes, defiance clear.

“Ah, my дорогой, welcome to your new second home.” He grinned at her, baring his teeth. His hand caressed her cheek and she trashed in the hold of the guards. He took hold of her neck and bend down to her face. “See that?” He pointed towards the Chair. Stark’s eyes flicked to the Chair and back to his face. “It’s one of my innovations actually. It’s unfairly efficient. We’ll keep you in it for 30 minutes, then talk a little. After that an hour. Slowly increasing it, until you learn what we want you to learn. Don’t worry, we have all day and night all to ourselves. Asset is currently enjoying some well-earned sleep.”

The woman saw Stark’s eyes open wide with fear. “What does it do? The Chair?” The Doctor suddenly erupted in a high pitched, hyena like laughter. The woman couldn’t help but cringe.

“You’ll find out soon enough, моя марионетка.” He flicked his hand and without a word the guards dragged the trashing young woman into the Chair. They put her in the chair and held her still as the various doctors and technicians worked to strap her in. The Doctor looked annoyed at the resistance. “My darling, I thought you trusted me with your worthless self.”

“I trust you with nothing!” Stark yelled as she trashed in the chair. “You do this, and nothing will stop me from tearing you all apart once I get free!” She fiercely spat the words towards the Doctor and in a split second he was moving. Next the woman knew the Doctor was seething above the girl, his hand still raised, her cheek coloured with a hand print.

“Worked yourself some courage and defiance over the night, didn’t you?” He seethed into her face while holding her chin in a harsh grip. “I guess I shouldn’t have left you that carelessly all alone with your pretty little head.” He threw her face to the side and pulled himself upright, turned and stomped all the way up to the platform where the control panel was. “I want this over with and I want it now! Start Phase Three.”

“Но нет попирание плохая черта, которыйнужно выйти под обработку?” (But isn’t defiance a bad trait to be left under the treatment?) The woman asked with curiosity.

“Я делал все я могу разрушить ее попирание. Если это не делает его, то мы не имеемникакую пользу для ее.” (I have done all I can to destroy her defiance. If this doesn’t work, we have no use for her.) The Doctor grits out and motions for the man handling the controls to start. His fingers fly on the buttons and soon the spiky straps that lead the electricity cover her forearms and place themselves around her head. Another doctor puts a biting strap into her mouth and then the screams start as electricity pushes itself around her fragile body.

As thirty minutes pass, it all stops, and the Doctor simply asks Stark who she is and what is her purpose.

When she answers incorrectly, the Doctor furiously slaps her and slides a knife up her arm, making it bleed.

“Вы товарищ, ваш полет помочь имуществу ипозволить гидре контролировать вас. Выответите: Подготавливайте для того чтобыисполнить и сделайте все и все мы говорим, что вы делаете. Отсутствие спрошенныхвопросов!” (You are the Companion; your mission is to assist the Asset and allow Hydra to control you. You will answer: Ready to comply and do everything and all we tell you to do. No questions asked!)

It continues the same way until almost twelve hours later, she- it says the right thing.

“Подготавливайте для того чтобы исполнить.” (Ready to comply.)

And the Companion is born.

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rike-with-love · 6 years

Text

Be Mine (chapter 2)

Pairings: Okikagu

Rating: M for mature content, bad language, violence, angst

Disclaimer: I don't own Gintama or it's characters, Sorachi Hideaki does. I only own this story.

Author’s notes: I have a link to my fanfiction masterlist on my profile. Please check it out for more chapters and fics!

Chapter 2

Queen of the Kabuki district was having the best time of her life. She was lounging in her bunny patterned pyjamas. ”Gin-chan, bring me more food, my fuel is low,” Kagura ordered. ”You aren't even doing anything Kagura-chan, watching soap operas doesn't require fuel,” Gintoki said in a bored voice.

Gintoki walked in front of the tv with his pink ruffled apron (Kagura's choice obviously). ”Hey, I'm missing the best part, get out of the way you JUMP reading madao!” Kagura yelled while she was stuffing her last ten sukonbus into her mouth.

Gintoki shook his head and said: ”You know Kagura-chan, while you have grown up physically your manners have gone down the toilet just like Otae's cooking skills.” (Gintoki and Kagura both shivered a bit just by thinking about the dark matter Otae calls food).

Shinpachi entered the Yorozuya shop. ”Good morning Gin-san, Kagura-chan!” Shinpachi said with a cheerful smile, like always. ”Oh, it's the cleaning glasses, Gin-chan you can now give him your apron,” Kagura said with a cocky voice. ”Ah, yes, my queen's word is the law.” Gintoki bowed to Kagura and threw the apron at Shinpachi.

”I am not your cleaning ANYTHING!” Shinpachi said with his ”calm” straight man's voice and put on the apron. Shinpachi walked next to Gintoki and whispered: ”What is this queen thing you are doing?”

Gintoki threw his arm over Shinpachi and said: ”I made a bet with her, that she couldn't find every single one of my adult magazine hiding spots. I don't know how that bet even came up, but it did...I lost...and here's the result Pachi-boy.” Shinpachi's inner voice was screaming with panic. Gintoki was the one who taught him to hide his...you know. I need to hide them better, Shinpachi thought to calm his mind.

It was a rather slow day at the Yorozuya Gin-chan. Shinpachi had lost his temper only six times. Gintoki was reading the same JUMP for the 9th time. Sadaharu was taking a good long nap in the middle of his tiring naps.

Kagura had managed to change into her normal clothes. She was in their bathroom fixing her hair. She loved to tie her long vermillion hair into two ponytails. Kagura placed her black and gold hair ornaments on her hair and she was ready to go out for a walk. She most definitely wasn't polishing up for anyone else, but she remembered it was ”duel day”.

Kagura was looking at her reflection from the mirror with a slightly sad face. I look more like mommy now...I miss her so much. I miss papi too, I haven't seen him in two years. I wished that he would have at least visited six months ago when I turned 18. She thought.

”Kagura, get out of the bathroom, other people have business in there!” Gintoki shouted with a hint of desperation in his voice. Kagura took one last look at herself and shook her sadness away. She kicked the bathroom door open and ”accidentally” hit her earth dad with it. ”Don't rush a blooming lady when she is grooming herself!” Kagura grunted.

Kagura was about to take Sadaharu for a walk. ”Kagura-chan, bring us parfaits and toilet paper!” Gintoki muttered from the bathroom. Kagura rolled her eyes and hummed once as an answer. All of a sudden someone familiar was at the door. Kagura sensed who was there before any knocks were made. Gintoki exited the bathroom and was about to complain some more about the lack of toilet paper. Kagura rushed for the door and slid it wide open. ”Papi!”

There he was in flesh and blood, Umibouzu the greatest alien hunter of the galaxy. ”Hello, Kagura.” Umibouzu greeted his dear daughter. ”My my, you have grown so much since I last saw you!” Umibouzu gloated with happy daddy aura. Kagura ran into his arms and giggled with excitement. ”I missed you so much”! Kagura said.

Gintoki and Shinpachi came to greet the great Umibouzu (the one who promised to crush their family jewels if some scumbag made any moves on his sweet and innocent Kagura). ”Papi, what are you doing here?” Kagura inquired as she pulled her father inside the apartment. ”Let's sit down first, all of you,” Umibouzu said with a serious voice.

After everyone was seated Kagura was looking at her father with an adoring smile. ”So, still bald, eh?” Gintoki stated. Shinpachi elbowed Gintoki to his side. ”Yare yare, it was an icebreaker, calm your temples.” Gintoki nervous laughed.

Kagura was sitting next to her father and she was smiling. Umibouzu began to speak: ”I came to earth to see you Kagura, my now adult daughter. I need to tell you a story that took place when your mother was still alive.” Kagura's eyes began to sparkle, she loved to hear stories about her mother. It wasn't a happy story.

FLASHBACK

Umibouzu had finally found what he had been looking for this whole time, an Altana crystal for Kouka. There was a tiny problem. An infamous Yato named Orochi. He was almost as famous as Umibouzu himself. Orochi used to serve under the Yato king Housen. Orochi had his own ambitions so he deflected Housen. Orochi and his most loyal friends created a pirate group called Kuro Orochi.

Orochi had found one ultra-rare Altana crystal and was now selling it to the highest bidder. Umibouzu didn't have anything as exotic as many other bidders. He decided to be blunt about it: ”Orochi, tell me what you want, and I get it for you.”

Orochi was amused, he thought about it for a while, and then it came to him. ”Umibouzu, you have a pure blooded Yato daughter, don't you?” Orochi inquired. Umibouzu nodded. What about my sweet Kagura you sleazy man, Umibouzu thought.

”I want her as my bride when she turns 18 years old,” Orochi announced. Umibouzu was a bit shocked, but then he thought about it: He is strong and rich. He could watch over her when I can't. Also, he is a Yato, and my daughter could live as a proud alien hunter under Kuro Orochi's flag. Orochi can't be that bad of a man. Umibouzu was ready to make the trade, Kouka was getting weaker day by day and this crystal could heal her.

”I accept,” Umibouzu said. Orochi stood up from his chair and walked to Umibouzu. ”Great, thanks,” Orochi said. ”I hope you know that if you break your part of the deal, I'll destroy everything that is important to you, your family, your friends and your reputation. Are we clear O' great Umibouzu?” He added. Umibouzu took a deep breath. ”Crystal clear,” Umibouzu said and the two Yato warriors shook hands. Orochi handed the crystal to Umibouzu.

FLASHBACK ENDS

”So, Kagura you know how it went down when I came back with the crystal, Kamui attacked me, and your mother was already too weak,” Umibouzu concluded his story with a defeated voice. Shinpachi's jaw was rolling all over the floor. Gintoki's hair began to fall off as he scratched his head with speed like no other. Kagura was looking at his father. Her expression was very confused. ”Kagura?.” Umibouzu called her.

”I'm ENGAGED?! Or rather, I have been engaged to some lame old madao since I've been a child?!” Kagura yelled as she stood up. All three men were silent and just stared at her. ”How could you do this to me papi? You have no right to make up my life!” Kagura yelled even louder.

Before Kagura could continue, Umibouzu stood up and interrupted his daughter's understandable rant. ”Kagura, the deal has been made, there's nothing you or I can do about it!” He said. Kagura was looking straight into his father's eyes. She felt angry.

”I did it all for your mother. Do you understand that?” Umibouzu asked. His words made Kagura frown her brows and changed her anger to sadness. Umibouzu sighed and placed his hands on Kagura's shoulders. ”You look just like your beautiful mother,” Umibouzu said and hugged his daughter. Kagura teared up and hugged him back.

”I must go for now to handle some business, but I'll come back tomorrow and tell you more about Orochi and everything,” Umibouzu said while wiping Kagura's tears away. Kagura was looking down on her feet. Gintoki was collecting whatever was left of Shinpachi, but he kept his eyes on Kagura. ”Kagura, do you understand why I made the deal?” Umibouzu asked. Kagura lifted her head and nodded calmly.

Gintoki was surprised by Kagura's reaction and he thought: How is the tremendously rude and stubborn girl suddenly accepting her father's words. Umibouzu made his leave and left an interesting atmosphere behind him. Sadaharu walked to Kagura and pushed his wet nose against her cheek. Kagura just padded Sadaharu's head in return. ”I'm going out now, do not follow me. I'll kill anyone who does, got it?” Kagura said with a fake smile. Gintoki and reincarnated Glasses nodded in unison.

Kagura took off quickly but quietly. ”Look Gin-san, she forgot her parasol, what should we do?” Shinpachi asked. ”It's almost sunset, I'm sure she can manage without it for one evening,” Gintoki said. Neither Gintoki or Shinpachi didn't know how to address the matter they just learned. ”Let's go Pachi, we are out of toilet paper,” Gintoki said bluntly.

As the two men were walking outside in silence, Shinpachi couldn't take it anymore: ”Kagura is getting married! What are we going to do?” Gintoki silenced him with his hand and lead them into a nearby alley. ”What is wrong with you? We don't know all the details of this strange situation, so don't speak about it in public.” Gintoki hissed at Shinpachi.

Shinpachi sighed and said: ”I have to tell sis, she can help Kagura-chan in this situation. She and Kagura-chan are close friends after all.” ”Yeah, you might be onto something, Kagura-chan does lack in psychogorillawoman skills,” Gintoki said as he picked his nose. ”My ane-ue is not a gorilla woman...completely!” Shinpachi mumbled. Their conversation went on for a while. Then the infamous Captain Okita of the Shinsengumi interrupted them.

Kagura found herself wandering aimlessly around Edo. She needed to find a peaceful place to calm herself down. Kagura decided to go to her favourite place, the riverbank in Kabuchiko. That was a place she had nice memories with her earth family and friends (and a certain sadist).

Kagura sat down near the river and stared at the sky. What the actual fuck just happened...? Engaged? I can't be engaged, how the hell am I going to be the greatest alien hunter in the galaxy if have to get married? Dammit papi... Kagura thought as she hugged her knees.

Kagura pressed her forehead to her knees and thought about her mother: ”Mami...papi did this for you. I maybe understand that part. I just feel so...hurt, like I'm someone's property. I need to beat papi up real good as punishment, he has some more explaining to do, Kagura thought and lifted her head up. She liked the sunset.

Kagura felt a familiar presence. It's sadist...oh right, I forgot our duel day...I don't want to see him today... Kagura thought. He was calling her with some obnoxious names again. Kagura decided to ignore him completely, that was the way to deal with attention seeking little brats. She was calming herself down by pulling some grass from the ground.

After a while, he got under her skin and she tried to make him leave her alone. Suddenly Kagura found herself from the river. A very angry Kagura decided to kill the sadist, plain and simple. She got up from the river and shook herself dry. Kagura had forgotten her troubles for a moment and was now ready to battle with full force. Sougo always made her lose focus on anything other than him, it was truly infuriating.

The sadistic duo fought for a while. Why the hell is he staring at me with those piercing eyes of his? Kagura thought. When Sougo drew out his katana, Kagura hoped that she would have brought her umbrella. I need to beat him up and fast. She thought.

Kagura saw her opportunity to disarm Sougo. It was weirdly easy to do like his focus wasn't on the fight at all. She watched as Sougo fell into the river, ah sweet revenge. It sure felt good to see him drag himself up from the river. ”Damn you China, now my clothes are wet too,” Sougo shouted. Kagura had a facade smile of victory, she tried to hide the fact that something huge was bothering her.

Kagura's smile dropped a bit and her eyes widened. Sougo took off his wet jacket and now he was wearing his dark blue pants, a white, wet and now see-through shirt. Sougo had always been a fit man, but now as he had grown up...oh my. Kagura noticed his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. Sougo wiped his wet hair with one hand from blocking his sight, and somehow that made Kagura's throat dry up.

Kagura swallowed a dry lump as her eyes ran through Sougo's build. His abs and chest were visible through the wetness of his shirt. Sougo's words snapped Kagura of her deep thoughts. ”Now, will you tell me what's wrong? Or do I need to force it out of you?” Sougo asked with a serious look on his face. Kagura looked away and thought: How the hell he knows? That is so annoying...and sweet, but sadists aren't sweet. What the hell?

”Mumble mumble...that poor tree, you can be so careless sometimes...” Sougo said. Kagura didn't hear the beginning of his words, but she was already pissed off. Kagura let out a battle roar and charged at Sougo. As they exchanged blows, Kagura thought about their rivalry.

We have been rivals since I was 14 years old. He was always such an asshole, well...still is. As our interactions grew lesser over time, I felt kind of lonely, or maybe just hungry, I'm often hungry. I'm still glad that we have our weekly fights, it's not like they are the highlight of my week or anything but it's nice to beat that bastard up once in a while.

In the middle of a pushing contest, Kagura noticed Sougo staring straight into her eyes. ”What the hell are you staring sadist?” Kagura yelled. Then Sougo said something that baffled Kagura completely: ”I'm looking at your beautiful blue eyes, I could stare at them all day.” Kagura lost her strength and balance. Sougo was still pushing her so he lost his balance as well. Both of them fell onto the ground. Sougo fell on top of Kagura and lifted himself up to lean on his forearms.

Kagura was looking into Sougo's crimson eyes and she couldn't look away. Feeling him being so close to her made her heart flutter. Kagura's breathing was rapid, mostly on exhaustion and partly from him. Neither of them said anything. This is so weird, I would never let anyone this close to me, especially this bastard, so why does this feel so good? Kagura thought.

Sougo wasn't looking at her eyes anymore. Kagura gasped a bit as he leaned closer to her. Kagura was so overwhelmed by these feelings and the tension she had to closed her eyes. Kagura felt Sougo's intense breath hit her sensitive neck which made her let out an unintentional moan. Kagura felt Sougo tense up.

Kagura's mind was running wild: S-s-sadist...I can't move at all. You shouldn't put a pure young woman into these kinds of situations. I know I'm a beautiful and irresistible young single woman...single...oh dammit! Kagura's eyes popped open and there he was eyes closed inches away from her.

I'm sort of engaged, oh shitshitshit, what the hell am I going to do? I have to get away from him and fast, Kagura thought with slight panic. She kneed Sougo in the place Gin-chan had taught to her to kick if a man was too close to her. Sougo flew off Kagura with a painful grunt. Kagura jumped up and shouted: ”Don't ever do that again, you big stupid...asshat!

Sougo was left holding his crotch as Kagura sprinted away as fast as she could. That was so weird, and completely stupid sadist's fault, I didn't do anything, no-no dammit, Kagura thought as she ran. Alright, it's over now, I just need to get home and forget this ever happened. Kagura convinced to herself. Kagura thought that this occurrence would just blow over in time, but she kind of knew it wouldn't by the uncontrollable beating of her heart.

#okikagu #gintama #kagura #okita sougo #okita x kagura #kagura x okita #fanfiction

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notsissannis · 6 years

Text

—Kissing Stranger

Sirius Black x Hermione Granger

One-shot: Complete

Rated: fluffy fluff

World: Muggle AU

Read more here [AO3]

Happy New Year to all my Sirimione and rare pairs people! x

31.12

She scrunched her nose, a sorry attempt to hide her disgust over the overly strong perfume her friend had.

“You look rather… dashing,” she managed to say while holding her breath. “Though I’d tone down on the perfume, Ron.”

Ron sniffed his armpits. “I thought it was from you.”

“Excuse me? I’m offended!” She put a fist on her heart with a dramatic gasp.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Only body oil and all that.”

“It’s healthy for skin, Ronald.”

He sniffed again before he blanched. “ I don’t think it’s that strong.”

“It’s because you’re used to the smell. That’s why. Now, what you can do is, go back to your room and change your shirt.”

Ron grunted his agreement as he walked to his bedroom. ”Oh, and Harry!” He yelled to her, “He said to wake him up fifteen minutes before!”

“Fifteen?! Bloody hell. Just because he has a bike, it doesn’t mean he can ride it as fast as he wants! Just last month he got five speeding tickets—"

“It wasn’t him!” Ron interjected.

“— He could get into an accident — Oh no! Gods forbid!” She chastised her negative thought quickly, ignoring her friend’s input. She ran to Ron’s room. “Ron!”

“Hermione!” He covered his chest.

“What if I jinxed it?!” Her eyes wide.

She hated jinx. She had always been an outspoken person, saying whatever things in her mind and only regretted it after. Luna berated her insensitivity, her lack of human’s emotions understanding, as she said. She then explained to her about the power of jinx, the power of irony and karma. And apparently she had jinx magic, whatever it meant.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she registered his embarrassing posture. “Seriously? You’re hiding you freckled man boobs?”

“Get out!” He kicked her out quite literally, closing the door. “Don’t forget Harry!”

She walked to the living room to use Ron’s phone since hers was still charging. She tapped on ‘favourite’ and smiled in glee to see her name was above Harry’s. She covered her mouth to muffle her snigger. It has been a running fight between her and Harry to be on Ron’s first spot. And clearly he hadn’t noticed it yet. She tapped on ‘Pothead’, checking the time on her wrist, — an hour before their agreed time — and her fear for his friend’s safety once again filled her. When Harry finally answered, she launched her worries.

“Harry James Potter! Fifteen minutes before? You think just because you ride some cool superbike you could ride to your death?! Oh, no! No, no! I take it back, Universe! Don’t listen to me!” She looked up to the ceiling, sending her prayers to all the deities there was.

The other man roared with laughter. She would be annoyed and kept on ranting; only, it wasn’t Harry. She knew Harry’s laughter anywhere. And she knew very well Harry didn’t roar.

“Uh, excuse me. Is this Harry Potter’s phone?” She asked in a small voice, embarrassed of her outburst earlier.

The laughter subsided, yet Hermione could still hear the amusement in his voice. “Yeah. This is Harry’s. He’s getting ready so I answered for him.”

“Well, uh, can you please let him know that we’re leaving now?”

“And make him leave now, too? Earlier than ‘fifteen minutes before’?”

She groaned, “Yes, earlier than ‘fifteen minutes before’, so he has no excuse to hit another speed limits.”

“Oh? He did?”

“Yes! And he used my address when he got the bike and I’ve already received four just within last week!”

“Uh-huh. Yeah… about that—"

He didn’t get to finish whatever it was when Harry snatched the phone from him.

“Ron?” He called.

“Hermione,” she corrected. “Get moving, Potter.”

He chuckled. “I knew you gonna call earlier. I’m ready, mum.”

“Oh, aren’t you a perfect child. Not like your brother, Ron. An abomination!” She yelled the last part on purpose so Ron could hear her.

Ron didn’t disappoint. “Hey!”

She giggled, focusing back on Harry. “See you soon?”

“Yeah. Love you!”

“Love you more!”

Ron came to her the second she hung up. He looked at her expectantly, both his hands outstretched to his sides and he did an exaggerated twirl. “So?”

Hermione put her nose up and sniffed. “Perfect. Now,” she passed him his phone and grabbed hers, “let’s do the countdown!”

“Ron! ‘Mione!”

Hermione and Ron turned to see Harry jogged towards them, pushing his body against the rush of people.

“He’s so short. I don’t know how to tell him that those supplements he’s been taking won’t change the fact,” Ron whispered to Hermione behind his grinning lips.

“I don’t know how to tell him milk won’t help, too. He’s lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake. He’s so adamant to hold on to the myth,” Hermione whispered back, also behind her grinning lips.

Ron snorted at the same time Harry finally reached them. “Happy New Year, mate.”

“Happy New Year Eve,” Hermione corrected.

“Whatever,” Ron shrugged. “You alone? Where’s your girl?” Ron hugged both Harry and Hermione on each of his side so they wouldn’t get separated in the throng.

“Cho and I called it off,” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, “said she couldn’t stand you and Luna.” He nudged Hermione’s rib.

“Me? And Luna? But we barely talked to her.” Her brows furrowed.

“I know. That’s what I said. She said she couldn’t accept Luna’s… occupation.”

Hermione swirled her head to face him square. “Excuse me? Rude! Luna is a Goddess! She should have bowed to her!”

“And that’s why she couldn’t stand you,” Harry added.

Ron ruffled her curls. “You made fun of her before, too, remember? Calling her Loony Lovegood every time she talked Nargles and whatever more.”

“That was before she read my cards, Ronald. She read my life scarily accurate!”

“Tarot card reader is a pretty sketchy job,” Ron mused.

“You just said that ‘cause she told you Pansy won’t say yes until after February,” she retorted and snickered when Harry tried his best to cover his laughter.

“Oh? You think it’s funny, Harry Ginny’s-lover-since-forever Potter?”Ron tightened his hold on Harry.

“It’s not easy, alright?! I changed her diapers when she was little! It’s fucking awkward to confess my feeling to her!” Harry blushed furiously. “Anyway, I came with my godfather.”

“That’s wonderful, Harry! I’m so happy for you!” Hermione hugged him, breaking their small cocoon. “Where is he?”

Harry let go of her and looked around. “Somewhere, I guess. I was excited to greet you two that I sprinted off.”

“You called that sprint? Very cute, Harry,” Ron looked at him with mock adoration only to receive a punch on his arm.

Hermione nodded her support. “Yes, Harry. Punch him harder!”

The trio bickered, laughed, and shared more stories while waiting for midnight. It was New Year Eve, and the square was so crowded with people waiting excitedly for the countdown. It was their ritual to do so then continued the party at one of their houses, ever since they were done with boarding school. Hermione looked up to the big screen and jumped in excitement.

“It’s starting, guys!” She squealed as she took out her phone, ready to record this year’s New Year.

Just when she tapped the red button, a woman walked past her hastily, knocking her phone down.

“My phone!” She tried to pick it up but it was kicked around further and farther away from her. She turned to her friends and kissed their cheeks sloppily. “I’m gonna get my phone! Happy New Year, guys!”

Hermione left them and hated to see their dejected face. But her phone was a priceless possession of hers. She had pictures in it that she hadn’t yet transfer to her laptop. Her eyes stung at the thought of losing them. Her small stature helped her snuck between people swiftly, but it also meant people could easily shove her off.

Her eyes never wavered from her phone, still and all. And she was hopeful, seeing it stopped at someone’s pointy boot.

“Excuse me!” She tried to call the person while her eyes still trained on her phone. “Excuse me! My phone! Your boot!”

She let out a relief sigh when she saw the person picked her phone up. “Oh, thank all the Gods!”

“Ten!” The crowd started chanting.

Hermione was so close to her phone.

“Nine!”

She stood right in front of her lifesaver, catching her breath before she looked up to see him — her phone was in his leather gloved hand.

“Eight!”

She held his hand and beamed brightly at him. “Thank you, mister! You’re a lifesaver!”

He didn’t move. His grey eyes bored into her brown.

“Seven!”

He regarded her hand on his hand, her phone still in his grip, and cocked an eyebrow. “How can I know whether this phone really belong to you or not?”

She squinted her eyes, “Are you serious?”

He grinned from ear to ear.

“Six!”

“Why, of course I am.” He sounded so delighted. Too delighted.

“Fine! I’ll show you the photos. You’ll see thousands of my face there,” she huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.

“Five!”

He hummed. “There’s passcode though. You know what?” He took out his phone. “Give me your number and we’ll see if it rings.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Are you fucking serious?”

He laughed— roared — so hard at her question. She had no idea what was so funny.

“Four!”

“Fine!” She gave him her number.

He put his phone on his ear, smirking when the crowd shoved her closer to him. “Hug me or you’ll fall.”

“Three!”

She wasn’t planning to, but all the pushing made her lost her balance. So, with pouty lips, she heeded.

He wrapped his hand around her waist. “Good girl.”

“Two!”

Hermione scowled. And she hated how easily her blush crept up just because this stranger locked his eyes on her. Suddenly a smile crossed on his face, a handsome, genuine smile. She hoped he didn’t notice her palpitating heart.

He leaned back a little, his eyes trailing from her hair to her face. “Snow.”

“One!”

She tilted her face up and a toothy grin plastered on her face. She laughed, bouncing up and down and their awkwardness was long forgotten. She looked back to him with mirth twinkled in her eyes. “It’s snowing!”

“Happy New Year!”

She didn’t bother to watch the fireworks, neither did he. The excitement around them couldn’t faze them from each other. However, it was broken by the man behind him who yelled: “Kiss the lass! Or you’ll have a bad year!”

Not taking any risk to ignore her jinx magic, she bit her bottom lip and said, “So…” she cleared her throat. “Uh. New Year kiss?”

He put their phone in his pocket before he took off his gloves. “New Year kiss.”

He sprawled his hand on the nape of her neck, prompting her head to tilt up and stared at each other for quite a moment until slowly, he leaned down.

His kiss was sure. It wasn’t tentative, it wasn’t hesitant, it was firm. Confident and firm. Was it because he was older? Age like a fine wine, they said. Ripe fruit and all that. She didn’t care. She thought he might be in his 30s, still, she honestly believed he could pass as late 20s if it wasn’t for his not so obvious wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

And with his tongue tasting her lips like that, confidently probing them to dive into her mouth, she could definitely say she didn’t mind his age at all.

His hand moved from her neck down to caressing her spine up and down. She twined her hands around his neck, tilting her head to different angles now and then so she could taste all of him, and he did likewise.

He tasted like tobacco and coffee, smelled like Bleu of Chanel — she gifted the same perfume to Harry on Christmas. She hoped she didn’t taste like the strawberry milk she drank on their way to the square, and she prayed she didn’t smell like Ron’s awfully strong perfume. She delved her fingers in his hair, pulling it just enough to make him groaned in their kiss.

She smirked. He chuckled. And they broke the kiss together.

“I believe our new year is now secured,” he said with a smile, his thumb wiping her bottom lip tenderly.

She smiled back, noting his swollen lips and felt proud that it was her doing. “I believe so, too.”

They kept staring at each other and she tried, she really tried her best, to not close her eyes at the feel of his thumb on her lips. The perfectly-timed snowing made the picture so fairytale like. She loved it.

“‘Mione!”

Ron’s voice reminded her there was no fairytale when she had a tactless with impeccable timing friend like Ron. She couldn’t see him, but she knew her red-haired friend was in hysteria mode right now. She sighed, cataloging the man’s face one last time. It seemed like he had the same idea, too, taking her face between his hands, and letting his eyes roamed to every corner of her face. And her hair. And her neck.

He took out her phone and gave it back to her.

“I thought you want to verify the ownership first?” She accepted it and raised an eyebrow.

The man chuckled, twirling a lock of her curls around his finger. “Nah. Never need to.”

“‘Mione!”

She sighed again. How fitting. Just when the clock struck midnight, the magic happened and the magic lost. She tucked her phone into her pocket, and decided — for extra new year luck, as she told herself — to tiptoe and pecked his lips as her goodbye.

It startled him of course. And it didn’t take long for the shock turned to jolly.

“Happy New Year,” she said, “and thanks for the phone.”

He was still grinning, “Happy New Year to you, too, love.”

She grinned back and turned to find her friend.

She’d missed the fireworks, she’d missed the countdown, she’d missed her friends. But she surmised, who’d give a damn about all those when she hadn’t missed the prime essence of New Year celebration. She hadn’t missed the New Year kiss.

“Ron, I’m here!” She called him.

Ron pulled her hand and forced her through the mob. “We’ve been looking for you!”

“I’m sorry! Where’s Harry?” She asked, scanning around ‘till he saw him ran towards her.

Harry hugged her and gave her a once-over. “Are you hurt? Did they stomp on you?”

“Ha ha! Very funny. The short man jokes about short people,” she rolled her eyes. “Nevermind that. Happy New Year, boys! I love you both! I’m so happy we’re still friends after all the crazy stuff we’ve been through!”

She pulled them down to her height, peppering their faces with kisses and tears. “Now, let’s go to Ron’s place!”

“Why is it always my place?” Ron once again, — as the tallest among the bunch — hugged them both and led them out of the crowd.

“You have food,” Hermione said.

“And beers,” Harry added.

“And comfiest sofa, thanks to your mum,” Hermione added more.

“And a wide collection of movies,” Harry said.

“And I’m the one who’d do the cleaning,” Ron chimed defeatedly.

“Exactly!” Both Harry and Hermione chorused at the same time.

“You both are the shittiest friends. Let’s go,” Ron leaned down and kissed the top of their heads, “Happy New Year, you lil’ shits.”

1.1

Hermione was the first one to wake. She slowly sat up, massaging her headache away from all the drinking last night. She checked her phone for texts and smiled as she read all the wishes from her family and friends. Her brows knitted together when she saw an unknown sender sent a photo. She downloaded the image and left it on the sofa she was sleeping on to get a glass of water. When she sat down, taking a sip while tapping on the photo, she splurted her drink to Ron and Harry — both were sleeping on the floor.

“Mum! It’s tsunami!” Ron yelped in his sleep.

It was funny. He looked comical. Hermione would have recorded it or took a picture of his ridiculous face. But she couldn’t take her bulging eyes away from the screen of her phone.

It was a picture of her, in the crowd, last night crowd to be exact.

“Thank you for the kiss. I can already tell the year is going to be good.

ps: Your pink cheeks looked lovely under the snow.”

She could feel said pink appearing on her cheeks right now. “Holy shit!”

“‘Mione, shut up—“ Harry whined.

She ignored him and laid down, squealing and rolling from left to right like a high school girl. She looked at the text again and weighed her option: to reply or not to reply. “Oh, fuck it!”

She started typing with a stupid toothy grin on her face all the while as she figured his trick to get her phone number out.

“Give me your number and we’ll see if it rings.”

She giggled before she forced a cough out. Her ego wouldn’t let herself to act like a lovesick puppy. And yet, once she pressed ‘send’, she couldn’t help but giggled like one. She made a mental note to call Luna and tell her everything from last night later, once she was home alone. After all, It was a good start of her new year.

“Thank you for the kiss. I can already tell the year is going to be good.

ps:Your pink cheeks looked lovely under the snow.”

“Want to make it better? x

ps: So did yours.”

#Sirius Black #Hermione Granger #sirimione #hprarepairnet #fairestoftherare #happy new year!!#this is all fluff!#no sex!#hp fanfiction #hp #fic #mine #kissing stranger #sirius x hermione #hermione x sirius

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loyaltyremains-ff · 7 years

Text

Chapter Twenty Five

Meelah

I wasn’t in my room for five minutes before both of my parents came in. My father was ranting like he always does all the while stripping my bedroom of anything I would consider fun. He took my computer, my iPad, and my phone. He even went as far as to take all of my chargers. He was just doing the most at this point.

“You done now Tone?” My mother asked him while she leaned against my bedroom door with her arms folded over her chest.

“Almost, I just want to know why she thought talking to that nigga was alright.” He answered her while staring at me. “Meelah, I’m trying to understand this shit. I want to know everything right now.”

“Everything like what?”

“Like how you even got into contact with him after that shit happened.”

“I ran into him at a Chipotle one day. I was sitting down eating waiting for you to come pick me up when he sat down across from me. I didn’t even want to talk to him because I knew what happened to Sanaii but he sat there begging me to believe that he had nothing to do with it. Like the boy was almost crying daddy.” I told him and he just shook his head.

“And you believed him?”

“I don’t know, something in me was telling me he was lying but something else was telling me to hear him out. He still had my phone number from before all the drama went down and he started calling me. I ignored him for a minute but I eventually gave in and he was just…He’s a sweet boy. He would talk to me for hours and he was so nice so I thought there was no way he could have anything to do with it.”

“Toi told me that Malik was getting all of Sanaii’s social media accounts every time she made a new one. Were you around that boy at all?” My mother asked me.

“No, I never saw Malik. Sean never even talked about Malik; we would just hang out together. He must’ve been going through my phone and getting it.”

“How does he get into your phone?”

“I don’t know I never gave him my password or nothing he must’ve watched me do it before and memorized it.” I sat up with my back against my headboard. “I really fucked up huh?”

“You did,” My mother told me. “You chose that boy over your best friend. You know what happened to her and you made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal when it is just that.”

“I know her being raped was a big deal ma, I never said it wasn’t but I didn’t do anything that led to him popping up on her. She thinks I was hanging out with them like what went down didn’t matter. I never saw Malik after the night we went to the party. I didn’t know Sean was going through my phone, I didn’t even know he was still talking to Malik until I called him earlier asking him how Malik knew where she was.”

“And? What did he say?” My dad asked me. I had to turn my head away from him just so I wouldn’t see the angry look on his face. My father has a lot of patience, he rarely gets angry but when he does it’s like an explosion.

“He said that he saw my text messages and that’s how he knew where to tell Malik to go.” The more I answered their questions the dumber I felt. He was really using me and I never even caught on to it.

“Meelah that boy was using you, and now you may have lost your friend because of it.”

“I realize that now ma and I’m sorry. I would apologize but she’s not going to want to hear me out.”

“Just give her some time.”

“Ma, come on you know just like I do Sanaii is stubborn and she doesn’t give too many chances out if any at all. The girl can hold a grudge like no other; remember you said she was like Auntie Toi because of that.”

“She is just like Toi and that’s how I know you have to give her time. She’s angry and hurt right now and she will be for a good minute which I understand. You would be hurt and mad too if the shoe was on the other foot.”

“So what do I do? If I just ignore her until she’s ready to talk she’s going to think I don’t care.”

“First you’re going to tell me where to find this little nigga. I don’t give a damn about your loving him or anything like that. He’s gotta go so he’s going to go.” My dad said to me. “Secondly you need to tell Sanaii you’re sorry. She probably blocked yo ass by now so I don’t care if you have to write a five page apology let you’re going to let her know that you fucked up and you’re sorry. She’ll talk to you if and when she’s ready to but at least take that step alright.”

“Yes daddy,”

“Alright now write down the address and give it to your mother I gotta go do some shit real quick.” He shook his head at me then walked out.

“He hates me huh?” I asked my mother. My father was big on loyalty, he says the worst thing you can do to somebody is betray them and right now he was looking at me like I wasn’t even his daughter. I could tell if I wasn’t his child my head would’ve been blown the fuck off for something so dumb.

“No he doesn’t hate you. He’s disappointed in you, shit I am too. Meelah this was dumb, really dumb. Not only were you being disloyal to Sanaii, you put yourself in danger. Who’s to say he wasn’t going to do to you what that boy did to Naii? Then what? You were obviously sneaking your ass out my house to go see this nigga. Nobody knew where you were he could do anything to you and we wouldn’t even know.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” I wiped the tears that fell down my face. I hated crying, my mother knows I hate crying and she’s sitting here making me feel like shit. I mean I get it, I don’t need to be consoled right now but fuck I don’t wanna cry.

“I want you to learn from this alright. You can’t be so naïve. I wish I could tell you that Sanaii is going to let this go and y’all will be friends again but I can’t because I don’t know. You really hurt her tonight. Think about all of this and really get your mind right.”

“Okay,”

“Alright give me the address.” I got up and wrote the address of where I knew Sean was staying down on a sticky note then gave it to my mother. “Go to bed, get some sleep.” She kissed my forehead then walked out my room closing my door behind her.

I sat laid down across my bed and let out a deep sigh. I knew after tonight a lot of things were about to change. I know for a fact my dad was going to kill Sean. That was a given, there was no way he was about to live after that shit and that was weighing on me for more than a couple of reasons.

Sanaii wasn’t talking to me any time soon. I know that girl like the back of my hand and I know that Sanaii is extremely stubborn. She will not listen to anything I have to say, which I really don’t even blame her for after what I did and what I said to her. At the time that I was spending time with Sean I never really thought about it, I believed everything he said to me. I believed his ass when he cried about not knowing.

I didn’t think he was using me, I should’ve caught on to that but I didn’t and now I’m stuck with no best friend. My father is mad at me, my mother isn’t feelin’ me too much right now either. I’m pretty sure Uncle Que and Aunt Toi probably hate me too. I was just a complete dumb ass and I knew it. Losing my best friend couldn’t have come at a worse time. It was way more to the situation with Sean than anybody knew. The worst part about it is if I open my mouth and say anything my parents would really hate me, and if I don’t open my mouth I’m fucked up for a lifetime. Life was just all fucked up at this point.

Khalil

“You alright?” I asked Meelah after sitting down at the empty lunch table with her. She was in here sitting by herself and I know it was by choice because Meelah has her own friends outside of Sanaii so I wanted to check on her.

“No, but I will be I guess. You spoke to Naii?”

“Not really.” I shook my head. “You know you fucked up right?”

‘Yes Khalil I know that. I don’t need you reminding me about it.”

“I’m just saying, you were acting like her getting raped isn’t a big deal. You know you were defending that nigga?”

“Khalil, you ever felt like you were in love?”

“Nah not really.”

“So you don’t care about the girl you gave your virginity to?”

“I don’t even remember her name. Wait hold up, you fucked that nigga?” I had to look at her like she was dumb for that one.

“I was stupid, I know this now. It’s just a lot man.”

“Come on, talk to big daddy Khalil.”

“Big daddy? Eww,” She laughed while she her head at me before she went on to tell me about how she started talking to Sean and how everything went down. “I want Sanaii to know that I’m sorry but I doubt if she listens.”

“Text her,”

“She blocked me, not really shocking. I emailed her though, hopefully she actually reads it.”

“I’m sure she will you just gotta give her time to calm down.”

“Everybody keeps saying that.”

“You know that nigga is gone right?”

‘Yup.” She looked down at her hands. “I should hate him for using my ass and setting her up like he did but I can’t.” She started tearing up but covered her face. “I wasn’t shit to him, I meant nothing and I thought i did.”

“You’ll find another boyfriend Meelah.”

“I’m not thinking about a boyfriend right now. Trust me a boyfriend is the least of my concerns. Boys have done enough for me.” She moved her hands from her face then wiped her tears.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s gone, that’s fine I’ll get over it I guess but I wish it wasn’t after he gave me some shit I can’t get rid of.”

“You burnin’ or some shit?”

“No nigga, the fuck?”

“I’m just asking. Well what do you have that you can’t get r-“I looked at her face then down at the baggy clothes that she was wearing and my mouth dropped. “Meelah, tell me your ass ain’t pregnant.”

“Khalil, just mind your business alright.”

“You pregnant by that nigga?”

“Just shut up, and keep your mouth closed.” She got up grabbing her stuff then rushed off. I sat there feeling like somebody just let a ton of bricks fall over my head. That’s why she was defending that nigga so hard, he went and get her ass pregnant.

I got up and walked out of the cafeteria just as Sanaii was coming in with Legend and Bryan. I walked over to her and grabbed her arm. “We gotta talk come with me.”

“Alright what the fuck are you pulling me for Khalil?” She snatched her arm away from me then crossed them over her chest. “What? If it’s about me talking to Meelah it’s not happening.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Who’s pregnant?”

“Meelah, that’s why she was defending that nigga so hard.”

“Damn, well that’s what she gets for being a dummy.”

“Naii really?”

“Yes really? Am I supposed to feel bad for her? She got herself in that situation, if she wasn’t fuckin’ with the enemy she wouldn’t be where she is.”

“Sanaii I need for you to use the grown up side of your brain for a minute. The girl is 15 and pregnant, you know who her parents are. You know she’s scared as fuck and you don’t care?”

“No, she didn’t care about my rape.”

“Oh word? You think she doesn’t care?”

“Obviously if she could be cool with that nigga.”

“Sanaii, you sound stupid. She does care but she got caught up. How are you going to say she doesn’t care when I remember her laying up with your ass for a week straight when your parents finally found out.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is she fucked up but you know she wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m not saying you can’t be mad at her. You definitely should but I don’t think you should just drop her like she’s nothing.Meelah isn’t you she’s naïve as fuck, she believed that nigga when he went crying to her swearing he had nothing to do with it.” I could tell by her silence that she understood what I was saying.

“How do you even know this?”

“She told me, she said she emailed you. Read it and maybe you’ll understand where she’s coming from. I’m not saying you have to forgive her, I’m not saying y’all gotta be friends again but damn just at least try and understand aight.”

“Who told you she was pregnant?”

“She did, no her parents don’t know and you can’t say shit.”

“Khalil you’re annoying,” Sanaii huffed. “I want to stay mad at the bitch and you’re trying to make me feel bad for her.”

“I don’t want you to feel bad for her, I’m just saying read the damn email. It’s not going to kill you, but Uncle Tone might kill her if he finds out.”

“Oh yeah he’s going to bury that ass for sure. Look Khalil, I’m not promising you a damn thing but I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I care about. Come on,” We over to the table where Bryan and Legend were at and sat with them.

I was trying to concentrate on the conversation they were having but I couldn’t help but think about Meelah. The fact that she was pregnant was shocking to me, plus she’s pregnant at the same time as Diamond so they were about to have two grand babies at one time. All I know is I don’t want to be there when they find out because that shit is going to be like a volcano erupting.

Once school was out I went straight home instead of hanging out with Bryan and Legend. I had too much shit on my brain to even function right.

When I got in the house I smelled something cooking so I walked in the kitchen to see my mother behind the stove. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking, the hell does it look like I’m doing? How was school?”

“It was alright.”

“Meelah and Sanaii alright?”

“Sanaii is pissed but she’s good. Meelah isn’t really doing too well.”

“This whole situation is fucked up.”

“I know, it’s way more messed up than you know.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, what are you cooking?”

“Mhm, I’m cooking food. Now get out of my face. Go do some homework.”

“I did it in last period, I always do that. You know that by now.” I leaned down since she was short as fuck and kissed her on the cheek. “You need to grow some more.”

“Just because you and those other niggas you call a father and brother are some giants doesn’t mean anything. I’ll still tear your ass up.”

“You can’t even reach my face mama.”

“You want me to slap the shit out of you to prove you wrong?”

“Nah I’m good, chill.” I laughed backing away from her. “I do have a question though.”

“What?”

“Can I get another tattoo?”

“You have five already and your little ass is only 16.”

“I’m trying to catch up to you and pops.” My mother was tatted the fuck up. One of her arms was completely covered, she had some on her legs plus she had this big ass chest piece. My pops was covered in them too. Mecca had a few, he was working on a sleeve and so far I had five but I wanted more. Thankfully for me my parents didn’t make a big deal about tattoos and shit, they really had no room to be like that anyway.

“Bring me some good grades and you can get another one.”

“Say no more. Where’s pops?”

“I don’t know, i don’t care either.” She shrugged.

“Y’all good?”

“I don’t know Khalil, i wanna say yeah but I rarely see that nigga.”

“He’s probably just working aight.” I know my mother and father were going through something because they rarely talked since we’ve moved back up here. Hell, he’s rarely home and when he is they argue. I know this because we hear it plus my mother isn’t the type of person to beat around the bush or hide shit. She’ll tell me what’s up with them in a heartbeat. I don’t know what my dad had going but whatever is done in the dark will eventually come to the light so I’m worried about it.

I kissed my mother’s cheek then left the kitchen. I was about to go to my room but went down to Mecca’s instead.

“Didn’t I tell you to announce yourself when you come down here?” He looked up from phone and at me. “What you want?”

“Damn I can’t say what’s up anymore?”

“Not unless you want something and you know not to ask me for money, so what’s up?”

“Aight, look I know something about somebody but I don’t know what to do with the information. I’m not trying to be a snitch.”

“Well then shut the fuck up and don’t snitch. Mind your business.”

“See I could do that but I know this person. Hell, we know this person.”

“Who and what the fuck are you talking about Khalil?” He looked at me confused.

“Aight, long story short you remember what happened to Sanaii right? Basically, the nigga that told her to go upstairs did some crying and whining to Meelah. Had her thinking he was innocent, he went through her phone and told that other nigga Malik where to find Sanaii. Sanaii found out, they fought. They’re not speaking now, I’m pretty sure the nigga is dead since Meelah had to tell her father where the nigga was.”

“Oh yeah he’s dead for sure. What secret are you talking about though?”

“She’s pregnant by that nigga.”

“Who’s pregnant by who?”

“Meelah is pregnant by that nigga.”

His mouth dropped in shock. “Are you serious? Damn, they’re going to kill her ass. You have to say something.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You think it’s healthy for her to pregnant and not going to the doctors or whatever? You know she can’t go alone, she’s only 15.”

“I know that but you want me to just tell on her?”

“I don’t know but it’s better that they know.”

“Alright I’ll tell if you tell Uncle Legend you took his daughter’s virginity.” I smirked and he shook his head.

“Why are we trying to make this shit about me and Jurnee?”

“I’m not, I’m just saying. You wouldn’t want anybody to tell that shit would you?”

“Alright, I hear what you saying but this shit is different. You don’t have to say anything but they’re going to find out anyway. Aight look, this is what you do. You shut the fuck up and don’t say anything until you think it’s going too far or unless you really have to.”

“That could work, thanks man. I can’t believe Meelah is going to have a baby though.”

“I know, if she lives I’ll be shocked as hell.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“It means if her parents don’t kill her ass when they find out, she’s blessed and highly favored because I already know they’re going to flip. Myles told me Mickey cried when she found out about him and Diamond, the fuck you think she’s going to do when she hears her 15 year old is pregnant by a nigga her husband offed?”

“Yeah that’s going to be crazy.” The fact that Meelah was pregnant was something that I still couldn’t wrap my head around. Not only is she pregnant, but the nigga she’s pregnant by was killed by her father, who is damn near psychotic over his daughter.

Don’t get me wrong Uncle Legend is protective over his daughters too but he’s not as tough as Tone. He doesn’t want Meelah dealing with any boys. All that dating and shit was not going to happen for her as far as he was concerned. He would barely let her out of the house if she wasn’t with Sanaii so hearing about her having a baby is going to make that man lose his damn mind.

#chris brown #chris brown fanfiction #chris brown fanfic #aliyah raey #summerella #Trevor Jackson #lucas coly

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knightofbalance-13 · 7 years

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http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/158821156544/rant-on-yangs-nonexistent-recovery-arc

I wanna preface this before I begin: I really do think yang needed more screentime this Volume. She got shafted in Volume 1 and 2 and here it was a souring experience to see her sidelined. Now I am not blaming Jaune: That guy had about a third of the screen time to himself than Yang. If I were to blame someone in the series, I’d blame Blake for hogging an entire episode to herself or Tyrian for taking up ending time that could have been used for Yang. But my honest opinion? I’m optimistic: If the writers show that Yang ahsn’t gotten over the PTSD in latter Volumes I will actually be very happy. Nothing is more insulting than underplaying the lasting effects of a mental illness, making it seem easy to get over. I didn’t get that vibe from Yang considering she had to be depressed for around nine months considering it was fall when we saw her after Beacon, it was winter after that and a minimum of six months have passed since that point. It’s entirely possible for Yang to recover in that span of time, especially if Volume 4 was told out of order.

I am saying this now to put what I am about do in context: I am a Yang fan, my main complaint with V4 was that she got too little screentime and I have an aversion to mental illnesses being downplayed. By all rights, I should agree with @Dudebblade right?

Well...

IF YOU WERE TO USE THE SAME TECHNIQUES SHOWN IN RWBY ON A PTSD VICTIM, YOU WOULD BE CALLED OUT ON YOUR INSENSITIVITY!

This isn highly hypocritical as Dudeblade has in the past said that Taiyang was wrong for breaking down after Summer’s death....his team leader...and the mother of his second daughter and caretaker of his first...after losing Raven, his first love and mother of Yang...all in about four years time...leaving him a single widower of two, a job meant for to people at minimum. It’s hard raising a kid I know, I’ve been hearing my mom state the hardships for years. And quite frankly, I wasn’t that hard of a kid I didn’t go around challenging demonic wolves or attacking bars and as much as I love my mom, Taiyang is a better parent than both of them and suffered even more than her. And Dudeblade calls this insensitive but not a widower. Yeah, he’s not allowed to talk.

I don’t give a shit if the arc was “Too hard” to write. You set yourself up to make a recovery arc. You should deliver. If it wasn’t as easy as you thought it was, then you should tough it out, and do it. Otherwise you failed to deliver on something that you promised.

You promised to be my friend and then betrayed me three times. Again, Hypocriticial.

It’s like if the RWBY writers promised that there would be LGBT representation, but refuses to point them out… Oh wait… That’s actually what’s happening right now.

You now, I have an LGBT friend named @mageknight14 and he’s just as sick of this as I am. I am starting to think they SHOULDN’T have an LGBT character if you keep bitching. You don’t hear me bitching for Asperger’s representation even though Autism is synonomous with “Brain damamged” in the world and the closest thing I have to a representitive is Sheldon Cooper.

Alright, something I’m going to have to do, is to compare this show’s PTSD recovery arc, with another show’s recovery arc. Not to be a dick or anything, but the only other well-known show that did a PTSD recovery arc well, was Legend of Korra. Not to compare RWBY to a show that has had an entire team of writers, professional animators, a previous series that was well-received, and an epic premise to undermine it or anything, but hey. Miles did say that the Season three of LoK missed the line by an inch, and found it “Meh” (Yep. Bringing that one back.)

Oh so people’s personal opinion is something you are allowed to judge them on? Okay then, you like Raven ergo anything you have to say about parental characters ever is disregarded. And unlike you who has stated their opinion as fact, Miles stated his opinion as ONLY that. And if you’re gonna pull that, how about I start comparing your DB chronicals to Miles’ writing? Let’s see: Pandering to LGBT demographic with Tifa and Yang, crappy reasoning for not using Goku or Superman which hasn’t been addressed, under usage of the Villians, under suage of Vegeta, directly copying and pasting Godzilla Vs. Gamera ect. Doesn’t feel to good huh? Maybe next time you could learn some empathy?

Hey, if Miles wants to criticize a show, and claim that “missing the mark by an inch” makes the finale “Meh”, then I can say that missing an entire plot by a light year is INFURIATING.

And I can point out the bullshit in your crap without an inch of regret or remorse. Funny how that works.

It’s almost as if it was the most insulting piece of shit that I have had to watch since reading poorly written fanfics that were clearly meant to troll people.

You emna like basic pandering, random and lazy fourth wall breaks, expecting us that Deadpool would be friends with you, under using 90% of your cast, making some deity look after you and making Yang and Guts look similar when they share like three basic things together? Or how about yang remembering Carolina ahs Pyrrha’s voice but the snarky AI in her suit that sounds like her father? Nope, nothing to see there. Also, TYang knows RT but doesn’t know a single person from RvB because...plot?

I’m getting off-topic here. Legend of Korra Book 4 handled PTSD with an ENORMOUS amount of seriousness, respect, and time. Not only was this a case of a timeskip being used in a manner that was actually the right way of using it, but they showed that Korra was struggling. While she could always blame it on the mercury poisoning, it showed that Korra wasn’t merely “moping” (I will never let that line go), it showed that she was terrified. She wanted to get better, but she had to go at her own pace.

Yeah and tehw riters of Korra had a shit ton more experience, payment and less pressure considering they could coast off of the original’s success. Which they kind of did seeing as I have heard a shit ton of non-LGBT people call bull on Korrasami.

Okay then, I will never let anything yousay go then as well. Have fun with that: My specialty is turning one’s words against them.

In fact, she had to be the one to decide to get the mercury out of her system. She wasn’t guilt-tripped into doing it, she did it because she was ready. It had nothing to do with someone calling her a burden. It was because it was at that moment, that she had recovered. There’s a reason why this episode stands out from most. It was because, through the help of Toph, Korra managed to overcome her fears and doubts, and remove the mercury herself.

Okay...is Yang Korra? No? Then they will NOT handle this situation the same way. Unless they are carbon copies of each other or at least have the same basic experiences, your point DOES NOT stand. And since you just expect us to take your wrd for it after insulting Taiyang, Miles and later on you will use Shane and Monty to attack RT, I have no good will.

Hm, let’s go through this again shall we?

Terrified...Guess that Adam dream or the PTSD flash never happened...

Choose to get the Mercury out of her system...Not how the body works...And taiyang didn’t stitch it on neither did Yang have to deal with her fault at letting her sister be in danger. Yeah, If Taiyang is a bad father for breaking down, Yang is a worse sister because she broke down longer, with no one to help Ruby, over less pain and had support all unlike taiyang.

And is RWBY over yet? ... No? Then I’d bet you’ll be eating your words sooner than latter.

RWBY just rushed it. Yang wasn’t given time to actually decide to put the arm on, her father heavily implied that she was a burden, she overheard it, and felt guilty (Seriously, how did she hear that? Is she some kind of rare half-breed or something?).

Like all children are: it’s a fact of life get use to it. Whether or not the child or parent think that way, iyt is a fact. Just as well: We only have your word on that. You, who have proven you are projecting your own parental problems onto Taiyang. yeah, you are the definition of Unreliable Narrator.

But hey, let’s take a look at Berserk. Let’s see what would happen if we were to use RWBY’s techniques on Casca. Hey, Casca! I know you got assaulted by the man you used to love romantically and everything, and that he violated you in ways that we probably couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but how about you get over it? - And now, I have been bifurcated by Guts for saying something like that. Why? Because Casca from Berserk has PTSD! She’s not going to magically get better by getting some heals or shit like that! She has PTS FUCKING D! You either treat it with respect, or don’t set yourself up to write it out to begin with.

Pardonnez-moi, mais vous n'avez aucune idée de ce que vous dites.

Okay then, let’s use your method of parenting on Guts shall we?

HEY GUTS! DUDEBLADE SAID YOU’RE A TERRIBLE FATHER FOR BREAKING DOWN AFTER TEH ECLIPSE AND CASCA’S RAPE, THAT YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU, THAT YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BE CONSIDERED GOOD AGAIN AND THAT YOU ARE WORSE THAN YOUR OWN FATHER AND GRIFFITH!

Oh look, he’s pretty pissed. Hope you enjoy having a crossbow shoved up your neither regions.

Also: Is Yang and Casca the same person? Have they faced the same troubles? Do they even share one event in the past? NO. So how about you stop using stupid examples and I might stop Guts from shoving his sword up your uretha?

Then Tai said, “Looks like you lost some brain cells along with that arm of yours.” Keep in mind that both Port and Oobleck were shocked at this. It shows that Tai crossed a line there, and in all honesty, if Yang hadn’t laughed, they would have been scared shitless for Yang’s mental health. Something that they didn’t really consider. These are supposed to be her teachers and parents, but they don’t do anything to actually help Yang get better mentally. Not to mention that Miles and Kerry said that writing the PTSD recovery arc was “too hard.” is rather insulting considering NOTHING HAPPENED! I don’t give a shit about that. I don’t give a single shit if it was “Too hard.” or not. You have to do it in a respectful manner, or you become one of the most insensitive people ever. to the point where I think that this becomes appropriate:

Oh so you’re insensitive for telling one joke but not for directly insulting someone when they are trying to help you? Because Yang did EXACTLY that! remember this line?

“I lost a part of me, it’s gone and it’s never coming back. You can’t possibly understand how that feels.”

She says this to man who lost both of his lovers, lost his team, nearly lost his kids twice with one comatose and the other depressed and hurting him for trying to help, had to wake up every day for six months wondering if his brother in law, daughter and friends were all dead. It’s like bitching about a hangnail in front of Guts: Not comparable in the slightest. If I were Taiyang I would have walked up to her, got in her face and recounted everything that I have lost to her and make her see just how much she actually lost.

Not enough? How about Ruby, her younger sister who lost more than her, was comatose for it and preserved still? Or Qrow, who lives with misfortune over his head 24/7? By far: Yang is the BEST one off so by your logic, she has no right to complain and neither do you!

Yeah. People who treat PTSD as insensitively as the writers did should be fired from breathing.

... You are telling them to die over a fictional character...

You know what is even more insulting dudeblade? Using suicide baiting right in front of a formerly suicidal person. Fuck you in every sense of the word.

Before anyone says any bullshit about how Red vs. Blue had the character ripping on each other, so that this is “okay.” - I’d like to point out that in the scene where Doc’s split personality O’Mally, roasts Grif for having to take care of his sister because his father left, and his mother was in the circus. Nobody really laughed. And when Doc snapped out of it, he apologized. None of the Reds or Blues ever hit that close to home, and when it did happen, they treated it seriously. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a punchline, it was an actual serious thing.

Yes itw as a joke. It’s called Black humor and the narrative treated it as afailed attempt at Doc’s peace which was the real punchline. And the same guy also insulted his own sister several times throughout the BGC.

And what about getting shot by a tank, being told you’re worthless, being said you won’ta mount to anything, being forced off to die several times and take the blame for everything? That’s the entirety of the BGC’s thing.

And it was treated seriously as a way to break the ice and unlike Grif, YANG WAS OKAY WITH IT. And unlike Doc, Taiyang KNOWS YANG. HE RAISED HER! How convenient for you to not mention these factors huh?

The really infuriating part was the fact that it started off so well. Yang nearly had a panic attack when she dropped the glass, she was having nightmares about Adam, she openly said that she felt as if “A part of her was missing, and it wasn’t coming back.”, she had gotten used to using only one arm- It was going so well! At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if the current writing team for RWBY would be unable to write a respectful, and realistic PTSD Recovery arc to save their lives. The writing’s become shit since they booted Monty’s wife, Sheena and Shane off the team. I’m sure they REALLY appreciate it.

(Growls deeply)

You wanna know what is really fucking sick, as in, I can NEVER forgive, that I have deemed people horrible for, that has truly made me hate them?

Using a person’s death or mental illness for their own gain, usually attacking friends and family with it.

Like you have done with Monty and Shane.

I hoep you’re happy because you have crossed so many lines. I hope you’re happy being hateful and pessimistic because you know what? You are no better than those people at Yang Haters Haven for threatening Ben and Chad’s lives. In fact, you are WORSE than them. You are essentially digging up Monty’s corpse to beat his friends, his grieving friends who shared so much with, with it. Congratulations, you are what you hate. Except they can always say “I never used a dead man for my own gains.”

I have no respect for you, no hope for you, no kindness for you.

You are worse than most people in the rwde tag and that is saying a lot considering their suicide baiting and death threats.

Enjoy the fucking hole you dug for yourself, I’ll be sure to fill it up and put you out of your misery never.

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