I have always had a fraught relationship with school, going way back to the beginning, when I was a shy and nervous kindergartner attending class for the first time. I wish I could say things improved dramatically as the years progressed. I never felt at ease or found my place. Entering ninth grade only made matters worse. I went from having some measure of academic success in middle school to feeling like an insignificant fish swallowed up in the bigger pond of high school, fearing I wouldn’t be able to stand out with my grades anymore. “Overwhelmed” is an understatement.
One day during my second semester Home Economics class, the teacher allowed us to adjourn to the restroom across the hall for a quick break. Most of my classmates took the opportunity, regardless of a true need to use the facilities, as did I. Like almost all the girls, I stopped at the mirror to check my hair and makeup. “Oooh, look at Autumn,” I heard snidely. My eyes in the mirror caught the girl beside me, her face screwed up as she commented to her snickering friend. I had been feeling insecure in my skin for some time, and their mean girl routine caused something in me to snap. Suddenly I was sobbing inconsolably…not that any of them tried. They ran to get the teacher.
The volume amplified the longer I cried, my wails resounding abysmally. By the time my teacher arrived, my breakdown was in surround sound. There was a classroom on the other side of the nearest wall. The teacher from there came in and demanded to know what was going on, saying she was trying to teach and I needed to keep it down. My teacher soothed her, telling her she would take care of it. Then she came to soothe me, wrapping her arms around me and murmuring things like “it’ll be all right.”
I slowly calmed and tried to explain what happened. But it was difficult to get out, through the shame and confusion. She let me go call my mom. I always loved being released from school early, but this time there was no elation. I felt defeated, as though I wanted to disappear completely. After that episode, school became a claustrophobic cage I couldn’t wait to escape.
This was highkey inspired by that one movie with Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo, so. It turned out differently than I planned, but I worked too hard on this so I can’t just ditch it.
ALSO, warning for vulgar language and a small mention about suicide.
• Jihoon moves into a new apartment complex, which is only, like, six months old. • He’s startled to find Soonyoung lounging on his couch, and actually thinks he’s human at first. • “What the fuck? Get out of my house, man.” • “This is an apartment, not a house.” • Jihoon just gives him a done look and tells him to get out again, and tries to throw a candy bar at him, but it goes through him. • Jihoon realizes that Soonyoung is a ghost and mutters, “for fucks sake” before picking up his candy bar and heading to his room. • “I’m your new roommate!” • Jihoon slams his door shut. • Jihoon tells his best friends Seungcheol and Jeonghan the next day about Soonyoung, at lunch when the two visit him at his music studio. • They have been his friends since he was younger and started seeing ghosts, after he was in a car accident which led to his mom’s death when he was about 11 years old. • They thought it was the coolest thing, at that age, when the two were 12. • Jeonghan asks Jihoon if Soonyoung is cute, and Jihoon rolls his eyes, “He’s a fucking ghost. Even if he was cute, I don’t date ghosts.” • “A ghost roommate! Did you talk to him after you went to your room?” • “No, I went to bed. Are we done talking about this? I’ll talk to this ghost dude when I get home, see how I can get him to Heaven or Hell.” • “Jihoon comes home to Soonyoung on his couch again, just laying down and looking at the ceiling. • "Is that all you do?” • “No! I also like to make up funny skits, wanna see?” • Jihoon sits down on the couch, right through Soonyoung’s legs. • “You’re not startled by me,” Soonyoung mentions and Jihoon shrugs, “I’m used to ghosts.” • “What’s your name?” Jihoon needs to look up Soonyoung’s death, find out things about it to help him get to where he needs to go. • “Kwon Soonyoung!” Soonyoung is very enthusiastic, and Jihoon cringes. • “Okay, do you know anything about your death?” • “Yes.” • Soonyoung’s reply surprises Jihoon because most ghosts know nothing about their death. • Jihoon figures he must have gotten into a fight with someone before he died, it could be his unfinished business. • Jihoon asks Soonyoung about it. • “I remember everything before I died. I had already said I love you to my mom and dad, brothers and sisters, and my boyfriend. I don’t feel unfinished at all.” • “Boyfriend?” • Soonyoung gives a tiny glare towards Jihoon, “Yeah, is there something wrong with that?” • “No, not at all. I’m fucking gay, so.” • Soonyoung gives a smile, “Good.” • Jihoon ignores the comment, and goes to his room again, trying to figure out what could possibly be keeping Soonyoung there. • He tells Jeonghan and Seungcheol about what Soonyoung said, and Jeonghan smiles. • “He’s gay! You’re gay! Perfect.” • Seungcheol punches his boyfriend’s arm lightly. • “Stop trying to make Jihoon fuck ghosts.” • Jihoon tries to ignore the weird look a guy at the table next to them gives. • Seungkwan, who works at the coffee shop they’re currently at, sits down next to Jihoon. • “I’m on break, let’s have a housewarming party at your house.” • Their other friend who works there, Seokmin, overhears as he is cleaning the table. • “Right now? But I’m working.” • Seokmin gives a frown, and Seungkwan glares at him. • “Not right now, dumbass. I still have a shift after my break.” • “Plus Hansol wouldn’t be able to come right now,” Jeonghan teases, which earns a kick under the table from Seungkwan. • “We’re not having a party at my apartment,” Jihoon refuses.
Song for the Playlist - Wonderwall by Ryan Adams (cover)
Instagrams are here - (none for this chapter because the app is being a dick)
Word Count - 4250…ish
“Just gotta be safe, love,” he whispered.
“My protector,” she said back into his ear and a shiver ran down his spine.
He manoeuvred them until she was lying flat on the bed and he could straddle her thighs and view her perfect body from above, and leaned down to kiss her lips once again. Her hands ruffled through his hair as he abandoned her lips to find her jaw, nipping at her and his hands lingered at her neck, tickling, until he moved further down and found a perfect spot to suck on to.
Her breath hitched at his teeth on her neck, a slight moan coming from her mouth and her grip on his hair tightening until he pulled away wishing the small bruise would appear that second to mark her as his.
I really hope you like this. If you find any errors, since no one has yet read beta, let me know. I’m always happy about feedback!
Reader x Josh Dun words: 1933 warnings: thunder storm
Lighting bolts lit the sky and it took the thunder
only seconds to follow up. The sound was so loud you even heard it through your
head phones. You took them off and was surprised how loud the storm raged
outside. The sky was black and purple with a hint of red and a deep sigh
emerged from your lips. This was not the way you had imagined tonight. A loud
noise from next door and you sighed again – this time: angered. Maybe something
fell again? Maybe the weird neighbour, who never seemed to be home except for
when you needed a break, was up to some new sports trend again? You didn’t
know. The only thing you knew was that he was extremely annoying.
You paused the sitcom friends that flickered on the screen and got up. Tonight’s plan
actually had been to stay inside and watch friends
with friends. But messages had popped up on your phone all night, telling you
your friends were too scared to leave their flats during the storm. But fine,
then some wine and the show would do fine for yourself, too.
A lightning cracked over the sky and lit up the
apartment for a moment so bright you thought it was daytime again, before all
turned black and the thunder rolled over the city once more. Hopefully this
won’t result in…, you thought to yourself but too late. Suddenly all lamps went
off and the TV screen went pitch black as well.
You walked over to the switches to check
whether it really was a power blackout or not. But as you tried the switches
three four times and the lamps wouldn’t turn on again, you sighed again. This
was about to turn out as the worst night of the year so far. You could hear the
guy from next door curse but then it was quiet again.
Gathering all candles that you owned with the
flashlight of your smartphone, a reliable source of light was built around the
couch. The collection of birthday candles, scented candles and normal tea
lights must have looked weird with the lights turned on, but right now,
spreading warm light and being a source of comfort, you were glad to have them
The one noise that distraught you was a silent,
shy knock on the door, just as you had settled on the couch with a blanket and a
book. You sighed. Again. Then you got up to look who was out there. It turned
out to be your neighbour from next door. Even though it was pitch black
outside, the light from the candles lit his bright yellow hair and a smile lit
up his face. “Hi, I’m… Josh. From next door. I was hoping you’d be here.”, he
said hasty and his hand rushed through his hair, dishevelling it even more than
it already was. “I wanted… well, this is gonna be awkward, but I wanted to ask
whether you have something to eat?”, he paused and looked at his feet, his
hands intertwined with each other, restless.
Raising one eyebrow you looked at him. “Uhm,
don’t you have anything yourself?”, was the first thing you asked and you could
see that this was not the reaction he’d hoped for.
“Well, I just came home today from tour and
wanted to get home tomorrow, but I can’t even leave the building because the
elevator isn’t working without the power and so I can’t even order pizza or
anything and…”, he mumbled and his voice got faster and faster while his hands
kneaded themselves restlessly.
“Hey”, you said and softly laying a hand on
his, just for a second to make him stop with all the kneading. “I bet there
will be something in the fridge. Come in.”, with saying that you stepped aside
and he entered your flat. The hall was dark and you could not see a thing so
you closed the door quickly and turned around only to see Josh looking at the
candles. He still looked pretty nervous about this but there was the smile
again. “(y/n) is it, right?”, he asked you and looked up, squinting his eyes a
little to see you in the dark of the door where you still were standing.
“Yup”, you answered, trying to sound casual,
but it flattered you that he remembered your name, while all the time you were
angered by him you never even tried to learn his name. “Well…”, you said,
moving to the fridge a little awkwardly, “let’s see whether we got something to
eat for you.”
While walking to the fridge you could hear him
sit down on the couch. That was a pro and a con of living in a flat where kitchen,
living room and bed room are the same thing. With a tiny panic attack, you
looked over at your bed, but relieved you realised that you had made it look
extra cosy because your friends actually wanted to come around.
“Your flat looks nice”, Josh said from the
couch and you could not help but smile. He didn’t seem to be as annoying as you
always thought. “Well, thanks. It’s small and I wish I could afford a bigger
one, but I am quite happy.”, you said and opened the fridge. “Okay, we have
sandwiches, we have ice cream that will melt if we don’t eat it and we have
home made salsa sauce and I bet I’ll find the doritos somewhere.”, you said
while getting up, turning around only to face Josh directly. He stood right in
front of you, grinning at you. All his nervousness seemed to have faded.
Five minutes later you sat together on the
couch, each of you eating a sandwich and drinking the wine you had bought for
your friends. “So”, you started a conversation as your mouth was empty. “Back from
tour, huh? You’re in a band?”
“Yeah, I play the drums in a band called Twenty
One Pilots. Tyler and I, that’s… well, the band, we’re making… well… I should
show you some time what kind of music we make.”, he said and smiled at you.
“Ah, that’s the noise then.”, you said before
you could hold yourself back and Josh shot you a dazzled look. “I mean… I bet
you practise when you’re here, right?”
“Yeah, but I had no idea you could still hear
me. I will have to check the walls again. I thought I had made sure to not
The more you talked with Josh, the more you
were at ease with this stranger sitting next to you on your couch. He told you
about being on tour and the concerts. Also he talked a lot about Tyler and his
music. How he missed home and his family. It was really touching, but he also
asked a lot of questions about your life, your job and your favourite bands.
The storm outside was still raging on and the
electricity wasn’t back yet. As you got to the ice cream, a new wave of thunder
was rolling over you and it sounded as if it was directly over your house.
Josh’s spoon slipped out of his hand that started to shake uncontrollably
again. He looked up at the ceiling and bit his lip.
“Don’t worry”, you said, your voice all soft
and comforting. “It will be over soon. And I’m here. I’m here with you until
it’s all over.” Putting your ice cream aside you slid closer towards Josh,
taking his box of ice cream out of his hands and placing it on the ground
before taking his shaking hands in yours.
“They’re all sweaty”, he mumbled and wanted to
pull back, but you could hear his voice shaking. “I don’t mind”, you answered
and he pressed his eyes close, inhaling deep. “I’m so sorry I am putting you
through this it’s just…”, he started, his eyes still closed. Your thumbs drew
little circles on the back of his hands while you still held them. “I don’t
cope too well with thunder storms and the noise…”
Another loud thunder cut off his voice and you
could hear him taking in air sharply. “Don’t you worry.”, you said, moving even
closer and stroking his back.
“I’m a stranger to you”, he said quietly.
“You’re my neighbour and we help each other
out.”, you insisted and smiled a little. Josh was nice and, what you only just
now seemed to notice, smelled nice as well. “I will keep you company”, you
raised your voice over another loud crack of thunder, “until this is over,
alright?” “Alright”, he answered. His head rested on your shoulder and his
breath stroked over the bare skin on your neck, sending shivers down your
spine. Your hand stroke up and down on his back and you could feel his breath
getting more and more stable, more and more calm.
Without any idea on how long you’ve sat there,
you suddenly opened your eyes. You must have fallen asleep on the couch. Your
arms were still around Josh and his head rested on your shoulder, as yours did
on his. His arms held you tight and you noticed a tattoo that showed under his
sleeve. His breath went steadily, deeply. He was still asleep. Your left foot
had fallen asleep and you tried to move it to get the numbness away, but
instead, Josh moved in your arms. He woke up.
“Are you okay?”, were the first words he
mumbled and his voice sounded deeper than before. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s fine. I just think my foot… not
enough blood, you know?”, you stammered, still overwhelmed with his smell,
He yawned and then his grip around you got
tighter. “I got a solution for this”, he mumbled and then he stood up, carrying
you in his arms.
“Uhm, Josh?”, you said but he only shook his
head. “No, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”, he said and walked over to your bed.
You caught a glimpse on the alarm clock. 4:23am. Not the time to get up or send
someone away to their own bed. So you let Josh place you on your bed before he
slid under the blanket next to you, wrapping his arm around you and burying his
face in your hair. “Thanks, (y/n)”, he mumbled before drifting off back to
It took some time again for you to fall asleep
yourself, but as you woke up the next morning, you had to admit that you’d
never slept as well as with him next to you. But where was he?
Your bed was empty and even the ice cream from
yesterday night had been thrown away in the bin. You looked around, listening
for sounds in the bathroom but nothing. He left. Sighing you got up and
stretched. When you got up, you noticed a note that laid on the ground. The
handwriting was orderly and a little heart was drawn on the bottom of the page
next to his name. It said:
Dear (y/n), thanks for letting me stay over the
night. I left at seven but you looked so peaceful, so I decided not to wake you
up. Here’s my number, call me. I’ll be back from visiting the family end of the
week. Let’s go out. Have a real date. But please, with ice cream at the end.
And maybe this time for cuddling (best cuddles) and sleeping ;) my place?
Rhink AU : Link is mute, but the emotions that he feels will show up around him. The bigger, darker, and obvious the writings, the stronger that feeling is. His emotions are always so simple, but since he met Rhett even he can’t find the words to explain his feelings.
I had this idea so I just made a random sequence of drawing of how this story could play out ^^
SONG TRACK: All I Ask by Adele and You’re Not in Love with Me by the Youtube user Jemwhisper. (The last one is optional; I saw it on accident and I went OH LOOK IT’S A VISUAL FOR EVERYTHING SO FAR, INCLUDING LYDIA’S DYNAMIC WITH HOWARD. Yes, I’m really going to make you cry)
I grew up as a Catholic, went through
the rituals of baptism and even catechism. Which up to this day I’m not entirely
sure what that actually means. This just shows how much of a Catholic I am. To
be honest I never really understood why I went through all that, but I guess peer
pressure can often take you to places you never intended to go to. This remains
true to this day, although to a lesser extent. I think.
Interestingly enough I consider my
family as half-heartedly religious. By that I mean, the only person I
considered religious in my family was my father. Sunday churches, prayers
before dinner, my dad was central in reminding us to do these religious chores.
Everyone else just went with the flow of the spiritual (and moral) ideals of
the man of the house.
Although I was never particularly
religious, and have now perhaps shaken off whatever Catholic/Christian labels I
have left in me (not that I had much to begin with that is), I did always know though
based on this religious upbringing that I was a minority in Indonesia. The
obligatory religious identity written on our national identity cards constantly
reminded me of this. However, I didn’t at that time understand the implications
of having such an identity even if it was purely administrative purposes.
However, to be honest, my experiences of
growing up as a minority didn’t necessarily make me feel like a minority. Even
if most of my schooling that I went through in Indonesia, which amounts to a hefty
11 years of my youth, were mostly in private Catholic schools, the schools and
universities were open to non-Catholics. And so, I made friends, very good
friends with non-Catholics, non-Christians, and of course with many Muslims. The
predominant religion in Indonesia.
This was never an issue for me. As my
own late grandfather from my mother’s side was a Muslim and a huge chunk of my
family up until this day are Muslims. The majority-minority labels and the
baggage that comes with it were not non-existent but just unimportant in my
life. It was a bit foreign or even odd if someone were to bring it up trying to
solidify a magical boundary between us and them. Religion was never a hindrance
towards building family ties, friendship or even my own personal pursuit in
finding love. I think I can honestly say that building relationships with
people of differing religious backgrounds was just normal. Mundanely normal.
I had the naivety (and to be honest I
think I still continue to do so) that the difference in personal religious
beliefs could always be transcended by the realization of how as human beings
we are fundamentally no different from each other. Physically, emotionally and first
and foremost existentially. Everyone had blood coursing through their veins,
feeding their minds and hearts that gives birth to emotions that we all can
understand and relate to. And everyone has and will continue to ask, some through
openly written pieces and public discourses, some secretly during their morning
showers, of the meaning of life or how to have a meaningful life or variations
of this question.
Basically, I just saw religious
differences as inconsequential in building relationships, again be
it romantic or platonic, as we all are tormented by the same wish to understand
our existence, our individual importance in a vast sea of people.
somewhat fatalist view of diversity is I guess the reason why I felt that I
could connect, befriend, be respected, and be truly loved by all regardless of
their religious beliefs. Which then made me feel part of something bigger than
myself. I had a sense of belonging with the society, my Indonesian society. My
approach to religious diversity was of course, I soon found out, not shared by
all, not even many.
this a few years later and it is overtly apparent that Indonesia is embroiled
in sectarian tensions and conflicts and it turns out, to my dismay, has
historically always been that way. Perhaps not as alarming as today but
nonetheless it is nothing new.
In the past
few years, I’ve witnessed how some of my personal relationships with friends,
neighbours, family, have changed. Outlooks on life, social values and morals
have been reshaped through a more conservative and many times segregated lens. Collective
ideas or wishes of where Indonesia should be headed have become vastly
different. A widening gap of the social imagination imagined by the divided imagined
I find it
sad if not tragic that my own academic research only reaffirms this, and it
seems that Rara’s research so far also confirms this.
times like this, I feel disconnected, disenchanted, alienated & most
definitely I feel powerless. I feel that my connection with this nation-state
called Indonesia, that my citizenship, my legal, cultural, emotional connection
with the land I was born in is useless and pointless.
And I write this in English, not in my so-called native tongue of
Indonesian. With the reason being English is the language I grew up with (due
to the privilege of having a highly-educated family). English has become my
most fluent language, the one that I am most comfortable with, it is the
language I think in. If I were to use Indonesian in speaking, my brain would
take a few precious seconds translating it before sputtering it out. It has
helped me though to listen more, deep listening, that it in itself is quite
positive I reckon. Especially living in a society where people are wanting more
to be heard. If I were to use Indonesian for writing, it is a tremendously
taxing effort, thankfully for this I have Rara to help me edit many of my
writings. And I truly understand that by using English as my main communicating
language I am alienating myself even further.
I am a minority in many ways aside from my ‘legal religion’ or my ideas on life
I do though
find the innocence of many Indonesians amusing if not briefly alluring when
they talk how beautiful Indonesia’s natural scenery is, or how diversely unique
Indonesia is, or how resource rich Indonesia is blessed with and most certainly
how patriotic Indonesians are with their red and white flags. Often quite
excessively. Sometimes even drawing from historical footage of our brave
forefathers fighting against Dutch and Japanese colonialism to make their point.
They all seem to be blissfully unaware of the deep-seated issues continuously
dividing Indonesians. Issues of religious and social conservatism, ahistorical understandings
and normalized injustices just to name a few, so deeply ingrained within the
consciousness of many.
say then that ignorance is bliss. But then I would think that we would then be
unaware how often unseen structural forces governs our lives. We would live
life, at many times in anger, sadness or even despair yet oblivious of its deep
structural causes. Then if that is the case, does knowledge of which give us the
impenetrable sight to see these determining hands of our lives, also provide us
with the pleasure of knowing such a thing? Does knowing give us hope? Is hope
essentially about not only knowing more of the conditions in which we live in but
also by knowing these conditions we would then find some form of solution that
gives us hope in return.
I feel more
of a minority today than when I was in high school or university which come to
think of it was more than 10 years ago. To have gained the knowledge to see how
remnants of colonialism, a gripping hold of state capitalism, seeping
neoliberalism, persistent feudalism, ever-growing fundamentalism, consuming
consumerism, and a dumbing education system have all been rolled into one. This
knowledge is either damning or enlightening or a sad mixture of both,
reflecting nothing more than the contradictory nature of the human being. It is
not just the condition of which my society is in that I often weep for, but the
lack of progress within these shameful areas that disheartens me. I do in many
way feel hopeless.
I am sure
Indonesia will become “makmur” or
wealthy in the near future. Economists have prophesied this, partially thanks
to our abundance in population and our unhinged consumeristic lifestyle. But the
increase of wealth does not automatically translate into a more critical,
inclusive, democratic citizen, which we desperately need in a precarious time
such as now. We would need much more than wealth. Nor does Indonesia’s damning
current education system provide such a thing. Those who only actively support
such a system, in whatever they do, I only see them as accomplices in preserving
the uncritical state of Indonesia’s citizens.
What I then
struggle with now is the constant oscillation between hope and hopelessness,
the comprehension and acceptance of my current reality and the possibility of some
kind of better future. I am looking for a more consistent form of hope.
Come to think of it, it would be foolish for me to define the singular
nature or source of hope. Hope I’ve come to realize, can be one, it can be
many, it can move wildly from one to another. It can evolve from one to many,
or be reduced from many to one. Hope is everything that gives value to one’s
I guess this is
where my fusion of social sciences, which I understand is becoming more
grounded in Marxist-Freirean views on critical citizenship, and engaged Buddhism
kicks in. Where I’ve noticed over the years has become a constant endeavour to
find consensus between the two (liberation theology of revolutionists from
South America is a clear influence to this though). As what gives value to
one’s life, to my life, is what I consider to be deeply personal, a deep
insight into the self yet at the same time intertwined with being more
empathetically responsive to my socio-political milieu.
my interest and empathy towards society is one of the main driving force of my
social activities, what gives me hope to act towards societal injustices
resides within my personal relationships. Especially my relationship with Rara.
This I’ve noticed can become an issue. I often would think what it would be like
if she is no longer here with me? What would happen to me?
I am afraid
to lose Rara, as my life clearly rotates around her presence. That is why I
fear the inevitable. What do you do when you have the experiential knowledge
that life will end? What do you do with this understanding? What do you do when
you try to escape from this, and realize that you will only eventually return
to this. That there is no escape, only temporary forgetfulness or deliberate
denial. What if I were the one to pass away? What would happen to Rara?
perhaps not only my source of hope, but she is hope itself. It is what the anthropologist Michael D. Jackson, while studying
the Kuranko tribe of Sierra Leone, calls on alternative names of hope. Rara is
the alternative name of hope for me. She is what gives value and meaning in my
life. Other issues, I can clearly attest to this, are secondary.
I do though
realize I ask these questions because I am traumatized, greatly traumatized by
my father’s quick and sudden death 5 years ago. And I’ve realized it has been
that long and I have yet to move on from it. I guess I’ve come to accept that
there is no magic cure for grief, no magic drug that can easily lift this
burdensome pain away. You end up just living with it, carrying it everywhere,
every time. During your highest and proudest moments in life, during the lowest,
most depressing moments in life. Both of which amplifies grief. One through the
desire to share your achievements with your loved one, whom you then realize is
no longer here. The other is when you have nothing and wish your dad, who
you realize is no longer here to come back for a brief moment and give you a
pat in the back or a nice simple encouraging warm hug. And let us not also
forget that we carry grief most often in the everyday mundanity of life.
is why grief is excruciatingly oppressive.
But until another excruciating day comes, I’ll be carrying this hope close with
me wherever I go, and whatever I do. My work has to have value and meaning and
for it to have value and meaning it has to come from a place of value and
meaning. I remain hopeful of the world and of Indonesia and humanity in general
because hope is the only thing that keeps us all from being pointless.
And watching the world pass by, at times with elongated sighs, I genuinely understand how easy it is to fall prey to the bottomless pit of futility.
Rereading what I just wrote, that probably didn’t make any sense, but hey at least I finally updated my blog after a year even if it was just unfinished thoughts.
Same old rant about KS and Canon; read at your own risk ?
Warning: It’s LONG as fuck also I’m salty af.
As a KS shipper you’ve probably encountered a few thick headed haters who lack common sense and the definition of a few words, and believe me I’ve met my fair share of those and some more
But it’s a little stupid when you think about it isn’t it?
People jump over to the ‘he’S SO MUCH OLDER EW ITS ABUSIVE’ as if being in a relationship with an older person means you’re being bullied and discriminated against (how damned idiotic is that really?)
So you’re telling me that age difference is abusive but being ignored and treated as less than you are by your lover is not? And that being with an older male is cruel but being with one that tried to kill you is not? Excuse me but what textbook did you read and where the hell did you receive your education?
I’m really sick and tired of the way everyone throws the word ‘abusive’ around so much that it almost loses it’s impact.
And the lame ol’ ‘that’s pedophilia’ bullshit.
Honey do you even know what 'pedophilia’ is? What it means? Because if you think that shipping adult Sakura with adult Kakashi is that then you definitely don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Pedophilia is having sexual feelings directed towards CHILDREN. And in case you missed it it’s ADULT Sakura with ADULT Kakashi and that involves 0 children.
And lol, just because he knew her when she was 12, it doesn’t mean he LIKED her when she was 12.
'Agshsksk EW HE WAS HER TEACHER’
Bitch where? I ain’t even going to PRETEND he was her teacher because let’s face it, he taught her about 0 things. Can’t even count the tree climbing exercise as something he taught her because she already excelled at it. I’ll only give him credit for teaching her teamwork.
Kakashi was assigned Team 7 when they were 12 and they were together for a few months until they entered the chuunin exams and then Sasuke left and Naruto went with Jiraiya and Sakura went to Tsunade for training.
Tsunade is her teacher. She’s the one who trained her and taught her what she knew. She’s the one who turned her into the person she is and was responsible for her growth as a woman and a shinobi.
So as far as I’m concerned he is to her what Naruto, Sai and Sasuke are: a teammate.
I think it’s horrible that people would go to such far lengths to turn something sincere and beautiful into something so ugly and disgusting. I don’t give a shit if they’re not canon and I definitely don’t give a shit if my ship’s existence somehow offends you (really? Get a hobby).
I already know my ship only exists in fan fiction but you know what? That’s what makes it better. It wasn’t royally fucked by the creator nor were it horribly damaged with everyone out of character. They’re not a married couple that barely interact with the husband as a workaholic or a deadbeat dad. They don’t have children who don’t recognise their father or loath him.
My fandom is blessed with amazing writers that can take these two characters with their same personalities and pasts and create the most realistic beautiful love story that you wonder why the fuck is it not what happened.
And I don’t mean that if people don’t ship KS that their ship sucks but I’m so tired of being told MY ship sucks. Lol, no it doesn’t. If anything sucks it’s your imagination that turns something so pure into something disgusting.
That said, the canon ships DID have potential to be great (to a degree) but then the creators went ahead and completely ruined that so I do sympathise with you if you ship canon since they kinda fucked you over with that lame-ass plot and half-hearted attempts. I’m not a genius nor am I particularly talented with writing/plotting but I’m not above admitting even I could’ve done better than that. They set the bar pretty fuckin low. My sincerest apologies.
I keep thinking if I were still a SS shipper (thank god I’m not) I would’ve wanted Kishi’s head on a platter. I think that’s the worst ending EVER. Holy shit, I would’ve been furious. I would’ve hated his guts (kinda do anyway). I would’ve wished he NEVER made them a thing just so I could keep my fantasy of them having a happy ending a THING. But hey, that’s just me.
I must say though this rant should not be takin personally it’s a fuckin rant after all. If you’re an unfortunate SS/NH/whatever the fuck shipper that stumbled upon this and is offended, don’t be, it’s a fuckin opinion. Don’t send me hate because in all likelihood I will give as much a shit about it as Sasuke gives a shit about his teammates; barely. Just block me and move on, be the bigger person or whatever.
The only place SS and NH will make any sense is fan fiction, and that’s just the truth. The sooner you accept it, the better.
Gotta give credits to the artists though, they do a pretty good job of making them look appealing in art.
『 Note: Once again, I made this so much longer than I intended! It started well in my head, but I struggled and tripped up so many times. This also inspired a separate piece, so I promise to do better come next time around. I’ve been practicing writing and have a long way to go, but I have to start somewhere. Anyways! Be sure to read part onehere! 』
“Here I am, rambling, when I should be silent.” You whispered, lowering your head slightly as your hands rested in your lap. What you tried to ignore, were your fingers trembling. You couldn’t focus, and forcing yourself to be at peace was not going to help. You mind kept racing and you knew yourself better than to try to keep your calm facade while troubled. “My apologies, Genji.”
Both you and Genji were sitting side by side, the soft wind dancing around your figures as you sat in lotus position. Looking ahead to the wilderness around you, you lowered your eyelids and exhaled through your nose. You sat in a shaded area in the center of cherry blossom trees, miles away from the bustling city. The quiet was always your preference, as it allowed you to feely think without any distractions.
Today, however, you were accompanied by a particular person to relish in the quiet scenery. Following your initial meeting with Zenyatta, you managed to convince the Omnic through facial expressions — and just your general connection of him throughout the years — to assist you in finding a calm area to meditate with his student. It might seem carefree to some, but for you, this was overwhelming.
It wasn’t until you sat down, later, that you realized Zenyatta was nowhere to be found. He had left you alone with him. You wanted to scream, but you knew that would not only concern Genji, but make you look all the more ridiculous. Exhaling once again, you decided that you would address it later, as something more occupied your thoughts.
You turned to Genji, but only for a moment. You knew it was rude to stare, and while not exactly knowing the fullest extent of his backstory, you respected him enough not to be that person about his appearance.
What made matters worse, was that Genji was very quiet. Granted he was polite and respectable to those he favoured, but he was not the one to always engage in conversation. The only times you would refer to him as “talkative” would be through his interactions with his master; otherwise, he was silent. He carried himself well in that regard, and always watched. It drew you to him, his silence, and your curiosity did always get the better of you.
“You seem nervous.” His sudden voice broke you from your distracted trance. Blinking, you smiled meekly as a response. “What seems to be on your mind?”
You is what you wanted to say, but you knew better than to make yourself look even more awkward than you already did. “It’s just… A person has been troubling me. “ You cursed yourself inwardly for simply letting yourself admit that, because now it became that kind of conversation, and with your crush, no less. Following those words, you held up your hands defensively. “N-Not in a life-threatening way, of course. I’m not in a life or death kind of situation…”
While it was a bit windy, the weather was nice enough to distract you. Genji did not rush your speaking, and remained still as you attempted to explain yourself. Soft, pink petals floated to the ground from nearby cherry blossom trees as you fiddled with your clothes. Your [colour] eyes couldn’t help but follow their every pattern as you would occasionally stammer in-between words. It was very important for you not to meet his stare.
“I wanted to seek meditation to come to terms with that. How I should… Distract myself from it, or at the very least…” You watched as he tilted his head, as if intrigued. You then added, “I wanted to… I wanted to meditate with you in private because I wanted to hear your take on it. H-How would you go about it?”
The entire time you spoke, you felt his gaze through his green visor, but refused to make direct eye contact. It was a strong, attentive look, and it made you flustered. The fact that you not only were in close proximity to him, but having his eyes on you made your heart beat faster. You shyly looked at separate parts of him and would then redirect your attention to your surroundings. It only made your face hotter, and you did your best not to seem too obvious.
“That is quite the predicament,” he sighed, letting a petal land in his cybernetic hand, “one that I wish I could assist you with, though I may not have the answers. Have you confronted this person?”
“Absolutely not,” you quickly responded, shaking your head, “if anything, I’d make myself a bigger fool than I already have. Or, well, would. It’s… Complicated.”
“How so?” The younger Shimada was intrigued.
“Trying to speak to someone you admire is… Frustrating. Concerning. Stressful,” you released yourself from your former position. You brought your knees to your chest and hated how you couldn’t look directly at him. “Especially when you…”
“Ah.” Genji pieced it together, releasing a small noise. Little did you know that in his younger years Genji had many times where he chased frivolous pursuits. Lifting his head, he looked to the collection of cherry blossom petals and watched as they swayed in the direction of the wind. You glanced over at him, and he noticed, albeit subtly.
You swallowed, beating yourself up as to why you didn’t tell him — haven’t told him yet. Of course, it would be weird, you thought, you’re always a mess around him and neither of you have obligation to one another. For you to tell him your feelings would be strange. You shook your head again, playing the different scenarios through your mind and trying to find a reasoning as to your situation.
“I know I may not be the best for this,” He consoled, “I’m sure Master is much more suited.” He heard you laugh, almost a defeated laugh and focused on your movements as he continued, “Though I wouldn’t mind being support for you.” He paused for just a moment before adding, “You seemed very flustered earlier when speaking together. I wondered if you were uncomfortable around me.”
Your eyes widened at his statement and you faced him. “N-No, no, I promise, that was not it at all. If I were uncomfortable, I would’ve told you, and Zenyatta. You don’t think I’m uncomfortable around you all the time, do you? I mean, from the times you are here. I mean, I don’t…” Yet again you were rambling. He saw how embarrassed you were, how red your cheeks were. Gosh, you hated how much of a mess you were. “I just…” You turned away and mumbled something underneath your breath.
“If anything, I wondered if I made you uncomfortable. You’re always distant, so I hesitated on asking. I sought Zenyatta, and…“
“For the amount of years you have known me, you should’ve known I would be willing to listen. You’re very nice to be around,” Nodding, he detached his swords from his person, the sound of metal clinging through your ears, and placed them next to him.
What Zenyatta said was true. You had affection towards the ninja, and hated how not only obvious you felt you were, but embarrassed you were on the subject. There was silence, and you wished you could’ve removed yourself from the situation. Did he find offense to what you said, you wonder? Self-doubt began to splatter across the walls of your mind, and you were unsure of what to do. Breathing, and rubbing your hands together, you began to calm yourself.
“I’m sorry, Genji,” you whispered, “this must just be odd for you.”
“Not at all.” The entire time he was simply observing you. He kept his hands on his lap, lowering his eyelids underneath his visor. Your motions were interesting to him. “I’m more concerned with how you are feeling. After all, you did request I be at your side today.”
“Just forget it,” you shrugged, exhaling. This was not the way you wanted to go about things, nor present yourself. I apologize. This was a silly idea to do,” You turn to him with another weak smile, a defeated smile. After this, you felt you had no chance. You gave up on yourself, and Genji sensed that. He remained quiet, narrowing his eyes as you began to tremble. You began to retreat into yourself, but did your best to keep a calm composure.
“Hopefully, one day, he — they may…” You began to guess, not caring you let the pronoun slip, “… I don’t know.” You removed your hands from around your knees and placed them on the grass beside you. “… Maybe return how I feel. How much I… li-” A slight smile tugged at your lips, signaling yourself to stop, and you closed your eyes. Part of you felt better releasing your inner feelings to the cyborg, though it was bittersweet. Why was this so upsetting and conflicting for you? Regardless, you concluded the topic became mundane and decided to drop it.
A sudden coolness engulfed you, or at least the right side of your body. It was in sync with the strong gust of wind that travelled from you to the many cherry blossom trees surrounding you both. It put you at ease, as if the winds swept you in a calming embrace. You felt water build at the corners of your eyes, but would be damned if you let them fall.
Slowly opening your eyes, you soon pieced together why you felt the chill through your spine. A flush of crimson painted your cheeks, and you didn’t dare to look to your left. You shyly turned your head away, goosebumps tingling from one arm to the other. Genji’s steel hand covered yours, his body much closer to yours than you remember, and focusing solely on you. You remained still, making sure you weren’t hallucinating and steadied your breathing. How you hadn’t fainted from the amount of blood rushing to your face was astounding. His grip became slightly firm, but not too rough; just enough to know he was there.
“Genji?” you questioned hesitantly, looking to your hands together, then finally up to him.
While you couldn’t see it, he smiled underneath his faceplate. A low, playful chuckle came from him before he spoke, “You would be surprised.”
“They have crossed each other many times. On the sunflower
field, in the capsule, somewhere along the empty corridors of Ashford Academy.
There were times when they were only one foot step apart. There were times when
an arm length was the only thing that stood between them. But then the door shut
off, the glimpse of light died out and their paths continued to run parallel,
close to each other but never touched. They were aware of another existence yet
never made effort to yearn for it. Until the right time came.
There have been so many possibilities, so many what-ifs,
what could have happened. Suzaku could have befriended C.C. during her stay in
Japan. She could have run into him in a school festival. Suzaku could have
remembered the green-haired girl that he’d saved back then on the battle in
Narita. But those things never took place; it had not been the right time yet. Destiny
is when you meet right people at the right moment. Zero Requiem is not something
God dropped onto them out of the blue; their souls had unconsciously seek for a
chance to merge into one, and when it came, they did not hesitate to advance.
So people asked me whether I wish things between them could
have been different. I used to, yes; but now that I think about it, could their
meeting in the middle of a cheerful school festival have had a bigger impact on
me, than when they met after being abandoned together by the rest of the world?
What made the pair special was not only their chemistry, but also the timing.
It was beautiful, it was tragic and meant to be, it was destiny.”
disliked by a lot of people. And yes she has her flaws. She sometimes speaks
without thinking and she doesn’t always has her priority straight. But she is
not a bad person! She just tries her hardest to fit in. To be normal among her
peers. She doesn’t want to stand out, she just want to fit in, and doesn’t
always know how to do that.
I’ve written a few posts about Vilde, because I do
have such a soft spot for her. I mirror myself in a coulpe of the characters, and
Vilde is definitely one of them. I wanted a Vilde season SO so bad, and the
Vilde clip in the last eps just made that wish even bigger.
I think a Vilde
season could have shown so much character growth and addressed some really
important topics that so many young people are dealing with… And most importantly,
issues that people often are dealing with in the hidden because of shame and taboo.
Vilde’s season would have been one of the most important one in my opinion.
Hi! Since you really really love Jason and Piper won't you please tell me your take on the whole Hera Making Them fall for each other and them just kinda accepting it after they got their memories back? I mean, I totally ship it, but that part has always made me uncomfortable... (Also sorry this isn't part of your ask thing RN, but it just occurred to me you might've thought of a great explanation here...)
hey there :D i’m not too great at explaining things, but i’ll give it a shot.
first up! hera didn’t make them fall for each other, they did that on their own throughout the books. what hera did do: she planted fake memories in piper and leo’s head to (mostly) entice them towards him, as a friend and as a crush. kind of like bait, to keep them together, except that all backfired when annabeth pointed out to piper “do you actually know him?” turns out, she did not. neither did leo. but they accepted him anyway, because they had glimpses from fake memories of what he could be: a good friend. piper, sure, wanted him to be something else–but she never made him feel obligated to fulfil any of that. jason spent the majority of TLH telling himself “oh god, she’s so cute, and nice, and badass. but i can’t crush on her or lead her on, because i have no memories and that would be a huge dick move”. likewise, piper had moments of thinking “i wish it could be a thing, but it won’t be, i have bigger issues to worry about: and he owes me nothing.” (leo spent all of that time looking between them like “y’all are losers. are ya gonna kiss? no? good, saves me the bother of pretending not to notice lmfao”)
(also, it should be said: they didn’t hold him up to the standard of fake jason. they let him grow into his own person at his own rate in the books.)
as for the uncomfortable part: yeah, that part always peeved me off, too & they’re my otp. :/ i 100% see what you mean about not knowing how that particular roadblock was cleared. a huge part of that discomfort for me was not knowing how they even got together. that they were an official Thing was sort of explained in one line, from leo’s pov (in……the quest for buford, i think???) and it’s never even explained what happened with jason’s memories. did they come back all at once? did he remember things in bits and pieces??? did they get together before or after he remembered ??? none of that gets explained and it’s. really fucking annoying. rr has kind of consistently let me down in regards to developing the new cast, particularly jason (and frank/hazel/piper)’s relationships and, surprise surprise, his character. there’s no way around it and you have to admit, a lot of relationships (romantic, especially) were mentioned without proper elaboration, even ones that had been building up slowly through whole books (TLH/jasiper, SoN/frazel, HoH/caleo–you get the drift).
you’re going to have to take it with a grain of salt and decide for yourself how you think they got together. it depends VERY MUCH on how you see the characters/what you think their personalities are really like, and what actions are believable of them. in TLH, neither piper nor jason were very vocal about developing crushes on each other–which was understandable, considering their awkward situation. they admire each other a lot in their povs, get jealous over silly things involving each other, and even leo starts to notice whatever they are, outside the fake memories, is slowly becoming quite real. piper never pressures jason to like her back, jason blushes a shit ton because he has a lil puppy crush, and they’re adorably supportive of each other. in MoA u can see them easily talking their problems out, and just because they’ve had one conversation about it, it doesn’t mean that they stop reassuring each other on the issue bothering them (aka jason repeating “i told you, you’ve got nothing to be jealous of/we’re a team” to piper, and piper repeating “you don’t have to be invincible all the time/we’ll take turns saving each other”). obviously the memories are an ISSUE but they have shown they can work through it.
their entire relationship is totally up for interpretation. liiiiiike…….from a completely platonic standpoint, too, you can’t deny that they’re very very close friends. always on each other’s teams, putting each other ahead of themselves, and keeping each other grounded/happy. the fake memories may have affected them until jason got all his memories back, but it didn’t stop them from developing a pretty strong bond in between all that. i, personally, can’t see them getting together until jason was absolutely sure he wanted to be with her, made that choice on his own, and they were both comfortable enough with each other to think “yeah, this is real”
i’m still pissed we never got to see how they got together. things like who made the first move, how did they ask, how long did it take?? those things give relationships a shit ton more depth. but uh. we got vague mentions instead :/
I was going to say “remember when I used to make busts” but I only like 100 followers back when I did that somewhat frequently so I guess not? (in case you’re curious) Anyway I’ve always been too afraid to paint them, but today I came across some pictures I made of them “interacting” and figured I could colour the picture digitally. So here ya go, heh.