#while simultaneously not having to engage and interact and talk with people. the dream. the actual dream

[12thbiologist]

i think about how the biologist wants to be able to "appear sociable but still exist apart" every single day. every moment. its burned into my skull basically. its such a profound and relatable sentiment that only makes sense if you have lived that. its legendary. me too biologist. me too.

[jump-guy]

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[shinraelectricpowercom]

fun that one of my Symptoms is “intense and Absolute certainty of my own insanity” like please we have DEPRESSION, brain, nothing else, get it TOGETHER

[briarruler]

Fanfic Outline: the Sun Illuminates the Moon

Summery: In which a Prince and a Princess grow up dreaming of each other and this changes the world. If the changes are for the better or the worse, well, they could not tell you…but the alliance of the Fire Nation and Northern Water Tribe is enough to change the fate of their world.

Zuko and Yue grow up dreaming of each other. Both stop telling people about their dreams very young, before anyone thinks twice about it, and so it is a secret they share.

Zuko is five years old the first time he really thinks about what it means if Yue is real, if she is flesh and blood and the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. He sets his relentless determination on learning about how the Fire Nation interacts with the other countries, how they treat Benders of the other Nations and how they treat Fire Nation Benders of other Elements. Then he thinks about what he has learnt and what he should do and he’s six when he talks to Yue about it. Or Zuko hears about Waterbending Healers from Yue and immediately goes to ask his Cousin about why the Fire Nation doesn’t have Water-Healers. His Cousin decides he has a good point, escalates it to his Uncle, who realizes something is up about Zuko’s ‘Imaginary friend’ talks to the Fire Sages and then Fire Lord Azulon gets involved.

Zuko is betrothed to Yue. He’s engaged to her from a reasonably young age, once adults actually figure out about the connection. The Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe enter into negotiations and the future Marriage of Prince Zuko to Princess Yue is the representation of the Alliance between the two Countries.

Depending on exactly when the negotiations of betrothal alliance start Katara’s mother might never die, as the Waterbending raids stop.

The two children semi-regularly rotate between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe so Yue can learn about the Fire Nation while also staying connected to her people and Zuko retains his loyalty to the Fire Nation while also learning about the people he will one day rule over.

Lu Ten never dies, Iroh never turns against the Fire Nation, Azulon isn’t assassinated and Ozai never becomes Fire Lord.

Zuko is never Banished or Scarred and actually has something of a relationship with his grandfather.

Aang never wakes from the iceberg, the Avatar remains gone.

When Zuko comes of age, with Yue as his wife, he takes over rule of the Northern Water Tribe.

The Fire Nation wins the War and control of the World but the benders of the other elements are allowed to exist and are integrated into the Fire Nation as valued citizens.

Fifty Years Later the Avatar States drops and minutes after that Aang’s heart stops beating as the cold and lack of air get to him. Simultaneously to the Air Avatar’s heart stopping, on the other side of the world Zuko and Yue welcome a grandchild into the world.

I posted the Prologue a couple of years back but never got any further.

[cancerjupiter]

astrology notes: moon’s origins edition (pt. 1)

moon in aries

not an easy position for the moon. one of the most likely moon placement to have counter-dependent tendencies, denying own needs for closeness and intimacy while attempting to be emotionally self-sufficient. when deep feelings and needs emerge (and you know they will), they unconsciously fend them off with anger, impulsive tendencies and, sometimes, sexual expressions.

often an aries-dominant parent was quick to respond to the aries moon wants and desires, allowing them freedom to pursue their interests. such parent encouraged the kid’s independent nature, possibly because they were themselves independent or self-absorbed and didn’t want to assume responsibility for the aries moon’s welfare. they might have often said “be tough” or “get over it” to the child, forcing the aries moon to defend against closeness and the expression of more vulnerable feelings. the parent may have encouraged individuality while simultaneously failing to affirm and support who their child really was. sometimes, however, an aries moon shows a submissive parent who catered to their whims and impulses, but never met their actual needs, or helped them develop a frustration tolerance one needs to mature and adapt properly.

so, one of their tasks in this lifetime is to learn to differentiate impulses from deeper needs, and to know what they really want beyond momentary satisfactions. this involves allowing themselves to come to terms with their own dependence as human beings without losing basic independence. they also shouldn’t continually look for excitement and stimulation to experience vitality and aliveness. you are alive right now. 

moon in taurus

taurus moon needs a solid base of self-esteem and internal security to gain confidence in themselves and their capacity to earn what they need and experience emotional and physical warmth, to know the pleasures and pains of living within their bodies and to maintain contact with earth (mother-nature’s-son.mp3). when their essential taurean needs aren’t met, they’re likely to overcompensate by compulsively clinging to other people, food, money and other external resources of satisfaction. they may become indolent, greedy, over materialistic and bound by their insistence upon security to a routine, risk-free and ultimately boring existence.

a taurus-dominant parent figure likely influenced their security patterns. positively, they may have been earthy and well-grounded; able to provide the warmth, stability, and comfort a child needs; and to help the taurus moon gain confidence functioning in the physical world. negatively, the parent might have attempted to chain the child to a predominantly physical level of existence. taurus moon might’ve been overindulged rather than deprived; provided with too much food, money or other comforts without ever having to ask, so they naturally expect to be provided for; or they may have been dominated by a possessive parent and learned to resist intrusion by playing dumb or turning to possessive and clinging behavior themselves.

taurus moon might repeatedly give themselves messages about their lack of value or competence; about holding on rather than letting go; about the necessity to earn more money and maintaining their job security; or about the joy that comes with quick online purchases and other physical pleasures that soothe them. they may coddle themselves into too easy a lifestyle or defend against their own needs by being rigidly self-sufficient. to successfully reparent their taurean inner child, they need to reassess such internal messages and develop new ones which: a) build their self-confidence and internal security; b) encourage them to experience and satisfy the deepest bodily needs rather than become stuck in patterns of laziness and immediate physical or material gratification; c) allow them to relax and surrender, so they might let go of possessiveness or compulsive self-sufficiency and experience their wonderful capacity to give and receive warmth and devotion

moon in gemini

gemini moons need to communicate verbally, to interact with different people, to satisfy their curiosity, to develop basic skills, and to be engaged by a stimulating environment. their deepest needs relate to experiencing and expressing their feelings in a relationship, and to have a network of people and activities which truly nourish them rather than just pique their interest. they also enjoy feeding their hunger for knowledge and developing their skills as thinkers and communicators. when these needs aren’t met, they may lose themselves in compulsive gemini behaviors: talking incessantly and superficially without making actual contact; scattering their energy widely, going from lover to lover and distraction to distraction, with no fulfillment.

negatively, a gemini moon suggests the individual experienced one or both parents as inconstant or changeable, as too rational and prone to intellectualize rather than directly express feeling. such parent was also high-strung, nervous, and with a scattered energy. positively, this parent encouraged and supported the child’s verbal and intellectual abilities and provided them with challenge and stimulation.

if their parent didn’t provide the nurturance a child needs, the gemini moon internalized messages which incline them to deny or explain away their feelings, and to remain open to too many outside influences at the expense of making commitments or developing an area of expertise. feeling insecure in their own bodies and emotions, they may have exercised their mental abilities to such a degree that they became adept at rationalization and prone to use words or superficial connections to defend against their needs for actual contact, intimacy and communication. a gemini moon’s task is to reconnect with their feelings and bodies in a way that they can think, communicate, and structure their lives to make mental activities and relationships truly nourishing.

moon in cancer

it’s particularly important for cancer moons to come to terms with their needs since cancer = moon. your basic well-being depends on it. if you were either deprived or over-indulged as a child, you may have become excessively attached to food, home or nurturing figures. when you’re in touch with your needs and feelings, you’re inclined to: a) eat or seek oral gratification (sex, smoking, chewing); b) expect others to cater to you; c) cry nonstop, either in self-pity or to make others pay attention to you; d) cling to people or possessions and withdraw from the real world. an alternative pattern is to see vicarious satisfaction through nurturing others. you may become The Child or The Mom Friend, but true satisfaction won’t come by infantilizing others instead of respecting their integrity and independence. if there are powerful squares or oppositions to the moon, you may have powerful defenses against both the need to nurture or be nurtured, which results in psychological and physical problems (stomach, uterus or breasts) that force you to take care of yourself fully.

a cancer moon suggests one or both parental figures were protective, maternal and empathic. however, if the moon is afflicted, the parent may have unconsciously been influenced by their own unmet needs and encouraged the child to remain helpless and dependent upon them for gratification. such parents were martyrs, doing for us what we needed to do for ourselves, or paying excessive attention to their own emotions to gain from us the sympathy and consideration which we ourselves may have needed to experience. 

as a result, cancer moons give themselves messages which make them feel sorry for themselves, to indulge in their own pain, to expect too much from others, or become overly attached to food, home, and loved ones as a form of security.  one of the most important tasks will be that of fully mourning the symbiosis your inner child never had or inevitably had to relinquish as part of maturation. you may have to experience the depth of your needs to nurture and be nurtured, and, as adults, to establish patterns of behavior and interaction which fulfill those needs without surrendering to them. the lunar lessons may also include: a) contacting and communicating your real needs and feelings; b) building an inner foundation of security; c) overcoming behaviors based on helplessness or which use helplessness and neediness as weapons; d) learning to support the adult and the child in other people, and to love without possessing; e) devoting yourselves to self-nourishment rather than giving undue attention to giving and receiving in relationships.

moon in leo

leo moons particularly need to feel loved and appreciated, to be prioritized, to play around, and to express themselves spontaneously and creatively. they need warmth and devotion and can give abundantly from their hearts as long as they’re also being fed with love. otherwise, their lunar nature may become distorted and compulsive in its insistence upon attention and / or power. negatively, they may overdramatize to impact others, or may become dominating and bossy in their attempts to maintain command over themselves and others.

a leo moon suggests that they had loving parental figures who prized them highly, became enthusiastically involved in their activities and triumphs, and could encourage and share their playful spirit. however, an afflicted moon may show parents who either overindulged or deprived them. at one extreme are the mothers who spoiled them with too much attention and too many treats, preparing them to live adult lives as royalty. at the other extreme are the narcissistic parents, the abusive parents who worried only that leo moons became obedient subjects, or who overly identified with them, urging the kids to live their dreams and adamantly discouraging individuality.

as a result of childhood upbringing, they may have internalized messages which support attention-seeking, childish, demanding and / or dominating behavior patterns. leo moons may act as if they deserve to be the centre of everyone's universe and not just their own. because of unmet needs, they become compulsive in the desire to prove their value and gain acclaim.

this moon has much to give, provided it can bask in the sunlight of warmth and affection. leos may need to feed themselves emotionally rather than always expect others to provide for them. they need to give themselves their full attention and appreciation and be their own audience.  if they are to experience emotional satisfaction, they need to keep their hearts open to pain and joy, and to become capable of loving others not only because they love them but also because they truly love themselves. 

moon in virgo

if you have a virgo moon, you may be adept at using your minds to defend against unwanted feelings. you need organization and predictability in at least some facets of your lives; you need to experience yourselves as useful, as providers of valued services in your work and personal activities; you need to structure your experiences and care for your physical wellbeing. you have high standards for yourselves and others, and a need to maintain personal integrity at all costs. 

if you lose touch with your deeper emotional nature, your constructive virgoan traits may become destructively compulsive. you may insist on order and efficiency which destroys the spontaneity and vitality in and around you; you become workaholics, unable to relax and at the mercy of your compulsion to keep busy at all costs. you fuss, worry, nag and intellectualize incessantly (and unnecessarily). you subordinate yourselves to others, compelling them to use your services. you rip yourselves apart with self-criticism, and likewise cannot allow imperfection in others. 

having a virgo Moon suggests that you experienced a significant virgoan energy in one or both of your parent figures. a positive virgoan parent may have encouraged your mental development, taught you constructive habits, and enabled you to experience a safe and orderly early environment without crushing the child in you. such a parent may have taught you how to use reason and common sense to master rather than repress your feelings and was probably helpful through providing many of the little but significant services of routine.

negatively, a virgoan parent may have exposed you to super-efficiency, criticism, analysis, perfectionism and / or pettiness which frustrated and inhibited your emotional growth and fragile self-esteem. the 'should system' of your childhood may have become an internal structure which continues to enslave you as adults. your sense of not being good enough impairs your ability to function personally and professionally. alternatively, a subservient slavish parent may have catered to you too frequently; a hypochondriacal parent may have focused so obsessively upon ill-health that yourselves had to become sickly or hypochondriacal to receive attention and care (my friend’s personal experience). 

you need to revise the messages you give yourselves, which continue to keep detrimental virgoan patterns in operation. your task is to learn to experience and value all your feelings and needs while also using your analytical capabilities to create the order and discipline you crave so badly. you need to develop new standards for yourselves and others, standards which accept your imperfect human behaviors while also valuing your occasional moments of superhuman goodness or accomplishment. choosing to love yourselves, choosing to discover the wondrous perfection of your imperfection, may nourish your souls so profoundly that you actually become more giving and capable human beings.

[killian-whump]

Game Night! [Liveblog #4]

I’m gonna try to finish up the last game and the end of the video in this post, so we better get right to it!

The last game they’re going to play is called Quiplash. Okay, they’re going to be given a prompt... and whoever finishes the quip in the funniest way wins. Kat warns that she’s a master at this and that everybody’s going down. Colin seems impressed by her bravado, but incensed to win nonetheless. “Here we go,” says Sam unenthusiastically 😂

AND THE GAME IS ON!!!

...or it’s meant to be on. Sam’s not joined the game yet. Seems to be having some sort of technical difficulty. “You scared of losing, Sam?” Colin asks helpfully. “All the rest of us got in pretty easy...”

Sam has joined. His name is now Colonislosin 😂 It’s hard to see exactly how it’s spelled. I don’t think any of them can see it that clearly, either. Sam has to tell them what it says.

“We’ll see,” Colin says. “We’ll see.”

The game begins. “It’s more like Col-on is losin,” Sam says. “Col-on.”

The audio is breaking all up in this segment, and Josh even comments on “Low internet signal. We’re doing great.” Hmm. I paid $10 for this, you damn well better find a stronger internet signal.

ROUND 1! The first quip is: We can all agree that... The two answers are: “Covid sucks” and “Josh... is... hairy” “Covid sucks” wins ~ and Colin gets all the points.

The second quip is: A terrible name for a funeral parlor. The two answers are: “Happy Times Palace” and “We put the Fun in Funeral” “We put the Fun in Funeral” wins ~ and Kat gets all the points.

The third quip is: “Knock Knock” “Who’s There?” The two answers are: “Me DUH” and “Get the fuck away from my door” “Get the fuck away” wins and Josh gets most of the points. Colin gets some too, I think, for his answer, because Sam voted for it.

The fourth quip is: “Something that would make a creepy replacement for the horses on a merry-go-round.” The two answers are: “Mini Josh’s” and “Creepy Princes” AREN’T THOSE THE SAME THING?! 😂 “One and the same,” says Sammy. “You don’t want to sit on a mini Josh, do you?” Sam ponders. Josh forgets to even vote, and Sam gets points for “Mini Josh’s”

At the end of Round 1, Sam is in the lead, with Kat and Colin tied for second.

I wanna take this moment to apologize for how BORING this post is so far. During the games, all five people (the three stars, Josh, and Sammy the producer) are in these miniscule windows on the far right of the screen. You can barely even see them. And during this game, there’s little to no conversation going on between/during the quips. As much fun as this game might be to play, it’s not a lot of fun to watch. The last one was better, but even that tended to DRAG for the audience at home. Josh really needs to work on the games he’s having stars play if he plans to keep charging $10 a month to watch this stuff. Also, the audio keeps breaking up in this segment, so even when they talk, some of it’s hard to decipher.

“I respect that Colin is doing this instead of reading bedtime stories to his children tonight,” Josh says as everyone’s entering in their answers for Round 2. “[That’s] how committed I am,” Colin replies. Kat says something that is so broken up, I can’t even begin to figure out what it is. Something about bedtime stories and Colin’s kids. It’s probably funny. 🤷‍♀️ I’m getting mad about my $10 gift card being gone again.

Alright. Round 2.

Quip #1: It never ends well when you mix ___ and ___. Answers: “poo and oatmeal” and “Sam and Josh” Okay, that second one is gold. Who did that? Apparently Colin did “poo and oatmeal” and Kat did “Sam and Josh”. Bless her. Colin gets the points with more votes, though.

Quip #2: The worst car feature that ends with “holder” Answers: “penis” and “diaper” Sam is just blinking rapidly. Now he’s laughing. “How does that work?” he asks. No one answers. “But I wanna know,” he says. “How does it work?” Josh wins the points with his “penis” answer - which Colin voted for, by the way - but no one cares now. “Does it move?” Kat asks. “Or does it just-” “Don’t ask too many questions,” Josh says. “What kind of size is it?” Sam asks. “Is it stationary or is there a motor feature?” Kat asks. “Maybe it’s a good idea...” Sam concludes, as Josh laments the kind of dreams he’s going to have now.

The third quip is literally happening in the background now, as everyone talks about the penis holder. Colin is noticeably silent on the topic XD

Quip #3: Something upsetting you could say to the cable guy as he installs your television service. Answers: “you smell like fart” and “want to see my murder room?” I’m sitting here going, “don’t be Colin, don’t be Colin” while simultaneously knowing 100% that Colin absolutely typed “you smell like fart” into his phone and... Yeah. Yeah, I’m right. That was him 😂 And he got 0 points. “Oh, boooo,” says Colin. Honey... Honey, I’m sorry, but that was bad.

Quip #4: The name of the reindeer Santa did not pick to pull his sleigh. Answers: “ohdeer” and “tipsy” Neither of these are very good. I hate this game. Kat gets the points with “tipsy”.

OH WOW, YOU GUYS. The final points are tallied and...

WHAT IS THIS TOMFOOLERY?! Colin is LOSING?!?! I mean, I know “you smell like fart” was bad, but this is unbelievable! I call shenanigans!!!

Colin is literally sitting forward in his chair now, lmao. The determination is intense, you guys. I once again cannot handle him right now. I wish he wasn’t in the teeny tiny window so I could show you guys better, but look at him getting his fucking game face on:

This man is a peanut and I love him with every fiber of my being. Look at him being a competitive little somesuch in last place. I can’t, you guys. Bury me here, etc, etc, I’m just a goner for this ridiculous man.

O’DONOINTENSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last Round: Quip: Strange side effect to hear during a drug commercial. Answers: “cream cheese will come out of your butt” “seeing double horowitz” and “the screams of baboons” - there’s only three because Kat didn’t get her answer in before the time was up. Aaaaaaand the sound’s breaking all up again 😣 Josh is wondering what the point is of voting, if all you’re doing is giving points to your competitors. “Do you have to give all three votes?” Colin asks. “See,” Josh says. “Colin is thinking strategically, like me.” “Well, I’m not entirely sure the other two, I think, deserve any more than one point.” But it’s... it’s the WAY he says it, OH MY GOD, lol. Lemme... I gotta... Okay, I screen recorded it for you guys.

That O’Donosass is actually almost worth $10, you guys.

Which is good, because the audio is getting worse and worse on this and it’s starting to piss me off. Anyway! Everybody’s got a lot of points, because those were ALL good answers (Colin’s was “the screams of baboons” which I quite like). Let’s see the final tally...

Josh is the winner! But Colin managed a come-from-behind close second, so I’m really proud of him :D Sam mentions how Josh invited them all there to play games and then BEAT them. Josh is closing out the show, saying he hopes everyone enjoyed it... “I enjoyed it,” Josh says "But maybe that’s just 'cause I won at the very last second.” “No, well, you won ONE,” Colin cuts in. “You won ONE game.”

SERIOUSLY. BURY ME RIGHT THERE 😂😂😂

“Colin won the first round,” Josh says.

“...and then we have these two other people.”

Incidentally, I wish everyone’s webcams were as clear as Kat’s.

Anyway, now there’s some sweet summing up... and Josh hawking everyone’s current projects... (gee, it’s like this is promotional content or something) and the show closing down and-

“Can I win next time?” asks Sam Heughan.

~ The End ~

I hope you guys had fun reading this. I gotta say...  this one video isn’t worth $10. I can see if you’re a huge fan of Josh’s or really into celebrity culture, $10 a month might be a fine price to pay for a bunch of this kind of content... but for a one-time video when your fave happens to show up on his channel? Nah. He really should have a “one time access” fee available for individual videos that’s a LOT less. Like, I’m talking, like... $1 or 2. This is literally a zoom call... and as such, the quality’s only as good as his guests’ webcams and audio and everyone’s internet connections. Also, I found the game format enticing... but ultimately boring due to the games chosen. The Would You Rather was the most fun of the three, because we actually got to hear from the stars and get some banter going. The games relied too much on the stars interacting with their devices instead of each other or anyone really engaging the audience. Honestly, if it was any of my faves other than Colin in this video, I might not have even watched the whole thing. Colin’s adorable competitive streak and eagerness to win play games is what kept me watching. The idea is cute, but it needs some work. And the price is too high - especially with the audio issues in the last ten minutes or so. That’s my final verdict.

[thewayshedreamed]

Open Secrets— Nessian AU

Prompt submission by Nonnie— Reverse fake dating au where everyone thinks you’re dating and you’re keeping it a secret, but you’re not.

Thanks to whoever submitted this prompt! I’d originally completed this prompt for Feysand, but I struggled between that one and this one! Thanks to @awesomelena555 and @bookstantrash for encouraging me to post the Nessian version too!

——————————————————————————

Nesta pulled up to Rhysand and Feyre’s new home about 30 minutes after their house-warming party had begun. It was certainly a little out of character of her, being that she was someone who considered five minutes early as “on time”. It wasn’t really her fault. Elain had called her right before she pulled into their neighborhood to let her know they had drastically underestimated the amount of alcohol they would need for all the guests. Nesta had driven a little past the neighborhood to make the supplemental booze run, and she was about to walk into this party a hero.

She slipped into the party, aiming to keep a low profile. She absolutely hated arriving somewhere and being the sudden center of attention, so she was hoping to avoid that. The party was split; half indoors and half outdoors, making it all the easier for her.

She took inventory of her surroundings as she made her way toward the kitchen. There were several small groups sprinkled around in conversation, and some were outside playing yard games or drinking games. She already felt hungover just watching them.

Her eyes landed on Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian. They were off to the side, all sipping on drinks, and talking enthusiastically with each other. She noticed Cassian seemed to be on the receiving end of whatever hell they were giving, if his rigid posture and frequent eye rolling was any indication. She chuckled a little at that; he probably had that coming.

He excused himself abruptly from the conversation, tossing his beer bottle into a trash can a few feet away. He walked toward the house, and Nesta quickly directed her attention back to unloading the beer and liquor to wherever it needed to be stored in the kitchen. She heard the sliding glass door open, then close, followed by heavy footsteps walking through the kitchen.

“Hey, Nes! When did you get here?” He threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side-hug while she worked.

It seemed like such a small thing to most, but the fact that she and Cassian had made it to this point impressed her. With the way things had started when they’d originally met, things looked bleak for them on the friendship front. She wasn’t sure when his snark and cocky demeanor shifted from infuriating to endearing, but she had come to learn that those traits were such a tiny part of who he was. All of that considered, she leaned in to the casual side-hug, not wanting to take their progress for granted.

“Just now, actually. I haven’t even finished unloading the car.”

”Damn, sweetheart. How much booze did you bring?!” He grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it as he leaned back on the counter.

”Probably not enough if we’re sharing with the likes of you,” she teased. She felt a small tap between her shoulder blades, followed by a ping sound. She turned around to see Cassian’s beer cap sliding across the floor. That little shit actually threw his beer cap at her.

She glared at him and was met with a sideways smirk on his face. He broke into a laugh when she didn’t back down and rocked forward to push himself off the counter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you by helping you unload the car. Keep me company?” he requested.

”Fine. On the way you can tell me what your friends were giving you shit about outside. I’m starting to think maybe you earned it,” she taunted.

The cadence of his steps was interrupted just a fraction by her question, but he recovered quickly enough.

”Actually, I don’t know that I did this time.”

”Well now I’m definitely intrigued.”

He hesitated for several seconds, his jaw working as he thought through what to say next.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” he stated, as he opened the backseat of her car. He grabbed the rest of the drinks before shutting her car door firmly.

“That makes me want to know even more, Cassian.”

”Okay, fine. But just remember that you wanted this. And you can’t be mad or get weird about it.”

His disclaimer gave her pause, but she nodded her head anyway. Curiosity won this round.

“For whatever reason, they have their minds made up that you and I are seeing each other and are trying to keep it on the down low. I’m still not entirely sure why they think we would keep it under wraps if we were involved, but that’s their theory right now.” His words came out in a rush as if he was trying to get it over with and pretend they never had the conversation.

Nesta merely blinked several times before replying, “Hm. Okay. So I get that they didn’t tell you why they think we’d hide it, but did they at least say why they think we’re a thing in the first place?”

Cassian rolled his eyes as he unloaded the remaining drinks into the refrigerator.

“Who the fuck knows with those two? All I remember them saying was something about how we have way too much tension between us and how we went from hating each other to being friendly overnight.” He took a swig of his beer.

”So, since we’re nice to each other now, we’re fucking?” There was no frustration in her tone. She was actually a little amused at how faulty the logic was.

Cassian choked on his beer; the result of not being prepared for that question coming from Nesta, of all people. He coughed into his elbow several times before he recovered.

“Caught me off guard, sorry. Yes, apparently, but I told them to knock it off.”

She was lost in thought for several seconds. “This could be fun,” she mused.

”What could be fun?” His confusion was obvious all over his face.

“The more we try to prove them wrong, the more they’re going to think they’re right. So why not just lean into it and have a little fun messing with them.”

”Oo. I like this. Get them all riled up about it and let them down later. I can’t say I’d hate to watch them squirm a little,” he replied.

”Exactly. But if we do this, we have to commit. We can’t question each other in front of anyone else, or the whole thing is shot,” she warned. “If we feel like we’re not on the same page, we reconvene here and make our way back out there once we figure it out.”

He smiled at her, a true broad smile, with the gleam of mischief in his hazel eyes. “You’re a wicked little woman, Archeron. I love it.”

——————————————————————————

They walked from the kitchen together, breaking apart once Nesta started making her rounds to greet everyone. Cassian walked back over to his friends, who were both clearly amused with themselves even still. He wanted to throttle both of them.

“What took you so long, Cass?” Rhys asked, a cocky little half smile on his face.

”Helped Nesta unload all the booze out of her car.” He took a long swig of his beer. “Don’t you say a fucking word, you prick.”

”Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rhys replied, earning a laugh from Azriel.

Both of them looked over his shoulder just as he felt someone approach him from behind. He felt a small hand rest on his bicep, turning him slightly toward them.

“Hey, Cass,” Nesta beamed up at him, and he swore his heart stopped. “I never said thank you for helping me.” She glanced down at her hand, and quickly drew it away to put it in her back pocket. She looked down at the ground and cleared her throat before looking at him again. “So, thank you. I owe you one.”

Wow, she was good. She looked every bit the part of someone who lost her bearings and was caught being affectionate. His returning smile was genuine.

“Of course. Happy to do it,” he replied, as she turned her attention to greet Rhysand and Azriel.

She walked away to make her next stop in greetings, and he made sure to watch her go for just a second longer than necessary. When he turned his attention back to the guys, they were smirking at each other like the smug bastards they were. This was going to be too easy.

——————————————————————————

The next couple of hours progressed in a similar fashion. Surprisingly, they stayed on the same page without much effort, playing off of each other from one scenario to the next. They gravitated to each other when their paths happened to cross, but they kept their interactions short. If someone walked up on them, they slipped away somewhat awkwardly as if they were guilty of something they shouldn’t be doing. They easily slipped small, seemingly intimate actions into each interaction whenever they knew Rhys or Azriel was nearby. Nesta would rest her hand on Cassian’s forearm briefly as they laughed. Cassian would shove her with his shoulder in passing, earning a playful scolding from Nesta. A couple of times when they were standing in a small group, Nesta would subtly grab Cassian’s drink to take a sip and hand it back as if it were second nature. In response, Cassian would rub his thumb absent-mindedly over where her lips had touched the rim. By this point, Rhys and Azriel were nearly bursting with their desire to call them out on their behavior.

They partnered up for a couple of games, making it a point to stand an arm’s length apart. However, occasionally when things would go their way, they would engage in a celebratory hug and simultaneously spring apart to their original places like they forgot themselves. Nesta decided they worked incredibly well together despite being such an unlikely alliance. They won the second game and celebrated with loud cheers and a high five. Nesta caught Cassian’s eye briefly, muttering “Kitchen, in 5” through her smile.

She made her way there and busied herself with refilling her drink. Right on time, she heard Cassian’s heavy footfall entering the kitchen. She turned around, meeting his amused expression with one of her own.

”Hey! Everything okay? Am I not reading this right?” he asked.

“No, no, no. You’re great. I just wanted to talk without eyes on us for a second to see how you think things are going. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught Rhys and Azriel glancing over at us,” she said through a chuckle. His shoulders seemed to relax at her reassurance.

He responded with a laugh of his own. “Oh, they’re crawling out of their skin. Especially Rhys. It kills him when he thinks he’s right but can’t say anything.”

”That’s definitely like him,” Nesta joked.

Around Cassian’s shoulder, she saw Azriel through the glass door approaching the house. She glanced up at her partner-in-crime with a conspiratorial grin across her face.

“Hug me. Hurry— make it good.” He did as he was told, looping an arm around her waist and cradling her head to his chest. “When you hear the door open, back up.”

A few more seconds passed before they heard the long slide of the glass door as Azriel pulled it open. Cassian made a show of tensing and pulling away quickly, clearing his throat. Nesta shoved her hands into her back pockets as she had done several times over the course of the day when she was “caught” touching her rumored lover.

“Well, hey guys. How’s it going?” Azriel asked with a cocky, sideways smile.

Cassian mumbled something about needing the restroom and quickly fled the premises, leaving Nesta to brave Azriel alone. He’d definitely be paying for that one.

“Good. I needed a little break from outside. Got a little overwhelmed with all the hustle and bustle.”

”Mm. Understandable,” he replied, grabbing another beer from the fridge and turning toward her. “What was all that about? With Cass?”

”What was what?”

“Nesta. All the hugging I had the misfortune of walking in on. What’s going on with you two?” He leaned back onto the counter, crossing one ankle over the other and putting his free hand in his front pocket.

It took her a second to gather her thoughts before she decided she didn’t particularly care for being the only flustered one around here. Additionally, she was annoyed that Azriel seemed so cocksure about his position, as if Nesta were totally oblivious to all the questioning he and Rhys had done earlier. Granted, as far as they knew, she was, but that was neither here nor there.

It was time for the tables to start turning, even if she hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Cassian yet. However, if he were that concerned about it, he wouldn’t have completely abandoned her to deal with Azriel. He was along for the ride now and would have to go with the flow.

Azriel wasn’t one to be easily flustered, that much Nesta knew. She knew she wouldn’t be able to be incredibly subtle because he would see right through it. She also knew he wasn’t above continuing to point on the flaws in her logic if she were to get caught in that web. She had to be decisive, creative, and she had to commit.

She walked over a little closer to him, facing him and propping her hip on the counter next to where he was leaning. She looked up into his face, and he eyed her suspiciously, an apprehensive look dawning over his features. Perfect.

“So, that’s in then. You’ve cracked our code?” she asked quietly.

”I wouldn’t call what you two have a ‘code’, Nes.” Arrogant bastard. Any doubt or guilt she’d felt for deceiving her friends had officially dwindled to zero. Azriel’s response had served her in that way, at least. She inched slightly closer to him, running her fingertips from his forearm down to his wrist, where his hand met his pocket.

“Then you knew we were going to talk to you? What gave it away?” she whispered, looping her fingers around the sensitive underside of his wrist.

Azriel’s eyes widened, glancing to her hand and back up to her face quickly. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

”You hardly need my permission, Nesta,” he responded.

She brought her other hand to cup his shoulder, leaning into him a little more. She could feel his entire body tense as if moving too quickly would provoke her to attack. He took an extra long pull from his beer.

“I disagree. Cassian and I both insisted that we talk to you together.”

It was at that moment that her co-conspirator returned from his bathroom trip. She watched as he scanned the situation, noting her hands on Azriel’s arm and shoulder. He pulled his lips into a curious smile.

“The two of you look cozy. I thought we were talking to him together, sweetheart,” he said, playing off of the comment he’d overheard.

He moved to the spot on the other side of Azriel, shooting her a questioning look when Azriel’s attention was turned away from him. Nesta’s face gave nothing away as she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at Cassian with affectionate exasperation.

“You took a little while, and I wasn’t sure when we would be able to get him alone again. I hadn’t said anything to him yet. Not without you.”

”Well, don’t let me stop you. By all means, love, carry on,” he said, using a flat palm gesture forward. He gave her a full smile in return, and she noted how much it softened his features. He truly was quite beautiful, in a rough, raw sort of way.

She peered up at Azriel, waiting until he looked down at her.

“You mentioned me and Cassian, but it’s not what you think. At least, not exactly.” He gave her a confused look. She decided to continue before she lost her nerve with this last-minute plan. She turned her gaze to Cassian for the briefest of seconds before looking back at Azriel.

“I don’t really know how to ask this properly, so I’m just going to go for it, I guess. I know you think we’re sleeping together and it’s some kind of secret. But honestly, we wouldn’t care to be secretive about just us. We’re adults. But, we wanted to be respectful of you in the event you were okay with this.”

She could see Cassian hanging on her every word beside Azriel, just as naive to what she was going to suggest. She took a breath before finishing in a low rasp, sounding way more confident than she felt. It was all for the mission, she told herself.

“We wanted to know if you’d join us, Az.” She watched as his eyes nearly popped out of his head, hurrying to finish. “I know, I know. Probably out of nowhere, but we agreed we would give you some time to think. And it doesn’t have to be an ongoing thing if you want to try and see how it goes. No hard feelings either way, seriously.”

She moved her gaze to meet Cassian’s, whose hazel eyes were also threatening to launch from their sockets. He mastered himself quickly, his timing perfect, since Azriel was snapping his head toward him.

”What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is this?” He was looking back and forth between them, begging for an explanation or an escape route.

Nesta feared that maybe she had made an executive call that Cassian wasn’t good with carrying through. To her surprise, he lifted one of his large hands to cup Azriel’s cheek, keeping his face turned toward him.

”Az, it’s okay.” He subtly rubbed his thumb over Azriel’s cheek, and Nesta had to bite her cheek to keep from giggling. “You don’t have to say anything now. It’s just... I trust you. And if I’m going to do this, it makes the most sense for it to be with someone who knows me like you do. Plus, you were first on Nesta’s list.”

She shot him a heated glare, knowing he was throwing her under the bus as revenge for keeping him out of the loop. She supposed she had earned that.

Azriel shot from his position, walking to the other side of the kitchen. He set his beer down and braced both of his large hands on the countertop. His head was hanging forward as he took deep breaths, and they heard him mutter a low, “What the fuck?”

Nesta and Cassian had both oriented toward him, their backs now toward the counter. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, Cassian with his hands in his pockets and Nesta with her arms crossed. She grabbed her drink she’d refilled earlier to take a sip before offering some to Cassian.

Ariel’s head lifted slightly as he fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him.

“Why do people always ask me to be part of their threesomes?” he whispered to no one in particular. Nesta and Cassian turned their heads toward each other, both of their brows raised in question. How often was this happening to Azriel?

He turned around to face them again, his brown furrowed in concentration.

“Az, don’t overextend yourself for our benefit,” Cassian joked. “I didn’t realize we were two of many.”

”Fuck off, Cass.” He rubbed his temples in impatience. “Can I ask, why me?”

Nesta didn’t miss a beat. They’d tortured him enough, and she was ready to reveal the truth.

“Well, seeing as you and Rhysand feel so comfortable as to insert yourselves into other’s affairs, we figured you may appreciate a front-row seat,” she replied dryly.

Cassian snorted a laugh and looked down at her with something like admiration. He bumped her shoulder with his for good measure.

“You’re messing with me?” Azriel demanded incredulously. Cassian broke out into a full laugh at that.

“Indeed. Nothing gets by you, Az,” he responded.

”We have been all day,” Nesta interjected. “You two were quick to lean in to your theory.” She couldn’t hide her laugh this time.

Azriel stood there, dumbfounded and speechless. His eyes scanned both of their faces and darkened as he noted their amusement.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just go around asking people to join you in threesomes!”

”Don’t be upset, man. You’ll always be my first choice,” Cassian teased.

Azriel’s eyes locked onto his, showing a strong promise of violence if this conversation didn’t change direction.

“Oh, stop it. Both of you. Cassian, stop antagonizing Azriel. And you.” She pointed her finger to where Azriel stood. “You think I didn’t know about you and Rhysand’s little theories about me and Cassian? All because we dared be nice to each other?”

She gave him a chance to respond. He didn’t.

“I’ve seen every single smirk you two have exchanged anytime we were within 10 feet of each other, so sure that you were right about us. We fed every bit of it to you on a platter, and you were too quick to believe what you wanted. Well, let this,” she gestured with her finger in a circle, “be a reminder that things aren’t always as they seem. And stop theorizing on your friend’s sex life. You know better than anyone that his arrogance would have him giving you the details for less than this.”

“Hey!” Cassian complained. “I’m on your side.”

Azriel lifted both of his hands in surrender, breathing a low chuckle before he spoke.

“I don’t know whether I’m more relieved by the truth or pissed off that you two did this to us all damn day. But either way, you’re right, Nesta. It’s really not our business, and we’ve been know-it-all little pricks all day long. I’m sorry. Truly.” He moved forward, holding out his arms in offer of a group hug. They accepted, Nesta gripping each of them around the waist and Cassian wrapping around both of their shoulders.

Just before they let go, Cassian nuzzled his face into Azriel’s neck, earning a curse from Azriel as he playfully pushed him away. Nesta threw her head back in a laugh, relieved, yet disappointed, that their game had come to an end.

——————————————————————————

Later that evening, what remained of their little gathering had moved inside to continue the festivities. Someone had suggested Twister, and Cassian had offered to referee and work the spinner. He was way too fucking big for this game.

“Right hand, blue!” he called.

He watched as his friends scrambled to find the closest blue space, bickering as if it were life or death. He laughed as he watched Rhysand and Nesta battle over the same blue space. The latter ended up sprawled on her ass by the time the turn was over. She huffed her frustration and landed a firm poke to Rhysand’s ribs before stalking over to the couch by Cassian.

“Cheap shot, demon witch,” Rhysand called after her. The masked affection in his tone was obvious, but she shot him a vulgar gesture all the same.

“Don’t be a sore loser, sweetheart,” he teased, as she plopped down on the couch next to him. “You got yours earlier tonight when Azriel filled him in on our ruse.”

“That’s totally different,” she insisted.

He called out the next position, watching intently for any foul play. He heard her quiet voice from next to him and had to fight the urge to turn to her.

“You know, I had a lot of fun with you today,” she said.

“I did, too. We made a good team,” he replied.

He rested a hand above her knee absent-mindedly, pulling it away just as quickly to flick the spinner for the next turn. Apparently, their day of shenanigans had lowered any reservations he had about making physical contact with her. His palm seemed to burn slightly where he’d touched her.

“Right foot, green!” he called.

She dropped her voice just a bit lower so that only he could hear over the mixed sounds in the room.

“Did it make you even a little curious? I guess all that pretending had me thinking of what it would be like if we...” she trailed off.

He couldn’t fight his glance at her this time. He took note of her bottom lip between her teeth and the slight blush across her cheeks. That was the second time tonight that he had been struck dumb by how beautiful she was.

He fought to turn his face away from hers to initiate the next turn. He called out the next position before answering her as nonchalantly as possible.

“Curiosity hit me well before tonight, sweetheart.” His heart thundered slightly at the admission.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she reached for his phone on the cushion between them. She handed it to him when she was prompted with the lock screen, and he mindlessly typed in his code. She worked for a second, locked his phone, and placed it back into its original position before reaching for her own.

He had to settle a disagreement between Mor and Feyre about hand placement before he was able to turn his attention back to Nesta. Why the fuck had he ever volunteered for this?

He unlocked his phone to see that his messaging app was open. There was an outgoing message to a number he didn’t recognize. Upon opening it, all the message said was, “Cassian.”

He glanced over at Nesta, watching as she stopped typing and locked her own phone. Within seconds, his phone vibrated with an incoming message from that unknown number. Nesta’s number.

He scanned the message, realization dawning on him within seconds. She’d sent him her home address followed by four simple words. “No pressure. No expectations.”

Before he could say anything at all, Nesta stood from the couch, reaching her arms over her head in a long stretch. His mouth went dry looking at the lines her body made as she did so.

“Alright, guys. It’s past my bedtime. I’m out,” she called as she blew kisses to her sisters.

She grabbed her things, slid her feet into her shoes, and made her way toward the door. She lingered for half a second to give Cassian a small smile. Just like that, she was gone, leaving Cassian to finish what seemed like it could be the longest Twister game in all of eternity.

——————————————————————————

Kind of already have a part 2 swimming around in my head for this one, so that may be a thing soon! 

Feel free to keep the prompts coming, and let me know if you have a particular pairing or mood in mind ☺️

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, you can comment, shoot me an ask, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

Tags (Masterlist):

@polireader // @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash // @gisellefigue08​ // @maastrash​ // @superspiritfestival // @girl-who-reads-the-books

[tellyouwhatilike]

WILDFLOWER PART 1 - CALUM HOOD

So this is what I’ve been working on! I’m finishing part 2 as I post this. I really hope y’all like this, it’s been super fun to write and I haven’t posted any new writing in a loooooooong time- so please let me know what you think! <3 

Part one does not contain any smut, part 2 will 100% be smut lol. 

WARNING: This contains mature language and subject matters, 18+ please!!

__________________________________________

                               PART ONE

 “Cal!” An excited voice called from across the large patio.

Calum’s head whipped around while his eyes searched the scantily-clad crowd at one of this month’s industry networking events the label requested he attend. He had to admit, this was one of the more amusing ones, a themed pool party with a barbeque style spread. With that signature phony, ostentatious LA touch to it, of course. This is the kind of thing Calum typically steered clear of in the past; less so since officially uprooting his life to Los Angeles and being conditioned by his band’s record label to make appearances at gatherings like this on a regular basis. His eyes finally landed on his target and his lips curled up instantly—the melodic voice that had called out his name over the masses of valleyspeak blending together in the background, and subsequently, the only true reason he’d agreed to represent the band tonight at this function.

“My, my, my; look what we have here” he said with cheeky implication as he took a moment to slowly look her up and down with a shit-eating grin spread across his face, leaving his eyes squinted and cheeks rounded. She looked even better than he remembered, her long tousled hair neatly spilling over her shoulder just how he’d always liked it. It had been months since he’d seen her in the flesh and the sight of her was enough to make him feel giddy to his core.

“I’m so glad you could make it” she replied with a breathy laugh, cheeks slightly flushed as her arms wrapped around his neck for a quick squeeze ‘hello.’ In that moment, she was very pleased with her decision to wear her sleek black one-piece suit under her cutoff shorts with a red lip—a combination that always delivered. His palm lingered across the span of her waist around her back, squeezing gently, letting it run down to her hip before letting go. When they parted from their embrace and their eyes met, Calum’s cheeky confidence quickly turned shy and boyish, as it typically does.

“Yeah, me too. This is—this is quite the soiree.” He motioned to the mingling bodies around them. “Um, so how have you been, how was Morocco?” He looked down awkwardly at his shoes for a brief moment, cursing himself and nature for not being smoother. Trying not to come off too eager although he’d been thinking about this interaction daily for nearly a year now, whether they had been speaking or not.

They had been engaging in a modest flirtation for months and months now, they had tried going on a handful of dates right around the time the band came back to LA from touring to focus on writing the following album, ‘Calm.’ The term ‘dates,’ however, should be used loosely; Calum’s record label doesn’t approve of the guys getting snapped by paps casually dating around. Rules have certainly been broken in the past— but he figured, since they’d only just met, it wasn’t worth the headaches that these things cause on the harsh world that is the internet. People always talk and it tends to confuse the masses. So, they opted for more intimate yet appropriate venues for their rendezvous like dinner at Calum’s outdoor living space, tight knit shin-digs at his bandmate Michael’s house, or lengthy facetime calls from their respective home couches.

Calum was absolutely smitten- a feeling so new to him, he couldn’t even remember if he’d ever felt it with anyone else before. He was also terrified things would fall apart just like they always had in the past, she ran free and untamed, never staying in one place long enough to make lasting connections, making Calum wary of her potentially leaving and breaking his heart. He could always see it in her face, there was a wild side to her that she couldn’t explain. Things quickly began to prove too consuming for him as he tried to juggle really getting to know her, despite his reservations, and focusing on pouring his heart into the upcoming record. He’s the type to completely immerse himself in whatever it is that’s important to him, so he felt it wasn’t fair to them or his art if they continued building on the relationship. The pair chalked it up to poor timing and decided to give each other space while he worked with his band tirelessly on their music for a number of months. Forever the wandering bohemian, she jetted off to spend some time living with friends in Amsterdam and then frolicking about in Morocco for the summer.

Once the record was released, promotion was finished and the tour was completed; he and his band mates arrived back to LA for some much-needed R & R before eventually returning to the writing process to start it all over again. She returned back to her home base, for the time being, sun-kissed and thrilled to be back in the states for one major reason. Calum had spent nearly the whole first month home catching up on sleep, ordering sushi on grubhub and lounging around in boxers doing next to nothing; standard procedure. But now he was fully rested, extremely rejuvenated, and he was eager to get up to no good.

“I’ve been good, yeah, Morocco was gorgeous and…mind-altering…” She trailed off, losing her train of thought while taking in his face, she shook her head slightly. “Wow, it is so nice to see you again.” She reveled, her green eyes catching light of the twinkling strings adorning the canopy above where they stood. “It’s been a while, huh?” Her cheeks swelled up as she flashed him a smile and attempted to calculate quite how long it had been in her head, remembering some of the last times they hung out vividly. Thoughts shifting to his scent, how he looked different but it was somehow even better than before, the way he had to look down to meet her gaze, the hand he had pressed against her waist when he greeted her earlier, how she felt at ease and wired at the same time to be in his presence.

“Way too long” He said through a toothy smile, already having to remind himself of how they vowed to take things slowly over the text messages leading up to tonight, and simultaneously imagining leaving cherry red marks down the length of her neck. He couldn’t stop sneaking glimpses of her exposed skin and imagining her dark hair splayed across his crisp white sheets or holding her tightly while she wore one of his old t shirts, he desperately hoped that’s where this night was headed. His tongue slipped out and ran its way over his bottom lip when the thin black strap of her bathing suit slipped down her shoulder, his hand moving before the rational side of his brain had any time to talk him out of it. He gently brushed her hair back to expose her bare shoulder and slid the strap back up into place for her, their eyes meeting as his hand lingered there for a moment too long. His jaw tensed as he pulled his hand away, looking down briefly, she swallowed and made herself busy with her champagne flute. He swore he could feel little tiny electric sparks flying each time his skin met hers. “Sorry” He muttered, ever apologetic.

“Don’t be” She said softly and gave him ‘the eyes,’ the eyes that Calum still thought about before he fell asleep some nights. A face that looked like it came straight out of his dreams, innocent yet sinister all rolled into one, making him shiver. A face he couldn’t help but imagine staring up at him while she takes him into her mouth slowly, then all at once. Quite a regular fantasy he’d been having these days, this face felt like she was giving an open invitation to daydream of her. They’d been calling or texting almost daily for around two weeks since she arrived back home, anticipation rising with each passing day.

“So,” He cleared his throat some, “What are you doing after this?” He asked, meaning for it to come off more charming than it did. “I mean, would you want to go hang out somewhere… else? Or something.” He suddenly regretted going in for the kill so soon, he couldn’t read her expression, though he thought if he stared at her pouty pink lips and long dark lashes for long enough, he might. She smirked to herself and let out a chuckle, using her index finger to poke him in the chest. He, rather dramatically, twisted his face up and rubbed the spot vigorously with his palm.

“Owww!” He whined, wide eyed and feigning disdain. “What did you do that for?” He carried on while she rolled her eyes playfully. Tired of the party’s cold chickpea ‘cheeseburger’ sliders and shallow conversation, she decided to speed this process along. She was no fool, they’d both been waiting for this very moment as an excuse to hang out alone again.  

“Let’s get out of here.” She leaned in to put her lips up close to his ear, brushing her palm up against his bicep lightly. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, a little smile taking over her plush lips his eyes kept finding their way back to. “I wanna come to your house” She stated, stepping forward slightly to close the space between them, her scent creeping up into his nasal passages and making his mouth go dry imagining how sweet she’d taste.

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, his eyes widening. “Sure… I mean, yeah, sounds good. I’ll grab the car.” He said, trying (and failing) to sound as cool as possible, turning abruptly and b-lining for the gate, lightning suddenly coursing through his veins at the thought of what was to come. Once to the car, he used the mirror to check his hair as he pulled around to the front drive of the house, moving it around and smoothing it down, not making much of a difference with his recently-buzzed ‘do. Now, he knew exactly where the night was going.  

(To be continued...)

[theheartsmistakes]

A Court of Silver Flames rant

Back at it again with one of those book talks because no one in my personal inner circle has read it yet... because they all have lives. Spoilers under the cut!!

O.M.G... Silver Flames is on my top 5 list of favorite Maas books. If you’re reading this you probably don’t care but my list goes as such:

1. A Court of Mist and Fury

2. A Court of Silver Flames

3. Crescent City

4. A Court of Wings and Ruin

The fifth and final spot is yet to be taken... I read the Throne of Glass series, but I found her Court books to be better... anyway!

Pros: Nesta Archeron... I liked this bad bitch from the moment we met her in A Court of Thorns and Roses. I thought she was vicious and cruel and nasty, but underneath all of that anger... she held so much love for her family. I know she has a lot of issues and I’m not justifying any of the things that’s she done in the past or the things that she’s chosen to say, but I love the flaws that Sarah chose to give her. I am weak for a good redemption story and that’s what this was for me. It was a redemption story for a character that for all intents and purposes was a villain.  

I think I loved Nesta’s story the most because I can relate to her. Not so much in the vicious way she speaks to people, but in finding it difficult to forgive myself or to open myself up to other people in fear of them seeing what lies underneath. Sarah did such a great job of depicting that fear for Nesta and then carefully, through all sorts of elements: romantic love, platonic love, self-love, breaking that fear down so that Nesta could find happiness and forgiveness and acceptance. 

It was beautiful!

Cons: I could have done with like a fraction of these sex scenes. They did absolutely nothing for me except for like one or two of them. I made a Michael Scott face for some of them where I was just hella uncomfortable... and like grossed out. I’m no Gwyn, I’ve dabbled in my fair share of romance novels, but I just didn’t care for some of these scenes. I really felt like they were kind of out of character for Nesta, maybe that was the point, I don’t know. 

Those last 100 pages were SO rushed... it was so jarring. I went from relishing in domestic bliss with Cassian, to declining a mating bond I’ve known about since like book 2, to being flung into the Hunger Games, and then climbing the fucking mountain of Mordor (don’t get me wrong, I loved it, but I was just so confused). Then right when we’ve won that battle, we were thrown into the death and resurrection of three primary characters in the span of like 5 pages. But somehow, everything worked out fine... I am getting kind of tired of there being all of this build up about something like “oh, no one can wear all three artifacts and live EXCEPT this one person who is like barely a fae and has no control over her powers or self-awareness, but sure... she seems worthy. Let’s let her decide who lives and dies.” I would have accepted it a little easier if Nesta had truly lost something in this trade... like she lost her power completely instead of having a scrap left. I love that she made that 180 turn and basically sacrificed herself for Feyre, but I wanted more of a sacrifice from her... if that makes sense. As a writer and reader of fantasy, I firmly believe that magic needs to have rules and regulations otherwise it’s too predictable. What I mean by that is magic can’t solve everything and for Maas, I feel like too often it does. Let characters die. Let magic fail or come with a price at least.

What’s next: Please don’t come at me, I support everyone’s individual pairings, but I am not an Elucien fan. And I will tell you why: I didn’t like how Lucien handled the bond. Right after the poor distraught child was literally poured from a giant magic bathtub, he pounces on her declaring her his ‘mate’ as if she’d understand what the hell that meant. Rhys waited like a year before he told Feyre and same with Cassian. They gave their girls space and time to accept this while still remaining close. 

Lucien did give her space afterwards, but he just continued to handle it really poorly. There’s no spark, there’s no jolt, no oomph. I need the OOMPH!

Also, Elain is someone who has had very little choice in what happens in her life. From the moment she was born her own mother was like, “she’s beautiful. I shall sell her to highest bider because Nesta shall dance and Feyre is a wildling.” Then she was engaged to “what’s his face” because of his status and wealth, even though she claimed to love him. Then, she was dragged into the cauldron and turned into a fae and lost her chance at a happy, normal human life with what’s his face. And fresh out of the cauldron, this red haired fae man is trying to claim her. I would have been like... can I have a moment to process all of this fresh, new information. Treat me like a 90′s Dell computer, I need a whole hour to load these documents. Just stuck on the stupid hour glass. Then, she’s in a whole catatonic state because she’s lost everything she’s ever known and the love of her life is going to reject her and possibly try to murder her, while simultaneously being thrown into a war that she now has to play a part in. Plus, she’s seeing ugly visions of the future. I just feel so badly for Elain sometimes. I don’t want to force any expectations on her. I want her to live in her gardens, I want her to bake, and bring light to the night court. I want her to make make her own choices and for that reason I hope she chooses Azriel, because it will be her choice and not something forced upon her. Plus, Azriel deserves to be chosen by someone. He just does. His rejection rate is at an all time high and I think that’s just criminal.

Edit***

All right, so I just read Az’s additional chapter (my copy of the Silver Flames did not have it, and I may be switching teams. This is why I am an unreliable narrator, because I am so easily swayed. Honestly, I wanted Elain with Azriel for the previously mentioned reasons ^^^ and I stand by those reasons. However, after reading his chapter, I feel like Gwyn is a great match for Azriel. HOWEVER, I do not feel Azriel is a great match for Gwyn. I loved Gwyn’s character. I loved her spunk, her unwavering kindness, her loyalty, her innocence, her devotion, her talent, and I loved her interactions with Az. I loved that he rescued her and then helped train her so she wouldn’t need rescuing again. I also love how Az’s shadows interacted with her in such a different way from how they interact (or don’t) with Elain. They come out and play with Gwyn and she’s not afraid, but they seem to tuck themselves away when around Elain. Maybe because she’s so bright and sunny and Gywn feels comfort in shadows, I don’t know, just a theory. But this is a girl that is working through some trauma and is figuring out how to live and live well with that trauma. It’s not impossible, but it’s tough, and it’s going to require a lot of trust and time. Azriel is having wet dreams about Elain. I guess his attention could be swayed to Gwyn, especially if Elain truly becomes off-limits for him. If that is the course SJM is thinking about going, I’d like to see it done in the same way Mist and Fury was done when Rhys was helping Feyre heal.  Elain would have to be taken out of the picture in the same way Tamlin was. I hate that for Elain, because I like her and I want to see her flourish (plus aren’t the court books about the Archeron sister’s?) but it will not bode well with me if this becomes a weird love triangle with two traumatized women and a spy.

I thought this would help me but it has not. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I don’t think I’ll be mad if it goes either way. Elriel or Gwynriel, I’ll be happy for both of them.

Still don’t want Elain with Lucien because of previously mentioned reasons. He has learned to chill, but I still think he handled the bond wrong and now he needs to put in the time.

[crystalelemental]

Character Analysis - Limstella

I was asked today why I cared so much about Limstella, and of course, it turned into a whole thing.  I promise, there are legitimate reasons, aside from the fact that I just think they're super cute.  And fit the bill of being kinda creepy.  Basically they hit a lot of points for favoritism with me.  But, in proper "my favorite is a side character" fashion, I feel like Limstella has a lot of personality and depth to them, that is revealed through smaller bits of dialogue and interactions.

Consider this my early propaganda for CYL5.

Limstella's Role Let's start with this: it's true that Limstella gets very minimal dialogue, and has basically nothing to do aside from "be Nergal's right hand Morph," and "collect quintessence from the strongest fighters in the world."  They really don't have a ton to do.

At least, overtly.  You see, I think Limstella is, on their own, the lore of this game.  Blazing Blade's main story is pretty standard, and doesn't show much at first in Eliwood's mode.  But in Hector's mode, we get a lot more depth, particularly for the villains.  We learn about Nergal's origins, a bit more about one of his earliest Morphs, and some added dialogue from Nergal.  It poses the question of whether they, as living beings, share the same experiences as humans, and what exactly do they think and feel?  All of that adds a lot of philosophical inquiries about the nature of morphs, and Limstella embodies all of that.

What is a Morph? Canas: "Bishop, I must ask you...do you think these morphs have souls? Renault: "Souls?" Canas: "Yes, I am dreadfully curious to know.  The Elimineans say that all creatures possess souls...all those created by the gods, that is.  But what of those created by man?  And these manufactured beings...do they dream?  Do they think - and suffer - as we do?  Or must their emotions be...crafted...by another?"

Canas and Renault's supports are, in my mind, the best in the entire series.  Nothing has been able to top the level of impact this conversation had for me.  Not just because of how compelling it is as a philosophical notion, but because of how it contextualizes and mirrors everything we, the player, experience through what we see of the Morphs.

Think about the Morphs we encounter.  Ephidel, Sonia, Limstella, Kishuna, and Denning.  These are the main named Morphs who exist within the game.  How do they seem to you?  Ephidel seems cocky and conniving.  He drives the initial conflict that gets Eliwood's father drawn in, by being persuasive enough to manipulate leaders of nations to folly.  Sonia...is a bitch.  She's cruel, manipulative, and highly vocal in her disdain for other morphs, and people she considers lesser.  On their own, we would never really think twice about Canas' questions: of course Morphs think and feel like humans.

But then there are the exceptions.  Denning exists as a living recording of a message, and nothing else.  Kishuna is stated to be the first Morph that Nergal attempted to embed emotions into, and doesn't say or do anything aside from wander around and exude a sense of sadness.  Limstella acts coolly and rationally, and doesn't seem to engage much with anyone.  By their account, Morphs do not show emotion or thought.

How can these two types of Morphs both exist?  Do they, or do they not, feel?  As Canas asks: do they naturally feel such things, or must it be crafted?  This is an incredibly compelling question, and while each has a bit of the story to tell, I’m just going to focus on Limstella for this, and how their interactions showcase the answer the game provides.

Limstella as a Character Limstella doesn't get many interactions, but the ones they do get are important.

The big one I love is Sonia.  Sonia's unique quirk for a Morph is that she doesn't know she's not human.  As a result, Sonia acts high and mighty, and looks down on the constructs that are just tools for Nergal's use.  Sonia believes that she, and she alone, is important to Nergal, not as a tool, but as a person.  She believes whole-heartedly that Nergal needs and respects her, and that is why she's obedient.  Keep this in mind as we talk more about their interactions.

When Limstella and Sonia do talk, it is just before Chapter 26x.  Sonia is rude to Limstella, talking down to them and saying "Take heed how casually you call a human by name, you puppet."  They're interrupted by Brendan Reed, who appears to finally challenge Sonia.  He dies, but Sonia is injured in the fight.  Limstella offers to cover for her, maintaining diligence to her duty, unfazed by Sonia's comments.  After all, Morphs have no emotions.  Sonia tells Limstella to leave, she doesn't need help and is a perfect human.

Of course, after the battle, Sonia is defeated but not dead.  Limstella appears again, and in Sonia's final moments, Limstella speaks to her.

Limstella: "Sonia." Sonia: "Le--Leave me...accursed puppet...  Lord Nergal...aah...help...me." Limstella: "Puppets have no essence to harvest.  You no longer have any use to Lord Nergal..." Sonia: "What?!  What...did...  What are you...  I am human...” Limstella: "......"  *leaves* Sonia: Wait!  ...urrg!"  I am...hu...ma......"

I adore this bit. You could easily see this line as just an emotionless commentary on what Limstella's role is meant to be: collecting quintessence from the strong.  Sonia is dying, so Limstella’s come to collect.  But there's none here, so they make note of it and leave.  But consider the following points:

Use of the term "puppet," which directly echoes how Sonia has derisively referred to them, and all Morphs.

The inclusion of a comment that Sonia had no further use for Nergal.  Limstella is speaking directly to Sonia, not commentating, and they're very explicit about Sonia not having use to Nergal specifically.

Limstella knew Sonia was a Morph in advance.  Limstella doesn’t try to steal quintessence at all.  If they didn’t know, they would have tried.  Moreover, if this were just carrying out their orders, they wouldn’t have stuck around, if they knew there was nothing to harvest.  They know there's nothing to be gained.  And yet, they waited here for Sonia to fall, then showed up just to say this.

This isn't emotionless commentary.  This is a malicious act of intent.  Limstella acted of their own will, deciding to stick around, wait for Sonia to be on death’s door, all to taunt her in her final moments, spitting her own words back in her face and rubbing it in that Nergal (1) has no use for her anymore, and (2) imply that he never cared if she died at all.  That's a powerful, emotional act for a being with no emotions.

But why?  Why go to such lengths for this?  Limstella is designed to only adhere to their duty, yet they wasted their time and effort on a petty jab.  What would compel them to do this?  Think about the most powerful line Limstella has: their death quote.

"I am not human.  This body and this heart are constructs.  Yes, as is this sorrow."  This one line reveals a lot about Limstella for those who haven't been following the Morphs as closely.  In this one line, they express both that they are aware of themselves as a construct that does not feel, but simultaneously admits to feeling sorrow.  Despite this internal state of experience, Limstella denies it, stating that it all must be fake.  There can't be anything real in there.

Limstella's Sorrow and Motivation Consider this: why is it that Limstella is feeling sorrow?  You could argue it's over their own death, but that would more likely elicit fear than sorrow.  Sorrow means there's something weighing heavily upon the person.  Even as they die, something weighs on Limstella.

Further consider: prior to the battle, we get this exchange:

Nergal: "I have given you magic stronger than any seen on the continent.  Through this magic, you have gained much power.  Perfect strength and perfect beauty.  You are my masterpiece, Limstella." Limstella: "......" Nergal: "Your flesh cannot endure the power of this sorcery.  Before tomorrow, your entire body will be corrupted.  But that is what you desire, yes?  The chance to die for me?" Limstella: "As you wish."

Limstella's sorrow at her death wouldn't make sense if this were true.  If their wish were truly to fully serve Nergal, and nothing else, then they would have no need for sorrow.  They fulfilled their duty.  After all, in this exchange, Nergal expresses that Limstella will die either way, and that failure to stop the others isn't imperative.  Which means that it's not just death, and it's not failing to stop Eliwood and company.

It's leaving Nergal.  It's no longer being able to serve at his side.  Limstella doesn't comment on this, and carries out their duty as expected, but has lingering regret that they cannot persist.  It's leaving Nergal that hurts.

Think back on the Sonia interaction.  I had asked, why would Limstella go out of their way to be so petty?  Because Sonia wasn't just dismissive of Morphs.  Sonia looked down on Morphs as tools, and in so doing, implied that she was more important to Nergal, as a person.  And that's where the anger stems from.  Had it just been insults, there likely wouldn't have been a need to stick around.  But it's the ability to rub it in Sonia's face that she's not only a Morph like the others, but significantly less important to Nergal, that Limstella takes to.  More than anything, it's about showing Sonia her place, and it's beneath them.

So when it's Limstella's turn to go out and die for Nergal, there's regret.  They care deeply for Nergal, but in this moment, it’s clear the sentiment isn’t reciprocated.  After all, we have this exchange between Canas and Renault to hammer it home:

Canas: "You see, we know so little of Nergal.  Why, for example, did he begin creating Morphs?  After his falling out with the Archsage Athos, did he feel alone in the world?  Did he need the company of someone who could understand him?  Was he forced to...create...such a being?" Renault: "...not exactly." Canas: "Oh?" Renault: "He has no care for his creations...  He merely brought them into this world to serve him.  His only interest is himself.  Those...things...that he discards.  They lose their way...and wander.  And he cares not.  Morphs...are the mere fact of existence...once meaning has been stripped away."

Nergal doesn’t care.  And he hasn’t cared for as long as Renault’s known him, which is a good while at this point.  But if you got the extra chapters, we know full well this wasn't always the case for Nergal.

Nergal and Limstella Remember, other Morphs exist, and through them, we also gain some insight into the mystery of what Morphs are, and their relation to Nergal.  Kishuna has some great flashback moments, of both his creation and being discarded.  For instance, compare Chapter 23x - Genesis:

Nergal: "I name you Kishuna.  You are the only morph to whom I've given emotions.  It won't suffice simply to refer to you as a number.  It is said man was sculpted by the hands of the gods.  If so, then you, who were sculpted by these, my hands...and I, whose labors gave you breath and life...What are we, then?  What does that make us?  In your fabricated heart, which I gave unto you, what is it that you believe, Kishuna?"

with Chapter 32x - the Value of Life:

Nergal: "What do you want, monster?  You cannot fight, you cannot harvest quintessence.  Powerless and frail, you're naught but a false puppet, a pale imitation.  Is that all I was capable of creating in the past...this fool?  Absolutely worthless.  You are my blunder, my failed morph...  You are of no use to me.  Go somewhere and rot away into dust."

A great deal of time has clearly passed between these scenes, and we get the direct impression that Nergal has gone from reverence toward his success at creating a Morph with emotions, to caring nothing for their feelings and wanting to only create entities with power.

Now, considering Denning, the most recently created Morph.  He's a boss unit, and fairly strong, but exists only as a record to play.  Strength and the ability to perform this one basic function is all he needed, and all he makes them for.  But the other recent morph, Sonia, is incredibly emotional, to the point she doesn't recognize she's not human.  Nergal's power has clearly developed.  He's succeeded in being able to fully craft overt emotions in his Morphs, but selectively decides whether a Morph needs those emotions to fill an end goal; otherwise, he's created what is a pure puppet with no overt signs of anything.

However, Kishuna is Nergal's 252nd Morph, and it wasn't until then that he began actively selecting for emotions or not-emotions.  After this point, it's safe to assume that Morphs show emotions overtly based on Nergal's preference.  While it's hard to say when each Morph showed up...I think it's safe to say Limstella happened before Kishuna.

Limstella doesn't emote overtly, but at the same time clearly experiences emotion.  If, after Kishuna, Nergal selects for overt emotion or not, then Limstella, who does not overtly emote but still experiences emotion, must have come prior to having this control.  They have emotion, but it was never an intended result.  It was never part of the plan.  And if Kishuna was created with the sole purpose of creating emotions in Morphs, then it suggests not only that they pre-date Kishuna’s creation, but also that Nergal himself believes they did not feel.

On top of that, there's one other major note that's easy to miss.  Limstella is referred to as the Morph who is always at Nergal's side.  Unlike other Morphs, Nergal keeps Limstella close.  Which implies that he is attached to them.  Which is strange, right?  Since Renault notes that Nergal cares nothing for his Morphs, it's strange for him to maintain an attachment.  After all, we see that he once cared about Kishuna, but when that faded, he cast Kishuna aside without a second thought.  But he never pushes Limstella away.

This leads into heavy headcanon territory.  Bear with me.

Nergal's memories are eaten away as he creates Morphs, but certain things are retained, albeit loosely.  We see Nergal make an unintentional trip to his old workshop.  He's able to remember this place, and feels that it is significant; that something was lost here.  He just can't remember what or why.  When he dies, in the Japanese version, he says the name of his wife, not quintessence, implying that the memory of his wife exists, but in name only.  Strong attachments and powerful, emotional memories stick, devoid of context.  Given that Nergal is purely detached from his recent creations, it should be assumed that any attachment he still demonstrates, even indirectly, is because they are a powerful associated memory for him.  And wow, is he ever attached to Limstella.  More than any other, he sings their praises, referring to them as his masterpiece, and a perfect creation.  They alone receive these accolades, and a power unlike any seen on the continent.  Clearly, Limstella is important to Nergal as well.

But why?  To answer that, consider two aspects.  First: what was Nergal's motivation for creating Morphs at first?  To revive his wife.  In the Scouring, his wife was killed by humans.  Eventually, in his travels with Athos, he finds Arcadia, and discovers the forbidden art of manipulating quintessence.  He starts small but works his way up quickly to humans, which is when he needed to be stopped.  All of this, was to bring his wife back.

Second: think about Sonia.  Specifically, her appearance and role.  Sonia and Limstella are, visually, very similar.  And Sonia's role is to entice Brendan Reed.  To be, at least visually, the ideal wife.  And she looks a lot like Limstella.

Consider: what is the first thing Nergal would do, upon realizing that he can manipulate human quintessence?  He’s worked all the way up to this, it’s worth a shot, right?

I believe Limstella was Nergal's first Morph, created in an attempt to revive his wife.  Visually, Limstella must look just like her.  After all, a proper attempt means trying to get everything right.  Think of how much emotion would have gone into creating such a being.  Fear of failure, hope for success, uncertainty about his abilities, desperation to try.  So much must have went into this creation, this full attempt to revive his beloved.

And when it’s finished...there’s nothing of her.  Just a construct, visually identical, but without the love in her eyes, or any recollection.  Just...passive devotion.  Is it any wonder Nergal would consider this only a partial success?  But really, what are you going to do, get rid of it?  It’s been hundreds of years, and while you’re off, you were close.  The image is right, you just need to impart that soul, and find a greater source of power.  After all, dragons are stronger than humans, and likely require much greater quintessence.

You just got evicted from Arcadia, and it’s unlikely you can go back and steal the life force of a proper dragon, so you decide to address the emotion issue first.  You work tirelessly on new projects, trying to finally impart a proper soul to the Morphs you create.  And finally, you get it right.  Kishuna is born, and unlike the others, this is a proper step, and one deserving of a proper name.  With that task complete, you set about the search for greater power, to fuel a proper revival.  But by this point, you’ve been doing this work for a while, and dark magic takes its toll.  Memories start fading, and while you can feel the draw toward your end goals, the specifics evade you.  All you remember now is to seek power, and that any Morph not up to the task is cast aside.  But for some reason, you can’t cast aside Limstella.  They are at your side, always.  Until one day, even that fades away, and you send them off to die.

Consider this from Limstella’s perspective.  You are created, in the image of this man’s wife, with all of these powerful emotions poured into your creation.  And internally, you are devoted.  You exist to serve him, and serve you shall.  Yet for all that, he cannot acknowledge that you feel anything at all.  You are hollow, empty.  Others are created, mass-produced, in an effort to fix what was defective in you.  You follow at his side, eager to see his ambitions realized, until the day he’s so far gone that he discards you too.  You feel something, an ache in your chest, a longing you can’t place.  Yet that can’t be real.  Morphs cannot feel anything at all, and you, in particular, never could.  That was your failing all along.

Conclusion Renault: "You asked me before...whether or not Morphs had a soul.  What do you think?” Canas: "Before...I would have said that I do not know.  But now, perhaps I do...  Morphs...do have souls...that is what I believe."

This is the end of Canas and Renault’s philosophical conversation.  Morphs do have souls.  That is the answer the game provides.  Regardless of whether it’s overt or covert, all Morphs have souls.

I think Limstella's character exists as a reflection of this question, and the answer the game provides.  It’s something that, in your first playthrough, probably passes by.  At most, you wonder it yourself when Limstella speaks their last.  But on another playthrough, you start to catch the hints that something more was there.  There’s emotion, a soul, hiding within.  Which is what makes Limstella such a tragic figure.  Despite those feelings, they’re treated as a delusion, a defect, something that cannot possible exist within them, until they too believe the lie.  Limstella exists as a showcase that all living beings, regardless of origin or upbringing, possess this capacity, and is a perfect answer to the questions that Canas poses for the audience.

[frankendeers]

“I am Made of Love and It’s Stronger than You”: Steven Universe and Alternative Models of Queer Resistance in Science-Fiction.

I needed to motivate myself because I have been working on this for ages - so here, have the prospectus to my M.A thesis. Maybe you’re interested in talking about it, or reading more as the thesis is being developed?

How do we resist oppression? Even before the emergence of queer theory as an academic discipline, authors and activists alike have wondered how the persistent structures of hegemonic discourse can be opposed. Aside from important endeavours to organise and dismantle political ideology and its effect on the material world, fiction is slowly recognised as a possible tool for queer resistance. By representing marginalised groups and opening discussions about different kinds of subjectivity, fiction provides new frameworks for dreaming queer revolution. Stressing the importance of conjuring imaginative scenarios to explore societal issues, it is no surprise that the genre of Science-Fiction has risen to the challenge. Its visions of both utopian and dystopian futures speculate upon how issues of marginalisation might be dealt with going forward and is therefore meaningfully engaging with the Other.

A particularly interesting outlet for social commentary is constituted in the figure of the alien. By taking the concept of the outsider to its most literal meaning, Science Fiction is able to extricate itself from reality and use imaginary cultures to draw parallels to our own world. In some texts, the alien is meant to incite the Freudian concept of the uncanny. The relative proximity to humanity is here meant to signify cultural lines and warn the audience against transgression. In other works, the distance between human and alien is reduced further, until a certain level of identification with the strange Other is reached. This strategy is most often employed to show the alien as a bringer of progress and incite positive change in how the audience sees what it cannot understand. Due to the multiplicity of the alien’s symbolic meaning, utilising the concept to interrogate the nature of gender identity and sexual desire has been proven quite fruitful. From feminist utopias where all men go extinct to allegories of same-sex relationships, extra-terrestrial characters are useful metaphors to discern how we view queerness. More than this, the ways in which queerness is constituted in alien cultures, technologies and biologies can be utilised to point towards strategies to free marginalised groups from oppression. One recent work of Science Fiction stands out in its attempt to interrogate the nature of queerness and rebellion by employing the alien as a symbol for human society: The Cartoon Network’s children’s program Steven Universe. My paper will examine how Steven Universe reflects on queerness through alien characters and, furthermore, offers a unique model of radical empathy as a viable way to resist oppressive structures.

Steven Universe has proven to be undeniably relevant to queer discourse. The show received the Media Award for Outstanding Kids and Family Programming by the GLAAD Organisation (Gay and Lesbian Association against Defamation) in 2019 and wrote history by depicting the first on-screen queer kiss in a children’s animated program. Steven Universe focusses on its titular character, Steven, a young alien/human hybrid who learns to control his supernatural powers under the guidance of his four alien surrogate mothers: Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl. The heart of the show is constituted in Steven’s engagement with the society, biology and history of his alien heritage, an extra-terrestrial species called the Gems. Throughout the show, the plot reveals a legacy of oppression and war, with the gem’s homeworld representing imperial and fascist ideology against which his late mother has rebelled. As the story continues, Steven must realise that the ancient war his mother battled against her home planet merely resulted in a stand-still and that it is his duty to find ways for resistance.

In order to see how Steven Universe uses the alien in relation to queer identity, my paper will first reflect on how queerness is represented within the show. Although the nature of queerness is notoriously hard to articulate, it will be necessary to outline the terminology and specify how the concept is used for my specific purpose. Queerness defines itself exactly through its breaking of boundaries and blurring of conventional lines, it pertains -most commonly- to matters of sexuality, identity, gender and desire: “Broadly speaking, queer describes those gestures or analytical models which dramatize incoherencies in the allegedly stable relations between chromosomal sex, gender and sexual desire. Resisting that model or stability –which claims heterosexuality as its origin, when it is more properly its effect –queer focuses on mismatches between sex, gender and desire.” (Jagose 3). In other words, I will use queerness as a direct opposition to the hegemonic discourse, which demands stable and unchanging categories of gender, sexuality and their expressions. These demands are rooted in normative assumptions about the naturalness of heterosexuality[M3]  and rigid ideas about gender roles. Defining these boundaries, will furthermore be achieved by looking at Simone de Beavoirs The Second Sex and Judith Butler’s analysis on the performative nature of gender.

Using these definitions reveals the usefulness of Steven Universe in queer context. One outstanding detail is the fact that all gems, Steven himself excluded, are female presenting to human audiences, yet their internal gender identity remains ambiguous. Gems reproduce asexually, having no need for biological sex (or even gender) and are often even unable to grasp the concept itself. Their presentation as female is shown to be an unquestioned default, putting the dominant assumption of neutral masculinity into question. Characters like Amethyst, are shown to explore their gender on a deeper level, occasionally taking on masculine alter egos and preferring male pronouns while presenting this way. Steven himself is positioned in opposition to general notions of hegemonic masculinity. His weapons are defensive, his powers involve healing, and his design is dominated by soft shapes and the colour pink. More than that, Steven is empathetic, gentle, and shown to enjoy stereotypically feminine activities such as wearing dresses and planning weddings. His close connection to the figure of the mother queers him in more ways than one. Besides this being an unusual feature of a male-centred storyline, the asexual nature of the Gems negates his gender identity. Strangers to reproduction, the enemies mistake Steven for his mother, misgendering him and drawing direct parallels to lived experiences of transgender people. His fight against their oppressive regime is ultimately similar to the struggles of transgender people, who are fighting for recognition of their identities.

This explicit disconnection between sex and gender also means that various romances formed between main characters are visually presented as lesbian relationships, while simultaneously putting the essentialist nature of gender into question. Complex romances are put to the forefront, meant to interrogate issues of prejudice, authenticity and power relations. The character Pearl, formerly a servant of Steven’s mother, rebels against her home planet out of romantic affection for her master. The narrative presents the death of Steven’s mother as a traumatic event and invites questions of how her queer identity interacted with her liberation. On the one hand, “lesbian” affection was the cause for Pearl joining the rebellion, yet she is unable to shed her subservience to Steven’s mother. The narrative criticises her loss of self-worth, rooted in ideological indoctrination as much as romantic dependence.

Connecting multiple issues of gender and sexuality, the alien biology of the gems is infused with inherent queerness. Steven Universe’s alien race has a mechanism to question fixed identity itself: Fusion. Here, two gems perform a dancing routine to synchronise with each other until they fuse to form a new entity altogether. Most often employed as a strategy to gain strength in battle, fusion is also shown to be a deeply intimate and emotional matter. The resulting character is physically and mentally an amalgam of the two (or more Gems) who created them. In this way, fusion functions as an exploration of identity and relationships, deeply queer in matters of gender and sexual desire. One fusion particularly stands out when analysing gender fluidity: The fusion of Stevonnie comes into existence when Steven, and his best friend Connie fuse. Stevonnie is explicitly stated and shown to be nonbinary and intersex.  They are capable, relatable and even shown to be desirable in the eyes of other characters. The fact that Steven and Connie break with gender conventions by switching masculine and feminine roles, makes analysing Stevonnie all the more fruitful. Stevonnie is also far from the only nonbinary fusion of the show. Throughout the seasons, Steven fuses with multiple gems, resulting in an array of nonbinary characters of vastly different gender representations and pronouns.

The show’s revolutionary approach is reinforced by the fact that the gem’s planet, simply called Homeworld, practically operates under a fascist dictatorship. Its society is made up of different types of gems, created for distinct purposes they are meant to fulfil without question. Remarkably, Homeworld explicitly forbids fusion between two different types of gems. Overstepping this line is not only cause for scandal but punishable by death. The show presents this as a thinly veiled allegory for the oppressed nature of LGBT relationships in the real world. In relation to that, the show examines themes of queer oppression and queer resistance in the character of Garnet. Garnet is a permanently fused gem, made up of Ruby and Sapphire who chose to rebel against Homeworld. Their romantic relationship is not weakened by its metaphorical nature, as Ruby and Sapphire’s visual resemblance to women is a constant reminder of its queerness.

As the show progresses, Steven is forced to confront Homeworld and decide upon strategies for liberation. Here, the show is ambivalent towards the usage of physical force. On the one hand, the war for independence fought by the rebellion five thousand years ago, is shown to have been effective in fighting against Homeworld’s armies. However, it also wiped out nearly all the rebellious gems and has ultimately only achieved a temporary peace. Contrarily, Steven’s innate empathy and deep desire to engage with whom he opposes is presented as inciting long-lasting change. Not only pertaining to his personality, but also encoded in his alien biology, Steven has the power to feel the emotions of his enemies. As he recognises physical force as inevitable in some instances, the real shift always occurs due to him trying to understand his opponents on an emotional level. The show hereby raises the complicated question of how to consolidate liberation and a need to cease the perpetuation of violence, offering radical empathy as a possible solution. Radical empathy, as the idea to resist oppression through understanding, is negating the more masculine realm of physical fight. Using a male character to introduce this idea, is already marked as queer. Nevertheless, radical empathy is also a contested subject and it will be necessary to evaluate how Steven Universe answers to the possibility of its ineffectiveness in queer liberation discourse. For this purpose, I will employ, among others, Jack Halberstam’s theories on Queer Violence in media and Lee Edelman’s No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive. Both will be used to examine whether the progressive politics of Steven Universe can truly be used as an advocate for queer resistance, or if they promote liberalism and complacency.

In conclusion, my paper will examine how the concept of the alien is shown to be queer in Steven Universe, and how alien society is utilised as a metaphor for real-world queer discourse. It will further attempt to outline the different models of resistance brought forth by the show and address criticism towards its compliance with systemic injustice and accusations of demonising more violent forms of revolution.

  Bibliography: (Preliminary)

Primary Texts:

Steven Universe. Cartoon Network. 2013-2019.

Secondary Texts:

Beauvoir, Simone de. The Second Sex. New York: Vintage Books 1989, c1952. Print.

Butler, Judith. Undoing Gender. New York: Routledge, 2004.

Dunn, Eli. “Steven Universe, Fusion Magic, and the Queer Cartoon Carnivalesque.” Gender Forum: An Internet Journal of Gender Studies, vol. 56, 2016, pp. 44–57.

Edelman, Lee. No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive. , 2004. Print.

Jagose, Annamarie. Queer Theory: An Introduction. New York: New York University Press, 1996. Print.

Halberstam, Judith. “Imagined Violence/Queer Violence: Representation, Rage, and Resistance.” Social Text, no. 37, 1993, pp. 187–201.

Hollinger, Veronica. “(Re)Reading Queerly: Science Fiction, Feminism, and the Defamiliarization of Gender.” Science Fiction Studies, vol. 26, no. 1 [77], Mar. 1999, pp. 23–40.

Lothian, Alexis. “Feminist and Queer Science Fiction in America.” The Cambridge Companion to American Science Fiction, edited by Eric Carl Link and Gerry Canavan, Cambridge University Press, 2015, pp. 70–82.

Melzer, Patricia. Alien Constructions: Science Fiction and Feminist Thought. University of Texas Press, 2006.

Merrick, Helen. “Gender in Science Fiction.” The Cambridge Companion to Science Fiction, edited by Edward James and Farah Mendlesohn, Cambridge University Press, 2003, pp. 241–252.

Moore, Mandy Elizabeth "Future Visions: Queer Utopia in Steven Universe," Research on Diversity in Youth Literature: 2.1, 2019.

Pawlak, Wendy Sue. “The Spaces between: Non-Binary Representations of Gender in Twentieth-Century American Film.” Dissertation Abstracts International, vol. 73, no. 11, U of ArizonaProQuest, May 2013.

Pearson, Wendy Gay. “Queer Theory.” The Routledge Companion to Science Fiction, edited by Mark Bould et al., Routledge, 2009, pp. 298–307.

Pearson, Wendy Gay. “Science Fiction and Queer Theory” Published as a book chapter in: The Cambridge Companion to Science Fiction. Edward James and Farah Mendlesohn. (Eds.), 2003. Pp. 149-160.

Roqueta Fernandez, Marta “Posthumanism and the creation of racialised, queer identities and sexualities: An analysis of ‘Steven Universe’” Monográfico: Nuevas Amazonas, 2.7, 2019. Pp. 48-84.

Thomas, Misty. “‘I am a Conversation’: Media Literacy, Queer Pedagogy, and Steven Universe in College Curriculum”. Dialogue: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Popular Culture and Pedagogy, 6.3, 2019.

Valentin, Al. “Using the Animator’s Tools to Dismantle the Master’s House? Gender, Race, Sexuality and Disability in Cartoon Network’s Adventure Time and Steven Universe.” Buffy to Batgirl: Essays on Female Power, Evolving Femininity and Gender Roles in Science Fiction and Fantasy, edited by Julie M. Still et al., McFarland & Company Publishing, 2019, pp. 175–215.

[starkerforlife6969]

Nerd Tony x Popular Peter, High school AU

Tony can’t stop staring at him.

Across the classroom, near the window where Peter Parker is bathed in afternoon sunlight and shimmering like an enchanted thing of beauty. With his perfect coffee curls and his hazel eyes and his effortless grace, Tony feels lust coil hot and tight in the pit of his gut.

Peter, who’s scribbling away at his paper, looks up as though he can sense eyes on him, and looks across the classroom.

Tony snaps his eyes back down to his desk guiltily; hot shame rising up to his cheeks, before sneaking another look to see Peter still looking over at him; perfect pink lips lifted into a smile.

Tony tries to smile back, but he thinks it comes out as a distorted grimace and he hates himself.

Is it not enough that Peter is the most obscenely beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life? But does he have to be so nice? The popular clique, the ones that roam the halls of high school exuding confidence and superiority. The ones who never have to worry about anything, the ones that everyone else lower down in the food chain simultaneously hates and envies- why does Peter have to be the only one who is nice?

Tony, a surly outcast who doesn’t care for interacting with his peers, eats alone most of the time. Sometimes he camps out in the biology rooms at lunch with a boy from the year above named Bruce, but most of the time he likes to be by himself. A lone wolf. He feels above all the high school drama- transcended because he knows that this is just a temporary state. What happens here and now doesn’t matter. Tony won’t ever fit in here. This is not his arena. His arena will be just after college, then he’ll start living his life and he’ll be popular and rich and as confident as he likes without having to worry about getting shoved into lockers by jocks who think that just because they can catch a ball they’re better than him.

But Peter Parker makes him…

Makes his blood run hot. Makes him want to engage in the stupid, so so stupid little scenarios. Makes him want to text until his fingers ache, makes him consider cramming love letters into the boy’s locker or maybe even hoping against hope to end up getting partnered with him in something again like they were in English a while ago.

But Tony isn’t special.

Everyone thinks Peter is beautiful. The boy may be small in stature but he has the face of an angel, and he lives on the rich side of town, he has perfect skin, and he’s on the cheerleading squad and he hosts supposedly phenomenal parties at his mansion whenever his parents are away. Peter extends invitations to everyone but Tony never ever goes. Most of the student body lusts after him, but Tony-

Tony thinks he can see a little more. He and Peter share practically all the same classes, and even though Peter seems on the surface like another pretty boy living on the highest rungs of society, though he seems like just another cheerleader, just another person who comes to school in a shiny red camaro in expensive clothes- he’s also…

He’s also in every AP class, and he has a grade point average that almost rivals Tony’s. He’s never missed a day of school and he never skips out on lessons and he gives all his teachers handwritten thank you notes at the end of each year.

And instead of ignoring Tony, or sneering at him, or shoving him into a locker, Peter every so often, gives him that gorgeous, heart stopping smile.

But then the end of class comes, and he can only watch as Peter and the rest of the other beautiful people stand up and leave. Tony lingers, waiting until the room is practically empty before packing up his things and going to find Bruce.

Homecoming is an ever-present shadow that lurks on the cusp of the horizon.

Tony tries to stay above rumours, really he does, but even he can’t help hearing, as he collects his physics books, as a number of students whisper about how Peter Parker rejected William’s request.

“He said he was going to ask someone,” a girl whispers, and Tony cocks his head, straining to hear:

“Really? Ask who?”

“Maybe he has a boyfriend who doesn’t go here. He’s probably dating an older guy.”

“That’s so unfair. Maybe it was just an excuse not to go with William. Maybe he’s waiting for someone else to ask?”

“Do you think I should?”

“I would pay to see that!”

Tony tries to ignore it, but instead he obsesses over it. He’s not going to Homecoming because it’s all superfluous and he doesn’t need to put himself through it. His mom had looked sad when he told her, but she’d ultimately understood and Tony had tried to reassure her. This doesn’t matter. None of it matters, and even though he has reoccurring dreams about walking into the hall with Peter on his arm, even though he thinks about wearing his dad’s old tux with staples in the sleeves, even though the thought of slow dancing with the only boy in school that manages to hold his attention seems to torment him every waking moment of the day- none of it matters.

He’s in the middle of eating a tuna sandwich and trying very hard not to get fish stuck in his braces when the entire cafeteria falls into a hush.

It’s unnerving, and he looks up curiously, expecting to see…honestly, he’s not sure, but he doesn’t expect to see Peter Parker standing at his table; heart stoppingly gorgeous in a silky red bomber jacket embroidered with green flowers, and a low cut v-neck black top and light wash jeans. He’s not expecting to see Peter looking at him, pink on his cheeks and glitter in his eyes. “Tony?” Peter asks quietly, but it seems exceedingly loud in the amazed quiet of the canteen.

Tony swallows a hard lump of tuna and stares in amazement. He almost wants to clean the dust smudges off his glasses to make sure he’s seeing things clearly. “Uh…hi?” He manages, croaking a little and instantly glowing scarlet as Peter smiles beside him. Peter’s voice is smooth as velvet; Tony’s still cracks here and there on certain words. 

“I was wondering if you were going to Homecoming?”

What-how-Tony’s brain isn’t working right. He feels like a complete mess in the face of Peter’s elegance. “I…I wasn’t planning on it?” He forces out and Peter nods like this is what he expected, a few perfect curls tumbling into his forehead.

“I was thinking, um, maybe if you decided to go we could…” he shrugs, a small, hopeful smile on his face as he tips his head, “we could go together? If you want.”

The words don’t compute. Nothing really makes sense. He sets down his sandwich and tries not to melt under the thousand eyes looking over at them. He glances at Peter suspiciously; his heart pounding. “Is this…” he whispers, barely audible to his own ears, “is this a joke?” Fuck Peter, if it is. He’s just like all the others-

“What?” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowing together in adorable confusion. “What? No, Tony, I…I’m not joking.”

He sounds so sincere, but surely he can’t be. “We’ve never even talked,” Tony points out, “why would you want to..?”

Peter’s cheeks go even pinker and he ducks his head. “I mean- no, you’re right really, but I just- remember when we were paired up last semester in English? I just- I don’t know, you’re really…I thought we had fun.”

Peter remembers that? Tony had thought that the connection between them was entirely one-sided. He’d thought that Peter was just nice to him the way he was nice to everyone. But did he- did he feel how Tony felt about it? All flushed and excited because Peter Parker was sitting next to him and laughing at his jokes and- that was more than just politeness? He swallows hard, and nods jerkily. “No! No, yeah,” he stutters out, “that was fun.”

Peter smiles again; serene and breathtaking. “I get Homecoming might not be your scene, so maybe we could do something else? Um- you like sci-fi movies, right?”

Tony does love sci-fi movies, and his heart skips a beat over the fact that Peter remembers him saying that. Is this even possible? Could he see a sci-fi movie with Peter Parker? And yet…he should rise above it, really he should, but there’s something about the boy before him that- that makes him want to buy a carnation and hold Peter’s hand and smile with shiny metal on his teeth as his mom takes a photo on their old, beaten up camera. “Homecoming,” Tony whispers definitively, “homecoming would be- that would be nice.”

“Cool,” Peter whispers back; a smile in his voice, as he nods at Tony, and shoots him a little wave, before heading back to the table with the rest of them.

The cafeteria breaks back out into noise.

A little part of Tony continues not to believe it. Why wouldn’t he? He’s too smart to actually believe whole-heartedly that Peter Parker would want him. Why would he? Tony’s skin is still bumpy from puberty, and his braces make his lips all chapped and his glasses are too big for his face and he dresses like he just doesn’t give a crap (because he’s saving all his effort for when he’s older, for when he’s made it and if he pretends like he doesn’t care about having nice clothes, his mom won’t feel so guilty over not being able to afford them and he never, ever wants her to feel guilty).

He holds onto the hope, but carries the skepticism, and it only really goes away when Peter Parker steps into his house and gives Tony’s mother a box of chocolates and trips over the threshold because he’s so nervous.

The skepticism disappears completely when Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck under the cheesy disco ball to some pop song from the 80s and Tony’s hands shake as they settle on Peter’s waist and he’s certain he’s sweating like a pig, and Peter whispers into his ear, almost hidden by the music:

“I’m so glad you said yes,”

Tony holds him tighter; trembling and petrified and excited because he knows this is going to change everything. People are giving them looks, emotions range from surprise to utter confusion. “Why me?” He manages to choke out into Peter’s hair, and the boy pulls back to look up at him. Because it’s obvious to anyone in the world why Tony would like Peter, but why does Peter- why would he want some surly, easily annoyed nerd?

“You make me happy,” Peter says simply, one of his hands stroking through Tony’s short hair. “And I think there’s more to you than what everyone else sees.”

His heart clenches and flips with excitement. “I feel- I feel the same about- about you-“ he gushes and Peter laughs, burying his face into Tony’s sweaty neck.

When he gets home, his mom eagerly demands to know every single detail and instead of hiding in his room with his computer, he sits down and drinks the hot chocolate she makes in front of the fire, and tells her everything.

He almost doesn’t sleep that night because for the first time in a long time, he’s excited to go to school and see what might happen. 

[demeteroh]

Conflicting Loyalties (Part 3)

Based on a dream I had a while ago + some prompting from my friend Anna. Tell me if you think it should be a love story, and who with.

A bit is revealed about Mero’s father and herself. Plot pace will pick up I promise.

Warnings: abandonment, stereotypes (bias, fantasy racism?? I suppose that is what it is), mild gore and battle scenes. More will be added as the story progresses.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. If you see mistakes please let me know, but if you are rude I will ignore. 

Conflicting Loyalties Masterlist

To be a Took meant many things, not all of them important but all of them delivered with a slight degree of impertinence. The inherited audaciousness of the family and their incalculable wealth simultaneously put them a step above every other hobbit and several steps below. As is so often common with a family that has too many children to keep track of (for some this is three, for other more competent families this number can range from five to ten, and in the case of the Took’s this is twelve children and copious amounts of grandchildren) some members are left to do as they please with little to no supervision. This, more often than not, creates an entirely unapproved of reputation. In the matter of the Tooks, it further solidified what inhabitants of the Shire had known quite some years - they were the least hobbit-like hobbits within their borders.

It meant something very different to be a Baggins.

However, despite their rambunctious personalities and their uncanny ability to disappear only to resurface after several months, the Tooks were still hobbits at heart, and so knew how to behave in certain company. Any self-respecting hobbit (and the Tooks were self-respecting, even if it was in an entirely different way to most others) knew that when in a stranger's house there are rules that needed to be followed. One does not enter the home without invitation, nor do they help themselves to anything in the pantry nor touch anything they don't have explicit permission to touch. These rules, though bent by many friends and families, were abided by anyone who had ever spent long enough in the Shire to know that hobbits are exceptionally private creatures.

It was obvious that the dwarves weren't even aware the Shire existed until they stumbled into its borders earlier that day. Like children that had yet been taught their proper manners they could not discern that excuse me meant stop that at once, or that if you don't mind usually means do as I say or so help me. Within moments of entering Bag End, Fili and Kili had picked up the dining room table and moved it into the large section of the hallway just before it. Sweet Bilbo was trying to find a way to politely tell the dwarves to stop touching his things and get out of his house.

The doorbell rang out again, startling Bilbo into a shout. "No, no, there's nobody home!"

Mero watched, startled as her level-headed cousin - level-headed by all hobbit's standards, not just Took standards - practically stomped through his house to the front door. She followed, if not only to make sure he didn't have a meltdown then because curiosity gripped her again. Gandalf this time, she thought with little hope, ready to apologise and gift us something nice to make up for the commotion.

"Go away and bother somebody else," Bilbo continued, pushing a pile of dwarf-belongings out of his way. Mero almost stopped to investigate the silver glint she saw but her sensibility warned her to keep close to Bilbo. "There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is."

"They've actually moved to the hall," Mero observed, looking behind her. "Something curious about others and the room they will need."

"If this - if this is some blockhead's idea of a joke," shouted Bilbo, his stress rising with every step he took towards the round door. Had Mero known that Gandalf would not appear at their door at four on the dot, made polite chit-chat then left at the most two hours later with well wishes and promises to come again, she shouldn't have thought she would invite him. Perhaps tea meant something different to wizards, or maybe Gandalf was bored and needed amusement. He had said so the day before. "I can only say, it is in very poor taste."

And the door was ripped open with a force it had never seen before, reminding Mero suddenly that Bilbo had as much Took in him as she did, a frightful thought. Mero could not dwell on it for more than a moment, though, because a pile of dwarves fell very abruptly on the floor at their feet.

Taking a surprised step back, Mero gripped Bilbo’s forearm. She counted eight dwarves (afterwards she wondered how ever she managed to stay so calm) all piled up on top of each other and groaning and moaning. It could be amusing were she not so perturbed by the events unfolding around her.

“Oh,” she said, blinking rapidly as the dwarves struggled to get to their feet. Against her better judgement - and most definitely against what Bilbo wanted her to do at that moment - she offered her hand to the nearest dwarf. “Take my hand, you may catch a cold if you spend too much time on the ground. The pebble in the flower patch knows that a nasty cough has been going around.”

The phrase startled the dwarf into taking her hand, allowing her to keep his balance as he hauled himself up with a perplexed look. Mero’s father had been full of curious sayings, many of which Mero herself used in his absence. The other hobbits had learnt what most of them meant and often left Mero alone to her strange talk. It somewhat pleased her to see that the dwarf would react to them with something other than disdain.

“Nori, at your service,” the dwarf said, sweeping into a bow. She was unsure of if she should bow as well, for she had not bowed once in her short life, so just nodded her head in response.

”Mero, at yours,” she replied, moving to assist the other dwarves, not liking how they regarded her with unabashed curiosity. It was rare in the Shire for someone not to know her entire life story, so the scrutiny of someone who did not even know her name made her mightily uncomfortable. She busied herself with assisting them to distract from the uneasiness growing in her stomach. It wasn’t long before she had a pile of dwarven belongings bundled in her arms, ranging from swords to hoods to curious instruments. For the first time that warm evening Mero wondered if it was entirely wise to allow these people into their peaceful home - they were not hobbits, after all, and one always has to be cautious when dealing with other races, especially dwarves.

She spent longer out by the door than she should have. It was impolite not to interact with her guests, but there was something about them that unnerved her. It was probably best that she pretend to be busy putting away their things in order to regain her earlier comfort than to stand uncomfortably among them. Her father had always said there was no shame in taking some time to herself even when duty called her to do otherwise. He had always been wise like that, not in the way of an average hobbit or even a Took, but in a way that was uniquely his. Mero hoped she would take after him in that respect.

Mero was incredibly like her father. She took after him in looks (at least she assumed she did, for everyone always made mention of how similar they looked) and Belladonna had often remarked that they acted in similar ways. It was often said with a sigh in between lectures, and afterwards, she would curse her older brother for being as he was. Young Mero could never quite grasp that her aunt meant it as anything but a compliment. Like so many other hobbit children, her father was the centre of her universe, though he was there for such a short time. He lived just long enough to instil a sense of adventure in her and a headstrong loyalty to him and his favourite sibling and by extension Bilbo and his father Bungo.

It is this thought that propels Mero into the makeshift dining room, determined to engage one of the dwarves in conversations of their home and life.

She bumped into Bilbo before she could make it to where the dwarves were sitting eating. At least, she thought they were eating, though the noise of laughter and the view of flying food might suggest otherwise. Her sweet cousin was quite gobsmacked, rocking backwards and forwards like he may say something to the dwarves but was thinking better of it. It took her just a moment to realise they had cleared out Bilbo's main pantry, leaving the hobbit to stare dismally at the crumbs left on the shelves.

Mero could not help herself. She laughed heartily, in the way that only Mero did. It was a warming laugh, bouncing off the walls and casting a glow over her and Bilbo like it had when she was young. It reached out and hugged him, wrapping him in the childlike bursts of giggles, pulling his thoughts away from the dwarves and focusing them on the hilarity of the situation. It all at once made Bilbo want to join her and stomp his feet to get her to stop. But the light airy sound soon won out, bringing him to chuckle with her.

"Oh, Bilbo," she said, no longer laughing but her voice laced with amusement. The corners of her eyes were crinkled into the smile that always brought joy to him, reminding him that not everything had to be so serious. "A pantry that is without food signals a life that should soon want not."

"Another of your father's sayings?" Bilbo asked, not needing Mero to answer. He knew she delighted in speaking of her late father so at every chance he got he allowed the conversation to turn to him.

"Who else would say such wonderful things, dear cousin."

“You say sufficiently mad things," Bilbo reminded her. She laughed again. this one shorter and more self-mocking.

"I wager you shall stand out here and stare forlornly at your foodless shelves instead of joining in the merrymaking," Mero said, placing a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. When Bilbo made no reply, she continued. "I am uncertain as to their reasons for being here, Bilbo, but I do intend to find out."

"You can find out all you want," Bilbo said, his words harsh with stress. "I shan't be joining you."

Mero tilted her head at him. For more than a moment, Bilbo thinks he has upset his cousin, an occasion he desperately tries to avoid. But then, she is smiling again, touching his shoulder and looking at the dwaves that descended on them. She looks like Bilbo’s mother when she is deep in thought.

”I think they’re going on an adventure, Bilbo,” she said, quiet now. Bilbo observed the dwarves as well, a strange something stirring in the pit of his stomach. Mero felt it too, then, the restlessness of these foreigners.

”You know, I think you might be right.”

[andromytta]

What’s a Snookie?

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 20 | andromytta vs. @inter-ruptingmoose

Prompt: Ice Cream Cones

Ship: Claire Novak/Kevin Tran

Word Count: 1631

No Archive Warnings Apply. Tags: 

Fluff and Humor

Snookie may be OOC

fanboy dean

boardw

Summary:  Two families go on vacation to celebrate getting into Princeton. Two soon to be Ivy Leaguers realize they have a common passion.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498963

Written for @spngenrebingo  Square Filled:  Free Fluff

Claire Winchester-Novak was going to have the greatest two weeks of her life.  Her dads were taking her and her best friend, Alex Hanscomb-Mills, to the Jersey Shore to celebrate her getting a full ride to Princeton.  It also worked out well for Alex’s moms, who were in Europe taking a second honeymoon.  Claire couldn’t think of a better way to spend the time between high school and college than with her favorite people in the world.

Three days into their trip, the four of them were walking along the boardwalk, as they had done the days previous.  Claire and Dean were in the middle, with Castiel next to Dean and Alex next to Claire. Claire suddenly looks up at her dad and says, “Hey!  Do you think we’ll be blessed with a Snookie sighting?”

“What’s a Snookie?” Castiel and Alex asked simultaneously.

Dean and Claire shared a love of trash TV that the others just didn’t get.  Dr. Sexy, MD and Jersey Shore were their favorites to binge watch, and they were both fans of Snookie.  When the reality show star had a guest role on Dr. Sexy, they wouldn’t stop talking about it for days.  Clearly no one was paying attention.

“Actually, Kiddo,” Dean began as he pulled something up on his phone and held it up to her, “we are definitely getting a Snookie sighting today, and an autograph.”

Claire excitedly grabbed his phone out of his hand as she read the screen.  “She’s doing a book signing?  Here?  At the boardwalk?  And you’re taking me?  You are the best dad ever!”  She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek before handing his phone back.

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Castiel asked from the other side of his husband.

“Ok, fine, you’re an awesome dad too,” Claire replied and kissed his cheek as well.

“Ugh.  I think I’m going to puke!” Alex announced from Claire’s other side.

“Hey, just because Jody and Donna dumped you with us instead of taking you Europe is no reason to rain on our happy family parade, young lady,” Dean quipped.

Alex dropped her head in her hand and groaned.  “Why do I even know you people?”

Claire slung an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.  “Because you love me, and you know I come with dork dad baggage.”

“Hey, I thought we were awesome!” Dean protested.

Claire shrugged.  “I’m a teenaged girl.  My affections are fickle.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Once I get you to Snookie, I’ll be awesome again.”

“It’s possible.”

***

Elsewhere on the boardwalk, Kevin Tran and his mother Linda were also taking a holiday to celebrate his own full ride to Princeton.  Kevin was currently pleading with his mom to take him to the aforementioned bookstore.

“I can’t believe with your limited exposure to television for one hour a week, you spent it watching trash television!  What else did you watch?  That horribly inaccurate Dr. Sexy, MD?  You could have been watching National Geographic.”

“Mo-om!  I have to rest my brain somehow!  Relaxation is just as important for neurological development as study is.  Man cannot live on caviar alone!”

“Ok, fine, we’ll go see this Snookie.  You did work hard all through high school, and you’ll be working even harder once you start college.  I suppose you deserve your hobbies.”

“Great!  Let’s go!”  Kevin practically dragged his mom down the boardwalk towards the bookstore.

They made short work of their journey, and soon Kevin found himself standing in line to meet the reality star of his dreams.  His mother was standing off to the side, trying to look stern, but failing miserably, her son’s joy bringing a smile to her face.  Kevin was bouncing on the balls of his feet and trying to see the autograph table over the crowd, paying no mind to the line forming behind him.

Claire and Dean arrived around the same time, standing in line while Castiel and Alex stood off to the other side, rolling their eyes fondly.  Claire had her back to the person in front of her as she was animatedly talking to Dean about their favorite Snookie moments.  “Remember when she was on Dr. Sexy and she played a ghost, but being transparent didn’t take away from her sassiness and she was like…” Claire was gesturing wildly and didn’t notice when she took a step back and ran right into the back of Kevin Tran.

“Hey, watch it…” Kevin started just as Claire turned around to apologize.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” The words trailed off as their eyes locked, blue to brown.  Claire was the first to break the silence.  “Um, hi.  I’m Claire.” She offered her hand to him to shake.

He gulped and accepted the proffered hand.  “Kevin, uh, my name…that’s my name.”

Claire smiled brightly at him.  “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”

Dean not-so-subtly pulled their still clasped hands apart.  “I’m Claire’s Dad.  Nice to meet you,” he grumped as he shook hands with the stunned boy.

“Um…hi Claire’s Dad…” Panic started to fill his chocolate eyes as Dean continued to shake his hand aggressively.

“Dad, stop,” Claire ordered, removing his hand and pushing him back.

As the line crept forward, Claire engaged in small talk with the cute boy in front of her, much to Dean’s dismay.  He tried to join the conversation multiple times, but backed off when Claire scowled at him, so he resigned himself to standing behind her and pouting.  He wasn’t able to engage his daughter’s attention again until they were at the autograph table.

Claire was first.  “Oh my God.  You’re amazing, I love you so much.  You were my favorite on Dancing With the Stars,” Claire gushed as her book was signed.  “My dad brought me because I got into Princeton,” she continued on.  Snookie signed her book “Congrats on the Ivy League. Love, Nicole.”  Claire stared at her book as she was waiting for Dean.

“Uh, hi, um, Nicole. You’re so pretty,” he stammered awkwardly as he presented his own copy of her book.

Claire interrupted. “That’s my dad.  Sorry he’s such an old skeezer.”

“I dunno, he’s kinda cute,” she replied as she started to sign.  “You got a name, Daddio?”

“Dean.  My name’s Dean.”

She finished signing and handed his book back.  “Here you go, Hot Stuff.”  She winked at him as he clutched the book to his chest and backed away.

Dean was so stunned by his interaction that he didn’t even notice when Claire wandered off with Kevin. In a daze, he found where Castiel and Alex had been waiting for them.  “Snookie thinks I’m cute,” he said to Castiel.

“Well, that makes one of us,” his husband replied dryly.

“Shut up, you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do,” Cas said as he looked around for their daughter.  “Dean, where’s Claire?”

Alex chuckled as she spoke up.  “Over there with that cute boy she bumped into in the line.”  She pointed to where the two were ducking out the door.  “Oh great, now I’m stuck with the Dork Dads.”

***

Claire giggled as she and Kevin ducked out of the store, ditching their parents.  “Hmmm, I guess I should feel bad stranding Alex with my dads,” she said as they made their way down the boardwalk.

“Alex?  Is that your boyfriend?” Kevin asked nervously.

“No, Alex is a girl,” Claire replied vaguely.

“Oh, so your girlfriend?”

“Haha.  No, just my best friend.  More like a sister.  My girlfriend and I broke up after her mom died and she had to move away.”

“So, you’re single?” Kevin fished for information.

“Yep.  You?”

“Uh, yeah.  Ever since my girlfriend went crazy and slit her roommate’s throat.  I’m pretty sure she got possessed by a demon.”

“Wow.  Creepy.  So, what do you say we go get some ice cream?”  Claire’s ability to gloss over the most uncomfortable situation with food was surely a habit she picked up from Dean.

“Oh, uh, ok.  Sure.”

They walked to a little ice cream stand a few blocks away from the bookstore.  Claire ordered the “Napoleon,” a giant waffle cone filled with five scoops of whatever flavors she wanted.  Kevin paid, even though he didn’t get anything but water.  They sat at a nearby bench and when Kevin tried to dip a spoon into Claire’s cone, she pulled it away.  

“Dude!  If you wanted ice cream, you should have ordered some!”

“But, I thought you were going to share.  Especially when you asked me what kind of ice cream to get.”

“I was looking for a suggestion, not offering you my treat.”

“Rude!  I bought it!” Kevin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok, fine.  You can have a bite.  One bite, from this layer.”  She pointed at the third scoop down, a blue one with multicolored bits throughout.

“Awesome, bubblegum. I always wanted to try that flavor.” Kevin helped himself to a hearty spoonful of the confection.

“Hey, not so much!” Claire protested with a laugh.

Kevin grinned at her and went in for another bite.  “So, Claire, what would you say if I asked you out for dinner and movie?”

“I’d ask what’s for dinner and what movie?”

“Hmmm….” Kevin made a show of thinking deeply.  “Burgers and the new Marvel film?”

“Make it Star Wars or no deal.”

“Done.  Saturday night?”

“Done.  We’re staying at the Palms, room 210.  Pick me up at 7?”

“Hey, so are we. 310.”

Claire looked at him, shy for the first time.  “We could walk back together?”

“Ok.”  Kevin stood up and reached for her hand.  

She let him pull her up and they were met with three pairs of stern parent eyes: blue, green, and brown. Alex stood off to the side with her arms crossed over her chest.  “Busted,” she chuckled at them.

[rennyji]

July 20th tweets...

July 20th tweets...

---

“Aaryan” is another one of those Mohanlal movies from the place of my background. I saw this late in life, and during the phenomena, several times, I would mention to my mother, and especially father, about the parallels. In the movie, Mohanlal’s character is a devout Hindu Brahmin from a respected family. He’s happy with his life and has a girlfriend, in a woman he’s known since childhood. Men not respecting societal roles and in greed for money and power, wrongfully set up the family in a crime of their planning. Mohanlals character loses his family to death and humiliation, as well as his home, and his girl friend also, in the actress, Shobhana. He flees to Mumbai, where he follows a very earthly path centered on money and attaining that money through jobs, where his philosophy is “Ill do anything for money.” He sinks himself in alcohol and the company of gangsters and joins them. Once obtaining enough money, he avenges the wrong doers against his family and seeks to restore his family’s lifestyle and “way of living.”

I guess I remember that movie because he was minding his own business, when people rooted in jealousy and greed, wanted to steal that from him. And me, after more than a decade of “lightly and carefully portrayed to the public” abuse, I can’t help but think, wasn’t I minding my own business?

For my sectionalistic brethrens who identify through the body parts, rather than the overall body that is the country, as you forgot about order, structure, unity, brought about through ancient Hinduism, for a visual example: think the movie, “Koyla.” Shah Rukh Khans character get turned into a mute and a servant by the people who killed his parents, from greed, for stumbling on their fortune of diamonds in this life. To save Madhuri Dhixits character, and to restore his dignity, he takes revenge on those who took decades of his life. I guess what I’m getting at is, from Koyla, you can see just how evil some men truly are. Even in real life, some people will take decades from your life. Before killing you, they’ll turn you into the court jester for their people and they may even shock your brains 20 times to make you more numb and compatible for mind control/mind reading.

---

In Mark 4:33-34

33 “With many such parables he spoke ithe word to them, as they were able to hear it. 34 He did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything.So Christ talked to everyone in parables, and said, let those with ears hear. However he discussed the parables with his disciples, in private, elaborating on their meaning.Here I am, in the present day, a nobody, trying to elaborate on meanings and about living a life with meaning. But my own mother, instead of listening intently, will talk about toilets or do something involving uncleanliness, when I talk to her about things of God. My father prays and prays (though mechanically, without heart, without understanding meaning), and yet he fails to see and respect my seriousness in willful words and actions, based on faith. He’s so busy talking about defending what he as a father does, he fails to see that I’m enduring this, simply because of the hand of God carrying me, when the infidel tries to figuratively break my legs.I can see why Christ elaborated on heavenly things with just his disciples. Other people wouldn’t give it the respect it deserves (through talking about random things like toilets or whatever) or would let it fly over their heads as something nice sounding and tantalizing.

---

Orchestrator government group 1 tries to piss me off to say things or write things about them, so that the child like voices rooted in perhaps the party school I attended (for completion of my undergraduate) makes it about them or me randomly addressing people who aren’t direct with me.

---

I dunno I think I’m being led to think that I’m not seeing “this situation” in the way it’s projected to others…ok guys, lemme walk with you on this, let’s take a deep breath and digest the fact that this has been going on for more than a decade- I mean that alone, if nothing else, is horrendous…so am I disillusioned?

---

So I keep telling you guys to refrain from taking part in this, and to only help me by talking directly to me- especially about the situation. I tell you take a load off and just be natural in your interactions without hiding that this happened/is happening.

Yet, for one thing, some of you may try to assist me on the road under one or more things that you have been led to see me through- that goes back to my talk about mental filters…

If something tells you guys that I’m about to change a lane unnaturally, it results in the following:

The guy in front of me will abruptly slow down, while I’m checking my mirrors to the other lane, leaving me to still drive forward, while the guy in front of me is instructed to slow down. Kinda malicious of the orchestrators, don’t you think? Two cars risk colliding…

But then sometimes, I notice cars in the other lanes, accelerate, as I’m about to change lanes, while others leave significant space.

Please just follow the rules of the road and stop relying on external knowledge when making your decisions on the road.

Some of you may be instructed to smile a particular way (smiling is great if it’s not rooted in an instruction), frown a particular way, nod to me from the corner of my eye…see, think about it from my perspective. I have mind cr*p- to be very very very general- to deal with all day. When you have too many programs open on your computer, doesn’t it freeze or become unresponsive? Whether by design or carelessness, despite my effort to get you to be direct with me, these indirect things to make me think one thing or the other, are meant to overload my brain-the orchestrators just give me stuff to pick up on, where I have no idea what’s it’s about. I may have written something before that frown or whatever. Is that supposed to make me think ur unhappy with me for you allegedly eavesdropping into my life and making things about you, the stranger,  when you don’t even follow me on Twitter or Facebook?

---

I heard the following: DMX- Party Up- from the lyrics,

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you think that you Superman (doing this for a decade)

I got the Kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?

Y'all niggas is characters, not even good actors (ur a bunch of cocky arrogant losers)

What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

I keep saying there’s two sides to every coin. But you like to tip that scale. Always remember how much of an a*shole he is, more than any crazy, for starters, to put such statements/sentences out in public- that too when the world is monitoring every aspect of me…I mean I could be giving the police or some legal case against me, a ball for their courts through my recorded words and written statements- so in response, I’m in a rap mood:

Eminem says

Go call you a lawyer, file you a lawsuit

I'll smile in the courtroom and buy you a wardrobe

I'm tired of all you, I don't mean to be mean

But that's all I can be, it's just me

I realize these guys(artists)all deal with stupid people like the orchestrators while the larger audience of the world “say oh that’s mean” without context (what was preceding, what was said and done, and what occurred after)

At the end of this, either the orchestrators or me, will be progressing forward in in peace and happiness. Im making that clear, I’m throwing in all my cards, because no matter how numb you make me, my hate accumulating over a decade will find its nourishment. So Have fun, f*ers…

and to the larger audience, lemme guess “oh no he’s mad…what happened…awww” yeah ummm thanks for never talking to me, but thanks for the sentiment too.

Contrary to how I’ve been living for more than a decade, word of advice to the world: “Show the other cheek, talk out your problems, write 300 pages with variations of the idea of returning to normalcy in one chapter in life in an official police complaint, endure a decade, and hope for a solution- this can only be done for so long, and a decade? F* that sh*t. Orchestrators? F* ur wives, husbands , and Kids..

hey guys, when someone is giving YOU a hard time, please be like me and Let them shock your brain 20 times too, for talking about the hard time, so that you can show that you have no decency and are willing to bend over for them, for the sake of “compliancy.”  Next time the F* fake protectors of the law, who don’t protect the rights of an American citizen(wtf does ur Stars and Stripes flag stand for? The red and white ropes they bind you down with in life? Are the 50?!stars on ur flag about ninja stars you throw at ur country’s victims? Maybe the 50 is about, how they’ll screw you 50 times over for minding ur own business i.e always remember: nice guys finish last…maybe the red is about how the country likes to make you bleed/watch you bleed/and entertain others on how you bleed while you try to stand strong)…but where was I? Next time the F* fake protectors of the law, who don’t protect the rights of an American citizen want come in 4 SUVs and make you walk barefoot, for talking about “the situation” ur not supposed to know about daily, be mindful, you will be on the list, when I gain back my authority. Bear in mind the respect enforced, actually needs to be earned through effort and not by a rough voice or tough exterior.

Peepz , when law enforcement engages in a circus, makes remorseful random faces fo you while, get this: simultaneously, engaging in madness, when the FBI engages in silence to make you America’s prostitute of a servant of a hero/icon,

please,

never follow my example.

If any of you get out into a fraction of my problem, don’t waste your health, ur dignity. At times, fists and kicks are the only answer. I went about my life reporting things to authorities, dreaming about best friending a girl in college and marrying her…the works…-if respect can’t be earned or given because some infidel playing or being a false god commands it, “seize respect. “

You can’t waste time on some superficial high ideal high minded losers.

So I keep talking about mental exhaustion…you still actually do the same things, over and over…- so I’m supposed to fall. What’s the matter orchestrators? Could t f*me in the a*s while standing strong? You need me to collapse or be on a stretcher? Would a tempur pedic be ok when you stop most likely molesting ur kids? F*ers…

—-

So I was listening to “Sam’s Gone” from “I Am Legend,”

And I remembered the powerful end scene from I Am Legend…listen and watch 37 seconds into this clip till the end:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7LsxKkh0zg

Starting from 37 seconds, Will Smiths character says “They’re not gonna stop…they’re not gonna stop…” those coincidentally white horrific mutations of humans, in their mindlessness, their aggression, their lack of heart and compassion, remind me of the police officers who made me walk barefoot, it reminds of some party school professors, it reminds of the orchestrators rooted in the mind cr*p - after a decade, I’ve come to acceptance that “they’re not gonna stop.”

For 10+ years of slavery, further indignified by turning me into a joke,

That moment where Will Smiths character and the mutated man (symbolizing an American orchestrator) race to battle towards each other - man…after a decade plus of provoking me, literally 24/7…when we’re finally face to face, I want to see what he/she has the balls to do. De palabra de espanol: “Ver”, ”, mi gentes, “Ustedes Ven la  cara de el Diablo blanco.”

Regarding that moment, when the orchestrators and me race toward each other, win/lose, it’ll be like this from 300:

ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOLpIkoS0QY

You, orchestrators may have the big guns, may have humanity following ur instructions, but like many before me, it’ll be like these two segments from the below 300 movie clip: 1:02- 1:50, 2:12-2:57

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qubItQjdSHA

In a deep state of mind to what transpired years ago, I said that I will get justice. Am I’m saying it again. You, the American orchestrators, turn mankind into one team in conviction and practice against me, you’ll torment me for a decade plus…maybe even destroy me after humiliating me-as is American military style.

Just know this: I, an Indian man, fated to suffer this “situation” in your country, will come back lifetime after lifetime, to finish what you started with me in this epoch of time, where you seek to conquer the Kingdom of God, that resides in every conscious mind wanting peace.

Orchestrators,ur quite welcome to see me as that cockroach who just won’t die or stay dead.

---

[imgonnabeyourbubblegumwitch]

I Love You, You Pay My Rent: Chapter Six

First Chapter (Prologue)

Previous Chapter (Chapter Five)

Nico had been living with Will solace for one month and one day. He had grown used to waking up in his new room, had even put up a couple of posters and tried to make it his. He wasn’t used to waking up with his head pounding and his mouth dry and barren as the Sahara. He lay in bed for a long time whimpering to himself but eventually he dragged himself up, step by careful step, propelled by the need to find painkillers and water.

He vaguely remembered going to a fancy restaurant on a pretend date with Will and several attempts to recreate Nico’s pirate cocktail. He also thought he remembered inviting Will to Percy’s engagement but he hoped that was part of the strange dream he’d had about a zebra and a line of life sized toy soldiers.

When he stumbled out into the kitchen he saw Will sitting neatly in one of the armchairs.  Nico was about to question how Will looked so awake when a dark head popped up and suddenly Percy was grinning at Nico. Nico nearly dropped the glass he was holding.

“Afternoon Neeks,” Percy said. “Is my face really that frightening?”

“Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico snapped back automatically.  

He got his water, and then sat down near Will. Something about having Percy around felt wrong, and Nico felt weirdly protective of Will, even though that made no sense because he was pretty sure Will could handle himself and Percy wasn’t exactly a threat.

But Will’s body language wasn’t saying that. Perhaps it was just the horrendous hangover he probably had and was doing very well to hide, but Will seemed uncomfortable. He was stiffer than normal, and when he spoke it was almost like he did when he was around Drew, like he thought he was on show.

“Turns out we’ve got a couple of biology classes together,” Percy said gesturing to Will.

“And you never noticed before now?” Nico asked somewhat waspishly.

“He’s hardly ever there,” Percy said with a shrug not really picking up on, or perhaps simply just ignoring, Nico’s tone. “Still gets amazing grades though, not sure how he does it.”

He gave Will a big, friendly grin and Will smiled back automatically, wan and so far removed from the smiles he gave Nico that Nico was simultaneously smug and immensely pleased, and a little worried.

“Anyway, so I came over to invite him to the engagement. Thought if he was going to he’d be able to drag you out the house if you suddenly decide you don’t want to do the party thing. Besides I might need a biology tutor at some point, so seems like a good idea to make friends with someone so good they don’t need to turn up right?”

“I’d tutor you anyway,” Will said quietly. “You don’t need to bribe me.”

Nico had never felt uncomfortable around Percy before. Actually, that was a lie, he had felt uncomfortable around Percy pretty much constantly for several years but that was because of his crush. But now his skin felt like it was itching and all he wanted to do was pull Will away from Percy’s clutches.

It probably wasn’t Percy’s fault: he was being friendly and cheerful and there probably wasn’t any malice in the invitation. Knowing Percy he really was just interested in getting to know Nico’s housemate. Percy had been lax on things like that before and it had cost them both, so Nico did appreciate that Percy was at least trying to learn from his mistakes. But couldn’t he do it somewhere else, to someone else who wasn’t Will?

When Will’s phone went off, Nico used it as an excuse to gently encourage him to leave the room. With an apology, Will left to take the call in his room and Nico was left with Percy. There was a moment of blissful silence and then Percy ruined it.

“Are you okay Nico?”

“Hungover. Fed up of interacting so soon after waking up. Completely uninterested in answering that question. Otherwise I’m coping.”

Percy pulled a face.

“Just coping?” he asked. “You used to be like my fun, annoying kid brother. You didn’t stop talking – it drove me up the wall. Now you get annoyed if I’m around for more than five minutes and you barely say a thing. What happened?”

Nico stared at him in complete disbelief.

“What happened?” he hissed. “You got my sister killed!”

Percy blanched but steadied himself.

“You have to know I regret that!” he said pleadingly. “Every day Nico, and I swear if I’d known –“

“It’s not good enough!”

Nico was standing before he realised it, the glass of water tumbling to the floor.

“You ruined my life and I still-“

Despite the waves of anger and despair Nico could feel choking him, he managed to silence the next words. I still loved you, he wanted to say. After everything I was still in love with you and you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t even notice. He snapped his jaw shut, clamping his teeth together to stop the words forcing their way out along with his anger.

Percy looked kind of small all of a sudden.

“It was a mistake,” he said hollowly. “It was a stupid mistake. And now I can’t make another mistake and lose you too Nico, can’t you understand that?”

Nico just glared at him, holding his gaze.

“I wish you’d died instead of her,” he told him, words sharp and dagger like.

Percy went even paler. He looked like he was fighting back tears, but he was resigned too like he kind of expected it. He didn’t bother arguing or trying to fight back, just left leaving Nico to wonder whether it was just the anger and rage he tried to keep locked away talking, or whether he’d really meant what he said.

It just went to prove, really, that he and Percy really didn’t do well when they were alone together.

He felt too edgy and vulnerable after his fight with Percy to want to see anyone, even – maybe especially – Will, so he confined himself to his room in a self-imposed exile and wondered if there was a special place in hell reserved for people who told someone that they wished they were dead.

To his surprise, given Will’s usual interest in his health and wellbeing, Will left him alone. Maybe he’d heard a part of the fight or had just picked up on the bad vibes, but he seemed to sense Nico needed space for which Nico was eternally grateful. He left food out for Nico and then disappeared off out, presumably to one of his friends since Nico thought classes were probably over for the day.

Jason texted him telling him he’d heard about his argument with Percy and asking if he was alright. It was a stupid question, so Nico ignored it. He probably shouldn’t have because the next person to text him was Hazel who didn’t waste time with questions and just announced she was coming to visit for the weekend.

No matter how much he might hate the rest of his family, he couldn’t say no to Hazel. So he settled for scolding Jason for telling on him to his baby sister, and then grumpily gave Hazel his new address. Then he wondered if maybe he should have asked Will first. But then Will was always insisting this was Nico’s place too. So if Nico wanted to bring someone round, surely that was fine?

He posed the question to Will the next day.

“You have a sister?” Will asked.

Nico sighed.

“She’s called Hazel. She’s actually technically my half-sister. But yes. She won’t be any trouble.”

“You know I don’t’ care what you do,” Will said in response. “It’ll be cool to meet her.”

And that’s when Nico finally put together living with Will and inviting Hazel over and got Will was going to meet Hazel. Hazel was going to meet Will.

“Oh no,” he said quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

Nico went to meet Hazel at the station. She gave him a huge hug as soon as she saw him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She might have been tiny - one of the few people he knew smaller than him - but she was strong.

“Can’t breathe Hazel,” he muttered.

“I’ve missed you,” she replied, but did loosen her grip.

“So you said you’d moved. Does that mean I don’t get to see Leo?”

“He betrayed me by going on some extended roadtrip with Calypso,” Nico said.

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“He’s a traitor,” Nico insisted. “Made me find somewhere else to live with a total stranger.”

“And what’s this total stranger like?” Hazel asked.

Nico sniffed.

“Tolerable I suppose,” he said, turning away so Hazel wouldn’t’ see the blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks.

“Tolerable?” Hazel asked. “Isn’t that your version of my new best friend?”

“Tolerable,” Nico repeated, but he couldn’t stop a smile.

Hazel filled Nico in on her life as the two went back to the apartment. She was still working hard, still went riding on the weekends. She was still with Frank which Nico was glad about. Frank was a good guy and he’d been a little worried that the two might find the distance hard when Frank, who was a year older, went to college.

Nico in turn was supposed to tell her about his life. He glossed over the fight with Percy even though it felt like a lead weight in his chest, the fact that he was fake-dating the person who he might have slightly fallen for, and the fact he’d been stupid enough to invite Will to the engagement party as his pretend boyfriend. Instead he told her about Reyna’s birthday because it satisfied the obligation to tell Hazel stuff while simultaneously being completely harmless.

Hazel was full of questions when they got to the apartment. Her eyes were so round they were practically saucers, probably because the last time she’d come to visit him he hadn’t owned plates but had had custody of several interesting times of mould.

“Wow, Nico,” Hazel said as he let her in. “This place is really nice. You’ve moved up in the world!”

“It is pretty nice,” Nico agreed. “The apparently endless supply of take out left overs is the best bit. Will always orders way too much food for himself.”

“Is Will around?” Hazel asked as she dumped her rucksack on the floor and threw herself onto the sofa. “I want to meet him.”

“He’s just some guy I’m living with,” Nico said. “What’s so interesting about him?”

“You tell me,” Hazel replied eyes far too knowing.

Nico gave her an unimpressed look but dutifully knocked on Will’s door and called his name. Wil didn’t answer so Nico assumed he was out. Nico turned to report this to Hazel and found her kneeling by the TV.

“I’m assuming these are Will’s,” she said with a slight grin. “He’s got a good taste in films. I love the Princess and the Frog!”

Nico gave a half shrug as Hazel wandered around the room, poking and investigating things. Nico hadn’t realised how much had changed since he had moved in. He remembered how clinical and impersonal the place had seemed. Now there was stuff everywhere, Will’s and his. It startled him how settled he’d become, almost without realising. It was one thing to have posters up in his own room, but even with Leo, his stuff had remained firmly in his room confined to space that was solely his own.

“Nico?”

“I’m fine,” he told Hazel. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Movie marathon?” Hazel suggested.

It really wasn’t the worst thing she could have come up with so Nico agreed readily enough and suggested she order something to eat, handing her his card.

“Do you think Will wants anything?” she asked.

Nico shrugged.

“He eats most things. Just order double of whatever you want. Oh, and if you’re getting Chinese he doesn’t want fortune cookies. He’s got a thing about them.”

“Noted.”

“He likes pineapple but not pepperoni.”

“Okay,” Hazel said with a slight smile.

“His favourite at the moment is dim sum.”

“Got it,” Hazel said, her grin suddenly very wide. Nico felt his cheeks heating up again.

“We get food a lot,” he said defensively.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Hazel replied innocently.

Nico huffed and told her he needed a shower. He escaped to his room, leaving her to sort out food and a line-up of movies, and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if Hazel knew. She was certainly perceptive enough to pick up on it, and was eerily good at telling who would likely end up with who a skill that only Piper surpassed her in. But he’d thought he’d kept his feelings for Percy well hidden. He knew at some point he was going to have to tell her he was gay, and it would be far easier admitting his feelings for Will than Percy. But somehow it didn’t quite feel right.

Soon, he promised himself. I’ll tell her soon.

He took a shower because otherwise Hazel might question why his hair wasn’t damp and realise he’d just been ducking out from the conversation. The warm water felt good, relaxing him when he didn’t realise he’d been tense, and by the time he’d come out and re-dressed Will was sitting next to Hazel, chatting cheerfully. They had cartoons on but neither were really paying attention as Hazel told Will about one of her classes at school. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought they were old friends with how comfortable they looked with each other.

Seeing Will interacting with Hazel didn’t feel weird in the way that seeing Will with Percy did and he left them talking, taking his time making his coffee. He tried not to think about how his heart felt too big for his chest, or how he felt all warm and kind of fuzzy.

“What did you order?” he asked Hazel as he sat down on the other side of her.

“I didn’t. I mentioned I wanted to try cooking pizza from scratch and Will said we could try. You don’t mind right?”

“Whatever you want Hazel.”

Hazel grinned.

“We’ll need to go out for ingredients,” Will commented.

“You cooking though,” Nico said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Might burn the building down.”

“And as tragic as that would be,” Will answered, “think how much that would annoy Octavian.”

Nico laughed. He could perfectly picture Octavian’s face as he came home and saw smoke pouring out from under their door.

“Sold,” Nico said. “But shotgun not going out.”

The pizza took a ridiculously long time to make and Nico could have complained that it would have been quicker to order it. But Hazel was having fun and he had to admit he was too. It didn’t matter that their pizzas went horribly wrong and Nico could practically hear his mother yelling at him from beyond the grave about his cooking skills. Nico liked hanging out with Will and Hazel. The only hard thing was trying to act normal so Hazel wouldn’t keep giving him side-long glances with accompanied by mysterious knowing little smiles that put Mona Lisa to shame. He hoped he was imagining it but as the pizzas were cooking and Will was getting out plates, Hazel suddenly attacked.

“So Will,” she said as she finished telling him about Frank. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Uh no I – “

“Boyfriend?” Hazel asked sweetly. Nico glared at her but Hazel feigned ignorance.

“Not at the moment,” Will said.

Hazel gave him a big grin.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone soon,” she said.

Nico intensified his glare. Hazel stuck out her tongue behind Will’s back. She looked like she was going to say something else and Nico was considering tackling her to the ground, and whether Will would notice, when the timer rang and Will left to get the pizzas out.

“What are you doing?” Nico hissed.

“Taking an interest in his life,” Hazel said loftily but she couldn’t quite keep the mischievous little grin off her face.

“I can take an interest in yours too if you like. You usually complain though.”

“Hazel –“

“Do you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?” She knew. She definitely knew. He could just admit it here and now, but it was too difficult with Will only in the kitchen and he just shoved her arm instead.

“Hazel!” he snapped.

Hazel burst out laughing and Nico tried to hush her. “You’re such an annoyance,” he told her irritably and shoved her down into a chair.

“Now behave. Quit grilling Will about his love life.”

Hazel pulled a face but dutifully pretended to zip her lips shut. Nico gestured that he’d be watching her as Will came back with their dinner, and sat down trying to pretend like everything was normal.

He got through dinner without embarrassing himself and Hazel surprised him by keeping quiet on the topic of romance and they talked instead about what they were going to do tomorrow for Hazel’s only full day in the city. Hazel wanted to go to a museum and Will suggested an exhibit on the greek gods.

“Since you love mythomagic so much,” Will said with a grin.

“That sounds pretty cool actually,” Hazel said. “I’d like to see that.”

“I’m up for it,” Nico told her, licking ice cream off his spoon.

“Great. Now you promised me a movie marathon and that I could pick,” Hazel said. “You haven’t seen Princess and the Frog yet right?”

Nico let Hazel sleep in his bed and crashed out on his floor. Hazel dropped off almost immediately and began snoring gently. He found it much harder to get to sleep. He blamed it on the hard floor but it could possibly also have been because his heart was jumping all over the place in his chest. Every time he closed his eyes all he could think about was Will.

You’re in way too deep, he told himself but he got the feeling his warning was way too late.

The next morning he found Will helping Hazel with some biology homework, the two sat at the dining table together. It was weirdly domestic but also weirdly not all that strange a sight. Nico poured himself cereal and ate as Will explained some minutiae of the circulatory system.  

He left to get ready and when he got back he found Will was watching TV.

“What are you up to today?” he asked, going over to sit on the edge of the armchair.

“Nothing in particular,” Will said. “I was going to catch a movie with Lou Ellen but she cancelled last minute and everyone else is busy.”

Nico knew what he was going to say a split second before he said it and it still managed to be a surprise when the words left his mouth.

“Well maybe you could come with us?” he suggested. Will looked up at him.

“It was supposed to be your day with Hazel,” he said.

“She won’t mind. You’re her new BFF, she’s totally in love with you.”

Will laughed.

“I’m just that good,” he said. “Charm the dads, flowers for the mums, become BFFs with the little sisters.”

Nico laughed too.

“You’re full of yourself Solace,” he told him.

Hazel came out of the bathroom then, hair brushed and up, and saw the two of them. She grinned but didn’t say anything as she pulled on her jacket.

The Greek gods exhibition was pretty good. Hazael was enjoying it anyway. She jumped from statue to vase to painting, taking pictures with her camera and stopping at random points to sketch in the little notebook she kept in her pocket. She’d barely spent two seconds with them, just kept running off in a way Nico was starting to think was deliberate since it felt less like he’d come here with Hazel and a lot more like he’d come here with Will.

They wandered along, side by side, close enough that their hands occasionally brushed. Will didn’t move away though and Nico didn’t think he could if he wanted too, it was like Will had some kind of gravitational force that kept pulling Nico in. When Will stopped to admire a statue, Nico stopped to admire Will admiring the statue.

“Kind of looks like you,” Will commented.

“It looks nothing like me,” Nico retorted. “Who is it anyway?”

Will looked around for a plaque.

“Hades, Lord of the Dead,” he read with the beginnings of a grin.

“Great,” Nico said. “Thanks a lot.”

“Suits you, Death Boy,” Will teased lightly.

“He doesn’t look like me!” Nico protested shoving Will lightly in the arm.

“Well okay you’d have to put in some more hours in the gym to get those arms,” Will conceded.

“Are you insulting my figure Solace?”

“Not at all,” Will said. “You’re figure’s fine with me.”

Nico looked at him in surprise and was even more surprised when he saw Will’s cheeks were suddenly tinged pink. He was hit once again with how freaking beautiful Will was and wondered if he could constantly say things to make Will blush just so his cheeks could stay that rosy. Nico kind of wanted to kiss him and he realised with horror he’d actually leant in slightly and this wasn’t supposed to happen and Will’s eyes had gone wide and this was all wrong and –

He was incredibly relieved when Hazel pinged up by their sides and said that she wanted to visit the gift shop. Nico answered automatically and he’d never know what he said, or how he’d managed to speak at all when all the breath felt like it had left his body.

He’d been expecting Hazel to corner him about Will all weekend so when she began packing things back up in her rucksack he wasn’t especially surprised (even if he also wasn’t thrilled) when she brought him up.

“So Will’s pretty great,” she said. “You got lucky on the housemate lottery.”

It was tame compared to what she could have said so Nico gave her an honest answer instead of brushing her off.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Nico?”

“Yes, Hazel?” Nico asked with a sigh. She was fidgeting, looking surprisingly unsure.

“You could do worse.”

Nico’s heart skipped ten beats. He swallowed and even though Hazel was accepting and sweet it was still insanely difficult to speak. He managed to nod mutely and Hazel smiled back, nodding too. She turned to leave the room but Nico called her back.  

“Hazel?”

She looked at him but he didn’t have the words so he hugged her and hoped she understood.

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