#i might be onto something here (<- ego fluctuating)

[rubixpsyche]

Theory that people liking awful awful characters (i'm people) is the inverse of the cuteness-aggression behaviour

We see someone so terrible the "getting the woodchipper" becomes "oh i wanna smush em and watch em commit more atrocities. my babygirl. oh i hope you have everything you want. i know you broke that it's ok. my lil meow meow who has done no wrong ev-"

[ghosthan]

what would you say are the differences between 616 Tony and MCU Tony? 🤔

Hi anon! Many people have talked about this and I'm certainly not the authority on the topic, but I’ll try my best to explain some of the major differences that I have noticed! Thank you for asking and I’m sorry it took me so long to answer you.

Important to note: neither version of Tony has had a totally consistent characterization. Depending on who you ask and which comics/movies they've consumed, they might give you a different answer here and not be wrong.

616 Tony is even harder to put into one box because his character has been around since Tales of Suspense in the 1950s. That’s a long time. Things have changed over time, under different writers, changing political atmospheres, and outside pop culture influence (including influence from the MCU, unfortunately, in recent years.) You get the picture. So I’ll be making some generalizations and try to be clear about which eras I’m speaking when I make these comparisons, but ultimately, if someone wanted to be contrarian, you could probably refute a lot of what I say here if you cherry pick canon. Which is fair enough! That’s sort of the fun of comics, there’s so much to choose from and something for everyone.

So here are some observations from me, under the ‘read more’.

1. Physical Appearance

This is sort of an easy one, but worth mentioning!

MCU Tony does not look like 616 Tony. RDJ is great, but he would not be most 616 fans’ casting choice on looks alone. MCU Tony is tan, a Malibu man, with brown hair and brown eyes, and RDJ has sort of round facial features (a funny sloped nose, big, round eyes, round forehead, not a particularly sharp or classically “superhero masculine” face.) As you may know, this lends well to certain fanworks and tropes, such as Tony having Bambi eyes.

Or Tiny Tony. He is not actually canonically small, but he's smaller in the MCU than in 616 and from what I can tell, a portion of fandom has latched onto that. He’s a grown man, but RDJ is pretty short, and of slighter build than 616 Tony. RDJ is 5′9, but they make him act in heels, and I believe his canon MCU height is 5′11. Another popular trope I’ve seen is shrinking Tony in fanfic/fanart for a dramatized height difference with Steve, making him weak or fragile; this is fine because everyone has their own taste, but for the official record, he’s a capable, strong guy! Especially in earlier stages of the MCU, in which he’s a bit younger. Tony isn’t just a brain; he carries out his plans with his own two hands! He builds his armor, he remodels his lab, he survives hand to hand combat when he doesn’t have the armor. Muscles!

616 Tony is 6′1 without armor and 6′6 in armor (making him taller than his 616 Steve counterpart in armor and very close to the same height out of armor!) 616 Tony is generally paler with black hair (sometimes the classic blue-black I love so much) and blue eyes, and it obviously depends on the artist, but he has a pretty typically ‘masculine’ face and build. Generally he is drawn with a squared jaw and a high bridged nose (such as in the Extremis storyline, or drawn by Marquez), but again, this varies from artist to artist! Here's some examples of 616 Tonys.

Wait, you might be saying, but I have seen comic panels where Tony has brown hair/brown eyes!

Yep. Due to a combination of forgetfulness, inconsistency, and the MCU bleeding into the general consciousness of the comics, sometimes Tony is randomly depicted in the image of RDJ, or if not in his image, at least visually inspired by the MCU-- hair color and style, eye color, dialogue, etc.

616 fans don’t typically love this; he’s very handsome when drawn this way, of course, (look at him!) But it isn’t really the same character.

Also, MCU Tony has (at least for some of his movies) a reactor built into his chest. While 616 Tony has, at times, been more or less physically connected/dependent to his tech, he doesn’t have the built in reactor (most generally speaking, there are times in comics when he temporarily has the tech built in, but this isn’t really the status quo.)

2. Relationship with parents/ family history

While it is definitely implied in the MCU that Howard was not a good father to Tony, (such as in Iron Man 2 when Tony says “You're talking about a man whose happiest day of his life was shipping me off to boarding school” and “He was cold, calculating, never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me”), Tony has a different sort of attitude toward Howard in MCU than in 616. It’s kind of weird, and hard to discuss. To me, it seems implied that MCU Howard was emotionally abusive to Tony based on what Tony does say about his childhood, and yet, the films kind of randomly give Howard weird moments of “Well, he tried his best and deep down he loved me the whole time!” forgiveness. MCU has a Howard kink and I'm very cringe-face emoji about it.

For example, Iron Man 2 shows that old film reel of Howard talking about how Tony is the greatest thing he ever created, and in Endgame, when Tony goes back in time, he meets Howard and has a very weird interaction with him in which Howard declares he would do anything for his son, (to his deeply damaged son who is a new father himself.) Yet, for all his talk, it's his actions that speak, and his actions left Tony damaged, traumatized, and emotionally inept at forming healthy relationships. So.

Sorry. I’m a little bitter. I'm just uncomfortable with how they sort of set up an abuse history but then treated it kind of lightly and Howard gets off the hook as "well, he tried his best" without really acknowledging the hurt he caused.

Avengers: Endgame 2019

I won't go super in depth into the abuse stuff because it's a little touchy and could take up a lot of this post. But.

I’m not against any reconciliation and I do appreciate the fact that a lot of times, victims of abuse feel a desire to forgive and reconnect with their abuser-- my issue with the MCU depiction of Tony and Howard is that Tony never really gets the vindication of his abuse being recognized for what it was before he forgives Howard. To me, that’s not forgiveness as kind of... gaslighting himself that it wasn't as bad as he remembered his own experience being, because of a sense of nostalgia and grief. It’s not the same, and I have issues with it.

However, a lot of my opinion is based on subtext and it is just my opinion; with depictions of abuse, different people are going to react differently, and other people may have found these scenes touching and gotten something positive out of them, and that's totally fine too!

It’s also a bit difficult to talk about Tony’s relationship with Howard in 616, for a few reasons: shifting timelines, lots of canon that I have not read all of, and the fact that it really is difficult to sum up such a complicated relationship.

Right off the bat, I’ll address the basics. I used the same scene in another ask, and I think it's frequently cited in any meta regarding Howard, but in Iron Man Vol. 1, we see more into Tony’s childhood and see Howard verbally abusing his family, drunk, at the dinner table.

Iron Man Vol. 1 #285

We get this scene with adult Tony’s retrospective commentary on how his own issues that he blamed himself for were actually a cycle starting with his father, the insecurity and abuse and alcohol, and that he realizes how much this has influenced him. Both MCU Tony and 616 Tony have some form of “stop the cycle of shame” arcs, but I don’t really see how this works narratively in the MCU because Tony makes excuses for Howard and continues to blame himself for a lot of his own personal struggles, whereas I think there’s just a bit more nuance in 616.

But uh. This isn’t totally true, and in recent years, things got real weird. I choose to ignore this chapter of canon, but in the Dan Slott run, Tony Stark: Iron Man, Tony’s whole backstory gets imploded. For one thing, the little of Tony’s childhood it shows in a flashback is uh. Uh. Well, it’s certainly out of character compared with previous 616 material, depicting Tony as an overly confident poor sport.

Basically, Tony is adopted. Tony has an evil brother. Tony’s biological parents make an appearance, as do his ‘classic’ parents, Howard and Maria. It’s just weird. It’s kind of out there. I’m honestly not a huge fan of this and ignore a lot of it, but it is certainly a difference between MCU and 616.

3. Personality

I’m going to be very general. Both Tony’s have an outer self which they present to the public and an inner self, but they’re a bit different. Both Tony’s have struggled with self loathing, but I think MCU Tony’s actual self worth is a bit higher, even just at some points in time. Even if his ego is part of his facade, I think he does believe some amount of the “I’m awesome”, even if just when it applies to his own work/inventions/saving people. Not to say that these moments of fluctuating self esteem make him egotistical, but this combined with his egotistical act and snarky, non-stop sassy dialogue, he’s quite different in general personality from 616 Tony, who is much more reserved.

Some more recent iterations of 616 Tony have been adapted to reflect the snark of the MCU, but he’s not so snarky and he tends to approach things more seriously. This is not a dis on MCU Tony; I think MCU Tony uses false ego and excessive sassy jokes as a means to deflect and control, which I think is very interesting and it’s nice to see this explored more in depth in fic where you get to see the thought process behind the bravado. MCU Tony is a partier, a good times guy, especially during Iron Man 2, in which he really does disregard consequences to have fun (driving his race car, partying drunk in his suit, letting pretty  girls play with the armor, shooting off repulsor blasts for fun in a crowded room); I’m not bashing MCU Tony-- I think he had psychologically understandable reasons for behaving this way, the man was dying-- but 616 Tony really doesn’t act this way generally, and I think it’s a personality difference more than a difference of one being “better.”

616 Tony handles his stress differently, and they just have different psychological patterns, I think. I’m coming up kind of blank trying to think of a good comparable 616 arc, (sorry, I’m brain dead) but a less-than-perfect  example might be Tony’s brain delete arc; he’s “dying”, like in Iron Man 2 he  knows his expiration date, (circumstances are quite  a bit different), but he throws himself more into work, into a cause, and as he really fall apart, we  see him spiral into self doubt, remorse, fear, and insecurity, sort of falling into  himself with lots of manly tears and calling himself pathetic.

(Some things happen in this arc that a lot of people find Gross. I also find these events gross. But. I don’t count the sex in “World’s Most Wanted” as partying to cope with personal mortality, because I think both character involved are in “end of the world” mode, and it’s more seeking intimacy for comfort than partying to numb the hurt. Does this distinction make sense? No? Perfect, moving on.) 616 Tony is generally much more humble.

Whereas MCU Tony, I think, tries to outrun those feelings via parties or making dozens of new suits, or seeking comfort by comforting others! Gifting things to people, building things for people, highly personalized individual living quarters, teaching Nebula games and trying to show her a fun time when they were in peril together.

They have some traits in common, for sure! But canon being inconsistent both in the MCU and in 616, my observations aren’t the rule, because I’m kind of cherry picking and going based on limited memory. But off the top of my head, they’re both extravagant gift givers! Recall Tony gifting Pepper the giant bunny in Iron Man 3, and compare this with Tony carrying a mile high pile of Christmas gifts after shopping with Rumiko in Iron Man Vol. #3.

I would say that while both Tony Starks are considered humanitarians, this is much more fleshed out and supported by canon in 616. Some examples of his philanthropy in the MCU: Tony makes charitable donations of art and money, Tony has an organization which provides disaster relief/cleanup which is referenced in Spider-Man Homecoming, Tony has an MIT grant for students and staff members. But to be honest, a lot of his MCU philanthropy is only mentioned in passing, or is largely handled by other people on his behalf and on his dollar.

In 616, we see Tony using charity almost as a means of therapy: it’s something he does very privately, not in the public eye (at least, not always), and it’s something deeply personal to him. One example that immediately comes to mind is Tony’s home for disadvantaged girls in Iron Man Vol. 3, and we see scenes of Tony basically driving the streets at night, picking up underage prostitutes, feeding them and listening to their stories before bringing them to a home he’s established where he knows all the residents, and provides educational opportunities and protection.

Another more recent example in canon that the Tony fandom loves is that Tony canonically holds babies at an orphanage. Sorry I don’t have panels for all of this, this section got long and I have been working on answering this ask in a very scattered way for a very long time.

Both Tony’s are romantics, I literally could write a whole other post about their canon love life similarities and differences, but I will briefly say that while MCU Tony does the long on and off, and eventual ultimate commitment, to Pepper Potts, 616 Tony is a serial monogamist; he is always falling in love, and he’s definitely not a playboy, but the hero-ing, self loathing, and lifestyle make it very hard for him to keep anyone in his life, and most of his partners fuck his life up and betray him. Needless to say, 616 Tony is not married, and certainly not to Pepper Potts.

Oh, and I guess this is so obvious I almost forgot to include it, but a huge similarity between both iterations of Tony is that they both constantly use their own life as a bargaining chip, and will pretty much die for anything. Or be the bad guy for a good reason (at least, in his own mind... see Civil War, or Hickmanvengers; 616 Tony, especially, does not shy away from making the hard decisions, and this leads to a lot of guilt and tension in his  relationships-- often with Steve because 616 Steve/Tony angst fans are well fed, I guess)

Remember that time Tony had Steve’s mind wiped because Tony felt that Steve’s inflexible morality might hinder the Illuminati’s ability to save the world? And it eats Tony up inside and erupts into a homicidal fight when Steve finally gets his memory back? Me too.

Tony Stark as a character is defined by sacrifice, both of his own life but also of his own happiness and reputation and conscience, I think, in a lot of ways, and we see this in many universes. I could go on about Tony’s propensity for sacrifice in the less obvious ways, because I think in terms of heroic sacrifice, Tony has done a lot that other heroes wouldn’t be able to do because of moral inflexibility and conflicting philosophical schools of thought; Tony really is the “whatever it takes” type, and often believes the ends justify the means if he deems a threat worse than the potential wrong that could be done in preventing the threat. We see this a little bit in the MCU in the creation of Ultron, and in Civil War with the Accords. But there’s a whole lot more going on there I don’t want to get into.

4. Alcohol

MCU Tony’s alcoholism is never really explicitly explored. He is shown drinking in Iron Man 1, and in Iron Man 2 he drinks a lot and makes a fool of himself publicly, but MCU Tony doesn’t get any specific narrative arc focused on his drinking, and if I recall correctly, I don’t think he ever refers to his drinking as alcoholism in the movies? Also, while his binge drinking and embarrassing behaviors ostensibly stop after the events of Iron Man 2, he is shown drinking on screen at least one other time after that which I can remember, and it wasn’t a “falling off the wagon” moment, and an alcoholic in recovery such as 616 Tony would not take a drink casually. This article sheds a little light on some decisions made about Tony and alcohol in the MCU.

Alcoholism is a huge part of 616 Tony’s personality, which I went a bit more into depth about in this post, so I won’t repeat myself too much.

5. Their relationships with the Iron Man armor

A few points here: MCU Tony is famous for the “I am Iron Man” line being repeated throughout the franchise after he blows his own secret in the end of the first movie. MCU Tony sees himself as one with Iron Man, and the suit is the tech that enables him to be this version of himself. He sees Tony Stark and Iron Man as inextricable: you cannot separate them, and his identity is public. He, as Tony Stark, is an Avenger.

You may remember MCU Tony’s induction into the Avengers; in Iron Man 2, Nick Fury is forming the Avengers and tasks the Black Widow with going undercover to assess Tony to be a part of a hypothetical initiative. “Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no” and the comments about Tony as a narcissist may be funny, but the fact is, the snark and erratic personality of MCU Tony at the time of the formation of the Avengers in the movies is not at all like the Tony of the comics, at the time of the Avengers being formed. 

In 616, things are quite a bit different! Tony invents the Iron man armor to save himself (like in the MCU) and uses it for hero-ing, but in secret. He works very hard to protect his identity as Iron Man, and for a long time, as far as the world is concerned, Iron man is a mystery man piloting armor built by Tony, hired as Tony’s personal body guard, (hence the 616 Steve/Tony fandom’s proclivity for identity porn as a trope!) When the Avengers form, Iron Man is the Avenger, close friends with the Avengers, (particularly Steve!) and Tony Stark is just the benefactor of the Avengers, providing them with a place to live and finances with which to operate.

In the very early days, Tony did not have the “reactor” like in the MCU, but his chest plate did keep him alive, leading to some very dramatic shots of Tony charging up using a wall socket, lamenting the plight of a secret hero.

616 Tony, generally, and especially in some of these earlier comics, was quite reserved, rather serious, and very angsty, (in private of course.) He may be wealthy, but speaking generally, he’s much less ostentatious than MCU Tony, less of a show off, less into flashy things and grand gestures. Of course, this isn’t always true in the comics, and some iterations of Tony are more like this than others, but MCU Tony is showier, sillier, and more of a fun-times guy. Any MCU fan would find those panels quite contrary to the Tony Stark you know:

Iron Man 1

Iron Man 2

I think I would say that while MCU Tony sees himself and the Iron Man identity and the  armor as all being inextricably connected, we see a bit more compartmentalization with 616 Tony, who pretends that the armor is a whole separate person for years when his identity was private, and we see instances in older and newer comics, in which Tony  is uncomfortable with some aspect of himself as Iron Man (for instance, during the second drinking arc, Tony temporarily swears off being Iron Man entirely, or for another example, when Tony is in a comma and Tony AI exists during Secret Empire, Tony “lives” in the Iron Man suit, and I think this could be interpreted as a meta parallel to Steve during this arc; Steve has had some core aspect of his character inverted, Captain America becoming Captain Hydra, so Tony experiences a similar inversion-- Tony Stark and Iron Man are forcibly merged, in a way that Tony seems deeply uncomfortable with, if his digital drinking relapse is any indication. But I digress; sorry for the tangent.)

Okay this post is inexcusable long, and very, very tangential, and I don’t feel like I’ve really covered everything I wanted to. But it has been sitting in my inbox for too long and if I don’t post it now I never will, so I hope this long, rambling thing has been a little bit helpful to you! Thank you so much for asking, I had a lot of fun rambling about this.

If you want to read a similar post, but well written and organized, with other insights, this post by Sineala answers a similar question!

[goodvibesatpeace]

Astrology: The Ascendant

Have you ever wondered why others tend to see you with a different perspective than you see yourself? Have you ever considered where, in your natal chart, you might find clues about the most urgent purpose your soul has in this incarnation?

While these two questions appear to have nothing in common, the answer to both can be found in the same point on your birth chart: the ascendant. The ascendant, or rising sign, is the sign that appears on the first house cusp of your natal chart; it's the sign that was rising over the horizon at the exact moment of your birth. Many astrologers refer to this point in the chart as the "mask" you present to the outside world, but don't let this mislead you. Your mask is very much a part of who you are; it's the part of you that you allow others to see. These are the personality traits and needs you've chosen to make others aware of from their very first impression of you. Since the rising sign is so visible, it's also a point in the chart where one can determine physical characteristics.

From the perspective of personality, the rising sign certainly reveals a great deal, but from a spiritual perspective, these revelations take on an even deeper meaning. If the Sun sign represents what you are learning to become in this lifetime, then the rising sign can be seen as the most direct route your Sun sign will use to learn these lessons. The rising sign indicates the immediate visibility of personality traits, but also the immediate visibility of the soul's purpose.

Let's take an example: suppose you have a girlfriend with her Sun in Cancer. You've read about Cancers and know they are nurturing, protective, moody and usually shy, yet also intensely creative and intuitive. Yet this friend of yours doesn't seem to fit this description at all. Instead of creating tantalizing dishes from her cozy kitchen while complaining about her PMS to you on the phone, and having a life centered on mothering her four children, husband, sister and the neighbors, she's busy traveling the world, has three advanced degrees (one in art history, one in philosophy and one in creative writing) and refuses to get married and have children because she believes it will restrict her freedom loving personality. This friend always has a smile on her face and looks at the bright side of things. That's not Cancer, is it? Well, maybe this friend could be better understood once you realize that she has Sagittarius rising. Sadge is all about truth seeking and higher learning. Sagittarius is fun loving and has an intense need for freedom. This Cancer Sun friend has an immediate soul purpose to nurture (Cancer) her own higher learning and spiritual advancement (Sagittarius). What you don't see on the surface is the fact that she may also be tremendously insecure (Cancer) about her ability to learn (Sagittarius) or her faith (Sagittarius). She is learning to nurture her faith. She is also learning to have faith in her ability to nurture.

When you look at the rising sign from both a personality and soul level, it can give you deep insights. By embracing the lesson your soul decided was the most urgent, and by being aware of what it is about your personality you allow others to see, you can project yourself in the most positive light and accelerate your soul growth all at the same time.

Rising to the Challenge

The remainder of this article is divided into sections that explain the personality traits others will see in you based on your ascendant, as well as the immediate soul lesson that particular rising sign calls on you to integrate with your Sun sign potential. Allow your intuition to guide you as you read these descriptions and I'm sure you will find something that resonates. Remember, your soul wants you to uncover these lessons and embrace them; you chose your individual mask for a reason.

Please also realize that, as with any single point in a birth chart, complete understanding of the details of your life purpose and mask can only be fully delineated when all the aspects your ascendant makes to the remainder of the chart are considered. In addition, the placement of the planet that rules your ascendant is quite significant because it tells you where you will most likely play out this important life lesson. Also, if you have any planets close to the ascendant, or in the first house, this adds further decoration to your mask and there will be more to uncover. If you find a heavy first house or an ascendant that makes many aspects to the rest of the chart, you may want to consult an astrologer to help you fully understand the colors you wear to the world, and the lesson they brighten your life with.

Aries Rising

Move out of the way folks, because Aries rising wants to be first! I'll be blunt about this and say that if you have Aries rising in your chart, someone's first impression of you may be that you are a little pushy or rude. Almost always, they will see you as impatient and in a rush. You may even appear to be arrogant or self-centered since you're so busy pushing forward; you sometimes don't even notice anyone around you.

This is the mask - the first impression. What you will also find with Aries rising is an indomitable spirit, steadfast courage and willingness to walk through fire to fight for what they believe in. Some people don't like Aries rising because they do seem overly concerned with developing their own ego, or self identity. And here's the irony: that's exactly what they are supposed to be doing in this incarnation. The immediate soul purpose of an Aries rising is to develop that strong sense of an independent self.

Taurus Rising

When the bull is rising in your chart, you may appear to others as slow moving, easygoing and someone with charming manners. Some might see you as a tad too materialistic or possessive. You may appear extremely stubborn; not only are you unwilling to give up, you don't know how to give up. At the same time, the presence of a Taurus rising is usually quite calming and peaceful, almost docile.

Taurus rising may appear simplistic to some. It seems as if all you really want is a good meal, some great sex, and a beautiful piece of land to call your own. Whatever your values are, with Taurus rising, there will be no trouble in expressing them to others.

The soul purpose of someone with Taurus rising will center on understanding the nature of the physical. This includes every physical experience from aesthetic to intimate. You are learning how to bring spirit into matter.

Gemini Rising

If you have Gemini rising in your chart, you may appear to others as very restless. You have this air about you of eternal youth, and even if you're 90 years old, I'll bet your mind is as sharp as ever! You're excitable and mentally agile - always moving onto something new or the next idea. You're sometimes perceived as fickle because so many things interest you and it's difficult to focus on one area of interest at a time.

Your immediate soul purpose is to learn how to communicate truthfully. You do this only after you've evaluated all sides of a situation. We all know there are several sides to a story. Your lesson is to integrate them all into one cohesive truth.

Cancer Rising

With Cancer rising, others see you as moody and someone with fluctuating emotions. You may seem quite shy, insecure, and super-sensitive. You give off the impression of reacting emotionally to everything, and also appear as someone who is extremely home and family loving. You are also intensely creative. Others see you as capable of nurturing others in a deep capacity and even if you're a man, there is this "mothering" quality to your persona.

Your immediate soul purpose is to learn about nurturing and loving others in a responsible way.

Leo Rising

Leo rising appears to the world as someone with a bright, sunny disposition - at times even dramatic. You seem to exude confidence and when you walk into a room others definitely notice!

Your soul purpose is to learn you don't need approval from the outside world. Underneath that noble air, you're really learning how to love yourself.

Virgo Rising

Virgo rising seems to be quite refined. Very often a probing, analytical speaker with a soft tone to your voice, others may see you as intelligent and witty. Others may accuse you of either being too neat, or too messy, but you will certainly have a distinct pattern to your character. Others will notice how important work is to you as well.

Your immediate soul purpose has to do with learning how to improve yourself without criticizing or undermining others.

Libra Rising

It may very well be true that others see you as quite attractive. After all, you probably have delicate, refined features and exude charm and confidence. I'll bet your nails are perfectly manicured (even if you're a man) and you're always socially graceful. You may appear to others as very concerned with being diplomatic and fair to everyone you know. You are most definitely charming!

Your soul purpose has to do with learning about balancing equality in your partnerships, and fine tuning your understanding of a relationship as a spiritual path, not as a means to define who you are as a person.

Scorpio Rising

One thing is certain, people see you as intense! Either they are intensely attracted to you, or instantly repelled by your magnetic, mysterious quality. You may appear to others as somewhat mystical, or very secretive and difficult to get to know. There is a tremendous power to someone with this rising sign and others recognize it immediately.

The soul purpose involves learning how to properly utilize this power. Will you use it for what it's intended to be, the life force as a path to God, or the Universe, or the Source? Or will you use it to control and manipulate others? It's been said that souls who choose to incarnate with Scorpio rising have chosen a path of difficult and accelerated soul growth. Every incarnation is important, but I believe if you have Scorpio rising, there is something critical about this incarnation that will affect your soul's development.

Sagittarius Rising (This is me)

You probably have a knack for putting someone in a good mood simply by being in their presence. You exude optimism and others see you as always exploring new territory, new goals, or new challenges. You show others a strong philosophical or spiritual belief system and may be very active, with a love of travel.

Your immediate soul purpose has everything to do with spiritual growth and faith. You will travel many new horizons in your lifetime in order to achieve this purpose.

Capricorn Rising

Others will probably see you as reserved and serious most of the time. One word others will use to describe you is "responsible". You might even be perceived by others as somewhat of a "wet blanket" because you're so busy planning and working towards achieving your goals that you give off the impression of someone who is a bit dry or all work and no play. You are quietly ambitious, climbing the ladder of success one rung at a time. You may have invented the word "willpower". Your immediate soul purpose includes learning about responsibility and structure. You are also here to teach others how to properly take care of business.

Aquarius Rising

Okay, so maybe others see you as a bit weird, or eccentric. You certainly are progressive in some way but your progressive outlook will be fenced into your own restrictive ideas of that particular outlook. Because of the rulers of Aquarius (Uranus and Saturn) being so inherently different (Saturn is structure and Uranus breaks up structure) you might seem to be a contradiction to others. One thing is certain; people are going to be attracted to your magnetism. Even with your electric quality, you may be more interested in ideas than people (or at least that's how you might be perceived).

Your soul purpose centers on breaking through to a more progressive consciousness. I believe it also has something to do with learning to discriminate when you should respect an existing structure vs. when to go ahead and break it up.

Pisces Rising

Others will see you as generous, sympathetic to those less fortunate, and very sensitive and sentimental. You are the essence of feeling and imagination. People may often see you as someone they can easily take advantage of because of your capacity for unconditional love and compassion.

Your soul purpose will be to learn to give to others without losing yourself in the process. You must also learn to deal with your intense emotions rather than escape from them.

Much love to all... go in peace my friends 💕💕

[septic-dr-schneep]

Do you have any more ego sickfics?

Well, I suppose it’s time to throw my three-chaptered sickfic out here!

JSE Fanfiction - Heal Thyself (Chapter 1)

Summary: Jack has been going nonstop lately and has made himself sick. Whenever that happens, all of his Egos share the side effects. Dr. Schneeplestein has been working as relentlessly as their creator, trying to nurse all of the others back to health. He's been completely neglecting himself, however, and a certain Glitch threatens to take advantage of that.

“Bro, you look ravaged,” Chase had announced this morning, as open and honest as ever, as soon as he laid eyes on his doctor. Schneeplestein had, of course, blown off the concern, but now he genuinely wished he hadn’t.

The truth was that he felt as “ravaged” as he looked. Thanks to a series of mistakes, excruciating stubbornness, and a nasty bout of the flu, Schneep had spent four days now without sleep and he was certainly starting to feel it.

Sleep is for the weak, he reminded himself of Jack’s motto as his hands shook and cold coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug. Sleep is for the weak…

Jack had been going nonstop lately, recording videos into the early morning and skipping a few meals a day. He knew it wasn’t healthy and had insisted he was going to stop soon, but the end he had planned wasn’t soon enough. Needless to say, he had made himself sick and whenever that happened, all of his Egos unfortunately shared the side effects, though they manifested themselves in different ways:

Jackieboy Man got the worst of the headaches, to the point where he had to strip off his heroic garb and spent hours on end hiding himself in blankets, despite the fact that the others already knew every detail of his features. Schneep had been there, loyal and ready to offer his services, briskly combing a few tangles out of the older Persona’s hair before folding the mask and red jumpsuit into a nearby drawer.

Marvin’s voice completely broke, leaving him with nothing but a squeak to voice his agony as aches wracked his body. His cat mask was pushed high onto his forehead as he struggled to breathe through his aching throat; his nose was too stuffed to manage. Though he was somewhat thankful that Marv didn’t have the voice to complain, Schneep gave him some warmed potato soup to help his throat and bundled him up in his cape.

Chase, their youngest, the one with boundless energy and good cheer, became a huddled ball of misery, the vim and vigor sapped out of him as he struggled for the simplest of tasks, like turning over in bed. He was the weakest, constantly fluctuating between chills and hot flashes. There wasn’t as much for Schneep to do there but readjust the blankets and clean up the drinks Chase had spilled by losing his grip on them.

Even Anti wasn’t entirely exempt. While Schneep avoided him at all costs on a good day, he could occasionally hear a high-pitched, staticky shriek of pained rage or feel the telltale vibrations of the Glitch’s aura passing by in the lab. There would be a following crash as Anti knocked something over in his hurry to raid supplies for himself and it inevitably made Schneep jump, but Anti would blink out of existence again before he had the chance to lunge for a weapon. Perhaps that was for the best. Schneep could only surmise how dangerous Anti might be when he was ill and volatile.

Ever so slowly, they were starting to get better. Chase was recuperating the fastest, which was why he had bothered to stop by and make the observation about Schneep’s current state. With all of his time spent rushing around and tending to his fellow Personas, Schneep hadn’t thought much about himself. About an hour ago, Jackieboy had stopped on his way back from the restroom and mumbled at Schneep to “get some rest, for all our sakes”, but the doctor had ignored it until he realized that his medical notes were performing an alarming exotic dance in front of his eyes and making him feel quite nauseous.

The rest of his coffee splashed onto his desk as he tipped the mug over, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Only just realizing how low the temperature in the lab was, he rubbed his arms against the cold seeping into them and then pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to rub away the tunnels of pressure. To make it all worse, to make it all infuriating, he was embarrassingly close to tears and he had no clear idea why.

He also didn’t have any clear idea where his room was, he realized with a vague sense of surprise as he stumbled down the nearest hallway. It seemed to stretch on for miles, even though he recalled that he’d crossed it dozens of times in the span of the day.

Since his wife had left him for that blasted tennis instructor, he rarely ever spent time in his bedroom. He would take a nap every so often in his office chair or on a thin, foldaway cot wedged in the corner of his office, but right now it felt like every single joint in his body was cramping at once. He needed something softer, he needed…

Leaba. Bett. Codladh. Schlaf.

Eventually he gave up on finding the right word, keeping a hand on the wall to steady himself. He had a feeling that if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to get back up without help, which would be absolutely humiliating. He was a doctor, after all, and doctors were supposed to at least look competent! As brilliant as he was, he needed to go one step further and act the part. He was in complete—

Pain. He hit a wall, his legs gave out underneath him, and even as he scrabbled for purchase, he knew he wouldn’t find any. Another second passed before he accepted his fate and landed in an ungainly heap on the floor. Trembling as he tried to rise, he did his best to stifle the instinctive sob with a whimpered curse in a mangled combination of German and Gaelic. His breath was coming much faster than it should be; if he had a panic attack now, he really would pass out.

“W̸ell, ļ̕ook w̴͢͠hat w̴͢͠e ḣ̙̩̺̯̩̰͉ave h̷̨͡ere…” an all-too-familiar voice hissed through clenched teeth. Schneep shuddered again, harder, as he jerked his head up. All he registered were torn black jeans, but that was all he needed. He shrank back as far as he could, trying to hide, trying to make himself as small as possible. Anti barely moved, watching the feeble escape attempt with a fanged sneer that stretched from ear to ear.

“N̸̴̛o weapons today,D̀oct̶ơr?” he scoffed, tension rising in his voice behind his smile. “N̾͂̍o J̶͘͟a̸̶͜c͡k to save you…Aǹd͡ none of the othersw̵ou͞l̢d̴ ̧f̸ińd ͟yo͠u  till m̨͢orning!”

Schneep tried to respond with defiance, venom, anything to force the Glitch to back off, but instead he just found himself gasping for breath when he opened his mouth and could do nothing but helplessly shake his head.

Giggling at the sight, Anti lunged, snatched the doctor’s arms and swung him upright, slamming him into the wall and knocking out whatever air he had left in his lungs. He couldn’t cry out as he was dragged along the wall, every doorknob backstabbing him, every doorframe thudding against his shoulder blades. He tried, he tried to thrash and struggle, but his arms wouldn’t obey and Anti was relentless, pulling him away from the wall just long enough to throw him against it again. Stars danced in front of his eyes, his arms slumped, he kicked weakly. He didn’t even know where his foot landed.

Can’t let him— “No…” he gasped hoarsely, the first word he could find. “No, no-no-no-no-no—”

Anti offered a full-bodied laugh at that one, hauling Schneep away from the wall again so his feet skidded out on the linoleum. “H̸͢ow does it feel, D̀oct̶ơr,” he snarled gleefully, “to be completely pǫ̵w̢͟͟erļe̷̢ss?!”

Before Schneep could answer, his feet were torn away from the ground, leaving one of his shoes behind along the way, and it took his panicked, addled mind several seconds to realize that he was hanging over Anti’s shoulder, kicking at air. His arms hung uselessly down the Glitch’s back; they wouldn’t move, they wouldn’t move—why wouldn’t they move?! The sharp bone in Anti’s shoulder gouged into his solar plexus, sending surges of pain through his chest as he strained to breathe.

A cold wash of air hit his back and he shivered violently, yelping as the other Ego heaved him away. He landed hard and hissed in pain, though he was on something softer than Anti’s shoulder. For a long minute there was silence, broken only by the occasional static burst and Schneep’s distressed gasps, and then the doctor lifted his head as much as he could, blinking back uninvited tears.

He was…on a bed, he realized in belated shock. It was his own. Anti stood at the foot of it, head cocked slightly, staring at him with pitch-black eyes.

“I could ķìll͟ ̀yo͠u here, but y̵̡͡ou’re just like him,” he growled, the static growing louder, accusing. “I̴͢͞t wouldn’t be as f͠un̸͟͡ to s̏͛laughter you if you couldn’t f̜̓̽ͤͯight back!” With those words, he leaned, planting his hands on the end of the bed. His next words were softer, colder. “S̴o rest up, Ḑ̴octor. Without you, your f͟͢͡a̴̷͝vo͡͝r̴̴i̢t͠e̷̛ ̶b̡͞͝ơy might not be so l̶ucky next time.”

Schneep blinked again, the tears spilling over. Again he opened his mouth to speak and couldn’t find any words; before he knew it, his head became too heavy, his heartrate slowed, and Anti became nothing but a blur of green and black. He was out cold before the Glitch had left.

[jenniferhettenbach]

Inside the Whale

This is something I wrote for a class I'm taking.

Inside the Whale

By Jennifer Hettenbach

If there was a response to my outburst, I didn't hear it. The only thing I could hear or focus on was the rapid building pressure, the emotion that roared inside my head, the numbness inside my fingers and toes, inside my chest, as if I could feel my body clamp down and try to keep me from exploding all over the small room. It wasn't working. Something was breaking in me, the pressure too much to hold back any longer. The fight to keep tears corralled behind closed lids to spilled over and roll down my cheeks. Pushed too far, and now I had gone crazy.

Society doesn't think much of people like me, low-wage workers, mothers, fathers, those of us who might have made a wrong turn or misjudged a step a time or two, us unskilled workers. Those of us who didn’t start with a leg up or even a lot of choices to begin with. Those of us who stock shelves, run registers, bring the food to your table, make overpriced coffee taste nothing like coffee or fulfill your online orders. We are all too often treated not like human beings, but cogs in a machine where our wants and needs don't matter. Where we don’t matter. Treated as if we deserve to struggle, to do without, abused and used because we didn’t make better choices, we weren’t born into different families didn’t try harder.

Society doesn’t take into consideration the brutality of low wage work. The constant stress, worry, of an unstable, unreliable, unrelenting job day in and day out with no promise of reward or finish line (Guendelsberger 10). A corporation that changes the rules as often as they change their CEO’s, to the benefit of its appearance rather than the toll of its employees. Or the manager who doesn’t pitch in when the work is in the weeds. Coworkers who look for a simple way out or customers who use you as a punching bag. Low wage work is “dehumanizing” (Guendelsberger 10) degrading and relentless.

I’d worked for Wally-World for almost four years when management approached me about a job. A supervisory position for the unloaders, someone to run the crew of maybe ten to fifteen people who unloaded the eighteen-wheeler trailer trucks and sorting merch for both the grocery side of the superstore and the G. M (general merchandise).

“You should apply for the position, Jennifer,” Larry, a support manager I had taken a liking to since he first appeared less than a year ago. We had a lot in common, as we both seemed to share that, “I’m not taking any more shit from you” vibe about us. When he worked, he often stopped by wherever department I was in to shoot the shit, but that night he had something different on his mind.

“I don’t know, I have a low tolerance for people, and even less for their bullshit,” I had told him between opening and breaking down cardboard boxes.

“Why do you think they always put you one the heaviest freight, Jennifer? Because you go in there and get the job done without having to have someone looking over your shoulder all the time. That is the kind of person this job needs. I think you will get the hang of the people in no time.”

And right there was my first mistake. I let myself be flattered by compliments, sucked into that game of sweet talk, none of which helps me pay my bills. One of my many flaws has always been looking for the approval of others, and when that approval comes with a side of encouragement, I let myself believe that other people know me better than I know myself. And what follows is the inevitable ignoring of that little voice in my head saying, “this is a bad idea.”

I took this news home and told anyone who would listen that there was a promotion available, and I was thinking of applying for it. I wanted advice, I wanted thoughtfulness, I wanted praise for my hard work. I wanted someone to tell me that I could do this job, but there was no one who could tell me what I wanted to hear. I had to find out on my own. I also talked to the higher ups, including the store manager, Daryl who would oversee the new spots. A fact that only added to the jobs appeal. I had worked for Daryl on the overnight shift, and I had liked him. He was easy to talk to, nice, and always made the crew under him feel like they were all working toward the same goal, unlike other managers I had worked for when they feel as if their crew should shutter at the sound of their voice.

The interview was conducted by Daryl, which he explained to me in detail what the job consisted of and what my responsibilities were, there was even talk about how my application bumped other applicants down a notch. A nugget that again stroked a very neglected part of my ego and started to add strength to my confidence. It felt good. And I was determined to get this job right. It didn’t take long for word to come back on my favor, a first for everything.

For about a minute and a half I was, dare I say, proud of myself. These people I had been working for, with had thought well enough of me and the job I had been doing to put me in charge of a bigger job. They didn’t think of me as trouble or a liar or untrustworthy, or a screwup. They trusted me to get the job done. I had earned it.

Hold onto something because here comes my second mistake.

I took the job as Cap Team Supervisor with the understanding of how things were going to run and who would be running them. I had asked all the questions and gotten all the answers, these were major factors in the decision of taking the job. But as always, nothing could be trusted, or counted on. From the start I had felt overwhelmed, unsupported, and left out there to survive on my own. Depending on what manager was on duty was the difference in answers or instructions. While one team of management might tell us to focus on the sort of the truck, the other on another day would tell us we needed to get the departments on the floor worked. Work unfinished by other shifts, departments, or just other employees often fell to the Cap Team to clean up or finish. Overstock that should have been binned on shelves in the back were left on carts we needed to sort incoming freight. Wrapped pallets of overstock taken down off a high stack to fetch one item would be left where it sat on the dancefloor.

Maybe it was Wally World Inc. or the store manager, Bret, or maybe it was Daryl himself, but one of them reached down and grabbed the edge of my metaphorical rug and yanked. Before I knew it, I was ass over elbows.

In a quick succession of moves, the job I had signed up for evaporated. The man in charge moved to another shift. Replaced by a mouthy little shit that loved the sound of his own voice more than any one of those plastic dolls on one of those “Real Housewives” shows. He thought a lot of himself, and I could feel it roll off him even before he opened his mouth. I had been in one of the outer offices complaining about one thing or another and looking for suggestions or resolutions to the problems that seemed to be piling up around me.

“I have big plans on how we can change this system and make it better, more efficient and less waste of time,” Danny had said sitting in the corner of the office looking at his phone the first time I saw him. That office was always crowded with management, a place employee out on the floor said they went to hide so I hadn’t paid him any attention. I didn’t know who he was or why he was commenting on a conversation he hadn’t been invited into when Daryl was nice enough to clue me in.

“Oh, this is Danny. He will be taking my place as Cap Team Manager.”

I didn’t like him from the jump. He wore his sunglasses on his head and spoke as if all the problems we had would simply vanish once “wait until they get a load of me”. And as much as I hoped that were true, I had my doubts. It didn’t take me long to realize that our new leader was there under his own set of skillful praise.

Our replacement leader was not only wanting the usual the two, sometimes three, truckloads of freight unloaded and sorted but was also looking to impress the elders. He volunteered us to have more and more departments on the floor stocked by the time the night crew came into stock. All of this with a constantly fluctuating crew of hires, fires, and quitters, not to mention the ones who were always continuous and on more than one occasion violent.

“Davidson!” I had shouted over the sound of rollers on the line, a stretchable line of rollers carrying boxes down off the truck and to the guys sorting it at the other end. Davidson, a new hire, was the size of a football player and easily must have weighed 400 pounds. He had only been working a week and even though his temper was quick triggered, he could throw an entire truck from one end to the other without complaint. The problem was he had a nasty habit of shoving the boxes down the line as if he were launching grenades at the enemy. Doing so, damaged freight, sent freight off the line and smashed fingers of the guys on the other end.

“Davidson!” I shouted again, trying to get his attention. When he finally looked at me, I felt a little spooked by the look on his face. “You are pushing too hard again!”

“Man, why don’t you tell these assholes to hurry the hell up!” he shouted back at me. “Look at the line, its packed full again!”

“Yes, I know, it does that when they have to move and reset pallets.”

“Fuck that!” he shouted and started down the line of rollers violently forcing the line of boxes to spill out onto the floor and bunch together. Boxes of every shape, size and weight spilled out onto the floor of both the trailer and the dance floor where guys on the other end shouted for the line to stop. But all I could do is watch this brute of a man as he stormed toward me. The only thing I could think was, “I hope he hurts me because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

For this job, I had stepped so far outside my comfort zone, so far outside the box, so far away from what I am and who I am, I couldn’t even find my comfort anymore. I was miserable and unhappy. All I thought about anymore was work. How to deal with it. How to survive it. I took a job I thought I could learn how to do and found myself drifting alone out at sea without a harbor insight. I did the best I could with every ounce of myself, and with little to no help or advice from the upper management. I felt used.

I knew even before I pushed open that heavy wooden door leading into the small manager’s office, that my six-month performance review was going to be a far cry from the positive reviews I had received before. But I didn’t really know how bad until I opened the door and found not one but three managers sitting around the tiny room, none of them make eye contact.

Walmart has a policy that when reviews or talks are given there is supposed to be another person in the room as a witness to what happened. The fact that Danny, thought he needed two other people with him meant that he was concerned with how that little meeting was going to go. It was unlikely that he was concerned that my happiness at my good review would send me into such gleeful hysterics that I would be unable to control myself and he would need these other two to pull my fat ass off him. I thought I felt something hit the floor between my feet, turned out it was that last bit of heart.

Standing there in that manager's office that day, my fight-or-flight mechanism twitched. It felt like a morgue, as if no one wanted to be in there, especially me. I thought I was going to be fired. I had wished, contemplated, threatened, and screamed and maybe even prayed a little over the past months for the strength to quit, to walk out of that building and never come back. But I hadn't, I kept pushing, kept trying to get it right. I tortured myself for absolutely nothing.

“Come in, have a seat, Jennifer,” Danny said, speaking first, and I did, reluctantly.

The small office was square in shape with just enough room to hold two desks on either side of the room. One desk was held a computer, files, and manuals, while the one across from it seemed to be the catch all for everything else that came into the room. Four plastic chairs filled the space between the desk, all but one was occupied. The room felt tighter than it had before, and I felt a twinge of claustrophobia, another kick to my fight or flight. To give myself a little room, I leaned my butt against the catch all desk and put my feet in the chair, giving Danny my undivided.

Danny sat with his back to the computer, papers in his hands. I had tried to like him; some days were easier than others. He was an average guy with average looks, but something about him just told you a bald head and beer gut was somewhere in his future. He had thin blonde hair, combed back from his face, and usually topped with his sunglasses, but not that day. He was one of those guys who was always warning people about what a bad ass he was which was probably one of the first things I didn’t like about him.

Brandon, the overnight manager, sat in front of the door, opposite of Danny. Handsome, sweet, and a good personality with a fondness for bike riding and music. I don’t think I ever saw him get upset, though I did see reflections of a bad day set in his face, though he never took it out on people. There was a woman there, but I cannot remember who she was and if she said anything I don’t remember what it could have been.

“As you know, it's time for your six-month review,” Danny started, some papers sitting on his crossed legs.

Sitting on the desk, my hands gripping the edge to the point of pain. I leaned on my hands, and let my head fall between my shoulders. I don’t know if my brain registered what he was saying at first or if I was just trying to save myself the disappointment of hearing it all by only reaching out to grasp ahold of certain words--

“--giving you the lowest score possible--”

“--this job isn’t for you--”

“--not good with people--”

“--complaints against you--”

Every word felt like a blow to my self-esteem, the pain of complete failure. I felt like an idiot. Nothing I had done, nothing I had tried to do, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, driving myself crazy with anger and frustration to do a good job did any good. It didn't matter that Danny had never pulled me aside and told me there was a problem. It didn't seem to matter then when the company instigated a new protocol; they asked for time to iron out the kinks; a courtesy not allotted to me. Danny gave me the lowest score allowed, so all the other scores I had received before this, all the hard work I did before, wiped out.

There was something about me that Danny didn't like, but the reason is unclear. I know that when he first arrived and increased our workload without the stabilizing the workload, we already had; I told him so. When a former manager I worked under came back as a regular Joe and didn't like me telling him what to do, tried to rile up the crew against me. I didn't hide my anger at him for putting me through it. Maybe it was me not liking him. I have never been good at hiding my disdain. And as he was reading off my review, he had made no effort to hide himself. Afterword, I heard rumors about his distaste for women who were less than cooperative. Of course, people could have just been saying that to be sympathetic.

I don’t know if it were the tears, I could no longer hold back or the feel like something alien like was about to come through my chest, but I very much needed to be out of that room and away from that man. Before anyone could move, I was on my feet weaving through legs and chairs, passed Danny and the witness to my humiliation, fighting to get out that door as if the room were on fire, mumbling through a tight throat and dry mouth about needing a minute. I weaved I was in a full-blown panic, but there wasn’t any relief on the other side of that door.

I poured out of that tiny office as if there hadn’t been enough air inside and hoped to find a great big lungful of relief in that grey hallway that ran the length of the store. To my annoyance, I only found more people. I had to get away from people. The voices, the energy, the words felt like fingers touching me, agitating me, holding me down and keeping me there. If I didn’t, I would draw attention, attention I didn’t want or need, and eventually someone would ask what was wrong, a question my ego wasn’t ready to admit out loud; that I’d been an idiot and a fool to think that hard work and determination would get me through, would earn me a little corrective feedback if I were doing it wrong or maybe a little respect. But apparently, that was another one of those fairy tales like unconditional love and they create all men equal.

There wasn’t a lot of praise in my family. Or understanding, support, or emotion for that matter. My mother was one who couldn’t hide her distain either, though hers was directed at me. She hated everything about me and wasn’t shy about telling me about it. She never would admit she didn’t like me, but I could feel it. She hated me for making her a mother, and maker her feel things she didn’t want to feel; like guilt at not being around. I tried everything to win her love. Changed who I was, what I want, what I looked like, but there was always something. It wasn’t until she got a call from Texas, two states away from her Kansas home. A man she barely knew on the other end. He was fighting with me, hitting me, spitting on me, and he was calling so she could listen. The man continued his tirade, cursing me, punching me, backing me into the corner of the room. On his way out of the room, he picked up the phone to tell her, I was a whore before throwing the phone down and leaving the room. When I felt safe enough to go for the phone, some part of me thought she might ask if I was alright, I was wrong. “How could any daughter of mine be so stupid?”

I squeezed past people, elbowed through groups and freight being rolled this direction or that, mumbling something that sounded perversely polite. I burst through the swinging double doors that lead out of the back and onto the sales floor. I was somewhere between the men’s department and the shoes when I caught sight of Carmon, someone I considered a friend, and she of me.

“Jennifer, what’s wrong?” the small woman said moving toward me. For the briefest of seconds, I wanted to tell her, “I fucked up!” I wanted to let go of all that anger and frustration, hurt and outrage, but I stopped myself. If I opened my mouth and let it out, it probably wasn’t going to be pleasant, or kind or quiet for that matter. I liked Carmen, she had been sweet to me when I first started, and even bought me a cake and present for my birthday once. I didn’t want to take this out on her. Before she could get to me, I waved a hand at her and hurried away, cutting through the baby department into the men’s department.

I dodged and weaved past people, carts, displays and shelves until I burst out into the night air, taking a sharp deep breath as if coming up from underwater. I moved out of the flow of traffic coming in and out of the store and over to the side of the building where there were no people and no lights. The cool night air felt good on skin soaked in sweat and heated with fever. I took long, deep drags of smoke, held it in my lungs before blowing what my lungs didn’t absorb out through my nostrils.

A smile that held no laughter spread across my face as my tightened throat grew unbearable as I completely let go. The tears that had all fallen where joined by others and leaning against the cement building, I slide down the wall until my ass met the ground. You idiot! You stupid fucking idiot! I wanted to scream, but the sight of customers passing by kept me from it, even in my state, I still tried to be a good employee.

I’m not sure how long I sat there on the dirty cement. I knew it wasn’t long enough, the only way it would have been to never have went back inside, and for a minute I thought about it, but even that was beyond my ability to do. My son was in there, working the third shift we had started together, but I had thought I was special, good. But there was also the freedom. My entire life had been at someone else’s discretion. I got married too young, had kids too young, divorced too young. Through all of it, I was helped by others until the choices I made for my life, my children’s lives were no longer my own. That job afforded me a freedom that I could have gotten nowhere else.

Once back inside the cell, I tried to busy myself with removing pens, printer pages, and lists that I always seemed to be stuffed or sticking out of some pocket or another. I stripped off the navy-blue vest with the built-in yellow target on the back in case an active shooter happened to wonder if half his work was already done for him, as Danny continued reading aloud my list of flaws and defects, rounding it off with my lack of civil tone.

“You have several complaints against you from your crew.”

“I give as good as I get, Danny! If they choose to be a constant pain in my ass, constantly take up time, constantly need attention and argumentative, we are not going to be buddies. This is a job not Romper Room!” I said, feeling my control slipping with every word I uttered. Out of the fifteen some odd guys that were on the crew at the time, I bet I could have narrowed down that list to the two or three that had the problem with me. They had had that problem since day one. Some of the guys didn’t like being put in departments where I needed them but wanted to be put in the departments where they wanted to go. They didn’t like that when they gave me shit, I gave it right back.

“Speaking of complaints, is there a reason why this review needs an audience?”

All three seemed to try and speak at once, but Danny’s voice won out. “There needs to be a witness…” Brandon jumped to his feet and volunteered to go as if he couldn’t wait to get out of that room. It wasn’t the only one feeling it. Danny continued to ramble about how much I suck and told me he couldn't make me quit the position, but he thought I would be better off as a department manager working by myself.

“Do you have any openings for department managers?” I’d asked, hoping to get away from him as fast as possible.

“No.”

I threw the nylon vest I had balled in my hands onto the desk behind him, by tomorrow the story would sound as if I threw a hammer at his head instead of a nylon vest. I was done. I was done with this conversation, with this company, with this whole job.

“And by that action, I can see I’ve made the right choice.”

As soon as I was out of that office, I was on my phone first texting my son who was at work somewhere in the building and then calling my husband. I was looking for support, compassion, an ally, but the more I told him the angrier I became. I had worked hard, done my best and gotten the work done. My voice became louder and louder echoing in the hollows of the back room. I felt out of control and on the verge of madness, while my husband kept telling me to stop and calm down before they fired me. His concern for the job, the paycheck, outweighed his concern for my pride, my hurt, my self-respect. I’m sure that if I had been in a different state of mind some part of me might have been able to understand that, but not nearly enough.

I quit my job as supervisor and went back to stocking shelves with my son for a couple more weeks at least. I saw Danny in the store from time to time until one day he was gone. I heard he took another job at another retailer. And one of the few females that had been on the unloading crew took my spot as supervisor, though I heard she didn’t fare much better.

I like to think I learned a little bit about myself. For one, I don’t play well with others. And I don’t like it when the fate of the project depends on others. Wally-World can say a lot of things about me, but they can’t say that I didn’t get shit done. After I left, I started looking for something better, something that might make me feel good about myself. Something to prove to myself that I am better than some egotistical blow hard. Something that said, not so stupid. I decided to go to college. I am currently working toward my bachelor’s degree in English and Creative Writing.

[evans-heaven]

“Hey, legend,”~s.m.

Not What I Can’t Have part three, I knowww but y’all will get that soon, don’t worry! I gotta make it perfect first <3.

For now enjoy idkhowmanywords of fluff. Hope y’all enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What next?” I murmured, staring at the illuminated screen of my laptop, at the page half filled with pure mumbo-jumbo. 

How about I put....no.

Oh! What about.....God no.

I slammed my laptop shut, groaning. Having my fingers hover over the keyboard while my brain conjured up and immediately denied the next sentence I would write always drove me over the edge. Being a writer was my dream, yes. But I never imagined that it would cause me so much frustration and anger.

I sighed deeply, picked the laptop up, and walked over to the desk opposite my king sized bed. As I set it down, I heard the tiniest of ‘meows’ come from behind me, and I smiled. I turned to face the door, and, sure enough, my orange Tabby Cat, Jimi, stood  there, staring at me with jade green feline eyes, head tilted, ears pointed, face angry as always.

“I’m okay, Jim. Just...fed up,” I shrugged, walking back over to the bed and crawling back on top of it. I patted the empty spot next to me, and he jumped onto it eagerly. He curled his fluffy, twenty pound body into a tight ball and closed his eyes, setting himself up for one of his many deep slumbers. I sometimes looked at him and felt envious.. If only I could sleep as much as he did. My career, unfortunately, did not make life so easy.

I only ever let Jimi on the bed when my husband Shawn wasn’t home. And tonight was one of those occasions.

I wasn’t mad about it- I had grown used to his absence. It did, however, make his homecomings more anticipated. Holding each other in a tight embrace for however long the universe would allow us would always be the highlight of my year each time he came home from 8 month tours. We had been together for 5 years, married for 1, and yet still, looking at him always reminded how in love I was with him, and never failed to make me fall even deeper.

Tonight, he was at the VMAs in Los Angeles, where  he was nominated and performing. The show was immediately after the end of the NA leg of his tour, so he had to fly to Los Angeles instead of coming straight home.

 Normally, I’d be right by his side at award shows, always being the loudest in the audience and the first to stand when he won an award, but duty held me back. I was extremely backed up on work from my job at Seventeen magazine. Of course, Shawn was one of my top priorities, but that night, my job mattered way more.

I might have been his self proclaimed good luck charm, and he didn’t miss a beat calling me this morning freaking out about his performance, saying that he would totally screw up and embarrass himself in front of tens of thousands of people (though I knew his only concern was Ed Sheeran) because I wasn’t there, but I had to put work first. I was a senior editor for a reason.

However, this senior editor was half a typo away from shooting her laptop with 9mm Glock and quitting her job.

Goddamn, I’m missing the VMAs to struggle with my so called profession? Why was I even hired? I thought. I should have just been a trophy wife. All they had to worry about was which dress to wear for which event and which arm to link with her husband on the red carpet of some frivolous event. The simple life, it seemed.

I looked at Jimi, he was fast asleep. Jimi. So named after Jimi Hendrix, legendary guitarist and one of Shawn’s idols. It was a final decision between that and Tori (short for Toronto). In the end we went with the obviously less tacky and Canadian choice. He still barely responded to his given name, but it was already engraved in his collar and there was no going back after shit was set in stone. Or in this case, stainless steel.

He was basically the only company I had in this huge condo in downtown Toronto when Shawn was gone, but I didn’t mind too much. He may have slept 90% of the day, but he was still there with me. And company that was lazy, uncooperative, and the cat equivalent of sleeping beauty was better than no company at all.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the buzzing of my phone on the bedside table. I stretched my arm over and picked it up. It was a text from Shawn.

You like? 

Attached was a photo of him, black and white, sitting on a couch most likely backstage at the VMAs, staring intensely at the camera. His navy blue suit coat was missing, and the sleeves of his shirt, originally blue and white, were rolled to his elbows. His hand was at his chest with his thumb tucked into his shirt.

I bit my lip and held back a heavy sigh, as though not to wake Jimi up. Again, 5 years together, and things like this didn’t fail to bring me to my knees in awe. My husband was beautiful. I wasn’t being shallow. I was stating facts.

My thumbs flew across the screen as I replied to his text.

Is that even a question? You greek god, you ;)

Not even a second later, his reply came up.

I’m calling you. I miss your voice.

Sure enough, right after his text came, his name came up on the screen of my phone, indicating an incoming call. I wasted no time accepting it and pressing the device to my ear.

“Hey, legend,” I mumbled, smiling lightly.

“Hi, darling,” he whispered. I had heard the phrase so many times, Whether it was when he would come home from the studio and follow it with a hearty kiss, or if he was simply coming up behind me while we made dinner together and I was at the chopping board, he always let those words slip past his mouth and I always let them make my insides melt. His throaty voice and the way each syllable would role off his tongue turned my insides into pure liquid.

“Why is it that I can be so deprived of your voice even though I heard it only this morning?” he chuckled. He was all I heard. There was no background noise. i wondered where he was. Clearly not backstage, other wise I wouldn’t have been able to hear a word he was saying.

“I guess I have than affect on you, huh?” I teased. He could be a cheeky little shit sometimes as well, but I took the cake. I knew how to get under his skin (and use it to my advantage) when the time felt right.

I could almost feel his smirk from the other line. “Of course you do, darling. You know my desperate love for you reaches great lengths. It could put the great wall of China out of business,” he said smugly, and for a moment, I wondered if I was talking to my husband or a Tumblr poet. But then I remembered he could be a mix of both sometimes.

“Whatever, Mendes,” I rolled my eyes and dismissed his comment. I tried my best not to feel his imaginary ego sometimes.It only made it grow, which always made me laugh.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“Laying on the bed, talking to you, wishing I didn’t choose to be a writer,” I lamented, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Y/N,” Shawn warned, and I winced. He hated it when I talked badly about my job. He always reminded why I was hired and that I shouldn’t doubt my ability or my bosses for hiring me. “How many times have I told you that one or two slip ups is completely normal?” he questioned.

“Says you,” I scoffed. “You slip up in front of millions of people and everyone thinks its adorable. I do it in front of an entire board room and I feel my degree in Journalism being torn to shreds,” I said.

“Adorable?” he laughed. “Hardly,” he said. “Are you taking a break?”

“Yeah, obviously,”

“Good. Don’t worry, darling, you’ll bounce back up in the morning. Whatever you’re writing will hands down be the best thing to ever grace the pages of Seventeen, I know it,”

I narrowed my eyes. “You always say that,”

“And I always mean it,”

I smiled. I knew he did. He always would. “So, are you nervous?” I asked, toying with my wedding ring- my birthstone, pear shaped. It left a permanent imprint on my finger, for I never took it off unless I absolutely had to. I felt naked without it. It had basically become a new body part.

“Eh,” he said. “I guess so. I’m kind of like a see saw right now. I’m either nervous as fuck and ready to back the hell out of this, or so confident I practically feel like God. Its fluctuating,” he explained, and I nodded as if he could see me. 

“Makes sense,” I said. “Don’t worry, rockstar, you’re gonna kill it, I have full faith in you,” I said warmly. Just because I couldn’t be with him didn’t mean I couldn’t send some positive vibes, even if they were received from 4,052 kilometers away.

“Thank you, darling. I still wish you could be here with me. It doesn’t feel the same without you, knowing that this is the first VMAs you’re missing since we started dating,” he sighed. I could picture him, if he was sitting, either toying with the collar of his shirt or bobbing his leg up and down. Right or left?

“Work held me back, Shawn. You know I wish I could be there with you,” I told him.

“I know, baby. But, good luck charm or no good luck charm, talking with you right now is the only confidence boost I need,” he said. “Your voice is like a steroid shot or something, and I mean that in the best way possible,”

My face heated at his quirky, funny, yet so, so endearing comment. “God, if only you knew how badly I wanted to crawl through this phone and tackle you to the ground with kisses,” I groaned, throwing my head back.

Shawn’s POV

“Oh really?” I laughed. “How badly, darling?” I asked, standing up from the leather couch in my personal dressing room. I began to pace the length of the space, my eyes drifting up to the outfit I was to wear on stage that hung on a rack. It was nothing fancy, just a gray shirt with my basic black jeans and boots. I didn’t believe in going over the top with things like that unless it had to do with the musical aspect of the performance. I didn’t have to look like I raided Party City to put on a spectacular show.

She giggled on the other line. “When you get home and I shower you with as many kisses as my lips will allow, you’ll know how bad,” she said, and I was almost certain she winked.

“Then damn, I can’t wait to get home,” I concluded. She could have absolutely nothing waiting for me at home and it would still be anxiously anticipated. Her on a whole would be the only ‘welcome home’ gift I would require.

I loved this woman with my entire body, mind, and soul. She had my heart and I had hers. I dared anybody to try to take them away from us.

“How’s Jimi?” I asked. He was a bossy, orange devil, but I still cared about the little fucker, even if I was convinced he had it out to get me.

“He’s right here next to me, sleeping in your spot,” she answered, and I furrowed my brow.

“Baby, I thought I told you not to-”

“Well someone has to fill your spot!” she argued before I could finish.

I laughed. “God, a cat replaces me when I’m not home. Tragic and wrong,” I shook my head and chuckled. 

“Then you better rush home and rectify said wrong, Mr Mendes,” she teased.

“Oh, trust me, I’m counting down the hours til I can, Mrs Mendes,” I smirked, sticking my free hand in my pocket.

“How many hours?” she asked softly. And then suddenly, I knew I had hit a nerve with my statement. We hadn’t seen each other in months. Talking about my return or her visits was bittersweet. They never lasted as long as we wanted.

“Baby,” I cooed. I wanted nothing more than to fold her in my embrace. But I couldn’t. “Its okay. Only 15 more hours until we get to see each other again. Only 15, nothing more,”

“How I wish it were less,” she laughed slightly, and that lifted my spirits. Hearing her sounds of joy, even if they were the smallest of noises, made me feel like I was about to enter the gates of heaven sometimes.

“I’m not father time, love. But I’ll race home to you as fast as I can as soon as the show is over,” I said. There was a knock on my door and Andrew’s head popped in. “One second, Y/N,” I said, and pressed the phone to my chest. “Is it almost time?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “Get dressed, you’re on in ten,”

I gave him a thumbs up and he closed the door. I put Y/N on speaker and walked over to my change of clothes, pulling them off the rack.

“I’m on soon, baby. I gotta hang up in a bit,” I said. 15 more hours.

“Oh,” she said, and there was most certainly a deep pout on her face. “Well rockstar, I guess this is it,” she exclaimed, perking up.

“This is it!” I repeated, chuckling. I pulled my dress shirt off the put the other one on, buttoning it up almost all the way before I removed my belt and dress pants, pulling the black jeans on. “Hey, darling?” I asked after my pants were zipped up.

“Yeah, babe?” she answered.

“You’ll be watching, right?” I clarified. I knew she would be, but what if at the last second she wouldn’t? Maybe she didn’t want to see her trainwreck of a husband totally fuck it up (in the terribly bad way) on the stage? Even through the TV she would feel the humiliation.

“No, Shawn, I won’t be watching at all. I’ll be too busy trying to teach Jimi to write an article for me,” she drawled sarcastically.

I groaned jokingly and stomped my foot after I laced up my boots. “Can you not joke for a second, love?” I laughed, taking her off speaker and bringing the phone back to my ear. I looked in the mirror and straightened my hair, combing he loose strands back from my forehead. Fresh haircuts never lasted long- my hair grew quick. My fans loved it. I was always led myself to think they love ‘the curls’ more than me.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed. “Shawn, you know I’ll always have my eyes on your performances, even in the most unreasonable, unrealistic of circumstances. I wouldn’t miss you for the world,” she said sincerely. I could picture the look in her glimmering eyes, the way they would twinkle in a manner only for me, only when she looked at me.

“You promise?” her reassurance was my saving grace at this point. My heart rammed against my chest like a caged beast wanting to escape incarceration. My palms were sweaty and my body trembled. The norm. The day this didn’t happen before any performance that I had, was the day I stopped being human. I craved this feeling to remind me that I cared, but at the same time, I dreaded it, because it brought on an onslaught of negative ‘what ifs’ that flooded my brain.

“I promise, Shawn. I’ll always promise to be there for you.Even if I’m not with you. I will always be there for you,” she said, and I knew she was nodding firmly.

My darling. I couldn’t picture life with out her anymore. She had become my everything.

“I love you so much,” I mused, feeling my throat clog up. The things she did to me. This wouldn’t be the first time her words brought me to tears. It wouldn’t be the last either.

“I love you too, big guy. Go out there and kill it!” she squealed.

I turned the doorknob and stepped out. My team stood outside the door, scrambling to get the equipment ready.

“Bye bye, darling. I’ll be picturing you out there,” I said.

She giggled that angel like giggle. “Bye, legend,” she said, and kissed the receiver before hanging up.

Legend. She always called me that. And she was one of the reasons I would work as hard as I possible could until i became one. One like her.

She was my legend.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope y’all enjoyed :)

[cannibalisticskittles]

an act of kindness, ch. 7

pairing: unknown/reader notes: [7/?] part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six part seven of the unknown route fic, 10,000+ words long. i’m gonna sleep for a week now, bye

Over the course of the next few days, you begin to understand the broader picture.

You get pieces of the puzzle one at a time, so there’s still much that’s unclear, but there’s at least one thing you know with absolute certainty:

Your boss fucking hates that redheaded hacker.

And he certainly doesn’t seem fond of the photographer with the expensive dyejob, though given how infrequently he shows up for a chat, you’re not yet sure if your boss’ hate for V is on the same level of what he has for the hacker.

But good god, does his mood sour whenever the hacker appears in the chatroom logs. And considering how often that seems to happen, this means that you’ve been dealing with a very grumpy Boss these last few days.

He reads pretty much all the messages with indifference, regardless of content, but the hacker could say the most innocuous thing, just… comment on the blueness of the sky, and your wonderful boss would immediately start to mutter under his breath and hunch in agitation.

Which… has pretty much already happened. Never seen someone get so angry just from hearing someone else say the stars look lovely.

“They’re traitors,” he says when you cautiously broach the subject, hoping to get some clue as to why he’s so affected by them, and then he tightens his arms around your waist and drops his chin sullenly to your shoulder.

You try some gentle prodding after that, during times he seems calmer – just in case knowing would be important or helpful to you later. Your efforts change nothing; he remains broodingly mum, and you get the feeling that whatever history there is there, he’s not keen on opening up about it, not now.

He is, at least, much more genial when it comes to the rest of this group – and oh, yes, wasn’t that a fine revelation? The girl in the apartment is meant to lure in a group called the RFA – Rika’s Fundraising Association.

Yes, despite the interesting composition of the group, it is a charity group that he – and by extension, you – are targeting. He’s been working up to stalking and kidnapping a charity group. That’s what you’ve been assisting him with.

Oh, and that random innocent girl. He plans to kidnap her, too. Can’t forget that. …if there is moral judging to be done of you someday, there is not a single aspect of this situation that will speak well of you.

He certainly doesn’t see it that way, though. No, he seems… genuinely excited when he talks about the plans to “bring them to paradise” – to allow them to attain true happiness at last and heal their pain.

Which is – well, horrifying, but illuminating. Whatever grudge he has against the hacker and the photographer doesn’t carry over to the rest of the RFA.

In addition to the two he seethes over, the group is composed of: an admittedly adorable college student and MMO enthusiast who seems to be sacrificing the former for the latter in every chatlog you’ve read thus far; a musical theater actor with an ego the size of a planet but a face like a god; a cat-obsessed businessman who fluctuates between awkwardly charming and painfully obtuse; and an extremely overworked assistant who you sympathize with immediately and who honestly deserves a week off from the usual bullshit, not more bullshit in the form of this cult trying to induct her into their ranks.

He points out all the strains and stresses of the members as you familiarize yourself with them, though he leaves out the other two, uninterested in delving into what their sorrows could be. They all, he says, are struggling with their own pain, suffering alone as they fail to be understood, as they wander aimlessly through life. Is a life spent mourning without resolution, or perpetually chasing a wish that still has not bore fruit, or failing to connect, or fading away, powerless, really living?

Wouldn’t they be so much happier if they had someone who could ease their burdens, show them the way to escape this world that harms them so?

And, lucky them, they can , because there’s a party soon to be held in their honor – an “endless” one. Set to coincide with with a party that the RFA has decided to throw in the next few days, without questioning the mysterious girl who dropped into the messenger or whether that could be at all suspicious.

Like, goddamn. You’re doing your best here but this might be easier if any of them were just a touch more cautious. Maybe wait two weeks before starting to plan a grand-scale party, not just a little less than one, huh? Unbelievable.

“So… hey, boss,” you ask after he’s finished filling you in, yet again, on how wonderful life could be after dragging this charity group to paradise. “As your assistant, should I be… involved in party prep? Y’know, calling caterers, ordering balloons and streamers? And, hey, what color should I go with? I don’t want anything to clash, but it should have a theme , shouldn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t even guess at mint? Magenta?” He chuckles. “A little off your game today.”

Shit, he’s right. Step it up, self.

“But no,” he says, “it’s not quite that kind of party.” He hums a low note and rests his chin on your shoulder as he continues to scroll through one of the more recent logs. “Though they will be just as happy. Any preparations to be made for that are already underway.”

“…yeah? Like what?”

“We’ve already taken most of the necessary steps for their initiation, and their elixir will ready shortly, as well.”

“Elixir?” That doesn’t sound good.

He chuckles. “You’ll find out what it is soon enough.” He still seems to delight in your moments of uncertainty sometimes. “Don’t worry–” He traces idle circles onto your stomach, and even with the barrier of your shirt between you, you shiver.

That barrier hasn’t been a constant, either. You’re not willing to say the new outfits were a mistake – on the contrary, having something clean to wear is life-changing, one of the few bright spots in the past few days of unpleasantness – but it does allow for slightly more intimate moments, skin-against skin when he wraps his arms around your waist as he works. Though while he has unquestionably been… touchy, he hasn’t gotten like he did at the thrift store, thank god for that. If there’s any trace of disappointment at that fact, you push it aside.

Now, though, he lingers so long after speaking, focused only on touching you, that you almost miss it when he continues, voice a little softer, a little more affection. “I’ve made sure that yours will be ready sooner, and then you can officially welcome them into paradise.”

“Sounds… wonderful, boss. Can’t wait.”

Though you can almost forget how ominous that statement is when you consider, well, just about every other goddamn sentence out of his mouth. It’s like he just gets more comfortable spouting off worrying new details about this place the more he – well, the more he thinks you’re genuinely going along for this? Which means this is working, and you suppose you’re grateful for any scrap of information you can get that you could use to get out of here, but this is just… a lot.

What makes it worse is how calm everything seems to become.

Sure, having to follow the girl to be sure she didn’t change her mind after getting the apartment’s address like you did – and possibly through the same route the he took when he tried to lure you in what seems like a lifetime ago but has really only been days ago – was nerve-wracking, but… she took the bait. She agreed.

Though there was a moment when she reached the door and got the code sent to her… she seemed to hesitate and your heart stopped. It wasn’t something you’d really let yourself think about before, just… sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen – if she turned away like you did and he tried to drag her back to paradise, what would you do?

If you had tried to stop him, would it have worked? Would she have helped you to escape, too? If it didn’t work, what would happen to you, and even if it did, how long would that last? But it’s not like you could have just let it happen , let alone helped to intimidate her into the car that would take her to the cult you’re tangled up with.

But it didn’t matter, because a second later – maybe even just a half-second, really, extended by your fear – she input the code and stepped inside the apartment.

It wasn’t until you’d gone down the elevator and ducked into a little alcove outside the apartment that you’d thought with any degree of certainty that the plan went smoothly, and then it took reaching the car to know for sure. Lingering in the halls was apparently not the best idea now that someone else might start checking the security cameras and see the both of you.

Maddeningly, he’d checked his phone, made a soft little “hmmm,” and tucked it away again in order to take your hand and start towards the car. Once you were both in, though, you couldn’t help yourself.

“So? She is in, isn’t she, boss?”

When he looked up, his expression was immensely satisfied. “Yes,” he says, “she’s already spoken to everyone, and it seems they’ve accepted her.” He smirked. “They’re already sending selfies.”

“Well… darn, what a shame I had to miss that,” you said. But thank god, thank god, she would be safe in there for now, at least.

“Oh, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know them later.” And he remained in high spirits on the drive back to paradise.

The anxiety really only began to ease up when you were back in his workroom, watching the camera feeds. The distance made the situation feel marginally more manageable.

You just… need to figure out to keep her, and the RFA, away from him, and everyone here. And yeah, you have no fucking clue how you’re going to do that, but you’d have had even less of a chance if he’d snatched her up then and there, so technically you’re at an advantage, right?

And then you keep tabs on her – on all of them. It’s not too different from what you’d done before, actually, just… shifting focus a little.

He’s smart enough to keep from contacting her after setting her up in the apartment, save for a brief, ominous message after the pair of you returned to paradise.

“You’re not dangerous, are you?” she’d sent, and god, you hope not, you really do.

There’s not even much direct monitoring, or at least, not as much you were expecting. Though you do go through plenty of the chatroom logs with him, there’s very few that you see in real-time, and some that you, at least, don’t see at all. Lingering there while the redheaded hacker is there is too great a risk, it seems, too easy to be detected.

If he’s monitoring the rest of them while you sleep you wouldn't’ be particularly surprised, though he hasn’t deigned to share anything he learned during these early chats if that’s the case. Still, even with the incomplete picture you’re seeing, well. It’s insightful, to say the least. In a really weird way.

More than just getting used to their schedules, you get used to them. The chatrooms are far more intimate than scouring social media profiles – after only a few days, your voyeuristic monitoring makes it feel as if you know them.

It’s even kind of fun watching them sometimes, which is – probably pretty bad, if you think about it. You are not a known participant to these conversations, you were not meant to know any of this, and they would probably be uncomfortable as hell if they knew. Beyond uncomfortable.

And yet, the feeling persists.

You get used to Zen’s selfies, but you don’t roll your eyes at them as much as you might have before. Your perception of him seems to shift from narcissism to – well, okay, he still seems pretty up his own ass when it comes to his looks, but not to the point of ignoring others. Now he seems more like… a protective older brother to most of the RFA. Particularly to Yoosung, although Yoosung seems to be the baby of the group, anyway. Zen is just – a lot. Dramatic, and very romantic, but rooted, particularly when it counts the most.

Jumin, too, becomes more three-dimensional the more you see of him. Stoic still, yes, but oddly earnest at times, and you get used to bursts of affection in the midst of what had otherwise been a calm and collected conversation. Admittedly, this is usually – okay, almost always – towards cats, his own in particular, but there’s a quiet sense of protectiveness you get from him, too. Not as brash or overt as Zen, but… reading his responses, you get the sense of a man who is, at least, attempting to watch over them, always willing to offer advice or a guiding hand. And it always catches you off guard when he attempts to make a joke. Who knew a rich boy could be funny sometimes?

You get used to watching his moments of cat-adoration grow into ideas that he shifts over to Jaehee, too. He needs to give that poor woman a break and a bonus so she can actually enjoy her time off. Anything less than a week would be absolutely criminal, and if this has been going on for as long as you suspect, she deserves a month on a tropical island with HD copies of each of Zen’s performances. Her dedication is admirable, even if it’s running her ragged. You come to see the kindness behind her worries, and the warmth that she shares with the new girl.

You get used to hearing Yoosung rave about his LOLOL character and bemoan server maintenances, and you come to expect him in the early-morning chatrooms, kept awake by the need to finish just one quest more, or grind for an item he’s sure he’s about to get. And… you see how much of a shock this situation is, seeing this new girl suddenly take up his cousin’s responsibilities and becoming someone that the RFA turns to. It’s clear that Rika meant a lot to him, and he hasn’t quite healed from her loss yet – not that you can really fault him, given how sudden it seems her death was. He seems to blame himself for not knowing sooner and… well. How do you learn to be at peace with something like that? There’s no way to apologize or make amends for not seeing clues now, so maybe the obsession with games is just clinging desperately to distractions from the thoughts. He’s reading signs into the girl’s appearance, taking every parallel as encouragement from his cousin – that she’s with them still, perhaps.

(This, too, is a source of guilt for you. It feels like you’ve ripped the bandage off a still-healing wound and fucked up old healing, old progress. If you’re lucky, there will be more good than harm done here, but you haven’t had much of that lately…)

Even that hacker your boss hates – Seven. Or Luciel? See, there’s another sign that you shouldn’t know any of this, that doesn’t seem like a name that was meant for you to know – is, well, hard to dislike. A cosplay enthusiast, apparently, though you haven’t been able to look at any of the pictures he’s posted for more than a second – the boss gets huffy and scrolls past those whenever they come up. Overworked by his job, which sounds… interesting, and possibly nightmarish. And it’s not like you can fault him for finding humor in odd situations. You’d be a terrible hypocrite if you did. Affectionate, too, though he seems to have a terrible penchant for teasing poor Yoosung. You can tell – or you think you can tell – that there’s an abundance of fondness beneath all that, though.

And you still know jack shit about that photographer. Mr. Mystery, off on business trips and away from the messenger most of the time.

It’s probably for the best. You’re not sure your boss could handle it if V was there as often as Seven. He’s sullen enough already.

But he’s been – otherwise pretty relaxed. Very certain that all his plans will go well. In fact, as the days go on, there’s a shift in how he responds to Seven’s appearances – he still mutters darkly when the other hacker joins the chatrooms, even more than before, but he… recovers quicker. Although given how he’s now taken to murmuring about how ‘that traitor will finally be dealt with’ and ‘everyone will see his true nature,’ it’s clear what caused the change.

If he had any doubts as to the chances of success before, they’re gone now.

This certainty also seems to be the drive behind those smug, creepy emails – invitations to paradise.

It seems – well – a little like tossing up a flare to illuminate a trail of breadcrumbs that might otherwise go unnoticed, but you don’t try to dissuade him; if this gets the RFA to catch on to the real reason why all this is happening, then maybe they’ll be more prepared for whatever’s planned for them.

Instead, you kept your comments light, complimentary. You didn’t struggle to find something to say, though; they actually did look pretty damn nice, even if the method of delivery was creepy.

…he could have a pretty decent career in graphic design ahead of him. Well – design in general, you suppose.

He was smug when you pointed out how nice the invitations looked for having been nothing more than a rough mock-up just that morning, and all the more when he said that wasn’t exactly his first foray at designing.

“What,” you’d asked, “have you made… invitations to paradise before?”

He’d laughed softly, the smile on his face looking rather indulgent as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You’ve gotten pretty good at twisting to face him while sitting in his lap, and he’s gotten pretty good at holding you even as you shift around.

“No. At least, not like this. Any other guesses? You’ve seen it before. Often, even,” he’d teased, and you huffed at his tone.

“Not if you’re gonna be like that,” you muttered. You could feel yourself growing sulky as he continued to aim that satisfied look at you, but you couldn’t help it.

“Oh, don’t pout.” He’d chuckled and traced your lower lip with his thumb. “Even if it does look good on you.”

And, well. You were even more powerless against the heat that overtook your face.

He’d taken hold of your wrist to guide your hand up his arm to rest at his bicep, and – oh, of course. His tattoo.

“–wait, you designed this?”

He’d twisted a bit to allow you a better view, and you traced over the eye on his upper arm and the embellishments that scrolled further down.

Three guesses as to why that eye is there. Still, even with… obvious cult connections… it’s a solid design. “That’s pretty impressive, boss,” you’d said. And he wears it well, though you’ll be damned if you’ll admit that to him.

Even still, he’d preened all night afterwards – and his smugness only intensified when, in an attempt to distract him from the sullen hissy-fit you could sense coming after reading through an especially Seven-heavy chat, you’d asked if he was planning a design for you now that you’re here.

He’d perked up immediately. “Do I also get to decide where it goes?” His hands uncinched from your waist and moved to your hips, but you wriggled to displace him.

“Ah-ah-ah, boss, I wanna see some designs before you start scoping out where to put it; make sure I get some bang for my buck.” And then you’d shrugged languidly. “If you’re an expert at this, as you say, it shouldn’t take long, right? But it’s gotta be something I like, you hear me? Don’t go thinking I’ll let you stick me with just anything.” And then – well, it was probably a bad idea, but you couldn’t resist teasing, “And if I am satisfied with the design, well… you’re the artist, and it’s only right that you get to pick where to unveil your masterpiece.”

There was a dangerous glint in his eye at the challenge, but he was pleasantly content the rest of the night.

Really, you think you’ve gotten pretty damn great at getting him to simmer down, these last few days in particular.

…that’s something else you’ve been getting used to – how casual it’s gotten with him. Comfortable, if you don’t think about it. And that, more than anything else, is the habit you will have to break yourself of.

All the spying is intensely, emphatically invasive, a blot of creepiness in the midst of what you would like to think is an otherwise-unblemished record of non-creepy behavior, but there’s no chance of continuing this line of voyeurism if you ever get out of this place. No, this is situational-dependant assholery, and you would gladly wash your hands of it now if given the opportunity.

But it’s different with him. If you get attached, there won’t be any getting out of here. There won’t be an end to the surveillance, there won’t be an end to this ‘party’ he’s planning – you’ll just stay here. Forever, maybe.

And you can’t .

But goddamn if it doesn’t start to feel cheap just… doing what you can to learn more about this place, doing what you can to endear yourself to him, maybe get him on your side. Oddly like betrayal.

But it’s not your fault you were kidnapped. There’s nothing nefarious about what you’re doing to slow him down.

Yeah, the measures you’re having to take to avoid suspicion definitely strip your efforts to help out the RFA of any noble nature your plans might have had, but it’s sure as hell better than just passively watching, and way better than being the person who plans this whole kidnapping scheme in the first place.

…and still, it bothers you.

You can’t exactly say he’s been sweet to you, given how you got here, but it’s… close. Divorced from the context, very sweet, at times; you feel like you can carry actual conversations with him now without running into constant noncommittal non-answers from him, and he’s actually been trying to be funny, to go along with you when you make flippant suggestions and observations.

…you think that’s intentional, anyway. You don’t have a perfect grasp of why he does the things he does.

And the thought comes to you, unbidden, and lingers: he’ll be crushed if he finds out you’ve been using him this whole time – though he’s been using you for his plans.

But it’s all you can do.

So you… keep your eyes open. Try to learn as much as you can. And try not to think about what will happen if – when – you get out of here.

And it works somewhat decently.

Most of what you’re picking up outside of the chatrooms is of dubious use.

You learn that there are designations for some of the Mint Eye members. He does not have one; he is… special. You don’t know if you’re expected to get one, or if you, too, would somehow be special.

You learn that he does sleep, sometimes, and yes, in the bed in the little room nearby] And yes, you have woken up to an arm thrown over you, though only once. (And that is an unnecessary complication to an already-fraught situation. You suppose you’re lucky it was only the one time; with how rapidly your pulse had spiked at the realization of how close he was and the fact that your heart-rate only slowed after you managed to squirm carefully out from his grasp to avoid waking him, it would be better for your health to not have a repeat of the incident.)

Twice more, you’ve woken to the sight of him curled up tight underneath the covers, knees practically to his chest. By the time you made your way to the kitchens and back with breakfast he was awake – except the last time.

You can’t say it was particularly thrilling to just sit and wait for him to wake up, but it might do the circles beneath his eyes some good to get some rest.

“…should I start expecting breakfast in bed from now on?” he’d asked blearily, blinking at the oatmeal you’d set on the sheets beside him, banking on the hope that he wouldn’t knock it over when rising.

“Maybe if you care of yourself and get as much sleep as you’re supposed to, I’ll actually catch you in bed for once and have a chance to do this again.”

“I don’t need much sleep,” he’d protested, betrayed by the way he was rubbing at his eyes and frowning sleepily.

You’d shrugged at him from your position on the edge of the bed on the farther side from him, your own oatmeal in hand. “You can’t exactly get breakfast in bed if you’re not in bed, can you?”

He’d frowned more at that, but didn’t protest. This did not mean that the disagreement in semantics was over, however. In fact, you learned something else of interest from an offhand comment he made later that day after being reminded of your differing opinions on his sleeping habits, something you almost missed – said that if he really needed sleep, he wouldn’t be sleeping there , anyway.

Because that little room is not, in fact, his bedroom – or, rather, while the room is his to use as he pleases, and while he has chosen to use it as somewhere to go for brief moments of respite, he has an actual bedroom.

“For when I’m not as busy with the work that needs doing,” he’d explained. “As it is, there’s too much at stake to waste time on needless sleep.”

“Can’t imagine that gets much use then.” But – how long has he been focusing on ‘work that needs doing’ that he had found it necessary to have that nearby room all done up for him, even before you came here to help ? And how big is this place that it can allow that? Or, maybe, how important is he that he gets special treatment like that even if Mint Eye wouldn’t normally have so much extra space to toss around?

“Mmm. It doesn’t. But I can show you where it is when everything is in its place.”

You’d squinted suspiciously at him. “…I hope you don’t expect me to be making any late-night visits there, boss.”

He’d laughed. “So you can find me when you get your own, more permanent accommodations. …I’ll rest more when there’s time for it. Satisfied?”

“That’s just step one in what’s seeming like a long list of ‘ways you need to treat yourself better,’ but it’s a start, so… yes.]. But wait – I get a room? …my own room?” Is there space for that for everyone in paradise, or is this another perk of special treatment?

“Are you that eager to sleep somewhere else?” And you thought he was teasing there, but… the hint of a frown and a sudden wounded earnestness to his expression made you reevaluate that assessment.

Oh no. You made a sudden switch to appeasement. “Oh, no, boss, I’m just curious, that’s all. Have you ever heard me complain? I’m sure I’ll still be coming by to get on your case about sleeping even if our rooms are apart. Maybe that’ll be the start of that breakfast in bed habit, huh?”

He had nodded, seeming more content. …not for the first time, you wondered whether endearing yourself to him might be working a bit too well.

You are still frustratingly clueless about far too many things, and still don’t have a plan of action – no solid ideas on how to help beyond delaying him, no ideas for escape beyond making a dash for a random hallway and hoping for the best.

Still, you get the chance to ask him something else that’s been on your mind over – dinner? Late lunch?

You’ve been up for a while, and it’s the first and only meal of the day that you’ve actually taken the trouble to pause your work and focus on, so it seems like dinner.

Rice porridge with vegetables, for the both of you. Pretty decent rice porridge, though. You suppose they can’t really spring for anything elaborate when they��re feeding so many mouths.

You had to drag over boxes of files to act as makeshift seats and a table. Neither of you are using his chair after you protested that it was far too messy for you both to sit there and eat, and it’s just plain unfair for only one of you to take the chair. He suggested rock-paper-scissors to decide it, and when your eyes widened, he’d laughed and, even more surprisingly, agreed with your assessment and helped dragged over a box to sit on.

“So,” you say, waving your spoon in the air, “there’s definitely chefs here.” That nervous girl you startled days ago has to be one, at least. “Or… a chef? Is it just the one?”

“We have chefs,” he confirms. “Multiple. Not many, but more than one.”

“Right, okay, that makes sense. Where do you get the ingredients for that? Is someone assigned to getting groceries, or do you outsource that? Can you outsource that? Seems like someone making deliveries might take too much of an interest in us…”

“You can’t order take-out, if that’s what you’re wondering. Why so curious?”

“I just…” You shrug, and take another spoonful as you mull over how to explain it. “There seems to be a lot of people, or… more than just a few, and we’re planning to bring more, so what do they do ? ”

“What’s best.” You stare at him. He smirks, and somehow manages to make his next bite of porridge look smug. “…but everyone here is in paradise. They do what they are best suited to and help to bring others to happiness as well.”

“Uh…huh, so… the RFA will all have… roles to fill when they arrive that’ll they’ll be happy with and that will… support paradise?”

“Mmh.” Another spoonful. This may be the most you’ve ever seen him eat at once, and it still isn’t much. No wonder he’s so skinny. Might be malnourished, if the eating habits you’ve observed aren’t a new thing, unless he’s sneaking vitamins when you’re not looking. …well, it’s possible; he does leave for brief periods in the mornings, all those times he comes back seeming markedly more bright-eyed than when he left.

“…what was my role going to be? If I had – gone in. Not tried to back out of the apartment.”

“That’s decided by the savior. Whatever it was doesn’t matter now; you work with me.” He tilts his head, and regards you over the rim of his bowl. “…I like this role for you.”

“I–” You have to glance away, finding his gaze a touch too… meaningful. “–like this role for me, too.” But you’re not aiming for compliments here.

You mull over this new information. You… doubt that they’d be truly content with anything they could be given here, if only because you’ve yet to meet anyone with an actual name here, which does not bode well for how happy everyone already in paradise is.

The savior does as she pleases, and he does as the savior pleases but seems content to do so. Is that how it goes for the others?

But then, if not, why stay? What keeps so many people here? You are watched, and you have your own self-assigned duties to take care of before you can focus solely on getting out. But would they consider themselves happy? How did they come to be here, if not – and especially if they do, what brought them to the point that a functional cult seemed to provide the answers they lacked?

…it casts aspersions on him , too. What brought him here? Did he have a hand in the creation of this paradise, or did he find himself in a position of power, relative as it is, after the fact? He certainly thinks of himself as happy here, but…

And then you draw in a slow breath. That’s a thought for later. For now, you have to play along. So you ask, “What’s the rest of the RFA going to do?”

His answer is a touch mumbled by the bite he takes just as you ask. “As I said, the savior decides.”

“Right, right, of course. …but don’t you have any ideas? Suggestions, even, for some of them.” Something to give you a clue on how they’re viewed. How truly he buys into the vision of paradise, maybe.

He casts his eyes up to the ceiling. “…Zen might still perform,” he says at last. “We’ve got a stage.”

The next bite nearly misses your mouth as you lean forward in surprise. “We do ? ”

“Of course. I’ll give you the grand tour when we’ve finished preparing for the party.”

You give a low whistle in lieu of responding; as is usually the case, thinking about the possibility that you’ll actually get to that point and fail to help them or yourself is… an unpleasant prospect.

“Mmm, then how about… Jaehee? –oh, she’s not going to take my job, is she?” You splay a hand across your chest in mock-concern.

He gives an emphatic shake of his head. “No.”

“Oh, good, nice to have some job security. Let’s see, Jumin… has business savvy? That translates into something, right? Paradise still has business?”

He smirks. “Are you thinking he’ll budget for those grocery trips you’re so concerned about?”

“Well I wasn’t but I am now and absolutely he should do that.” There’s still a knot of guilt in your stomach – you shouldn’t be speaking so lightly about the roles that might be assigned to people targeted for kidnapped. But it’s so easy to laugh along with him, particularly with how pleased he seems to be with successfully amusing you.

He’s still scraping his bowl for the dregs of his dinner when you set your own bowl down on the table-box, finished. “You about done, boss? I guess we should take these back to the kitchen… Oh – I think there’s some wrappers left around the desk, hold on…”

You hop up from the box and make your way to the monitors, beginning to root around for any trash you may have missed earlier. “Can’t for the life of me think what Yoosung will do with his skills that’ll make him happy.” And then you shake your head. “Well, not something that translates well to, ah, running paradise, but I don’t mean to disparage the kid. What’s his major again? If he’s retained enough from classes, maybe that’ll decide it.”

“Veterinary science,” he says.

“No shit?” You hear him laugh behind you. “Huh. Well, I guess that could qualify him for… something. Let’s get a cat as a mascot, then he can take care of it, yeah?”

“You think that the most fitting path for him, the path our savior deems to be what he has been lacking all his life, is as a petsitter ?” You feel a measure of pride at hearing amusement in his voice, even if there’s probably some disbelief in it, too.

“Hey, I’m sure I could come up with something better if given the time, but c'mon, boss, we’re all about happiness, and what could be happier than cats?” And they’re a much better avenue of conversation than his plans.

“If that’s all you have in mind for him, wouldn’t you think the cat-lover would be a better fit?”

“Mmm, you’re right.” He hums a smug little note. “Back to square one for Yoosung. And… you’re already the resident hacker, that’d be too redundant, so I dunno, maybe Seven can–” And then you remember and you snap out of your joking tone. Right. Dangerous territory, too casual. Bad place to stray on autopilot. When you turn back, he’s gripping his bowl with white-knuckled hands.

“That traitor…” He has to draw in a breath to temper the venom in his voice, though it still shakes. “Has no place in paradise.” Oh, god, he does not look happy.

“No, of course not, I–” What to say, what to say? You can fix this, right?

You set the assortment of trash you were holding down on the desk and take tentative steps forward.

“We don’t need him,” he whispers, words sharp and brittle. “He doesn’t deserve the happiness of paradise.”

Another step. Back at the boxes now. He doesn’t seem to be upset by you drawing nearer, just by, well – thoughts of Seven.

He looks you in the eye as you take another step. Voice softer now, wavering but still bearing that sharp edge, he says, “The savior is so kind. She takes care of lost souls, brings them the happiness that’s been denied to them. Even the ones that he … ” His voice is hateful. “That he’s led astray. Lied to.”

His hands shake. You can see his fingers clench tighter around the bowl he’s holding. “We can still save them. We can make them get better. Heal them from the delusions he fed them. But he doesn’t deserve that kindness. He betrayed them all, he betrayed me–”

You’re still meeting his gaze, but his eyes are unfocused now, and he draws in a breath that sounds like a gasp. Like a sob. “He’s a liar, a filthy traitor, and–!”

You hesitate, and then, with movements shaky from trepidation, place your hands over his and try to ease his fingers away from the bowl. There’s a moment of rigid unwillingness, and then he releases it to you. Without turning away, you settle down onto the box-table and set the bowl beside you, then reach for his hands again.

“I–” You wait, but he doesn’t continue, just… stares at your hands, holding his.

“I’m…” Slowly, he raises his head. The focus is back, but his eyes are drained of the rage you’d seen there only moments before, and he just looks fragile.

He stares at you for a long moment, and then – pitches forwards, into you.

You draw in a sharp breath of surprise, and he wraps his arms around you. You freeze, then slowly return the embrace.

His fingers clench tightly into the fabric of your shirt and his breath comes out in little stuttery puffs against your collarbone. You raise a hand so that you can stroke his hair. He shudders, and his fingers tighten enough that you can feel his nails through your shirt, not painfully, but… there.

Cautiously, you begin to comb your fingers through his hair, and his breathing evens out in half-measures until he’s no longer trembling and his arms relax around you.

After a long moment, he pulls back, and you still your movements.

“I’m better than him,” he says at last, softly, pleadingly. He looks up at you, sad eyes staring into yours.

Your breath catches, momentarily at a loss for words. Given who he is, it’s – absurd to want to comfort him beyond what will keep you safe.

But you do .

He looks hurt and vulnerable, and you want to soothe him until the pain eases from his face and he no longer seems like a string pulled too taut, too close to fraying through.

“I’m sure you are, boss,” you say. “…you’re better to me.”

The relief that spills across his face makes your heart ache, and he leans into you, pressing his cheek to your chest as he wraps his arms around you again.

You fiddle with the ends of his hair, just to see if that’s what he’s after, if that would comfort him again, and he nuzzles into you.

You don’t get much else done that night, just… steady him.

The next morning brings still more surprises, as you find yourself taking a walk with him in what is rapidly becoming… a really nice-looking part of the complex.

There are actual windows here. And sunlight. Why does he have a workspace down in the dark, again?

It was a fairly sudden development – he’d popped out for a little while, as has become normal, but when he came back, he brought new information, and informed you of the change in plans. Apparently, he’s going off to work on a security system, and you are… not. No, you’ve got… a visit to make.

With the savior.

“Fill me in, boss. What kind of security system needs you to work on it in-person?” You’re keeping pace with him, which is a little surprising, given how much time you’re spending just looking around, trying to take in new sights as they fall out of view.

“Mmm, I don’t need to work on it quite that close, but I’d prefer to be there to maintain a strong connection with it, and monitor it.” His lips quirk up. “For luck, I suppose. It's…sensitive.”

“Sensitive enough that you don’t want me there to distract you?”

He actually stops so he can look at you, and you stumble a step in your haste to stop as suddenly. You think for a moment that something else has caught his attention, but there’s just a long stretch of hallway before you and no one else around, so you meet his gaze.

There’s something soft in his expression. “I’d gladly bring you along,” he says, and he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering against your skin before he pulls away. “…but the savior would like to spend time with you.” And then, softer, “and this way, we don’t have to be apart any longer than necessary.”

Despite yourself, you can feel your face heat up. “…well boss, I’m flattered.”

His smile grows fonder. He begins walking again, and you follow in step. “But yes,” he says, “it is delicate.”

“How delicate?”

“Well, it’s a bomb, so… delicate enough.” He chuckles, but you’re already alarmed.

“A bomb ?” Your steps falter, and you trip over yourself to keep pace with him again. “I – I – I didn’t think we were gonna blow people up , I thought we were bringing them here, I –”

“Shhh.” He stops again, pressing a finger to your lips. “We are bringing them here. The bomb is just a… precaution. A deterrent, if you will. No one will get hurt. This will make sure of it. You understand?”

He waits until you nod weakly to take his finger away. “Good. Now… we’re just about there.”

He takes your hand to lead you now. If you are near, the hand-holding definitely isn’t necessary, but… it feels anchoring, somehow. Even if he’s the reason why you’re in need of anchoring in the first place.

But – wow. As soon as you round the corner you can see why the savior has chosen this place to meet, and you’re in awe even before you step out the glass doors and into the most magnificent garden you have ever seen.

“Oh… my god,” you murmur. It’s unreal how beautiful this is – more colors than you’ve ever seen in one place, the intermingling fragrances of the blossoms heady enough that you think you might grow dizzy if you stay too long.

Together, the pair of you wind through brick pathways that meander past bushes heavy with deeply blooming flowers. Roses seem to be a particular favorite here, blooming in a myriad of different colors and varieties.

You reach to brush your fingers against some petals as you pass, and you could swear their scent lingers on you even from that brief touch.

And then, there she is.

There is a trellis of bright-blooming wisteria above the point where the pathway widens to a circular area, and this is where the savior is seated at a table, delicately sipping tea. There is an empty seat just across from her, where you assume you are meant to sit, in time.

Her attire is not so elaborate today, though she is no less elegant – no less imposing – in her sundress than she is in her formal robes. She makes a fitting picture, framed against the flowers.

“My savior.” His voice is a low, reverent murmur, and he presses a hand to his chest.

She nods in response, and even this simple motion seems graceful coming from her.

“How wonderful to see you both. I trust the morning finds you well?” she asks.

“Very well, savior,” he says, and you echo him in a quiet, hesitant murmur. Her eyes wander from him to you, and you feel rooted to the spot.

“You know what you are to do?” she asks – addressing him, you’re sure, but still looking at you.

He doesn’t seem to notice, or at least, if he does, he makes no indication of it. “I do. I am eager to perform the work ahead of me. Soon their defenses will be down and we will be one step closer to bringing them to salvation.”

“Wonderful. I have every confidence in you,” she says warmly, and he practically beams at these words – though he does then glance over at you, and she does not miss this. A gentle smile graces her face. “They will be safe with me,” she says softly, and he ducks his head a little.

“Of course,” he says. “There is nowhere safer.”

“Return to us soon,” she says.

“For eternal paradise,” he murmurs, and does that little almost-bow again. You find yourself released from his grasp, though his fingers linger against your palm as if reluctant to pull away, but then he nods and steps back, breaking the contact. You are a little regretful of the loss.

You meet his eye before he turns away to leave and see the faintest hint of a smile cross his face, and then he is gone.

And it’s just you and her.

For a moment, you stand in place, unsure what to do, but she beckons you nearer with a wave of her hand. “Oh, don’t be shy, come and sit,” she says.

You do, but you’re sure she can see stiffness in your movements when you pull out the chair and take a seat.

“Are you nervous?” she asks. You twist your fingers together, trying to will yourself to appear relaxed. She laughs before you have a chance to speak, a high, sweet sound, and says, “There’s no need for that.”

The hell there isn’t. But you nod as if merely bashful.

“How are you settling into our paradise?”

Her gaze remains on you, curious but intense, and you nod slowly. “Well enough, I think. I'm… no longer getting lost. And I think I’m used to the routine enough that I’ve been far more helpful.” Unfortunately.

She hums a contented note. “It’s regretful that you have found yourself among us at such a busy time; there is much that you have yet to see, and much that I know you would delight in, but you have not been afforded the time to do so. Your diligence is greatly appreciated – indeed, the work you are doing is invaluable – but it’s a shame we’ve had to delay so much of your experience.”

“I’m just… happy to help,” you say lamely.

She takes a sip of tea, but when she sets her cup down, she shakes her head. “Forgive me.” Her voice is wry. “I have not had guests in some time, and it appears I have been so distracted by your presence that I forgot myself. Tea?”

“Oh… thank you, but that’s not necessary,” you begin, but she’s already rising and skirting around the table.

When she pauses at your side, she considers you for a moment, examining you. “These new clothes suit you,” she says at last. “He seemed pleased with the chance to provide you with these at last, and I can see why.”

She reaches for the teapot at the center of the table, and as she begins to fill your cup, you are suddenly grateful that you chose an outfit with more modest pieces. Floral and lacy; maybe she’s a fan of that, too.

She is… close. Very close. When she pours the tea, her arm brushes yours repeatedly, and you catch a hint of her perfume. You can’t tell exactly what it is – there’s vanilla there, you think? And something else, something sweet but not overmuch. Peach? Or… maybe not. Either way, its rich and almost… creamy in how smooth and sweet it is. It’s heady, like the intermingling floral scents in the garden pathways, but doesn’t seem at odds with it.

You find yourself watching her instead of the tea, and so you can’t pretend you weren’t staring when her eyes skirt to you.

“You know,” she says, tone light, “most would consider this an honor.”

Ah. Right. She is the savior, after all. You hasten to think of something to say, a sufficient apology for your oversight, but she laughs as she sets the teapot down.

“Don’t worry,” she says, and she runs a hand through your hair. Her touch is light, delicate, and she combs through the strands with gentle purpose. “You don’t have to trouble yourself. It would be unkind to offer and then demand thanks, hmm?”

She works her way through your hair until her hand comes to rest at your neck and lingers, fingers toying with the wispy strands of hair there as she says, “your initiation is soon, and the party will follow close behind, and you will have time to rest at last. Are you frightened?”

And even if you lied, you think she might be able to feel how your pulse sped up at her words, so you give a slow nod.

She hums a note. “Yes, it’s daunting to think how close you are to such perfect happiness at last, isn’t it? An end to the misery that has plagued you… It’s natural to hesitate before this possibility when it has long been denied you. But we will be here to guide you every step of the way. You need not fear faltering.” Her nails scrape gently against your skin, almost soothingly if not for, well – your general discomfort. “I’m sure you will be perfectly at ease here even when your duties with the party are fulfilled. And I look forward to getting to know you in the days to come. Perhaps you will find your happiness through working closely together.”

She angles her head, and the sunlight catches in her hair, enhancing the halo effect of it. So bright, and still you shiver.

She pulls away after smoothing down your hair one last time, and returns to her seat.

You focus on the tea in front of you so you can at least pretend that her gaze isn’t fixed on you. It’s – a very lovely shade of amber but your nerves are so high that you can’t register the taste of it in your mouth.

And for a while, you both just sit in silence, drinking tea. She seems to find more comfort in the quiet than you do, looking perfectly relaxed.

When you’ve drained your second cup of tea, she speaks up.

“You know,” she says, “you do look even lovelier in the light,” she says. “Perhaps you would care to take a walk through the gardens with me? Take in some of the sunlight.”

And what are you to do but say yes?

She guides you to the path opposite the one you came from, pace slow and leisurely, perfect for taking it all in, if only you could dispel some of this nervousness and focus on the sights to see.

“Look,” she says, indicating roses a shade of rich blue. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She traces over the outer petals, then runs her fingers down the stem to rest over a thumb. “Guarded, but beautiful.”

“How do you get them to grow in that color?” you ask.

“Patience,” she says, and nods in a way that you assume means it’s time to move on, “and nurturing.”

She makes little comments as you continue, pointing out particularly lovely or unusual blooms – enough to keep the bubbles of silence down to only a few moments, but not enough to truly occupy your thoughts.

There’s too much to worry about – bombs and plans and parties – and they plague you too much not to think of them, and finally you blurt, “Why is he so affected by that hacker?”

You don’t bother clarifying. You’re not sure you should have even risked it in the first place.

She tilts her head. “Why do you ask me and not him? Or… do you ask what he has already said he will not answer?” Her tone barely changes, if at all, but suddenly you feel laid bare, placed before the glare of a spotlight.

You fumble with your words. “I don’t – want to upset him. Of course. But I don’t always know what to ask, I don’t always know what’s going to upset him, except… that. The other hacker. That always upsets him. And…” You offer a nervous smile and twist your fingers together, feigning interest in the new blooms you pass – violets? – in the hopes that this will at least build the illusion of confidence. “We have – the endless party to prepare for, and I’d like to do my part as best I can. I don’t want to be ignorant of anything that might be important to know for that, but I… don’t want to strain him by forcing him to confront what’s obviously upsetting him.”

“Mmm… yes, Saeran can be… temperamental. Not without reason, but…” She pauses to examine a large orange rose, dipping her fingers into the petals. “I imagine he may well become… emotional, if pressed on this.”

There is, at first, only relief that she hasn’t found your explanation worthy of further inquiry, but then her words hit you, and your next breath stutters in your throat.

“ Saeran? ”

She gives you a look of mild surprise, turning away from the blossom to regard you. “You didn’t know?” And then she inclines her head. “I suppose it isn’t too surprising. He is… not fond of his name.” Her expression is sorrowful, if still prettily composed.

“I… see.” You don’t know what else to say. “No, he didn’t tell me.”

“Mmm, it might be best to remain calling him… whatever you used before, then. If he hadn’t told you already…” She trails off meaningfully.

“Of course,” you say. It feels – ill-gained. You don’t know if he ever planned to tell you, or if you would have learned this eventually, but now you have a name to put to him besides just boss and that’s – well – not something you were expecting.

“Perhaps you can ask him about this, and about the intensity of his feelings regarding the hacker.” She rests her chin on the back of her hand. “But… after the party?” It’s phrased like it’s a question, though you know it’s not.

“…of course, my savior.” So you won’t get an answer to this question, much as the curiosity burns at you. “But then, if he – if… Saeran… hates the hacker so much, why focus on the RFA?” Connections? Influence? Jumin is the son of a business magnate, probably worth an absurd amount of money – but the rest of them?

“They are… particularly wounded.” She releases the bloom,and a petal comes with it. She clicks her tongue, rolling the petal between her fingers. “Lost. If we don’t help them now, I fear that they may remain tangled in doubts forever.” She pinches the petal tightly suddenly, and when she lets it go, it falls crushed from her fingers.

That's… an answer that doesn’t manage to answer anything. You hesitate, then ask the question at the heart of everything.

“Why do you do this?” The frustration you feel bleeds into your voice, and you continue in the hopes that this will amend that. “You… care for people. Heal hurt. You go to such lengths to find lost people – why ?”

And she laughs.

You’ve never heard someone with a bell-like voice until you met her. Clear and bright and musical – and distant. “My dear, what else would I do?” She reaches to place a hand at your face, thumb ar your jaw and fingers splayed against your cheek. “If you see someone in need, don’t you ache to do something?” She brushes against your cheekbone in a motion that is probably meant to be comforting. “Have you not wished desperately for a guiding hand when you were lost?”

There is amusement in her gaze – even, perhaps, affection – which you suppose you should be grateful for. Seems safer than the alternative. But you don’t want to be coddled. Not here, not like this.

“…yes,” you say at last. “I understand.”

Her smile is warm. “I’m glad. But I am always here to help if you have any more questions. [We wouldn’t want you to feel lost in paradises.”

“Thank you for your kindness, my savior.” Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest.

“Now,” she says, “have you anything else to ask, or would you care to see more of the gardens?”

And you can’t imagine you’ll get a satisfying answer to any of the other questions that plague you – why me, why a bomb, why, why, why? – and so you nod.

When he returns, he finds you still winding through the gardens, by a wall of swaying sunflowers this time, and your breath catches as he comes into view.

“It is done, my savior.” You wonder idly if you should have been making those half-bows like he does this whole time, but you can’t focus long enough on this thought to care.

He has a name .

Saeran . Not your nameless boss.

It makes him – not more real, exactly, because you’re not sure you’ve fully processed it, but it definitely changes something .

You just… don’t know how much yet.

And you have, it seems, missed out on some of his report, because when you snap back into focus, he’s already begun to explain how it went.

“–notice a thing, and went off without a single hiccup. By the time they realize anything has changed, it will be too late; they’ll have no chance to counter the security system, and the extraction will be unexpected and seamless.”

At some point, he’d come closer, and she places one hand on his shoulder. “Very good,” she praises, “I would expect nothing less from you. And the connection is still stable from here?”

He nods, and she gives him a warm smile.

And now she steps back and he comes to stand beside you.

The savior clasps her hands together. “Now, much as I cherish the time I am able to spend with you, there is work to be done.”

What does she do when she’s not instructing him, or… examining you? But, this is a clear dismissal. You incline your head when he does, this time.

And that’s that.

You start off in silence through garden pathways that you’ve already grown sick of. Almost immediately, his hand brushes against yours once, twice, three times, and you glance over at him. Has he been made shy by the savior’s compliments? He had no trouble taking your hand earlier. You flex your fingers against his, and this seems to give him the go-ahead to lace your fingers with his.

You’re still radiating nervous energy. “I'm… glad it went well,” you say. Better to talk than be left in silence with tumultuous thoughts. “And that you’re back.”

He hums a contented note. “I’ll show you the new feed when we return. And…” he says, “the savior seems pleased with you. Maybe… we could spend time together like this soon.”

You force yourself to smile, and his hand tightens around yours.

You and Saeran and the savior. What a picture that would make.

[radishface]

Scientific Methods | Chapter 1: Observation

Author’s Notes: My first attempt at P101 and the beauty that is OngNiel.

Summary: OngNiel is Science. But can it prove what’s real?

You like watching Daniel practice.

There’s nothing wrong with the way others practice. But the way Daniel does it is earnest. Honest. Just him and himself, 100%.

You feel like sometimes you’ll pop yourself into a million pieces when you dance. But Daniel dances in a way that feels like one integrated movement. The way Daniel moves is natural. No artificial flavoring, no winks, no gimmicks. It’s just him.

The real thing. In the entertainment industry, a real thing is a rare sight.

Part of you warns yourself that you have other things to worry about. And some true part of you murmurs appraisingly, this may be an object worthy of investigation. So you watch him practice. And you grow curious and curiouser still.

________________________

It’s the second month. You’ve been watching Daniel for a while. You’ve even become friends. Of course it started when you did something to make everyone laugh. You can’t remember what it was, but it was probably something hilarious. All you remember is the look on Daniel’s face when he laughed. Daniel is a happy guy—one doesn’t find him without a grin plastered on his face most of the time—but when he laughs in earnest? Oh god. It’s just, well. You know.

So back to that time. You cracked a joke, Daniel laughed from across the room, and your heart froze and re-started again with painful clarity. You were halfway aware that your joke had stopped halfway through, that your face has gone slack, that your mouth is open, and that this sudden interruption in your regular programming is just making everyone laugh harder.

They think it’s part of the gag. Nope. This is the Real Thing.

Daniel laughs, looks around the room with that disbelieving, beatific wide-toothed grin, that *can you believe it* incredulity crammed in a charmingly downcast squint, and he’s looking at you and his joy is radiating around the room from under that ridiculous pink hair.

Wow.

Okay. Regroup. You don’t want to overthink this. It’s obviously a real thing. Daniel, with his pink hair that would never work on you in a million years (you’ve tried editing yourself into a pink wig in Photoshop a few months ago on a lark and have never looked back)—Daniel, with his ridiculous bunny toothed-smile that stretches ear to ear—as if. As if this is actually happening.

Falling in love isn’t a straight thing or a gay thing. You can fall in love with an inanimate object as easily as a live one. You know this because once, you had fallen in love with a strawberry macaron when your high school girlfriend took you to a French cafe at the end of your sophomore year to celebrate you getting straight As on your report card. So right now, just hold up, you’re feeling some kind of feeling and you’re excited. A smart and reasonable part of you tells you to wait it out and another part of you tells you that you need to figure this Thing out ASAP.

And as quickly as it came, it goes. The room returns to normal, and you’re not locked into tunnel vision anymore. The volume of the room has come back down to normal and the air has returned to your lungs.

The days go by. You make jokes when Daniel is around. You make jokes at Daniel’s expense. You make a fool of yourself in front of him to see him smile. He likes you and you like him. It’s magic. Ong, he calls you most of the time, and it makes you feel all puffed up when he does. Ongi, he calls you when he likes you more. You can feel yourself hanging off his every move. The way he dances. The way he walks. The way his legs look in his pants. Sometimes it gets a bit stupid, how much you hang off his every move.

But sometimes you can feel him hanging off your every move, and that makes it nice.

Is this the Real Thing?

Him looking at you every now and then makes it all a bit more bearable and unbearable at the same time. For different reasons.

You’re not hoping for too much. It’s a reality TV show. It’s entertainment. It could be Not Real, because things in this world aren’t real. The beautiful things are especially unreal and prone to fluctuation and bouts of flakiness. And all of this might be over at the end of next month. Well, it’s unlikely, but there’s always the off chance that Hyunbin climbs up in the ranks and kicks you down into the thirties. You never know, in these situations.

You’re not hoping for too much. The cameras are in your face and his face and everyone’s face all the time. You’re aware that you’re “on” even when you don’t feel like it. You feel the camera bringing out every side of you even when you don’t want them to. You’re so tired most days. The show must go on, but you’re fucking tired.

It’s the sixth hour into your “Never” practice. You’re outside right now, your back pressed against the glass door as you gulp down another energy drink. You close your eyes and you can still Daniel practicing behind the swirling black of your eyelids. What’s happening to you? It’s the stress. It’s this strange place that exists in between reality and fantasy. You were just a trainee. Now you’re Fantagio’s Ong Seongwoo, a rank-carrying, A-ban, singing, dancing monkey dependent on the will of millions of girls and guys who may or may not be in love with you even though there’s only less than 15 hours of you on the Internet. It’s a really strange world right now and you don’t know how you got caught up in all this anyway.

A hand on your shoulder and your eyes snap open. It’s Daniel. Slightly sweaty. You can smell his soap and sweat. He’s just come out of the “Open Up” practice room, probably taking a break too.

There’s your camera smile and then there’s your real smile. Your real smile is a small one. You feel weak. Your lips tremble. It’s because you’re tired. You’ve slept all of 8 hours in the last three days. You want all of it with a ferocity that only grows with each day that passes. The chance to perform, the possibility of a debut, the photoshoots, the interviews, the variety show circuit, the concerts, the screams for your encore—and—and—you want what you want.

“Ongi,” Daniel says in that soft, husky voice. His hair is blonde now, and looks a lot better even if the pink was cute. His thumb strokes over your collarbone, but you’re not hoping for too much.

The chance to perform. The possibility of a debut. The photoshoots. The interviews. The variety show circuit. The concerts. The screams for your encore. Daniel. The desire grows each day. Today, it’s scaring you.

“You good?”

A million jokes flutter though your brain but you don’t want to. A sudden rebelliousness sets in and more than anything, you just want to tell Daniel that no, you just want to sleep. You want this moment, his hand on your shoulder, anchoring you, pinning you against the mirror, to last forever and at the same time you want this all to be over.

And you’re just, maybe, a little bit, the tiniest bit, ever so slightly furious with him because God help you, you just can’t afford to fall in love right now.

There’s no way the timing is good. Or the optics. It wouldn’t be good for your career and it wouldn’t be good for your ego, either. If you fell in love with Daniel that would make you just another one of the millions of girls who have cast their votes for the King. For the sake of your pride, you really don’t want to be just another one of the millions, and you don’t want your career to suffer, and you don’t want to have to deal with the consequences of, well, what would happen if Daniel actually felt the same way about you.

“It’s okay,” Daniel says, and for a freaky second you actually think he’s read your mind. You blink the tears of frustration out of your eyes, and shoot him a look that’s somewhere between cross and playful.

Daniel’s hand squeezes your shoulder, encouraging. “You’re going to be fine.”

“The king’s word is the law,” you quip, but it comes out heavier than you mean it to. Daniel’s not fazed.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and stands you up. He’s markedly stronger than you, and that fact thrills you to the bone. “Let’s get some water.”

He leads you into one of the vocal practice rooms and closes the door behind you. You fall against the wall, fingernails scraping down the soundproof lining as you sigh and collapse onto the floor.

“You can relax,” Daniel says, and sits down next to you. “No cameras here.”

“No water, either,” you retort.

“I needed to bait you with something,” Daniel laughs.

He’s cute. And he knows it. But all you can muster up is another weak smile. The world of dance and music and everything else feel another galaxy away. All you can hear is the sound of your own breath coming ragged out of your lungs.

“Niel,” you say. Your heart is racing. “I know you were the one who baited me here. But it’s actually me who needs to tell you something.”

“Then I guess I found you at the right time.” Daniel’s voice is soft.

The silence in a soundproof room is the kind that accompanies the end of the world. Your eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness of the practice room, but you can feel Daniel’s body next to yours as strongly and surely as a moth might feel the glow of a light.

“Let’s make a bet,” you say.

“Sure,” says Daniel.

“If your team wins—then I’ll tell you what I need to tell you.“

Daniel *hmms*. “And if your team wins?”

“Then I’ll be going on my way,” you sing-song.

Daniel’s hand find your hand and his lips find your ear and he whispers,

“Get ready to open up, kid.”

You both collapse in peals of laughter, gasping for breath as you try to sit up, only to fall down again. Your head falls into Daniel’s lap and his hand falls on your belly and you’re smiling stupidly at each other, silly with exhaustion and dangerous feeling. That’s how Jonghyun and Dongho find you moments later when they bang on the door.

You jump up and raise your fists and tell them that they have no honor in intruding on such proceedings. You challenge them to a duel at midnight to restore Daniel’s maiden honor.

“We’ll still be practicing at midnight if you insist on running away again,” Jonghyun sighs. “Let’s go, Romeo.”

[megsblackfirewrites]

Anniversary Surprise

Anniversary Surprise

Jack heard the whistle behind him and rolled his eyes. For fuck sakes; he was elbow deep in a car engine, why were the Alphas showing up now? He was busy doing his job, for crying out loud! He let out a sigh as he grabbed his grease rag and cleaned off his hands as he stood up.

“Can I help you?” he asked calmly.

The Alpha grinned at him, brown eyes sparkling as she tossed her hair behind her ear. “Just wonderin’ when the show starts,” she said. “Legs like that were made for….”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jack sighed. “Look, it’s flattering that you find me attractive, but I’m not interested. One, you’re female and two, I have a mate. So, if there’s something you need concerning vehicles, I’m all ears. If you’re just here to harass me over the shape of my ass, the door is that way. Have a nice day.”

The Alpha’s mouth flapped for a moment before she retreated for the door, properly cowed after that horrible display of manners. Jack snorted as he stuffed his hands back into the engine, shooting Jesse a look. The Alpha smirked from the belly of the car he was working on before he rolled out from under it.

“Now I gotta remember that line the next time an Omega is snuggling up against my chest beggin’ me to fuck ‘em,” Jesse laughed.

“People suck,” Jack sighed as he continued working. “If they aren’t hitting on you, they’re insulting you.”

“Maybe you should have your mating mark in full sight,” Jesse shrugged. “It’s how Hanzo keeps everyone from botherin’ him at work.”

“Hanzo works with generally respectful people,” Jack said as he found the source of the blockage and started scrubbing the caked up oil out of the tubing. “Me? I don’t know who’s walking through that door. Someone might just take my mark as a challenge and not respect my boundaries.”

“That’s true,” Jesse sighed as he walked over and peered into the engine. “Who the fuck does this to their car?”

“Someone that didn’t flush the engine properly before switching from synth-oil to vegetable,” Jack grunted. “That axel fixed?”

“Of course,” Jesse nodded as he rolled his head on his neck. “Hmm, how’s Gabe? Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Busy with his new album,” Jack smiled. “He promised to be home tonight though. He never misses our anniversary.”

“I’m so glad his music took off,” Jesse grinned. “Every penny helps.”

“It does,” Jack sighed happily. “We still have his first album on the mantle. I need to get him something for the wall so he can hang it properly.”

“Not this year?” Jesse asked.

“Was thinking more for his birthday,” Jack shook his head. “Our anniversary is about us, not just his accomplishments.”

“Well, I hope you have a great supper and wonderful sex,” Jesse teased as he ruffled Jack’s golden hair. “Too bad neither of you have a knot.”

“Shut up, Jesse,” Jack laughed as he aimed a swat for his friend’s head. “Only Alphas love their knots. Their Omegas are just indulging their egos.”

“I’ll have you know that Hanzo begs for mine,” Jesse pouted as he ducked the swat.

“Only when he’s in heat,” Jack grinned. “Any other time I’m sure he’s telling you not to put that monster in him.”

Jesse pouted even more before huffing and playfully stomping back over to the car he was working on. He slipped back under it to avoid Jack’s laughter. He knew how stupid some Alphas could be over their knots; a lot of Omegas were just as bad for begging for it when they were horny. It was all around just annoying.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Jack finished the car he was working on and advised the owner to flush their engine before making any other oil change to avoid build up again. They thanked him and left a tip when they paid for the work.

Jack arrived home from work shortly after five. The house was quiet and there was a note stuck to the mirror in the entrance hall. He picked it up as he kicked his work boots off, reading it over with a sad smile.

‘Hey, had to run to the studio really fast. Should be home around 5:30. Supper’s still cooking and will be ready for 6. Don’t get into the dessert, you chowhound. Love you.’

Jack crumpled the note up and headed to the kitchen to throw it out. His mouth was watering at the scent of barbeque ribs in the slow cooker. He lifted the lid just to get a more concentrated smell, drooling a little as all of Gabriel’s ingenious spice rub mixture melded perfectly with the savory barbeque sauce. He put the lid back on quickly and headed to the fridge to see what dessert was waiting for him.

A cookie dough lasagna. Gabriel was trying to fatten him up, it would seem. Not that he minded; his weight had always been an issue. He blamed his father for his wild fluctuations; he couldn’t remember a time where his father had ever been more than one hundred and sixty pounds and skinny as a rake. Gabriel had made it his mission to get Jack on a stable diet that didn’t consist of cheap food and supplements. He was proud to say that he was one hundred and fifty pounds for over a month and his weight wasn’t dropping again.

He grabbed a homemade protein bar out of the crisper and closed the fridge door. He headed for the living room, dropping onto the couch as he thought about what he wanted to watch. He flicked through the channels until he found the news and settled down for what new depressing situation was taking hold of the world.

Gabriel arrived home shortly after 5:30. “Sorry, honey,” Gabriel called as he kicked the door shut. “Recording took longer than I thought.”

“That’s fine,” Jack smiled as he got to his feet. “I didn’t waste away from loneliness.”

Gabriel smiled as he walked over and kissed Jack warmly. “Sorry; Ana can be a taskmaster,” he said as he held Jack close. “How was work?”

“Work,” Jack shrugged. “Cars were fixed and Alphas were put in their place.”

“Good,” Gabriel frowned. “I’m so sick of them hitting on you. It’s not even flirting; it’s disgusting pick-up lines as if you’re going to let them fuck them in the backseat of the car!”

“I know,” Jack smiled as he pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s. “Who needs Alphas?”

“Not us,” Gabriel smiled back. “God, that pork smells amazing.”

They walked into the kitchen together just as the phone rang. Gabriel grinned before he went to answer it, bringing the handheld over to the table.

“Hey, Mama,” he called as he put the phone on speaker. “How’re you?”

“Doing just fine, my boy,” Gabriel’s mother replied in Spanish. “How’re my favourite sons?”

“We’re your only sons, Mama,” Jack teased as he sat down beside Gabriel. “And we’re fine.”

“That’s good to hear, Jackie. I was worried. I know you both work so hard and sometimes ends don’t meet. I sent some money to your account, Gabi. Did you get it?”

“I did,” Gabriel shook his head. “I used it to pay off a few bills. Thank you.”

It didn’t matter that Jack and Gabriel made more than enough to get by, Reina Reyes still worried about her youngest child. Jack knew she did the same for all of her children, sending them money whenever the newest royalty cheque rolled in from her time in the most popular Mexican blockbusters of the decade, but always called Gabriel immediately.

“Oh good! What are your plans for the evening?”

“Supper, dessert, and then cuddling on the couch,” Gabriel smiled at Jack.

“And grandbaby-making?” she teased.

“Mother, relax,” Gabriel cackled. “We’re still young!”

“And waiting for another heat to roll around,” Jack agreed.

“You still haven’t had yours yet, Jackie?” Reina asked. Jack could almost hear her frown.

“No,” he admitted. “It should happen soon though. My weight’s stabilized.”

“That’s good,” Reina sighed. “I know heats suck, but they’re healthy.”

“I know, Mama,” Jack soothed. “I’ll let you know when I feel it approaching.”

The timer went off beside the crockpot and Gabriel hurried to turn it off. Jack continued talking with Reina as Gabriel put supper on plates and carried them over. Jack licked his lips at the smell of perfectly cooked pork ribs, cooked vegetables, and wild rice. He thanked his mate and kissed his lips, smiling as Gabriel said his good-byes to Reina and hung up the phone. Gabriel nuzzled him as he rose to put the phone away.

“Oh, can you get something out of the oven?” he asked. “I have to grab something in the living room.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow as he got to his feet. “Okay?” he replied as he headed for the stove.

He opened the oven and stared at the loaf of buns sitting on the top rack. There was a note that said “surprise!” stuck to the top of it. He pulled the package out and frowned at it. Why the Hell would Gabriel put a package of buns in the…?

He let out a gasp and whipped around, grinning at his mate. “Really!?” he demanded.

Gabriel grinned and nodded. “Yup.”

“How far along?” Jack asked as he hurried over and covered Gabriel’s cheeks in kisses.

“Sixteen weeks,” Gabriel said as his eyes teared up. “I have an ultrasound next week to sex the baby.”

Jack felt tears burning his eyes and sniffled. “Holy shit, Gabe,” he whispered. “We’re going to be dads!”

Gabriel nodded and hugged him close. “Good present?” he asked.

“The best!” Jack laughed. “Sort of blows my signed copy of Guns ’N’ Roses’ first album out of the water.”

Gabriel pulled away and stared at him in awe. “You got me a signed copy?” he whispered.

“It was a bitch to find, but yes,” Jack smiled.

“You are amazing,” Gabriel said as he kissed Jack’s face. “I’ll take it after supper. I’m starving and so is Jackie Jr.”

Jack let out an excited squeal. He was going to be a dad! He couldn’t believe it; after years of fertility problems, they were finally going to have their baby! And Gabriel, healthy, strong, successful Gabriel, was going to be carrying their little belly-bean.

“You’re going to be a great mom,” Jack murmured as he held his mate’s hand. “I know it.”

“And you’ll be a fantastic dad,” Gabriel smirked. “Finally, someone else will suffer your horrible puns with me.”

“My puns are ingenious, you ungrateful man,” Jack pouted playfully before he knelt down. He nuzzled his face against Gabriel’s belly and rest his cheek against the tiny swell. “Hello, little one,” he cooed. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

“I’m certain they can’t wait to meet you too,” Gabriel chuckled as he ran his fingers through Jack’s hair. “Finally put a face to the man that rocks them to sleep so well every night.”

Jack let out a snort of laughter before he stood up. He kissed Gabriel deeply, pulling his mate in close. His head was still reeling; they were going to be fathers! In a few months they were going to have a baby in their house. They were going to have a baby!

“Did you tell your mom?” Jack asked as he pulled away.

“I did; she’s good at pretending she doesn’t have a clue,” Gabriel smiled and kissed him. “Mmm, you should call your parents. They’ll be happy to hear this.”

“After supper,” Jack promised as he pulled his mate over to the table and sat down. “We’re going to be dads, Gabe!”

“We are,” Gabriel squirmed happily in his seat. “Finally. And, when they’re old enough, we’ll adopt another little baby.”

“Yes,” Jack sighed in relief as he tore the bone of of his ribs and stuffed the meat into his mouth. “This is amazing, Gabe! You outdid yourself.”

“It is good,” Gabriel agreed as he closed his eyes blissfully. “Fuck, I’m good.”

“You are,” Jack purred as he leaned over to kiss his mate’s cheek. “My darling. My beautiful moonlight. My….”

“Honey,” Gabriel smiled at him. “I get it.”

“I need more nicknames,” Jack sighed as he sat back in his chair. “Or better ones.”

“Jack, you could call me a ‘cocksucking asshole’ and say it with the sweetest smile and I would love it,” Gabriel laughed. “I don’t need a thousand pet names. I just need you.”

Jack felt tears spring to his eyes. “We’ve been mates for years and you still manage to make me get all choked up every single time you say that,” he sniffled.

Gabriel set his fork down and scooted his chair closer. He kissed Jack tenderly, nuzzling against his cheek. Jack wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders, whimpering happily as his mate whispered more sweetness into his ear.

Who needed an Alpha when his Omega mopped the floor with all their macho bullshit?

[playeroneplayertwo]

I Need a Hero (Marvel Champions LCG)

Do we really need another infinitely expandable card game with a comic book superhero theme that can easily be played solo but also plays remarkably well with two?

UM YES OF COURSE.

Marvel Champions: The Card Game (2019) Designed by Michael Boggs, Nate French, and Caleb Grace Art by Marvel Published by Fantasy Flight

I love the idea and format of the living card game. I know this is not always the most popular opinion in the tabletop hobby. Living Card Games tend to be a bit of a lightening rod for criticism, given that they can get expensive if you go “all in,” unless the player is coming from the collectible card game niche of the hobby. In that case, Living Card Games feel comparatively cheap. Being as I played lots of Magic: The Gathering, I’m used to the idea of paying for cards, and it doesn’t bother me. Granted, not everyone feels that way, and I understand, but I want to clear the air now and say that, for me, the release model of this game is not a bad thing. 

Anyway…

Lowdown (How to Play–in a Nutshell)

If you have any experience with a cooperative Living Card Game, either The Lord of the Rings: The Card Game (2011) or Arkham Horror: The Card Game (2016), then the uber-generically titled Marvel Champions (2019) will feel very familiar. The main connecting line that runs through each of these games is Nate French, an in-house designer for Fantasy Flight, so it’s not terribly surprising that there’s a mechanical overlap.

You’ll come to the game with a pre-built deck consisting of cards that belong specifically to a certain hero (the base box includes Black Panther, Spider-Man, She-Hulk, Captain Marvel, and Iron Man), as well a set of cards linked to one specific trait (like Justice or Protection), and then a few all-purpose neutral cards. With this deck, you’ll play cards and act with your hero to foil schemes associated with a villain. Rather than thwarting the villain’s scheme, you can attack the villain instead. On the villain’s turn, they will advance their scheme and then either attack you or scheme some more. Once that’s done, you’ll draw card(s) from the villain’s customized encounter deck and deal with those. 

When you’ve defeated the villain, ie gotten their life down to zero, you win. Being as this is a cooperative game, you’ve got plenty of ways to lose, but if you lose it will most likely be that your own health was driven to zero or the villain was able to complete their scheme.

Tea for Two (Scaling for Two Players)

This game plays up to four, and all aspects of the game relevant to player count scales automatically (including how much life the villain has, how quickly the scheme will advance, and how many cards from the villain’s AI encounter deck are drawn each turn). While it plays up to four players, I’d probably shy away from playing it at the full count because the game would take significantly longer. However, in all honesty, I’ve only played the game solo, but Fantasy Flight’s cooperative LCGs have a great track record with two players in this household, and based on the comprehensive design similarities, I have no reason to think otherwise.

The Never-Ending Story (The Bad Stuff)

Okay, so I’ll be honest here, I probably could have told you the bad stuff prior to playing this game. Now that I’ve played it, I can tell you that the problematic aspects of this design are inherently part of the conscious choices made by the designers. That being said, you’re either going to be bugged by these design choices or not, but they were all intentional.

First of all, Marvel Champions immediately distinguishes itself from both The Lord of the Rings: The Card Game and Arkham Horror: The Card Game by eschewing the campaign system that runs both of those games in favor of a non-campaign, one-off episodic design instead. Rather than experiencing a slowly developing narrative played out over multiple games, you will only ever really experience this game in self-contained, narratively loose skirmishes. I hesitate to even use the word narrative, honestly. If you read the cards, including flavor text, you’ll get an idea of what’s supposed to be happening, but it’s nothing at all like Arkham Horror, the most heavily narrative game of the bunch, or even The Lord of the Rings, a decidedly lighter narrative experience. 

This is not a bad thing for me, and I say that because I feel the campaign system actually keeps both Arkham and Lord of the Rings from hitting my table more frequently. Arkham felt like it relied too much on the narrative (for my taste), while Lord of the Rings’ narrative made me feel guilty to ever play without Kathleen, so often I’d want to play but not want to play without my gaming partner, meaning on the shelf it stayed. Also, because Marvel Champions is not narrative-based, you can skip any small expansion if you’re simply not interested in the hero without having to worry that you’re missing out on the story, making this inherently cheaper than other narrative LCGs. Again, this is very subjective. I’m sure that there are people who would say the narrative aspect of Arkham is what makes it the most rewarding of the lot, but for me if the story stumbled, the whole experience suffered for it (and I wasn’t so keen on a few of the Dunwich Legacy narrative choices).

Next up is the nature of the cooperative LCG. In this case, I don’t mean the release model, but rather the fact that the encounter deck, present here just as it is in both Lord of the Rings and Arkham, can be punishing. Ultimately, the probability of you succeeding is not only based on your strategic decisions in the game, but also on the luck of what is drawn from the encounter deck–and when it is drawn. More often than not, if you draw the deck’s cruelest cards at the worst moment, it will be all but impossible to overcome. You can prepare yourself as best you can, certainly, but sometimes winning is just not in the cards (Great job, Dad joke). Again, this is not a big enough problem to really bother me. I have certainly been frustrated playing Lord of the Rings, and that’s because, of the three, Lord of the Rings is the most punishing, by far. Arkham is second most, and Marvel Champions is actually the least punishing. At the same time, because of the cooperative aspect, I don’t mind the game feeling punitive. That’s the point, no? What’s the point of playing an easy cooperative game?

The only other drawback that someone might immediately raise objection to is actually something I really like. Deck-construction in this game is much simpler than with either Arkham or Lord of the Rings. Those two games are based on simple deck building restrictions revolving around factions, not terribly unlike Magic: The Gathering. Deck-construction in Marvel Champions has more in common with Star Wars: The Card Game. In Star Wars, cards come in blocks (or pods, if you’d prefer a whale metaphor). You choose an objective, most likely for a special ability, and with that objective you’ll also have a set of cards that will begin to build your deck, usually keyed to combo around the objective’s ability. As you select objectives, you’ll get their accompanying cards and slowly construct a deck, meaning decks are based on small, pre-built sets of cards rather than individual cards. It makes the build infinitely simpler.

Deck-construction here is similar. You’ll pick a hero and take a set number of cards as your deck starting set (like your 15 Iron Man cards or what have you). Then you’ll select one of those traits I mentioned earlier (Justice, Leadership, Aggression, or Protection), and add a certain number of cards from that trait. This is the most loosey-goosey bit, but the fact that you cannot combine traits really helps. Then you’ll augment what you’ve got with some neutral cards. Ultimately, your deck is only 40 cards, making it very easy to get a basic deck put together. While I am not a huge fan of tinkering with decks, making this a good thing, I completely understand this being a blemish on the game for those who really live and die for a good build experience.

There Goes My Hero (The Good Stuff)

All those gripes being said, Marvel Champions does plenty of things that I quite like, and that distinguish it from Lord of the Rings and Arkham.

First of all, Marvel is the lightest of the bunch. Along with the superhero theme, it’s clear that this was meant to be more of a gateway game. It’s not what I would call LIGHT, but it’s mechanically simpler than Arkham, and much simpler than Lord of the Rings, which I believe is clearly the heaviest of the bunch.

As an example, resources as you are used to are not here. Rather than managing a pool (or pools, in the case of Lord of the Rings) of resources, you pay for cards by discarding other cards from your hand, an evergreen mechanic that is so satisfying in its deceptive simplicity. Race for the Galaxy (2007) is another game that employs this same simple mechanic. What that means is that while the game is removing mechanics, its emphasizing the hand management here. And interestingly enough, your hand size will fluctuate based on if you are in Hero or Alter-Ego mode (ie which side your avatar’s card is face up). As your hand size fluctuates, it will present you with very difficult situations about whether you should hang onto cards and try to grow your hand size or discard as needed to pay for other cards.

And speaking of the Hero/Alter-Ego mode, this is one of the most satisfying puzzles of the game, because on your turn you can switch between these two modes, but only once per turn. Once the villain’s turn begins, they’ll interact with you differently based on if you are visible as a hero or disguised in your alter-ego. If you’re in hero mode, they attack you. If you’re in you alter-ego disguise, they’ll work on their scheme (slowly marching towards the end of the game). Is it better to stay in Hero mode and fight, thereby slowing the scheme’s progress? Or is it better to let the scheme progress so you can recover (heal) in Alter-Ego mode. Other than card abilities, this is the only way to increase your health, making it very important. This dilemma is so satisfying. What should you do, and when is always a delightful pickle to face.

And the theme. Yes, I love Marvel comics. I’ve read a fair amount of Marvel comics, mostly bronze age, and I find the implementation of theme here simple yet very effective. The mechanics are clean and streamlined, meaning some amount of theming is abstracted away, but so many of the card abilities are instructed by the hero’s comic book abilities. For example, Iron Man is underpowered at the start of the game (with a base hand size of only ONE when he is Iron Man), but as the game progresses and Tony is able to install upgrades to his suit, he will slowly become more powerful, and significantly more powerful at that. And as he adds upgrades, his hand size will grow, giving you a true feeling of acceleration

True, it’s still a card game, meaning that much of the heavy theming you may find in a more in-depth or complex board game is abstracted away. That being said, I really enjoy the implementation of theme here.

The End (Final Thoughts)

I apologize if it seems I’ve belabored the bad things, because that’s actually misleading. I think this game is great. Essentially, it’s exactly what I wanted. It plays well solo, it presents a ton of difficult choices, it’s hard, and it’s not campaign based. I can sit down and knock out a satisfying game of this in 30 minutes. It’s definitely challenging, and the heroes all feel very different when you play them. The Alter-Ego vs Hero modes not only present you with different abilities (most heroes have special abilities that are available to them based on which mode you are in), but there are also cards scattered throughout each hero’s deck that can only be played if you are in one mode or another. 

In regard to the villains, I also want to mention the fact that there are nemesis cards associated with each hero, like Killmonger for Black Panther or Titania for She-Hulk or Vulture for Spider-Man, who can be brought into play based on a specific card being drawn from the encounter deck. Each hero also has an obligation card specific to them that may be drawn to complicate their lives. The obligation cards usually entail the hero having to choose between being in Hero mode or Alter-Ego mode. For example, Spider-Man’s obligation card is “Eviction Notice,” which forces him to essentially turn back into Peter Parker and deal with the problems in his day-to-day life. When you do that, however, it allows the villain to scheme, once again pushing the game towards its ending. This aspect is so clean, but so clever and thematic.

For a game that is really fairly simple, Marvel Champions presents so many tough choices, eliminating some of the heavy resource management and complex card-play inherent to Lord of the Rings or Arkham Horror and replacing it with more puzzly questions of timing and hand management.

If you like tough and clever card games, this is definitely something you’ll want to check out. For me, the only thing preventing this from getting the highest marks is the fact that I still have a strong personal affinity for Lord of the Rings, a game Kathleen and I have played loyally for years. But if you’re new to the land of cooperative LCGs, this could be your newest obsession.

Player One Eric

[seriouslyhooked]

Perfect (The CS Mixtape) Part 164/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Short future oneshot (a few years after 6B) where Emma and Killian come home from an all too rare date night and he has a surprise for her. Includes CS fluff in spades, a glimpse of more CS kids, and pays tribute to my multi-reader request for the song ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran. Thanks for reading and hope you all enjoy!

Making their way down the thoroughly familiar streets of Storybrooke, Killian couldn’t resist the smile that played at his lips. This evening had been a breath of fresh air and a beautiful interlude for him to spend with his Swan after a number of busy weeks where they’d had less and less time to be alone together.

Not that he would trade the state of things for anything. The truth was that this life they’d forged together over the past few years was everything he had hoped for and more, and though there was always something left to do, and always some new adventure that needed attending to, Killian loved this life in a way he couldn’t readily express. This was the future that Emma and he had been meant to have, and the idea of happily ever after was tangible given all the good they had going in their lives right now.

“On nights like this it’s almost hard to imagine how different things used to be,” Emma murmured from where she was curled up beside him on their walk home. Killian wasn’t in the least bit surprised that her thoughts were headed in the same direction as his. They were very in tune, he and Emma, and though the path of love wasn’t always smooth sailing, there was never any doubt that they would make it and that they were meant to be with each other all along.

“Aye, love. But we’ve had our fights, we’ve waged our battles, and we’ve earned this through and through.”

Emma hummed out her agreement to that indisputable fact into the mild night air as she tucked her head against his shoulder and Killian felt his own sense of peace shift more thoroughly into place. His mind wandered back towards the journey they’d gone through to get here and he tracked in a matter of seconds all of the twists and turns that got them to this beautiful moment.

After the final battle had been fought and calm and peace had returned to Storybrooke once more, there had been enough of a lull for Killian and Emma to decide on next steps. Given the breakneck pace of the several years before, it was almost alarming to have so much down time, but they had made the most of it and Killian’s grin widened as he thought of all the afternoons he’d spent stealing moments with her at the station and all the nights they’d spent not sleeping and getting wrapped up in each other instead.

It was one of those nights that had brought forth their next chapter in the story of their love, one where Henry ended up having a little sister and Emma and Killian had the chance at doing this whole parenting thing together right from the start. It was pure magic and also complete terror rolled into one indescribably entity, and the first year of his little Hope’s life Killian had fluctuated between being a wreck with worry and blissfully happy to have this chance and have Emma as the partner to undertake such a journey with.

Since that time Hope had reached the tender, troublesome age of four and she’d also been joined by another sibling, a healthy baby boy named Liam who was currently waddling through the thick of his terrible twos with Emma’s golden hair and Killian’s teasing blue eyes. That smirk that Killian was known for had also been past on to their little boy, and every time it appeared on his son’s happy face, it spoke to all the mischief they’d have in store with this lad someday.

“You think the kids were good for Mom and Dad?” Emma asked and Killian chuckled at that, shaking his head in an honest reply.

“There’s really no telling. They’re darlings the two of them, but they also realize they’ve got their grandparents wrapped so tight around their little fingers they can get away with anything they bloody wish to.”

Emma laughed at that breakdown of their children’s relationship with their grandparents, her hand running over Killian’s arm lovingly as she looked back up to him and her jade colored eyes caught his. Gods she was beautiful, truly just as lovely as the first time he’d laid eyes on her, and though they’d had all this time to get used to being together, Killian’s heart still skipped a beat at the gorgeousness of that happy smile that curled at her lips. It was such a treasure to spend a happy moment with Emma, and right now life was filled with such moments to a remarkable degree.

“Are you trying to say that we’re not just as under their spell? Because I hate to break it to you Captain, but you’re hardly the strict disciplinarian when either of them flash you that puppy dog look of theirs.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Swan, but can you really blame me? They’ve all the same magic and magnetism of their incredible mother, and then on top of that they have the benefit of being my children too. As such they’re the whole package in any conceivable way.”

Killian didn’t need to look at Emma to know she was rolling her eyes at that, but he couldn’t help the joke all the same. Truth was he could be a total pushover when it came to those little tykes, but there were moments when he was far more serious, especially when it came to their safety. And when Emma believed it was time to put their foot down as a parental unit, he never questioned her, always knowing that it was best for them to be a team. Besides, his lovely wife was easily the smarter of the two of them with better instincts than he could ever hope to have, and Killian would be a fool not to follow where she led.

Emma replied to his teasing with some sass of her own, checking his ego in a way that was blunt but also loving, which was easier said than done, and at that moment they turned the corner onto their street, finally coming into view of the house they called home once more. It was a relief to be back in this place where they both belonged to be sure, but as they were making their way up the walkway of the house, Killian knew the night couldn’t end just yet He had plans for Emma, and as she looked to head up the front steps, Killian held her back, surprising her with his lack of motion and bit of redirection.

“Before we go inside, my love, there’s one last thing I was hoping we could do.”

“Oh really?” Emma asked with a smirk and a heated look that spoke to the best kind of trouble life could bring. She licked her lips and her gaze dropped to his mouth in turn and Killian’s whole body flared with warmth and delicious tension. Damn she was a siren! She was still capable of making him crave so much more with just as ingle expression, but he had to resist, at least for a while longer until they were back inside and in the confines of their bedroom once more.

“Do you trust me?” he asked and Emma’s face softened into a sweet, sincere smile as she nodded.

“Always.”

With that soul searing agreement in his grasp, and with Emma’s hand clutched in his, Killian moved them around the house to the backyard where his surprise for her was currently waiting. It was a familiar path to get to that quiet, little oasis, and once they were through the back gate Killian flicked on a light switch to illuminate the space. The resulting gasp that came from Emma was exactly what he’d wanted. He looked to her reaction and he found her truly surprised in the best possible way, if the happy tears that were misting up her eyes were any indication.

“Killian… it’s beautiful,” Emma finally said, tearing her gaze from what he’d prepared and designed in the backyard today before leaving for their date without her knowing.

The space out here was a place of haven and reprieve for their family, and along with the playground contraption meant for the kids (which had taken Killian and David far longer than they’d care to admit to put together) there was a garden and flowers and greeneries all around. This outdoor place truly enhanced an already wonderful home, and this house, that had at one time been shroud in dark memories, held nothing but brightness now. Everywhere he looked Killian could recall some perfect moment, and tonight the whole place was lit up with twinkling lights and precisely hung lanterns to enhance the evening’s moonlight and to provide a special ambiance he knew in his heart his wife would enjoy.

“I’m glad you like it. But I have to admit my motives are not purely unselfish.”

“They aren’t?” Emma asked as she looked back to him with a curious glance and a raised brow that he had to smile at.

Even with this face of confusion coloring her expression, Emma was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. She was more than words could ever hope to capture, but the one that came to mind as the twinkling lights illuminated her golden hair was angelic. Like an angel Emma was something more than human, something so far surpassing ordinary, and yet somehow she was also his. He could feel it so surely, sense their hearts were completely intertwined, and see the love in her eyes even with his questionable behavior right now. His heart stopped for a moment as he tried to take her in and feel that love, and a few too many seconds passed where he forgot he was supposed to respond. But when he regained his composure he cleared his throat and set out to explain his intentions.

“I was hoping that with this heightened setting as an inducement you might dance with me, love.”

“You want to dance? Out here?” Emma asked, sounding like she couldn’t fathom his train of thought even as excitement and desire colored her features.

“I do,” Killian said easily and Emma took one more second to think about it before beaming up at him again and moving to take off the heels she was wearing.

Now it was Killian’s turn to be thoroughly confused, and he sent her a questioning look about why she would be shedding her shoes in such a situation. But then Emma explained that knowledgeable partner or not, this would not be a successful dance if her heels were sinking into the dirt the whole time. This made a good amount of sense all things considered, and because Killian was always a gentleman, he removed his shoes as well so they were perfectly matched out here under the starlight.

The only thing left for them to do at this point was to play some music, and with the help of some trusty instructions for all things modern that Henry had left for Killian when he’d last left home, Killian had figured out a way to get some playing out here in the yard. All it required now was the click of a button and the soft, soothing tones of the melody he chose played out all around them. The song in question was one of Emma’s favorites. It was a timeless classic in this realm, he’d been told, and it was one he’d grown rather fond of too because every single lovely word reminded him of Emma.

“Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out you find a way to surprise me,” Emma said at one point when he’d twirled her and then dipped her low and Killian laughed aloud.

“You know me better than I know myself, love. You just sometimes forget that there’s nothing in my world that matters more than seeing you happy.”

With those words let loose between them Emma tucked in closer to him, changing their style of dance to something less rigid and rule based than a waltz. Killian had no problem with that either, for it meant he and his Swan were wrapped up closer together and he could feel her heart beating in time with his. The gentle thump thump thump was a beautiful reminder of he fact that they were both here and alive and living the life they’d always fought for.

Out here in the quiet, with the soft hum of the song’s melody around them and the gentle chirping of crickets coasting on a soft ocean breeze, Killian felt like all worry and care could slip away. Nothing could touch him here, and part of the thrill of all of this happy feeling was that they needn’t travel far to find it. Being here – being home – was the best thing imaginable, and even when this moment did eventually fade away and they slipped back into the house, Killian knew he’d have no resentments or regrets. For when he was with Emma, such moments of magic would always find a way to come again, and Killian was ready for a long long life filled with such interludes.

“I know it’s hardly news at this point, but I think it bears repeating that I love you,” Emma whispered as she looked back up at him and Killian smiled at that, not in a cocky way, but with genuine gladness. It didn’t matter that he’d heard that every day for years at this point. It was still a miracle in his estimations that he’d ever secured Emma’s love at all, and he was always grateful to know he’d maintained a claim to her heart through all the ups and downs life had to bring.

“It might not be news, but it’s still the sweetest thing I’ll ever hear, Swan,” Killian said before whispering that he loved her too. He saw the impact of his honest words too, and the light of wanting and desire that had already been smoldering in Emma’s green eyes sparked to a higher pitch as she pulled him down for a kiss out there on the lawn and under the golden lights.

The kiss made no attempt at politeness, and it was all too easy to get sucked into a yearning that wasn’t strictly appropriate for being out in the open like this, but that didn’t stop Emma and Killian from lingering as long as they could in this embrace. They took things just to the edge and then pulled back, and even then, the only reason Killian could even begin to move away from his lovely wife was because he heard a creaking sound on the floorboard of the back porch. He knew then that they weren’t alone any more, and all it took was one glance in the direction of the house to see he was right and that there were in fact two tiny witnesses to what was meant to be a private moment.

“You guys sure do kiss a lot,” their daughter Hope acknowledged bluntly.

Killian felt as a laugh broke from Emma’s chest, and though she tried to keep it quiet the shaking reverberated through since he was still holding her squarely in his arms. He had no intention of changing that just yet either, even with the unexpected appearance of their two little ones out here. Instead he only grinned as he watched his little lass pushing her wayward brown curls from her precious face as her other hand held onto Liam’s little fist with all the care and authority of a good big sister.

“And you, my little princess, are out of doors when it’s past your bedtime. How did you two get out here anyway?” Killian asked, though he had his suspicions as he came to scoop a giggling but tired little Liam into his arms and Emma came to take Hope’s hand.

“Magic, duh,” their daughter said and Liam chorused with his own attempt at the word he called ‘magix.’

“What did we say about using your powers when Mom and Dad aren’t home, Hope?” Emma asked sternly but still with so much love it couldn’t be denied.

“Not to do it,” Hope said with a dramatic sigh. “Sorry, Mommy.”

“Sowwy, Mommy,” Liam chorused back and Killian felt his heart fill with even more love for these two little rascals he loved so dearly.

Emma, meanwhile, proceeded to forgive their little ones while still emphasizing that Hope had to be careful in that effortless way that only a truly good mother could maneuver. She walked the line so brilliantly, and Killian couldn’t help feeling this rush of pride that Emma had truly become the best version of herself that she could be. She was so good at this, just as she was so good at so many other things, and it was impossible to resist her as she flashed him a knowing smile and they got the kids squared away for bed once and for all after relieving her parents from babysitting duty.

“I have to be honest, Swan. This is not exactly how I envisioned this night ending,” Killian said when they’d entered the hallway once more after Hope had finally drifted off to sleep with Liam fast on her tail.

“Really?” Emma asked with a smile and a glance back in the doorway where Hope’s nightlight illuminated their sleeping daughter in a soft golden light.

“Really. You know I had all sorts of ideas about getting you alone. I never anticipated an interruption in getting here,” Killian whispered as he led her back to their room and watched Emma’s eyes darken and her cheeks flush ever so slightly.

“Maybe it was unexpected…” Emma acknowledged thoughtfully as she came up to run her hand along his chest. “But if you want the truth I thought it was perfect.”

“As did I, love,” Killian confessed, glad for the fact that the two of them were on the same page. “In fact, I think perfect is exactly the way I’d characterize everything about this life we’ve made together.”

Emma whole-heartedly agreed with that, and she showed Killian that not only with matching words that sounded sweetly to his ears, but a night of bliss so blindingly brilliant it was almost like a dream. But the best part was that it wasn’t a dream. None of this was a dream. Somehow, someway, this was really their life, and the most magical part of this happily ever after was that they still had so much love and light and hope to share for now and always.

…………….

I found a love for me Darling just dive right in And follow my lead Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet I never knew you were the someone waiting for me 'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes you're holding mine Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be my girl, I'll be your man I see my future in your eyes Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect I don't deserve this You look perfect tonight

Post-Note: It’s always nice to have another Ed Sheeran song in the CS mixtape, and as I have joked before, I have had enough prompted Sheeran chapters to make a whole mixtape just for him. I honestly still might, someday because I love him, but we will have to see. Anyway, there are still a lot of prompts on my list of songs, and though this one was a newer one than some, it’s where my inspiration wanted to lead me to today. I hope you guys have enjoyed and that this chapter finds you doing well! Have a great rest of your day and thanks for reading!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163

[badirp]

here at bad intentions our member groups are based on precious jewels and because these should embody your character and who they are we allow you to look through them and decide based on your own opinions where each character belongs. no two characters are completely the same and we understand sometimes choosing a member group because of this can be difficult so we ask you to choose the one you feel applies best and to go from there. these are more than suggestions but less than rules, so feel free to get creative.

ALEXANDRITE at their very core alexandrites are mysterious; striking yet reserved, accomplished but not an expert at any subject. they’re a talented bunch, but can suffer from a changeable mood that leads to boredom and instability. with their fluctuating mood, they find it difficult to open up or express their emotions to their closest friends. at their worst, this causes them to have low self-esteem and leads them to isolate themselves further. that being said, they will also go above and beyond when they care for someone and make an effort to ensure that those they care for are happy and satisfied. they can be incredibly hard workers once they find their passion, but this is a lifelong struggle they will either conquer or fail.

AMETHYST amethysts are eternally hopeful, can be counted on for their positive attitude, and attract friendships with their can-do nature. they’re the type to search for the nugget of good news even in the most dire of situations. slow and steady, there are marked by their empathy and intuition; they almost have a sense of situations developing before the building blocks are in place. despite this, their generous nature can lead them to be taken advantage of, and they often fall for deception due to their overly trusting nature. their intuition can also be their downfall, as the amethysts believe wholeheartedly that their judgment is correct, and they barrel headfirst into trouble with this mindset. due to their self-sacrificing nature, they struggle with being the victim of a situation, or becoming a martyr for those around them.

AQUAMARINE much like the vibrant color of their namesake, the aquamarine’s shimmer with life and instantly brighten any room they’re in, mostly as they grandiosely drape themselves across the piano. they live in the moment, from one adventure to another, without stopping to make plans for the future or think about their retirement fund. but this way of life usually brings them luck and they often find themselves surrounded by wealth. perhaps, this is down to their inner observant nature and talent for conversing with others. yet, their rebellious nature, and inability to do something if they’re told to, might eventually lead them astray. deep down, the aquamarine’s just want to be noticed and have that one person give them the attention they desperately want.

DIAMOND the diamonds are bulldozers in human form; they will rise to any challenge presented to them and often go beyond common expectation. their willpower is breathtaking and they have an inner-drive to go after their life goals. but their ambition and self-serving personality can lead them to be described as cut-throat and callous. still, the diamonds only see what they want to, and often ignore any criticism given to them by others. they stubbornly change the world around them into the reality that they want, but often it’s exactly the opposite of what those closest to them want. diamonds will find their greatest struggle in learning to relate to others and believing others care for them.

EMERALD often emerald’s bother everyone around them as they can’t sit still, it’s impossible for them to remain still and they fiddle with any objects near to them. it’s a disaster to put them anywhere close to a business meeting. they learn best by rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands dirty, but they will only ever work on their own terms. it’s impossible to motivate an emerald as they already possess an inner self-confidence and any directions fall on deaf ears. they’re beautifully strong, and not only posses a hardened mind, but a usually athletic body as well. with their stubborn nature, they’re quick to anger and often are prone to manipulation so that they get their own way. yet at their very heart, they just want security and a peaceful environment, albeit one that is dictated by their terms.

GARNET garnets are hard to place, but even harder to pin down. they push back against conventional social norm and think outside of the box with their piercing, intellectual mind. they hate to be ruled by others and balk at placing expectation onto other people in turn. they’re highly artistic and imaginative individuals, but they also are blessed with a levelheaded mind that prevents them from self-destruction. however, if they allow their inner fantasies to run wild, then the garnet may slip into an unhygienic and poor living. they’re also prone to jealously despite having tremendous talent, and often push others away due to their contemptuous nature. at their core, they need to find the balance between living by their principals and getting along with the status quo.

JADE for a jade, respect and trust is earned and not automatically given; they're highly secretive, emotionally unavailable, and often possess an old soul. outwardly, they present an elegant and intimating facade that creates a barrier to prevent social interaction. they're the calm in the midst of storm, and their composed nature stilts them to the core; the cold emotion displayed makes them virtually impossible to read and often people are bewildered by their callous reactions. yet their lack of sympathy is usually a sign that they feel inferior and are trying to compete with those around them. often, if they do something caring for someone else, they brush the action off with sarcasm, and occasionally even belittle the gesture to make it seem like it means nothing to them. their greatest struggle comes in learning to trust and to allow kindness into their life, learning that they do not have to be so sharp-edged to survive and that kindness does not equate to weakness.

OPAL those who fall under opal have a personality of two extremes; one moment they are a kneeling saint and the next they’re a keen liar. they’re a chameleon and are able to adapt to virtually any situation while making people feel at ease in their company. they think fast, have a wonderful wit and charm, and tend to be physically beautiful. even if they’ve only traveled to the next town over, they have a cosmopolitan demeanor and are great storytellers. the true struggle for an opal is whether to use their social talents to help those around them or for personal, and usually financial, gain. with their ability to see the world in black and white, they usually burn themselves out, but they tend to do well with a few close relationships to keep them grounded.

PERIDOT when a peridot makes a promise, they can always be counted on to deliver. they’re strong-willed, principled, and dedicated individuals; they run on straightforward statements, and often have a reputation for stubbornness, but solid facts can sway them to a different point of view. they make excellent leaders because they can be routinely counted upon and make a difference in the lives around them. however, they often fall into the trap of craving more power when put in a role of command and will deny any criticism against their person. it’s best to steer clear of them when their pride is wounded because otherwise they’re likely to chew you up and spit you out, however they’re satiated once their ego is restored. due to their pride, peridot’s often struggle with their reactions to past events and find it difficult to emotionally overcome hardship, yet once managed they often find wealth and fame.

RUBY rubies are certainly complex individuals as they mix leadership qualities with altruism and authenticity. they are captivating, eloquent, and hold the attention of a room from the first word they utter. tolerance and acceptance underpins most of their actions and it’s their genuine nature that makes them appeal to so many. often, they bring social groups together with their dynamic personalities. while they don’t actively seek leadership, they’re often boosted into management roles by those around them. however, their decisions can be swayed by a friendly face as they struggle to take action as they imagine the endless possibilities. they also struggle with being a doormat for other people, which can lead to broken promises and damaged self-esteem. the hardest thing for them to learn is how to say no.

SAPPHIRE much to like the katy perry song, a sapphire switches between a hot and cold personality. they often perplex those around them when they go from an intelligent warm person to a criticizing logician. while they struggle with a mixed bag of emotions and mood swings, they can always be counted on as a beacon of wisdom and trust. they’re seen as the living embodiment of phrase "i hate to say i told you so" and have a particular prickly personality that either attracts love or hate. sapphires have a reputation for being detached, but they tend to just be lost in a daydream or inner debate, and they find it difficult to relax with such an active mind. naturally, as they underestimate the role of emotions, it’s a challenge for them to connect with others and often they come across as condescending when trying to be sympathetic.

TOPAZ due to their reserved and gentle personalities, they’re often underestimated or written off as tenderhearted and submissive, but topaz personalities are most comfortable when they feel like part of a crowd. they look to law and order for their morals and generally present a conservative front; they’re charitable with their time and have a kindness that is unmatched. while they present an organized and orderly front, they can struggle from fluctuating self-esteem and are particularly vulnerable to criticism. they have a need to be in control in order to participate and often react harshly if they're pushed out of their comfort zone, but often they overcome this anxiety with their tenacious attitude.

TURQUOISE a turquoise is a living thunderstorm; short-tempered, bold, and intoxicating. while their impulsive actions cause a stir, it’s hard to look away from such a vibrant supernova. to many it would seem like they lack a sense of danger as they rush headfirst to the next thrill, but it rarely crosses their mind to think about the consequences of their actions. instead, they brush off the damage caused and swiftly move onto making the next ruckus. a turquoise personality loves to push boundaries and lives in a sensual, colorful world. they’re fiercely independent and often struggle with personal relationships, academic structures, and conventional work hours. often, they dabble with risky behaviors and have been known to wreck relationships over their frivolous choices. while they're known to help others let loose as the life of a party, a turquoise uses this persona to run from problems and serious emotional baggage; yet ultimately they will have to face this fear. 

[natalpluto-blog]

rising sign - soul’s purpose

Aries Rising: Move out of the way folks, because Aries rising wants to be first! I'll be blunt about this and say that if you have Aries rising in your chart, someone's first impression of you may be that you are a little pushy or rude. Almost always, they will see you as impatient and in a rush. You may even appear to be arrogant or self-centered since you're so busy pushing forward; you sometimes don't even notice anyone around you.

This is the mask - the first impression. What you will also find with Aries rising is an indomitable spirit, steadfast courage and willingness to walk through fire to fight for what they believe in. Some people don't like Aries rising because they do seem overly concerned with developing their own ego, or self identity. And here's the irony: that's exactly what they are supposed to be doing in this incarnation. The immediate soul purpose of an Aries rising is to develop that strong sense of an independent self.

Taurus Rising: When the bull is rising in your chart, you may appear to others as slow moving, easygoing and someone with charming manners. Some might see you as a tad too materialistic or possessive. You may appear extremely stubborn; not only are you unwilling to give up, you don't know how to give up. At the same time, the presence of a Taurus rising is usually quite calming and peaceful, almost docile.

Taurus rising may appear simplistic to some. It seems as if all you really want is a good meal, some great sex, and a beautiful piece of land to call your own. Whatever your values are, with Taurus rising, there will be no trouble in expressing them to others.

The soul purpose of someone with Taurus rising will center on understanding the nature of the physical. This includes every physical experience from aesthetic to intimate. You are learning how to bring spirit into matter

Gemini Rising: If you have Gemini rising in your chart, you may appear to others as very restless. You have this air about you of eternal youth, and even if you're 90 years old, I'll bet your mind is as sharp as ever! You're excitable and mentally agile - always moving onto something new or the next idea. You're sometimes perceived as fickle because so many things interest you and it's difficult to focus on one area of interest at a time.

Your immediate soul purpose is to learn how to communicate truthfully. You do this only after you've evaluated all sides of a situation. We all know there are several sides to a story. Your lesson is to integrate them all into one cohesive truth.

Cancer Rising: With Cancer rising, others see you as moody and someone with fluctuating emotions. You may seem quite shy, insecure, and super-sensitive. You give off the impression of reacting emotionally to everything, and also appear as someone who is extremely home and family loving. You are also intensely creative. Others see you as capable of nurturing others in a deep capacity and even if you're a man, there is this "mothering" quality to your persona.

Your immediate soul purpose is to learn about nurturing and loving others in a responsible way.

Leo Rising: Leo rising appears to the world as someone with a bright, sunny disposition - at times even dramatic. You seem to exude confidence and when you walk into a room others definitely notice!

Your soul purpose is to learn you don't need approval from the outside world. Underneath that noble air, you're really learning how to love yourself.

Virgo Rising: Virgo rising seems to be quite refined. Very often a probing, analytical speaker with a soft tone to your voice, others may see you as intelligent and witty. Others may accuse you of either being too neat, or too messy, but you will certainly have a distinct pattern to your character. Others will notice how important work is to you as well.

Your immediate soul purpose has to do with learning how to improve yourself without criticizing or undermining others.

Libra Rising: It may very well be true that others see you as quite attractive. After all, you probably have delicate, refined features and exude charm and confidence. I'll bet your nails are perfectly manicured (even if you're a man) and you're always socially graceful. You may appear to others as very concerned with being diplomatic and fair to everyone you know. You are most definitely charming!

Your soul purpose has to do with learning about balancing equality in your partnerships, and fine tuning your understanding of a relationship as a spiritual path, not as a means to define who you are as a person.

Scorpio Rising: One thing is certain, people see you as intense! Either they are intensely attracted to you, or instantly repelled by your magnetic, mysterious quality. You may appear to others as somewhat mystical, or very secretive and difficult to get to know. There is a tremendous power to someone with this rising sign and others recognize it immediately.

The soul purpose involves learning how to properly utilize this power. Will you use it for what it's intended to be, the life force as a path to God, or the Universe, or the Source? Or will you use it to control and manipulate others? It's been said that souls who choose to incarnate with Scorpio rising have chosen a path of difficult and accelerated soul growth. Every incarnation is important, but I believe if you have Scorpio rising, there is something critical about this incarnation that will affect your soul's development.

Sagittarius Rising: You probably have a knack for putting someone in a good mood simply by being in their presence. You exude optimism and others see you as always exploring new territory, new goals, or new challenges. You show others a strong philosophical or spiritual belief system and may be very active, with a love of travel.

Your immediate soul purpose has everything to do with spiritual growth and faith. You will travel many new horizons in your lifetime in order to achieve this purpose.

Capricorn Rising: Others will probably see you as reserved and serious most of the time. One word others will use to describe you is "responsible". You might even be perceived by others as somewhat of a "wet blanket" because you're so busy planning and working towards achieving your goals that you give off the impression of someone who is a bit dry or all work and no play. You are quietly ambitious, climbing the ladder of success one rung at a time. You may have invented the word "willpower". Your immediate soul purpose includes learning about responsibility and structure. You are also here to teach others how to properly take care of business.

Aquarius Rising: Okay, so maybe others see you as a bit weird, or eccentric. You certainly are progressive in some way but your progressive outlook will be fenced into your own restrictive ideas of that particular outlook. Because of the rulers of Aquarius (Uranus and Saturn) being so inherently different (Saturn is structure and Uranus breaks up structure) you might seem to be a contradiction to others. One thing is certain; people are going to be attracted to your magnetism. Even with your electric quality, you may be more interested in ideas than people (or at least that's how you might be perceived).

Your soul purpose centers on breaking through to a more progressive consciousness. I believe it also has something to do with learning to discriminate when you should respect an existing structure vs. when to go ahead and break it up.

Pisces Rising: Others will see you as generous, sympathetic to those less fortunate, and very sensitive and sentimental. You are the essence of feeling and imagination. People may often see you as someone they can easily take advantage of because of your capacity for unconditional love and compassion.

Your soul purpose will be to learn to give to others without losing yourself in the process. You must also learn to deal with your intense emotions rather than escape from them.

(source)

[ordinarymediashitpost-blog]

David O’Reilly’s game Mountain begins quietly with the statement “You are Mountain. You are God.” As you are rendered in empty space, gaining a basic polygon structure and being covered in a grass texture, a blue sky and clouds materialize around you. Trees materialize on you. For a moment you can imagine an implied ground. “Please enjoy your time here.”  It is evident, though, that you are rotating in an ungrounded space, and, once you perform one of the few interactions available to you by zooming out, you can see that you’re drifting alone through the depths of space. The atmosphere that surrounds you extends a short distance from your peak. Beyond that you can only extrapolate the vacuum of space, distant stars, and the occasional collision of drifting space trash in the form of comically a large baseball or other man-made detritus.

The view from your screen will ambiently drift outward from your rotating geologic self, making the reality of your alone, adrift existence unavoidable. There is little implied by your presence beyond the small amounts of life sustained on your surface, and the weather patterns that drift around you. While you are central in this space, it is immanently clear that the universe has other concerns. 

Built into the quietness of Mountain is room for interpretation, and the game has elicited a spectrum of readings from industry games journalists to new media scholars. Arguments about whether or not Mountain is a game fell away shortly after its release in 2014. In this time the orientation of the game’s ontology has been addressed by authors Ian Bogost and James Hodge – with different arguments being made for how players relate to Mountain as a literal object, networked software, and/or thing of relation. 

In Hodge’s discussion specifically, he utilizes Serres’ writing as the precedent for Bruno Latour’s mapping of the ‘quasi-objects’ and ‘quasi-subjects’ in modernity. Hodge positions Serres’ formative writing on the quasi-object as resonant with “Mountain” not just for the status of the mountain’s ontological opacity, but also for the nature of the game space it occupies.

Serres proclaims how the quasi-object opens onto the matter ‘the whole question”: namely, “being or relating.” The ‘quasi-object is not an object, but it is one nevertheless since it is not a subject, since it is in the world; it is also a quasi-subject, since it marks or designates a subject, who, without it, would not be a subject’(225). ...

Serres Illustrates the concept with reference to games and sports. In games such as the furet... or soccer, the movement of an object or ball orients collective forms of relationality. In its playful movement, the ball re-organizes sociality insofar as it becomes a quasi-object and its movement bestows upon the players the status of quasi-subjects. ...

Even in the absence of any rules of the game, it’s fun to spin the mountain like a top. When one spins the mountain, however it is not the mountain that spins but rather the visual perspective of the mountain. ... This is a curiously dizzy state of affairs, indeed, especially as it works upon the inaugural indistinction between subject and object announced at the outset: you are mountain. When the mountain, or, game perspective spins, it’s hard to know who is the subject and who is the object. Who is the quasi-object? and who is the quasi-subject?

– James J. Hodge, Sociable Media: Phatic Connection in Digital Art

This fluctuation, or reorientation, between (quasi-) object and subject gently flushes out the relational flux of Serres’ parasite/host/noise dynamic. Though Hodge’s own use of the quasi-object here doesn’t make mention of the preceding parasitic formulation, his reading of “Mountain” within game space lends itself well to an isolated mapping of the quasi-object away from Serres’ larger parasitic project. 

This usual methodology for digital media and games criticism interrogates the reality materialized via the game, projecting as its mate a homogenized, typical ‘gamer’ who brings to the table a homogenized, typical perspective. In order to heighten a reading of Mountain through the lens of Serres’ work, I want to position mountain within a relationship with a depressed ‘gamer’ (’user’, ‘viewer’, ‘participant’) rather than the mentally normative individual invoked through a usual digital media discourse. 

This reworking of the traditional games formula doesn’t radically remake the role of the game itself as much as it expands the dynamic in which the game is experienced within the context of a Kleinian depressive position. When Mountain is understood as an object within the depressive position, the unreadability contained in the distance one has from their mountainous self holds more significance than the simple opacity of mechanics presented by the game alone. The unreadability that surfaces within the depressive relation can then be thought of as equally contributed by both player and game, and the relationship between the two becomes the object of discourse.

“I don’t really know what I am. Is that weird?”

The moments in which the depressed person might want to sit in silence with another being are likely the times when their presence connotes both themselves and their depression. While many readings of Klein’s depressive position imagine it as something to be seen through, I’d like to reimagine depression as something to see with. When the depressive person arrives at their screen, they bring both themselves and their depression to the table (in whatever kind of entangled state they exist in at the time).

“I’m reminded of my childhood on this turbulent night”

The depressed person opens Mountain on either their computer screen or smartphone to sit with it, and in this moment they might project either themselves, their depression, or both onto the mountain that is them and theirs. When a small poetic thought arrives on the screen, Mountain speaks for the depressed person, or their depression, or perhaps both of them simultaneously. Who is producing the noise does not matter, so much as the noise is being produced via the line of text arriving on screen. As it comes from the mountain, it comes from themselves. 

"I find myself lost inside this winter day"

When Mountain states in its inception that “You are Mountain.” it doesn’t simply qualify the mountainous self as a quasi-object. You are also the quasi-object, and with you, your mental states, affects, bodily sensations, and traumatic experiences. When your mountainous self is hit by an oversized pie, you receive a message reading, “You have been hit by a pie.” This pie stays with you as you drift through space, appearing with each revolution of your mountainous self as a reminder if the surreal happenings that can embed themselves in your projected (and lived) existences. 

“I feel alive inside this pitch black night”

The game of mountain feels stable when it is in motion. It lacks a measurement of time beyond the qualities of daylight and night. Upon its inception, the mountainous self feels like it is a permanent fixture whose conditions, surface and affect may fluctuate, but whose bodily condition remains to be encountered. There will always be a mountain in “Mountain” to interact with, even if the game is reset. As the depressed person opens the software, they are less engaged with the premise of a game as much as they are engaged in a assured relation to their self-state. 

“The world is random and therefore frighteningly meaningless”

The distance between the ego and the object in Klein’s depressive position can either be a product of the object’s movement away from the self, or the self’s construction of distance from the object. In either case, the distance is held and produces the space for a quasi-object and quasi-subject to arise of their own accord. This space is not orchestrated, it is perceived. The quasi-object and quasi-subject are not forced into their ontologies as much as drift away from the stability of known object/subject formations. When seeing the world with depression, the depressed person can construct the conditions under which any thing can become a quasi-thing in relation to themselves and their position. Mountain provides a canvas for that projection and a stability of some-thing to sit with in their distance.

“This just feels like a colossal waste of time”

[meditationadvise]

Tonight`s Full Snow Moon + Lunar Eclipse Are Charged With Cosmic Power. Here`s How To Activate It

Lights, camera, action! Friday, February 10, brings the moon in theatrical Leo as well as 2017's initial lunar eclipse, sending out a cosmic spreading call. This is a day to tip out as well as allow your abilities radiate-- but always remember to be an appreciative audience member, too. This lunar occasion is the end result of any kind of efforts started six months ago at the Leo new moon. As Leo policies creative thinking, glamour, love and fertility, many of us will be "offering birth" this weekend break, seeing our efforts emerge in a strong and also attention-getting method. And also love could be off the charts ... so why delay for Cupid's arrows to strike? (Review your love horoscope to discover just what the stars state about the item of your affections.) The Leo complete moon lunar eclipse begins the very first in a two-year eclipse series to strike the Leo-Aquarius axis. These enthusiastic moonbeams will definitely bring some red-carpet magic to the world-- Grammys Party anyone? And also right before Valentine's Day, the lovestruck Leo power might bring a couple of charming transformations our means.

Eclipses are harbingers of sweeping modification, speeding up inevitable actions as well as pushing us to search in new directions. The Leo-Aquarius series will play with the equilibrium in between Leo's opulent aristocracy and the neighborhood 'one love' spirit of Aquarius. The battle in between the 'riches' as well as the 'have-nots' might obtain intense, and we'll all need to find out a few lessons about when to share (Aquarius) when to spoil ourselves (Leo). Exactly how can we preserve our originality as well as still become part of the cumulative human race? When united in the finest feasible way, the crossbreed of Aquarius and Leo could bring a full-on revolution of love. We are so all set for it! The Friday evening lights will certainly indeed be brilliant, as the Leo full moon eclipse will increase in tandem with a flyby of an emerald eco-friendly comet. Comply with the yellow block road? The penumbral eclipse will certainly happen at about 5:34 p.m. EST and the moon will certainly reach its top at about 7:33 p.m. You could look for the Comet 45P/Honda-Mrkos-Pajdu šáková-- aka the 'New Year Comet' throughout the early hrs of Friday evening as well as Saturday morning. Whew! That's a lot of daydreaming to absorb. And also if cloudy wintery skies obstruct your sight you could still take in the spirituality of the February complete moon. According to the Old Farmer's Almanac, the moon in February is additionally called the Full Snow Moon, given that the heaviest snowfalls have a tendency to happen this month. (Today's impressive snowstorm that pummeled the East Coast was certainly a measure of that!) Throughout Colonial times, the Full Snow Moon was called by Native Americans as a method of tracking the seasons. So whether you're snowed in, right here are a few stimulating winter routines to harness the power of the Leo full moon eclipse:

1. Attach to the Self, peaceful the mind.

Proud Leo has a credibility for proclaiming their own horn without a second thought. There's absolutely nothing outrageous regarding a little self-promotion under the light of this complete moon eclipse. Sharing our gifts is an act of kindness, as long as our objective is to uplift others instead of serve our very own vanities. That claimed, all ego-related issues drop under the guideline of the Lion's domain.

Flip with Eckhart Tolle's A New Planet: Stiring up to Your Life's Objective for an enlightened perspective on getting rid of the grasps of the ego (which is the shadow side of the Self). In Tolle's definition, vanity is not about vanity and also pride. Instead, it appears as the harmful voice of self-hatred, limiting beliefs, as well as the safety covering we keep between ourselves as well as others. When we launch the ego, we become present to the feeling of oneness that we share with others. Trigger the power of the complete moon in Leo to appear the boundaries of vanity and also reconnect with the global human spirit. As you sit to meditate, bring your focus on your breath as well as recite the mantra, "I am you and you are me."

2. Provide on your own authorization to brag.

Ego apart, we all of something worthy of crowing from the roofs, as well as the Leo moon is the perfect chance to do simply that. In our society of self-deprecating cool, pumping ourselves up is frequently discredited-- yet at what cost? Inning accordance with "enjoyment revolutionary" Regena (Mama Gena) Thomashauer, boasting is an essential antidote to the culture of embarassment that females have acquired as a heritage. In her College of Girly Arts, she motivates individuals to boast happily, openly as well as usually as a confidence-boosting form of extreme vanity. She suggests doing it as a structured workout, where each individual takes a turn boasting and also the listener cheers the boast on. As grads of Mama Gena's Mastery program, we recommend embracing this revolutionary technique for a week (or also an endless time!). As well as indeed, guys can do it too! As soon as the preliminary awkwardness passes, bragging puts us in contact with the wonder of our very own special magnificent gifts-- and a deep thankfulness for the lives we get to live-- which's something the moon in Leo adores!

3. Perform a courageous act.

Brave Leo is the zodiac's hero, constantly going to gamble or speak out when nobody else dares. There's a distinction between being bold and also fearless. A fearless person may be out of touch with truth, a courageous individual 'feels the fear, but does it anyhow.' As well as did you understand: courage can actually be a kind of prevention versus health issues? Anxiety is connected to anxiety, as well as stress and anxiety is one of the triggers for many illness. Don't bother that concern also quits us from living our dreams, going after happiness and also feeling the untainted joy that Leo is everything about. Take a look at The Concern Remedy: Cultivating Nerve as Medicine for the Mind, Body and also Soul, by Dr. Lissa Rankin for a healthy confidence boost.

4. Give birth to creativity.

Leo is the indication of fertility and this complete moon eclipse is ripe for creation. If you've been struck by baby high temperature, this is the week to take definitive activity. Or, reduce ties to the commitment-phobe in your life (due to the fact that they will likely never ever quit fluctuating) as well as discover a Valentine that shares your need to construct a family members, be it with all-natural birth or adoption. If IVF therapies are something you are seeking to check out, establish a medical professional's consultation, or simply get to babymakin' the natural method. Figuratively speaking, this complete moon may be signaling a time to bring to life a creative venture. Begin that vegan food vehicle company, compose the rundown to your autobiography, or begin painting the next work of art that you'll contribute to your oeuvre. Have a look at cost-free business training videos from our buddy Marie Forleo for additional inspiration! Taking the very first step near this complete moon puts the power of the cosmos behind your efforts.

5. Open your heart and also lengthen your spine.

Every zodiac sign is related to a various location of the body. For Leo, it's the heart, upper back and spine. Unfurl that yoga exercise mat and also collaborate with the power of the Leo moon eclipse by doing yoga exercise stances like Wheel, Bridge, or Camel The key to safe backbending is to go into the position through the heart (thus why these presents are described as 'heart openers'). By bringing your interest to the heart-opening element of the pose first, you can much more naturally lift from the lower back to lengthen the spinal column upwards. Incentive: Invigorating these Leonine body parts will certainly assist you link to the Lion's pledge of imagination, fertility, love as well as limitless self-expression.

6. Dive right into primal dance or join a drum circle.

Full-bodied expression is just what this Leo lunar occasion is everything about, so bailamos, people! This moon was indicated to be invested in the dancing floor or also doing an extra spiritual kind of movement like Contact Improv or Thrilled Dancing. Obtain lost in the rhythm ... but don't quit there. Dancing for a cause! Since February 14, 2012, V-Day developer Eve Ensler has led 1 Billing Climbing, an around the world activity to dance for completion of violence. Like a worldwide flash mob with a reason, join the dancing change and arrange your very own public drum and also dance occasion, or sign up with one near you.

7. Step into the spotlight.

We are all regal in our very own specific means. Where do YOU preponderate? Raise the drape: It's formally showtime, as the Leo moon wants us to flaunt our skills like today was a planetary cabaret. Ruptured onto the world phase in one of the most extravagant means feasible. Luxe Leo enjoys when we shimmer, flash, and also drip in conflict-free rubies. After all, this is the indication that rules pleasure, indulgence, and also robust self-expression.

Break out the bangles, leading hats and plume boas! Glamazon Leo adores strong shade, intense prints and staged costumery. Like youngsters playing dress-up, this moon encourages us to reveal ourselves with bold fashion options. The Leo complete moon adores creativity. As opposed to fade into the masses, wear something that stands apart, be it a statement necklace or a burlesque professional dancer's headdress. Clothes like these are novelty, besides, as well as the social Leo moon urges us to break the ice as well as talk with strangers.

8. Practice the art of storytelling.

Playful Leo is the zodiac's infinite child, for life loaded with marvel. While Leo stories can run long (' Obtain to the point currently!'), here's a fun fact for anybody that has to give a presentation: The classic art of narration is in fact one of the most powerful method to turn on the mind. While a blasé speech might obtain our language processors moving, tales can stir up various other regions of your brain. Defining, for example, a delicious meal will illuminate the audience's sensory cortex. And also as YOU obtain lit up by a sensuous allegory (buttery parsnips, throaty voice!), your audience has the specific same reaction. Storytelling links us in a special means-- a lot like the zodiac's tribal Lion, that invests life in a tight-knit community.

9. Pick love ... and also create it!

Romance, passion and lust loss under the domain name of Leo: that tasty minute when a stimulate of tourist attraction ends up being a burning flame of desire. If we're feeling a little lusty this week, it's not a surprise. This full moon has us all wired on lush life-force power. Allow it surge with your capillaries, bring it to the bedroom or take it for a twirl on the dancing floor. There's a wild, Large Pet cat lovin' energy in the air, so let your hair down and enjoy. Meow.

Lovestruck Leo recognizes that love permits us a direct connection to the divine. Whether solitary or promoted, we could trigger the spirit of amore by making a vision board/collage of our romantic perfect. Sit down with a stack of publications, scissors, a glue stick and also an item of poster board. Curate, reduce out and also gather pictures that make your heart go pitter-patter. Paste them down on the board, after that, analyze and examine the last collage. Just what do you see? You'll be delighted by your very own subconscious signs. That knew you wanted THAT?