#learning excel even though I’ve never had to touch that program before

[numerousracoons]

You know, when the adults in my life told me all about ‘transferable skills’ and how ‘your hobbies can help you in life’ when growing up, I don’t think they thought that I’d be applying my research skills and sociology education to a 20 year old Russian game, learning how to use fucking excel to evidence a theory that descended into my brain in the depths of the night from on-high. But uh, here am I.

Pathologic Classic HD’s English translation is really fucking interesting.

Not necessarily because of the translation aspect (which is cool as shit, but I’m too much of a monolingual loser to comment on)- but because it was very clearly written by English people, as noted by the fact that it heavily uses English dialects of the English language (which is pretty distinct- most games made in English, and even more so translated into English, typically use US American English), and that that use of English dialects actually contains so many implications on the characters that are really interesting.

This is mainly because of how social class works in England, namely, that it’s less so economically based, and more cultural based.

In England your class isn’t entirely dictated by your income, but rather your way of living; the shops you go to buy food, the brands you use, the places you hang out, the people you talk to, and yes, the way you speak.

And obviously, Pathologic Classic, a game that is very dialogue heavy, ends up saying a lot about class and character’s relationships to class without actually directly telling you, by dropping hints through the ways that characters speak to one another.

And one character that I find particularly interesting in this regard (namely because there’s so much dialogue you can get from him and all of it tells a very interesting story when complied together), is Daniil Dankovsky, and the fact that, despite his current very middle class position (University graduate at highest level, has a job as a researcher, owns his own research lab) he most likely came from a working class background/family, and I know that because of the way this fucker talks.

And one day, when I’m not saddled with work I’m gonna write the equivalent to an essay on this and no one can stop me.

[solalunar-eclipse]

I am thinking incredibly hard about ancient secrets! Shadow and him pretending to be an organic person who breathes and is harmed by fire and can’t contort his body in ways that would absolutely be painful for anyone else. I haven’t read pt 3 of shrodinger’s hedgehog in a while before writing this so please forgive me if I mention stuff that’s noncanon lmao- I remember that he was raised like a normal person so maybe all the stuff I’m gonna mention is habit by now. I dunno.

He’s gotta run actlikeanormalperson.Exe like constantly. Except when he’s alone in the woods. Mental checklist.

- when’s the last time I blinked?

- am I breathing?

- how long have I just been standing here unmoving for?

- am I touching something commonly considered harmful?

- what are normal human joint limits like again

- have I been seen ‘eating’ recently or am i gonna have to worry about people thinking I have an eating disorder

First of all, I just wanted to briefly say how utterly delighted I am that even one person has Ancient Secrets on the brain at all. I’m so happy you’re enjoying it!!

As for Shadow, he absolutely does have to pretend about a lot of that stuff…which is an extremely helpful but unintentional (on his part) bonus of living alone in the woods in a cave! (Also, you haven’t mentioned anything non-canon at all—actually, I didn’t want to infodump too much about Shadow’s schematics in the fic because I was worried it would bore some people, but I’m totally going to take the chance to do it now :] )

By the way, I love the title “actlikeanormalperson.exe”, it’s just perfect both for Boom and Shadow XD I’ve actually only previously considered two out of these six, the others I hadn’t thought of (I was focusing more on “how can I make his body mimic an organic one as closely as possible” than what the differences were, so hopefully my answers will be good enough!)

-I didn’t even think about him blinking, but you’re so right! He does do it in the show, and it looks very natural, so I’m torn 50/50 between “he has an actual program for that” and “when he was little he saw Luna blinking and then practiced it in the mirror for days”, haha.

-as for breathing, that actually is something he does naturally, but not for the reasons organic creatures do! He circulates air to keep his electronics from overheating, because while the Ancients were very technologically advanced, they weren’t perfect (see Sonic’s mech for an excellent example). Luna wanted him to be able to live a life as close to organic as possible, so she tried to find reasons to give him various “living” behaviors. This does mean that she gave him coding for things like hyperventilating when having a panic attack too, though, even if she hoped he’d never have to use it.

-oh he would ABSOLUTELY forget to move sometimes. I feel like he probably learned to do this one while he was fighting Lyric in the defense forces, because people would give him weird looks when he just sat there not doing anything and going over battle plans in his head. Once again, I totally didn’t consider this, but honestly it’s such a good idea!!

-“touching something commonly considered harmful” is a tough one, because he’s had enough self-sacrificial moments that have impacted him to the point where he actively puts himself between harmful things like fire or poison and organic people. If asked about it he’d probably just brush it off and say something like “well, that seems like a you problem” prior to his friendship arc. The thing is, he acts like many people’s interpretations of game!Shadow where he does things that make his Ultimate status obvious but then treats them as things he’s obligated to do.

-luckily for him, he doesn’t have to think of joint limits very often, since most of his interactions with other people have involved fighting (which isn’t designed for people who can rotate their arms and legs 360 degrees, haha). It’s not really something he does much because he hasn’t seen organic people model that kind of behavior—although he did do it a couple of times when he was young and startled Luna, so he has a bit of a “hey maybe I shouldn’t reach over and backwards to pick something up from the counter behind me” reminder in the back of his head XD

-and as for food, eating it actually does give him energy! It isn’t needed to power his body, per se, since the crystal inside him can run indefinitely so long as it isn’t damaged, but he can absorb the Chaos energy from it and it’ll give him a little boost. He can work just fine without food, but he works even better with it. Of course, he doesn’t care what other people think (or he didn’t, rather), and he couldn’t be bothered with food, so he’s eaten very infrequently prior to spending time with his friends. Now, though, he usually gets an average of about one meal every 1-2 days, but his friends don’t know that he eats so little. If they did, they’d probably be trying to get him to eat more often.

[padme-parker]

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 6)

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: You go to Onderon and meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Another call to home ensues and hearts get broken.

Warnings: angst, maybe cursing, I can’t think of anything else. oh and bad plot lmao

WC: 4.0k

A/N: this isn’t proof read so it might be scuffed. 

read chapter 5 here

C O R U S C A N T

After the nightmares began, Anakin was rarely around, only making you more susceptible to the dark side. You truly did want to tell him about what had been keeping you up at night, but how were you going to contact him when he was never around and the connection the two of you shared was seemingly cut off? You weren’t able to feel his emotions nor feel his presence. It was as if he had blocked you off, almost like he was dead, but he wasn’t. You knew that he went on more campaigns as he was barely spending time in the temple, wanting to stay as far away from you. And if the two of you ever were in the same room by sheer luck, he pretended that you didn’t exist.

On days where both Anakin and Obi Wan were gone, you trained with a girl named Xin. In a way, she reminded you of the mandalorian Sabine: intelligent, strong, and creative. She was skilled with her lightsaber, but also greatly skilled in hand to hand combat, making her an excellent training partner. When all three of them were gone, you spent time learning binary after shortly being gifted a droid. R2-KT, or Kaytee as you liked to call her, accompanied you on your walks around the Jedi temple, often telling you random facts about it or Coruscant.

As time passed, you noticed how the council became weary of your presence. After noticing the color of your saber, which wasn’t hard to miss, the Jedi Masters seemed to focus their attention on you whenever you were in the room with them. You would have liked to believe that you had begun to earn their trust, but you understood their cautiousness towards you. Hell, you would’ve probably reacted the same way if someone came to Earth using a big stone hidden in the middle of nowhere claiming that the fate of the universe rested in their hands.

The halls of the temple were empty- excluding the sentinels- as you roamed around with Kaytee at your side. It was still so surreal being in the Jedi temple. Six months ago you were on Earth, spending time with your family. It seemed so long ago since you were first introduced to Star Wars.

You were foreign to the concept of bonding, spending time with your peers. After spending almost 17 years in foster care, you learned to not attach yourself. To become cold, detached, and observant of your surroundings. With your arrival to the tower, it became a shock to you when you found out that the team spent time together willingly. Some nights they played games like Uno and Cards Against Humanity. You would always sit in the corner and watch them, not comfortable enough to be engaging with them in such a way like that. On the nights where they watched movies, you would always sit in the furthest seat away from the group. It stayed like that until Peter started coming to the bonding nights.

Due to the fact that he was still young, he stayed with his Aunt May. Only coming to the tower to help Tony with his projects. So it was a surprise to see him there, but you couldn’t help feel more comfortable knowing that someone else your age was there.

“So, what’re we watching tonight?” He asked. The team let out a couple of groans, unsure of what they were getting into. “How about we watch Star Wars? I bet you those two grandpas haven’t seen it yet.”

“Hey! Watch it, Peter.” Steve said, putting his hand over his heart to feign hurt. All it took for him to apologize was one glance at Bucky. “Sorry Mister Winter- uhh James- Bucky-- no. Sir Barnes. And Steve.”

He goes to sit down, but before he does, he takes a survey of the room. He notices you sitting alone on the couch, “Hey, why don’t you come sit closer?” He asked. You shake your head, telling him that you were alright where you were. “What about you? Have you seen Star Wars?” You quickly shake your head, you see Peter’s eyes widen and he takes off to sit in the empty spot next to you.

“OMG. WHAT? How have you never seen the movies?”

“Not everyone has the privilege to have a normal childhood. I just so happened to be one of those kids.” You informed him.

“Right, sorry.” He apologized, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll love the movies though.”

Peter was right. After watching A New Hope, the team had retired to their respective rooms, but the two of you had stayed up all night finishing the movies. After watching all three trilogies, you had a new found obsession, especially for a certain Skywalker. Even though some people thought that Anakin was a bad character, and sure the script was really bad, you really did love him. So when he betrayed Obi Wan to save Padme, your heart couldn’t help but break. Poor man was so whipped for the pussy :( I guess you could call it to die for.

Although your time on Coruscant was limited, you did your best to enjoy it. The six months you had spent here so far had been a gift. The environment was truly mesmerizing, and you wanted to share it with Peter. You tried not to call him often, the time difference was just slightly confusing. While six months might’ve passed for you, it had only been a month for your family back home.

You were broken out of your reverie by the buzzing of your holocom, requesting your presence in the council room. Making your way into the room, you told Kaytee to wait by the doors. You stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasped behind your back, waiting for them to address you.

“Nice to see you it is.” Master yoda said. “A task for you, we have.”

A task? What could they possibly want you to do? There was no way they’d be sending you on a mission, they never did.

“We want you to travel to Onderon. They are celebrating their liberation from the separatists. I don’t know why but Anakin and Obi Wan would like for you to be present-” Before Mace can finish his sentence he is cut off.

“I believe what Master Windu is trying to say is that they would both like for you to experience what our galaxy has to offer.” Shaak Ti answered for him. “There will be other Jedi there too, but you will be traveling on your own.” She said. “Oh, and please keep in mind, this celebration is also being held in remembrance for Steela, their fallen leader.”

“Understood, may I leave now?” Master Yoda gave you a nod, allowing you to leave. You made your way to the hangar, Kaytee following close behind you. Well, it looks like it was time to see Anakin again.

-

O N D E R O N

Your journey to Onderon is short, but you take the time to fiddle with Kaytee. Cleaning her up to make her look presentable. Weeks after you were gifted the droid, you took the time to fix her up and reprogram her to your liking. With the touch of a button, you could make her record a hologram, send her your location, or gouge out someone's eye if needed. You truly did love your droid, and you thanked the stars that Stark taught you how to code, program, and build trinkets of your own.

Kaytee lands the ship with a heavy thud, “I know you're excited to see Artoo, but we need to be careful with this ship. It’s not ours.” You told her, and in return you get a series of apologetic beeps. The door opens with a hiss, you signal for Kaytee to follow you. Stepping off, you notice all of the other ships outside of Iziz. It was like all the entirety of the galactic senate was here, which you really didn’t doubt. You felt out of place in your Jedi robes. People were arriving in magnificent, mind blowing outfits. Gowns with tails that trailed far behind them and tuxes with flowy capes. This ball was going to have it all.

The bustle of the market only intensified with the oncomers. You had to make your way to the temple before you got distracted. By the time you reached the temple doors, the crowd lessened, or so you thought. Entering the temple, you were greeted at the sight of hundreds of people. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as people began to turn and stare at you. Screw the Jedi Council for not giving me a nice outfit to change into. Just as you were about to turn around and wander through the market, you heard your voice being called out. You tried to find where the sound was coming from, only to get confused and jolt your head around violently as if you were a loth cat.

“Alyra! Over here!.” Your feet began moving on their own accord. As if you were being drawn to a presence. You come to a screeching halt in front of.. Anakin, of course it's him. Why am I not surprised that the force has literally brought me to him? Along with Obi Wan, R2, and Padme. Oh my god, wait, it’s Padme. I could kiss her right now if I wanted to. But I won’t. That would be weird, won’t it. Kissing her in front of her husband, who is my-

“Alyra, are you alright?” Obi Wan asks, breaking you out of your internal ramble.

“Yeah, I was just...trying to take all of this in. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You responded, pretending to look around the temple.

“It seems like you space out a lot.” He jokes, a smile on his face before he realizes no one else is laughing. He rolls his eyes before continuing, “Anyways, welcome to Onderon. This is my good friend, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.” He turns to face her while he introduces you to her. You hold out a hand, expecting for her to shake it. Instead she walks up to you and takes you within her hold. She hugs you tightly, you can feel her protruding belly.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! Anakin has talked a lot about you.” Both you and Obi Wan furrow your brows at the mention of Anakin speaking of you. Padme is quick to notice this and corrects herself, “I mean of what he’s mentioned to me about you today. Right, Ani?” She validates.

“Yeah, only good things though.” He testified, avoiding your gaze. It was weird that he was mentioning you to his pregnant wife, what was there to talk about? Not to mention the fact that he had been avoiding your presence for months now.

You squinted your eyes at him, “I could only hope so, seeing as though we haven’t spoken in awhile.” you accused. What in the world is he up to now?

You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with a comeback, before he can utter a word, he’s interrupted by Padme.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room and get you changed.” Once again, you furrow your brows.

“Changed, what do you mean changed?” You ask her.

“What, did you think I’d just let you roam around the ball in those ugly Jedi robes? Come, I’ll let you borrow one of my dresses.” She drags you away by the arm, Anakin and Obi Wan shouting at her. Something about Jedi robes not being ugly, you couldn’t really hear with Padme’s giggles silencing them. Kaytee let’s out a giggle of her own as she follows you, Artoo’s personality rubbing off on her.

Padmé all but practically throws you onto your bed as she ushers one of her handmaidens, Teckla, to bring the dresses into your room. Teckla wheels in a rack filled with elegant looking dresses, along with a bunch of different heels. All looking like they could snap your ankle in half if you walked the wrong way. The first dress she hands you is body conforming up until it reaches your knees, from there it fans out creating a mermaid gown effect. While the dress itself was very beautiful, you thought of it to be too plain for an event like this. You and Padme both share a look before agreeing that this was in fact not the dress.

However, the next dress she hands you is a proper ball gown. You slip it on, taken aback by how heavy the dress was. She walks up behind you to tighten the corset of the gown. She does her best to tighten it up without hurting you, but you can’t help let out a wheeze as she gets closer to tying it off.

“Sorry, as much as I love this dress, I also hate it. I’m so glad I’m pregnant so I don’t have to feel it stabbing me at every given chance.” She said, breaking the silence.

“How many months are you?” You asked.

“I’m six months along now, almost seven.” She finishes tying up the corset before stepping aside. “What do you think?”

“Well, it certainly is fit for an event like this and I do think it’s beautiful. But it’s crushing me with every breath I take. I feel like if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”

“Right, well I can fix that.” This time she takes her time picking out the next dress. She lets her fingers brush across the different fabrics, stopping at one that caught her eye. “Here, try this one!” She suggests. By the look on her face, you can already tell that this is the one. The dress is flowy and soft looking. You step into the dress, pleased to find yourself correct. It feels like you have nothing on. Padme helps you zip the dress up, along with clasping together the leather pieces. The light blue tulle layered over the dark blue, almost purple material complimented your skin tone. The dress had a deep v-neck, showing off your cleavage. Right below your collarbone laid a strap of leather, connecting to either side of your thick shoulder straps. From those straps, a thin piece of tulle was stitched on, giving you two separate mini capes for your arms. Aside from a strap of leather covering your spine, the dress is completely backless. It feels like you could go frolicking in this dress. Who am I kidding, Padme probably went frolicking in this dress with Anakin.

“So, what do you think?” Her tone is hushed, as if she was trying to figure out whether you hated or loved the dress.

“It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” You respond. “Kaytee, what do you reckon?” The droid let’s out a series of delights beeps, showing her contentment towards the dress.

“Great!” Padmé says before ushering you into a chair. “Now, we're going to do your hair and makeup. So sit still.” For once in your life, you shut up and sit still, allowing Padme to work her magic.

“Do you know the gender?” You asked, your question breaking the silence, and while the atmosphere wasn’t exactly awkward, it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Oh no, I’d rather not. It’s not like it matters to me anyways. As long as my child is happy and healthy, then so am I. But it’s ironic because I haven’t been to a check up yet.” Padme gently pulls your hair back, leaving two pieces in the front to frame your face. It was simple, not taking any attention away from the dress.

No check up? Maybe that’s why Padme didn’t know she was having twins. “So you haven’t seen a doctor or a medical droid yet?” Your eyes follow her as she pulls makeup out of her bag, her collection vast.

“No, not really. I don’t have very much time to myself due to the fact that I’m a part of the senate. But I do my best to make sure I stay healthy for my baby and me. I also just want it to be a surprise.” Padme finds a foundation shade similar to your skin tone and blends it in.

“What if you have twins? What will you do then?” You probably weren’t supposed to be asking her questions like these, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you should’ve asked why she had so much makeup instead.

“Well..” She sighed while blotting powder all over your face. “..I suppose if it happens, then it happens. It’s the will of the force.” She finishes powdering your face before moving to your eyebrows. Padme takes an angled brow brush and begins to fill them in, giving it a naturally fuller look.

“So, you believe in the force?”

“How could I not? I work so closely with the Jedi, I’ve seen what you guys have done. The father is very close friends with the Jedi.” Padme said, implying that the father was in fact a Jedi. It felt like you were intruding, but then again, you weren’t necessarily forcing her to tell you this. You had only met her moments ago and she already trusted you enough with her secrets.

“Really? I thought the Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments?”

“Oh… we weren’t really together. It was sort of a one night thing. But he’s going to be in the child’s life.” She covered up.

The conversation went on like that for a while before Padme announced that she was finished with you. After finishing your makeup and adding some finishing touches to your hair, she finally stepped aside, letting you see yourself in the mirror.

The second you saw yourself, your mouth fell open in shock. You looked absolutely ethereal. Padme kept your makeup very natural to bring out your features. She also added small, white flowers into your hair. You excitedly thanked her and got up to hug her as a way to show your gratitude.

“Shall we get going now?” She offered

“Oh, if it was alright with you, I was going to stay behind. I have to contact somebody.” You asked

“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” She said before gathering all of her belongings and leaving with Teckla. As Padme arrives, Anakin notices that you weren’t with her.

“Where’s Alyra?” He asked her, eager to see what she would look like out of her Jedi robes.

“She said she had to talk to someone.”

Meanwhile, in your room you were getting ready to call Peter. Honestly, you had no idea if you had connection on Onderon, but you were about to find out. Taking off your necklace, you were pleased to see the green light, indicating that you were indeed connected to the bridge. You scroll through your contacts before finding Peter’s name. You hit the dial button and wait for it to connect.

-

E A R T H

Peter is sleeping when he gets a call, the bracelet on his left hand vibrating. He thinks nothing of it and almost declines the call. That is until he realizes it’s you calling on the bracelet he had designated just for you. He jumps up from his sleeping position and quickly answers your call. Peter can’t help but let out a gasp of awe the very second your face pops onto the hologram.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You move closer towards the camera and inspect your face, only to find no flaws.

“Nothing...it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, the confusion clear on your face.

“All… dolled up.” Peter’s response makes your face blush a hot red. You let out a shy laugh as your hand comes to rest at the back of your neck. He was right, it had been so long since you’ve felt this pretty. It felt good, for once you had felt good.

“Thanks, Pete. It feels good to be in something other than Jedi robes.”

“Not that I’m saying you can’t be dressed up like this, but exactly why are you so dressed up?” He pondered, he knew it wasn’t like the Jedi to go about their duties in exquisite gowns.

“I’m actually on Onderon.” You pan the camera towards the view outside of your window. “The Jedi have invited me to a celebration of Onderon’s liberation. But also in memory of Steela I believe. I really wish you were here with me. I still don’t understand why they couldn’t have sent both of us.”

“I miss you too, but you know I have a duty here on Earth.”

“Duty? So did I Peter!”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. With me being Spiderman-”

“It’s not like they don’t have any other superheroes. I mean come on, admit it! You know more about Star Wars than I possibly could. You should be here with me.” You huff out before changing the subject, “Anyways, how are you? Did you end up fixing things with MJ?”

“I’m fine, but no, we didn’t. We both agreed that we’d be better off as friends. Besides I’ve already moved on.” He confessed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. It’s now or never Peter, you’ve gotta tell her.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your split. But hopefully you and this new person will work out-”

“It’s you.” He says, abruptly cutting you off. Peter watches you tilt your head as your brows scrunch together again.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s you,” He repeats, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “It’s always been you. I didn’t realize it until you had left… I didn’t think I could miss someone so much.”

“Peter…. I don’t know what to say.” You uttered out,

“Please, say something- anything.” He begged, hoping he hadn’t just ruined years of friendship. Peter watches as you open and close your mouth, searching for the right words.

“...I can’t.” You say as you shake your head. “I can’t be with you, Peter.”

“Why? Is it because of my age? Come on, Y/N, I’m only two years younger than you.” He pleads

“It’s not that. You’re just not the right person for me, Peter. I know it in my very soul.”

“Oh yeah? And who is, Anakin?” He taunts, he can feel his eyes water as he watches you look away from him. “No freakin’ way. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter lets out a scoff.

“You’ve got to understand Pete, I love him. I really do.”

“NO! You don’t love him. You’re just obsessed with him. You think you can save him but you can’t! No one can! You can’t change his destiny.”

“What do you even know about love? You can’t tell me who I can and can’t love. It doesn’t work like that. You know nothing about it-”

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams, breaking the silence in his Queen’s apartment, surely waking up May. “Why isn’t that enough?” Peter watches as tears slowly stream down your face as he lets out a few of his own.

“I’ve got to see this out until the end, you know that Peter...I could only wish that it was enough, but it’s not. You’re like a brother to me, don’t do this to me. To our friendship...I’ve got to go now.”

“No, you don’t get to leave again-”

“I’m sorry, goodbye, Peter.” You end the call and Peter is left staring at the wall, mouth hung open in shock. He couldn’t believe this just happened to him. He faintly makes out the sound of Aunt May knocking on his door.

Without waiting for a response, she cracks open his door. She takes notice of the tears falling off of his face and closes her mouth. Aunt May is silent as she makes her way across his room, holding her arms out for him. Peter gratuitously accepts her embrace, his sobs muffled by her clothes.

No words are spoken as Peter cries his heart out, never in a million years did he think you’d be the one to break him.

--

collide tags: @deepcollectionmagazine​ @amesstm​ @haileyybird​

[unmaskedagain]

No, Bruce! You can’t Adopt her.

This isn’t salt, Cupcake. But I’m going to do a quick drabble of this anyway because it’s an awesome idea.

The suit was a deep dark red. Darker than it used to be from what they had seen saw from the previous news reports reviewed. Her mask was black. Her eyes a startling blue and her hair a shade just touch short of being as dark as night. The girl looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen.

Somehow she had shown up on the scene just before any of the batfamily could and immediately solve the riddles, freed the innocent civilization, dismantle the bomb with rubber duck and a hair pin, dodged the trap, and was now fighting off the Riddler and his men.

And as they watched her kick the Riddler in the face and then yo-yo away, only to spin around and do it a second time, all the batkids knew they’d have to step in.

“You can’t adopt her, B-Man,” The Redhood pinched his nose.

           Robin opened to his mouth his defend his father but quickly shut it. His four adopted brothers, an adopted sister, one sort of adopted “cousin”, and the hardcore way his father had been pushing Luke spend more and more time at the manner to the point where Lucius Fox had taken to glaring at the Dark Knight.

“…She needs a mentor,” Came Batman’s gruff response.

“You need a therapist.”

           They winced when Ladybug broke the arm of a 300 pound bodybuilder and slam him on the ground.

           Nightwing gave his dad a grin, “I’d love a new sister, OUCH!” His hand went his thigh and saw blood. He glared at Robin. “Did you stab me?”

           Robin slowly sheathed his sword. “…No.”

“Let go!” Riddler screamed as he clawed at the floor as the red menace dragged across the floor by his legs.

“Stop squirming!” Marinette barked. “You’re going to jail!”

           Somehow the Riddler managed to free himself. Then it was Ladybug chasing the Riddler around the tower.

“Come back here, you fashion disaster.”

           The caused the Riddler to pause and give the hero the most hurt look anyone of the batfamily had ever seen on him.

“Black Bat would love a sister.”

“Leave me out of this,” Cassandra’s voice rang in their ears. She was patrolling with Batwoman across the city.

           The fight ending with The Riddler hogtied, and dangling from the ceiling, while Ladybug chastised him on the rudeness of strapping people to bombs.

           Batman smirked.

“No!” Red Robin decided to step in, “She probably has parents. You can keep doing this B.”

“And another thing,” Ladybug hissed. “I’ve seen Disney villains with more style than you; you walking neon glowstick.”

           That was when Batman decided to step in. The Riddler visibly brightened at seeing him, “Bats, I don’t like this Robin. She’s mean. Bring back the boy Robin”

“That one lit you on fire.”

“…She made me cry.”

           Ladybug glared at the bad guy.

           Oh yes that was it, Batman was going to adopt Ladybug.

           Bruce Wayne was going to adopt Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl and the rest of her class had taken the Wayne internship program that lasted a little more than a month a half during summer.

           Marinette was the star. Unlike the other interns, Marinette was never late. She never complained. If someone needed research done, she was the first to volunteer and was exceptional at it. Tamara, Tim’s assistant, swore by her. The girl took to assisting the assistant to the CEO like fish to water. When they need a big name to perform at the Waynes’ annual charity Gala, after theirs backed out on short notice, Marinette had saved the day.

           She didn’t interrupt. She had merely leaned down and whispered in Tamara’s here, who then addressed the rest of the room.

“My assistant Marinette,” Tamara nodded with a relieved smile at the young girl. “Would like us to direct our attention to the front screen.”

           They all did. A few months later, the screen split and Clara Nightingale was on the screen, looking as glamourous as ever.

“Marinette,” She beamed. “Love, you are as gorgeous as ever. Now what’s this about a party in Gotham?”

           Before she could answered, there was a beep on the screen as another call came in. Marinette scrambled to disconnect it, “One moment. Sorry.” Tamara got up to help, only for the call to connect anyway.

           That was when Jagged Stone appeared on the screen, “Marinette, how’s it rocking? And Clara, I didn’t know you were on the line too. Penny!” He yelled. “I’ve facetiming Marinette and Clara. How you doing, loves?”

“Jagged,” Clara beamed. “I’m great. Xy’s been bugging me to lay vocals on his new tracks. I’ve heard better from my nephew’s garage band; and his nine.”

           Jagged winced. “That’ll tank a career. Dude’s a sound biter.” He turned his attention back to his favorite bluenette. “Marinette, what’s up? What’s with the stiff in suits?”

           Marinette blushed, “I’m Gotham working as intern for Wayne Industries.” Marinette said. “We’re in a meeting.” The young girl smiled prettily. “This is my amazing boss, Tamara!” She introduced the older black woman, standing between her and Tim. “And we could use some help with a Wayne charity event, on the 19th of this month.”

“I’m there!” Jagged grinned. “Hey! Penny, we’re going to Gotham. Marinette invited us to a party. We’re rocking out!”

“I’d love to come,” The brown-haired superstar clapped her hands. “I have been to Gotham yet. It will be an experience. I can write a song about Batman!”

“Well, we only need one of-” Marinette started but stopped herself as someone, Tim, jabbed her in the side. The only give away that something had happened was the slight widening of her eyes and then cough from Tim, when Marinette stomped on his foot. “Maybe, you guys can perform together.”

“YES!” Clara screamed excitedly. “A duet. A clash of natures.”

“Rock and Pop,” Jagged grinned his approval.

“The fans will love it,” The singer looked at Marinette. “Send us the deets. Jagged, I’ll call you in five to start composing our song.”

“Rock it out, talk later Marinette!”

           Then the calls disconnected.

“Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone,” Bruce leaned back in his seat. “Well done, Marinette.”

           The Asian girl nodded, “Thank you, sir.” After the meeting let out, Tim, Bruce, Tamara, and Marinette remained behind as they finalized the information to send to the singers.

Bruce noticed Marinette give Tim a dark look, and then were was a huff and Tim winced in pain.

“Stopping fight with your brother,” Slipped from the billionaire’s mouth before he could stop it.

           The room froze. Tim’s face morphed from shock to understanding to an incredulous expression, “No. I’m telling, Alfred.”

           Bruce crossed his arms and pouted. Pouted. Marinette make an excellent additional the family.

           Her and Ladybug.

           He wondered how well the two would get along. If only he could get the two in a room together.

           Meanwhile…

           Lila had been feeding the class lies about her time in Gotham and living with the Wayne family. Alya believed every word, and had requested an interview with Lila’s Dami-bear.

Somehow she’d gotten stuck working in the mail room with Alya and Kim; neither were happy. She didn’t even know where Marinette ended up so she could spin a tail about the other girl threatening her to switch assignments.

           The only bright spot was the Damian Wayne frequently visited Wayne tower to learn about how the business works. However, whenever she tried to get close to him, he’d give her a look of disdain.

           That didn’t bother Lila though. As soon as he got to know her, or rather the her she’d tell him she was, Damian would fall head over heels.

           However, as the weeks went on in Gotham, she found all her plans to get close to the Wayne heir failed. She even tried visiting his home, feigning being lost, only for the Butler to send her packing. Lila didn’t even get a chance to look inside.

           When she learned about the gala, she upped her game. She found herself just “happening by” whenever Damian just happened to be walking by. One time, Lila even pretended to trip and hurt herself; only for Kim to “rescue” her and Damian to walk on by like she didn’t even exist.

           On the night of the gala, she sat in her hotel room with her adoring classmates, watching it on TV, “I’d have gone of course but Dami-bear didn’t want me to get attention from any Gotham villains.”

           Alya nodded sympathetically.

           Lila opened her mouth to regale another tale about her and Damian love affairs when Sabrina cut her off, “Hey, that’s Marinette!”

           And sure enough, the girl they had all froze out and declared their ex-friend was on screen walking with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, a beautiful black woman, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake. Marinette wore a stunning sliver dress that made eyes stand out even more.

“Who are you wearing, Clara!” A paparazzi called.

“MDC,” The superstar answered and placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “This designer here. Marinette Dupain-Cheng; she designed all of our looks tonight; including her own. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

           More questions were thrown out.

“Jagged, why a crocodile? Why not a dog or a cat.”

“Damian, who are you dating?”

“Why is MDC with you, Tim?”

           Jagged answered first, “Well I wanted a dog. But I’m deathly allergic to fur. Found out when I was a kid. Can’t get near it. Dogs are cool but cats aren’t rock and roll enough for me.”

“I am dating no one,” Damian answered. “Any rumors that say otherwise are lies. Anyone that says otherwise is lying, and should keep in mind I will sue for defamation of character.”  

           Tim grinned at the crowd, “Marinette is Tamara’s intern. She helped organize this wonderful event. She did such an amazing job as an intern that I’ve had to stop my dad from trying to adopt her.” There were laughs from the crowed.

           Damian snorted as they walked inside, “He is not joking.” He was the one who found the adoption papers.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Weekly Reviews: New Wartwood and Friend or Frobo?

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to another week’s worth of Amphibia reviews! And we got two standout episodes today as Marcy tries to home improvement her way into people’s hearts, and Polly makes friends with a destructive but endearing robot. Find out what I thought about in full under the cut!

New Wartwood: Marcy episode! Wu-hoo! And true to the show’s current status quo, and I do love how it evolves, it’s her first day in Wartwood and she’s pumped. And true to the awkward, probably autistic like yours truly, nerd we’re dealing with.. she does not make a great impression or intergrate herself to the naturally suspcious of outsiders tow. So when questioned by Anne how her day went she gets into how the town’s carefully built on a swamp.. and how the townsfolk hate her, complete with Angry Mob. Anne disperses it but it’s still the funniest moment of the episode to me, both in how a small one sprouted up so quick.. and how polly’s there despite LIKING Marcy (”I go where the mob goes anne!”). ALso i’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Anne just.. casually blushing while talking to Marcy. There’s no catalyist or any reason she would for any other reason than being sweet on her. 

So Marcy, after fixing a statue she knocked over, decides she can earn their love faster as she dosen’t want to wait.  This does get to one of Marcy’s core issues.. while she has many, like any of us, it ties back to the fact she has trouble getting this isn’t a video game. I mean she does get the diffrence between real life and a game on an objective level, but she can’t get real life dosen’t WORK like fiction, something i’ve also struggled with and can massively relate to. So she assumes helping them, via fixing up the town a bit, will make them like her. It makes them warm up a little but they still don’t. 

So naturally, who should come in by blimp to give her a tempting offer that will end badly but Mayor Toadstool! He also has a blimp now but it keeps escaping... I think I know where it went. 

So THAT’S how he can afford those things. Naturally seeing how nice Marcy made things he has a plan to exploit the hell out of her gifts with masonry to pretty up the town as a tourist attraction to make him more money. Anne talks her out of it.. but she ends up caving in the middle of the night. I also love the touch of her staying in the Fwagon, not forgetting the plantars bought it and finding a practical use for it in and out of story now i’ts no longer needed. I also love the little signs she has on it. 

The next morning the town awakes to marble pillars in front of all of the shops to make them look fancy and Marcy and the Mayor promoting the town’s new effort,s including a golden founderss tatue and a horrifying golden clock of toadstool, with Anne warry of her girlfriend’s antics. Mostly becaue you can’t force people to like you or bribe them to. Otherwise you cause the entire town to sink into the water bellow... like now. But while Marcy is now convinced the town will never accept her she still dosen’t want them all to die, and summons Joe Sparrow.. who continues to be the best thing ever added to this cast I swear to god as he helps her save the day, removing the various new things to reduce weight, saving some villiagers from a pillar (as Croaker points out their frogs ending up in the water isn’t that deadly), and getting rid of the gold monstrosities. 

So the end result is that the town is rightfully liviid, though she does genuinely appologize.. and suprisingly.. TOADSTOOL actually tries to take all the blame. The town rightfully dosen’t let him, but it’s clear he’s somehow growing as a person. Even if anne’s assement of him as “What would happen if the Monopoly Man had a Baby with a PIece of Fried Chicken” is still 100% accurate. They do agree they’ll like her with time, just like Anne, and if supscious, will gladly give her another shot. So Marcy’s learned her lesson.. always listen to your girlfriend. And while she literally fixes her damage.. the mascot toadstool hired explodes as it’s full of bugs. 

Final Thoughts on New Wartwood: This was a fun episode. A fairly simple and predictable one, but sometimes that works perfectly and this one was just damn funny, charming and full of good character stuff. Top notch. 

Friend or Frobo?:

I have a confession to make: I fricking love robots. It’s something that really HASN’T come up before, but I love a good robot. There’s just tons of good stories to be had with artifical beings, their struggles to be recongized for who they are, their cool powers, their awkward but endearing attempts to fit in with us less than deserving humans. And ficton’s had TONS and TONS of awesome ones: The Vision (in both 616 and MCU flavors), who is one of my faviorite heroes period, Red Tornado, Jenny Wakeman, Shard the Metal Sonic, BOYD, Aya, Data, Crow, Tom Servo, Gypsy, Growler, Robo, Grimlock. the list really DOES go on into infinity for me. 

WEirdly though I didn’t pay much mind to Frobo before this episode.. but with no real personality other than endearlingly running into the same obstacle for hours, and no real background yet, I didn’t really have anything to attach to other than “Cool anne’s either going to nearly get killed by a robot or get one”. But this episode changed that using the oldest trick in the book: having a child befriend it. We’ve seen it before with Sentinels, Badniks, Autobots and Iron Giants. Now we get it again with largeish frog robot. And it is pretty damn good. 

This is a Polly episode. It’s Hop Pop’s faviorite day: Seed Store Day! Naturally Marcy has come along and naturlaly she’s just as geeked out about seeds as he is because she’s precious and I must protect her from the horrible trauma her trusted father figure is about to inflict on her. Polly naturally wants to get into some shenanigans but suprisingly.. Anne and Sprig don’t wanna anymore. THey’ve learned their lesson and decide to just play video games. So polly does the resonable thing.. and blames them for some shenanigans on her part and goes out to get into more shneanigans only to find it’s lonely without a friend. 

Enter Frobo, named that because he looks like a frog and she heard the term robo from anne’s game. And despite very limited programming... Frobo is VERY loveable. As Polly notes he’s essentially a baby: he starts by mimicing her, including his horrifying but endearing laugh, and even doing her spin dash she gained a few episodes back I didn’t mention because I forgot. That one’s on me. Sprig also did the Yooka Laylee thing on top of her spin dash then so there’s that. 

Point is it’s all fun, games and heartwarming bonding till Frobo accidently floods the city and gets mobbed and one of the mobbs makes the terrible mistake of accidently kicking polly. 

He goes into Red Eye Iron Giant HOmage mode and starts fighting everybody.. including Anne and Sprig who show up to contain things, but eventually Polly wins everyone over with a heartwarming speech as she stops him, pointing out it was her fault and while he is weird, he’s just an innocent> The town.. decides why not. As the mayor points out “We already have two freaks what’s a third”. And given Marcy nearly killed them all yesterday and they begrudginly acepted her and anne did it WAY more than once and they see her as one of them, yeah they give up. 

Naturally once they get back Marcy is an easy sell. Now she can do chrono trigger cosplay! Hop Pop is a bit till it’s shown that frobo can farm super fast, and he’s part of the family now. Sprig and Anne shrug off him having come from the factory, and this surely won’t backfire on them surely. 

Final Thoughts on Friend or Frobo:

This one was excellent. The idea of Polly having to learn repsonsiblity was a nice idea, and Frobo is as I said endearing: he’s simply an innocent being who knows nothing and is slowly learning and his friendship with polly is really fucking cute. And giving him an emotional attachment to the plantars means whatevers going on with him gets higher stakes.. and given how robots are treated in fiction i’m just counting the minutes till he tragically gets blowed up real good. But until then this episode was a standout for the season. While as I made clear the “Kid befriends death machine” trope is not NEW, the baby concept made it feel fresh. It also as usual had some good jokes. 

So all in all a top notch week, really great stuff and i’ts only going to get better next time!

Nexttime: Mayor Toadstool is tempted to leave. Kay. But more importantly MADDIE EPISODE AGAIN BITCHES. AND IT HAS MARCY IT. I’M READY. 

Next On This Blog: Final Space Yo! Quinn and Gary visit earth and Tribore leaves.. again. Be here or be... elsewhere I guess

If you liked this review, follow for more, join my patreon, and comission your own review if you want via my askbox, discord and dms. See you at the next rainbow. 

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 10)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hi everybody! I am so excited to FINALLY be back with a new chapter of a fic that so many of you have fallen in love with. This response has been truly unprecedented in my writing experience. I have had lots of fics that many of you rooted for and supported me in, and I am always so grateful for that, but having a hiatus from writing this story showed me just how invested so many of you are. This is a great feeling as a writer, and that excitement you all have is the only reason I have been able to write more of this fic. My ability to write at my usual pace has been tested this fall, and there’s been some ups and downs in my attempts to reengage, but I love this story and I am so excited to share the rest of it with you all. I hope you will all like this new installment, I thank you again for continuing this with me, and I cannot wait to hear what you think!

“Mmmm, this smells delicious,” Henry said, hovering over the skillet not for the first time this evening, and breathing in the pasta sauce Killian had been working on the past half hour. To the boy’s credit, it did smell absolutely wonderful, a comforting classic anyone would love, and which the three of them had earned, after a day of unexpected meetings and introductions. This pasta was a traditional Montennaran recipe, not far off from a classic Sicilian pomodoro, but with the benefit of a few of this country’s specialties. It was a favorite of his personally, and one of the few meals he’d learned to cook well during his time in the service.

“Seriously. Who knew you could cook like this?” Emma said, still stunned at the display before them. She must have assumed from pizza night and the slow cooking speed of their first date  that he was fully a novice, and he was in many ways. But he did have a few small tricks up his sleeves, and one was this sauce, which was easy to make as long as he had the right ingredients. It was quick, but precise, and it gave off the perception that he had mastered something difficult, even though that wasn’t true.

“This dish is a special one for me and for my unit. This is the spread each of us waited for during deployments. You crave so many things when you’re without them for so long, but this meal symbolized something else. The moment we’d touch down on Montennaran soil, this is the first thing we would eat. It represents safety just as much as it does a good meal.”

“You always had this?” Henry asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “No matter what time?”

“Breakfast, lunch, or dinner. This was it,” Killian said, smiling at the memory of early morning pasta meals that he’d enjoyed more than most other moments in his time at sea. Those were the times when they all felt at peace again, and where they allowed themselves to breathe and heal no matter what dark moments had been withstood. “We took turns preparing it, tired as we’d all be from the tour and the travel, but the pressure was on. The last thing you want to do is disappoint newly anchored sailors. It’s a mistake that may just be your last.”

“No kidding,” Henry said, surprised but taking the words at face value. “It sounds so cool though. Being in the Navy, I mean. You meet all those people, people who are your family too even if you’re not related.”

“Aye, lad, they are my family. Always will be.”

“I can’t wait to meet them someday,” Henry said eagerly. Killian noticed Emma tense a bit but she didn’t need to worry. It was always his intention to introduce them all, because it was his plan to keep Emma and Henry with him forever. “Will it be like today do you think?”

“That depends on how you think today went.”

Killian’s quip earned a laugh from Henry and a soft smile from Emma. He was teasing as if the afternoon had been anything but excellent, when of course that was not the case. Despite the unexpected nature of it all, his family had been on their best behavior and they’d all immediately loved Emma and her boy. He knew in his heart they would, but it took a lot of pressure off and hopefully would help ease some of Emma’s worries about where this was going and if his family would approve.

“Today was totally awesome!” Henry said. “Everyone was so nice and cool. But Gran was definitely my favorite.”

“For now maybe,” Killian said, knowing full well what the draw of his Gran was and how her energy and feistiness made her infinitely lovable. “But give it time. My Mum and Liam both have a few more tricks up their sleeves.”

“What did you think of today, Mom?” Henry asked, and Killian was intrigued to know her thoughts. He doubted that Emma would go very deep with her assessment, but she was always honest with her son, of that Killian was totally assured.

“It was… easy,” Emma confessed, smiling at the memories of the day. “I never expected to feel so welcomed right away, but everyone was so normal, it was nice.”

“Normal is pushing it a bit, love. My grandmother’s revelations alone somewhat undermine my family’s classification as something so benign.”

“Maybe,” Emma said with a shrug. “But the families I’ve seen all have some kind of well-meaning meddling, don’t they? Hers just has a bit more royal flare.”

“Oh, Gran’s got flare all right. No doubt about that,” Henry said cheekily as he took the dishes and silverware from Emma and headed to the dining room to set the table.

It wasn’t a statement the boy had meant to be impactful, but it hit Killian right in the heart. That was another special moment from today. There was no formality with his family and Henry and Emma, and he had witnessed the moment his grandmother insisted that Henry call her Gran as well. To have Henry accept that so quickly was a blessing, and another bright spot in what had been a beautiful day.

“And what about you?” Emma asked him when they were alone. “How did you think today went?”

Instinctively Killian turned off the burner, knowing the food was ready to serve but not wanting it to be ruined. He wiped his hands clean of any rogue tomato and then he pulled Emma straight into his arms in one fluid motion. Without pause, he pressed a kiss to her lips that was meant to be soft and nonintrusive in case Henry returned, but quickly morphed to something heated when Emma clutched at his shirt and arched in closer. By the time they pulled apart, he almost forgot the question, but Emma’s curious green eyes prompted him to reassure her of the truth.

“Today was one of the best days I’ve ever known, love. The most important people in my world came together, and if my instincts are correct, it’s gone just about as perfectly as it could. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that…”

“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ hanging in that statement,” she said, running her fingers across his cheek as she looked at him, searching for answers. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just that I -,”

“Okay, table’s set!” Henry said, barreling back into the kitchen and prompting Killian to step back from Emma but to keep his hand in hers.

Emma and Killian exchanged a look that silently said they would pick up this conversation again later, but Killian squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a calming and comforting gesture. The hanging words he’d yet to say were hardly bad ones, he just had to admit that as beautiful as today was he wanted so much more. He’d never have enough days like this one for his liking. He would always want more, no matter what came, and that was what he’d have to ask her for if not today then someday very soon.

Dinner proceeded without a hitch, and not only was his cooking a success, but the meal was fun and lively. Henry made for so much conversation, and his thoughts on the day were long and varied. He was so full of excitement and energy that it was contagious, and Killian learned more from both the boy and his mother about what they’d taken from meeting his family. They all talked about the center too, about Marco and Marie and Cecelia, and then at length about Anna and especially Elsa.

“Do you think anything will come from it?” Emma asked Killian at one point, after they’d already dissected how undeniable the moment was between Emma’s friend and Killian’s brother.

“Oh for sure,” Henry said before Killian could respond. Both Emma and Killian laughed at his confidence.

“You seem rather certain, lad.”

“Well it’s pretty obvious. I mean he looks at Elsa the way you look at Mom. They’re totally gonna get together. It was love at first sight. Just like with you two.”

“Henry,” Emma said, chastising him somewhat but in a measured way.

“What?”

“Well not for nothing, but you didn’t even see Killian and I meet how could you know it was…”

“Love at first sight?” Killian offered, grinning at her, knowing in his heart that was exactly what they’d felt the moment they laid eyes on each other.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, come on, Mom,” Henry said, rolling his eyes in a move Killian rarely ever saw, but which looked exactly like his mother when she was exasperated. He nearly choked on his water, but he powered through, biting back a laugh at Emma’s shocked face. “It was totally love. You came home extra happy and you had a dreamy look on your face all the time when Killian started volunteering. And since then you’ve been kinda… what does Mrs. H call it again? Oh right, scatterbrained. Love can do that, you know. I asked Gran about it today and she said it’s a telltale sign.”

“You asked her that?” Emma asked, shocked and maybe just a little bit mortified as Henry nodded like it was no big deal.

“Yup. She knows everything. She said that’s what happens when you’re old, and since Mrs. H says that too I think it’s probably true. Come to think of it, they’d be great friends don’t you think?”

“Mrs. H and Queen Eleanor?” Emma asked, as if the thought of their neighbor and Killian’s grandmother being ‘friends’ was too much to handle. “Well I mean, now that you mention it, there are a few similarities there.”

“Totally. And if Mrs. H was here she’d agree with me about Liam and Elsa. It’s totally love, and that’s awesome. Queen Elsa. It has a nice ring to it. Like she was meant to be a royal.”

Killian didn’t think Elsa was the only one with a name suited for royalty. In his estimation Princess Emma and even Prince Henry were rather fitting as well, but he bit that statement back, not wanting to overwhelm Emma or bring something up in front of Henry that she wasn’t ready for. Instead he steered the conversation in other directions, enjoying himself thoroughly as they all enjoyed dessert together that Emma had put together before watching a movie the three of them. It was a totally natural thing, and at more than one point Killian thought that they really looked like a family. It filled his heart with hope, and he wished one day he could officially claim both of them as his. But tonight, he’d just enjoy how good it felt to be with two such special people who seemed to see something in him too.

“Okay, kid, it’s about that time. It’s late already, so PJs and then you can read two chapters and then that’s all she wrote. You got me?”

“Sure, Mom. But can I read to Killian tonight? I’m at a great part in the story. The pirates are about to board the ship.”

“Um, I’m not – I mean, if you want?” Emma asked deferring to him though she was obviously flustered.

“Sounds good to me,” Killian said prompting relief in Emma and a sound of excitement from Henry.

Henry hurried to get himself ready for bed, and just as he’d promised, he proceeded to read Killian two chapters of his current book. The title was one Killian recognized from his youth, but he was impressed that a ten year old had such command of the story. Henry was a good reader but also theatrical, keeping Killian’s attention all the while. Only when he closed the book did Killian leave the swashbuckling alternative universe the story took place in.

“Quite the tale there, lad. You’ll have to keep me apprised of what happens next.”

“No need, I’ll save it until you come back again,” Henry said easily, gesturing to his bookcase which was full of books in so many shades and shapes. “I’ve got tons of them to read.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Killian said truthfully standing back up and heading towards the door. “Well thanks again for the story, Henry. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Killian,” Henry said, letting out a yawn and settling into bed. “Love you.”

The words placed a direct hit on Killian’s heart, and he was unsure if Henry had meant to say it or if sleep was getting the better of him, but Killian could only go on instinct. He answered honestly, telling the boy he loved him too and seeing him smile and settle to sleep before slipping into the hall and walking right into Emma who had tears in her eyes.

“Emma?” he asked, mindful to keep his voice more a whisper than something that could wake up Henry. “Is everything all right?”

“He said he loves you,” Emma whispered, and Killian nodded, brushing her tears away as he held her close.

“He did, love, and it made me feel ten feet tall.”

“Because you love him too,” she whispered, awed at that as if were some kind of stunning revelation and not a given fact of life.

“Of course I do. He’s an amazing boy, and his mother… well she’s the beating of my heart. How could I do anything but love him when he’s a piece of you, Emma?”

“What were you going to say earlier?” Emma asked, abruptly pulling them back to that moment in the kitchen. He debated holding back, but he decided ultimately it was better to put all of his cards on the table. Transparency was key if they had any shot of making this work.

“I was going to say that you, Emma Swan, are the reason. You’re my reason for everything, this impossible gift I never saw coming, and I’m lost in you. I see this perfect moment and forever when I look in your eyes, I see a life I’m desperate to pursue and real hope for the future. I still can’t believe that you’ve chosen me and that I’m standing here with you at all, and a day as good as this one only reminds me that I’ll always have this want - this need - for you. I love you, Emma, irrefutably, incandescently. In a forever and so much longer kind of way.”

“I love you too. Just as much,” Emma said, her voice stronger this time though her tears still came. They appeared to be the product of joy instead of sadness, but they still clutched at his chest like a vice. The only antidote was pulling Emma somewhere private, in this case her bedroom, and confirming he was right.

Once the door was closed behind them, locking them into a sound tight suite on the other end of Emma’s temporary home, their actions blended together. He didn’t lead the way, but moved with Emma, a dance that felt so much more practiced than it was. Emma pulled him for steamy kisses, and he savored her taste on his tongue as he held her close and moved her back towards the bed in her room. The lights were dimmed, but washed the room in a warmth he felt upon his skin. He was burning up from the closeness and the promise of what was to come, but the only thing he could think was that he needed more.

In the back of his mind, Killian also realized that this moment needed quiet. With Henry in the house, they didn’t have the freedom he might yearn for, but no matter. He had the love of the most incredible woman and she’d accepted his love in return. That needed celebration and merited some long-desired reveling. He wanted to show her how he felt, and though he’d finally said the words and attempted to make her understand, the feelings he had went so much deeper. Looking in her eyes right now, he could tell she felt just as much, but the time for waiting and wondering was over. They had put the truth between them and now it was time to truly immerse themselves in it.

Instinct and hunger soon took over for Killian, melding with the love he felt and the softer feelings in his heart in a wickedly wonderful way. He wanted Emma bared to him as soon as could be, spread out on the sheets of this bed and ready for his taking. They’d been flirting with the pleasures they could have for a while now, and they’d been intimate before, but this was different. This was a first in many ways, and Killian was intent on having this moment be one they wouldn’t rush, and that they’d remember for the rest of their lives.

A primal voice in his brain urged him to take her fast and hard, to make a claim they’d both feel branded by, but Killian anchored himself to an idea of something slower and more sensual. He knew taking his time would prove so much more gratifying, and he wanted to make this as good for his Swan as it could possibly be. He helped Emma out of clothes, noticing the tremble of her hands as he did. She was buzzing with excitement and electricity, but she matched his pace, understanding that if they drove each other crazy for just a little longer it would be sublime.

He was entranced by her entirely, and as her clothes from the day fell away, revealing two extremely unexpected scraps of red lace underneath, he couldn’t help but groan. No woman had a right to be so lovely, to claw at him so surely, and to set him alight in this way, but God did he love it. Emma was impossible, but somehow she was real. He felt her responsiveness to him and tracked the way that she noticed how his appreciative gaze moved up her body. A flush spread across her creamy skin, but she stood there, proud and sure as her hands moved across his body, removing his clothes as he’d done hers.

“I didn’t know that I could want this much,” she whispered, the honey-laced tone of her voice a sweet melody to his ears. “I need you, Killian. I love you.”

“Fuck me,” he grumbled, surprising her by taking her in his arms and lowering her to the bed. She let out a gasp before giving into laughter, her eyes bright and sparkling in the lamp light.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” she quipped, but her feistiness faded somewhat as he shed the rest of his clothes. Now her attention had switched, she was watching him steadily, and unconsciously licked her lips. That was it. His patience broke and he was on her, hands roaming, mouth teasing, and hellbent on more.

“Much as I might love that idea, Swan, tonight isn’t about fucking. Tonight I make love to the woman of my dreams. Tonight I show you my heart in full. It’s so much more than sex.”

“I know,” Emma whispered, running her hands along his cheek. “So show me.”

Bound by her request, Killian set out to do just that. It began with roaming hands and removing the last two scraps of red that shielded her from him. Once she was bare, he let himself explore and learn every spot and lick and nip that made her breathless. He traced the sensitive places on her body that made her hum in pleasure, and cherished each freckle on her skin that had come from the summer sun. He riled her up with his hands and his mouth until she was pleading for release, and then he gave it to her, touching her tender flesh and prompting a thready moan from her lips.

“Killian.” Emma’s croon was ragged and gorgeous, making him harder than he ever thought possible.  The sound of her desire reached within his soul and engulfed him completely. Unable to resist, he felt himself growing addicted, unsure if he could ever stop. He needed her sighs like he needed to breath, and he purposefully pulled as many sounds of pleasure from her as he could.

There was nothing like Emma lost in lust. She’d never been more beautiful and he didn’t know how that was possible. As his thumb swirled against her clit and his fingers filled her, she gave more away, revealing herself and her needs in ways that made him dizzy. Every response set Killian aflame, and every breathy sigh and plea for more was a sign he intended to follow until he’d led her right over the edge and she shattered beneath him.

“You destroy me, love,” he found himself saying as he looked down at her and brushed some strands of her curled blonde hair out of her eyes. “Destroy me and make me into so much more. I’m in awe of you.”

In the face of her release, and the sincere words that he meant completely, Emma blushed again but smiled. Her expression was one he’d only ever seen her share with him, and it made him feel indestructible. He’d never met a person with more impact on his soul, and he’d never met a woman who so effortlessly created hope and good in his heart. Emma Swan was everything a man could ever want made real, and Killian still couldn’t comprehend how he was lucky enough to be here.

“I can’t imagine this is real,” Emma said, her words still dazed, but happy and content. “But I know it is. I know you are. I’m in this, Killian. I’ve never been more in.”

“Thank God for that, love,” Killian said with a grin and one more kiss before he trailed lower.

With careful attentions designed for maximum pleasure, Killian hit each peak point on her body, bestowing licks and nips that made her jump and mewl. By the time he’d reached her inner thighs, she was breathing heavy, anticipation clear as day. Killian looked up to her now emerald colored eyes as his hands held her steady, needing to know that this was what she wanted and what he saw was irrefutable. Emma was just as desirous for this as he was, and Killian was never so glad for anything in his life.

When his tongue met her sex, he tasted her need for him. Her body writhed beneath him, but he held her still, knowing she needed this from him now. She was wound up tight, the desire twisting around inside her and making her try to break away, but he built it up wanting to give her something she’d never get enough of. With slow, languid licks, he built the moment for him and her. The higher she climbed, the more crazed he himself became, but he waited until she shattered again to take his own pleasure. Once she had, though, all bets were off.

Their coming together was sensational serenity, walking the line between hard and gentle, tender and heated. Further and further they moved towards bliss, but time was off its normal tracks and their minds were filled with only this glorious moment. Soon enough, and yet not soon enough at all, they met that magic, crashing into climax. Minutes later they remained, both spent and breathing heavy, glowing from the aftermath and intertwined together, two bodies hell bent on never being parted. Killian found himself speechless in the aftermath, though his hands drew unknown figures on her skin. He had to touch her, had to hold her, even though he had just felt heaven itself. Truth be told, Killian was totally complete, and more invigorated than ever. Life had never felt more perfect and nothing had ever made more sense.

These revelations were all thanks to Emma. She was the one who made him believe love could be honest and true. She showed him depths he’d never dreamed of, and right now, as the swift and gentle tug of sleep came beckoning, she was a vision. Smiling at him, holding him close and whispering a promise he almost couldn’t bear.

“Forever, Killian,” she breathed, cuddling towards his chest after pressing one last kiss upon his skin. “That’s how long I know I’ll love you.”

“Forever, Emma,” he replied, though he knew even now she may already have succumbed to slumber. “Forever and whatever exists beyond.”

……………

Sneaking back into the castle now was a stark contrast to the many mornings he’d snuck out for a bit of space. Killian couldn’t resist smiling at how much things had changed since that time, and on those days when he walked out in the hills to watch the sunrise. However, unlike those other mornings, Killian knew the moment he walked through the great oak doors that he was not the only one up at this God forsaken hour. Call it instinct or intuition, but Killian could sense uneasiness in the palace, and as he moved up the corridor and saw light emanating from one of Liam’s studies, his hunch was proven right.  

With measured steps he approached the open door. It remained ajar, a beacon to anyone who may pass by that his brother was here but still approachable. What Killian saw when he walked to the doorway, however, was the undeniable truth that Liam was not well, and that he likely had no idea the door was open. He’d been up all night, burning the midnight oil, and studying files and photos strewn about his desk.

“For your information, you’re about…” Killian’s words trailed off as he checked the clock on the mantel to clarify the time, “twenty-two and a half minutes from being discovered by Francine or Claudette. Give or take or minute or so.”

The mention of two of the maids on the morning shift in the palace seemed to ground Liam into the reality of this moment and the predawn light outside. He looked up at Killian and then out the antique windows which offered a familiar view of the palace grounds, now bathed in the early morning sunshine. Liam let out a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair that had already been mussed with some frequency. There was no way his brother had slept this evening. He was wild and unkempt, and so far from his state of normal it was fascinating to see.

“Any other day and I’d be focused on your early morning return,” Liam mused, offering something like a smile. It surprised Killian, given how infrequent smiles had become for his brother, but before he could mention it, Liam looked back to the papers and the books strewn about the mahogany desk. Killian wasn’t sure what he expected, but these archives of the family’s public events was not it. His curiosity grew, and he urged his brother to explain himself.

“But it’s not so ordinary, is it?”

“No, she isn’t,” Liam whispered, slipping up and referring to the woman who had turned his head completely, instead of the morning itself. “I didn’t plan for this.”

“No one ever does,” Killian quipped. “Gran will be the first to tell you that to love is to surrender. Planning has no place in affairs of the heart.”

“That old bird is too crafty,” Liam said shaking his head as Killian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “All these years of talk, throwing opinions here there and everywhere. She never met a moment where words failed her and she never lets a day slip past where she doesn’t share her every whim. But I’ve always written it off as her opinion or some grandiose turn of phrase that sounds ripped from a book of clichés rather than something rooted in truth.”

“The worst are the riddles. The woman loves a riddle,” Killian added and Liam groaned, a sound of actual pain that Killian felt, despite its humor.

“I hate the bloody things. The flowery words, the abstract philosophies. It’s all just meaningless. Or so I thought. A whole life spent listening to this woman, and I never took much of it seriously. To be sure there were some times when she offered sage counsel, but I found it unlikely that she was actually providing me with answers to anything really sentimental. Half the time she’s as vague as can be. I wrote off nearly all her musings for the better part of my life.”

“Yet here we are,” Killian said evenly and Liam nodded.

“Aye, here we are.”

Liam stood from his chair and walked towards the windows. Killian watched as his brother’s arms crossed over his chest, his gaze turned out to the world, looking but not really seeing. He was lost in his own thoughts, struggling to give voice to them, and so Killian was patient. There was no use dragging Liam to conversation. His brother was guarded and grappling for control. Only when he was ready, would the truth come out. A few minutes later, after a prolonged bit of silence, they finally did.  

“I’ve long put off the inevitable, brother. Royal expectation demands that I choose a bride, but for years I’ve hesitated, unwilling to commit to any kind of match. The press has questioned my delay for ages, but that talk is mostly harmless. Still, I have always known that would change. A day would come when talk became more, and I needed to settle, to choose duty over heart.”

“You’ve said as much before, brother, but nothing in the law says that you have to forsake your heart for the sake of the country. A love match is allowed. You know this.”

“Aye, I do, but I never entertained the premise, not really. After our parents’ fiasco of a marriage, I ruled it out entirely. My best hope was for what had existed before, something arranged where, if I was lucky, love may bloom. Look at Gran and Grandad. It was love, absolutely, but it was also a merger. There was very little choice involved at all, just logic and good reasoning. At least in those situations you know what you’re getting into. There’s a safety in settling for that which is known. But fuck if I want that anymore. Truth be told the thought makes me sick, and I barely spoke to her.”

“To Elsa, you mean?” Killian prodded and Liam’s eyes brightened as he nodded.

“How can she move me like this already? One day in her presence and I hardly know myself. One day and I know that everything I thought would happen will never come to pass. I’ll never be the man that settles, not when I know she’s out there. I can’t describe it except to say that I have to know her, have to pursue this, have to hope she’ll give me a chance. I’ve never felt this out of my depths. I saw her and the rest of the world just ceased to matter. I wasn’t the King, or a ruler, or a politician. I had no duty and no course. I was just a man, and she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, plain and simple. I know it’s mad, but damn if it’s not true.”

“If it’s mad, you’re in good company. That’s exactly how I felt the first time I saw Emma.”

“That’s reassuring, and yet… it’s the strangest thing, I swear I looked at Elsa and I was halfway in a memory. I was a boy again, but the details were hazy. It just felt familiar, like we’ve met before. My heart had skipped that particular beat. My gut had felt that strongly. Now though I’m lost. I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s more than what it is. Maybe I missed something, but how could anyone ever miss her?”

“Ah that explains these books,” Killian said gesturing to everything here. “But let me guess, no sign of her in these.”

“None. But the feeling still lingers. It’s like I dreamed her up. The recognition is strong, but just barely out of grasp. God, listen to me. I’ve become an absolute melt.”

Killian couldn’t help but laugh at the slang of their youth. Their boarding schools had been filled with Brits and other Europeans, and to be a melt was to be a sop, a sap, someone who had given in to their most romantic feelings.

“Maybe, but if that’s true, God knows I’m happy for it.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am. I’ve always wanted more for you, Liam. You shouldn’t aim for mere contentment, or to just be comforted by honor and duty. The goal is to be genuinely, honestly happy, and this morning, despite the anxiety of newness, I see the start of something in you. Something good.”

“I fear I’ve been too hard on you, Killian,” Liam said, his voice softer and his tone sincere. “Not lately I mean, and hopefully you’ve noticed the shift over the past few weeks, but in the beginning, I didn’t see how you could feel so much. I asked a lot of you, with the parade and royal obligations, and I didn’t realize what the risk was. Slowly I’ve grown to understand that the changes in you I have seen can only be attributed to love. You are happy and it is clear for the world to see. I’ve respected that, but now to know it’s more than hypothetical, I just think it bears repeating. To lose this feeling…” Liam brushed his hand against his heart absentmindedly, as if his chest ached from some physical pain. “Anyway, I hate that I forced that choice upon you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s forgiven, brother. Well, it will be, if you grant me one wish.”

“Anything.”

“I’d like your blessing, and not a royal one, not a King’s well wishes. Just you, as my brother, backing me when I ask Emma to be my wife.”

The look of surprise on Liam’s face quickly morphed into a grin. There was his brother of old, the one who had existed before royal training. He was truly happy and a bit mischievous as well. The two of them had long been told they shared that smile, but coming from Liam, it felt like a most precious gift.

“You plan to ask her already?”

“Already?” Killian laughed. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever. But I suppose you’re right. It is fast.”

“Fast seems to run in this family,” Liam said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have said that before yesterday, but as it stands, I understand. You have my backing, Killian. Emma is right for you, and if she’ll have you, we’d be lucky to have her.”

Liam came around the table, hugging Killian and showing him the depth of his joy. It was genuine, this support from his brother, and it made a world of difference. No matter what, Killian would ask Emma to be his wife, but knowing that his family felt as good about this as he did settled something in him. Now all he had to do was find the perfect moment. It was hard to be patient, especially when they’d admitted how they felt, and when he knew his feelings for Emma would only ever grow, but he’d find away. More than anything he wanted Emma to have a perfect moment, one they could build their future on forever more.

“And what of you and Elsa? Where do you go from here?”

“The only way I can go,” Liam said, resuming his assured control even though he was at the precipice of something totally foreign to him. “Towards her.”

“Good man. Trust in that feeling. It’s yet to steer me wrong.”

The two of them would have no doubt shared more, but at that moment, the voices of the morning staff could be heard down the hall. Their privacy had expired, the day had dawned, and reality beckoned, yet Killian knew even without proof, that things would work out. For now, there was a tremendous amount of hope for both him and Liam, hope that had been missing for many many years. Things may still be a bit uncertain, hearts needed to be won and vows needed to be made, but in his soul, Killian knew it would all work out. For Gran was usually right in the end, and he and Liam would both certainly surrender to love. Killian, for his part, already had, and honestly, it was the best damn thing he’d ever done. Soon, though, he would need to do more, to take the steps he so badly wanted with Emma, and to build a life with her and Henry worthy of them both. It was a mission he felt down to his bones, and one he simply would not fail. He’d find a way to their happily ever after, whatever it may look like, and the excitement of that would keep him going as long as it took.

Post-Note: So there we have it – a new chapter of this story, and the setup for the next chapter which will have more of the Elsa/Anna backstory for you all. From there we get to move towards my typical happily ever after recipe, a proposal, a wedding, and the joyful thereafter.  I think there’s going to be about 4 more installments left total (though one of those will be an epilogue and it may be quite a while before I am ready to publish that). But I promise to do my best to update more frequently than I have been. I have had so many of you sending love and wishes for faster updates, and those requests have not fallen on deaf ears. In fact, every comment and message makes writing that much easier, and I am so grateful for the overwhelming support. I promise I am doing my best to get you all this story, and just hope it’ll live up to everyone’s excited expectations. Either way, I thank you all so much for reading, and I wish you all well and healthy in this time. Sending you all the best!

[rq-s]

Title: Falling Down 

Pairing: Xu Minghao / NB!Reader

Genre: Light Angst & Platonic OR Romantic

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: None. However, I do interpret the timeline and meaning of his lyrics loosely. I can’t and don’t claim that it’s the “correct” way to do so; he wrote it to be ambiguous for a wide audience to enjoy. Please watch the Falling Down Making Film for clarity.

Credits: ENG Translation of Falling Down 

Summary: You and Minghao have been consistent penpals since 2004, sharing each other’s cultures, languages, passions, and lives as you both grew up. 2014 came around and letter from him only came in 4 times, and only 1 in 2015. The last this you ever heard from him read he was a bird in a cage.

Notes: Italic = letter  ... = omitted letter content 

My Masterlist

Spring 2004

“How about this one, honey?” Mom handed me a postcard from a spot on the rack that I couldn’t reach. The large font caught my attention and told me it was a landscape picture of the closest national park. Though nothing in the picture was recognizable, it reminded me of camping, which made me smile despite having never been before.

“Sure.” Was all I said, and I followed her as she pushed our full shopping cart to the register and began chatting with the cashier.

Like usual, I quickly put the postcard on the conveyor belt along with the groceries. As soon as it was empty, I went to the bagging station and put the scanned and bagged items back into the cart. Making sure to the boxes and cartons together neatly like Tetris, careful not to squish the bread.

“What a diligent little kid you have!” The cashier spoke, her voice worn with age, but with a sense of joy that reminded me of a stereotypical grandmother.

“She always says I do it wrong.” Mom joked, smirking at me. She never did let go of my “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” attitude I had even as a kid.

 Mom finished paying, and we went put into the chilly morning air of the parking lot that was made even colder by the shadow of the supermarket. I once again moved the bags from the cart to the trunk and brought the cart to the nearest drop off spot while Mom started the car.

The ride home was mostly silent, save for the sound of the road beneath the wheels and the hum of the heater.

“Thanks for letting me do the penpal thing, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, but remember the deal; you get more chores to do. You’re 7 years old now, you can handle doing the dishes by yourself, right?” The tone of her voice was completely serious, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve been helping with the dishes for years, and I’ve learned from the best. I’ve got this!”

 When we got home, I scoured the bags for that postcard, and luckily it was only bent on one corner. I wrote down bit of info about that park - whatever Google told me, and set it aside. I grabbed the template application from my school binder and filled in the blanks. 

Hello! My name is _____________, I’m __ years old, and I am from ________! I am learning Mandarin, but I’m still a beginner. I hope to learn more about your culture and language as we exchange letters!

For now, I will tell you a bit about myself. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Along with this letter is a postcard and other information about where I am from!

I hope to hear from you soon!

Signed,

_____________

It was a pretty basic template that we had to copy from, and in retrospect, it was cringy as all heck, but it had to be formatted juuust right and follow the guidelines exactly, or the penpal program admin’s wouldn’t accept it.

From what I was told, someone from China who’d also applied and been approved would be paired with me, based on age and interests. Only this first letter was prewritten. Once we were paired up, the letters themselves and the mailing of them was up to me and my family. 

I was lucky I got a match at all, most of the kids in my class didn’t. I learned pretty quickly why: I was the only one who put “dancing” as an interest.  

Summer 2007

...

This was a frog I found at the lake! Mom got mad that I touched it, and when it jumped out of my hands and back into the water, it got mud all over us!! 

Later we had a barbecue and some other campers came buy, but their kids were teenagers and didn’t wanna play with me, so here is a picture of me pouting in the tent instead of having fun. 

...

This is the last one, when we finally got home from the long car ride. we all were sunburned really bad, but it looks like you can see freckles on my face because of it! 

Whenever either of us would go on trips, even just to the water park or to a festival, we’d take Polaroid pictures to send. Most the earlier pictures Minghao sent were of him at tournaments, then they turned into selfies from after dance practice. It wasn’t until they were in their teens that he began to take more artsy pictures, with the occasional selfie thrown in. He’d always put at least one polaroid in each envelope, and photography quickly became one of the many things he excelled at. 

Winter 2010

…

And I still can’t believe you were on TV!! Twice!!! All these letters… I can use them as blackmail someday when you’re a superstar! Muahah!!

I’m not nearly as good as you still, but Miss Lilly says my footwork has gotten a lot better! I wish you could teach me, but words don’t have the same effect as seeing it. I doubt I’d get it even if you tried to explain… and don’t even think about trying to teach me any martial arts, my brain will melt!!

…

My letters were always a bit longer than Minghao’s, and were full of run on sentences and unorganized thoughts. He was always clear and concise, yet sensitive. He always gave strong and encouraging advice on my Mandarin, but my English tips barely seemed to help him. I always cared more about getting to know him and telling my own stories than about practicing. Though, I don’t know what stories I had worth telling as a 13 year old. We contrasted each other a lot, and Mom said it made us a better fit for each other.

It wasn’t a weekly thing, but we always wrote when we could and has a steady back and forth. Sometimes the envelopes were thick, with many pages, postcards, candies, cool leaves or rocks we’d found, songs we had been listening too; things we cared about and wanted to share. But sometimes they were thin, barely a page long, with hastily written characters and a sincere apology. Both made me smile the same just the same – both showed how much he cared.

 Spring 2012

Perhaps it was because we were the same age, and despite not meeting, had spent so much time together. He somehow always understood me, and never made jokes when I was opening up about the less fun sides of life. He went at his own pace, and it took quite some time, but he eventually felt comfortable doing the same.

…

I’ve worked so hard for this, I know I’m capable, but I’m genuinely terrified. But I’m excited, too. I feel so overwhelmed and I don’t feel like I can tell anyone, they’ll worry, or they’ll tell me I shouldn’t do it.

I want to try. I want to be on that stage and in that tournament and I want to come out having earned something.

…

 Fall 2012

 Congratulations!! Now I can brag that I know THE Xu Minghao who won 8th at a WORLD DANCE COMPETITION!!!! I knew you’d do great. Yeah, you were nervous, but your hard work showed through!

As soon as I read the news online, I was so happy. Eight is a good number, right? I think It suits you. Even when you're laying down, you have infinite potential! That’s you, Xu Minghao, Number 8, my best friend.

Come to think of it, it's been about 8 years since we met, hasn’t it? it must be some sort of prophecy!!! Haha I’m kidding, but seriously… That’s more than half our lives. We’ve spent knowing each other half of the time we’ve even been on this Earth!

I’m really glad I know you, Minghao. I’d be lonely without your letters, I think. I hope I make your days brighter, like you make mine. I hope we never forget about each other.

 It was rare for me to get so sentimental, but he needed someone to be his fan, and I wanted to be the best fan of Xu Minghao I could be. Not to say I was the first, like I would joke about doing, but because he deserves it. I knew it from the way he talked about training, that he’d make himself a star someday, no matter what.

Because of this, though, it was this letter and onward that we stopped doing the copies and corrections. I noticed myself missing his teasing marks on my papers, or the cheeky smiley faces he’d draw when I did well. We stopped sending trinkets and polaroids too, so each envelope felt a lot emptier.

 Spring 2013

I’m really going to Korea now… The flight is in a few days, I’ll send you another letter from the new address as soon as I get there, so please wait for it!

…

I had bad dreams back then, about how things would be different, slower and distant. His letters were a significant part of my life, and I was afraid to lose that. Yet I was surprised he was even allowed to keep sending me letters. Retrospectively thinking though, it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to write to his family.

Was I like family to him back then?

 Winter 2013

I’m sorry for not writing you back sooner. The company has been really busy with Seventeen TV starting. I’ve been practicing a lot, I barely have time to eat or sleep, let alone sit down and write. There’s barely anyone around who knows Mandarin, and I’m still just learning how to make sentences in Korean, and they call me Myungho… Those who I can talk to are all boys, but they’re my friends, and possible group members, so I shouldn’t mind.

I miss your handwriting. Sometimes I reread our old letters, and notice that we’ve changed so much. But I keep every memory, did you know that?

I always feel better quickly. When I think about being on a stage, having fans singing with us and cheering for me… It makes me so happy that I cry, sometimes. But then I can’t help but think, “Will it ever be me? Or will I just dream of being there, and someone else will get the chance?”

That’s usually when I find one of your letters. The one you sent on my birthday a couple months ago, that you sprayed with that citrus scent? It’s my favorite, I relax so much when I read it. It reminds me of home, somehow.

I’ll try to write more often, I’m sure you’ve been patiently waiting. Let’s exchange pictures again, it’s been a while, right? I just really miss you.

 Was he like family to me? No… I think, back then at least, it was something special for me.

Summer 2014

Hey! I haven't heard from you since April! I miss you a lot, but I know you must be really busy. I’ve been trying to watch the previous Seventeen TV episodes when I can, the other boys seem funny and nice. I hope they all take care of you, like you say Junhui has been.

I’m always wishing you sweet dreams, I worry about how you’ve been. I wish I’d have asked for your phone number or email or something before, but now that you’re so busy and under a big company… I just hope these letters and postcards reach you well.

…

Fall 2014

…

Also, they’ve been saying I’ll qualify to be on SeventeenTV soon. The others are hoping it’s a sign that we’ll get to debut soon. You’ll watch it, right?

Things are looking bright for me and my brothers here, but I can’t help but feel full of dread. I can’t pinpoint why. Junhui said it might be stage fright, but I don’t feel afraid.

I know they all support me, and I support them, but I feel like I might disappear, and not even you would remember me. I know its not true but it’s what I’m feeling.

…

Winter 2014

I SAW YOU!! I watched it as soon as it released, I didn’t understand what most of them were saying without English subtitles, but I could understand you, and I saw you! I’m so proud of you Minghao, you’re an official member of Seventeen!! You’ve been working so hard, I’m sure you’re exhausted. Please try and take time to rest and heal before debut, all of you need it!

…

Spring 2015

May 26th 2015. That is the day I debut. I know we haven't talked much, but I hope you’ll be there in spirit. Thinking about you cheering for me makes it easier to handle. I’ll fight for you, for me, for them, and for us. I’ll try, even though things feel like they’re ending.

I’m going to be busier than before. I’m not sure about the contract, but I’ll try to still get letters out. For now, have this. Thank you for everything.

A layer of grey I can't escape Walls built of fear are colored all over with red Who will listen to the sound from the bottom of my heart at the end of the world(/day) There's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking I can't find love at all So why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Hidden by the dark clouds, helpless and pitiful Can't feel myself, light is lost Before the end of the world(/day), (I'm) yelling, sounds of pain But there's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking After I disappear completely, (you) won't realize I once existed Why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Falling endlessly, falling in silence What did I ever do wrong

Missing someone you’ve never met is an entirely separate kind of heartbreak. I began to doubt every single thought and feeling I had, every single word I wrote, everything began to bleed between imagination, ideal, and reality. 

The Minghao I watched on the screen wasn’t the Minghao I knew, and I started to wonder if I ever truly knew him in the first place. I felt like a fool, and even then, I continued to be foolish. I wanted to believe I knew what he meant; that I understood him, but as the years went on, I got more and more lost.

They won awards, they went on variety shows, they released albums, they went on tours. They traveled, they worked, and they grew. I needed to believe I knew him, but Minghao and The8 are not the same. And as I grew to love The8, Minghao began to fade into the back of my mind. When I watched him try to express himself beyond his stage persona, each time I saw flashes of a beautiful bird locked in a rusted cage.

I always kept the letters.

They’re my private collection of memories between he and I. They were the only way I knew it was real. I could run my fingers over his handwriting, feel how he sometimes pressed too hard and left marks in the paper. I could see how the paper and ink warped when he accidentally got tears on it. I could look at his pictures from his childhood and know what he was thinking as he took it. 

I knew him.

Summer 2020

Hey, Minghao. It’s me, do you still remember my handwriting? Maybe it’s changed... No, I know it has, because I’ve changed as a person. It feels strange, I know what you’ve been up to, but you might’ve even forgotten my name. But I feel in my heart that you havn’t. Maybe thats wishful thinking.

Anyway, I’m so proud of you Minghao. You’re a superstar, just like you dream of being back when you first started dancing. You’ve become part of a family, and have so many fans cheering for you every single day. Congratulations!!

…

5 years. Does the smell of citrus still remind you of home? Of me? Maybe it just reminds you of the hard times you had back then. But I guess you’ve been reminiscing about that a lot lately?

I watched the video as soon as it came out, and I was shaking as soon as I heard your voice. That song isn’t a special piece of yourself that you shared with me anymore, but it’s part of your story for the whole world to see, and you told it so well.

...

I miss you.

It was finally time.

It was a fairly thick envelope, inside were many postcards of where I’ve been, quickly written notes as I reacted to songs and memorable moments, and full-length letters that never got sent.

It was so surreal to sit in front on him at this panel. He looks just like he did as a kid, but more refined, stronger inside and out. His aura intimidated me like I was seeing a skyscraper touch the clouds for the first time, and yet he maintained eye contact with me like I was a dandelion about to be blown away with the breeze.

“It’s me, Minghao.” The words barely drifted from my mouth, but they struck him like lightning as realization stealing his breath away. For a moment I saw his eyes twinkle, and the corners of this lips twitch.

A member of staff took the envelop away from him; he barely was able to read the label.

My time would be up soon.

His fingers intertwined with mine and he opens my photobook to his page with his free hand, looking down for only a moment to sign it.

The next Carat was nudging my shoulder already.

“Not yet.” I whispered both to them and to him with a squeeze of his hand. He did the same, like a beat of the heart, and then released. I watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he gave the next fan the same focus and care he gave me. 

I forced a smile on my face as I scooted over.

Did he truly realize it was me? Why could I feel his heart beating faster from the tips of his fingers? Did he want to contact me all this time, or had he chosen to stop and was scared to tell me? Did he miss me too?  

My smile was only fake for a moment, though.

I was meeting his second family for the first time, after all, I needed to make a good impression. After years of keeping up with the group, it should have been easier to feel comfortable, and to be happy like the others.

Yet my hands continued to shake, their faces blurred and the sounds around me went quiet. My senses went in and out of focus like waves reaching and leaving the shore.

The warmth and the texture of his hand stained mine, and as i stared down at it after going back to my seat in the crowd, it felt alien. His hands are same hands that have been writing my name on every envelope for so many years...

I felt like I was falling.

[goindownshipping]

‘ this is your favorite, right? ' - frostiron, if you please :D

A few of my favorite things

Pairing: Tony Stark/Loki (Frostiron)

Rating: Gen (G)

Notes: Some snarky frostiron fluff for your consideration! Thanks for the prompt @ohwereusingourmadeupnames​!

Warnings: Quasi teacher/student (Tony is a student teacher, Loki is his cooperating teacher), but everyone is of age and nothing happens until it would be deemed appropriate :)

Word count: 2k

Summary:

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word ... Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man.

Or, Loki and Tony connect when Tony is assigned as Loki’s student teacher for a semester. Some lack of communication can’t get in the way of their witty infatuation and eventual love for each other.

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word. He had some of the brightest students he’d ever taught in his classes that semester; the AP students were bright and up for the challenge, the ninth graders were eager to learn, and his research students asked all the right questions. He knew all those students were going on to bigger and brighter things, many of them would be back the following year, though. 

However, the students weren’t the challenging ones to say goodbye to. Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man. 

Five months ago, Anthony Stark walked into Loki’s classroom with a natural affinity for science and education that Loki had never seen or experienced. Sure, he was a young teacher himself, but he knew that what Mr. Stark possessed was special. He was proven correct when he observed Tony build real relationships with students, reimagine teaching styles to meet their needs, and take on responsibilities that neither Loki nor his professors expected of him.

Tony’s knack for high school chemistry and physics only scratched the surface of who he was. Loki couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t struck by Tony’s beauty from the very beginning, but he knew that wasn’t a subject that he could broach while Tony was under his mentorship. Tony never pushed it, but he knew the lingering glances and accidental touches were mutual between him and his cooperating teacher. There was one particular interaction between the two men that neither of them seemed to be able to shake.

About halfway through the semester, right around spring break, Loki and Tony were sitting around Loki’s desk grading exams and going over Tony’s progress. Loki had his daily English Breakfast tea in hand and Tony had to physically force himself to keep his eyes on the stack of tests in front of him rather than the gorgeous man across the desk.

“You know, these kids are only doing so well this year because you’re such a great teacher,” Loki said.

Tony blushed slightly. “I don’t know about that. You designed the curriculum.”

“Sure, but you’ve been taking the lead for the past few weeks. You figured out the best way to teach the concepts, not me.”

“Well, thank you. But I really am learning from the best.”

Loki blushed this time, but couldn’t bring himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Have you thought about your plans for after graduation? You could get a job teaching physics or chemistry anywhere, Anthony. You’ve done really well here.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not sure. My family really doesn’t want me to go into teaching at the high school level. I’ve been accepted to a Ph.D. program with a research emphasis…” Tony trailed off.

Loki looked up at the hesitation in Tony’s voice. “Is that what you want Anthony?”

Tony held his gaze. “It doesn’t really matter what I want, does it?”

Loki paused. He knew Tony’s family life was complicated. Being a Stark certainly wasn’t easy. He also knew that Tony wasn’t only referring to that particular situation with his comment.

“Anthony,” Loki started. 

“No, don’t,” Tony said firmly. “Please.” His shoulders sagged, all the fight going out of him with that final plea.

“For what it’s worth, I know what you mean,” Loki conceded.

Tony snorted, “Thanks, Mr. L.”

“Really, Tony? Mr. L?” Loki’s face morphed into a combination of hurt and confused. Over the past few months he and Tony had grown close; closer than he could’ve expected to grow with a student teacher. He knew it wasn’t breaking any rules, but he made sure that their relationship, if you could even call it that, never crossed any lines.

Loki cherished their daily chats over coffee and tea, countless inside jokes, and private smiles more than almost anything. He would give anything to explore a relationship with Tony outside the classroom, but he couldn’t do that - not yet. Tony just had a few more months under his guidance, then they could figure it out. He only hoped Tony would still be interested that far down the road.

“Sorry, Loki. It’s just- you know.”

“I know, Tony. Let’s get just get through this,” he gestured to the tests between them, “and go from there. Then once the semester is over, we’ll figure that out too,” he said hopefully.

The rest of the semester passed smoothly. Their students continued succeeding and Loki and Tony moved around each other seamlessly in the classroom, creating a positive learning environment for everyone. After school hours, Tony and Loki chatted over their hot beverage of choice and continued to build a connection neither man saw coming.

That was why Loki was so surprised when the last day of school came and went without so much as a goodbye from his student teacher. Tony’s semester had ended a few weeks prior, so his final evaluations and observations were already completed. When the high school semester came to an end, there weren’t any loose ends for him to tie up. As soon as that final bell rang, he was out the door without so much as a backward glance.

At first, Loki was hurt and confused. He thought they would’ve at least talked about whatever they could be once the school year ended. Tony’s disappearance made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in figuring anything out. 

A few weeks into summer, Loki’s confusion turned into acceptance. He knew how much pressure Tony was under, both self-inflicted and from his family. Loki resigned himself to thinking wishful thoughts that Tony found a way to pursue his own dreams, not the ones he was pressured to explore.

--

3 months later

The start of the school year was always chaotic. No matter how much planning and preparation Loki did, the first day of high school chemistry never seemed to go smoothly. From the fear in the eyes of his advanced placement students to the sheer boredom of his last class of the day, it was always the longest day of the year. At the same time, he never seemed to have enough time to actually get the ball rolling. When the last 16 year old sluggishly exited his classroom at 2:30pm, Loki was ready to collapse.

And he would have if there wasn’t an immediate knock at his classroom door. So much for catching his breath. He glanced through the narrow rectangular window and was surprised by the familiar dark eyes he found peering back at him. He nodded at the visitor, indicating for them to come in. His breath caught at the sight of Anthony Stark standing on the threshold of his classroom. It was a familiar sight and yet everything was different from that day nearly nine months prior.

“Anthony?”

“Figured I should make the rounds finally,” Tony shrugged. “Being the new kid on the block can be pretty tough.”

“The new- what?”

“Didn’t Fury tell you there was a new Physics teacher in the department?”

“Well, yes, I knew we were hiring, but just last week it was still vacant.”

“Well just last week I decided research was overrated,” Tony said with a smile.

“It’s lovely to see you, Anthony.” Loki’s face stretched into a grin without his permission and suddenly he was grinning like an idiot at the man in front of him. He took a few steps toward the door as Tony pulled the door shut behind him. 

Tony smiled that crooked grin and Loki’s resolve nearly broke. “Oh,” Tony closed the distance between them and reached a hand forward, extending a large reusable mug into Loki’s hand. “This is your favorite, right?”

Loki looked down in disbelief then back up at Tony as the scent of English Breakfast filled his nose as the steam billowed up from the mug. “Depends on what you’re referring to. You or the tea? Because it’s a hard decision right now.”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Tony smirked. With that, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Loki called, desperate to stop Tony before he opened the door to the chaotic after school hallway.

Tony turned around, his hand loosely gripping the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Don’t just leave again,” Loki whispered, a hopeful smile on his face.

“I couldn’t have gone far, Loki. My classroom is just down the hall.”

“Still. Let’s get out of here. There’s never any real work to be done on the first day, right?”

Tony’s face broke into a grin again. “You tell me, Mr. L.”

“Oh god, no. None of that,” Loki groaned.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot in 15 minutes.” Tony waved and before Loki could reply, he was disappearing down the hall.

Loki smiled as he sipped his tea, not quite sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t be mad about it. He quickly straightened up his classroom and locked the cabinets before laying out his plans for the following day. Before he knew it he was packing up his briefcase and locking his classroom. The halls were gratefully quiet by then, and when he made it to the parking lot he couldn’t help the pleasant butterflies in his chest at the sight of Anthony leaning against his car.

By the time he was directly in front of the slightly younger man, he had to physically stop himself from reaching out.

“So, where to Mr. Stark?”

“You’re not too far from here, yeah? Is it too forward to invite myself to your house?”

“Certainly not,” Loki smiled. “I’m just over there,” Loki gestured to his car across the lot. “Follow me out?”

“Sure thing!”

Loki stood still for a moment too long, and Tony didn’t miss the opportunity to let his eyes sweep up and down Loki’s tall figure. Loki felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the attention Tony was giving him. After just a few months away, he couldn’t seem to get his fill.

“You want a ride or something?” Tony asked with a smirk.

“Excuse me?!” Loki spluttered.

“To your car, Bambi. You look like a deer in the headlights.”

Loki cleared his throat and took a small step backward when he heard a group of students on the field behind the parking lot. “I’ll be just fine, Anthony. I’ll see you shortly.”

Loki could hear Tony laughing softly as he took long strides across the concrete, desperate to stop embarrassing himself for just a moment. He knew it would continue at his house, but a short break was better than nothing. As soon as he was behind the wheel he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks and the tops of his ears were bright red, no doubt due to Tony’s flirting and teasing. Loki shook his head with a smile. He was in for an interesting afternoon.

--

3 years later

“Hey, Lokes!” Tony called down the hall. “We’ve gotta go if we don’t want to be late!”

Loki scurried down the hall from their bedroom into the kitchen, looking nowhere near ready for the day. His hair was barely pulled back and the buttons on his shirt were off by one, creating an unintentional asymmetric look.

“Fix your shirt, I’ll get your tea,” Tony said fondly.

Loki pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek, continuing his tornado-like movement throughout the kitchen. “Thank you, Anthony. You’re the best.”

Tony just nodded and smiled to himself, watching his fiance bustle around the kitchen and grab random papers and books that had been strewn across the counters for weeks. As soon as Tony placed a lid on Loki’s tea and his own coffee, he turned to find Loki smiling right back at him.

“Ready, love?”

“After you, Mr. L.”

“Hey, that’ll be Mr. S soon enough,” Loki retorted as he headed for the front door.

Tony shook his head, “You still sure about that?”

Loki squeezed Tony’s hand, “More than. After all, you are my favorite.”

[apptowonder]

On the Inherent Chaotic Queer Energy of “Cats” (No, Really)

In Which the Author Relates His Early Affinity For the Musical Cats, And Meditates in Rapt Contemplation On Its Effect On His Own Queer Coming of Age.

Ok, I’ll drop the Eliotian/Victorian pretense. But in all seriousness, this is going to be a long ramble on the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical Cats, because I saw the recording of the 1998 Broadway performance again for the first time in probably 14 years and it made me Feel Feelings (tm). Plus a comrade of mine expressed similar enthusiasm and it inspired me.

I -- First Viewing

When I was 10 or 11 years old, for a brief period after seeing Cats for the first time at a local dinner theater production, I was enamored in ways I couldn’t put into words. I was not, and have not really ever been a theater queer. I did a few plays up through high school, and stopped doing theater in college when I lost interest and found out it would take time away from gospel choir. But there was something about the way these characters moved, the charisma they carried themselves with that stuck with me. Unlike some of my queer friends, I don’t have the sense that “I always knew” I liked boys as well as other genders. As a tween, I felt very aloof from romantic interest except for one long-lasting crush on a girl in 5th grade that lasted through middle school. But as I continue to look back, I do think I felt a certain stirring in my gut for certain charismatic male figures, almost like an imprinting. Early affection and crushes manifested in a desire to be like the attractive heroes I admired.

I wanted to be Mr Mistofelees, the Original Conjuring Cat. I also wanted to be Munkustrap, the unassuming but brave and suave narrator, unofficial leader of the Jellicle Tribe. Honorable mention goes to the Rum Tum Tugger, whose rock star persona definitely exudes bi energy, but he felt less approachable to me. In any case, though I didn’t realize it at the time, something was very queer about these cats.

II -- On the Naming of Cats -- Munkustrap

Why I felt drawn to this character is hard to sum up. He doesn’t have his own song, his name is only listed in the program. But he does have considerable stage time. Serving as the narrator and Master of Ceremonies for the Jellicle Ball, right-hand man to Old Deuteronomy, and the only cat willing to go toe to toe with Macavity, he had a certain gravitas that I found compelling. He is humble, as I strive to be. Caring and protective of his family, but not overly aggressive. Confident, but not overbearing. He seemed that he would be the perfect gentle lover, someone who could take you to new and unexpected places but would also make sure that you were safe and loved. 

On a deeper level, perhaps my identifying with this character was a kind of rehearsal for the years to come. Munkustrap served as both the boy I wanted to meet and the boy I wanted to be. When I came out and became invested in queer community and queer Christian community especially, I found myself slowly falling into the role of psychopomp and threshold guardian for some of my gayby Christian friends who were either newly coming out or newly trying to reconcile their faith and sexuality. I would direct them to apologetics resources, but I think my greater strength was in being a kind of MC who would invite them into a new queer reality, a celebration of the richness of life and a vision of the vastness of both theology and queer vibrancy. In a sense, I invited them to a Jellicle ball.* I would invite them to dance beneath the moon of our shared experience, and show to them that far from being incomplete or broken, they had their own power and beauty, were possessed of “Terpsichorean powers” which would serve as a mysterious gift to the wider world.

The first boy I dated was a Munkustrap. Gentle, but fun-loving. Willing to meet me where I was, but also encouraging me to new heights of intimacy, feeling and adventure. Though we eventually parted ways, we remained good friends, and I will be forever grateful to him for leading me from an abstract appreciation of my queerness to a deeply embodied possession of it that I can now live out for the glory of God and the good of humanity, like a cat has a deep embodied possession of its third and secret name.

III -- On the Naming of Cats -- Mr. Mistoffelees

“Oh, well I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees?”

Coming in at the eleventh hour to save the day, Mr. Mistoffelees employs his magical powers to rescue Old Deuteronomy when all other help fails. In the production I saw, he literally flies down onto the stage (on a wire) and proceeds to produce phantasmagorical phenomena and easily conjures up the kidnapped patriarch of the Jellicle Tribe from the place he’s been sequestered. He is flashy, elegant, flamboyant, coy, “aloof” but always fun-loving. Perhaps more importantly, in all the performances I’ve seen, he seems elegantly attuned to some deeper sixth sense. Beneath the playful surface is a deep power that manifests in impressive ways. The show relays his power through the metaphor of stage magic, but to me he also seemed to have a touch of something mystical, spiritual. I felt both awe and affection for that sensitive attunement, and how it was packaged in such a playful personality.

In my own life as queer clergy, I have sought to develop that kind of attunement. Though spirituality is a bit slower and more messy than conjuring, I have received compliments from colleagues queer and straight that I often speak the exact right prayer for the needs of a given moment. I write poems and try to breathe new life into the life-giving stories of my spiritual tradition, my life and the lives of my queer tribes. I’m always eager to come up with an impromptu liturgical service when circumstance dictates, and I draw on vocabulary from the saints and mystics as well as my own love of language and poetry. Playfulness is, to me, a spiritual virtue, and I love to offer inspiring surprises from the depths of the wisdom I have inherited from those who have gone before. When friends (especially queer Christian friends) are stuck in demoralizing binaries and limited horizons of purity culture, toxic theology, or other spiritual burdens, I will often pull a shimmering anecdote from the lives of the saints, or an ancient word of curiosity that opens up a new way of seeing the world. In a way, I’m pulling kittens out of hats. 

Ironically but also fittingly, when I kept my queerness under wraps, my poetry was vivid but strained. Overwrought, often melancholy but rarely insightful. And I would pray when someone asked me to, but it generally consisted of generic requests that didn’t really mean much to me. I had to become fabulous and be willing to be in touch with the queer wonder of both my loves and my experiences before I began to really tap into that spiritual current that I am still learning how to channel for the life of the world. I’m still a beginner, and in my day to day life I’m fairly quiet and introspective. Aloof, perhaps. But I feel that my openness to queer joy, queer eros and queer vibrancy have begun to throw open a way to my own wholeness and the invigorating and revival of many of my communities. I don’t do this alone, and I am still learning from my many queer elders and forerunners. As I study and practice and bring forth vision, I continue to learn “from Mr. Mistofelees’ conjuring turn.”

At Pride a year or two ago, I met a Mr. Mistofelees of sorts. A pagan boy, playful and flashy, with a golden voice. He ended up being a bit too flighty for me, but he helped me find a bit more of my flamboyant side by getting me to do karaoke, and introducing me to the queer night life in a new city. In our own separate ways, we both helped each other I think be deeper attuned to that electric queer energy that flows into creativity, presence, wonder and resilience like lightning flows from Mistofelees’ fingertips. We pranced about our respective stages and conjured beauty for one another.

IV -- Memory (Some Thoughts on the Queerness of the Musical, and Some Final Reflections)

And what of the musical as a whole. What is it about Cats that struck such a chord with my very young queer self, and still does?

To me, it has an energy to it that resonates very deeply with queer experience. It delights in elevated pageantry, but it takes its own internal logic and way of being seriously. There is something about the mystery and spectacle of it that feels like a queer way of being. Despite the charge leveled against us by demagogues and queerphobes that we’re simply decadent, queer experience to me has always been about experiencing a heightened sense of reality, be that in adventure, sensuality, joy, beauty, celebration or pleasure. As the meme goes, before you say we’re too much, ask yourself, are you even enough?

Furthermore, the show is sensual and embodied in a way that many more conventional Broadway musicals aren’t. It delights in being just a little bit bawdy, while at the same time showcasing an excellence in the choreography and visuals that requires a good deal of skill and physical effort. In coming out and coming to know queer community, I began to listen better to my body and to be more comfortable in my own skin. To delight in the magic of touch and sensory beauty.

Finally, the sensuousness that undergirds the show also displays a very free flowing romantic and affectional subtext between different characters. Two cats may flirt or make eyes at each other, but there’s no expectation that they might not also catch the eye of a completely different cat in the next scene. They perform with a subtle erotic undertone that suggests both tenderness and hedonism, but all in the context of a tight-knit community that cares for its own. The fanfiction community for Cats presents a rainbow of different romantic pairings for various characters, and the lack of consensus as to which ones are “canon” speaks to the show’s affectational fluidity and dynamism.

In the end, the Jellicle cats all present a world within the everyday that is deeply queer and fluid, a “thin space” where personalities are larger than life and anything is possible. In this gay and mystifying romp, I was moved to a consideration in the years since I saw it of my own “secret names” as a future queer seminarian and priest (though I didn’t know it then). While it may seem bewildering to some, I continue to cherish it as a tribute to the great mysteries of queer existence, love and community. And that’s how you address us cats.

*Props to my comrade for extending on and fleshing out this metaphor in his blog post.

[jmflowers]

I was tagged by @authorette44​ and @piratekane​

1. Do you make your bed? Sometimes I do not. Sometimes I get a rush of inspiration and I do. 

2. What’s your favorite number? 27 for the sheer comfort it’s supplied me since I was 17. 9 because it’s been my favourite number since I was a kid.

3. What’s your job? I am a Senior Staff Lead and Social Media Coordinator for a local Agricultural-Tourism Farm. I also work part time as a Sorter in the Ontario Distribution Center for a multi-billion dollar, multi-national warehouse chain - in their refrigerated section. When not at either of those places, I am driving deliveries for an Edible Arrangements location, teaching ballet, or being coerced into taking photos for money. I’m applying for college programs to get my Television Broadcasting degree. 

4. Can you parallel park? I absolutely can. For some odd reason, I am exceptionally good at it when driving rental vehicles and less so when driving my own. 

5. A job you’ve had which would surprise people? I delivered newspapers for more than 18 years, and also had a stint for several years as a professional clown. I can still balloon sculpt. 

6. Do you think aliens are real? Big universe, we’re probably aliens to something else out there. 

7. Can you drive a manual car? I wish. Manual cars are very uncommon here and I haven’t had access to one to learn. 

8. What’s your guilty pleasure? So, the dictionary definition of a guilty pleasure is literally: a movie, television program, or piece of music that one enjoys despite feeling that it is not held in high regard. APPARENTLY. In that case, there’s a lot of Kylie Minogue in my playlist and her sweet angel pop beats are what get me through long days in the warehouse. 

9. Tattoos? I have two, acquired at ages 18 and 27. No immediate plans for any more. 

10. Favorite color? Purple, orange, pink, blue. The sunset or sunrise, basically. 

11. Things people do that drive you crazy? Share propaganda news articles and posts on Facebook, and believe them without ever reading or researching any of the content. Choosing not to outright apologize, even when they’re admitting to having done something wrong (just say the words “I’m sorry”). 

12. Any phobias? I have emetophobia, which entails extreme fear surrounding the concept and act of vomiting, as well as seeing it. I struggled a lot with it for much of my life, but I was honest with people about it and got the support I needed to cope with it in my everyday life. 

13. Favorite childhood sport? I never excelled in anything athletic as a child, but my brother played baseball and so I went to a lot of games. I remember being good at European Handball the one gym class we got to play it, before the school decided it was unsafe. 

14. Do you talk to yourself? Not aloud, usually. I get pretty animated in the car when I’m alone, though. 

15. What movies do you adore? The animated Anastasia. Nottinghill. Nightmare Before Christmas. I’ve watched Café de Flore a few times. I don’t like watching movies alone, so I’ve not seen many in the last few years other than horror flicks. I like the films from the Ed & Lorraine Warren collection. 

16. Do you like puzzles? I did them constantly as a kid, but haven’t touched one in years. 

17. Favorite kind of music? Feel-good pop, indie, alternative, French pop. 

18. Tea or coffee? A decaf orange pekoe tea with two to three sugars and lactose free milk is how I begin most mornings. 

19. What’s the first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? An archaeologist. My brother’s a giant nerd; we watched a lot of documentaries.

I tag... @echofades, @strangefriendsgivegreatstories, @the-gnarly-bits, and @fmckeown

[alleiradayne]

Hello, I Love You

Summary: Sam is cast as Romeo in his college play and Natalie is his stage manager. When he asks her to read lines with him, she’s not quite sure what to make of it. Square Filled: Romeo and Juliet AU Warnings/Tags: Fluff, angst Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Natalie Murphy Word Count: 2,824 A/N: For @spnfluffbingo2019, this fills the square Romeo and Juliet AU. Thank you, as always, to @atc74 for beta’ing. Song: Hello, I Love You by The Doors

Love is heavy and light,  bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake.

Lips parted in thought, Sam paused for a breath, then rounded on his friends.

It's everything it’s—

“Okay, hold there.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Don't pause. Just keep rambling, he's despondent and sulking and whining about Rosaline. He's not… musing. He's not happy. Didn’t you read this in high school?”

Sam's glare nearly bored a hole into the director. “I performed it in high school.”

“Then you should know this shit,” Mr. Skinner groaned. “How old are you. Eighteen? You're a freshman?”

Natalie winced with her cast mates, and a groan drew Sam’s glare.

“I'm twenty-one, sir. I'm a grad student,” Sam stated. “I've been in the last four of your—”

“Right, you know what you're doing. Prove it.” Mr. Skinner flopped back into his chair and waved a flippant hand at the stage. When no one moved, he glared over his glasses and shouted, “Well?! Reset! Don't you all have… I don't know, homework to do?”

Everyone on stage but Sam leaped into motion, eager to please Mr. Skinner. After a long moment, Sam turned for stage left and stalked towards Natalie.

“I thought the pause was great,” she stated. “Romeo's flustered. He might take a beat at the end of his rambling to finish his thought.”

At least he smiled. “Thanks,” he muttered. “This show better not turn out like MacBeth did last semester.”

That show. Natalie groaned as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Liz said production was a hot mess. She’ll never let me live it down that I got cast in that one.”

Sam laughed as he watched the scene restart, their Mercucio taking the stage. “Why didn't you audition for this one?”

Heat stung her cheeks at the memory. “I did. For Juliet. I know this play by heart.”

Sam's brow quirked towards his hairline. “You didn't get the part?”

“I'm Miss Amy’s understudy,” she mocked in her irritated sing song voice.

“Oh,” Sam mused with a smile, “Yeah. I heard about her ‘audition’.”

“Whatever,” she drawled with a sigh. “It's fine, I love stage production. It'll be fun to work this one. You’re up.”

Sam turned back to the stage and smiled. “Should I pause again?”

She clamped a hand over her mouth as her barking laugh nearly ruined the scene. After a quick check of the stage, she muttered from behind her fingers, “Do it.”

His too pretty smile turned into a wicked grin as he strolled onto the stage. The scene progressed with his entrance, and Natalie attempted to take notes, but she could hardly concentrate. Though the entire conversation with Sam had lasted only a minute, her heart raced, and her palms sweat. Over the years they had worked together—whether acting, studying, or pontificating—Sam Winchester had always left Natalie wanting more.

She turned her back in preparation for the next entrance, forcing herself to concentrate on her work. Hopefully, the next two hours of rehearsal kept her busy and away from Sam, lest she finally make a fool of herself.

Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun Peered forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drove me to walk abroad, Where, underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from this city side, So early walking did I see your son. Towards him I made, but he was 'ware of me And stole into the covert of the wood. I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me

“He’s great,” Sam whispered.

Natalie rubbed her arms and pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “He is. Delivery could use a little kick in the pants, but other than projection, William is an excellent Benvolio.”

“Sure, that’s—” he started, but paused as Natalie continued to rub her arms. Something had upset her. Not that Natalie was the most cheerful person. But over their undergrad and now well into their graduate programs together, Sam had learned a great deal about her. Hell, she probably knew him better than any of his friends. But that would be expected of actors constantly working together. Rehearsals and running lines and discussing delivery, intent, emotion. All of it amounted to a very close, near intimate bond.

Except Sam felt much stronger about her than he cared to admit to anyone. Especially Natalie. But as she glared at William out on the stage reciting his soliloquy to close out the rehearsal, her dark stare and hunched shoulders said more than words could.

He leaned into her and asked, “Are you alright?”

Natalie dropped her hands to her sides with a flustered scoff, but she made no move to separate herself from him. “I’m fine,” she demanded.

He leaned closer still and whispered, “Are you sure?”

Any subtler and he might have missed it, but a shiver coursed through her entire body. “I’m… I’m fine, Sam. What are you doing?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” he started as an excuse manifested in the middle of his thought. “I don’t want anyone to overhear.”

A pink hue colored her cheeks as she sucked a breath deep into her lungs. “What is it?”

“Would you want to read lines with me tonight?”

She rounded on him with a wide stare. “Why?”

“Because you know Juliet’s lines,” Sam said with a shrug.

Natalie turned back to the stage. “So does Amy. You two should practice. She’s your leading lady, you need to make it convincing with her.”

“She said she was busy this week studying for calculus,” he sighed.

Natalie quirked a brow at him. “You could just wait until she's available.”

Shit. Maybe he had read her wrong. The sudden worry that all their previous interactions were less than he had imagined sickened him. “Okay, so it’s an excuse to hang out. I miss reading lines with you. Macbeth, Twelfth Night, Midsummer! They were so much fun.”

A small smile curled her lips. “You made quite the Ass.”

“And you were the perfect Titania.”

That hit a little too close to the truth. Natalie stared at him once more, silent but scrutinizing his countenance. Did she know? He had envied Oberon in that production. But as the playwright-turned-donkey, he had shared a scene with Natalie, and though it hit the intended comedic beats, there was something to be said about her laying across his lap as she fed him grain from a burlap bag.

He wondered if she still had her purple fairy fishnet dress.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

The memory vanished in a wisp of smoke as Sam shook his head. “Eh… nothing. Will you come over?”

For a terrible second, Sam thought she would decline. But then she asked, “What time?”

“Seven?”

She nodded. “I’ll be there at seven. You’re on.”

Relief washed over him as he clasped her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze, then slipped past her for the stage. “Thanks. See you later.”

That time he felt it. Through that innocent touch, a shiver coursed through her body and into his. Maybe, he hoped, just maybe he hadn’t been so wrong about her after all.

“Oh.”

Sam returned from the tiny kitchen with water and found Natalie pouring over his copy of the script. “What?”

She pointed to the page. “This scene?” she asked as she dropped onto the couch. “It's… so overrated.”

Sam gestured with her glass and she took it from him. “I need to practice. Mr. Skinner is gonna chew me a new one again if I don’t nail it in rehearsal later this week.”

Natalie nodded as she grunted in agreement. “The problem isn't really you though. You need to make it sound convincing when you’re saying all this… shit to Amy.”

Sam sat beside her as he set his glass of water on the table. “Shit?”

A derisive snort burst from her nose as she rolled her eyes. “It’s terrible tripe. Saccharin sweet. They’re teenagers and have no idea what love is, and yet, they die for each other over a minute of infatuation.”

Great. Sam could have kicked himself then. How had he not known? Given her audition for Juliet, he had assumed she loved the play. He backpedaled as hard and quick as he could think. “I think maybe that was Shakespeare's point. Given all of his other comedies, tragedies, and romances, he was constantly commenting on social and political constructs. Maybe the mere concept of destined soulmates pissed him off enough to write about two star-crossed lovers dying for each other.”

It wasn't as if they had never sat so close together. Hell, Sam had, so many times before that night, rest his head in her lap as she played with his hair while they rehearsed Midsummer. And he remembered losing himself in her icy blue stare so many times. But of late he had forgotten that sensation, that chill as it raced down his spine and numbed his fingers and toes when her gaze met his. She stared openly, unabashed as she searched his own eyes, but for what he did not know. Each little twitch of her stare flitted from one spot to the next—his hair, his nose, his throat—then came to rest on his lips. His own eyes slipped to hers, full and parted in a subtle, silent “oh” as though she were shocked to see him so close, closer than ever before even though it wasn't true.

“You have very… colorful eyes.”

“... Heterochromia.”

The moment shattered like so many tiny pieces of glass. “What?”

“I… uh. My eyes. Heterochromia. That’s why there’s some green and brown hazel mixed in the center of the blue and grey,” Sam explained through a sigh.

“They’re captivating,” Natalie started. “I've always wondered why they looked that way.”

That had caught him flat-footed. “Really?”

Natalie shrunk away as though suddenly self-aware. “Yeah… um, never mind. Forget I said anything, I was just rambling. Should we get to this?” she asked as she pointed to the script.

Resigned, Sam nodded.

“Alright. Take it away, Romeo,” she directed as she swung open an imaginary set of balcony windows.

Sam slipped from his spot on the couch in a fit of inspiration and sat on the floor so that he might look up to Natalie as though she truly stood on a balcony above him.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

A part of him agreed with Natalie. Shakespear’s Romeo wore love on his sleeves and acted on impulse, like a lovestruck, moody teen. Whereas Juliet was levelheaded and, while equally infatuated with Romeo after such a brief meeting, wanted to leave things where they were, given issues between their families.

A thousand times the worse to want thy light Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

And yet, as Sam continued through the clichés and romantic tropes, the less he felt as though he were reciting the lines and the more he felt as though he spoke from the heart. The longer he stared into Natalie's brilliant blue gaze, the deeper he fell. Sure, Romeo might be immature, but he had some incredible pickup lines.

It is my soul that calls upon my name. How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!

Sam couldn't help but wonder how Natalie felt. He held her hands in his and waited, her line a beat behind his but she remained silent. There was no way she had forgotten her line. He had seen her reciting them in the wings as he rehearsed with Amy. He wondered if she thought the pause poignant, to create some melodramatic tension befitting only Shakespeare. She seemed to be a fan of his subtle rhythm of delivery, rising and falling with his natural breath. Her own chest spilled over her arms as she drew air into her lungs and, at long last, said her line.

“I love you.”

The entire world stopped as though grasped in the hands of a mighty titan. For a second, Sam thought he had misheard her, but the sound of her voice looped like a broken record in his mind until the weight of it settled in the pit of his stomach. And for all Sam's talents, he knew without a doubt he had many faults, oblivious topping the list.

“That's not your line.”

A lilt of laughter he had never heard from her before bubbled up from where Sam couldn’t be sure. When she clamped her hand over her mouth, her cheeks brightened to a rosy red, and her eyes widened. Muffled words muted by her hand sounded like nothing more than gibberish, and when she scrambled from the couch and for her bag, Sam stood in a dumbfounded daze, unable to keep up.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just gonna… I’ll see you tomorrow at rehearsal,” Natalie stated as she rushed to the door, her coat half-donned and bag swinging from one arm.

The inexorable swing of the door slowed as though time stretched to give him a final chance. If he didn't take it, if he let her leave without telling her he felt the same way she did, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Long legs vaulted the back of the couch with ease as Sam lunged for the door. He caught it without an inch to spare, and flung it wide to find Natalie waiting at the elevator at the end of the hall. He said nothing and instead, ran down the hall and slid to a halt on the polished wood floor. He nearly ran into Natalie, stopping just at her side, and when her eyes met his, elevator arrived.

Her free hand slipped into his as he reached for her and said, “If my touch offends you, I could kiss you instead.”

Her stare narrowed as she turned into him. “Holding my hand is very polite of you,” she started as she raised his hand. “Palm to palm, they touch like a kiss.”

“But lips kiss better,” Sam retorted.

Her coy smirk met his grin as she grasped his free hand and said, “Lips that should pray.”

One smooth step closed the space between them, and Sam wrapped an arm around her, his hand splayed at the small of her back. “My lips pray that you’ll kiss me. Please don't ruin my faith.”

“Prayers are answered by those that remain still,” she stated. “How can I answer your prayer if I can move?”

Sam barked a laugh at her twisted interpretation. He towered over her as she leaned into him, and as their lips neared, he said, “Then hold still so that my prayer might be answered.”

Romeo might have had a few smooth lines, but they all paled in comparison to the feeling of Natalie's lips on his. No, she wasn't the sun, or a rose, or any of that bullshit. She was power and grace and faith all at once, unfiltered. As his lips met hers, Sam melted under the sheer force that was her presence, wanting nothing more than to stay there forever. But when they parted—eventually—Sam finished his thought.

“My sin has been taken from me by your lips.”

“Does that mean my lips bear your sin as well?” Natalie asked through a devious smile.

Sam shook his head as he said, “You enable my crime with such sweetness. Give me back my—”

Her lips landed on his before he finished speaking, a hard press that spun his head. Too long he lingered there in her embrace, so close he could hardly tell where he ended and she began. Her hand slipped from his to grasp his shirt, and he wrapped his arm around her to hold her close, closer than he thought possible. Any closer and he would cease to exist.

“Excuse me.”

In another world so far away, Sam heard the distant complaint of a woman. Rather than break their kiss, he picked Natalie up, his arms encircling her tiny body with ease, and carried her back to his room. When the door latched, Natalie parted from him, lips swollen and chest heaving for breath.

“You’ve been practicing.”

He laughed at that as he licked his lips clean. “I’m just glad there aren’t any nurses or mothers around to interrupt us at this point.”

“Me, too,” she agreed. “Would you kiss me again and show me what you’ve learned?”

Another laugh shared between them filled the room as Sam neared her lips once more.

“A thousand times, and a thousand times again.”

Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to reblog, too!

If you want in on any of my tags (Sam/Jared, Dean/Jensen), send me a DM or an ask!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN FLUFF BINGO MASTERLIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74  @hannahindie @bevans87  @meganwinchester1999  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus  @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox @wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm  @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs  @seenashwrite  @canadianspnhunter  @meowmeow-motherfucker @depressed-moose-78 @staycejo1 @hobby27  @pretty-fortune @mypopculturediva @fanfictionjunkie1112 @sandlee44 @4llmywr1tings @claitynroberts @maddiepants @scarletluvscas @donnaintx @blackeyedangel9805 @rainflowermoon @winchesterprincessbride  @lazinessisalliknow​ @the-is13​ @waywardafgrandma​ @keymology​ @sister-winchesters99​ @amanda-teaches​

Sam’s Sasstresses (Jared):

@karouwinchester

[cjfloodauthor-blog]

We Need to Talk About Alcoholism

Is it time to stop gaslighting yourself and stage your own intervention?

I’m trying to stop drinking, but alcohol won’t let me.

It recommends itself using my inner voice, the advice of my friends and family, billboards, the radio, books, TV.

One drink won’t hurt!

You can just have a couple.

YOLO! ; )

It doesn’t care how desperately I want to change my life or be able to trust myself or fill my time with other things.

Alcohol is like a charismatic bad boyfriend with a PhD in Neuro-Linguistic Programming who has taken over my mind, fooled my friends and family, and refuses to let me go.

You’ll never meet anyone who makes you feel the way I do.

I’d just turned thirty and my drinking had been out of control since I could remember, but recently I’d started to care. It used to be exciting, social, lost weekends and wild weekday nights; adventures and dancing and climbing scaffolding to look at the city stars. Now it was the same every time. Quiet nights in. Just me and a bottle of wine, sometimes a boyfriend, always the Internet.

I loved it, but I wasn’t in love. We wanted different things, but I didn’t know how to live sober.

“You don’t still stay up all night drinking, do you?” a friend asked, when I explained that I wouldn’t be able to make it out for dinner — although we hadn’t seen each other since we graduated, and she’d just travelled five hours to visit me — because I was still too hungover to be vertical.

“No!” I lied, instinctively. “It just got out of hand last night.”

She looked perplexed and I wished she’d leave. Because I loved her, but what do you do with non-drinkers? I tried my best not to know any, but this one slipped under the radar. Drinkers are wonderful because they don’t need entertaining. No plan required. You lead them to the pub and voila!

Her words echoed in my head long after she’d gone.

“You don’t still stay up all night drinking, do you?”

Was I not supposed to stay up drinking, then? Was it somehow ungainly and shameful and wrong?

The words hit a target I wasn’t aware resided within me. That sad, confused look! That was the reason I didn’t spend time with non-drinkers. Too judgey. So what if I was thirty and living the same life as when as I was twenty. I was a writer. (If only there were a key that adds a fanfare along with the italics.) So what if I lived in a shared house, with no food in the cupboards, still ‘borrowing’ money off Mum and Dad. That’s what writers did!

“But you’re a fun drunk!” a different friend told me, a year or so later, as I shared my longing for an alternate life in which I drank green juice and practiced yoga and went to the theatre; a life entirely incompatible with my current relationships, habits and behaviours.

I was thirty-two now, and there had been so many failed attempts at weeks or months of sobriety that even I couldn’t take myself seriously.

It was Friday night and this friend had agreed to accompany me to the cinema, because I was trying to avoid the pub, which meant trying to gain control of my life — though she didn’t know that, of course — and so, naturally, after the film, she suggested we go to see everyone, which meant pints in the pub, since that was where everyone was on a Friday night. lnstantly, I forgot my agreement.

We went to join the gang, just for one, or okay, if more than one, we had to stop drinking at midnight. We couldn’t stick to our drinking rules for the duration of making them, but we didn’t notice that. We made a pact to leave the bar at midnight, no matter what.

“Anyway, you don’t need to worry,” she said, conspiratorially en route to the Volunteer Tavern. “Because I’ve solved the problem of getting too drunk.”

“Really? How?”

“The trick is to drink halves.”

I nodded encouragingly, the soft part of my throat twerking at the mention of beer, and we walked from the cold, lamplit street into the warm, yeasty pub to wait for the bar man’s eye contact.

Youngish people sat at wooden tables, playing board games and laughing, checking their phones and swigging frothy pints.

“Two halves of Amstel, please,” I said, and the barman picked up two tiny thimbles of glass, leftover from what I could only assume was some kind of teddy bear’s picnic.

“Sorry, I mean a pint and a half!” I panic-shouted before I could stop myself.

The cold amber liquid ran up the glass, and I swallowed, reflexively, took a swig as soon as the barman handed the drinks to me.

“Drinking halves is daft,” I told my friend as we made our way to where our group sat, drinking pints and smoking in the beer garden. “You’ve drunk the whole thing by the time you get to your table and have to go straight back to the bar. A pint saves you a trip. And sometimes five pee too!”

She shrugged, not really listening, and I felt my last dregs of self-respect drain out the bottoms of my filthy Converse. Who was I saying this stuff for? Even I didn’t listen to me.

The lager was cold and fizzy and as it touched my tongue, I remembered that I didn’t like the taste. Strange since I’d been compelled, only seconds earlier, to buy a larger serving.

Still, I needn’t worry about that now. I needn’t worry about anything: I was drinking and all was well. I forgot my silly dream of sobriety, forgot my broader feelings of dissatisfaction, and my friend and I talked and laughed and shed secrets in our usual breathless, hurtling way. And then it was midnight and she finished her final half and hugged me goodbye — she had writing to do in the morning; a deal’s a deal! — put on her coat and headed home. I watched her walk out, then headed back to the bar to order another.

“Last night was wonderful,” she text the next morning. “Seeing you was so nourishing.”

It is beginning to dawn on me that my current network can’t provide the support I need to give up alcohol. They can’t solve this problem that lies within me because they don’t understand it.

I read books about abstinence (Blackout, Drinking: A Love Story, Lit) and pore over posts on websites (Hip Sobriety, Soberistas) about the same, and I feel so inspired, so excited and determined, until the next time, out of nowhere, a pint sounds like a good idea, and I decide to ‘just have one’ and wake with a hangover yet again. I make the same promise to myself: tonight I won’t drink, no matter what, and then I break it. Over and over and over.

Until I am so tired.

In my circles, alcohol is like water, life isn’t possible without it, and if that is wrong we didn’t want to be right. Popular culture agrees — drinking is fun! — as long as you drink responsibly, which is so easy and intuitive that only the party-pooping government offer any guidelines.

Booze solves your problems: loneliness, boredom, crap TV, aging, ugliness, death. It provides sex and adventure, increases beauty — not just yours, but everyone’s! — the world itself’s. It turns up the colours, adds a coat of hyper gloss to the matte finish of planet E.

Why would anyone give it up?

If I could only stop thinking it was a problem then the problem would vanish. Poof!

So why can’t I stop thinking it’s a problem?

Because I’m an alcoholic?

Three years sober, I’m still ambivalent.

The label is out-of-date, but since I started using it my life is strikingly on track.

Am I a ‘high-functioning alcoholic’? No. No one is. Too much of an oxymoron.

Three years sober, I regularly self-identify as an ‘alcoholic’ but when I do, it is acts as shorthand for this:

‘I have an infuriating brain-twist regarding alcohol which means I cannot remember its negative qualities at the same time as I have excellent, technicolour recall of its positive qualities; and because I hear your stories that describe the same twist, I would love your help in holding a realistic perspective on this substance which made my life painful and narrow, and yet which I often long for with a fervent and inexplicable thirst’.

Is the outdated label starting to make sense?

There is almost no evidence of how my drinking was destructive outside of my own psyche. Which is not the same as saying there is no evidence that my drinking was destructive.

My story has so little drama, and yet, weirdly, that’s why I’m compelled to share it. How many people keep drinking because they aren’t ‘bad enough’ to identify with the 12 steppers? How many keep drinking because their friends smile and tell them that they don’t have a problem?

Women, we need to stop gaslighting ourselves and learn from our experience.

There are so many tools and support networks who want to help: AA, Smart Recovery, Soberistas, Hip Sobriety, This Naked Mind, Recovery Elevator being just a few I’ve used along the way.

Most of the evidence of my drink problem came from the way my life changed after I quit. I wonder how your life would change if you did?

Sign up for more from me at beautifulhangover <3

[ohrosalinds]

katherine mcnamara. genderfluid. they/them.  ／  rosalind cox just pulled up blasting fly by hilary duff — that song is so them! you know, for a twenty-four year old singer & actor, i’ve heard they’re really -capricious, but that they make up for it by being so +gregarious. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say plaid shirts open with a white shirt underneath, thrift shop knick knacks, the smell of cinnamon, and childhood stardom. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble! ( vc: hilary duff, bridgit mendler & ana golja )

rosalind’s basically the same as they were the last time i played them, but i’ve edited a couple of things.  so here’s their new intro u know the drill like this to plot w them.  

rosalind’s 24, their birthday just passed at the beginning of the month.  

rosalind was born to laurel whittmore-cox on august fifth during a summer rainstorm.  rosalind’s father died months before their birth and they still to this day do not know much about him.  but they never minded.  their mom, and their maternal grandfather gus were more than enough.  

rosalind was “discovered” at the age of two.  they were at their mother’s office ( laurel’s a producer for movies & tv shows ) and it started a career for the redheaded baby.  mostly print ads for a while, a couple of tv shows and movies but nothing big.  that is until rosalind was nine years old and was cast as the titular role in disney’s lizzie mcguire.  and they dyed their hair blonde for the role. 

honestly, it was a dream.  rosalind’s mother was an executive producer and rosalind really loved playing lizzie.  it was her favorite thing.  she was excited to go to work every day.  her friends were great.  she loved her tv family.  and it was fun playing a role that really felt at home, as she was going through similar things as lizzie at the time of the show.  since rosalind was in middle school at the time when lizzie was airing.  

when rosalind was eleven years old ( and four months, not that that’s a needed detail ) they were going through this period of discovery.  figuring out who she wanted to be, as lizzie’s final season was filming.  they had just found music as an outlet and were working on writing and coming up with their own things, hoping to release something after lizzie ended.  

during this time rosalind read something and was watching a lot of television and something struck the blonde.  following research and time of discovery, rosalind found out about the term genderfluid.  and after reading about it and learning more.  it was like a lightbulb moment and they were like “this is it.  that’s me.”  and they decided to start using they/them pronouns because it felt right. 

rosalind told their family over dinner one night and while both laurel and gus were confused, they adjusted well.  it took laurel until rosalind was seventeen years old to finally not use “she/her” accidentally.  

but rosalind had this whole show riding on their shoulders and they just knew that this coming out was not going to be good.  people would talk and things would not end well for them, it could ruin the end of the series.  it was going to be a scandal, because it went against what the producers and execs wanted for their show’s star.  and, of course, lizzie was one of the number one shows on children’s programming right then too.  while everything was going on, still working on the final season, the problem was also that rosalind didn’t want to not use their pronouns because it’s who they are.  

so rosalind came out to the cast and the crew, to people whom they considered family.  it was a slow thing, not a big announcement, and people were mostly accepting.  by the end of the series filming, most of the people they worked with every day had adjusted to using the proper pronouns most of the time.   

rosalind thought they were finally free of the station and the pushy execs who only wanted their agenda pushed forward, other than working still with their record label for this music they had been creating.  but, as luck would have it, the producers and executives had gotten together to bring about a feature film for the show.  

and rosalind couldn’t say no, lizzie was still very much a part of who they were.  and getting to work with the people again ( even so soon after saying goodbye ) it was something they wanted to do.  

so after the small “break”, almost thirteen year old rosalind went off to italy to film this movie.  ( fact: they turned 13 while filming in italy ).

and while they were there with the cast and crew and people who loved and supported them, someone back home leaked their gender pronouns and caused a big stink.  

executives flew in when they were almost finished with filming and it was a big to do.  rosalind was scheduled to go on a tour after the film finished filming since their album was almost completed.  but the executives were nervous about what everything would be.  it was a lot of meetings and rosalind had to deal with the pressure of filming the movie and worrying about their own future and if the film they, and everyone else, worked so hard on would be released.  

the company did what they do best and decided that after the movie, rosalind should go on tour for their music right away.  so rosalind was rushed to a local studio to finish the final touches of the album, which was released before the film had finished.  

despite the immense pressure, rosalind was happy.  they were doing what they loved, writing music, acting, and singing.  

of course, going on a big tour meant rules and guidelines from the corporation.  a lot of them restricting what rosalind could say and talk about in interviews, which they had done before, but never to this same degree. now rosalind was completely restricted.  in fact, they had to read from a script and they had a personal handler from the company with them at all times. 

it didn’t help that they were touring for music on top of doing press for the lizzie film.  

it should have been the time of their life.  it really should have, but alas.  it was a time where rosalind was sleeping less and less every night and working on finding themself in the little spare time they had.  

it was building up a lot, taking a toll on the young teen.  

rosalind’s biggest personal problem with the press was that everyone who interviewed them was using she/her pronouns and completely ignoring the fact they’d even stated a preference for using they/them.  

it led to them having a bit of a …. MELTDOWN during an interview when they were asked a pretty terrible question.

footage went viral on tmz and mtv of rosalind pulling off their microphone in the middle of an interview, irate and yelling at who people later found out was their disney appointed handler,  “i’m sick of using the wrong pronouns for this bullshit! it’s not fair!”

the footage can still be found on multiple websites, and people tend to talk about it a lot still.  

the next thing they knew, the second half of the tour was cancelled, “creative differences” had been cited.  however, rosalind was still under contract with the record label, and even though they were basically blacklisted from working for quite some time, rosalind had to work on new music for a company that didn’t want them.  

rosalind released a second album soon after the end of the tour.  once their duties in the contract were finished and all obligations filled--rosalind left the company and went to “normal life”.  

the teen -- a redhead now, the blonde hair finally gone ( people called it shedding the disney baggage ) -- left los angeles to live with their grandpa gus outside of boston.  they maintained a job working at gus’ thrift/antique shop the little things.  and did their best to maintain a regular teenage existence.  which is hard when you spent your childhood on film.  

for a while, rosalind did a youtube channel in their later high school years.  sometimes they still post, but it’s sporadic if anything.  they used to do a lot of q&a videos.  they would often talk about working on music and talking about their gender identity and sexuality ( they’re pansexual ).  they wanted to have a voice for themselves, and doing something like that was the best way to do that. 

with everything, rosalind kept from saying anything outwardly bad about their old parent company.  people never understood why--when it was clear that they had been terribly unhappy and troubled at the old company.  

recently, rosalind has opened up about it.  they experienced a lot of wrongdoings from the company in their childhood, given the company’s outright display of their gender identity and how it didn’t fit with the image.  but rosalind still wished nothing but the best for the people whom they’d worked with.  there was nothing that the cast & crew had done wrong to them.  the people with whom they spent so many hours of their formative years were nothing but excellent and kind and hardworking people.  

they’re a people person, loving to be around other people.  but they’re also always a bit nervous about big crowds.  idk what it is.  one on one they’re amazing and chatty, but crowds make them nervous?  but stage stuff is wonderful? they can definitely hold themselves in a crowd or captivate a room.  

they’ve done a handful of made for television movies in the recent years.  recently they’ve released new music after a long period of nothing.  they did an extended play belong and a full length album then & now.  ( rosalind’s early music is canon hilary duff ie metamorphasis and hilary, which for rp purposes is called rosalind )  

rosalind is currently labelless.  they haven’t been with a parent label since everything at their old one blew up.  

they have a fear of being controlled by any company if they were to work for a specific label again, so they haven’t cared to look for one.  

maybe they’ll tour again in the future?? who knows.  

rosalind was recently cast to play DAPHNE BLAKE in an upcoming live action scooby doo television series.  

[tenjouu]

unorganized headcanons for a classical trained musician ikevam!MC

1. 

The moment Mozart reluctantly introduces himself at the dinner table your very first night at the mansion, you accidentally spill wine from your mouth into your own lap. 

(Did he just say his name is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? Does that mean Haydn’s here too? Beethoven? And if Napoleon's around, then every time period is fair game right? What about Chopin? Lizst? Paganini? Bach? Rachmaninoff?) 

You hurriedly grab a napkin to wipe your skirts. He’s absolutely disgusted. 

2. 

You already have a crush. Of course, his disastrous first impression of you has put a damper on some things.

Even if Mozart’s…personality could use some work, to you, his cold reception isn’t enough to deter you from harboring the ultimate infatuation…for his music. Sometimes, when Mozart leaves the piano room ajar to get coffee, you stare longingly at the piano from outside, wondering if he’d let you play it if you asked. (You know very well that most musicians are touchy about their instruments. And you two aren’t even acquaintances at this point.) 

Sebastian thinks you just want to be friends with Mozart. You don’t have to be friends with Mozart. You just want to play his songs!

3. 

After you’ve worked hard helping Sebastian around the house, the Count of Saint Germaine insists on giving you some kind of reward, to honor your labor. You miss playing…and the Count knows that you used to be a musician. The Count then says casually that he might have a few old rusty instruments in storage. When he says ’old rusty’, you discover he’s actually talking about a Stradivarius. When he tries to get you to take it, you nearly die on the spot.

4. 

You tune the instrument and get choked up thinking about how you’re holding an actual Stradivarius in your hands. Catgut strings require more frequent tuning, but the sound is so much more richer than the synthetic strings of your day and you’re absolutely in love. You jam out loudly in your room, going absolutely wild with Bach’s Ciaconna. 

5. 

Of course, the sound is so loud that people in the hallway can hear. This is therefore how Arthur finds out. And once Arthur finds out, so does everyone else in the mansion. Arthur tries to joke that you’re trying to give Mozart a run for his money. You have no such illusions; you know Mozart is more of a virtuoso than you ever will be. Still, now that there are two musicians out in the mansion, this means that a confrontation is inevitable. Or not really a confrontation, but one day, Sebastian asks you to deliver some rouge to Mozart. You go to the piano room, and when Mozart sees it’s you, he freezes up. It’s so awkward——but then he says, “You. Get your violin.”

You don’t think Mozart’s feeling threatened by your presence, because him, one of the greatest composers of all time, being contested by you? Laughable. But warily, you wonder why he’s asking, so you say, “Sure, but may I ask why…?”

“I want to hear you,” he says bluntly. When you look hesitant, because can you really play in front of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart——he takes your stalling for a refusal and points out, “You listen to me playing all the time.”

Well, yeah, you listen to him all the time. It’s because he’s Mozart. This is accidentally what comes out of your mouth too: “I like listening to you play,” you say without thinking. You’ve heard so many people play Mozart’s songs, but there’s something different about hearing the original artist. “Your music is beautiful.”

This is the first time you catch Mozart off guard. He schools his expression in an instant and says, “Don’t make me repeat myself,” so you hurry to grab your violin with some apprehension.

6. 

The second time you catch him off guard is when you decide to play his Concerto No. 3 in G major, K. 216. You expect him to feel free to stop you at any point, but then it comes to the section where every violinist does their own cadenza. Judging by the way he sucked in a breath, you have either impressed him or irrevocably offended him. When you finish, he looks astounded. And then his eyebrows knit together almost like he’s mad. You lower the violin awkwardly. 

“…Not bad,” he says, and leaves it at that. 

You’re pretty enthused though. You just got a not bad from the composer himself. Considering how nervous you were when you flubbed your cadenza and accidentally went into the parallel key on a major-turned-minor sixth and decided to roll with it, turned your whole improvisation minor, only to barely redeem yourself at the end by flipping back… if he thought it was not bad, then that would probably be the closest he’d ever get to liking it.

You beam at him. “Thank you,” you say genuinely, ecstatic, and to your surprise, you catch him off guard a third time.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Mozart says, sounding baffled and a little panicked. To cover up his wrong-footedness, he starts lecturing you instead. “Don’t attempt a double stop trill if you’re going to hesitate. Your up-bow stuttered on the string. And——”

You dip your head in acknowledgment, a little amazed. It’s just——you’re being so well-received right now that he’s even giving you advice. You never particularly had the desire to be a soloist——you just enjoyed the music and playing with everyone. And being at a virtuosic level wasn’t a requirement for that. You weren’t going to be playing any Paganini caprices after all.

“That’s all,” he says, finally, after he’s listed out everything that you needed to improve. “Dismissed.”

He’s dismissed you like a student. The both of you catch on to the behavior he’s defaulted to in self-defense, and you smile, strangely happy. He glares at you, so you decide not to impose anymore and leave him to his music again.

7. 

Arthur expresses some lament when Mozart starts making you play for him more often. So often, in fact, that you spend most of your free time in the piano room, playing his old pieces back to him.

(“I was the one who discovered you first,” Arthur complains when he catches you waiting at the piano room door. “Now Mo-kun’s keeping you all for himself.”

You have no idea how to respond to that. Arthur leans in close.

“Won’t you play for me some time?” Arthur asks with a wink.

The door opens right then. Mozart asks what you two are doing in front of someone else’s room. You explain you were waiting for Mozart to open the door. Arthur explains that Mozart can’t just hog you like this.)

8. 

Mozart refuses to play at dinner because (1) he doesn’t possess a violin and he says that rather than asking him to play yours, then you should just use it to practice, and (2) he would rather die before he wheels the piano out of the piano room. You refuse to play because if Mozart’s not playing, then you certainly won’t. But with some encouragement from Vincent, you play for him apres un reve, when you’re free from chores and Mozart’s busy. (It’s so weird since Faure would have been Vincent’s contemporary.)

9. 

One time, Mozart makes you really angry. It’s when he expresses his disappointment in the fact that you don’t want to be a virtuoso, even if you have the potential that he seems to see in you. 

When you try to explain that you lack that ambition and you just like playing music for fun (something that he has difficulty comprehending), he accuses you of enjoying music like a bystander. For Mozart, music has been his everything since birth. His means of survival, his reason for living, his reason for resurrection. Music supersedes all else. In your world, music meant something different. Kids who could afford it got lessons and cultivated their talent early on and went to conservatories and musical colleges. Kids who couldn’t joined their orchestras in school arts programs. Kids like you were stuck somewhere between mediocrity and excellence. Mozart lived by his music. You learned to live with music too, with gratitude, in a way that wasn’t painful.

Because you do get a little upset——since this is Mozart himself expressing his disappointment in you——you play everything but his music. It’s not to spite him, but because you can’t bring yourself to touch his music. Maybe it’s a little true. Maybe you don’t deserve to play it after all.

Music remains the best way to communicate to Mozart though, even more so than words. Your playing lets him realize very quickly that he’s upset you. And the way you play lets him know your true feelings——he knows too, that it isn’t out of spite, in the way your vibrato lingers with regret. So the next time he calls you to the music room, he hands you a score.

You want to refuse; you don’t even have your violin with you, but he shakes his head.

“Play it, or don’t,” he says, before you can say anything. “Do what you want.” It’s a symbolic gesture.

That’s probably the closest to a verbal apology you get, but when he tells you that you can sit down on the sofa (if you want), and when he plays a quick sonata, you know he’s saying sorry in his melody.

10. 

Although, he does say that he’ll do one thing as a token of reconciliation. This is a once and a life-time opportunity, so you ask him to play a duet with you. When he agrees, after some hesitation, you propose Handel-Halvorsen’s Passacaglia. Mozart doesn’t recognize the Halvorsen part, and that’s when you realize that Halvorsen was after Mozart’s time, even after the nineteenth century as well. Stumped, you decide to cancel the whole thing, but Mozart surprisingly insists.

“No, I’ve already agreed,” Mozart says, sounding annoyed. “It’s no matter. You seem to know the piece well. If you know your partner’s part, just play it for me.”

You’ve always wanted to hear Mozart on the violin, so you play the violin part for him. He just needs to hear it once, and then he’s got the entire thing down. You’re amazed. You hand the Stradivarius to him. He replays the part you played for him twenty minutes later, perfectly.

“Wait here,” you blurt out, and run for the Count’s room to ask him for a viola.

The Count has someone retrieve a viola immediately for you. It’s a Guarneri this time. You wonder how the Count could possibly have this many connections——but no matter; you hurry back to the piano room.

Mozart watches you tune the viola with interest, arching a brow.

“Are you any good with that?” he asks, curious. 

“I would like to think that I’m average,” you reply honestly, settling the viola into the crook of your neck. “Let’s start.”

11. 

You get distracted by Mozart’s playing because he improvises where he can. It’s so beautiful, in fact, that, unbeknownst to you, your own playing turns lovesick. By the end of your duet, the two of you are breathing hard. And Mozart’s face is flushed from exertion——but also, it’s just plain indignant.

“I wasn’t going to interrupt, so I didn’t say anything during our duet, but——what are you doing?” he demands.

You’re completely clueless. Mozart may be good at reading people through music, but you’ve never been able to read Mozart, period. You think he’s probably talking about your proficiency with the viola this time——but he’s talking about the way your notes are dipped in longing, the rawest form of love communicated to him in the way that he can best understand——and he sees just exactly how lost you are and shakes his head, deciding not to broach the subject. 

“Never mind,” he says, miffed. “Forget it.”

12. 

When he asks you all of the other instruments you can play, you reply honestly that you’re fine with all string instruments. You’ve never tried woodwind. Your musical career started at the piano. He’s begrudgingly impressed, but it shouldn’t be surprising. All musicians hone their craft, but all of them have breadth. He himself could probably play all of the instruments you’ve listed. But then he asks you to sing.

Horrified, for the first time, you tell him directly, “No.” (You hate your singing voice.)

13. 

Hearing other people perform his songs makes him crave the opera scene again. And you do encourage him because the people of nineteenth century Paris would be blessed to receive Mozart’s music. Therefore, he once again engages patrons under a new name: Wolfram Theophilius Pertl. It’s…a little obvious, personally, since you know him, and you’ve read his WIkipedia article! But then he gets to engage with other musicians. You’re worried about being left in the dust for better musical company, but you suppose it’s a little inevitable. You’re glad Mozart’s going back out into the world, but you are a little sad that you won’t be able to spend as much time with him, or that it’ll change what you have with him right now. In the interim, Arthur and the others do try to cheer you up a little, and keep you more company now that Mozart’s no longer requesting your free time. But this lasts for two weeks before he decides that he hates it again and leaves the conducting to others.

14. 

You ask him why, when he once again returns to secluding himself in the mansion. He says very candidly that he can’t stand the pomposity of musicians who mistakenly think they’re the soloist that will save this generation. He says that he’d rather deal with an obedient and aimless player like you.

Although you protest, “Obedient? And aimless…”

He smiles at you. It’s a mean smile, a teasing one, but a smile nonetheless. “It’s a compliment,” he says. “Receive it.”

15. 

You may not be good at reading people, but even you can tell when Mozart’s writing love songs. And he usually at least shares his new pieces with you, if not to ask you to play them. But these, he doesn’t let you see the sheet music, so you assume that you shouldn’t play it by ear either. And so they must be love songs…for someone else.

Your budding attraction toward Mozart (and not just his music, this time) makes this a very complicated and loaded realization for you. Because you like Mozart. Sebastian asks how you know that Mozart’s in love——so you explain that it’s through his music. It just sounds like he’s pining. Sebastian chooses to trust your judgment, since you seem to know Mozart best.

16. 

You’re pretty saddened by this, actually. For all you know, it could be that one soprano whom he specifically requested to be the primadonna in his new work after watching her perform the Queen of the Night aria (the two of you went together, and it was pretty good; it was also funny watching Mozart’s face turn pained each time the cellist went off). She was beautiful. The epitome of nineteenth century French beauty. The two of you had to dress nicely to enter the opera house, but you still felt rather plain in comparison when you saw her bright costume. Mozart was appraising. So you play the saddest songs you know because you know the emotion in them very well. Despair——

17. 

Mozart, for some reason, is absolutely infuriated by this. 

He demands to know why you’re playing songs of unrequited love. Adagio, of all songs. You’re repurposing Ciaconna for the entirely wrong reasons! It’s a rhetorical question, but he asks you, ‘You’re playing other people’s songs again. Who are you playing these songs for?’ You want to ask the same question. Who are those love songs for? But does Mozart even think of you in such a way that would warrant you asking? Would he understand why you want to know? Does he even consider you a possibility?

“Your silence in four-four time is turning into demisemiquavers rests,” Mozart notes.

“Because I’m anxious,” you reply. “I like you, Mozart.”

18. 

Farewell, your dignity. You toss your instrument to him, and while he’s caught off-guard, fumbling to catch it, you make a run for the door.

19. 

“You——hey!” Mozart says after you. “I already know that.”

You stop short of yanking the door open and turn around, eyes wide. “What?”

Of course he would know. But then——

“Then why didn’t you know,” you say, voice trembling, “that those songs were for you?”

“I knew,” Mozart says, exasperated. “Which is why it doesn’t make sense why you would play them. You really are an idiot. It’s not unrequited.”

“Wha——but the bella,” you blurt. “Your love songs.”

“What? What bella?”

“Never mind,” you say with a cough. It’s you. Those love songs were for you?

“You knew they were love songs, but you couldn’t tell who they were for,” Mozart says, reproachful.

Maybe Mozart was broadcasting his attraction to you this entire time through his music. But with a language that you’re only barely conversational in, he could be as obvious as day and it would still be subtlety at best through your eyes. And you’re not good with subtlety. 

“Because,” you mumble. “Why would it be me?”

“And why wouldn’t it be?” he demands. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off before you can speak. “No. Never mind. Knowing you, you’ll actually answer with your ridiculous thoughts.” 

[megers67]

Saisei Academy Verse: Saitou Hibiki

I’m re-making this post since it’s not showing up in the tags. I suspect it’s because I linked my fic which is bullshit, but I want others interested in this little OC grouping to find it so I de-linked it. If you want to find it, I’ve linked my AO3 to my blog or you can just ask me!

I'm finding it increasing difficult to refer to this as an AU version of Hibiki since, while I came up with it second, it's the only verse I've actually written about so far. But now that @miracide has created the wonderful school, Saisei Academy, I've decided that this version of Hibiki would end up there. My story, Ascent, is an origin story for her. So uh... I guess this will inevitably contain spoilers. Take that as you will.

For that reason and for length, I will put her bio under the Keep Reading. Also, I based the formatting after one of the bios she made for one of her own OCs, though I added my own sections.

Hibiki Saitou

Age: 16

Status: 2nd Year Student, General Studies

Basic personality: Deeply cares for others and tends to put them ahead of herself to a fault, quiet, usually only speaks when she has something to say, good listener but bad at communicating her own needs, tends to mother people, over-prepared, anxious and paranoid, only truly comfortable when doing something she knows she’s good at (her preferred school subjects, first aid, cooking) so she is most likely to speak up during these times (providing answers in the school subjects, assertive during first aid, opening up while cooking) though it’s not a guarantee

Basic appearance: On the shorter side of average, thin (due to recent months), long dusty-pink hair that she usually keeps up in a tight bun, dark eyes, covered in scars including prominent one at the corner of her mouth and a crooked nose from when an injury there failed to heal properly, she hides her scars as much as she can (basic foundation on her face, tights/stockings, and sleeves when she’s allowed to, even when it’s hot) because she doesn’t want people to ask her about them

Likes: English language media (especially music), cooking, biology, first aid

Dislikes: Being touched, passive aggression, things being put on higher shelves out of her reach

Favorite food: Hot chocolate

Best school subjects: Biology, English (nearly fluent since her father was)

Worst school subjects: PE, arts

Random fact: She tends to sing while she does chores when she thinks nobody is around (her skill is only average). She gets super embarrassed by it if someone catches her doing it. But because she keeps forgetting that she lives with other people, this happens relatively often.

----------

Quirk: Injury exchange

- With skin-to-skin contact, she can exchange any active physical damage between herself and the person she is touching.

- Injuries transfer between analogous body parts so a broken left arm causes a break in the same place in the same way on the other person’s left arm. If one gets an injury in a place that is otherwise uninjured, the state of non-injury is given in the exchange. So if Person A has a broken left arm and Hibiki is uninjured there, she takes the broken arm while it is healed in Person A.

- By default, it switches all injuries across the entire body, but with concentration, she can focus it to a specific area. This means she can theoretically heal others while stockpiling a dangerous amount of injuries onto herself.

- The quirk activates automatically and she has to specifically cancel it, so she is dangerous to touch while unconscious (since generally injuries are what cause one to become unconscious).

- Her most common use of her quirk is where she can sense any and all injuries of the other person, but deactivates her quirk before the exchange is made. This allows her to accurately access someone injured without advanced scanning equipment or putting herself in harm's way.

- Still-present causes of injuries are not affected, only the active damage to the body. A stabbing would need to have the knife removed first. Otherwise it will completely heal around the knife in the victim and leave a disconnected knife-shaped flesh in her own wound in the exchange as that could not be exchanged. Similarly, damage from an illness or a poison can be exchanged, but the original victim would simply acquire that damage again. The only advantage of proceeding with the exchange despite this is it gives the chance to “restart the clock” once that may buy time.

----------

Background:

Unlike many students at Saisei Academy, she came into the program with excellent quirk control. She mainly attends the school for psychological support and reform due to her criminal activity. Since she has an otherwise clean record and her crimes were nonviolent in nature, she avoided jail time. This, plus her good academic record and other extenuating circumstances, saw her admission to Saisei Academy. However, as she IS a criminal, she is liable to have more restrictions than the average student (I just don’t know what restrictions Miracide would have for this kind of situation).

Her home life has not been great. Hibiki's mother died shortly after her quirk manifested because a villain attack left the toddler gravely injured. When her mother naturally came to her aid, the injuries transferred to her and help didn't come until it was too late. Hibiki's father, in his grief, always blamed her for her mother's death, often taking his frustration out on her and using Hibiki's quirk to indirectly aid in his hero work.

He was a local pro-hero named Noci whose quirk allowed him to store any pain he's sustained in the past 24 hours and give it to someone else. This allowed him to incapacitate villains without causing actual damage to them. The potential for his quirk to be used for torture made him a controversial hero so he never became incredibly popular outside of his home town. For his hero work, he would often allow himself to become injured so he could store the pain, but later force Hibiki to take on the actual injuries herself so that he wasn't incapable of actual fighting. She'd attempted to go to the authorities about this, but his connections with local law enforcement prevented the case from being pursued seriously. This long-term abuse and the refusal of its acknowledgment made Hibiki incredibly skeptical and disillusioned towards the hero system and law enforcement as a whole.

Hibiki was left to her own devices for much of the day, but was not allowed to interact much with her peers outside of school. She took on many of the domestic responsibilities of her house at a young age as a result. She disliked most of them, but became very efficient in doing them, a skill she carries to this day. Hibiki does like cooking, however.

Her only true friend in school was Tanaka Rin. Rin was one of the only students who didn't treat Hibiki any differently despite her scars and frankly was the only reason Hibiki has any real social skills at all. The two girls became even closer when an accident permanently blinded Rin and Hibiki helped her devise a way for Rin to use her temperature quirk as a form of thermal imaging.

The two however were separated when Rin chose to pursue a career as a pro-hero and succeeded in getting into the hero program at the famed UA. Hibiki applied to a more normal high school on the area in order to be near her and in the process ran away from home. However, she became too embarrassed to let Rin see her as she was since she had nothing to her name after becoming a runaway. This put her in a very dark place.

A fateful encounter with a young criminal who nearly died since he didn't want to be arrested had he gone to a hospital led her to create The Bunker. The Bunker was an off-the-grid medical facility housed in an abandoned bunker that had been built when quirks first began to emerge, but had long since been forgotten. The 6-bed facility allowed her to help those who, like her, had been ignored but still needed help. With the help of a disgraced nurse who had been fired from the local hospital for taking pain killers while on the job, she ran the facility for 6 months before a raid brought it to its end.

While the raid meant Hibiki now had a criminal record (though the charges were less than you'd expect due to the care she took to remain as close to technically legal as possible), it also finally exposed her father's abuse to the world. He went on the run before he could be arrested and remains at large. As she now doesn’t technically have parents or legal guardians, she is a ward of the state until further notice.

----------

The main goals for Hibiki's reform are to:

- Regain trust in authority. While she doesn't necessarily act out, she does a worrying amount of hopeless/mindless compliance.

- Learn it is okay to put her own health first. She went through much of her life thinking it's her place in life to sacrifice herself for the betterment of others and that prioritizing herself was selfish.

- Figure out what she wants to do with her life. Due to the above, Hibiki has resigned herself to believing she will die young and as such has difficulty thinking in the long-term. She's never thought much about her future because she never thought she had one.

[josephvaldez6-blog]

Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't?

You people really think car insurance pays for anything? I recommend you to visit this internet site where one can compare rates from the best companies: http://insuretips.xyz Bad Faith Auto-Insurance? Can I retain an attorney for this?, I acquired an insurance policy online a few months previously within the first day or two that i had this insurance I had a tornado and broken my vehicle (small) with hail damaged I posted out a claim, appraiser was sent they covered losing sent a check tome, today i go on it to the bodyshop and attempt to contain it set nevertheless they desire a product, they contact insurance co. but insurance co, makes several reasons over this they state I dont have full coverage which I do, plus it was verfied together that I really do, the following few weeks complete then I finally get a phone from the manager in the insurance carrier declaring that they mistakenly delivered me out a check because I made a false claim document, they stated that they are able to tell by my photos before policy was obtained that vehicle had broken (which can be a justification of questioning complement) and stated the the insurer ignored everything point here is that insurance co, terminated my plan by expressing underwriting concerns, thus today Im without insurance coverage, the boss also mentioned she documented this for the tx state but stated she could not put a stop fee on the check and that I could still use it to repair the car or cashout the check... I am at all this was handelled definitely dissapointed, about obtaining a lawyer Im thinking, I currently mentioned and this matter together with the Insurance company and Im basicly advised that I lied concerning the claim plus they finish my phone... Should I wait to obtain a lawyer or must I just get one and go from there? In my opinion this really is bad faith insurance plan, What can I do? I am talking about I still possess the check it is not cashed out, I cant really do much with this check everybody expenses an arm along with a calf, could they report insurance scam costs and when so though I understand used to do everything right can I get an attorney?" What the finest auto-insurance offer is offered by insurance carrier? What the best automobile insurance quotation is offered by insurance carrier? What's an excellent insurance for younger people getting started? Iam nearly to show twenty years old and Iam having tooth issues Iam seeking an insurance that relates to pregnancy and if possible and dental disaster. My fiance has to put me about it although insurance it'd charge $300 monthly that ca n't be afforded by us. Please let me know if u have any in mind. Thanks Howmuch is the car insurance? I really donot need to sound individual but I'm wondering what everybody pays in car insurance. I occur to live in Mich which has the very best vehicle insurances costs in the united kingdom. I wondered how much folks are paying around the world and am about to transfer soon. Don't feel a should offer the exact number to me, there is a variety not coarse. Furthermore, please inform me the car type because I am aware that matters. Again with car type you do not need to inform the automobile. Luxury, 2-door low rider instance in case you push a 911 Porsche you might declare. Any other information would be greatly valued, cheers!" Seeking Superior Inexpensive Health Insurance? https://necosadeacteau.wordpress.com/2017/05/17/how-much-would-a-1986-mustang-convertible-insurance-be/ per year old girl in school, I recently found out I was pregnant. I do want to find inexpensive medical insurance insurance for my unborn child and me personally. I dont desire to count on government guidance. I was jus wondering what should I be trying to find in perhaps, and medical insurance some tips in policies or insurance companies! Thanx a complete bundles!" "Relative general insurance costs for various kinds of vehicles (vehicle, crossover, automobile)?" I'm have never held a vehicle and a driver that is newer. I am considering buying one and I want to learn about the insurance expenses that are normal. I've been informed that SUVs have higher insurance expenses. I'm considering a 03 Ford Escape, is the fact that considered a Truck? Also, how much will be the average cost variation (of insurance!) if I was evaluating it into a vehicle such as April Pontiac grand-am? A broad remedy is all I am asking, although I know this could become a dumb question and possibly varies a whole lot for!" "In case you go on to a greater-cost motor insurance condition, when does the raise take effect?" Could I have to pay for the moment I informed the organization of the handle change if I go on to a brand new declare that has greater minimums and greater car theft, which I envision would certainly increase my premium? Or, might the raise just be seen on my next statement (a few months later)? If it matters, this is for moving to Washington from Illinois. Cheers!" Transforming insurance from a cbt to some whole bike license? I getting 17 this month and am presently 16. I already have my 125cc motorbike in my own garage, I wish to guarantee it on my birthday over a CBT but wish to go my bike check so I acquire surge of my L plates and may ride-on motorways. Our question is easily'm already-insured using a CBT, what will it charge me to alter to change into a full motorbike licence. Will me charge anymore?" Exactly what the average of the male 25-year old might purchase auto insurance? I considering getting my own personal vehicle and purchasing a dodge cost 2013 insurances i need to know around how much I'd spend I am been operating for 6 decades already. but now I do want to get my own auto insurance Would my insurance nonetheless buy this? The other day our car got struck and I got an appraisal for this. It's going to charge $500 and it's just a long damage. Easily tried touching it up with whatever and vehicle paint and it comes out looking like may the body shop still do it's work or could I've to pay for it since I have messed with it?" Auto insurance???? I'm looking for cheap car insurance... Do you know who had the lowest priced? I am a 21 year the auto as well as old girl is actually a 1998 Oldsmobile cutlass I let my car insurance lapse...will i be in trouble? My car insurance is not renewed at this time. Whenever you join insurance i know they often consult its been not renewed. Once I say yes, which i ll tell the facts cuz they ll find out anyways, what will they are doing? Can I be in trouble?" That will be the renters insurance provider that is best within the cincy area? Which will be the renters insurance carrier in the area that is cincy? How much does a sixteen-year old in BC buy car insurance? The vehicle can be an 87 porsche 944. My grades are not less than unacceptable. i am expecting high amounts. I make $9.50 an hour working twenty hours a week. Likewise, is it even possible for me to cover the insurance along with gas and tax? (car takes around. 20 mpg) I-drive about 30 miles a week." Who offers the cheapest bike insurance? Who offers the cheapest motorcycle insurance? Expense to ensure a scion tc? 20 year old guy, 1 citation in last three years (july. 2011). 2-door, 2005-2006 automatic transmission. What might insurance be on a single of those? Cheers!!! :)" MOTOR INSURANCE? how much will be the car insurance for eg. Opel corsa as it could be my first vehicle if you are a lady under 25 im really 18" Have you ever gotten an automobile insurance quote online? how easy was it to get the estimate? was the method confusing in any way? Did the site explain what protections you needed and why they were desired by you? Does everyone knows of a Health Insurance in California? HMO, PPO or whatever... I must know asap. The job insurance is horrible!" How much can I expect to buy car insurance at 37 years? I've a clean record.? Going out from the city, and that I am gonna must buy a vehicle for my living that is Suburban!!" 18 year old car insurance support!!!!!? I'm 18 yrs old, past my examination in may (2011) and I cant find any affordable car insurance!! :(in Spite Of my parents as main owners the cheapest im finding is just about 7000... Its silly Has anyone observed ways or any inexpensive auto insurance businesses of lowering premiums dramatically?" In case you promote your vehicle / do you need to retain any insurance for the DL? If you go on to NYC and provide your vehicle / parking too expensive. Do you need to maintain some type of motor insurance for your certificate that is driving? Once you travel, you may occaisionally have to drive another person or may hire a rental car?" "How do I get insurance on a car that's being acquired for me and my name isn't around the subject?" My daughter is currently buying the car on her credit, therefore she can be paid by me. As it pertains for the insurance on the vehicle, how do you also have her as an occasionally driver to the plan and have the insurance in my own name? Can be performed" "In case a 16 year old gets an older 2-door car will Our car insurance increase?" If a 16-year gets an older 2 door auto will Our car insurance increase?" Whereis an excellent spot to proceed if have cavaties no dental insurance right now? I'm taking a session off (enrolled in college but not presently attending) and i graduated h.s. And my dental insurance take off my moms program. They found 2 cavities plus they I would like to obtain them taken of before i disappear completely to school care can there be anywhere i may choose cheaper or that might accet options that were paymnet in a partial -inexpensive price?" Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't? You people really think car insurance pays for anything? I recommend you to visit this internet site where one can compare rates from the best companies: http://insuretips.xyz Is there any Auto Insurance corporation that doesn't cost attention? I have observed in the event that you opt to spend your car insurance regular that attention charges, but will there be any insurance company that doesn't." Employing motor insurance comparison sites? Hello, I am 18 years-old and using my instructions. I have been trying to get a quotation on a number of automobiles that I'd like to purchase for when i complete or to get provisionaly insured on, I got a as having a full driving permit on a 2000 3door 1.2L for fiesta, I packed in all the related info no modification, employing for societal and commute to one office etcetc and its own arises together with the cheapest being around 7000, this cannot possibly be correct can it? Ive tested on the details and employed various automobiles along with the same value often comes up." Vehicle and house insurance together...? I will shut over a property in two weeks and bought a new car. I am looking in NJ for vehicle and property insurance. Where can I get the best deal for auto insurance? , I called - got an offer that was significant. However they dont have household insurance in the area. All State presented me a due to their jewelry one and said they'll give me the other plans in a minute - put me onhold for 25 mins and that I hungup (again they dont have property insurance within my place). Anyone has any knowledge with TWG insurance? Our vehicle dealer offered their info to me. I looked for opinions - They Are TX centered and also have both vehicle and property...uncertain nothing when it is good for NJ. This is my automobile and house. On which to consider esp for my vehicle any guide. What're the grey regions that you can be conned by them? What're the most crucial points to find? Any suggestions in NJ on strategies that are superior?" Just how much would insurance expense to get a 17 year old driver with 2001 audi a6 in an important location? Around howmuch might insurance price to get a 17 year old boy in a downtown city. Auto is really a 2001 audi a6, with a clean report." Would it not be cheaper for me get my own personal insurance policy or to be on my parents insurance? I go to the 19th of November for my certificate and am 16, im paying for it myself. Our parents have geico, i named Allstate nowadays to obtain a quotes and they explained about 210, please support!(:" Can anybody offer any perception on approximate costs for automobiles car insurance that is / to me? In safety of my ignorance, I'm merely sixteen, and Iam looking to figure out how long it will take to save up to get a vehicle/driving school/ insurance that stuff. And since I actually donot already have a vehicle nevertheless, I can not get yourself a quotation on insurance. Furthermore, I recognize that every scenario differs, rates change, and it's hard proper to give me an absolute response, but I am asking for is approximation. Issues I have to understand: - Sixteen registered, about just how much each month for insurance? -In your opinion, what is the best/ insurance provider that is cheapest? -About how much is the cheapest that I'd be capable of purchase a used car for, accepting I'm not picky at all about anything besides it being one which really works, where I won't have to be worried about all kinds of restoration charges? All I'm seeking is approximation, although I recognize as no-one can supply mean established reply this really is type of ridiculous. (: Thanks in advance. Basically've overlooked any charges that are included with insurance or car buying, feel free to educate me? THANKS TONS." Automobile Insurance.? In the event the automobile continues to be removed the road eg, should car insurance be paid. S.O.R.N was announced. I declare it willnot but my neighbour explained it should be (he is a man!)" I would like full-coverage for motor insurance? I need full-coverage if i go to my insurance tommorow to obtain my new-car and put full coverage on my vehicle will i be able to grab the car precisely the same time? from there will help, ps i live-in boston sooo folks" Need help on auto insurance for young driver? Hello! I've been struggling to get a good quotation for car insurance for a while today. I tried all-the big name comparison sites and every one is estimating me 4k (monthly payments). I opted for 3rd party and theft, i am 22 years and my postcode starts with sl1 (slough) and that I got cross plus and had my permit (guide) since march 2011. I got my vehicle presently its a Peugeot 206 petroleum manual 1999 3doors. For those who have time you can test together with the above facts for yourself the estimate is freaking a lot of. Is that this exactly how it is or am i doing something very wrong? When you can point me for the right route that could be awesome!!" Soaring insurance???????????? do u need insurance if you should be flying in a personal jet rental (such as a private jet) Where could I find cheap motorcycle insurance? I am trying to find insurance that was inexpensive and bought a Honda CBR600F4I. Any help would be appreciated. Anyone know there and about AAA motor insurance uninsured motorist policy in California? Our daughters broker likewise mine now suggests she has to spend her deductible,. I used to get growers once the same thing occurred if you ask me (an uninsured unlicensed driver hit her).And my deductible was waived. It doesnt say anything a few deductible, after I looked over the plan. Any help would be appreciated" Why does auto insurance cost? my insurance cost me like $250 a month. That is more than my car payment. What might the rates expense for government health insurance? Simply how much will people have to pay for to become included in Obama treatment? Exist quotes? Do lots of people feel it'll be free? It's superior before you purchase them to know the price tag on factors." "Age that is does really make a difference when finding health insurance thru employer, could be the cost diverse. .?" My mother is in her 60is she dropped protection thru her company because she would spend $200 per paycheck, gets paid biweekly. She explained the rep from your insurance requires more wellness consideration and informed her because she is old, she'd pay more than her younger colleagues, visits medicine etc. is the fact that legitimate?? Her company does the cleansing for some hospitals, offices. I dont believe its a large business perhaps 300-500 employees. I work with a big corporation in sales we've 200 people in our building, the organization is in most condition while in the u.s. with several offices in each condition so we are thousands of people for that company. Your medical insurance expense is the same irrespective of age. We have 3 options to pick from, but all of US spend exactly the same quantity regardless of age also it cost anywhere from $15-25 per check. Could anyone offer some info on this matter cheers to me. If that matters we're in california. Thanks." Average cost for bike/scooter insurance? Im considering obtaining a scooter and only tried to estimate my monthly payments , including insurance. Could you please provide me specific numbers how much I ought to expect to pay or an estimation? And is it usually cheaper using a smaller bicycle? cheapest using a scooter? Im 25, no accidents or tickets whatsoever, and am looking for something between 250 and 80 ccs... Cheers!!!!!!!" "Auto insurance, accident related question.?" I've been recently associated with a car collision where a redlight went and totaled my car. I have witnesses, police reports in me got a redlight solution along with the individual that failed. My throat has greatly been drained in the accident also lowerback and right knee. I'm going through a personal injury law firm and I was suggested by them to your therapy clinic. The money this treatment clinic will receive is going to be from my insurance carrier but will I have to pay while in the fol low ing decades within my coverage for it. Or may my record be clear and my insurance costs will not increase? Cheers." Im 18-year old guy searching for inexpensive car insurance in UK? Got the vehicle and license. When I could make no claims for the firstyear in any circumstance, 1.2 ford fiesta 2004 price may be the only component for me personally. The top sofar is aviva. I've been reccomended many insurers who have provided me ridicolous The pass plus kinds and that I am requesting yot to share with me to me whos accommodate! Cheers" Introducing a Blackbox to my Car Insurance? I'm a fresh, young driver, and in order to reduce the price of auto insurance I'm considering the Black-Box (I am conscious of the advantages and disadvantages). Nevertheless, when locating a...display more" Auto insurance charge... roughly? I'm thinking about obtaining my dads 1971 Plymouth duster as my vehicle after Iam 16, what could the annual expense be and 15?" Simply how much do insurance costs fall after one year for youthful individuals? I am a 17 year old guy and spending 125 a month when you would ever guess its a large attack to my bank account. May my charges fall in the next year of course if so by how much although im on my moms policy?" Miguel's insurance provider repair costs 80% of value. Continual $8000 worth of injury what was importance of car.? The insurance carrier repair of Miguel prices 80% of-value. Experienced $8000 worth of damage what was price of car.? Pupil health insurance...please help? Since becoming independent, so, I am searching for my first healthinsurance. What's an acceptable sum for the value per office visit as well as the deductible premiums? I truly don't know...cheers for any advice. i'm the full time student btw and i'm 19 female" Medical Insurance for 20 yr old in NJ.? I reside in New Jersey. I am 20. I havent since i was about 15 had health insurance, and I stay with a friendis household since I've no parents. Is there anyhow I will get medicaid or any type of inexpensive insurance? I study that Medicaid is just open to handicapped, seniors, and folks with children. Do i have another choices if thats accurate? (My mom had medicaid and that I was on her behalf policy before she died). Likewise, health is offered by im in college full time, although not in a college, hence the faculty doesnt. Any opinons/info is valued." Insurance for 16 year old? I switch 16 and acquire my permit in June(I'm a man). I'm going right through People on my father's strategy that has 5 cars onto it previously, and getting a 2003 Toyota Rav4. Simply how much will impact and responsibility charge for me personally?" Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't? You people really think car insurance pays for anything? I recommend you to visit this internet site where one can compare rates from the best companies: http://insuretips.xyz