#between work and doctor stuff and the fact that i picked up a new hobby that is asking my body to attempt athleticism XD

[panharmonium]

“phew...i managed to keep them happy.”

[wank127]

sorry in advance if i’m spamming your notifications /gen!

i just remembered that denki existed and i’m craving [neurodivergent] headcanons and your blog kinda has a lot of good reblogs n posts of that so-

you’re not spamming at all, in fact i didn’t even see this till now since i don’t normally get any asks ! (thanks for the ask btw <3) i hope you enjoy !!

neurodivergent denki headcannons !

disclaimer: i, myself, am currently in the process of getting diagnosed with adhd/autism/whatever it is (i’m not self diagnosing but i did get 8/10 on an autism assessment given to me by a doctor so that must say something) so this is a wee bit of me projecting. my intentions for this post are not to offend anyone in the nd community nor spread any miss information. please correct me if i make any mistakes ! and apologies for it being so long i’m still trying to figure out the ‘read more’ thing !! now ! onto the head cannons !!

he has MAJOR sensory issues and issues with bad textures

his main ones are foods that are a mix between solid or liquid, like a soup that’s meant to be smooth but isn’t or like very wet bread, anything sticky and that one inside of a hoodie feel, like the one wear it’s like fleece but it feels like plastic and somehow creamy and just BLUGNXJSK y’know?

he has that not right kind of thing(iykyk) where he has to say a word/phrase again till it feels right, or touch the desk again, or hit the back of foot again to make it right

it gets really frustrating sometimes

he surprisingly likes velvet, fun to play with, cool to drag your finger around on

he has very bad memory problems

like really bad

they cause him to breakdown every time he has a test cause everything he tried to study was just,, gone,, no where to be found

he opens up to present mic about it and he’s a big help, gives him extra time for testing, helps him with study techniques, gives him more reminders, etc etc

mic and him are like that student-english teacher duo

(no bc they’re the same person just different sizes please)

he struggles with reading a lot too, he knows there’s words but his brain just won’t recognize what they are

word soup

his main special interests/hyperfixations are old english literature, true crime/psychology/criminal stuff, literally anything to do with art and physics(electricity stuff)

he has other ones like cars and how to annoy bakugo to the brink of tears

his most common stims are happy flappy hands, putting his hand into a thumbs up and squeezing, rocking back and forth and swinging his legs about

his like calm down stim is humming, having some form of pressure(weighted blanket !!) and rocking a little bit

he gets overwhelmed by questions a lot

like if he’s not prepared to answer one and he gets asked TWO he’ll just go ‘nope’

he’s nonverbal sometimes, especially when he gets overwhelmed

he zones out and daydreams for like,,, 70% of the day

his favorite texture for food is something like mash potatoes, like a doughy texture, one that just sits right in the mouth

(potato waffles are his go to food (british thing but they’re so good))

just enough chew but not too much, not too wet not too dry

speaking of dry food,, he hates it. dry biscuits(cookies) are a no go if he doesn’t have a bunch of water/juice with him, he also just doesn’t like hot drinks

he’s god fuckinh amazing at art, like painting, drawing, sketching, everything

he’s so good at it

he ‘doodles’ in all of his school work and books, most of the time it’s of aizawa or present mic (or,, *cough*his crush*cough*) and they’re super accurate

when he goes to sleep he has to have a small tea light candle lit, his over the ear headphones on and playing asmr and a hoodie (comfort hoodie, gifted to him by kiri) with the hood up and pressure on his feet(like just his blanket covering them is fine)

no other set up is allowed

he uses fidget (simple dimple pop) and sensory toys

they got taken away from him in class one time, he almost cried it was so sad

RAGE

so much rage

god

when he was younger he used to scream bloody murder when he had to put on sunscreen (same boo)

refused to wear it until his parents got him a spray on sunscreen (it was just like an oil/water based sunscreen that just,, wasn’t sticky, it was perfect) he still uses it to this day

he loves music, so much

it’s so cool

so many playlists

has like ten different ones that he made just for long car drives

like all the sounds and noises just make his brain so happy

he likes bo burnham cause he has very good lyrics and sounds that make him wanna share them with everyone so they can be happy too (especially ‘sexting’ , ‘oh bo’,’ words words words’, ’rant’, the kanye one, ‘we think we know you’, ‘channel 5 news: the musical’ and ‘bezos’ 1&2)

(omg channel 5 news is so good)

his number is 5

he’s kinda scared to do good in school bc his rank in class will go up and what if it lands on an ugly number??

he’s quite unintentionally restrictive with his food

he just forgets to eat or that he’s hungry

he’s working on it tho dw !

his accents are like typical british/english, australian and southern american

pop out at random times

like he’ll ask present mic to repeat the page number as a southern bell little lady

had a vocal stim that was opra singing “milly rock pick it up”

lil jon vocal stim

(YEAH)

his room is very messy and cluttered from all the failed hobbies and things he just forgot about

expect him to cook but DO NOT expect him to clean up afterwards

like iida will walk into the dorm kitchen in the morning and find this huge mess thinking someone broke in

and kiri is like: oh ig denki was hungry i wonder if he has leftovers

okay i think i’m gonna end this one here lol it’s getting kinda long ! i hope you liked it ! <3

[straymackerel]

shopaholic s/o hcs

akutagawa ryunosuke

• sweet mother of “what the FUCK do i do”

• the man’s coat is an ability ffs how is he gonna know what to do in an actual clothing store

• ps. the 17th century called, they want their ruffled blouse and cravat back

• gin tries to give him advice, like that he should hold stuff for you when you’re shopping, but he’s too embarrassed to actually do so (especially if you’re buying women’s clothes––toxic masculinity check ✨✨)

• akutagawa will either stand in the middle of the aisle or in the very very corner of the stores you go to, and he will NOT move for anyone except you.

• if you bring him to one of those cutesy millennial gift shops, he’ll be tempted to tear the place to shreds… but if it brings you joy, he’ll suck it up just for you.

• blushes and looks away when you come out of the dressing room. “what do you think?” “...tch, it serves its function.”

• akutagawa bristles when he sees a coat like dazai’s on the men’s side of the department store, and he’s quite obvious about it

• follows you like a dog when you finally leave the store

• will ONLY vibe in hot topic 🖤 but even then would not be caught dead holding anything colorful

• the only thing he feels comfortable picking out in front of you are new shades though

• generally admires your outfits in silence. might give a grunt or nod of approval towards your ensemble once in a while, but that’s all you’re getting out of him.

akutagawa gin

• you are exactly what she needs in her life oml

• she’d love to spice up her casual wear but she doesn’t have lots of time to do so between her job and taking care of her brother

• for the love of god you are not allowed to tell him that

• please please pleaseee help her find hair accessories, bracelets, lacy gloves, etc.

• maybe some lipstick? she has no “practical” use for it under a mask so she doesn’t own any yet (she would totally put it on for work though, it’ll be like her little secret)

• when buying new clothes, she comes out of the dressing room quite flustered so you BEST tell her she looks amazing

• gin is v soft and wants to hold your hand while browsing ksdfksksd ❤️❤️

• silently stares at certain mannequins before you finally ask if she wants to check them out

• is always super psyched when you notice (since ryu is always oblivious or just pretending to be...)

• also wants to go to hot topic, specifically for more masks and chokers

• pulls you into the dressing room so no one but you sees her transform with her hair up

• people often give compliments to gin (or the both of you as a couple) in public and she’ll run to hide behind you because AHHHHHHH

• you must nurture and protect this side of her at all costs..!

edgar allan poe

• also part of the hot topic gang™

• entertains you by coming out of the dressing room with the most gothic outfits he could manage to put together

• can we talk about how fabulous this guy dresses??? manga poe popped off with those layers and patterns

• also has impeccable taste in shoes. feast your eyes on those knee-high heeled boots with the tops folded over

• absolutely loves to thrift; won’t even notice musty vintage smells

• unfortunately has to hide karl in his coat so the store staff doesn’t kick him out

• poe will tell you fun facts about the differences between the clothing of japan and america (ex. japanese sizes run small, leggings are considered pants in america but not japan)

• the only obstacle between him and shopping is his shyness. he’ll avoid workers and other customers like the plague

• he’s given up on asking for his size because people never hear him... you may need to “translate” for him once in a while.

• different clothes will make him a different person. he’ll get really into his element if he’s in the right outfit, so he’s down to experiment.

• going out and shopping with you gives him writing inspiration. you might get a poem or two based on such endeavors

• karl isn’t very taken up with the whole ordeal so he might not like you very much

yosano akiko

• a match made in heaven? 😇

• the two of you are constantly asking each other where the other got those pants, that nail polish, those heels, etc.

• yosano gives amazing fashion advice, but never unsolicited. she approves of all of your purchases, believing that there are no hard and fast rules to dressing up. overall just supportive of your shared hobby.

• you will never make more purchases/spend more money than her in any given trip. 

• the two of you have to bring a shopping trolley or two or three or four on every trip to the mall (otherwise it’s impossible to bring all the loot home)

 • she might still drag an ada member along to help out, and you’ve learned not to question it 

• yosano knows all the deals, carries all the coupons, and has all the 5% back credit cards for pretty much everywhere

• fashion magazines littering your shared apartment? probably.

• want her to do your makeup? she’s a doctor, she has steady hands~

• matching outfits? you’ll be the cutest couple.

• the two of you declutter together and always give the excess to charity, shelters, and projects that recycle fabric

• she will never buy new hair accessories to replace her butterfly clip––and it will be a long time before she explains why, if ever.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Marasmus

Marasmus only has a handful of fics left at Gossamer, but you can find more X-Files fics at AO3 (as finisterre). Some of my favorites of her stories I've recced here before, including one of the most clever fics you could read, Cellphone (here at AO3), and the lovely, London-set A Candle for Katherine (here at AO3, bonus commentary at LJ). Big thanks to Marasmus for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Mine, yes, older XF in general, no — some of that stuff is amazing. Though I wonder how well fandom operates now there is not a plethora of rec sites. I know of yours and one more Tumblr blog and that’s it.  I find it really difficult to find good stories in any fandom unless someone whose taste maps to mine recommends something.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I look back on it fondly, but it was one of the first things that really hammered it home to me that every grouping throughout life follows the pattern of school.

A lot of people are really talented and funny and kind. Then there are absolute ego-rampaging nightmares who act like lady bountiful in public but do cruel things in private, or chuck their toys out of the pram at the least provocation.

And like school, fandom brings together a disparate group of people who you’re friendly with, but once you leave, the ones you stay in touch with are your friends.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Thank God.

I watched the show pre-widespread internet and mostly when I had almost no money. I didn’t have regular internet access until the third season, and that was only at my incredibly conservative workplace. I didn’t get home internet access until midway through season six. You couldn’t download episodes easily, you couldn’t stream, you just had to wait until it aired overseas. I decided I didn’t care if I was spoiled and that worked for me. In fact for some particularly annoying episodes, I was glad.

I was a newsgroup and mailing list sort of person. Never really did message boards unless a newsgroup counts, though I had a Haven account.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Mostly, how talented people are. I know some are now professional writers, but so many people who didn’t do it as anything but a hobby were also amazing.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I always liked science fiction, oddness and urban legends, so it was kind of made for me. But it was the relationship between Mulder and Scully that kept me around, and after season six, it was the fandom that kept me around. I loved Scully in particular, cos let’s be honest, Mulder can be kind of a twerp at times.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I hung out on alt.tv.xfiles.analysis (a newsgroup), which was one of the smartest boards I’ve ever been on. The threads were full of well-read, erudite people. That led to a site which collated reviews of XF episodes. They mentioned alt.tv.xfiles.creative, and I got there the summer after Gethsemane, which was pretty optimal timing.

I’d take floppy disks into conservative workplace and quietly download the most gloriously filthy fanfic onto them for reading at home on my ancient second-hand Mac.

After that I joined Scullyfic, a mailing list, which was a lovely place to hang out for a while, and got stories through a couple of other mailing lists.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Like my relationship to ice hockey: glad that activity exists and that some people enjoy it, but not watching and not involved myself.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Reading, yes, and writing the odd bit of feedback, but any other fandom involvement didn’t really take. I’ve never found a bunch of people I liked as well as I liked some of the people in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I am usually more interested in female characters than male ones (the Doctor, Mulder and Jack O’Neill notwithstanding), which is why I only read a bit of m/m slash. I usually develop a perverse dislike for any woobie the fandom loves.  

Some favourites are: Samantha Carter and Jack O’Neill, Granny Weatherwax, Furiosa, everyone from The Good Place, Donna Noble, Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones and Yasmin Khan, Maia from The Goblin Emperor, Cordelia Naismith and Miles Vorkosigan, General Leia Organa, Rey and Finn, and lately all of The Old Guard, even Booker...

I like nerds, pining, best friends discovering feelings for each other, second chances, redemption narratives, people being sneaky for good ends and stoics who stay stoic through all kinds of misery, only to crack and start crying when they get a happy ending.

Basically, you know Eleanor at the end of the Emma Thompson Sense and Sensibility? That.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

No. I had about four years there where I made up stories about Mulder and Scully on any commute where I’d forgotten a book, but that’s gone now. I watched two episodes of the revival, but it wasn’t for me.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I occasionally wander in and read a bit on AO3, but nothing that deals with anything past season seven. Not interested in William, not interested in domestic fiction, not even interested in post-col any more, which was 100% my crack during XF fandom days. I did read By the Dim and Flaring Lamps [Lilydale note: by @sunflowerseedsandscience] earlier this year. Love a bit of AU historical.

I read lots of different fandoms, though I am between intense enthusiasms at the moment, which always feels a bit odd.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Yes, but they’re all about 20 years old. Is there such a thing as fandom classics any more?  There used to be a litany of stories that ‘everyone should read’. I wonder how well they hold up now.

I think there are waves of writers who come into a fandom and then leave again: I think I was part of a second wave, with the first wave being Mustang Sally, RivkaT, Karen Rasch, Lydia Bower, Nascent etc.

Then there must’ve been a third wave for the revival (and mini-waves in between). I don’t know that group of writers, so I am probably leaving out people who are really good.

One of my favourite Scully voices is Five Years and One Night [Lilydale note: by Shalimar], because of the contrast between her inner monologue as written and how little she actually says.

I really like quieter, thoughtful authors like Michelle Kiefer, Cecily Sasserbaum, Scullysfan, Cofax, Anjou, Maria Nicole, Kipler.  Love everything Kel ever wrote.

At one point there were also about three authors called Rachel who were knockout. I like to think Rachel Howard is writing professionally because it’s a waste of talent if she’s not. Rachel Anton had a crazy gift for pacing and wrote a good Krycek.

I really liked Branwell’s strange AU novels, which riff off The Field Where I Died (a wretched episode but so much good writing came from it.) [Lilydale note: Condemned to Repeat It by Branwell is a really long story involving The Field Where I Died.]

Everyone who is reccing other people’s stuff here is also a good writer. (and their taste in recs is — mostly — excellent): http://www.thebasementoffice.com/museaxfnet/museans/TitlesAF.html

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I like The Flexible Concept of Tomorrow. I loved trying to work out the timelines. I like the one about airships and cross-dressing which only exists on my iPhone and in my imagination right now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Only an AU, if ever. I am completely at sea with canon.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

In my head. Mostly AUs. Everyone has daemons! It’s an airship! They’re exploring space! It’s mediaeval Slovenia!

Most of my creativity is sucked away by work. Which is good I suppose, as writing fanfic never paid my Netflix subscription.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Reading long-form journalism and non-fiction books.  

What's the story behind your pen name?

Well, I changed mine. The first one was picked out of a magazine article about Branwell Bronte, and I liked the shape of the word. Then I got to feel uncomfortable with it because it was a real illness that made people suffer. The current one comes from the shipping forecast when I was a kid.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

No, and also absolutely not. Over my dead body. Over YOUR dead body.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I took my stories off Gossamer but I don’t remember why. They’re on AO3 now and there are probably stray copies on some archives out there.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I have made all of these mistakes. All of ‘em.

— On no account offer unsolicited concrit. In fact, do not provide concrit EVEN IF THE PERSON ASKS FOR IT, unless you know them reasonably well and it’s in private.

— Avoid the wank. If you have the perfect riposte to something awful, write it and file it to drafts for two days. If you still want to send it after that, godspeed.

— Write anything you want, and when you start keep going. You can edit later.

— Never put any story into the public sphere unless you’ve had a second pair of eyes on it, preferably the eyes of someone who is willing to say “are you SURE about that?”

Finally, just have fun. Being in the grip of love of story is a wonderful thing, and you never know how long it will last.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 29, 2020)

[tragicies]

♡ ˙      jenna coleman ,  she / her ,  twenty - seven      /        𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀  𝐎𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐃  has  been  displaced !      originally  from  𝙳𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁  𝚆𝙷𝙾 ,  she  has  found  themselves  in  new  york  city ,  without  their  memories .    they’re  currently  working  as  a  fifth  grade  teacher   &   tend  to  come  across  as  DARING,  INTELLEGENT ,  but  also  BOSSY   &   OBSESSIVE .     we’ll  see  if  their  𝒎𝒂𝒑𝒍𝒆  𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒇  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒊𝒏  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅   &   𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓  𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 ,  𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎  𝒕𝒐  𝒃𝒆  𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕  𝒂  𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆  𝒕𝒐𝒐  𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕 ,  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍  𝒕𝒐  𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒚  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆  𝒂  𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏  𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔  𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓   personality  will  be  their  downfall  or  their  saving  grace  in  these  streets .      /       link ,  24 ,  they / them ,  est . 

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒  .

full name :     clara  oswin  oswald . alises :   the  impossible  girl ,  soufflé  girl . age :   twenty  seven . gender & pronouns :   cis female ,  she / her . sexual & romantic orientation :    bisexual / biromantic . species :   human . star  sign :   sagittarius . identifying  marks :    tba .

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 .

the  doctor  technically  met  clara  years  ago  when  he  was  in  his  first  generation .   or  a  version  of  her  at  least .    she  told  him  which  TARDIS  to  steal   &  then  he  barely  encountered  her  hundreds  of  other  times ,  too ,  but  not  long  enough  to  make  much  of  an  impression .   though  all  of  these  claras  were  never  the  real  clara .

the  doctor  first  met  the  real  clara  in  his  11th  regeneration  after  he  finally  made  a  lasting  impression  on  two  of  the  other  claras ,  called  echoes ,  in  time .    she  caught  his  attention  because  the  fact  he  had  met  her  twice   &   she  had  died  twice  should  be  impossible  but  there  she  was !

after  the  two  stopped  a  crisis  where  people  were  being  trapped  in  their  own  wifi ,  clara  was  invited  to  travel  with  the  doctor .    she  agreed   &   they  set  off .

when  the  great  intelligence  attempted  to  once   &   for  all  kill  the  doctor ,  the  impossible  mystery  of  clara  was  finally  revealed  as  she  stepped  into  the  doctor’s  timeline  which  created  thousands  upon  thousands  echoes  of  herself  throughout  the  doctors  history  to  undo  the  damage  done .

after  this,  though ,  the  doctor  did  regenerate  which  clara  was  unsure  of  what  to  think  about  at  first  but ,  despite  how  different  he  became ,  he  was  still  the  doctor   &  still  her  dearest  friend .

as  time  went  on  clara  became  more   &  more  reckless   &   even  somewhat  addictive  to  the  lifestyle  of  traveling  with  the  doctor .   she  refused  to  let  it  go  despite  the  difficulty  of  keeping  up  with  their  adventures   &   having  a  normal  life .

this  difficulty  came  back  to  haunt  her  eventually  when  it  caused  the  loss  of  her  boyfriend ,  danny  pink ,  proving  she  couldn’t  have  a  simple  life   &  a  life  with  the  doctor  so  seamlessly .   even  so ,  she  still  chose  to  continue  traveling  with  the  doctor .

her  travels  with  the  doctor  came  to  an  end  when  she  sacrificed  herself  to  a  raven  shade  belonging  to  an  immortal  ashildr ,  a.k.a.  Me ,  to  save  her  friend  rigsy  when  he’s  wrongly  accused  of  a  crime  in  ashildr’s  refugee  trap  street  for  extraterrestrial .

however ,  the  time  lords  later  extracted  clara  one  heartbeat  before  her  death ,  essentially  frozen  in  time ,  hoping  to  get  information  of  her .    afterwards  she  expected  to  be  returned  to  her  death  but  managed  to  flee  with  the  doctor .   the  doctor  admitted  to  them  being  too  dangerous  for  each  other   &   had  his  memory  wiped  of  her  existence .  

clara ,  on  the  other  hand ,  now  with  her  own  TARDIS  went  off  with  ashildr  &   the  two  decided  clara  would  return  to  gallifrey  but  since  she  was  still  stuck  between  heart  beats  making  essentially  immortal  until  she  returned  she  decided  to  “take  the  long  way  around”   to  get  to  gallifrey   &   went  off  on  adventures  with  ashildr  first .

this  was   the   ...   shortest  i  could  make  this  i  swear .

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 .

she’s  from  london  originally  !    i  am  still  extremely  flexible  on  her  family   &  friends  background  here ,  all  i  do  have  is  she  was  given  a  book  of  101  places  to  travel  from  her  parents  as  a  child  before  their  death   ( a  tragic  accident )   &   often  dreamed  of  going  around  the  world  though  has  never  gotten  the  chance .

she’s  always  aimed  to  be  as  clever  as  she  can .    would  do  things  like  run  for  class  president  just  to  prove  someone  wrong  when  they  said  she’d  lose  if  she  did .

often  worked  in  tutoring  programs  for  younger  grades  seeing  as  she  was  extremely  good  with  kids .

moved  to  new  york  for  university  in  attempt  to  finally  live  the  dreams  of  traveling  she  always  had .    during  this  time  she  worked  as  a  nanny  as  a  way  for  money .

now  she’s  a  fifth  grade  teacher  &   loves  her  class  even  though  her  first  few  years  teaching  were  quite  rough .   it  took  sometime  for  her  to  get  respect  in  the  classroom  but  she’s  quite  unquestionable  now .

is  constantly  busy .   never  sits  down  much  but  probably  should .   she  feels  like  she  needs  to  be  up   &   about  at  all  times .

has  a  lot  of  side  hobbies  bc  she  picked  up  a  ton  of  extracurricular  stuff  as  a  kid   &   now  just  has  one  million  things  she  likes  to  go  do .

i  am  literally  open  to  so  many  connections .

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 .

none  so  far  but  i’ll  add  as  i  get  some !

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Changes to Find the Middle

TITLE: Changes to Find the Middle

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Oneshot

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki helping you through a new medication regimen.

+

Image meeting Loki at the really "good/high" end of a mental illness (like bipolar).

RATING:  Teen

NOTES/WARNINGS: Mental health. Bipolar disorder. Manic to depression. Sexual relationship. Mentions of sex but no explicit content. Character not being herself. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please be careful and take care of yourself. This might be a little triggering due to what I know of Bipolar disorder. Extreme highs (hypomania) and extreme lows (depression) are shown in this but thankfully this has a happy ending I wish everyone could experience in real life. Mental health is so important and People who have mental health issues often can not control themselves due to a chemical imbalance or traumatic experience in their life. Their behavior is often NOT their fault. Seek professional help if needed.

Song Muses: (Addicted by Saving Able) (You don't know by Katelyn Tarver) (Rescue Me by Onerepublic) (Inner demons by Julia Brennan) (Paralyzed by NF)

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: 2,413

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

"How has your energy been? You look good."

I sat down enthusiastically in front of the doctor's desk, "really good! I have the energy to catch up with things now that a couldn't even think about doing a few months ago."

"That's very good. Are you hanging out with your friends again? I remember our last visit you said you missed them."

"Yeah I took your advice and told them. Only two of my friends are close now but they took me out of my house occasionally and I am feeling more confident with myself because of them."

"I am happy to hear that." The doctor smiled at me.

I talked really fast because my doctor needed to hear more, "Their friends got me into one of Stark's parties and it was… amazing. I met this new guy actually."

"You guys do anything fun?"

"We met at the party and things really sparked. Like REALLY sparked and we see eachother everyday." I did not leave the suggestive tone out of my voice.

"That's good. Go on dates?"

Excitement lit in me at the thought of all the amazing sex we had… but other than the few drinks he bought me and the takeout dinner… 

The doctor glanced at me, their look shifted… something shifted and I already knew what was wrong.

"Umm… well.." I rubbed my thigh out of nerves just THINKING about it. Just the thought of the gynecology appointment for STI testing I should get done. I cleared my throat as I awkwardly answered, "there's more… action going on than casual conversations." 

My face flushed with heat when they asked,

"You mean sexual intercourse?"

I nodded my head. 

I knew. Everyone that actually knew "normal" me… All of us KNEW I never have sex with anyone until a month a serious dating, at least. The type of dating where discussions were deeper things than food, half watched movies, and how our outward appearances looked naked. I never sexted when I couldn't actually meet the other.

The doctor carefully asked the famous question, "Have you used protection?"

I tried to laugh but it came out broken. "No. Once again I felt invincible, overconfident, and had the sex drive of a rabbit."

The doctor started to discuss my sleep that was nonexistent. Then the amount of food consumption that was high and all I have been eating was cheap takeout. I haven't been eating like my usual self who tried to keep eating healthy. Even through depression I ate frozen fruit. It was on my list every time when I absolutely had to drag myself to the store to get necessities. I explained how I have been the person who, "helps everyone out with extreme unrealistic enthusiasm" as I always said to be annoying during my normal window of mind set.

I went to the store to pick up my prescription for a mood stabilizer. I went home and as much as I REALLY wanted to answer the phone when seeing Loki's name. I just didn't. I forced the thought from my mind of...a really pleasure filled night. My body filled with the desire to be touched by another's body.

The phone stopped ringing and so did my sinful thoughts.

As usual there was no voicemail.

In normal circumstances there should have been one, with a declaration of loving longing or a stupid question in a way to just get me to get back in contact.

I stared at my phone. My mind was at war and the part fueled by my bodily behavior was winning. It became a game in my head that was unfavorably tipped towards my body's desire. He texted me if he could come to my place and the game was over. I hid the medication in the cupboard after taking my first dose.

I woke in an odd way… something was different.

I groaned as I moved and felt the bed still warm under my body. I opened my eyes as I inhaled at a similar scent. I was unsure if I was glad he was gone or upset he seemed to have just left. He usually stayed till I woke. I felt the sensation between my legs and knew I needed to make a gynecologist appointment before I had to go to work, praying I could get in after my shift tomorrow.

I made the appointment but it was not for a few days and Loki kept in contact. However I worked on letting him go slowly with not responding immediately and was to the point of making sure not to respond to him unless there were so many number of attempts to contact me.

I stared at my phone as a new text message appeared.

Loki asked a simple question, "Are you ok?"

I laughed and laughed till I could no longer bare to do it.

It WAS a simple question but no one ever wanted the real answer. No one wanted the burdens of another placed on their shoulders from SMALL talk. The truth was deeper and more time consuming than anyone could predict. So I sent the simple one worded lie and left my phone alone again, but silenced it.

It was a while before I checked my phone due to falling asleep to the discovery channel.

I was fully prepared for no new notifications.

I was surprised to see 2 new messages.

I wanted to throw the phone before I looked but the idea was squashed by excitement and curiosity.

Both of the messages from Loki.

"Do you want to meet up?"

Hour after the last message, "talk tomorrow. Goodnight."

I didn't answer back because my stomach tightened in an odd way. I was used to feeling good about a God wanting me but now...

I used positive self talk to encourage myself to not give in on my final day before my tests but that coping skill is easily the hardest to master. I found myself open the chat with him, start to type something arousing and had to delete it. I was pissing myself off. I hated the stage between "normal me" and "ill me" because my mind was constantly at war.

I decided to ultimately block Loki's number in an attempt to stop contact.

My test results came back that I was still healthy and relief washed over me..

Eventually those supposed friends stopped talking to me as they usually did because I was not "fun" anymore.

I was becoming my "normal" self again, thus putting in the efforts of a healthy schedule again.

However, the loneliness from staying in by myself. Not having anyone to talk to. Ofcourse, I had my coworkers that have always openly laughed at poor tastes of mental health jokes. I was losing interest in everything because, "why should I care" and "what's the point?"

I had to look presentable for work so while I was "public eye" ready, I did my shopping then. By the time I got home on the days of the extremely scarce necessity shopping, I was exhausted but my body was wide awake. I would toss and turn trying to sleep but it would not welcome me.

Then other times, I put the cold stuff away and went straight to bed without getting anything to consume. I would often cry myself to sleep, then wake too tired to do anything. 

On days off I would lay in bed and do nothing until the desire to use the toilet became too strong.

I would weep and mourn my favorite past times. Not actually my interests and hobbies but how much I could not will myself to just do them. I left the discovery channel play on the TV just for the sake of something familiar. When a little fact I knew would be mentioned it was like a smoldering campfire was stirred. 

A little life breathed into me from time to time and due to the doctor's recommendation, I got back into therapy again. It helped but the talks were hard and seemed to weigh heavily on me more once I was home. There are skills I should be using and strategic tips to get things done. However, sometimes I just could not pull the will into my grasp to participate in the knowledge of a healthy lifestyle.

My phone rang with an unknown number. I answered it due to expecting a response from my doctor.

"How have you been?"

I knew that voice… but I could not pinpoint it.

I answered, "I'm ok. But who is this?"

"Loki."

"Oh…" I scrambled for words but nothing came. How was I supposed to explain this to him, my current state in everything and the fact I blocked his number?

"Are you home?"

"I was just about to leave." It was a lie. 

A damn terrible lie. I had no plans of removing myself from my couch. It had everything I needed in arms reach because it was essentially my comfort fort now.

The doorbell rang and I was extremely tempted to act like I was not home but the person on the other end of the phone knew.

I sighed with dread ringing in my chest much like the damned sound of company at my door insistent on not giving up.

I opened the door slightly to see Loki standing there.

His eyes met mine.

"You do not seem ok." Echoed from my phone before he ended the call.

I looked past Loki because while it might have once been excitement, I felt anything but that currently.

I tried to push my words out louder than a whisper, "What are you doing here?"

"I have been trying to contact you.. more regularly as of recently."

"I have no intention of being a booty call anymore."

His eyebrows scrunched and he blinked.

I went to shut the door as I said, "goodbye Loki."

Loki's hand shot out and kept the door opened. "You were never."

I huffed in annoyance as hope rose slightly in my chest. Then the doubts from depression took that hope and buried it 20 feet further than before. Tears pricked my eyes after the past hour of seeming to be gone and dried.

Loki's face was of concern when he asked, "may I come in?"

My face felt like it contorted into pure agony as I tried to hide the sob erupting from my aching heart. I tried to swallow the huge lump in my throat but it caused further pain. Then finally from the pain that emitted from deep within me, the tears fell.

I was in the hurricane of emotion from having a visitor.

Joy from not being alone then, to the horror of having to explain.

There was too much to explain... My reason for treating him so vastly different since we met. My emotional state. All my emotions. My appearance of myself and my house. The medication on the counter that had purpose. My illness and why once again I was crying harder. Trying to explain what was WRONG with me and why I needed the medication.

Loki sat beside me at the messy and cluttered kitchen table.

"What do you mean you were 'too good' at the time we met?"

I sniffed but still had to wipe my nose. "It's a symptom of bipolar disorder. I can literally feel too good at some points of my life. I had unbelievable amounts of confidence and optimism. It's called hypomania. That's not who I am. I am much-MUCH more responsible than getting drunk and having unprotected sexual intercourse with someone I know nothing about on an intellectual level."

I watched Loki's tongue swipe his lips as they pressed together and eyebrows scrunched again in thought.

Finally he spoke, "Your vast knowledgeable facts from our FIRST conversation have been playing on that TV throughout our conversation. I can see several things that show your bright mind. The very mind I fell for."

My eyes glanced at him once again. "My knowledge does not change. Just the optimism, focus, and desire for it."

Things seemed to be clicking in Loki's mind. He looked at the medications once again and did not take his eyes off of them. "If you continue your treatment, you will be what you deem normal?"

A small smile pulled my lips as a puff of air escaped from my amusement. "Yes. What I deem as normal. Not anyone else meaning I will be back to my healthy self... If I could remember to take my medicine."

"I am going to help you because I want to see the happy medium that you keep mentioning. It seems that I have seen you at all of your worst moments." He gave me a side glance with a smile pulling at his lips, "I assume there is something I must like out of your normal."

I began to smile but a frown quickly placed it. "There is no telling when I will be normal again."

Gold shimmered over my medication.

"Perhaps now it will become easier to stay on your medication regimen."

I grabbed a bottle and examined it once there was no longer gold around it. "What did you do?"

"I will know where these containers are and be able to move them. I will also know when you open them." He got the spare phone out of his pocket, "should I not be able to contact you again through phone, I will simply move these containers to you."

I felt a little happier as I teased, "I guess simply blocking your number is not going to work anymore?"

Loki smiled, "There are plenty of other numbers I could use."

Loki did help me. There had to be a little adjustment to his plan of keeping track of my medicine. He bought a specific little container made for sorting pills into daily doses. He would help me fill the daily spots for medication and he put another enchantment on that one as well. 

Everyday he would come to my place and help with things that needed to be done. He would compliment me when I needed it. He would hold me when medication would make me drowsy. He would urge me to eat when I did not want to. He helped me make healthier choices when I wanted to devour the whole house.

He actually took me to nice restaurants when I felt decent enough to get out.

He would always know everything about my medication and with him being able to literally hold it in my face at any point in the day… well there was no longer the option to forget.

Loki was the constant supply of water to my thirst for knowledge. Due to that type of relationship we really connected. Like really connected. We talked about everything to varying levels of importance and on both ends were voicemails with ridiculous ways to entice the other to call back.

Sometimes I would purposely ignore his calls just to see what the next stupid thing would be left in my mailbox… I listened to the recent one just left on my phone a minute ago.

"I know your games by now, so call me back. ...My declarations of love can wait until you tell me what sweet thing I am craving. I am at the store, so do hurry up before I decide to buy 5 of everything in the candy isle." There was a faint sound of the typical background noise in a store. "Please hurry… I fear I am going to need a bigger cart."

[fantroll-purgatory]

first submission here!

First troll I’m sending in here I’m EXCITED AND NERVOUS about how this is gonna go down! AaaaaH!

This is a really solid troll! You’ve really though these things out. I’m probably going to have minimal recommendations for changes!  World: AU Alternia! Many of this AU’s differences don’t effect this first fantroll I’m sending for review here though; and I feel as if it would be more applicable to put the AU differences with characters that are heavily influenced in that regard. Name: Dipala Venmor - Dipala comes from the scientific name of a species of bee-flies. She’s quite the “busy bee” and has a love of gossip or being like a ‘fly on the wall’, hence the connection. And bee flies are a species of insect that invade actual bee hives to lay their eggs and raise their young. So with goldbloods having an association with bees; I figured that Dipala’s theme being that of a “fake bee” and being a caste below them would make for a weird joke in context. - Venmor comes from the vena amorus, or the vein of love. It’s supposedly a vein located in the ring finger that is connected to the heart directly. Which is why we put wedding rings on our ring fingers and whatnot. She’s looking for love, pity, hate, and rivalry in all the wrong places. ((more on that later, ha ha.))

These are both great names for her! One comment I have is that bees aren’t so much associated with golds as they are associated with Sollux in particular. Remember that on Alternia, bees are probably most associated with technology because of the power of Apiculture Networking. I think Bee Fly is still a great themeatic tie for her, though. She is both interested in technology through webdesigning and leeches off of other people. Very Bee Fly. 

Age: 7 sweeps ((approximately around 15 years old))

Story: ((Don’t worry I included info for her theme after the goals section; as I felt that understanding my goals for this would make the theme troubles make sense in context!!)) Onto Dip’s story synopsis real quick: Dipala Venmor is one of my fantroll session’s premier troublemakers. She’s a HUGE gossip loving, rumor mongering, wannabe information broker for the Alternian Fleet…… although because of her blood color she’ll most likely get stuck moving cargo around a ship than deal with any sort of secret spilling and collecting job that would be more in-line for olives and up. And that she’s also still a kid so no ship will be picking her up anytime soon. But hey; she can still have a hobby, right? There have to be other trolls interested in the scandalous happenings in the world besides herself…… right? Unfortunately for us and whatever troll catches Dipala’s eyes… she’s not exactly wrong about her fellow trolls across the hemospectrum wanting to know this sort of shit. So for now she mostly runs a couple of blogs and social media accounts dealing with all kinds of Alternian gossip around celebrities of all kinds and highblood shenanigans. Especially highbloods though because she adores all the drama they get into and start up 24/7 given their more aggressive natures and whatnot. To her it’s just like watching reality TV! However she’s also keen to spread falsehoods too, just to see what would happen. She’d also probably be deader than a doornail at this point if it weren’t for a lot of her innate talents and being REALLY FRIGGIN’ GOOD AT BEING DISHONEST AND SNEAKY. When she isn’t causing trouble and gathering facts and half-truths to keep herself safe and sound or her and her followers sick amusement; she works as a kind of job that’s a mix between a medical assistant and a tech support gal for other trolls in her humble suburb/subgrub area; and accepting supplies of mind honey as payment so she can satisfy one preferred half of her lusus’ diet. She knows her way around all sorts of troll biotech due to her more pervasive hobbies and her own psychic powers; so by extension Dipala is quite knowledgeable on how things work and how the tech interacts with the rust/bronze/gold and limebloods it can inevitably involve. So some of the trolls in her hivestem/apartment complex view her as exceptionally important and helpful despite her many, MANY secrets. Why she doesn’t pursue this as a main hobby instead of her other far more invasive ones is beyond me. Other than that she interacts and befriends/becomes enemies with/flirts with the other trolls in her eventual Sgrub session. And will hopefully become a better person after that shiny new universe pops into existence. I hope. I’m still very much scripting out how I want her, her session, and my fankids’ stories work out. So I hope I managed to be concise about what I have for her story thus far!!

One thing you should definitely ask about this background is how a bronzeblood like her got access to the medical equipment necessary to take care of medical assistant stuff. I know she has the psychic powers that you discuss later down the line, but there’s still a bit of technical particularity to be accounted for and we’ve seen that lowblood access to medical care is questionable (they don’t get prescription glasses but they do get wheelchairs if they need) (who knows what Alternia is doing). 

Does she home-grow the materials she needs for biomedical implants. Does she work Under another, richer troll who has more resources and can thus provide this service? Did she USED to work under another, richer troll and then steal their shit/kill them/usurp them/blackmail them/etc? 

Oh oh oh another fun thing you could do is try to play like. The Doctor-Barber sort of angle. She’s the local medical helped and ALSO the local hairdresser for all the other lowbloods in the hivestem. And you know what hairdressers do? Gossip. What a busy bee (; 

Another question is why she doesn’t just grow the apiculture network to produce mind honey herself? Silicomb Beehouses sound like exactly the kind of biotechnological material she might be able to impact with her psychic powers. Bronzes love Creature Comforts, so her making her own lususfood and using payment to buy herself nice things would be more in line with Bronze Tendencies. Chase that highblood luxury from the comfort of your shitty apartment. 

Goals: Hooo boy how am I gonna put all of my billions of questions here?? I want to make sure my girl Dipala here isn’t a Vriska ripoff. As well as making sure that she’s an okay character and not overpowered in general. 

She’s definitely not a Vriska ripoff! She has a totally different character and set of interests to Vriska. Was Vriska a biomedical gossip girl? Is Dipala an ancestor-obsessed pirate? No to both of those? You’re good. You’re un-Vriska. For further clarification, I had a LOT of fantrolls and kids. I now downsized the trolls back down to 12 to fit a “session theme” like the canon ones did with the zodiac. However; all my trolls still have a lot of remnants of their older themes mixed with the new, so I’m also kind of paranoid that wouldn’t work or be concise and concrete enough for them if that makes any sense? My trolls were also all created before Hiveswap and the Friendsim; so many of the psychic powers I gave my fantrolls then wouldn’t technically be canon. But at the same time I also feel like straight up changing their powers to the more canon ones kind of messes with their themes and who they are as characters.

Characters in homestuck always have multiple things going on that make them more well-rounded and interesting! Equius was into archery and horses because he was Sagittarius themed, but he also liked Robotics, and that didn’t take away from the cohesion of his character. More interests and themeatic building can sometimes take away from a theme if it doesn’t make sense, but generally speaking, additional layers of complexity are a good thing.

As for powers, there’s usually ways to keep them similar while also tightening them up into EZ Standards anyways!  I also feel as if my characters or parts of them are “too quirky”. Seeing as Homestuck has a lot of weird stuff going on in it that make it what it is, I’ve been trying to sort of channel that into all my ocs. And whether or not I’m successful with that, I legitimately have no idea. Sometimes I feel as if I may have went over the top to a ridiculous degree or am making a character way too bland and uninteresting.

Listen, writing characters (especially HS characters) is all about having fun. So long as you’re having a good time, Quirk It Up. Homestuck is all about batshit characterization.  I should also add that I’m the anon from WAAAAAAY back who youth rolled into your ask box asking about character interests and their voice, and how to differentiate them. And other than than that the only thing I can think of that I’d be remotely confused about would be the dream moon and classpect! Because when you got 12 trolls who can’t share the aspects/classes etc; things can get a tad difficult figuring which aspect goes well with which character. In conclusion: I’m actually very nervous and could use all the help I can get!

Well, we’ll help you sort it all out! Theme: My overarching theme for my 12 trolls are all the lyrics to the Twelve Days of Christmas song. Each troll represents one of the gifts given to the singer in that song. However the order of the gifts given isn’t the hemospectrum order; but the order in which the trolls enter their game’s Medium. Dipala here is the fifth gift! The five gold rings! However she also has a bit of a spy and “fly on the wall” theme going on that’s a remnant of her being a Musca constellation themed troll. But I thought the old theme could work and mix well with the new theme. I mean there is that old saying “like flies to honey”; as in trapping things by seeming “””nice”””. Honey is gold and sweet. And since she’s so tricky; she’s not even an actual goldblood. She’s basically a trickery sandwich with layers of lies. And if you REALLY want to get crazy, the mineral Pyrite can come in colors similar the to the color of bronze used in the hemospectrum. Pyrite is called fool’s gold. Dipala is deceptive and isn’t actually goldblooded despite her psychic powers.

What you’re doing here is what I call “overjustifying.” You don’t have to do backflips of logic to explain two concurrent themes. To go back to Vriska- she’s obviously spider/scorpio themed, but she also is themed around pirates, and it’s not because (what I’m about to say is made up) Pirates Used To Use Scorpio To Guide Themselves While At Sea And– no, she just likes pirates. She just has fun doing pirate things. You don’t have to stress yourself out trying to make these kinds of connections, because they can ultimately cheapen things and make them feel one-note. She is 5-gold-ring themed and also likes to gossip and spy on people. Don’t stress about it too much, that’s all you gotta say.  Also she’s bronze because the symbol language is big on circles. The shape of rings. And seeing as I already have had my trolls with an established blood color for so long; Dipala to me looks really off to be and does not fit the personality parameters that the gold signs seem to have in the extended zodiac. And to me making the goldblood the “five gold rings” character felt too obvious, and her design with the goldblood color pallet didn’t look right to me either and I wanted to try subverting expectations. Whether this does or does not work well with Dipala, I’ll leave that for you rad blog mods to help me with this if you feel I might have picked the wrong color and whatnot. 

I think she works well for a bronze! You’ll just have to do the legwork to make her fit that bronzeblood coloration, but I definitely think she suits it well. I also think you need to stop leaning on the goldblood association so much. Don’t worry about it. No one is going to connect her to goldbloods if you don’t draw that connection yourself.  Hopefully that makes her name meaning and my goals for the review here a bit more clear!

Strife Specibus: Taserkind. She’s bug themed kinda so it makes her a bug zapper. I will not apologize for this shocking pun. Gold is also a metal that conducts electricity pretty well. She’s the five gold rings. S T E A L T H  P U N S .

Fetch Modus: Password Journal. You ever see those shitty password journal toys that were voice activated? And how you had to be super clear when saying your password to get it open again? And how nine times out of ten it was just a shitty piece of technology that just never worked when you needed it to? That’s Dipala’s modus. And unlike the biotech she works with; this is that same shitty hunk of plastic. She thought it would be cool to use a modus that’s so mysterious and eccentric. But now she just regrets putting her mitts on the thing and now has to deal with a piece of tech she has no frame of reference for how it works. Buuuut she’s also too stubborn to give up on figuring out on how it works now! Any day she’ll figure it out!! As for how she came across a modus unlike the rest of her world’s tech? Her modus was sent with her on her respective Sgrub meteor as a wiggler.

Okay I love this.

Blood Color: Bronze

Symbol and Meaning: It’s a combination of multiple symbols to fit the bronzeblood alphabet and her theme. Said mix includes five empty circles to represent the five gold rings. But it also combines the alchemical sign for honey and the astronomical sign for the sun. The sun has ties to gold symbolically; and the honey alchemy symbol is actually in reference to her lusus! The positioning of the sign was also done to slightly reflect for the symbol used for the Musca ((or fly)) constellation. And for the record, I have a headcanon that IS canon in my AU Alternia that each sign in the extended zodiac as a HUGE variety of alternate signs for each sign. In Dipala’s case, her symbol would be one of the many, MANY variants for the Taurittanius sign. Or, if you think Void or Prospit shouldn’t be Dipala’s respective aspect and dream moon; it would then be a variant for whatever the name of her “new” zodiac sign she’d get upon revision.

I think that’s a good way to look at things, and it works well for the sign language!

Handle: gadflysFalderal [GF] Gadfly refers to a person who antagonizes or pokes fun at another person just for the heck of it. It’s also a pun because of her “fly on the wall” theming here. Falderal is a synonym for nonsense and can also mean a showy but useless item, fussing over things and can also refer to a “meaningless refrain in a song”. Also her trolltag’s acronym is GF. Her dream of some sort of future quadrant romance is right out there in the open. ((I should also give a quick heads up that my kids’ and trolls’ handles go by a different four letter username pattern. The canon gang all had the GCAT to choose from because it’s tied to DNA and how they have all participated in creating a new life/universe. But here the go-to acronym is GIFT. Because the troll’s overarching theme is of the aforementioned obnoxious Christmas carol.))

Quirk: All uses of s become two z’s. Z’s also double. When excited or expressive she quintuples all of her o’s. Also uses a TON of heart emojis that look like little bugs; and will every once in a while make a few bug puns. Like “Do I have your antennation??” or “if you would listen I wouldn’t have to bug you all the time!” and even asking at times for “hive fives!”. She uses these puns very rarely though; and more often than not the shitty jokes are just utilized to annoy the ever-loving fuck out of people for the heck of it. Her online disposition is basically an unholy slurry combination of an overly and almost sickeningly sweet attitude with a somewhat subverted “”valley girl”” or “popular and prissy popular middle school girl”” archetype. Be very afraid. Here have some quirk examples real quick: The quick, brown fox jumpzz over the lazzy dooooog! 03 03 03

This is great.

Special Abilities: Dipala can “commune” psychically with troll biotechnology. Since troll tech seems to be a weirdass unknown husk thing; and living tendrils can connect to psiionic trolls to power friggin’ SPACESHIPS… I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for a troll to have superpowers to talk/slightly control the stuff through thoughts alone. If bronzebloods talking or controlling animals is a very common psychic ability for them, why not their biotech? However; since her old eye got stabbed and replaced with a robot one by a friend of hers after an accident… her ability feels “muffled” to her; as she can accidentally mess with her own eye inadvertently if she isn’t paying attention or experiencing stress or frustration with communing with these kinds of computers. So it works, but she has to really put her all in it to figure out what’s going on with it. use it. However; after she turned 6 sweeps, she started to develop a second psychic power.

Biotech IS a living organism that isn’t a troll, so I definitely think it falls under the dominion of what bronzes would be able to communicate with. But we have seen through Vriska and Equius that Robotics and Biotechnology are definitely two differentiated things on Alternia. She would need a biotech eye specifically if it was going to be a problem. And even then you could argue that maybe her eye could Advance her powers in that instance? Maybe that could even be the initiation for the second psychic power (;  This “newer” psychic power is she can read troll’s minds. She’s unsure of how exactly she developed it in the first place; but she hypothesizes it might be tied to how often she’d interact with the occasional troll tied into all sorts of gadgets. It takes a LOT of concentration on her part to get it to work. If she gets extremely angry, frustrated, flustered, or upset it might not work at all; or even succeed but giving her the wrong thought or piece of information that she intended to use or want to find out. And even then, since she’s only been practicing with it for one sweep thus far; it still can get very bad or unwanted information. She could intend to pull out a secret she wants to know deep in her target’s brain; but end up receiving and experiencing the target’s daydream or find out what they’re going to get at the grocery store that day.This power works on all trolls, but Dipala’s power is also in danger of being useless if the  one specific troll in question is experiencing forgetfulness, confusion, or other kinds of memory or knowledge issues her target might be experiencing. The thoughts she could get back from these instances are either incredibly jumbled or incomprehensible to varying degrees, or she might not get back or find anything at all!

Remember that lowblood psychic powers don’t work as well against highbloods and that ceruleans in particular have a very strong psychic fortitude. If you don’t want her to be overpowered, keep this thing in mind. Her abilities would probably be least effective against Ceruleans, Blues, and Indigos, with Ceruleans and Indigos probably giving her some type of consequence for trying to jack into their brains. Get chucklevoodoo’d, motherfucker.  Her robot eye offers her psychic powers very little in the way of improving them. She can access a sort of lock-on like targeting system to help her with focusing and honing in on the thoughts she wants to extract from troll’s heads… but since her eye has a built-in tech that gives her 24/7 access to the internet……. She often gets social media updates at the worst times possible and break her focus. It’s kind of hard to see things when a random ad pops up in her field of vision. She can scroll through troll’s version of twitter even while she’s sleeping and unconscious, but at what cost? And yes, she is often exposed to pro-empire popup ads and subliminal messages like Jane Crocker was exposed to on her computer in canon, too. I also like the idea that when she is using her powers or in deep thought about something, her little robotic pupil turns into the swirly loading circle ring-like cursor. Or use emojis or emoticons in real life inadvertently. For one example, if someone gave her a wonderful surprise gift her pupil would look like her quirk’s hearts emoticons: 03 03 03. I’d give more ridiculous examples, but there’s waaaaay more important things I gotta put in this wall of text submission still! Lusus/Guardian: A bugbear. Just imagine a very large bear with fly or bug-like eyes and antennae. Yeah it’s kinda freaky. Its main diet consists of mind honey and all sorts of raw meats. And due to her confined living space in a hivestem apartment complex, Dipala often has to take her mom for walks to keep it healthy, fit, and regulated. The last thing you want is an angry bear with cabin fever in your home! Her lusus also accompanies her and is utilized in her current field of work/psychic help day job. And the younger trolls Dipala helps LOVE her lusus, as it isn’t too aggressive in regards to younger and fairly harmless young trolls and their respective animal parents. But like most bears, you don’t mess with it and it won’t mess with you. And because of this lusus; you can see that Dipala’s symbol has the alchemy honey sign incorporated into it is a reference to bear paws, like her bearmom!

Interests: Gossip, stalking ((although she would never refer to it as such)), social media, blogging, trolling online, investigative journalism, writing diary entries ((and reading other diaries that do not belong to her)), web design, quite a few other computer or technology related activities, people watching and lurking on other’s social media pages, homemade remedies and first aid, social events ((like nights out with her friends, parties, dates, tutoring younger trolls with tech stuff, just hanging out in general)), TV crime dramas like Alternia’s equivalent to Law and Order and whatnot, romance shows, any sort of big star-studded movie, anything in media related to secret agents or spies ((she has crushes on the many different Troll James Bonds)), and is slightly involved in online fandom’s shipping and fanart culture for her respective shows and movies. She would also enjoy shopping; but given how the Alternia’s retail businesses and delivering or selling things to lowbloods being late and whatnot……. Yeah she has a bit of a love/hate relationship with the activity.

Okay… you know how sometimes people online will create social media accounts posing as celebrities. What if she does that sometimes. Engaging passionately in RPF really ups the Creepy Factor. Also: 

[Dipala voice] Tell me Kenneth, has a cheesy tabloid journalist ever won the Pulitzer?

(Don’t mind me I have terminal referencing Scream (1996) disease)

Personality: Dipala is an exceptionally cheery and bubbly gal. She loves socializing and interacting with other people not only a socialite level; but a sociological one as well. As I’ve stated prior in the submission here; she’s really good at keeping things under wraps despite her jabberjaw tendency and preference to be overly affectionate and predominantly open with most people who come into contact with her. Despite hiding a lot of various kinds of info or secrets isn’t using a facade to hide things as a distraction; she really is this energetic and socially indulgent with others. Which might be worse, now that I think about it. 

In contrast to most teens in her age group; she’s surprisingly confident in herself and actually has a healthy level self-esteem that doesn’t trail off into outright arrogance. And combing this confidence with her sugary-sweet demeanor, she can be quite the effective manipulator if the need arises. Making Dipala equally likely to be a suck up and kiss-ass when in trouble, or make someone feel really bad about themselves if they do something bad to her. She’s also outgoing in the sense that she has a lot in common with the stereotypical romance-obsessed, drama queen teen girl trope. Think Mabel from Gravity Falls and her search for romance, being flirty, and dreaming about “typical” things for this age group like swooning over teen stars and whatever cute stuff she can get her hands on despite her economic place in the hemospectrum; and then you’ll have a good start with understanding how Dipala acts. And all parties involved with her for an extended period of time, whether at an acquaintance level or an actual friend/platonic enemy should expect to eventually receive an embarrassing nickname and teasing to a certain varying degree. But heaven help anyone who she could potentially get romantically involved with… because they’ll be getting more than one of those. And if one isn’t cool with that? Yeah, with Dipala that ain’t happening. She is exceptionally persistent and stubborn not only with her treatment with others; but with her pursuit of her hobbies, or trying multiple times to improve her psychic powers. Much like her trollhandle implies, you could probably look up the word “gadfly” in a dictionary and see her face right next to the definition. And if she wasn’t under gadfly, your second best bet would be to look under “hypocrite”. She may find the idea of knowing a ton of damaging or private information; but loathes people snooping around her stuff. Like if you wanted to know the answer you’re looking for why didn’t you just ask her, dear? Snooping around behind her back is so rude! She worked really hard to figure these things out, you jerk! Dipala is as excited to help people as she is equally excited to maybe screw someone over socially….. or just be incredibly apathetic for the sake of figuring out why someone acts the way they do or what’s going on with their lives. If they’re a lowblood they can deal with the hate because others around her own caste deal with this all the time! And highbloods are just rich, bloodthirsty, sometimes well dressed and dreamy, drama-filled sources for intrigue or for a few shits and giggles that she objectifies to a degree. She can make a few exceptions in regards to the people she is closest to, or if the person in question is bribing or making some sort of deal with her. But other than that it is all secrets and info is on the table. I’d describe her take on the hemospectrum as a really odd mix between everyone’s least favorite Hiveswap shitlord Zebruh and Daraya Jonjet. She glorifies the violent culture highbloods propagate because she finds it to be really entertaining to learn about and pry into. Kind of like how we would or others would watch petty reality TV shows and controversial government scandals for. Highbloods also tend to be more “attractive” due to their easy access to material goods and whatnot to do so in the first place. But like Daraya, she is a little frustrated that despite all she does she can’t really do too much. So Dipala takes it upon herself emotionally to make the life she wants and to have fun while she can. But she would suppose and sometimes feel that being so low isn’t too bad. As the possibility that highbloods never really expect any low ranking troll to be this conniving. Like most every normal living thing, of course she doesn’t want to die a terrible death. But life is technically short for every Alternian to some degree. If she’s culled for having a grand old time that’s your problem. Your loss for killing a potentially good informant or loyal adherent of the empire!

There’s so much going on here that it’s hard to comment on any one particular part, but you’ve definitely put a lot of love and thought into her personality and it shows! She’s a really well-rounded character and I love that. 

Lunar Sway: Prospit! Even though she has what could be considered a rebellious personality. She’s more of a sneaky “adapt to the environment” kinda gal given her interests and how she goes about her life. Hopefully I’m interpreting the moons correctly?

I think she’s definitely a prospitan. Prospit folks can rebel just as well as dersites, they just tend to, as you say, do it adaptively instead of destructively. She’s also reactive and prone to being somewhat capricious and she’s intuitive, emotional. The one prospitan thing she doesn’t have so much of is the ‘openness,’ but even then she’s also not like a Hides Herself Wholly kind of gal. Prospit all the way.

Title: Witch of Void. Witches “rebel” their aspect from what I understand from a couple of classpect blogs. So Dipala “rebels” in a sense to the idea that things should be secrets or mystery and is just. In everyone’s beeswax whether they allowed her to or not. ALSO since Equius in canon had trouble being detected and created a void around him ((which was why scratch couldn’t find his cue ball, as Vriska was his neighbor)); I thought it fit that Dipala has the Void aspect given her shadiness and inability to be found by those who would probably really want to find or suspect her. I also thought Void worked because it is connected to the Furthest Ring in the medium. More ring-theme references aplenty! 

I also like the idea of her messing with the void and the horrorterrors beyond for information; only to be knocked down a shit-ton of pegs because her mind wouldn’t be able to process the “truths” or information they would potentially tell her about Sgrub goings-on, her planet’s quest or things that a 15 year old would never be able to comprehend like most people who encounter incomprehensible things. And eventually it would help her understand that somethings are not meant to be known before one is ready; and that spilling secrets is not only a bad thing for Dipala to do; but it could put those she learns or cares about into trouble they might not want to partake in. Given her mischievous personality, really fucking creepy behavior, and Alternian upbringing it’d be quite a while for the classpect to stamp it out entirely but… hope springs eternal. However I could very well be completely wrong and inaccurate with giving her this classpect too!

I dunno where the “rebel” thing came from. I think most people read too much into Rose’s inversion and imagine that this means something grander about Witches than it really does. Does Jade “rebel” space? Does Feferi “rebel” life? Does Damara “rebel” time? Nope! (And really I’m not even sure what that would mean in the context of any of these). They all just have an intimate understanding of their opposite aspect that they use to inform their decisions wrt their Own aspect. Witches are (at least in this blog’s common interpretation) the active Changers.

They twist and shape and change things to fit their needs and their understanding. Just like Jade changes the size of planets and bends space around her and Feferi used her in with the horrorterrors to change the nature of life itself by creating the dreambubbles.

So a Witch of Void is going to change what is and isn’t hidden, which I DO still think fits Dipala here decently well. But I almost think she could be a… Thief of Void? Not to accidentally call upon that old Vriska worry, because the motive is wholly different. It’s just that her digging is in fact self-serving and she steals secrecy away from everyone else to hide herself. Of course, this COULD hurt her by encouraging her already bad traits, so maybe Rogue of Void might be the way to go if you want to encourage her to be more considerate of others. That Passive Player Life.

Land: Land of Pits and Golems or LOPAG. Dipala has to use her void-y powers to make sure her consorts and denizen don’t learn any of the secrets of these giant dangerous golem super weapons that lurk in ancient pits and ruins across her planet. Since I’m unsure if Dipala will still remain a Void player after this review; I’m keeping the description of the land short and sweet on purpose.

Sounds good to me! 

Design corner: At first glance I was worried that her design read too… I don’t know, Trying To Be Teal, but honestly the more I’ve looked at it the more I think it works for her. That bronze Creature Comfort thing shines through and it fits well with her kind of romanticization of high blood life. This could be one of those things where she saved up a ton of money for a long time just to buy a particular cute jean jacket just because an influencer advertised it to her. Or she bought it on Troll Wish. it’s fine. But yeah I like her look! I’d rethink the yellow eye since it dos call to mind the goldblood thing, but otherwise no changes.

Thanks in advance for my reviewing my fantroll! I look forward to seeing your verdict whenever that may be! 👍

Thank you for your submission, I had a great time with this one! 

-CD

[absolutelaw-blog]

ANOTHER MUNDAY PROMPT. *  remember to repost, not reblog!

name:   billie.

preferred pronouns:  they / them ! 

selectivity:  i stick to mutuals, but i do tend to follow back most people who follow me  ;  generally, i’m good with writing with people as long as they’re nice to me. be as mean to kris as you want (   he deserves it   ) , but if you’re mean to me ooc i’m gonna drop you. also, this is only kinda related but it’s something i’ve been meaning to say  :  i do my fancy formatting and stuff because i like it, but i promise i don’t judge anyone who doesn’t bother with that shit. i always worry that people will think i’m judging them for not being Fancy and it’s like, nah, just bc i’m a slave to aesthetics doesn’t mean you gotta be. be free 

favorite animal:  i love every dog in the world so fucking much. do you understand me. every dog. all of them. every single dog. there is not a dog in existence that i do not love with all of my heart 

favorite muse you’ve had so far ever: kristoph is up there, tbh. he’s the worst, but he’s so much fucking fun to write. other than him . . . i wrote the eleventh doctor for a long time, i know doctor whomstsoever is ‘ cringey ’ or whatever now but i’ve still got a huge soft spot for the show. i also wrote par/ty poi/son bc i’m a dumb emo and always will be. i’m thinking of bringing him back for 2019 tbh. but i’d have to make a theme and that’s work. 

muse you kinda wanna pick up: [ stares at my dear sweet simon blackquill wistfully from a distance ] you are so valid 

most identifiable fictional character:  what do you mean by identifiable ?  like i identify with them or i recognize them quickly or what ?  i really do not understand this question

what color your aura is/think it is: bright red babey 

personality stuff you agree with (astrology, mbti, hogwarts house, etc. be as specific as you want): aqua sun leo moon virgo rising, intp, switches between ravenclaw and slytherin depending on my mood 

do you think you’re a good driver:  i’m almost 21 and i still don’t have my license because i’m too anxious. what do YOU fucking THINK 

favorite minor discourse:  what does this mean. does it mean small stupid discourse. we’re going with milk vs. anti-milk. every anti-milk post fuels my milk drinking ways and my bones are stronger than yours good night 

favorite vine and/or meme: my favorite vine will always and forever be judas no. u cannot change this

why did you choose this muse:  fun fact, i went into aa : aj fully expecting to come out of it musing klavier. all i knew about the game before playing it was 1) that it had a new protag who wasn’t nick, and 2) that the prosecutor was a rock star. and ‘ edgy rocker ’ is actually one of my muse tropes ?  so i was like. ah, i’ll probably pick up this guy. then i actually played the game and HE HAD A BROTHER ?  [me voice] TWO OF THEM ???  and said brother happened to be a combination of several of my muse tropes, including ‘ pretentious nerd  ’ and ‘ ambitious villain, ’ and i was like. well. this dumb idiot is mine now because i have bad taste disease i guess. nothing we can do about it. so here i am 

favorite rp memory:  oh gosh i have. too many. i don’t rly have a specific one but tbh just ?  all the amazing friends i’ve met on this blog, and through rp in general. i’m seriously really grateful for the people i’ve met bc i picked up this hobby, i’ve made some truly incredible friends and i’m so so glad for it 

give a shoutout to someone: @justicedefended / @truthserenade immediately popped their head up when i did and that’s tru fuckin friendship right there. i would die for lex at any time and i need all of u to know that 

tagged by:  @burstbombbitch (   who i also love with all my heart ?  wow ??   ) 

tagging: whomstsoever wants to do this tbh. i am very tired and too lazy to think of people so please just steal it from me 

[unkindnessofone]

5SOS. All My Heroes

Another long one. Please enjoy. I love knowing what you think! This particular story is dedicated to @nottafangirlblog who achieved great stuff in her course today and deserves to be celebrated! 

Holding his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to keep his emotions inward, Luke sat on his daughter's new futon in her shoe box bachelor apartment and just stared at her silently as she busied herself in her very cozy kitchenette. Penelope looked truly happy, radiating for the first time in a while Luke noted. She had on a large white Connor Wylie Music shirt, stained with grease from cooking, and very colourful elephant pants on. Her long sandy hair was tied in two tight space buns, frizzy from sleep, and her eyes were focused on the frying pan in her hand. 

As utterly delicious as her small apartment had been smelling since he arrived five minutes ago from the hotel he had been living in, Luke's senses weren't in check. He couldn't register the sound of horns honking outside her window, the scent of cinnamon and butter sizzling pan, the sight of his daughter practically dancing as she flipped pancakes, the taste of his stale hotel room coffee painting the walls of his mouth, or the feeling of his jeans rough and unwashed under his dry palms. All Luke was doing was trying to figure out a way to stay. He had already tacked two extra days onto his time in Paris, too scared to leave Penelope behind. 

"Are you sure you are ready to be on your own?" He couldn't hold it in anymore, Luke's question flew out of his mouth as soon as their blue eyes met in the tiny room, cutting her off before she could begin to ask if he wanted milk or juice with the breakfast she was preparing. Penelope had been so excited to use her stove top for the first time that she went all out at the nearby convenience store. 

"Yeah." Penelope answered quickly. She knew it for a fact. "I wouldn't have applied to a school in a Europe if I wasn't ready to be alone." Her answer didn't calm Luke's nerves though. He knew his daughter felt she was born ready for anything. With the same hand that was holding her plastic black spatula, Penelope scratched at her chin where small red bumps were forming. She had inherited Luke's acne prone skin and the new French air was different than the Sydney wind that she grew up in. "Dad, I'm ready." Sliding the first fluff cinnamon pancake onto a teal with mustard yellow damask plate, Penelope's promised. She reached out her arm to offer it to him, bringing her dad from the folded futon to the petite table for two that was attached to her kitchen wall. "My therapist told you I made great progress, the neurologist said she didn't see any reason for me to not go. I haven't surfed in almost a year, I don't drive anymore, I don't drink, I haven't even been on a swing set since Snapper Rock..." She felt like she was making a great case for herself, but her Dad's face wasn't giving her much indication of whether or not he was convinced. He just looked like a man enjoying his breakfast which made Penny happy enough. She had taken to cooking because she wanted some independence in her life after her surfing accident. She just wanted a hobby so she wouldn't long for the ocean anymore. While Penelope knew nothing would ever make her feel like surfing had, she did enjoy being creative in the kitchen. Her friends could take on the waves and she would work on creating the world's best taco salad. "Can I get you juice or milk?" Pouring batter into the pan for her own pancake, she asked.

"I'll get it." Clearing his threat, Luke rose from the wooden stool that he had hauled up eight flights to stairs and went to her fridge with it's broken door. Penelope thought it was perfect. "It would be okay if you wanted me to stay." 

Penelope couldn't find a polite way to express that she really didn't want him to, "Dad, I need this adventure." She had always been a wild weed that he could not control despite multiple attempts. Losing her ability to be reckless and high energy had felt debilitating for Penelope. She hadn't been excited since the accident until she applied for culinary school in Paris. It wasn't as if she couldn't study in Sydney because she could. She really just wanted something new again, she wanted to feel exhilarated. Penelope had been dreaming of having her life back and this felt like a direct path. 

Luke felt the sense of urgency in Penny's voice and leaned into it. He knew that she had felt like a prisoner inside of her self since having to give up surfing via doctor's orders. He just couldn't find any tranquility within himself when he imagined walking out the door and leaving her to her own wits in a city that she didn't know with a language barrier. 

"I promise to Skype every Monday after school. Didn't you and Grandma have a thing like that when you toured?" Penelope really couldn't remember if that was true or not. It wasn't because of her slow memory, but just because she had never actually known the arrangement between her Grandma Liz and her dad.

"She came with me on my first tour actually." He smiled with maple syrup on his lips as he sat back at the table. 

"Well, good thing I'm not touring." Flipping her flapjack in the sizzling pan, Penelope smiled smugly over at him. "Good, right?" She asked referring to the breakfast she had made. Cinnamon pancakes were the first thing she made that he had really liked, eating two stacks when she made them for her family. 

"They're great." He assured even though she didn't need it. "Mondays for Skype and texts every night after work." She had managed to hook herself up with a job garnishing dishes and preparing ingredients in a popular tapas place in her neighborhood, Montemare. Penny wanted a spot at a bakery, but no one would take her with her grade level French. Cédaz would work though. She didn't have to interact with patrons, she could make money, work on her French, learn from accomplished chefs, and listen to jazz music on the weekends. It was a start point and, with her head injury, Penelope felt like she was getting very good at starting points. 

"Every night? Our time zones are totally different!" Laughing, Penny shook her head as she dumped her own giant pancake onto a plate and then shut off the stove. "What about I don't text you on a schedule, but if I miss a Monday Skype date, you can move here?" She straddled the empty stool and set herself up on the very little space that was left at the table, her eyes glowing down to meet Luke's as soon as he looked up from his plate. 

"I know you're kidding, but I will accept the counter offer." Pointing at her with his sticky used fork, Luke agreed and hesitantly chuckled with her. 

Silence came between them giving Penelope a chance to catch up to her dad with breakfast while it gave Luke an opportunity to try and feel more comfortable. He watched as Penny reached over and helped herself to a sip from his mug of milk. His grin grew like a empty balloon after a first exhale. It reminded him of when she was little and wanted to be part of every thing he did. If he was wearing a beanie, she had to have one. If he was gnawing on pretzels while watching TV, she wanted to share. When he would go to an award show, she would write her name on the inside of his hand, so she could come along somehow. Luke wasn't sure when but, Penelope had outgrown his influence somewhere and Luke never realized how badly he missed when she wanted to follow him like a shadow.

"When you were like 7 or 8, you threw a fit because we wouldn't buy you bunk beds." Luke interrupted their comfortable quiet, earning his daughter's eyes opening up behind the rim of the mug that had been his. They were so blue, enhanced by the teal of the cup, that Luke could see the waves she grew up chasing inside. "We were thinking about getting them for the twins for the place in Burbank and you wanted them too."

"I don't remember." She put the cup down by his plate and dug back into her pancake. Penelope hated when she couldn't remember things like she used to. The Burbank house barely rung a bell even if she knew it was a prominent place in her childhood.

"I had forgot to until now." At his own nostalgia, Luke offered a meek  smirk. It was funny because he hadn't recalled the memory ever before, but he could now remember her laying on the floor so clearly, pulling at her own shirt, and wailing. "We kept explaining to you," He and Cagney. "That you didn't need bunk beds because you didn't have a twin, eventually you just laid down in the middle of the Ikea pick up and cried because you wanted one that you and I could share." 

Embarrassed, Penelope rolled her eyes at herself. If her mouth hadn't been full, she would have called her younger self "a total gomer".

"Dad, are you going to start crying?" Very seriously, Penny asked with her pupils ready to roll the moment he answered. She had barely swallowed her bite, she just wanted to be ready. 

"No." Sternly, Luke grunted and stabbed the remaining bit of his breakfast. "I'm just proud of you." She never could handle when anyone was sentimental. Penelope preferred the future if she had to chose between it or the past. She always had been the type to just keep going. 

Luke realized that he wasn't that worried about Penelope being on her own in Paris. She had the world at her finger tips again - finally. She was going to start her new job that evening, she would explore and learn a new city, and she would make friends. People were attracted to Penelope whether or not they wanted to be. She could draw anyone in with her freckles and 'relaxed as a pool noodle' energy. Cagney had raised her to never be scared and he had taught her to have a healthy dose of fear. Together, they had made Penelope and Luke knew they had done something right with her. He had to return to Sydney and keep raising two boys. Maybe Penelope had outgrown him again, but he knew she would reach out if and when she needed him even if it was just for a sip of his milk or to help carry furniture. 

"Got any more pancakes?" Trying to be supportive of the reality she was choosing for herself, Luke asked. "I have a long flight ahead of me." He had to leave today. It was what she needed and that was more important.

***************************

He was so used to someone else planning his agenda that he had managed to book a horrible flight home, leaving him with an entire in New York before returning to Sydney where his youngest son was apparently bed ridden from heartbreak delivered by a one Daphne Hood. Luke and Calum hadn't even talked while he was in Paris, but Luke was really starting to worry now that the two facts had something to do with one another. He didn't think Calum would be that petty, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. They had never been in this sort of circumstance before.

While the cab was locked in traffic, Luke shut off his phone to preserve some battery. He looked around at the Flat Iron District he was entering and felt completely uninspired. He loved New York, but the skyscrapers that currently surrounded him felt lifeless. They didn't tell a story at all. He remembered once suggesting to Cagney that they set up shop somewhere in Saint Mark's, but Ashton and Simone had just found their dream house in Sydney and raved about how nice it was to not have any fans or paparazzi on their lawn or outside Molly's activities. At the time, Cagney was starting to feel symptoms of baby fever and she was obsessed with finding them a home away from fame since she felt confident they would grow up on the road most of the time. In her dream world, she would have raised their children in Minnesota where she grew up, but Luke compromised with a custom built mansion in a private area in Sydney. 

Sometimes he really wanted a real break from himself and Sydney had been a comfortable place to relax near family and be on his own when he needed to be. He supposed staying straight would have been more challenging in New York or Los Angeles than it was in Sydney, and it was not without its slip ups there either. He frowned at the building the yellow cab stopped in front of. There was a doorman waiting and then a security deal inside so he knew it was where his pseudo niece, Emmeline Clifford lived, but it was dull and drab. It didn't seem like the kind of place where she belonged at all. He hadn't even seen the neon light of a girl yet, but Luke could sense that something was off before he even stepped out onto the pavement. 

It was quarter to eleven in the evening and it dawned on Luke that he didn't mention to Emmeline that he was coming. Maybe she was out dancing on a table top or she could have been fast asleep due to an early call time. As he went to sign in with the front desk security employee, he realized he didn't know the kids like he did when they were small and forced the be on tour. It was possible that Emmeline still loved paper dolls and plastic pearls, but Luke doubted it.  

He took the elevator up to the 20th floor where Emmeline reigned over the Flat Iron district and had been for almost a month now. Luke wondered if he should have brought her something. It wasn't the right time for muffins or coffee, but he wondered if he should have thought to come with a house warming gift. That was always Cagney's department. He considered just giving her a check, but he knew that wasn't what most people considered sentimental or classy. 

The elevator released him with a bright ping and he was surprised to see Emmeline almost instantly. She was unlocking her door with a green Chloe purse thrown over her shoulder and a pair of torturous Brian Atwood pumps in the same hand she was using on the door. She didn't look like Emmeline though. She had long ginger hair that ran straight as a needle to the small of her back. Luke blinked at it and tried to figure out on his own if it was real or not. She must have been busy as a model these days, changing her hair the way normal folk changed their underwear. 

It was her though. She could feel a tall shadow cast over her and glanced behind her bare shoulder, the top of her dress starting at her clavicle. Luke saw Michael's eyes with her mother's busy and turbulent stare. Emmeline pushed her apartment door open  and tossed her purse and shoes inside before letting out a delighted squeal and running to hug her Uncle. 

"This is the best part of my day and I got to try on vintage Halston!" She giggled in his ear as she stood on the tips of toes and embraced his neck. When she was as close as she currently was, Luke could sense all the changes of a few weeks in her. She had a cough for starters, but he had to lean in closer to hug her in return. Pieces of her body were missing and the glow of her skin was painted on like her emerald green smokey eye. "Oh my God, how's Penny? Does she own Paris already?" Emmeline asked very sincerely once she dropped down to her regular height. She looked over her uncle and could just tell he was jet lagged. Emme pushed her door open again, picking up her discarded items, and led him inside the large space she was calling home for now. 

"Not quite owning it." Luke chuckled and followed his niece into the darkness before she slid the dimmer switch upward and revealed her messy place. There was a stair master in front of her couch covered in blankets, but as far as Luke could tell Emme was just using the water bottle older for an ash tray and the rest as an impractical clothing rack. The sight distracted him and he lost his own answer as well as Emmeline. He found her putting her shoes and purse down on her black kitchen island and shaking out her heavy hair. "She's going to be fine though. She's pretty excited to be on her own. How about you? You must love being out here." 

"I do." Practically whistling as she tightened her arms to her sides, Emmeline responded. "I've been busy, so the place is kind of a messy." Waving her hands in front of her to showcase the space, she excused herself. "I also just choose to live this way." Making him laugh, Emmeline added with a shrug before taking the brown elastic from her wrist and tying up her heavy locks that she wasn't used to after wearing for about eighteen hours. She left it in a long swinging ponytail and looked over her Uncle Luke. He was walking deeper into her apartment, observing the surface. She squished her lips together to the side, concerned he was going to report every thing he spotted and every word she said back to her parents who she was avoiding. Ever since Michael left, she only spoke to him through vicious voice mails. Her mother and her had strained conversations, but mostly over text and email. 

"Eddie visit you already?" Luke leaned up against the other side of the island and nodded to his left shoulder, motioning at the few Polaroids magnetically attached to her fridge door. The centre one of her and Edwin Styles kissing. He had on a tailored black peacoat while she was in a top that looked more like a satin bra leaving Luke to wonder what the weather situation was outside of the Freedom tours. 

"Yes. He just left a few days ago, but he will be back." She gave the fridge her attention, looking at the picture of her and Iden under a bright purple star magnet. It was taken the day after she left and right before she pulled on his ear and made him groan in pain. Her smile beaming with amusement. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" Like the terrible gossip he was, Luke came right out and asked before knitting his eyebrows at the sight of the prescription bottle shining orange inside her purse and the different empty champagne bottles that were collecting around the top of her sleek black cabinets. He couldn't help, but think back to when he first began touring by himself, when people only ever said "yes" to him, he imagined Emmeline was beginning to encounter a lot of those scenarios. He could see her enjoying the attention and pleasure just the way he had. 

"I don't know." Surprising him and bringing his attention back to her, she answered and yawned. Emmeline stretched out her arms, hearing both shoulders crack before sliding up on top of the kitchen island to make herself more comfortable. "We spend a lot of time together and we are supportive..." Bored with herself, she began to explain. "He is definitely obsessed with me, he says he's in love, but I just don't know." She finished by shaking her ponytail back and forth against her back, not sure which way she was going to go. 

Luke didn't press for more, but Emmeline found more to say. She always did, "Sometimes I feel like I have to be with him because he's the only person who likes this life. And you know me, I don't like anything I have to do." 

"What do you mean 'this life'?" He had a hunch, but he knew better than to assume. It had been one of Penny's biggest pet peeves with him that he always assumed what she was feeling or thinking. 

Emme patted her matte Bordeaux colored lip and tried to find words to describe what she meant. It wasn't as if anyone asked her hard hitting questions out there. Sometimes she didn't think anyone would care how she felt if she didn't raise her voice and let them know. Luke moved deeper into the kitchen, noting how bare it was. He opened up the fridge as his stomach gurgled, but the contents inside couldn't even make a sandwich. He only saw a half finished Pom juice, a six pack of wild berry apple sauce with four containers left, and a bull bag of baby carrots. It caused him enough concern that he pulled open the cupboard beside it, fully snooping. It was sad to Luke that he felt relieved when he saw a box of minute rice and a dozen cans of tuna. 

"You know those times where people don't invite you to their birthday parties or," Emmeline stopped watching her Uncle look around her place and started to rummage through her purse. She never had a hard time being herself no matter who the company she was keeping was. "Think of the times where one of your kids asked you not to pick them up or come to a Christmas recital because of the attention you'd bring, that's what I mean." Emmeline pulled out a carton of cigarettes, putting one between her lips and offering the pack to her tired uncle. She could see him thinking about whether or not he should. "I won't tell Aunt Keg." Emmeline promised with a silly smile, keeping the smoke still. 

"You feel like a bit of liability." Luke remembered the feeling well. It came with living a public life. He took the cigarette and leaned in for the light from her plastic Bic lighter once she was finished with it. He knew Michael and Grace would not be impressed with him, but at least he had Emmeline talking. She was trying her best to freeze them out since they announced they were getting divorced. 

"Yeah." Emme agreed, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. Luke understood why she was a model. She made even something as tacky as smoking look good. Emmeline was truly stunning and he hoped the industry wouldn't stomp out her soul. It had always been the fireworks that set off inside of her that made her stand out. He didn't want to see her soulless. Her face seemed so much more hollow than it was under the Sydney sun.  "I just think it's too much for a lot of people and I get that. They think they want to be a part of it, so they invite you to hang out or they cozy up with you only to freak out later because it's beyond control and it's a hazard." She was talking from experience. Emmeline was meeting some loneliness in New York and she hadn't felt that way since she was much younger. There was a time when she struggled with her Dad always being on the road and she always felt alone when Iden would slip into a depressive episode. “Not everyone can do it all the time. People want breaks and my life is starting to not have time for those.”

Luke knew exactly what she was talking about. Those days didn't feel all that far away for him even though they were ages ago. He didn't envy her. It was a very lonesome place to be even though hands would reach out from every corner for a piece of the spotlight.

"You can find people who can handle it." Luke tried to assure her as he hoisted himself up on the counter, his long legs barely dangling over the hardwood floor. "You are lucky to have friends who know that life." Luke always thought that it was great all the kids from the band few up together. He lost a lot of buddies when he started to gain notoriety. Like Emmeline said, his new life was just too much. It hurt even if he understood the situation. "You could talk to Penny about it." He suggested. He wanted their friendship to stay strong. They had been close since Penelope was born.

"I know." 

"Or your Dad." Blowing his exhale right at her, Luke tried again. Instead of a response, she arched her back and then let her eyes shoot sharp daggers at him. "Come on, Emme, I had to try." 

"There's cups in the cupboard beside you if you need an ashtray." She frowned. 

Luke pulled the door closest to his head open and chose the first white teacup he could see with its dainty violets all over. He spotted diet pills on the second shelf and cleared his throat confront her about it. 

"So, Molly got arrested." Emmeline chimed in first, digging deeper into their gossip session. Her legs were folded at the ankles as she wiggles her toes around for her own entertainment. "I really thought it would be somebody else. I never pegged Molly." 

"Yeah." Out of reflex, he laughed in a sigh. "Who did you think it would be? March?" 

"No, he's too depressed for that right now. I'm surprised you stopped here actually. I thought you would want to go straight home and pull him out of bed, hose him down." She had heard through Miles that March had decided to boycott personal hygiene while working his way through his first heartbreak. This was very different than when Taco Bell discontinued his favourite salsa option. 

"I sent him a text, but Cagney says he hasn't been answering messages." Luke explained even though he knew it wasn't a very solid excuse. Truthfully, he hadn't the slightest clue what to say to March. He always thought Daphne was too good for his youngest son, but he knew that wasn't a very comforting thing to say. 

"You didn't call?" Emmeline was stunned. She was always dramatic so Luke didn't bat an eye when she pretended to drop her lit cigarette from her mouth. "Michael Clifford is   out of the running this year, you could have been a shoo-in for Father of The Year." In her typical fashion, Emmeline teased. "Uncle Ash is disqualified thanks to his criminal daughter. You could have had it, Uncle Luke! It was almost in the bag!" 

He knew she was right even if she was making him laugh. The sentiment on how easy it could have been to offer March support was not lost on him. Luke has accidentally used being in Paris as an excuse, but in his defense, setting his daughter up and readying himself to leave her behind had been very time consuming. 

"Have you eaten?" Bluntly, he asked, watching as Emmeline slid off of the counter like a very clumsy snake. She walked over to him and put out her long Camel in the tea cup he was using. She avoided eye contact with him and sucked in her stomach, a bad habit she had formed from watching her mother do it in front of the mirror for as long as she could remember. 

"I'm fine. An agent took me out earlier." 

"You have no food in your kitchen." 

"I'm not a very good cook." Very honestly, Emmeline excused herself. "I eat a lot of take out."

"Champagne isn't a very balanced diet." With the burning end of his cigarette, Luke pointed to the collection above before blowing smoke rings at it. 

"I think I just heard teenage Luke Hemmings die." Emme snorted as she rested a hand on her hip and jet it away from him. She had heard the stories she knew how impossibly hard her dad and his band mates used to party. Hell, she had lived through a lot of it. 

"I was more of a hard liquor kind of a kid." With a smirk that exposed the same amount of attitude as sticking out his tongue, Luke retorted. "I'm hungry. If I get food, will you come along?" He felt his odds were pretty good for getting her to eat. He wasn't convinced by her sharp cheek bones, missing roller coaster curves, and empty cupboards that she had been taking very good care of herself. "Do you have an early morning?"

"Not really." She was supposed to go to a spin class and meet with her agency appointed trainer, but Emme didn't care enough to respect that 8 AM commitment. "I could show you a cool place. It's in a basement in Rose Hill." 

"What kind of food?" He would always think with his stomach.

"Sushi. It's a martini bar, but they serve sushi." 

"What are you doing at a martini bar?" She was underage. He knew that never stopped him from going to clubs in the United States when he was a teen, but he was older now and cared about his niece more than any girl that danced wasted in the clubs he went too. She was his best friend's kid and his daughter's best friend. Emmeline felt like one of his own. 

When Michael first informed everyone that Emme would be moving to New York after she graduated, Luke wasn't the least bit worried. She was always very headstrong. Emmeline seemed to know who she was from day one. It was almost haunting now to see her smaller. She had been larger than life since he first held her, her lungs letting out cries that rock stars all over the world could envy. 

"I like their tuna bakudan." Fixing him a stare that said, 'Give me a break', Emme informed him. She didn't mind their lemon gin martinis either, but she only ever had them because no one carded her there. Her adult body had been getting her where she wasn't welcomed since she was fifteen.

"Sure." He put out his smoke and dropped the filter into the cup. "Do you want to change into something more comfortable?" 

"I am comfortable." Looking down at her skin tight velvet outfit, Emmeline deadpanned before heading to her bedroom to do just as he suggested. She figured it would be nice to be able to breathe properly if they were going out into the night. 

While he waited, Luke stood up on the ground and focused on her fridge. The few contents truly bothered him. He knew how much Michael worried about his daughter's self esteem and how brutal the modelling industry could be. Luke felt out of his element though. This was a territory he had never treaded before. He knew that Ashton once dated a girl with an eating disorder, but he doubted that history would help him out now. He never had to deal with that with his own kids. Miles had a very healthy appetite and loved his body. He walked the line of vanity and sometimes he was just tiptoeing. Miles could not have cared less about society's ideals of beauty. He thought supermodels and hot pockets were on the same level when it came to sexiness. Then Penelope, flat chested and tall like her Dad, never really made mention of her body. Luke only realized now how lucky he was for that. He wondered if she had ever confided in Cagney about her feelings of self worth. Maybe she knew more than he did. 

Luke studied the photo of Eddie and Emmeline, noticing this time the photo below of Emmeline with a feather boa wrapped around her neck and a gorgeous male model knocking his head against hers as he flashed his a 25,000 dollar grin at the camera. On the small whiteboard that was magnetized to the top of the fridge, a black lipstick stain was left with a phone number under it and the name "Morgan". He wondered if it was female or male, but his thoughts were interrupted when he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Emmeline's cell phone buzzing from inside her bag. It purred viciously, harder than her cat did under her bed, and poured onto the island. He almost snooped, but he heard Emmeline's door open and he stopped himself, fisting both hands into the pockets of his jean jacket. 

"Is it cool if I leave my suitcase here?" He asked before Emmeline emerged.

"Yeah. You can sleep in the spare room, you know? Don't worry about a hotel." His flight was early and they were practically family.  "I'm ready." Emmeline tugged on the bottom of her crop top sweater and went to fetch her bag. Luke was puzzled by her shirt. He didn't understand what the point of a sweater that didn't cover you was, but he didn't ask. She had fallen in love with it when she saw it in the lost and found at a nightclub in Brooklyn. He concentrated on attempting to read Emmeline's face as she read her text. It looked annoyed, but she was keeping her back to him at an angle.  

“Are you sure you're ready? Everything okay?” He could exercise paitience with Emmeline. She wasn't his child and something about that lack of responsibility brought out a warm easiness out of Luke.

“Oh yeah.” Emmeline groaned and stuffed her phone back into bag before pulling it over her shoulder. Luke couldn't see her face yet, but he knew underneath her big fake lashes that she had rolled her eyes around. “It's just, like, every model here does blow.” She informed him while lifting up both her arms and tying her long locks into a tight and much bouncier ponytail. She had longed to have it out of her face all day.

Her words stunned Luke, but not the blaise way in which she said them. It was as if she had just told him a new television show that she was binge watching or that her cat, Harriet, had scratched a curtain.

“Can't be every model,” He set up while stroking the stubble all over his chin. He had only shaved once while in Paris. “Do you?”

“No, I don't want to.” Settling his concerns, Emmeline confidently said as she strolled by the door. On her way, she picked up a pair of slip on black shoes.

It was comforting to hear that Emmeline 'did not want to' do drugs. In Luke's experience, it was impossible to get Emmeline Clifford to do anything she simply did not want to do.

“You don't have to.” From ear to ear, Luke grinned and clapped his hands together as he followed behind her to the door.

“Not planning to.” Emmeline held the door open for him, his hand holding it for her to go first.

“Emme, you know you can talk to me.” He liked to think he was a pretty cool uncle actually. It wasn't as if she had any actual biological uncles on either side, so she was stuck with Michael's band brothers. He pushed the arrow facing down and waited for the elevator, waiting for Emme to open up. She wasn't exactly known for being a vault.

“Thanks, Gossip Girl,” She poked him in his shoulder and teased. “but it's not like you did coke more than once. What do you know?”

Cold, but sharp, he felt a rock lodge in his throat and he wondered if it looked as big as it felt. He didn't want the ever observative Emmeline to see how unstable he suddenly felt. The elevator doors widened and Luke shuffled her in, following quickly behind and watching her click the ground level's square button. He wasn't sure if there would ever be a good venue or time to share with Emmeline old stories of the darker days he found when he followed a path that a world of 'yes', opportunists, and not real friends. Mostly Luke just worried about the stories making their way back to his own children. He didn't think either of his boys had a clue that he struggled with cleaning up his act when they were just crying potatoes. He and Penelope never discussed it, but Luke didn't know if that was because she didn't know, didn't remember, or didn't care. It was embarrassing. Emmeline had surprised him many times before with the information she had managed to get her manicured hands on.

“I know about pressure.” Luke settled on saying as they walked out of the apartment build, both thanking the doorman in near unison.

Breathing in the warm winds of summer, Emmeline grinned into the humidity and linked her arm with her Uncle Luke's as if she was about to lead him down a yellow brick road.

“Can we talk about something else? Like Connor's tour or Molly's, like, giant beef patty of a boyfriend. Have you Googled him?” She began to gab. There was so much going on and both she and Luke were very out of the loop.

*************************** Holding a yellow-green maple leaf in both hands that Emmeline had asked him to keep since she found it to be particularly interesting, Michael stared at it with tired and blank eyes - looking without paying much attention. He was happy for his friends, getting married on a September Saturday with low winds in Toronto, but he was also exhausted. This was his day off, first in a week, and he was tired from catching a red eye from Illinois to be there to watch two people wed. 

"Daddy?" Emmeline interrupted the stillness in his mind. She sat up straight after slouching down on her bottom over the bench they had taken to in the courtyard of the country club. Emmeline was growing bored and he took her out to blow off some steam, run around in an open field in her puffy white flower girl dress that reminded her of the snowballs she had seen kids playing with on television. Michael was enjoying the fresh air too. He could have brought her back inside a few minutes ago as she had run back to him and climbed up on the bench by herself. Once Michael rolled his head to face her, their eyes mirroring each others, Emmeline began again, "Am I pretty?"

It caught him off guard, but he reached down and very casually pat her hair that had been pulled back into two tight braids tied on the side of her head, "Of course you are." It was a strange question, but he chose not to pry. Emmeline was always spouting off questions about everything she saw, smelled, and felt. 

"Am I pretty like Mommy?" It sounded like a very different question even if the answer, to Michael, was exactly the same. He sighed into a slight chuckle this time. Emmeline was squishing her lips together like a very dramatic cartoon fish, waiting for him to respond. She was at that age where it didn't matter what he said, he was her Dad and he knew everything. 

"Yes, you are." Michael promised her again with a gentle dip of his chin. "People tell you that you look like mom all the time." It was very high praise for someone as Michael had felt like his wife was so striking that she belonged in the Smithsonian. Right now, they were in a great place, but even when they were working their way through a rough patch, Michael felt like Grace shone brighter than everyone else in a room. Emmeline certainly favored him facially, but she had all of her mother's gestures and expressions especially the deadpan 'I don't expect anything from you' face much to Mike's dismay.

"Yeah!" Emmeline jumped up in a huff. "But I have your eyebulbs too!" As if to prove her point, her pulled down on her cheeks and held her eyes open at him, standing between his knees and shaking her stretched out face around. 

Emmeline had been calling eyes "eyebulbs" for as long as Michael could remember and he knew he should correct her so that she didn't turn into a teenager who actually thought that was what that body part was called, but he found it very endearing. 

"You don't think mine are pretty?" Mustering up enough energy, Michael leaned in close so their noses were just an inch away from one another and blinked his eyes rapidly at her. As soon as she laughed, he brought her close to his chest with one hand behind her back, tickling at her. 

"Yes!" She practically squealed as she clenched her elbows into her ribs, a weak defence against her dad's digging fingers. 

"Everybody says I'm pretty and I don't know how?!" Once he gave her a break to catch her breath, Michael sat up straight and pushed his back against the cold metal bench to listen. Emmeline held her hands up at her ears, showing him just how uncertain she was. "Why do they say that?" She was a stunning baby with eyes like mines blue gems that changed colour with the angle of the sun or the low gaze of the moon. She had her father's extra pale complexion and naturally pinched red lips. People stopped Grace when she would push Emme's stroller through the mall just to rhapsodize over how beautiful the little girl was. Emmeline had been being poked and adored for her features from day one and she was only now understanding that she didn't know what all the dis was about.

"They say that because it's a compliment." Michael simply informed her. It dawned on him that if he mishandled the topic he could cause lasting damage, but it was the truth. "But you know what's more important to me?" Cupping his hands together between the knees of his black dress pants, Michael engaged her. She leaned in close and put a hand over her ear as if he was about to share a juicy secret with her. "It's more important to me that you're smart, and nice, and happy." Michael rattled off, taking her hand from her ear lightly and giving it a little kiss. 

"Oh! I am!" She took back her hand and twirled around in her puff of a dress, watching the fabric move under her. "I am smart and happy!" She omitted 'nice' because her Mom was always telling her the way she tried to play with her one year old brother wasn't very nice. It wasn't Emmeline's fault that he couldn't catch the Barbie dolls she tossed in his direction. 

"Good." Michael agreed while standing up. He stretched out while bending backwards lightly to try and crack his backside. "Okay, let's go back inside." He nodded his head to his right shoulder, trying to corral her to follow him back into the reception hall of the country club. Emmeline was moving in the opposite direction though, twirling closer and closer to the golf course they were staring out at. "Emmy!" He yelled, but she didn't stop or come back. Michael could see that she grinned at the sound of her name, knowing full well she was being a touch bratty. "Emmeline." He had a half mind to count to three, but that was reserved for when she was being an absolute nightmare of a child. Michael sighed and forgot all about her leaf on the bench. He moved straight for her, capturing her off guard as she was spinning. He hooked his hands under her pits and spun her around. Like a bullet meeting the air sharply, she laughed furiously. 

"It's also important to me that you listen." He grumbled into her pearl pierced ear before sneaking a kiss onto her chin. 

Michael carried her inside, her proud smile beaming, and then set her down on the ivory floor where she walked nicely in front of him instead of running like the speed of light. 

******************************************

While mainlining sushi rolls into his mouth, eager to conquer his hunger, Luke watched with bewildered and unimpressed eyes as Emmeline filled up on ginger tea and pickled cabbage. They had ordered six rolls between them and she had only put one piece of tuna bakudan on her small brown plate. Luke's concern grew, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. He knew Emmeline's world had drastically changed between her parents impending divorce and setting up roots in New York, he understood everyone had their own way of coping with change as he had experienced his own penchant for handling change poorly, but he had a hard time sitting there and not confronting the issue. If it was Penelope, he would have just come right out and asked her what the hell was going on. Emmeline wasn't under his jurisdiction though. It wasn't like when they were kids and raised by a village. He couldn't put her on a time out or make any choice for her. 

"Have you made any new friends out here?" Pausing on the rolls, Luke reached for his cup of jasmine tea and cleared his throat from the delicious taste of raw red tuna. 

"Not really." Thinking about it for all of six seconds, she responded while moving the thin pieces of pink cabbage around her plate with a single chopstick. "I mean, I knew a couple girls out here from runway stuff and they introduced me to some other people, but they were pretty boring." Everyone knew that Emmeline hated being bored above anything else. It scratched at her skin like claws of an invisible demon. "Eddie has friends out here, but they seem like real Arzayleas to me." Smirking, she looked up from her plate and watched for her uncle's reaction. The blue green tint in her eyes almost blinded him as the dim lights of the lounge caught them at the right angle. 

"A real what?" Almost choking on his sashimi Luke pat down on his clavicle and asked.

"Dad always called our friends he didn't trust that." She explained casually like she wasn't teasing him about a part of his former life. "Users, hanger-onners, opportunists, social media influ-"

"I get it." Shaking his head low, Luke stopped her. "I was very young." He tried to excuse himself to his gossipy niece. 

"Is that an excuse for making bad decisions?"

"You tell me," Knowing he could play her game too, Luke retorted, "Girl filling up on flecks of pickled cabbage and tea."  He raised his a single untamed brow at her in accusatory manner at her.  

"I have a fitting tomorrow afternoon." She explained, but Like didn't care.

"Try the California roll." He picked one up from the communal plate between them with his soy sauce kissed chopsticks and plopped it down by her other untouched roll. Luke knew he said "try", but it was not open to negotiation. “You've had a couple shoots since you've been out here.” He decided to move on once Emmeline reached over her plate for the soy sauce, pouring a little for dipping in the small tray beside her. “You haven't met anybody nice on set?” He knew models didn't have reputation for being friendly. His friends had dated enough for him to know that and he had slept his way through a couple long legs himself, but Luke figured there was an exception to every role. It was just like how everyone assumed all rock stars were total asshats, but Calum Hood remained level headed and kind for as long as Luke had known him.

“Not really. Makeup artists tend to be nice, but they're paid to be.” She knew that to be a fact as she had had her face fussed over by so many different artists before. She didn't know if any of them were being sincere when they showed interest in her feelings and comfort. She knew she was just a vase they were instructed to paint in order to sell in a shop window. It didn't bother Emmeline in the slightest. The truth, up until her parents announcing their split, had never made her uncomfortable.

“Are you enjoying yourself out here?” Not convinced, Luke checked.

“Oh yeah, of course!” Emmeline assured him loudly, practically shouting as she picked up her chopsticks to eat the first roll in front of her. “There's nowhere else I want to be right now.” She knew she was very lucky. There were a hundred girls who had never so much as been seen by an agent who would murder her to be in her position. Emmeline tried not to be ungrateful. “I love it out here. I don't need friends to be happy.” She was always the center of attention in her own world. She didn't need the approval of others to feel good. Emmeline thought she had a very healthy amount of confidence. “I have friends. They're just in Australia and LA mostly.” And Paris now that Penelope was chasing after a new dream of becoming a culinary whiz.

“Good.” He was truly glad to hear it. “You think you want to model forever?” He wasn't sure how long the shelf life was in the industry. He remembered his parents drilling it into him that he needed to have a backup plan if his music dreams didn't pan out or last as long he wished them to. Luke still didn't know what the Hell he would do if one day all his opportunities faded.

“Maybe.” She said after swallowing her roll and taking her finger down from her lips where it had asked for a minute. “I'm going to keep doing this for as long as I can get away with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know what else I would really do.” When she looked at University majors online, there was nothing that jumped out at her. “I've never tried to be anything besides pretty if I'm being honest.” She craved a cigarette, but decided to just muscle her way through the California roll instead, picking it up with her chopsticks and holding it by her face as she spoke. “One day, I won't be pretty enough because what people are into will have changed,” She thought she knew the reality of things despite being very fresh to the industry and I'll have to find something else.” She shrugged as it was so simple. “Maybe, I'll sell shoes.” She guessed before popping the roll into her mouth, her lipstick beginning to fade into a soft ombre from eating and sipping on tea. Emmeline hadn't realized how deeply her Uncle Luke was listening until she brought her eyes back up from checking into her purse on the floor, right under the table. Her phone had lit up, but she couldn't tell what the message read. She imagined it would be one of her parents, still trying to make her talk to them.

“Shoes?” He didn't know why he was so surprised, but Emmeline always had a way of making his brows raise.

“I like shoes.” She summed up. “I'm also a very good salesperson. I can make anyone do anything.” There was the confidence he knew to be strong in her. “Or I could work for Molly or something. If she keeps tying herself to trees, she'll need a lawyer.” Emmeline joked and laughed as she made Luke snort. “Or a nanny for all her rugby babies.” Emmeline didn't fancy children and figured she would make as bad a nanny as she would a mother, but it was still an option.

“I think you're selling yourself a bit short.” Luke never thought he would say that to her.

“You know my mum is talking about going back to school.” Iden had told her over Skype a few days before. “She's all about 'Chapter 2' and creating herself now.” Or so it had been explained to Emme by her baby brother. “She's always been obsessed with having an identity outside of being Michael Clifford's wife.” She said her dad's name like it didn't taste good in her mouth, like she had to speak around it or even spit after.

“I think that's awesome.” Luke nodded along, eager to ask Cagney about it. He liked to know the details on everyone's life. A natural born gossip just like Emmeline Clifford. “Your mom put a lot on hold for a long time.” People gave Grace guff for being brash and easily annoyed, but she was generous. She always took care of everyone around her. Luke remembered always being impressed by how easily she could just rise to the occasion whenever anyone is in need. She remembered every crew members birthday, she researched alternatives when Luke had to make the entire tour staff aware of Penelope's peanut allergy, and she would always put Michael first even after one of their knockdown/drag out fights. It was about time she chased her own goals. “I hope she finds something she really loves.” As someone who got to live his dream, Luke always felt bad for people who weren't as fortunate. He knew everybody had a dream, but only some people got to know what it was like to wake up every day and live it.

“Me too, I guess.” Emmeline shrugged with both lips and her shoulders. She might not have been a very big fan of her parents at the moment, but Emmeline did agree with Luke. It was time for her mum to focus on herself even if it hurt Emme selfishly.

Emmeline pushed her plate away from her stomach and reached for the large, almost exploding, black binder on top of the sushi counter. She had to sit up from the chair and use both hands to maneuver it onto the space she had cleared on the table.

“What's that?”

“Karaoke starts in about ten minutes.” It was their after hours special. Martinis dropped in price, the kitchen closed, and the music began.

“You brought me to a karaoke bar?” Luke couldn't remember the last time he sang karaoke. He was pretty sure he was too drunk to speak at the time.

“It's a martini bar that has karaoke.” Not looking up from the pages as she flipped through, Emmeline corrected him. Luke poked another roll in his mouth and shook his head at her.

“Are you going to sing?” He asked before swallowing the cucumber asparagus roll. It was his least favorite, but he couldn't not order it. It was Cagney's favorite.

“Hell yeah, I'm going to sing.” Emmeline growled and flipped her hair around behind her. “You're going to sing with me.”

“I'll just be your cheer section.” Luke tried instead, but Emmeline didn't care. She didn't know when this opportunity would rear it's head again.

“Okay, what's your favourite Whitney Houston song?” She held a large amount of the laminated sheets in one hand, trying to skip to the 'W' section.

“None.” Right away, he told her.

“I don't know that one.” Emmeline grinned sarcastically at him and put down the pages. She ran her long gel fingertip down the column, searching for a song that would be the right one for them.

“I didn't spend a lot of time getting to know her catalogue of music.”

“Well, I'm not about to cover Blink-182 or one of your old punky-pop bands, so we're going to have to compromise.” While Emmeline was occupied with big book of songs, Luke took the chance to check his phone from his pocket. He wanted an update from Penelope on how she was doing, but he wasn't sure what time it was in Paris at the moment. He checked to see if he missed any news on March or Miles from Cagney, but all he saw was a text from Michael, asking how his visit was going with Emmeline. Luke glanced up at her, leaning right over the book and poking her finger in the middle of the left page.

“I found the perfect song! Oh my god!” Emmeline jumped up and down in her chair like she would as a little girl when someone said she could have dessert. She clapped her hands like a seal in front of her face. Emmeline scurried out of her chair to go and sign them up, leaving Luke chuckling to himself as he typed out a response to his best friend.

'She's good, Mike. Lots of smiling.' It wasn't a lie. Luke just felt like he should wait until he was face to face with the guitarist before telling him about his concerns that she wasn't taking care of herself. He put his phone back into the pocket of his pants as a gust of wind blew over him. Luke looked up and saw that Emmeline had just run over. Music had begun playing and people were moving to tables closer to the stage as karaoke was starting. Eagerly, she took the wrist from his hand that was resting on the table top and yanked on it.

“Dance with me!” She begged, not asked. It was hard for Luke to say 'no' as much as he wanted to. Emmeline was like a force of nature that sucked people in, but he also knew how angry she had been when she realized her parents were splitting up. Luke thought if dancing would make her happy, it was the very least he could do. Her hips were already wiggling around and her head bopping from one side to the other when he reluctantly sat up and let her pull her closer to the small stage by the front windows.

The man up on the stage with the microphone let out quick lyrics effortlessly, performing with all his energy an extra enthusiastic version of Gloria Estefan's Conga. Luke figured out right away that he was the evening's MC. He watched as Emmeline began to do her version of salsa dancing right in front of him, in the middle of the small dance floor. She was lost inside of herself, listening to the music and allowing herself to be free. It was sort of inspiring as he reached out to spin her into his chest and then out again, just like he had done a few times when she was little and wanted a turn after he had spun Penelope or Molly around. Luke watched as Emmeline sang along to every word like she had grown up on Miami Sound Machine. He knew for a fact that she hadn't so Luke concluded that Emmeline had probably come to the martini spot with Eddie a few times (a man who would walk off a cliff naked with Emmeline Clifford told him to) or by herself since she told him how few friends she had out in New York. She was infectious as she danced around him, quickly, snapping her fingers above her head as her new red hair fell everywhere around her. Before Luke knew it, he was giving into the Latin disco song and throwing his own head around, singing along off key to the chorus. Strangely, it was exactly what he needed to lose his worries about Penelope being alone in a foreign city.

The song ended and Luke realized only on the last note that he was out of breath and actually sweating from dancing around wildly with his outgoing niece. She turned her back to him to applaud the singer, cheering for him as loud as she could. Luke wanted to join in, but he had to put his hands on his sides and try to slow his heart down. He was cool. He didn't want to die during karaoke.

“Alright, welcome to karaoke!” Absolutely unaffected to the fast song he had just been crooning to, the MC shouted into the microphone. “We've got the gorgeous Emmy Clifford starting us off tonight.” He read out while checking the paper of people who had signed up. “And....” He squinted and tried to make out her writing in the dark, it was small and in cursive that hugged each letter. “Luke Hemmings.” He made out and started to applaud them supportively.

Emme practically ran to the stage, taking the mic that the MC held out, while Luke made his way very slowly and pulled out the second microphone stand. He was used to playing in front of sold out arenas, but right now, he felt as nervous as he had when changing Penelope's diaper for the first time. He still swore that even at two days old she mocked him and he was scared these people would as well.

“I Wanna Dance With Somebody?” Backing up from the mic, he looked at Emme and stared at her with groaning eyes that asked, 'Seriously?'

“Penny and I used to jump on my bed and sing this song to each other in our hairbrushes.” She shouted  right into Luke's ear over the starting bars. “We thought it was 'Wanna Dance With a Monkey'.” Her nose hiked itself up between her eyes as she recalled the memory, pleased it made Luke laugh. As little girls, they loved the song after hearing Emmeline's mom sing it during a car ride. They became obsessed and sang it every time they had a sleep over.  Luke just read the words as Emmeline sang the first lines on her own. He was surprised at how her voice sparkled. It was as beautiful as everyone knew her to be. She was like a soft Janis Joplin. His brain instantly started to make a list of songs she could masterfully cover. “You're not singing.” She giggled at him away from the microphone before the chorus came in, Luke joining her powerfully, both of them singing like their lives depended on it. If this song meant something to her and his daughter, he was going to give it his all. He let his hand choreography shine dramatically, following Emmeline's lead.

“I need a man who will take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last!!!” He sang out all by himself as Emmeline laughed, more with him than at him. She danced around him like her Dad might when they were performing, grinding her shoulders into his as the audience clapped playfully along with them. She couldn't wait for the last part of the song where they could sing back and forth with one another.

Once the chorus returned, Emme locked her microphone in it's stand and pointed at Luke with both fingers before bouncing backwards. She let him take center stage when the dance breakdown came, watching him as he ground his hips toward the crowd. He had lost his stage fright instantly and then pulled Emmeline close so they could do a beginner jitterbug move with one another.

***************************************

“I want to go home.” She was five and she had had enough. Her life had an inkling of routine now. She had been to kindergarten in Australia all of the last year and while it had been challenging for Emmeline to spend weeks on end without her dad, she enjoyed school. She wasn't very good at following any of the rules or sitting still on the reading mats, but she liked being able to play with kids all the time and being able to boss the other little suckers around. Being back on tour for the summer was hard. It had been her life for years, but now that she knew a different life existed, it was not as enticing.

“We'll be back at the hotel soon.” Michael held his daughter's hand in his as they crossed the street from Eggspection, the restaurant where they went for breakfast just the two of them. It was her first day of since joining her Dad on the Canadian leg of their tour and she was over it. She didn't care that they were in Montreal, she didn't care that he put aside his morning to spend time with just her, and she didn't care that she was going to get to see Molly and Connor Irwin today. Emmeline was finished.

“No!” She ripped her hand out of his and pouted, right in the middle of the main road they were currently crossing. “Not the hotel!” She stomped her foot at him, demanding his attention and not realizing she was getting more from the cars waiting for the light to change behind her. “Home! I want to go home!” It was not yet a full tantrum, but Michael feared they were at the point of no return. Unfortunately, he had to deal with the fact that they were a street and not somewhere where he could properly diffuse the situation.

“Emmeline, come on.” He held out his hand, curling up his fingers to lead her over. His voice suggested he was not playing, but neither did the burning look in his eyes. “Emmeline.” He growled, glancing away from her for just a moment to see the light was still red. Michael checked the crosswalk and saw that he only had fifteen more seconds left before it would change. Angry, he let a hot exhale release itself through his nostrils and picked her up, signalling her to start wailing in his arms and send all of her limbs flying at once. She was kicking against his stomach and hips, screaming into his ears.

“I want grandma! I want grandma! I want grandma!” She kept yelling. Michael knew that she meant his mother since Grace had not spoken to her own in years. Once they were down a block, Michael couldn't take the noise anymore. He was also sure that he would have a bruise on one his hips if he let her continue to use him as a post.

“Emmeline Mabel, stop it!” He put her down on the ground hard, her bright pink sneakers meeting the sidewalk cement with a hard 'thud'.  They had laces instead of Velcro because she was a big girl now or so she liked to inform people. Michael held her sides firmly and kept her eyes glued to his, moving his own face when she tried to leave his contact. She was going to listen to him because anything else would be made impossible. “You're not behaving yourself. This is not how we get what we want.” He confirmed for her. “This is not okay. When we get back to the hotel, you're going to go on a ten minute time out.”

“NO!” She shouted in his face and let her bottom lip jet out to blubber.

“Fifteen.” Michael was not playing. He hated being the disciplinary. It didn't feel natural, but he had a stomach ache from breakfast, he was tired from touring, and he knew he had to crackdown on Emmeline or else he would have the world's most insufferable teenager in a decade.

“That's mean.” Emmeline's wailing had turned to tears, streaks running down to burn on her pink cheeks.

“That's what happens when we throw temper tantrums.” He knew that once she cooled down they could cuddle and discuss why she was feeling the way she was, but right now Michael had to lay down the law. He stood up straight and held out his hand, taking hers as they continued to walk back to the Four Seasons. He had been looking forward to having a little alone time with her. It was rare these days and Michael felt like they both were in need of it. Emmeline didn't like to share him and, if he was being honest, he didn't like to have to give his time to people that weren't her, Iden, or Grace. He loved his job, but he knew that it was hard on his family. It was easier to manage things before them, but Michael felt like it was worth it. His international career was what provided a safe and luxurious life for them.

The rest of the walk, Emmeline sniffled and dragged her feet. She kept her fingers curled up into a fist, refusing to let her Dad properly hold her hand.

Emmeline was taken up to the hotel room, not allowed to see Daphne on their way in or even join Iden in the kitchen where he was scribbling in a coloring book and eating strawberries. Michael took her right into his and Grace's suite for the night. He plopped her down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of it. She refused to look at him, but this time Michael didn't fight her on it.

“Fifteen minutes and then I'll come back and we will talk.” He pat her knees as he sat up and left the room, closing the door behind him. He could have closed a door twice as thick, he would have still heard Emmeline shout, 'You're the meanest Daddy ever!' behind him. It stung, but he would wait to tell her that. It would be an exhausting fifteen minutes for them both.

Only seven minutes had passed, but it felt like a year to Emmeline who couldn't tell time at all and was only what someone would classify as an okay counter. She was laying in the shape of a starfish on top of the made bed with her arms and legs spread out. The door pushed open slowly and she clenched her eyes shut. She decided that she would pretend to be asleep when her Dad came in.

Luke knew that Mike  had put Emme down for a timeout, but he still snuck into the room to fetch an acoustic guitar was in it's case on the floor by the bed. He reached down to get it, but the temptation was too great.

“Hey Emmylou?” He whispered up at her. She recognized the voice was not her Dad's and rolled her head to one shoulder, popping open her eyelids to figure out who it was that was calling her by one of her many nicknames. “I hear you had a little meltdown.”

“I want to go home.” She whimpered, emotional at the thought.

“You don't want to leave me?” Boucning on his knees as he flexed his toes that held his weight, Luke playfully pouted at her. “You just got here.”

“Yes, I do. I miss home.” It wasn't Montreal's fault. It just wasn't where her grandma was, her new bed, or her favourite toys. Her mom only let her pack a few Barbies, one paper doll book, and two stuffed animals. The kids were always spoiled with toys when they travelled. Grace knew they would come home with more stuff that just took up room in luggage.

“I get that.” He empathized before coming up and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her feet, one sneaker kicked off across the room while the other was on comfortably still. “I miss you and Penny and the twins all the time.” He informed her. Luke knew as well as anyone that Emmeline loved being missed. She thrived on it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied that hearing it made her smile slightly and wipe at her crusty lashes. “You know what helps?”

“Nothing.” She whined into her hands and then sighed.

“I like a lollie bag. I know you don't like candy, but I find if I have a lollie bag - “

“I do! I do!” Her hair was a frizzy mess behind her as she shot up straight.

“It reminds me of home.” He finished. Luke's mum still sent him care packages when he was away, but he never told Cagney because he didn't want her to stop sending the ones she curated for him. “You like Tim Tams, right?” He checked, over his shoulder and played sly.

“And raspberry.” It didn't matter the flavor. Emme was a fiend for sugar.

“Well, all I have is jellie snakes.” Luke sadly informed her with a sigh that came from the pit of his stomach and blew a slow breeze through the room. “I guess you don't want any.” He fished them out of the pouch of his well worn grey sweatshirt, showing her the colourful bag with the treats inside. He had been carrying it around because he liked leaving a trail around rooms for Miles and March to follow. It made him laugh to see them Hansel and Gretel their way around a hotel suite, eating the candies one by one and racing each other for the next.

“I can help eat them.” She scooched closer on her butt and held out her hands.

“Alright,” Luke held open the bag and watched her reach her hand deep inside, pulling out a blue raspberry flavoured gummy worm. “But I got to ask you a question first.”

Emmeline had her mouth open like a crocodile's, ready to chomp the treat with one bite, but she stopped herself and blinked rapidly up at Luke. There was always a trick for a treat it seemed.

“Are you going to apologize to your Dad?” He stumped her. She curled her fingers up around the candy and really had to think about it. He had put her on a time out, but jellie treats were delicious. “He isn't mean. He's missed you a lot and would be pretty bummed if you went home.” Luke popped one shoulder up and then the other, weighing out Emmeline's options for her. He knew how much Michael missed his kids because he had missed his own that much. Luke felt like he learned a lot about parenting from his band mates, but he often felt like Ashton set the bar too high. He didn't think he would ever be as patient or engaged as the drummer was. He and Mike, on the other hand, had a lot of the same frustrations and opinions about things. Their daughters were so close in age as well that they spent a lot of time together even when they weren't on the road, letting the girls play together at each others homes while kicking back themselves. He looked to Mike for advice a lot, fishing for it since he was too proud to come right out and ask.

“Yes.” Emmeline finally agreed and threw the snake in her mouth. “I know he loves me.” She mumbled while chewing. It was not easy to remember to not speak with food in her mouth. She always had so much she wanted to say. Emmeline reached in for more candies, taking a handful before Luke got up to leave and take the guitar.

“I was never here.” He told her even though it made no sense to Emmeline's small brain. He winked at her as she blew a candy filled kiss in his direction and then left the room.

******************************

“You had fun tonight.” Grinning while stretched out on her couch, all her dirty clothes since moved to a laundry hamper she rarely used, Emmeline told her Uncle while taking a drag from her last cigarette of the evening.

“I did.” Luke nodded. It could not be denied. It was the most fun he had had since exploring Paris with Penelope on her third day there, popping into different bakeries and eating everything and anything they wanted to try. His daughter had looked truly happy and that was all he wanted for her. Well, that and eternal safety. “I can't imagine someone not having a great time with you.” Genuinely, Luke shared with her. Edwin Styles was right. There really was no one else like Emmeline Clifford. “Are you going to come home at Christmas?” He wasn't sure when else he would see her. Her schedule wasn't on his anymore now that she was living on her own, eighteen and trying to make it in New York.

All at once, Emmeline's face shifted from pleased with herself to almost sad.

“I don't know where I'll be in December.” It hadn't happened since she moved to New York, but Emmeline knew that there were jobs coming up that required her to travel.

“Surely there aren't runway shows and photo shoots on Christmas Day.” He really didn't know all the different parts of her job.

“I just don't know if I'll come home. Maybe, I'll want my first Christmas here.” She supposed that she could go to London and spend it with Edwin and one of his parents and their respective families. He had more step and half siblings than she could keep track of.

“Emme, you can't avoid your parents forever.” Luke cut right to it. He knew she didn't like hearing it, but even if he hadn't her deep inhale let him know that she wasn't thrilled. Her whole stomach caved in for a full ten seconds before she furiously released smoke into the air.

“It's not going to feel like home when I go back. I know that. It's not my home if my Dad isn't in the house, if he's in some downtown condo.” Luke realized as she spat out the truth that made her bones aches that he wasn't going to be going back to the same Sydney. Penelope wouldn't be there. Connor, Molly, and Emmeline were also out facing the world by themselves. Michael was building a new life, or trying to, that Luke didn't do anything about and March was apparently just a shell of himself.

“It'll be different, but - “ Luke was trying to figure out how to support her, what he would want to say to his kids if he was in Mike's situation. He squirmed in her recliner and wished he had taken her up on her offer for a cigarette of his own.

“I feel really disconnected from them. They're in a different time zone changing everything I knew and I'm out here building something they're not a part of. “ She expressed herself bluntly, but very well and while Luke had spent a good part of their visit worrying about Emmeline, he could hear the strong girl with a deep sense of self still breathing inside of her. It settled his nerves slightly as he crossed his knees.

“It might help if you called them.” Luke suggested off the cuff. “It might make you feel more connected.”

He watched Emmeline contemplate his idea while she finished her cigarette. It was strange how quickly he grew accustom to her smoking. He didn't think that her parents would be nearly as impressed by how effortlessly she could blow perfect smoke rings.

“It just really hurts.” Her voice went hoarse for a moment as she admitted her feelings to her Uncle Luke. Emmeline had a lot of pride. She didn't like to admit that sometimes she struggled with things. She liked to be the rock in the group.

Luke nodded in agreement. He might not have been a child of divorce in any capacity, but he could sympathize with pain and reluctantly moving through change. He remembered being her age and feeling like he couldn't control anything. It was harder than raising children, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

“It's three in the morning.” He looked at the time on his phone as it lit up on top of her black coffee table from an email reminder. “We should both be sleeping.”

“Yes.” Emmeline yawned and supposed he was right. She knew she should really go to her spin class. It wasn't as if she was sitting comfortable, knowing that she ate more than she intended to. Putting out her cigarette in the same tea cup as earlier, she stood up and stretched her arms up high, her crop top exposing all of her stomach. “Goodnight, Uncle Luke.” Emmeline walked around the coffee table to him, reaching down and hugging him where he sat. “I had a lot of fun with you.” She said as he hugged her back. Emmeline crossed her arms in front of her and started to walk towards her bedroom, looking forward to cuddling with her cat and drifting off to sleep.

“I have an early flight tomorrow.” From the chair, he spoke to her back. “I might be gone before you wake up.” Luke knew he would be, but he intended to be very quiet as to not wake her.

“Okay.” Emme stopped and turned to look at him. “Can we keep in touch?”

Softly, Luke laughed out of reflex. It seemed like such a silly question to him, but he could tell that Emmeline wasn't trying to be cute or funny. She might not have said it with her words, but her face expressed that, sometimes, she was lonely. Right now, she didn't feel like she could reach out to her parents who she had always felt close to before.

“Of course, Emme. You can call me whenever. I'd really like that.” He nodded with emphasis, making sure she understood that he was being honest. If she talked to him regularly then Luke felt like he could keep an eye on her for Michael and for himself. He felt like if he paid very close attention, he could keep her from hurting her body. She might not have been one of his three children, but he still loved Emmeline dearly.

“Goodnight.” She said again and tip toed into her bedroom, closing the door tightly behind her.

******************

Michael wasn't used to being as alone as he was in his new place downtown. Iden had stayed over a collection of four times, but he wasn't exactly a loud kid. He kept to himself for the most part unless they were playing a video game together. Michael was contemplating adopting a kitten. He thought looking after something small and all his own might distract him from texts that his divorce lawyer and Grace's sent him or from trying to contact Emmeline over and over. She still hadn't changed her voice mail from, 'Hi, It's Emmy, leave a message unless you're Grace or Michael Clifford. You two are the worst.', and he had become strict about checking it twice a day to see if she had.

He scrolled through his phone mindlessly at his kitchen table, distracting himself from his new solo routine, and read through the news. It was mostly depressing with the exception of a new pizzeria opening up in a nearby neighborhood. His Google alerts notified him that 'Emmeline Clifford' had five new stories attached to it. He held his bite of jam toast in his mouth and hurried to open up a new tab. Since Emmeline wouldn't keep in touch with him in any capacity, he had taken to following her through paparazzi photos of her and her friend Edwin Styles hanging out as well as any news stories about the modelling industry. So far, he had learned little about her career and a lot about where she liked to shop with Edwin carrying her bags.

Mike smiled at the small photo of her and Luke entering a restaurant together, Luke holding open the door. He read every word of the article, absorbing information about his daughter's life like a sponge. The page kept using the word 'happy' and 'smiling' to describe Luke and Emmeline. The first two times it calmed Michael's growing nerves and made him feel thankful to Luke, but after the third time, he grumbled. He was jealous. His finger stabbed at the play button that put on and video of Luke and Emmeline singing karaoke, dancing like good friends, dancing like Michael used to with her while they cleaned up their huge kitchen after having people over. Grace had made the kids do that from the time they were small in order to make cleaning more fun and less like a chore. Michael darkened his phone screen and slid it across the table before viciously taking a bite of his toast. His chest was puffed out and he was seething. He felt replaced and hurt, but the worst part was he couldn't even tell Emmeline that. She wouldn't let him. He carried his piece of toast out of the kitchen, eating while heading to his balcony to watch the pouring rain. As he went, he past a picture of Emmeline that sat on top of the shelf above his hanging television. She was three and sleeping under his arm while he was passed out in a hotel bed. Grace had taken it and it had become his favourite quickly. Emme had never  been a great sleeper, but Michael could always lull her to rest with his voice and countless kisses on top of her soft head. It hurt to see the photo now and he wondered if she was ever going to let him back in.

[the-desolated-quill]

The Bells Of Saint John - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Yeah, that was an okay episode, wasn't it? I mean The Bells Of Saint John had the potential to be a truly great episode had Moffat put the effort in, but after some of the crap I’ve had to put up from him recently like Bullshit Of The Daleks and The Angels Take The Piss, at this point I’m prepared to settle for okay.

First of all it’s nice to have a threat that isn’t alien invaders trying to take over the world for a change. Snatching people’s souls using the Wi-Fi is an inherently creepy idea that Moffat uses to great effect. It’s not in your face like a Dalek or a Cyberman. The threat is actually far subtler as you realise just how vulnerable we really are. Wi-Fi has become such an integral part of our lives and 24 hour surveillance has become so commonplace that it’s easy to imagine some malevolent force using the Wi-Fi to take control. That’s what makes it so chilling.

While this is all revealed at the end to be the work of the Great intelligence (did you catch the Classic Who reference? The Web Of Fear? The world wide web? Nice!), the focus is exclusively on the humans behind the plot, and again it’s really refreshing to see human baddies for a change. Celia Imrie does a marvellous job as Miss Kizlet. She has such a great presence on screen and has so many memorable lines. My favourite in particular was when she was comparing what she was doing to working at an abattoir:

“No one loves cattle more than Burger King.”

Also bonus points to Moffat for finally writing a female character that isn’t a dominatrix that speaks only in sassy putdowns and sexual innuendo, a mother figure who’s entirely defined by her reproductive system, or a one dimensional cardboard cutout that has no life outside of the male protagonist. See! I knew you could do it!

Miss Kizlet is a woman who clearly enjoys the power she has over people and has benefitted a lot from working with the Great intelligence, hence why she’d be willing to throw her morals to the side. And the final twist at the end when she’s restored to her factory settings and reverts back to the mindset of a child was undoubtedly the creepiest part of the episode. The Great intelligence has effectively ruined her life for his own ends and he presents a very different kind of threat from previous Who baddies.

The plot itself is fairly decent overall and there are some great set pieces like the scene with the crashing plane and the Doctor riding his anti-grav bike up the Shard, but, as I said at the beginning, this episode had the potential to be so much more and there are some areas where The Bells Of Saint John kind of trips up. First of all, the idea of something living in the Wi-Fi is pretty much the same premise as The Idiot’s Lantern with the Wire stealing people’s faces through the televisions (although to Moffat’s credit, The Bells Of Saint John is far more enjoyable to watch than The Idiot’s Lantern was). In fact Moffat recycles a lot of ideas here. The data cloud stuff is similar to the data ghosts in the Silence In The Library two parter, and the Spoonheads seem to be a cross between the Nodes from the Library two parter and the Smilers from The Beast Below. In fact I really wish Moffat had cut out the Spoonheads altogether. As I said, the reason why the episode works is because of how subtle the threat is. Adding in random robots just tramples over the creepy atmosphere. Why couldn’t they have stolen people’s souls through the webcams or something instead? That would have been far scarier, playing into people’s paranoia about how someone can hack into your computer and spy on you through the webcam.

There’s one idea I don’t think Moffat does nearly enough with and that’s the idea of hacking people. Miss Kizlet uses her iPad to change her employees’ IQ, paranoia, conscience, can upload new skills and knowledge into them and can even control people directly. That has the potential to be really scary, but it’s sadly left by the wayside. Also there are bits of it that don’t really make sense. We see Miss Kizlet change her henchman’s conscience and paranoia levels when he starts asking too many questions and raises another’s IQ in order to find a way of killing the Doctor and Clara, but what I don’t understand is why she doesn’t just lower the conscience and paranoia levels completely and max out the IQ. Wouldn’t that be more effective?

Let’s quickly talk about the main characters. In the previous episode, the Doctor vowed to find Clara. Here we see him sitting on his arse in a monastery, painting pictures of her and only finds her when she just happens to ring him on his phone. That’s an interesting way of looking for someone. I must admit I’ve never tried that one before.

Yeah, if I had to pick a weak link, I’d say it was definitely the Doctor. I know I must be sounding like a broken record, but Matt Smith’s goofiness really does just grate on my nerves. I think what exacerbates it even more in this episode is Murray Gold’s soundtrack over the top of it trying to make the character seem more whimsical as opposed to really, bloody irritating. (Also, no Doctor. You haven’t invented the quadricycle. Quadricycles have been a thing since 1896 and were first developed by Henry Ford, so do be quiet, you silly little man). It’s not all bad I admit. His new outfit looks nice and I liked his confrontation with Miss Kizlet near the end. Matt Smith can often do serious really well. It’s when he tries to be funny when I suddenly feel the urge to reach through the screen and strangle him with his own bow tie.

And then there’s Clara. I remember at the time dreading this episode because of how much I hated the character in her previous two appearances. The very thought of her becoming a companion just made me want to tear my hair out in frustration. When I did finally watch the episode, I breathed a sigh of relief as Clara is... I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s likeable now, but she’s definitely more tolerable this time around. Jenna Coleman seems to have toned the smugness down a touch, although there were still some moments that annoyed me, like when she called the TARDIS a snogging booth or when she and the Doctor were fighting over the laptop. (Moffat, I know it’s difficult, but can you at least try to write her as though she’s an actual human being?). I also don’t buy that anyone could be this clueless about how to work a computer. I mean I’m technologically illiterate and even I know how the Wi-Fi works. Unless she’s Amish, i’m calling bullshit. 

That being said, I must confess it’s nice to have a companion that’s slightly more skeptical about the Doctor and isn’t immediately bowled over by him like the previous New Who companions were. It’s just a shame that the only reason Clara is joining the TARDIS is because of some bullshit mystery surrounding her. Remember the good old days when companions were fully realised, three dimensional characters that had their own lives and hobbies and motives and desires, and decided to travel with the Doctor through time and space just because it sounds like a fun thing to do? Sigh.

Overall, The Bells Of Saint John is a fairly decent episode that’s occasionally very creepy. It’s frustrating that Moffat didn’t explore the premise to its full potential, but I suppose you can’t expect miracles. Just be grateful this episode is even vaguely watchable. 

[thepatricktreestump]

Saudade: Ch18

That week, you didn’t want to talk to anyone. You just wanted to be alone. Jenna called you several times, sending you texts to see if you were okay or if you wanted to hang out or maybe talk about it, but you didn’t feel like responding. Tyler even stopped by the apartment and got you and Josh Chipotle one night, but you decided you weren’t hungry. Josh kept nagging you at first, oblivious to the fact that anything happened the night of the awards, except for the fact that they didn’t win, you almost fainted, and he got absolutely wasted at the afterparty. After several days of nagging, he decided to leave you alone, letting you mope around on the couch or in bed, and decided to give you some space. You never heard from Brendon after the balcony phone call. You could still hear that drunken voice, telling you that he wanted to do things right with Sarah, that although it wasn’t the end, it wasn’t going to continue anytime soon either.

You blamed it on yourself, really. For getting you into this entire mess. Hell, if you hadn’t even picked up that wine bottle that Friday night, none of this would’ve even happened. You would’ve been fine. Those months while Josh was on tour could’ve just been spent hanging out with Jenna, or picking up a new and exciting hobby, or something healthy and productive. Not going to a stranger’s house and fucking him senseless, picking up new addictions, then lying to your steadfast faithful boyfriend. It made you sick to your stomach. Much less, you took things out on both of them. Especially at the party, where you shoved the two of them aside, rejecting Josh and screaming at Brendon. You felt miserable.

“Babe,” Josh knocked on the door before opening it up, frowning at the sight of you laying in bed. “Come on, you can’t stay cooped up in here forever.”

“I want to,” you groaned, shutting your eyes.

“What’s been up with you?” he wondered, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “I know you said you didn’t feel too hot the day before we left for Los Angeles, but if you’re still feeling sick, maybe we should take you to a doctor or something.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted.

“You’ve been ignoring me all week,” he narrowed his eyes. “Did something happen at the party? Jenna and Tyler said you were fine.”

“No, it’s nothing,” you insisted.

“Is it about the internet thing?” he asked.

“The what?” you raised an eyebrow, confused.

“The internet thing,” he repeated. “You and Brendon, those pictures, the awards show scandal. It’s what they’re calling it.”

“Wait. What?” you stared at him, twice as puzzled.

“Here,” Josh pulled out his phone and showed you several articles online that had gone viral, the paparazzi photos displayed proudly, the titles they had come up with making you feel sick. “It’s just them coming up with stupid rumors like always, trying to keep the tabloids going. Kind of like the whole ship thing you know.”

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath. “So uh, what are they saying?”

“I haven’t read up much on it,” he confessed. “To be honest, I don’t want to. I don’t think we should get too caught up in that stuff. Plus, I don’t want to worry you any more than you already are.”

By the way Josh was downplaying it all and how he looked uninterested in the topic, you decided that there was no need to be scared. Josh never seemed to be the type to buy into phony celebrity drama. Plus, he had gotten way too drunk that night to clearly remember anything that went on. “Okay, so uh, what did you have in mind?” you tried to steer the topic of the conversation somewhere else.

“How about you come with me to the studio today?” he offered. “Ty and I are working on new music, Jenna should be there, if not you can keep Mark company.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Please,” he insisted. “What else are you going to do? Stay at home and sulk?”

“Fine, I’ll go,” you complied.

The car ride there, it was obvious Josh was trying to make an effort to get you to smile. He was talking nonstop, which you didn’t mind, because you weren’t really in the mood to contribute to the conversation, but it wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence with him. He also attempted to make several jokes, which were all lame, but you forced out a laugh anyways. It wasn’t that you hated him, or was getting revenge or whatever, but you just felt empty. Sort of like standing in the aftermath of everything that had happened, feeling the repercussions and consequences of your bad decisions, letting the guilt consume you and hollow you out once and for all.

When you got to the studio, Tyler and Jenna were sitting there, happy to greet you. While the boys started down the hall and began striking up a conversation, Jenna sat on the couch on her phone, seeming already preoccupied. You sat down, wishing you had just stayed home. Maybe she knew everything and that’s why she didn’t want to talk to you. Or she was still embarrassed to be seen with you after having to talk you down from that argument you had with Brendon. Perhaps she was just tired. Either way, it was obvious she wasn’t really in a mood to talk, so you stuck to your side of the couch, fiddling with your shoelaces, thinking over everything.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice startling you.

“Huh?” you wondered, glancing over at her.

“You haven’t spoken a single word since you got here,” she pointed out. “It’s okay if you didn’t want to talk, I just uh, I’m here you know. If you need company.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. It hadn’t occurred to you that maybe you were the one who was ignoring her. “I’m just tired I guess.”

“I feel you,” she laughed. “Are you okay though? Josh said you haven’t been out of your room in about a week, he thought you’re sick or something.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured. “I just need a little time alone.”

“Is this about the rumors?” she asked.

“No,” you sighed. “I honestly don’t care about that shit, Josh already tried explaining it to me, it’s ridiculous.”

“Is it…” she took a deep breath. “Is it about the party?”

“No,” you quickly replied. “It’s not.”

“You sure?” she insisted. “Come on, you and Brendon were yelling at each other, and I know even though he was drunk, you hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night. Something’s up.”

“Did you hear what we were saying?” you tried to keep your voice steady, the nerves knotting in your stomach, mind racing. Of course she knew.

“I could barely hear anything over Pete’s horrendous singing,” she chuckled out. “But you both looked super angry at each other, I don’t know what about.”

“What do you think it was about?” you whispered, glancing down the hall to see if the boys were going to come back anytime soon.

“About the kiss,” she shrugged. “And whatever else you talked about in the dressing room.”

“Yeah…” your voice trailed off, mind so distracted you couldn’t even come up with a proper fib of an explanation, instead freaking out about all the possibilities and instances in which Jenna might blow your cover.

“Something happened,” she stated. “I know that much.”

“It was stupid,” you shook your head. “I’m better off just forgetting about it.”

“Well, if you need someone to talk to,” she offered. “I’m here. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly.

“Sometimes it’s better to confide in someone,” she explained. “If there’s something that’s really bugging you, to the point of you isolating yourself, then I think you should maybe get some help. Or just vent. If you got another opinion on the situation or a little advice then it could make a difference. It’s usually what’s best.”

“Yeah,” you stared at the ground.

“I promise I won’t judge,” she insisted. “We’re best friends y/n, you could tell me anything and I’d still love you. I just want to help. Josh says he tries to talk to you but it’s like you’re not even there. Maybe if it involves him then I understand why you wouldn’t want to open up, but I think you should tell somebody. You know?”

“So uh, I can tell you anything?” you inquired, the words coming out awkwardly.

“Absolutely,” she gave a small smile. “I’m here for you.”

“Well what if it’s something really bad?” you bit down on your lip, daring to look at her. “Like something really terrible.”

“I’d understand,” she persisted. “Or at least try to.”

“I don’t think you could,” you mumbled.

“Why? Did you kill somebody?” she wondered, half joking but also half serious.

“No, it’s not like that,” you closed your eyes. “But it’s uh, it’s bad.”

“Just tell me,” she offered. “I promise I can help.”

“Promise?” you looked at her, broken and hopeful. “You’re not going to tell anyone else?”

“I promise,” she repeated. “Just between you and me.”

“Okay…” you took a deep breath. “I mean uh, I don’t really know how to exactly say this.”

“Take your time,” she reminded. “It’s okay.”

“Well,” you paused, trying to think of where to start. “Josh left for tour a couple months ago and I got super lonely and I don’t even know what happened. I got drunk and I went to a bar and I found Brendon and we had sex and then I woke up. I was super wasted and so he took care of me and one thing led to another. We started sleeping together every night and I lived at his house and we’d smoke weed and drink all the time and it was great, it was. We ended up falling in love and then Josh came home and I felt super guilty. We told each other to forget about it and I ended up being back with Josh. The sex was unfulfilling and Josh was too sweet and whenever I tried to explain to him what I wanted, he didn’t understand or he tried to convince me otherwise. Then we went to the awards show and everything got fucked up and Josh introduced me to Brendon and we had to pretend like nothing ever happened. Then we ended up fucking in the dressing room and we came out and saw you. After the awards I learned he had a girlfriend and then we went to the party and ended up screaming at each other. He called me that night and apologized and hasn’t talked to me since and now, now I’m just so lost and confused. And I love Josh, I really do, but it’s so hard. I love Brendon too and I guess I’m just a mess, Jenna. I have no idea what the fuck is going on and I just feel miserable.” You stopped your rambling and looked up at her, freezing as soon as you saw her expression, mouth agape, wide eyes, staring at you as if she had just seen a ghost.

“What the actual fuck,” she breathed.

“I told you it was bad,” you mumbled.

“Yeah but I didn’t know-” she closed her eyes and reopened them, looking at you. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you swallowed uncomfortably.

“I knew something was up, but damn y/n,” she took a deep breath. “That’s something else.” Jenna had never really been one to cuss, but now, seeing her flabbergasted and all shook up, staring at you like this, you knew you really screwed up this time.

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m in deep shit.”

“No kidding,” she stared you. “How’d you even get tangled up in this mess?”

“It’s that fucking bottle of wine,” you laughed bitterly, looking at her and hoping she’d lighten up, but she didn’t. “Look, if I could change things, I would. But I can’t. I know I fucked up, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you going to tell Josh?” she wondered.

“No,” you shook your head instantly. “He can’t find out.”

“Y/n, that’s wrong,” she narrowed her eyes. “He deserves to know.”

“You promised you’d keep this between us,” you argued. “It’s only going to hurt him.”

“Like you having sex behind his back isn’t hurting him,” she challenged.

“Jenna,” your eyes softened, offended. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You had a choice,” she insisted. “You had plenty of choices. I can understand maybe once, but for months on end, and then even afterwards?”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to defend yourself, but she shook her head.

“You need to figure this out,” she decided. “Look, I can try to help you, and I promise I won’t tell anyone, but please. For Josh. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“I know,” you reassured, but she looked at you, hesitant.

“You say you know, but you don’t,” she sighed. “Josh has been there for you through thick and thin and it’s your responsibility to do the same. Make a choice y/n.”

“Hey girls!” Tyler greeted with a wide grin when they stepped into the room, making both of you jump, scared at their sudden presence.

“Hi,” Jenna squeaked out, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, how’d it go?”

“We got a song done,” Josh announced proudly. “It’s amazing. You want to hear it?”

“Definitely,” Jenna grinned, all of a sudden plastering on a bubbly attitude and letting her past worries wash away, getting up from the couch and walking towards Tyler. “Come on, y/n.”

“Okay,” you forced out a small smile, trying to think too hard about what Jenna had said earlier, getting up from the couch and taking a deep breath. “I’m right behind you.”

[tragicies]

(   JENNA  COLEMAN ,  28 ,  SHE / HER   )      ——       did  you  hear  about  how    𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀  𝐎𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐃    moved  to  sinking  rock  ?      they  are  from    DOCTOR  WHO  ,  &  i  get  the  feeling  that  you  could  best  describe  them  with   𝒂  𝒎𝒂𝒑𝒍𝒆  𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒇  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒊𝒏  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅   &   𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓  𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 ,  𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍  𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔  𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕  𝒂𝒓𝒆  𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕  𝒂  𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆  𝒕𝒐𝒐  𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕 ,  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍  𝒕𝒐  𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒚  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆  𝒂  𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏  𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔  𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 .     they  aren’t  sure  how  they  found  themselves  in  sinking  rock ,   but  the  last  thing  they  remember  was  FACING  THE  RAVEN.   the  song  that  best  describes  them  is    WILDEST  DREAMS  by  TAYLOR  SWIFT ,  &  last  i  knew , they  were  working  as  a   FIFTH  GRADE  ENGLISH  TEACHER .    i  wonder  how  they’re  going  to  cope  with  the  oncoming  disasters  considering  they  tend  to  BOSS  AROUND   &   LIE  TO  OTHERS . 

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒  .

full name :     clara  oswin  oswald . alises :   the  impossible  girl ,  soufflé  girl . age :   twenty  eight . gender & pronouns :   cis female ,  she / her . sexual & romantic orientation :    bisexual / biromantic . species :   human . star  sign :   sagittarius . identifying  marks :    tba .

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 .

the  doctor  technically  met  clara  years  ago  when  he  was  in  his  first  generation .   or  a  version  of  her  at  least .    she  told  him  which  TARDIS  to  steal   &   then  he  barely  encountered  her  hundreds  of  other  times ,  too ,  but  not  long  enough  to  make  much  of  an  impression .   though  all  of  these  claras  were  never  the  real  clara .

the  doctor  first  met  the  real  clara  in  his  11th  regeneration  after  he  finally  made  a  lasting  impression  on  two  of  the  other  claras ,  called  echoes ,  in  time .    she  caught  his  attention  because  the  fact  he  had  met  her  twice   &   she  had  died  twice  should  be  impossible  but  there  she  was !

after  the  two  stopped  a  crisis  where  people  were  being  trapped  in  their  own  wifi ,  clara  was  invited  to  travel  with  the  doctor .

she  agreed   &   they  set  off .

when  the  great  intelligence  attempted  to  once   &   for  all  kill  the  doctor ,  the  impossible  mystery  of  clara  was  finally  revealed  as  she  stepped  into  the  doctor’s  timeline  which  created  thousands  upon  thousands  echoes  of  herself  throughout  the  doctors  history  to  undo  the  damage  done .

after  this,  though ,  the  doctor  did  regenerate  which  clara  was  unsure  of  what  to  think  about  at  first  but ,  despite  how  different  he  became ,  he  was  still  the  doctor   &   still  her  dearest  friend .

as  time  went  on  clara  became  more   &   more  reckless   &   even  somewhat  addictive  to  the  lifestyle  of  traveling  with  the  doctor .   she  refused  to  let  it  go  despite  the  difficulty  of  keeping  up  with  their  adventures   &   having  a  normal  life .

this  difficulty  came  back  to  haunt  her  eventually  when  it  caused  the  loss  of  her  boyfriend ,  danny  pink ,  proving  she  couldn’t  have  a  simple  life   &  a  life  with  the  doctor  so  seamlessly .

even  so ,  she  still  chose  to  continue  traveling  with  the  doctor .

her  travels  with  the  doctor  came  to  an  end  when  she  sacrificed  herself  to  a  raven  shade  belonging  to  an  immortal  ashildr ,  a.k.a.  Me ,  to  save  her  friend  rigsy  when  he’s  wrongly  accused  of  a  crime  in  ashildr’s  refugee  trap  street  for  extraterrestrial .

however ,  the  time  lords  later  extracted  clara  one  heartbeat  before  her  death ,  essentially  frozen  in  time ,  hoping  to  get  information  of  her .    afterwards  she  expected  to  be  returned  to  her  death  but  managed  to  flee  with  the  doctor .   the  doctor  admitted  to  them  being  too  dangerous  for  each  other   &   had  his  memory  wiped  of  her  existence .   

 clara ,  on  the  other  hand ,  now  with  her  own  TARDIS  went  off  with  ashildr  &   the  two  decided  clara  would  return  to  gallifrey  but  since  she  was  still  stuck  between  heart  beats  making  essentially  immortal  until  she  returned  she  decided  to  “take  the  long  way  around”   to  get  to  gallifrey   &   went  off  on  adventures  with  ashildr  first .

this  was   the   ...   shortest  i  could  make  this  i  swear .

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 .

i  am  still  extremely  flexible  on  her  family  background  here ,  all  i  do  have  is  she  was  given  a  book  of  101  places  to  travel  from  her  guardians  as  a  child   &   often  dreamed  of  going  around  the  world  though  has  never  gotten  the  chance .

she’s  always  aimed  to  be  as  clever  as  she  can   &   in  school  ran  for  class  president  once  just  to  make  a  point  when  someone  said  she’d  lose  if  she  did .

 often  worked  in  tutoring  programs  for  younger  grades  seeing  as  she  was  extremely  good  with  kids .

during  university  she  worked  as  a  nanny  as  a  way  for  money .

now  she’s  a  fifth  grade  teacher   &   loves  her  class  even  though  her  first  few  years  teaching  were  quite  rough .   it  took  sometime  for  her  to  get  respect  in  the  classroom  but  she’s  quite  unquestionable  now .

is  constantly  busy .   never  sits  down  much  but  probably  should .   she  feels  like  she  needs  to  be  up   &   about  at  all  times .

has  a  lot  of  side  hobbies  bc  she  picked  up  a  ton  of  extracurricular  stuff  as  a  kid   &   now  just  has  one  million  things  she  likes  to  go  do .

there  is  something  going  on  with  her   &   zari  tomaz   as  most  can  see  but  she  hasn’t  slowed  down  enough  to  realize  what  it  could  be  exactly .    clara  does  keep  all  the  travel  mugs  she  brings  her  on  a  special  shelf  in  her  house ,  though ,  which  has  got  to  mean  something .

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 .

it  started  as  seeing  a  blue  box  places  but  when  she’d  look  again  the  box  would  be  gone .    however ,  she  lately  got  a  new  memory  when  she  was  out   &   saw  what  she  thought  to  be  a  raven  on  a  tree .   it  disappeared  in  smoke  though  then  reappeared  flying  towards  her .   she  closed  her  eyes  before  it  hit ,  hearing  her  heartbeat ,  then  there  was  silence .   nothing  .   no  heartbeat .   there  was  the  echo  of  two  voices  though ,  one  with  an  english  accent  the  other  scottish ,  saying  her  name  before  she  opened  her  eyes  again .    her  heartbeat  came  back   &   after  that ,  confused  on  what  happened ,  she  ran  home .

[dxmedstudent]

You seem like an incredibly dedicated doctor who spends a lot of her time working. How do you manage to keep your mental health at its optimum? My grasp of healthcare is that it is both physically and emotionally laborious. I know that often, you have shared with us that has been difficult to maintain a work life balance. Do you feel that medicine itself is fulfilling for you?

Thank you! It’s an immense privilege to be able to share some of my thoughts and experiences with you. You’re right that it’s hard work. Physically, night shifts and long days do things to your body that you didn’t quite realise before you went to med school. It can mess up your eating patterns, sleep patterns, and set off any other conditions you have, for example. I find it much harder to maintain a normal daily rhythm than I used to; after months or years of telling your body ‘you’ll eat/sleep/rest when I have time’ rather than listening to it, you get less good at listening to what your body is telling you that you need. Plus maintaining a healthy diet becomes harder…Emotionally, it can be draining. Difficult cases. Stressed out patients or relatives. Stressed out colleagues. Too many things to do in too little time; the feeling that you’re always just trying to get by. The background feeling that the NHS is going downwards instead of changing for the better. I don’t spend more time working than my other colleagues (in fact, right now, this month, being on a gap-year of sorts, I spend *less* time doing so). But I have worked some particularly difficult rotas where it felt like I was always on-call. I’m not more dedicated than anyone else, I’m just lucky in the placements I’ve had. Hard work, but with supportive colleagues and friends who have made it possible to stay focused and sane. Not everyone is so lucky; some people had more problems to begin with, or happened to work in departments that are much more understaffed and poorly supported. Some people have to deal with unhelpful or abusive colleagues. Or with patients and relatives far worse than the ones I encountered.  Perhaps they don’t have the same support from friends and colleagues that I did, or they have a lot more problems to deal with. Some people really struggle, but that’s not because they are worse doctors, or worse people. It’s because they’ve got a lot more on their plates. And medicine really does load our plates unequally. Some people get stuck with unfair circumstances, others are much luckier. I count myself lucky. I was talking abot this with a close friend the other day; there is little difference between me and a doctor who hates medicine, or my colleagues who sadly took their lives. Those of us who got by without major burnout (or worse) arent’ stronger, or better; under the right circumstances we too could really struggle. There were a few times during the more challenging parts of my job when I could really see myself coming close, and I began to understand just how easy it is to be sucked into despair. Any of us, could, under the wrong set of circumstances, end up in their shoes. How to look after yourself:This is why we all need support. I rely heavily on my medical friends and our whatsapp groups. When I’m having a bad day, or when I need stress relief, or when I’ve had a learning point to reflect on, or an interesting case, or genuinely don’t know what to do, they are there. It’s not just them; reaching out to close family and friends is vital, because isolating yourself harms you in the longterm, even if it feels protective. Choose a living situation that works for you.Personally, I like living with flatmates, because it’s nice to come home and rant to someone (and I usually live with medics so they have an idea how it is) and when you get on, it really works well. I’m a bit of an introvert, so whilst I’ll gladly go to the pub with friends (or out for a meal, film, etc) I don’t really put myself out there every night socialising with strangers, particularly if I’m working out of London and I don’t know anyone locally apart from colleagues. If I lived alone I’d find it more difficult to motivate myself to go out. And I know a lot of my friends feel the same. But when you live with friends or flatmates, you encourage each other to do stuff, and also take care of each other. We’d take it in turns to clean and buy food etc so nobody would have to come home from a horrific batch of oncalls to find no food in the cubpoards and that it’s their turn to do all the cleaning. Ovbiously, you can substitute ‘partner’ for ‘friends and flatmates’, or even ‘family’ if you decide to live at home.. I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t live alone; some of my friends love their alone-space. But interestingly, these are usually also the friends who are super-organised, really motivated to meet up and organise things, and get out of the house, so it works well for them. But rather that it helps to build in support into your life, especially if you have a tendency to isolate yourself, or are starting somewhere new and far from friends and family. This goes hand in hand, but also support each other at work. Be a team, in the truest sense of the word. Be there for your nurse colleagues, and your team. Be kind to the other teams you work with. Look out for the juniors. Be supportive to your seniors.  And they’ll do the same for you. In FY1 we used to help each other out all the time; it made a chaotic year much more fun and manageable and helped us make firm friendships. during my paeds job it usually meant gently walking the surgical/ENT/ortho SHOs through bleeding and cannulating kids when they asked our team to do it (because secretly they didn’t know or felt terrified at the prospect). Whenever you can, act in the spirit of kindness rather than being obstructive; if you have the time and energy to help, consider doing it. There will be times when you have to stick up for yourself and will be cross, but try not to let that be your default response.  Having hobbies and interests outside of medicine is also important. It’s easier said and done. Ask me how many novels I’ve read in the past few years and I’ll laugh in your face. I count myself a prolific reader, but something has to give; when you’ve got one or two hours in a long day to eat and de-stress before bed, you ealise how finite your time and energy are. Even the things you decide to prioritise might not cooperate with you; medicine can sap you because it leaves you with little time and energy. Even when I had time to create, you can guess how creative I felt after a difficult week at work. Sometimes you look forward to days off ages in advance, but when they come around you are so knackered that all you can manage is cleaning your flat and going to the park. Part of keeping your health as good as you can is trying to maintain some semblance of rhythm in your life. Eat when you know you have ot eat, sleep when you know you have to sleep. Even (as I mention below) when you don’t feel like it). Make time to see your dentist and your GP if you need to; that’s all part of self-care but we are usually the worst at sorting our own problems. You’ll need to put extra effort into your social life. Plan meetups in advance, because I promise you that when your day off comes, you’ll feel too tired to plan something last-mintue then, unless your friends and family drag you out. Give yourself things to look forward to, but be kind to yourself if you decide you aren’t up to them.  This can be a whole other layer of challenging when your friends are either also working hideous rotas, or are married with kids/live on the other end of the country etc; sometimes I look back at when we were all 16 and could just meet up without any effort and wonder at the difference. Is medicine fulfilling?I love doing what I do. I don’t find it horrible working sets of nights or picking up that second long day in the week because when I’m at work, I’m not miserable with what I’m doing. Sure, sometimes it’ll be a stressful day (I arrive in A&E and 9 patients are waiting for me to see them, it doesn’t get better the entire shift) or I’ll be stuck with a colleague who stresses me out and makes me feel inadequate. But on the whole, most of the time, I leave work with a feeling that I’ve done OK, good even. And I don’t dread going back the next day. Even though I’ve got a lot to learn, and I still feel nervous with my ever-increasing responsibilities, I enjoy being ‘clinical me’. I’d say it’s  fulfilling. But medicine can take over your life, not just when it makes you miserable and you hate your placement or colleagues (and boy, can it make you miserable if that’s the case!), but also even when you like what you do. Because working all those shifts, and staying late, can really affect how much time you have to spend being you. The ‘ouside of hospital’ you. It’s just physically much harder to stay in contact with friends and family when you are working all hours of the night or day. When you have projects, and audits, and exams outside of work (which you will do, there’s a ton of stuff behind the scenes which you have to do in your own time in order to continue doctoring), they also take up your precious free time in ways that your 9-5 colleagues don’t have to deal with. I’ve been very lucky; I’ve generally enjoyed my placements, and worked well with my colleagues, and found medicine itself to be really fulfilling. It’s not all nice things; there’s the mundane and the stresfful, but overall I’ve enjoyed it more often than not. I know that’s not true for everyone, and I think how fulfilling it is can depend a lot on finding the right specialities for you. I’m still working on finding the right balance, but I’ve got a good idea. It’s not that medicine isn’t fulfilling for me, but rather that because it is, it can take over your life. It’s because what you do feels important. Because you enjoy it. Because you care. Because you want to be a better doctor. Medicine can take up a lot of time and energy, and it’s hard to carve out a space in your life that it doesn’t take over. It’s something we all have to work on. I love my job, but In the long run, neglecting my out-of-medicine-life wouldn’t be fulfilling. You can be happy in your job but still feel unfilfilled in your life outside of it; if you let friendsips fall by the wayside, or neglect relationships. If you don’t have kids but want them, or have kids and feel you are never there for them. If you miss important life events for work and feel you are never there for the people you love. If you give up the passions in your life that make you happy.  You can still love your job but miss out on the other things that make you happy. There’s no easy choice; you have to find a balance that works for you.It’s one of the reasons I am not planning to stay on in paediatrics, for example. I love the job despite the stresses, but the timetable decimated my personal life; the idea of combinign that with exams made me realise I’d be happy with my job but miserable that I got to do little else. In the long run, I don’t think it would make me happy. Because happiness is more than just enjoying what you do at work. It’s also having time and energy to do the other things that make you happy. So I’ll have to work to find a balance that suits me.

[newamsterdame]

KuroKen new apartment/house furniture arrangement/decorating.

a piece of the brunch friends au, in which kenma designs video games and kuroo is a psychiatrist. (there’s an offscreen, nameless character death mentioned.)

–

The thing of it is, Kuroo and Kenma had never explicitly spoken about moving in together. Kuroo had moved to Kyoto for medical school, but returned to Tokyo almost immediately after graduating. He had two boxes to his name—one filled with old sweatpants and t-shirts, the other crammed with textbooks and old notes. He’d gone over to Kenma’s apartment one night to enjoy a quiet dinner—Kenma had come to the big graduation party, but hadn’t enjoyed it—and quietly bemoaned his homelessness to Kenma over a glass of wine. Kenma had shrugged and offered him the spare futon, as simple as that.

And Kenma had been doing—is still doing—pretty well for himself. He designs characters and codes for one of Japan’s biggest video game developers, and even in his twenties could afford a nice, big apartment. He and Kuroo had always spent so much time together that cohabitating had been an easy adjustment. Kuroo cooks them both breakfast, and Kenma picks up takeout on his way home from work, so that when Kuroo arrives back from his terribly long shifts he could stuff his face and then pass out immediately.

So really, it’s never been living together that’s the problem. It’s more of the fact that Kuroo had arrived late to the apartment itself, and by the time he’d settled in for good and both he and Kenma had accepted that, the decorating was already done.

If you’d asked Kuroo to describe his future life when he was in his late teens, he’d have had a specific answer—a high-rise apartment in Tokyo with floor-to-ceiling glass window panels, sleek blackwood furniture and modern metal fixtures. Minimalist, elegant, and cool. Red accents, of course, to make the whole place just a touch more personal.

If Kenma had overheard that conversation, he would have rolled his eyes and disagreed. According to him, Kuroo wanted a house in the suburbs, with a grassy lawn and flowerbeds. Probably a vegetable garden out back, as a hobby for when he turned geriatric. Yellow lace curtains and a dog, and probably at least three cats. The dog, of course, would not only get along with the cats but be their fiercest protector.

Still, at that age Kuroo and Kenma were still dancing around each other, and Kuroo would never have admitted that Kenma could read past his pretenses so thoroughly. So the modern apartment stayed fixed in his mind. Kenma’s apartment didn’t allow dogs, though they did adopt an old ginger cat.

Kenma had been living in the apartment for three years when Kuroo moved in. He’d kept things simple, but Kenma has always had certain vices. Chief amongst them is his penchant for novelty goods. Kuroo hadn’t really thought to complain, hadn’t really even realized it at first, but most of their plates and bowls are printed with Pokemon. And they have a set of pillowcases that depict each Final Fantasy protagonist. Link and Zelda altar figures sit nestled amongst their movies (mostly Kuroo’s) and video games (all Kenma’s).

But really, it’s the blanket that annoys Kuroo the most. Kenma had tossed it towards him on his first night there, a pink monstrosity printed with every version of Kirby from Super Smash Bros. Kuroo had complained about it then, probably, but he’d also pulled the blanket up over his head and fallen asleep shortly thereafter.

And now, for years, he’s kept complaining about it. At least once a month, he threatens to throw out all of their printed décor and replace it with something more adult, more mature. Kenma points out at those moments, helpfully, that he’d specifically stayed away from adult-rated content for Kuroo’s own comfort. And Kuroo shoots back that that’s not what he meant, and Kenma shrugs and kisses him quiet. This cycle repeats about as often as anything else in their lives—laundry, groceries, visits to Kuroo’s mother.

They’re both busy, and when they do have days off they want to do things together that don’t involve shopping for bedding. So Kuroo keeps sleeping with the pink blanket.

He has a good life, and he’ll fully admit to that. Kuroo loves his work, and he loves Kenma. But Kuroo’s greatest strength can also be his greatest fault, and sometimes his empathy for his patients and for the world around him can become unbearable.

He’s sitting on the couch when Kenma walks in. He hears Kenma turning his key in the lock before realizing Kuroo hadn’t bothered to lock the door behind him. Kenma enters the apartment, shucks off his shoes, and comes to stand in front of the couch.

Kuroo hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on. The curtains are drawn, the last rays of golden-red sunlight are filtering in through them. But Kuroo can’t see that, because he currently has his head between his knees, his fingers digging painfully into his scalp.

“Kuro,” Kenma says softly. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Instead, he shrugs out of his jacket and sets down his satchel before sitting down next to Kuroo on the couch. He places one hand on the small of Kuroo’s back and holds it there, steady. For long moments, they remain like that.

“He’s dead,” Kuroo says, a minute and a half later. His voice is rough with barely-held tears.

Kenma intakes a breath sharply. Deaths in Kuroo’s field aren’t unexpected, but they aren’t assured, either. He isn’t like Doctor Iwaizumi, who always runs the risk of his patients bleeding out on the operating table, or Doctor Shimizu, whose job description includes counseling patients through the last months of their lives. Even with his worst cases, Kuroo always believes he can save each and every one—medication, counselling, or something else, he always thinks he can find a way to save them.

Kenma doesn’t ask which patient Kuroo is talking about. He gets up slowly and heads to the bedroom, reappearing a moment later with a blanket draped over his arm. Kuroo hasn’t moved, so Kenma drapes the blanket over his shoulders. When Kuroo is wrapped up, Kenma pulls him close, letting Kuroo lean against him and forcing him to pull his hands away from his face.

Kuroo’s gold eyes are glassy, and his face is mottled red. He blinks up at Kenma for a moment, and then he crumples, burying his face in Kenma’s neck as he cries. Kenma keeps his hands at Kuroo’s waist, holding him close.

Kenma doesn’t ask for details, and Kuroo rarely gives them. It’s enough, they both know, for someone else to acknowledge that where once there was a human life, today there is nothing left except remembrance and emotion.

The sun has fully set by the time Kuroo pushes himself away from Kenma and takes a shaky breath. He rubs at his eyes with the corners of the blanket, then does a double-take. Clutching the blanket in his hands, he begins to laugh hysterically.

“Kuro,” Kenma says, worried.

“I hate this,” Kuroo wheezes, still laughing.

Kenma frowns at him. “Hate what?”

“This stupid—fucking—Kirby blanket,” he says, clutching his sides. “I always meant to get rid of it, but now it’s here—now, of all times—so now it has to stay.”

Kenma tilts his head and frowns. “I like that blanket,” is all he says.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, wiping the corners of his eyes, “I know.”

[babesatthebarricade]

Feuilly? Jehan? I want to know all your headcanons for all the Amis honestly. Just don't want to take up your time

You’re not taking up my time! I love talking about the Amis, and was so flattered you’d want to know all my headcanons, that I wrote all my headcanons! 

Enjolras

Their first name: As hilarious as it would be if all the Amis’ first name was Jean, I usually imagine Enjolras’s first name as Alexandre. (Side note: it would also be funny if his name was Victor, as in victory/Victor Hugo decided to name the hottest character after himself).Their sexual orientation: Gay. I also often imagine him as being somewhere on the ace spectrum, but I’ve read great fics where he is…decidedly not ace, so I’m not super committed to that headcanon. (Part of the reason I don’t put smut in my own fics – other than I’m terrified of writing it – is I like to leave it up to the readers if he’s ace or not, since I myself waver on where I stand).Where they come from: South of France. That’s about it. I’ve never thought about it too much, since that’s all Hugo gave us. I guess I do imagine him as growing up in a large country house.What do they study or what’s their job? Poli sci and history. And usually I imagine him as being a lawyer, running a non-profit, or being an up-and-coming politician who is going to dismantle the system from the inside.Their family: Only child. And I’m sooo in the minority in the fandom, but I imagine he has two amazing, loving parents. They’re old money, so that causes some arguments. But even if his parents don’t agree with him 100% of the time, they always support him and are proud of his passion and determination. Idk, I just really like him having these tough, smart parents who encouraged him from a young age.Their hobby: Enjolras likes reading. It’s his favorite way to relax (and not just political stuff – he takes recommendations from friends because reading their favorite books is a way to see the world through their eyes). Other than that, between studying and/or work (depending on how old he is) and activism, he doesn’t have time for hobbies. But he does like supporting his friends in their various hobbies. He goes to their games and performances, and always cheers the loudest.The running joke about them among Les Amis: How unfairly beautiful he is. Seriously, has anyone ever seen him have a bad hair day? How does he never have bags under his eyes? There’s a bounty for whoever can get a picture of Enjolras where he doesn’t look good. It’s also part of the joke how completely oblivious Enjolras is about his unnatural beauty.A random fact about them: Contrary to popular opinion, he can cook. He just doesn’t want this knowledge to get out, because then he’d have to cook for everyone all the time.Bonus: Any fancast? Aaron Tveit was my first Enjolras, and remains my favorite, so I picture him a lot. (Not really a fancast if he was in the movie…) But the Enjolras I picture changes on the story I’m reading or writing? So at the end of the day, someone pretty and blond.

Combeferre

Their first name: HenriTheir sexual orientation: GayWhere they come from: South of France, in the suburbs.What do they study or what’s their job? Medical student/doctor. I could also see him as a professor.Their family: Only child to busy top-of-their-field professionals, who love him, but didn’t spend much time with him. His parents got divorced, and he’s closer to his mother.Their hobby: He cannot pick one. Canon had a pretty comprehensive list: studying insects, Egyptology, correcting the dictionary (nerd), going to the opera. I imagine he likes astronomy a lot. He just tries every new thing he has time for. Has a bad habit of picking up a hobby, becoming obsessed, then dropping it like 3 months later.The running joke about them among Les Amis: That he is magic and can fix anything. (It’s also true, but they like to joke about it). They also joke about his Disappointed face and voice, but they joke because they are afraid of it.A random fact about them: When he was a kid he wanted to be Indiana Jones.Bonus: Any fancast? Depends. I usually imagine him as South Asian. (There are bunch of boards on my blog, or likes, but I can’t find them atm, and I can’t remember the actors/models from those boards). He has tattoos and is geek chic (without knowing it of course).

Courfeyrac

Their first name: LucasTheir sexual orientation: BisexualWhere they come from: a small-ish town in the south of FranceWhat do they study or what’s their job? Either he’s a law student, then lawyer alongside Enjolras of he does like marketing and social media for a nonprofit.Their family: Three older sisters, one younger one. Loving parents.Their hobby: Party planning. I’m talking Leslie Knope level of intense, perfect parties. He also celebrates every single obscure holiday, like Leslie. (Basically his main hobby is making people happy). He also likes dancing, and volunteers at a local animal shelter so he can cuddle all the animals. Did theater while in school. The running joke about them among Les Amis: Where did that glitter even come from?A random fact about them: He can’t roll his tongue, and is therefore irrationally jealous of anyone who can.Bonus: Any fancast? I’m pretty stuck on Fra Fee. (Harry Lloyd is also a good choice. There’s this one gifset somewhere that sold me on him)

Grantaire

Their first name: Rafael or ReneTheir sexual orientation: BisexualWhere they come from: A small city in the south of France (I don’t know French cities well enough to decide which one…)What do they study or what’s their job? Something art-related. Sometimes I imagine him as a very popular, but very cynical political cartoonist. Could also see him as like a freelancer, doing restaurant reviews, and photography, and then teaching random art classes to pay the bills.Their family: One younger sister. Not especially close to his parents, especially his dad, but they can get through one or two family dinners a year without a complete catastrophe.Their hobby: Dancing, obscure martial arts (like single stick. Who the fuck does single stick? Grantaire does), experimenting in the kitchen (it’s either delicious or death. There is no in between), doodling, and exploring Paris.The running joke about them among Les Amis: No matter your need, Grantaire knows a guy. He knows pretty much everyone in Paris. (They played six-degrees of Grantaire, but quit because it was too easy).A random fact about them: Speaks at least 3 languages the Amis know of.Bonus: Any fancast? I’m stuck on George Blagden for Grantaire, even though he’s waaay too pretty. (This is the last one that I can’t separate the movie cast from the character). 

Bossuet

Their first name: MatthieuTheir sexual orientation: PansexualWhere they come from: In the book, wasn’t Bossuet the only one not to come from the South? For some reason, that’s how I remember it, so I imagine him as coming from somewhere in Northern France. (I don’t know France well enough to say where exactly…)What do they study or what’s their job? Was a law student, but dropped out. Now he mainly does administrative work in various offices. He always brightens up whatever office he’s working in.Their family: Divorced parents. He calls them once or twice a month, but isn’t particularly close to them.Their hobby: Watching terrible movies. And conspiracy documentaries. He also likes to do cool card tricks, but always messes up when he tries to show people. (It’s okay though.He knows he can do it and that’s enoug for him).The running joke about them among Les Amis: He has a freakishly good sense of direction. Like you could drop him off in the middle of a dark alley and he would still have a vague idea of where he was and how to get home.A random fact about them: His uncanny sense of direction doesn’t help him get places on time. He’s perpetually late, and always with an absurd excuse that is 100% true.Bonus: Any fancast? Not really. He just can’t have hair. 

Joly

Their first name: NicolasTheir sexual orientation: BisexualWhere they come from: A suburb somewhere in Southern FranceWhat do they study or what’s their job? Med student/doctorTheir family: Has an older brother and younger sister, both parents, and grandparents, one set of whom lived with his family and helped raise him.Their hobby: Conducting weird ass scientific “medical” experiments. And knitting. And watching scary movies, getting scared, and getting cuddled by his partners.The running joke about them among Les Amis: He has the ability to sense when there is a cat nearby. He will befriend the cat, then try to adopt it without fail, even though he already has 2 at home.A random fact about them: Surprisingly good rapper.Bonus: Any fancast? Not a fancast, but I love the way batcii draws him. So anyone who resembles batacii’s Joly in looks and attitude?

Feuilly

Their first name: LouisTheir sexual orientation: I usually imagine him as too busy to have a love life (poor Feuilly), so I haven’t given it much thought. Bahorel has dragged him out on some truly horrendous double dates, regardless of his orientation.Where they come from: A city. Probably Paris.What do they study or what’s their job? He studies whatever books he can get his hands on. He does a lot of handiwork, and has worked in a few kitchens and shops.Their family: The Amis! The Amis are his family! (I imagine he also was in a bunch of foster homes, and I kind of like him and Montparnasse being in the same one. And while they’re not like friends they both have each other’s backs no matter what and so are brothers in that way).Their hobby: Arts and crafts! And sleeping.The running joke about them among Les Amis: That he’s a superhero. So whenever he arrives late because of work, and is apologetic, the Amis will wink and be like, don’t worry. We know you were saving the city. It’s a dumb joke, but it always makes Feuilly smile because he knows his friends really do think he’s awesome.A random fact about them: Even though he doesn’t have a lot of money, he always saves up enough so he can travel to at least one new place a year.Bonus: Any fancast? Not anyone in particular, but I usually imagine him as ginger.

Bahorel

Their first name: TomasTheir sexual orientation: Straight. (There’s an ancient post on Tumblr about a guy who said he was straight, but then was like, how do I know I’m straight? So he slept with another guy and was like…well that was fun, but no, still straight. I kind of imagine Bahorel doing that).Where they come from: A small town in the south of FranceWhat do they study or what’s their job? An eternal law student. He eventually becomes like a personal trainer, or teaches self-defense classes.Their family: Two slightly older, doting parentsTheir hobby: Boxing, Muay Thai, but he’s down to learn any combat style. He loves extreme sports. And baking. (He got the Amis hooked on the Great British Bake Off one summer)The running joke about them among Les Amis: He’s absurdly competitive.A random fact about them: He is always the first of the Amis to cry during a movie. Always. Also, he’s been dating his laughing mistress for years, and shockingly, is in the most long term and stable relationship out of all the Amis.Bonus: Any fancast? Not really. I’ve seen a bunch I like (like Jason Momoa). Pretty much as long as it’s a person who could kick your ass and look dapper while doing it, that’s Bahorel.

Jehan

Their first name: This is cheating, but it’s Jean.Their sexual orientation: Pansexual. Possibly aromantic. (I think the idea of Jehan being fascinated by romantic relationships but not feeling romantic attraction themselves is an interesting thing to explore).Where they come from: Like Aphrodite, Jehan floated in from the sea, fully formed. (jk. South of France).What do they study or what’s their job? They study literature and/or poetry. And some kind of Asian studies. (canon Jehan was interested in Asian cultures). They work at either a used bookstore or a plant shop, and write on the side. Their family: Single dad. Was very close to their grandmother before she died.Their hobby: Poetry, obviously. Long walks in nature. Exploring cemeteries.The running joke about them among Les Amis: No one’s actually seen where they live. So whenever the Amis watch a movie or something together, someone will point at the screen and go “that’s Jehan’s house”, and they’ll always be pointing at some dilapidated mansion, or giant Gothic castle, or a spooky crypt, or somewhere ridiculous.A random fact about them: They actually live in a normal studio that is their sanctuary. Also they don’t like sweets, and prefer savory foods.Bonus: Any fancast? Not especially. I usually imagine them as petite, with somewhat elven features

[candy-corps]

The Questioning

Jess belongs to mygardenofmuses.

Grace: Hey Damien, thanks for helping me with Jess the other day when she was sick. Can I ask you some ... personal questions, if it’s ok? I barely know you!

Well, it wasn’t like he could jump up and run NOW when he was supposed to wait for Jess, could he. Damien tensed up and clung to the glass with juice Grace had been so nice to give him.  

“Sure … ?” he replied. She could ask. He couldn’t answer …

Grace took a seat by his side. “Well, before i ask anything, I want you to know that I’m just asking things, but you can refuse to answer anything that is way too much. No pressure.” she told him with a smile, before taking a good sip of her glass.

“First of all… I do know your father, Bruce. A really great bat. But, what about your mother? I’ve noticed she’s never around, not even to pick you from school, and Jess didn’t mention her either. Is she… still alive? Could you tell me a bit about her?”

Oh, no pressure alright, Damien thought as he was crossing his arms. “Sure she … is … alive” he mumbled. At least he was pretty sure about that. “She travels a lot.” That was one way to put it.

Damien looked at the windowsill and then slowly, back at Grace. “I used to travel with her but … I have to go to school. And all.”

“Of course, school is very important.” Grace agreed with a smile. Poor boy seemed so insecure… she wished to learn more though.

“I know your father works, or used to work as a hero, right? What’s your mother’s job?” she continued. Grace guessed the woman probably worked as stewardess, politician, or perhaps in the army. All those jobs required a lot of travelling!

“Ummm … She’s a collector?” Oh, he felt bad, so bad. But it was the closest thing to describe without telling. To hide the secret in some truth - it was a lesson Damien learned early in his time.

“She gathers art and … valuable things. And she used to act a lot as well. I think you’d like her.” Okay now he screwed up. He would like his mom and Grace to meet, yes, but it was not like it was probably ever going to happen.

“So she’s an actress and a art collector, right? What’s her name? Does she act in movies or in theater plays?” Grace inquired, rubbing her chin. Now this was interesting! She didn’t expect that the mother of her daughter’s current boyfriend would be working within her same orbit.

This sure caught her attention, and, in a way, made her feel proud, too. Finally, a family that was more or less normal. It was a nice change after two couples of parents who left a lot to desire… Between an abusive mom and a villain dad, and that couple who was completely absent of their son’s life most of the year, how wasn’t she going to worry about these things? Maybe this time she could relax.

“Michelle Minór” he replied. “She’s no longer active..” Yeah. He didn’t want Grae to dig around for old stuff that maybe should better be forgotten. He didn’t know himself that she’s been an actress either before Dae smuggled that dvd in his bag one time.

“But … maybe I can tell you when she’s in town.”

That would be nice. It could take some time until he found her but the prospect made him real happy.

“Michelle, Michelle… doesn’t ring a bell. Oh well. Sure she was good.” Grace smiled, trying to be supportive. She’d have to look up the name later, she always felt curiosity toward the work of other actresses.

“Well, when she’s in town, I’d love to meet her. Who knows, maybe we could become friends, hehehe!” she chirped, and winked him an eye.

“Now, next topic: what would you like to be when you grow up? A cop? A businessman? A hero, like your father? Or something else?”

She was really talkative, was she. But then again, yes, she and him really hadn’t been alone much before now, and he has been with Jess for a quite a while. It was nice to get attention, too.

“Mh. I don’t know yet.” he leaned over the table, his arms crossed still, but his posture more comfortable now. “But I don’t see police man working out.” Literally. He noticed enough of Daes life to see that dream go up in flames.

“Well, there’s other things you can do. Cops and heroes get in the frontline way too often… and sometimes they die. Like my first husband. He was a hero… He died in a fire, saving some kids.” Grace felt sad thinking about him. Puzzler had meant a lot in her life. Even if she was dating Kerberous now, she’d never forget about him.

She shook her head, not wanting to worry Damien. “Like I said, there’s plenty of things you can do. Mailman, firefighter, musician, wedding photographer, ambassador, artist… possibilities are infinite.” she looked back at him and winked him an eye. “Anything should do, as long as it makes you happy, and it’s something you can use to take care of Jess if you two ever marry, hehehehe!”

“She’ll be a doctor” Damien informed Grace, in a tone that made clear that he was sure she’d be able to handle herself. She was strong, or so he thought. More so than he himself.

“I’ll be … “ Thrown across dimensions, for as far as he knew. Damiens ears lowered as he thought about that. Not exactly normal. Not exactly what he wanted … He trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

“I know. She told me.” Grace was beaming in pride. While she knew Jess should be able to handle by herself, it seemed the poor boy had missed the teasing. But it was fine, especially when he wasn’t sure about his own future.

She reached tentatively to pat his shoulder. “It’s OK, Damien. You’re still young, you’ve got plenty of time to decide who is the person you want to be.”

She looked up and sighed softly. “If I ask about this, it’s because I’ve seen Jess falling for boys who really didn’t love her. She got hurt, a lot. But you seem to be a good kid at heart. And at the end of the day, that’s what I want for her. A boy who truly likes her, and wants her by his side, just the way she is. And you like her, right?” Her voice wasn’t teasing this time. It was warm and gentle.

Like her. “I - I don’t like Jess” Damien said nervously. He wouldn’t let himself get touched either and leaned away. “Um.” he didn’t know what to really say. She shouldn’t know. She shouldn’t tell his mom …

“True, you don’t like her. You love her. I can see it in your eyes.” Grace grinned from ear to ear. That reaction from Damien was just too cute to handle. He was saying more with his gestures than his words. And it was really sweet, in a way.

“Moving on to lighter topics… What are your hobbies, Damien? What do you do for fun?”

What? Well that made him blush. Damien couldn’t even fathom the other question at first - stuck in place like a deer in the headlights.

“I like … hitting people.” What was he supposed to say. What was he supposed to do. “And being a bad influence.”

Maybe when Grace thought he wa a bad boy she won’t think that Jess could possibly find a liking on him.

“Hitting people? For real?” Grace couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Well, if you like that, you might have the makings of a boxer in you. That would be interesting… the first alien boxer in history!”

Why wasn’t this working…

Damiens sweater moved as his wings moved underneath in an - failing - attempt to cover himself. “I think Jess is awake” he said then and pushed his chair away from the table. Running from dire situations seemed like a good strategy now.

Grace couldn’t help but laugh a little. She truly had got to learn a lot about him. He was shy, and kind - and clearly still trying to find his true self. And that was OK. She hoped he could find a good path in his life.

“You’re right. Go check how she’s doing. I’ll prepare the breakfast!” she called out, with a smile still in her lips.

What a cute kid.

“Good.” Good. And with that he was gone, walking - as fast as he possibly could to get to Jess’ room. She may be alseep for all he knew, but he would just stay with her for a moment - no matter how.

Luckily for him, Jess was starting to wake up. She had been sick the previous day, but between Damien and her mother, most of her cold was gone. She stretched and yawned, refusing to open her eyes just yet. The bed was still warm. Man, there would be days where she just wanted to rest. It wasn’t that weird to be still tired after being sick, right?

Snuggling in her bed, Jess reached to pick up her cellphone and check the news. Nothing new, it seemed. She put down her phone and closed her yes. Maybe she could sleep a little more…

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake” Damien said as he laid eyes on Jess. He guessed she’d been sleeping still - but this was just fine. He’d closed the door behind him - not to eager to have Jess’ mom listen in.

He stepped up to her with a sigh. He really felt like joining her for an hour or two - but for now, he just sat down next to her on the bed. She didn’t look as sick as she’s been these days, but Damien wasn’t sure if he could trust that impression or not. Not asking, he reached out his hand to feel her forehead. Checking for fever.

“Oh, hey.” Jess instantly beamed. Damien being the first person she saw after waking up made her really happy. She sat on the bed, and giggled when she felt his hand on her forehead.

“No more fever. I’m fact, I’m feeling so much better. Just a little tired now.” she explained. Jess knew he’d want to know more about her state. “And you… were you waiting for me to get up…?”

“Mhmm” Damien hummed soft to affirm it. Jess said that she had no fever, but he was not all convinced of that. He kept his hand on her a little longer before he drew back - happy with the temperature, but not with letting her go.

“Is good that you’re better.” It really was a relief. Now it was weekend and she could gain her strength back. And who knew, maybe she’d be back in school on monday.

Jess blushed and looked down. Feeling this loved was still something so incredible for her. That someone actually wanted to stay by her side… it made her heart flutter in joy.

“Yes, it is. Thank you so much, Damien.” she took his hands into hers, smiling. “How much did I sleep? Hope you didn’t get too bored during my nap time…”

“Bored? No. No, not bored.” Anything but that. Damien looked at Jess’ hand that grasped his and failed at words for a moment. How to say it?

Maybe some exposition. “I made some homework. And … your mom kept me company. And she asked me a thousand questions.” Slight, slight, exaggeration on his part, given, but it felt like that. “Um.”

He looked back up at Jess face. He didn’t want to give her bad news. “She figures I like you.”

Jess noticed the sadness in his face. With the wish of comforting him, she lifted one of her hands and pulled his face close, until she could press her forehead against his. “It will be OK. She’s not going to get between us. She just worries about my happiness because other boys broke my heart in the past.”

She caressed gently his cheek, smiling. “If she asks so many things, we should take it as a good sign, because it means she expects you to stay by my side for a long time. And that means she likes you, too. Don’t worry. It will be alright.” she whispered softly. Leaning forward, she pressed gently her lips to his in a tender kiss. When she pulled back, a rosy color decorated her cheeks.

Damien just looked at her for a long moment. How could she know that?

She couldn’t. But she couldn’t also know better. He’d never told her …

“Mom has a habit of moving when I get attached to anybody. I don’t know where she is but I’ve been here so long” he said. It actually has been eating on his nerves for some time - the feeling of being dragged away any day, any time, and being powerless against it. He was just a child …

She held his face gently, making him meet her gaze. “Hey. I won’t let anyone take you from me. No one. Not even your mom.” Her voice was firm, even if her touch was gentle.

“You and me… I feel we’re connected by something stronger than parents, races or any boundaries society might put on us. If your mother tries something, you can hide here with me. Or we can run away and hide in our secret hideouts, letting my mom be the only one who knows.” she nuzzled him lovingly. “You’re so important for me, Damien. No one will drive us apart. We’ll stick together, no matter what.” I love you, she wanted to say, but she was afraid of scaring him off. Love is a powerful word. Those were just words, though, and sometimes actions are just as good.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She wished to never let go…

She really believed that, didn’t she. They could just run off … When that was the exact thing Damien meant to avoid. He liked it here. He liked going to school, he liked knowing the subway plan. He liked to have Jess around, and Blue …

“Can we be secret? Just … Sometime longer?” he asked. He’d not be mad when she’d say no. He was just so worried.

“Sure. Whatever makes your happiest.” Jess held him close. If keeping their relationship a secret made him feel safer, she wouldn’t oppose to it. Chances were this was the safest way to protect him from his mother.

“I’ll make sure my mom doesn’t say a word either. She’s good at keeping secrets, too.” she said, resting her head against his.

“Jess” Damien started and trailed off. He was so so so so grateful. Finally, Damiens shoulders relaxed again and he could lean into Jess’ embrace.

As long as they got to be themselves around each other, he wouldn’t mind to act as whatever outside. They had an excuse for the hand holding and he wasn’t fond of public display of affections anyways, Damien thought.  Just … why did it feel like such a loss, still.

“ … you’re great” he found, finally finishing the sentence.

“Thank you… You’re great, too.” she whispered, happy to share such precious moments with him. Jess could feel his shoulders relaxing, his breath becoming even. After all this time together, she was starting to pick up in these small things as well.

Pulling back a little, she leaned in for another kiss. The moment their lips touched, the corners of her lips shot upwards in a small smile. Sure, they’d have to keep their relationship a secret a little longer. But now? Now they were alone and free to do as they pleased. So this was a good moment to enjoy themselves.