#it's hard to help people you disagree with on such a serious issue live safely and in peace but you have to. and you have to understand

[roboticutie]

You cannot resist the whole of the military industrial complex, especially the US American sector, without holding compassion and sympathy for veterans.

[beet1031]

Endangering UNH’s Students: a Critique of PSC and NHYM

(Side note: I'm posting this because it's easier than making a whole website for one post)

Let’s get something out of the way very quickly; I am pro-Palestine. Not only do I want this horrible, awful genocide in Gaza to end, but I want Palestine to be freed from Israel’s tyrannical rule. So I’m not writing this critique because I disagree with either of these organizations politically. Actually, in terms of core values we agree on many levels. The reason I’m writing this is because I take issue with how the University of New Hampshire branches of the Palestinian Solidarity Coalition (PSC) and New Hampshire Youth Movement (NHYM) have been conducting themselves recently. To be honest, I’ve felt this way for quite some time now. But since no one was getting hurt, up until this point I’ve kept my opinions to myself. This, however, has changed. Now, thirteen people have been brutalized and arrested by the police. Eleven of those people were students at UNH. So suffice to say, it’s time to speak out. When it comes to their political campaigns, the PSC and NHYM have a huge issue with jumping the gun and antagonizing others. This issue has exacerbated itself to the point where now people are getting hurt. In order to understand the full extent of this issue, we need to go back to April of 2023. 

NHYM and PACS:

On April 26 2023, NHYM held a protest on Thompson Hall lawn. Their protest was against UNH’s Psychological and Counseling Services (PACS) department, whom they believed were ignoring the needs of students. And the visual aspects of their protest made quite a strong statement; the group made a wooden coffin, surrounded by signs talking about the number of students on campus who had taken their own lives over the past year. During this protest, they held a mock ‘funeral’ to honor the lives of those who’d passed as well as make a statement against PACS. 

At first, I was all for this. Hearing how many people had died, how few counselors there were, and all the other tidbits of information filled me with determination. I wanted to help, I wanted things to change. I went and helped them make a few posters, and got to know a lot of the people in this group. Most of them were students, and I must admit they were all wonderful people. At the time I just assumed that their protest was against PACS, even though I didn’t know all the details of what exactly was going on. So I didn’t think to question their methods. Then about a day or two after the protest took place, I realized that I wasn’t actually sure what NHYM was trying to do. So I asked a friend in the organization, “Hey, why exactly are you guys campaigning against PACS?” and his answer astonished me: “No, we’re not trying to go against PACS, we’re trying to work with them to inspire change”. 

Wait… what? If their goal was to work with PACS, then why antagonize them? Surely if the goal was diplomacy, then bringing a giant coffin and a bunch of posters saying “how many more students have to die” to PACS’ front lawn would be the opposite of helpful. And given the fact that the school tried to have the protest shut down, I think it’s safe to say the administrators of UNH did feel quite agitated. When you look at the policies NHYM was trying to change, it’s not like any of them were openly malevolent. If anything, most of the policies just made it clear that PACS was a severely underfunded department without the means to be as diligent as their students needed. With that in mind, it’s hard to think the organization would be opposed to hearing out students who have serious concerns about them. So again, why antagonize them? And why go after PACS, when the issues you’re addressing are actually the fault of whoever makes their budget? 

Not wanting to be one who complains without understanding the full story, I went to the next NHYM meeting to get their take on these questions. And to be honest, I was not comforted by their answers. First, I asked if the organization had done anything to try and reach out to the school before protesting. Their answer was nondescript, but I was able to get some information. They said that they had in fact emailed back and forth with PACS a few times, but had been told that there probably wasn’t enough money to implement the changes NHYM was looking for. The leaders of NHYM said that there was no hostility, nor an immediate shutdown of their concerns. Just mild dissent, and maybe a touch of disinterest. Sure, it’s not the greatest response in the world. But it’s hard to justify trying to turn the entire school against PACS based on that communication alone. Diplomacy takes time, but it goes a whole lot faster if the people you’re working with actually like you. 

Although this anecdote is not directly related to the May 1st protests, it does highlight the main issue that I believe is present in both NHYM and the PSC. The UNH branches of both organizations prefer to put diplomacy to the side for the sake of garnering attention and ‘making a statement’. And while power in numbers is a powerful tool when used correctly, there’s more to politics than just theatrics. As far as I know, after the initial demonstration NHYM did meet with PACS in person to discuss changing their program. And the good news is, the two groups were actually able to make some progress towards helping UNH students. So my question is, what was stopping NHYM from just doing that in the first place? 

May 1st: 

My critiques of the PSC and how they handled the protest on May 1st aren’t as harsh as the previous section, since they tried at least a little bit to protect students. But in my opinion, there were still a few things they could have done better. Now, let me make something clear: what happened on May 1st was still entirely the police’s fault. There was no reason for them to be as aggressive as they were, and the way they treated students was completely unacceptable. That being said, it’s the responsibility of whoever’s hosting a protest to minimize the risk of that protest going wrong. And the PSC did very little to try and prevent the thirteen arrests that took place. 

Right now, the PSC is using the brutalization of students by police to fuel their political campaign even further. And of course, what happened during the encampment protest was awful. But there’s one piece of information the PSC is hiding from the public- they knew the police were going to show up. In his official statement about the event, President Jimmy Dean wrote “those guidelines, as well as repeated requests and warnings from university staff and police, were blatantly ignored”. What he’s referring to here is the fact that the school warned the PSC that doing an encampment would lead to police shutting down the protest. In the past, the PSC has always had to get a permit to do their usual protests. And while they did have a permit to be on Thompson Hall lawn from 5-7pm, they did not have a permit to be there past 7pm. In their press statement the PSC cites the fact that the UNH code of conduct doesn’t have any rules against setting up tents on campus, but that doesn’t change the fact that they knew the potential risks of their protest long before the event. 

There was absolutely no mention of potential police involvement in their advertisements for the protests. It is unclear whether the event had designated marshalls or professional peacekeepers who may have been able to deescalate the situation. During most protests, both of these people are usually marked in some sort of easily identifiable manner, such as reflective jackets. In the PSC’s defense, they did hold an optional teach-in about police safety before the encampment. But in a situation where you know the police will eventually come, why let this class be optional? Plus as mentioned before, it is unclear whether or not this professional was still around by the time the police showed up. Overall, given the gravity of the situation the PSC did very little to try and protect UNH’s students. They ignored the warnings of the administration, they withheld vital information from the public, and they did not organize well enough to minimize risk during their event. 

Conclusion:

As I mentioned before, I’ve met a lot of the people on campus who work for the PSC and NHYM. I’ve participated in multiple of their events. I was even at the protest on May 1st. Everyone working for these organizations are very nice, very motivated people, and the last thing I want is for any of them to think that I take issue with them personally. Nor do I want to cause drama, so if anyone reading this knows people in either organization, please do not treat them any differently than you normally would. The only reason I’m writing this is because I know the PSC will continue to hold protests, at least until the genocide in Gaza is over. And I want people to know the potential risks of going to these protests, since the organizations hosting them seem to be ignoring them. 

Here’s the thing; these oversights I’ve mentioned do not come from a place of malevolence. Students on campus are angry, and want to fix all the issues going on right now. Not only on campus, but in the world as a whole. I’ve absolutely been there before. But unfortunately, sometimes you have to be willing to work with the people you want change from, instead of against them. This is something that is not represented in either the PSC’s or NHYM’s actions. And if they continue to carry on as they are, I’m afraid about whether or not more people will get hurt. If you’re a student at UNH, please take this into consideration. Whether or not you agree with me, I hope you’ll at least think about what I’ve said. 

[oopsallmabari]

i always wished we got to see a little of the conclave before it ended so horrifically, since it's such a huge event but it feels diminished... what kinds of origins specific stuff are you thinking of? 👀

YEAH like the game focuses hard on the conclave issue being the death of the divine which like. fine, it's because of corypheus, but like. that's not what I care about nearly as much.

GRANTED I have mostly thought about this in the context of my own inquisitors (adaar, mage trevelyan, cadash) but like. the stakes are different!!! to me, narratively, there's a huge difference between the conclave as a business venture vs as a diplomatic mission vs as a above-average merc job.

a mage trevelyan enters the conclave and it is perhaps the most important experience of their lives. this could determine the fate if mages in thedas. you should get some actual context for the mage templar war, sew the seeds of different viewpoints of circle mages!! we know from origins there are different schools of mage political thought-you can't tell me the conclave for mages isn't filled with RICH political discourse. give Fiona a chance to seem like a figure with real power! hell, you can foreshadow vivienne's appearance in game, give us some idea of what it means to be a loyal circle post-rebellion. GIVE US TENSE INTERACTIONS BETWEEN MAGES AND TEMPLARS. THEY ARE TRYING TO BROKER A PEACE WITH A GROUP THAT IS CAPABLE OF USING DEADLY FORCE TOWARDS THEM (it's CUSTOMARY, even). a mage trevelyan enters the conclave presumably with some of the only friends they have in their life, and then everyone but them dies. how does that feel? how does that color the inquisition's response to their survival, this apostate who is the prime suspect for the divine's murder, the murder of hundreds of others?

even a non-mage trevelyan is on an important mission. give us the outsider perspective on the mage-templar conflict. give us more insight into the chantry's role and power since the trevelyan family is so devout. how are the free marches faring, since all of inquisition takes place in southern thedas? it's still a critical experience for a non mage trevelyan, but maybe this isn't so life and death for them. maybe their family members joined them to help negotiate. are the trevelyans trying to steer the proceedings any particular way? do some disagree on what should be done?

lavellans are LITERALLY SENT TO SPY ON THE PROCEEDINGS CAN YOU IMAGINE AN ORIGIN ESPIONAGE MISSION. we could have shown the dalish some fucking respect early on and displayed their cunning! their ability to seem unassuming and on the fringes while keeping the clan safe! is lavellan going to the conclave solo? how close were they hoping to get to the proceedings-how close to the divine? are there city elf servants, perhaps, that they intend to disguise themselves as? lavellans are one of the origins that explicitly aren't supposed to be there, so again, how does the Inquisition-the Chantry-respond to a dalish elf as their prime suspect for the divine's murder? tbh I feel like that is a hugely dangerous spot for a lavellan to be in.

an adaar was probably expecting some conflict as part of the conclave, but nothing so serious as what ended up happening. there's a huge opportunity here to delve into some of adaar's personal/family dynamics. are the valo-kas kindred to them,or just coworkers? who in the company stayed behind and out of the temple of sacred ashes? what's their take on the mage-templar war? THEYRE SECURITY, HOW DID CORYPHEUS EVADE THEIR DEFENSES? what did the valo-kas miss? were there other people up to mischief during the conclave that got ferreted out? were there other hired security groups that they worked together/clashed with???

cadashes are also spies, but with a much clearer bend to shape proceedings. what's been happening with lyrium as the circles disband? are there any signs of red lyrium at the conclave pre-breach? are the dwarves more inclined to see one group access lyrium over the other? how do they attempt to sway minds? the merchant's guild is probably also implicated in the conclave proceedings, how do they navigate?

idk ultimately, the way the conclave ends up for me in game is disappointing-we don't get to really feel how politically altering it is, we miss out on a chance to set up the big players in inquisition (rebel mages and the templar order, obviously, but arguably you miss out on a chance to distinguish orlais and ferelden even, especially for folks that are coming in to inquisition as their first DA game). you have no people connection to the conclave, no idea of the size of the event. everyone else at the conclave died but all anyone else cares about is divine Justinia. is there NOBODY the inquisitor loses at the conclave? no other important dignitaries whose absence could shake up thedas? when the inquisitor enters the Fade and the Nightmare dimension, you're supposed to be getting back memories of the conclave that were terrifying, but there's no real horror. no disgust at what's happened, no reminder besides corypheus, who at that point we have already seen, so there's not much new or poignant to emotionally tie me to.

idk, the conclave explosion is fucked up. and I want more of it.

[a-n-conrad]

Painting (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[Summary: You decide to paint your friend, Steve Rogers, realizing that no one had ever painted him without his uniform. However, things start to get heated after you start to daydream during your painting session. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but with emotions), Not Canon Compliant (Because fuck you, Marvel.), Swearing, unprotected vaginal sex

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

You and Steve Rogers were widely considered to be an unlikely pair. There were a lot of things that you didn’t exactly agree on. Steve was a lot more social, being bold and outgoing. You were a bit quieter, preferring to avoid the company of a crowd. Steve was prone to waking up early to exercise. You stayed up into the quiet hours of the night, choosing instead to get a majority of your sleep in the morning. You weren’t exactly fond of Steve’s workout routines either, though you would join him on a short jog on occasion.

While you were technically considered an Avenger, you were really only brought out to fight for emergency circumstances. You had some incredibly powerful, incredibly volatile powers, but you really had no interest in using them unless it was completely needed. So you ended up making a few deals. You’d be treated like an Avenger, but you were basically benched unless some drastic, world-ending issue came up. So until then, you were kept on hold in Avengers Tower, spending most of your time painting in the studio that Tony had gotten set up for you.

Despite this power, and despite your title as an official Avenger, you were still a bit of an outsider among the team. You tended not to talk to them a lot, becoming a bit easily overwhelmed by the chaos that the team seemed to radiate. But surprisingly, you and Steve got along incredibly well.

You had originally bonded over your love of art. You loved Steve’s drawings. You admired the linework and shading in his drawings. He could do so much with just a pen, let alone if you gave him a few colors. He admired the amount of emotion you managed to instill into every single painting that you made. No matter what you painted, whether it was a portrait, a landscape, or something entirely different, it was always filled to the brim with the emotion that you had felt while painting it. It was like looking through a window into your soul. It was so honest and refreshing.

Eventually the two of you started to talk a bit more while you worked. It started pretty tame, just discussions of how your day was or general questions about each other like “What’s your favorite color”. But eventually you moved on to the harsher topics of your lives. Steve would talk about how exhausting it was to be the face of America, to be held on such a pedestal while also being expected to sacrifice everything at the drop of a hat. You talked about how cold and dehumanizing it felt to be seen by the American government as nothing more than a weapon, a walking nuclear bomb.

Your struggles overlapped at certain points. You both spent a lot of your time being used by the government. You were both seen as tools more than you were seen as people by a lot of the general public. You were a weapon and he was an idol, some sort of trophy. So you bonded a lot over your shared struggles as you talked to each other and worked on art side by side. And when the hard stuff got a bit too heavy, you’d sit and talk about art. About subjects that you just loved to add to all of your work. About what each shade of every color meant to you, about the emotions that you saw in every tiny color shift.

It was so nice, for both of you, to have something like that. The studio that you spent time in was so safe and peaceful for both of you, since the other Avengers tended to avoid it. And the two of you had started to see through each other’s masks enough to truly get to know each other. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone had known him as Steve Rogers more than they had known him as Captain America. He had Bucky, but Bucky was far too busy with his own issues for Steve to even consider burdening him with anything else. But with you he could truly be himself, even if that meant getting angry, sad, or frustrated.

So the two of you had become incredibly close, despite your differences. And every day that you had some free time without any big meeting or mission, you would be in the studio helping each other with art. It was a good way for you to relieve stress, just relaxing with each other. It was one of those days that you came to a realization.

- - - - -

“Has anyone ever painted you?” You asked suddenly one day as the two of you sat side by side in the art studio. He looked a bit surprised, and then he looked confused.

“Of course. There are murals of me up all over the place, (Y/n).”

“No, there are murals of Captain America,” you responded, shaking your head, “They don’t really look that much like you. You really only look like that when you’re working as Captain America. So has anyone ever painted you? As Steve Rogers?”

He looked surprised again. And you could tell as the emotions cycled through his face that he didn’t really know how to respond. You supposed it was a bit of an odd question. And you knew that it was a bit odd to think of someone and their superhero persona as two different people, but Steve couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t Captain America all the time, and he loved that you understood that, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess not.”

You hummed a bit, “That’s a shame. It feels like a waste that everyone paints a costume. You should let me paint you sometime.”

You said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Your face was entirely serious when you said it, but you said it so casually, not even really looking at him, “Really?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing the pure confusion on his face, “Of course. I mean, you’d have to sit still for a while, but honestly, you could probably just sit and sketch for a while. You just seem too good of a subject to not be painted without the costume.”

Steve wasn’t really one to blush, but it was quite the compliment coming from you. He had women trying to hit on him all the time now, being Captain America, but that never really felt heartfelt. It had been a fairly long time since he had actually felt a real connection with someone. But to hear you compliment him, thinking of him as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, made his heart flutter a bit. And the fact that he knew that you were rather picky about the subject you painted only made it more effective.

“I, uh, think that’d be cool,” He responded as soon as he was sure that he could trust his voice not to crack, though he couldn’t hide the slight stutter. It was honestly endearing how much his personality changed when he wasn’t working. While he was still headstrong and stubborn, he was a bit less confident. He knew he could win a fight. He knew that he looked good on television. But he didn’t really know how to interact with people in the new modern age. He was lucky to have the friends that he did. At least, that’s how he felt about it.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, starting to put away all of your supplies, “Why don’t we pack it up for the day and I can start painting you tomorrow if we aren’t too busy?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

- - - - -

The next day was surprisingly slow. You had to say that you were thankful. You had been looking forward to getting to paint Steve, even though you knew it was making him a little nervous. You were honestly excited to have a new project, and part of you was excited for the opportunity to stare at Steve for a bit without it being considered weird. He was easy to admire, both physically and on a personal level, so you found yourself staring more often than you’d like to admit. You were pretty sure that you had been lucky enough to avoid being caught though.

He was physically gorgeous. Obviously. But something about the way that he looked when he was drawing was nearly angelic. The way he furrowed his brows just a little and turned his paper at odd angles to make sure that the proportions of his sketches were right was adorable. The look in his eyes when his work started to come together made your heart melt. When he got a bit frustrated and would run a hand through his hair you could feel your heart skip a beat. You felt a bit dumb to be drooling over your friend, but you had to admit you were falling pretty hard for him. So you’d use this painting as an excuse to admire him without any questions.

He was already blushing a bit when he came into the studio, and you had a feeling that part of it was from Tony teasing him. He had a habit of giving the two of you a bit of a hard time about how much time you spent together. But the blush was still adorable. Something about Steve when he was nervous stole your heart. He was surprisingly soft when he had the space to be.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” He asked as he strode over to your work station that you had already gotten set up.

“Just pull a chair up in front of me. You can get comfortable, start sketching, and I’ll get a base outline and block out as much as I can. Just let me know if you need a break and try not to change your pose too much. At least until I can get all of the base shapes right,” You instructed, trying to keep your voice even. You were surprised at how well you managed to hide the fact that you were completely lovesick.

“Alright, sounds good,” He responded, pulling up a chair and getting himself situated. He crossed one of his legs over the other, resting his ankle on his other thigh to give himself a place to set his sketchbook. You tossed him his pencil once he got himself settled, and then you got to work.

You had to admit you had started to get a bit frustrated with how easily you managed to get distracted by him while you were trying to paint. You had hoped that maybe painting him would help. You had no reason to get distracted from your painting when you were painting him. At least, that’s what you had thought before you started sketching out the form.

You felt yourself losing focus as your brush moved smoothly, the incredibly thin, light paint building a form that you found yourself wanting to know a bit more intimately. You tried your best to stay focused on the canvas in front of you, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting. You imagined what his body looked like under his clothes as you blocked out the lights and shadows of the fabric that rested over his abs. And the vivid image in your brain, the detailed picture of his body that you had conjured up in front of you, followed your brush as you worked.

The brush slid smoothly across the canvas, outlining his muscles, almost all of which showed through his thin t-shirt. Your brain almost instantly conjured up a matching image, the fantasy becoming more and more dynamic as you went on. It shifted from regular images of what his abs looked like when he was shirtless to more detailed images. Thoughts of his biceps flexing a bit as he held himself over you, his arms covered in sweat. Thoughts of his hands sliding across your skin. It only got worse as you moved down, eventually reaching the point between his legs.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” Steve’s voice finally broke you from your thoughts, his eyes which had been focused intently on his drawing when you had last looked were now trained on your face, scanning for any sign as to what was causing you to space out, “You don’t normally get distracted when you’re painting, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” You tried your best to pull yourself back to reality, though the fantasies seemed to be burned into your brain, “Yeah, sorry. I was, uh, spacing out a bit.”

“Do you want to take a break for a bit? Maybe we should get up and stretch,” He suggested. You nodded in response, hoping it would help you refocus on your painting.

It didn’t help much, though, as Steve stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and his pants were riding fairly low. Your eyes almost involuntarily moved to look at him, landing right about the button to the jeans that he was wearing. The muscles in his hips and stomach formed an almost perfect V shape leading into his pants.

“(Y/N)?” You had been caught staring. You tried your best to look casual, relaxing your posture. Your mistake was to try to lean on the table, setting your hand directing on your palette, which was covered in paints.

You froze, and Steve’s eyes landed on your hand, the red and blue paint gushing out from the sides. You felt like an awkward teenager, doing stupid ridiculous shit in front of your crush. You watched intently for a reaction from Steve, not really knowing what to do and hoping that the way that he reacted would give you something easy to respond to.

He raised one of his eyebrows at you, a look of confusion, with a small hint of amusement under the surface painted across his face, “You seem to have set your hand in your paint.”

“Uh, yes, it would seem so,” You responded awkwardly, finally lifting your hand out of the paint. You still really weren’t sure what to say, and not knowing where to put your hand so that you wouldn’t smear any paint anywhere wasn’t really making you feel any better. You cleared your throat a bit, trying to think of something smart to say, something that wouldn’t signal exactly how far gone you were into your fantasies, but instead you just signaled to Steve how flustered you were.

You knew that Steve had never been the biggest ladies’ man. From what he had told you, he was actually pretty awkward growing up, but the confidence that washed over him as he finally figured out what was getting you so flustered was visible. He walked closer to you, standing close enough to emphasize how tall he was, “Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh,” You stuttered, not sure what to say. You could tell that he knew from the smirk on his face, but you could feel your face heating up as you thought about explaining your fantasizing to Steve. He smirked even more as you got visibly flustered.

“It’s okay, honey, I don’t mind if you stare a little,” He said, standing a bit closer, his hand moving to hold your chin. You swallowed deeply as his fingers brushed against your skin softly. Your eyes locked with his as his hand tilted your chin up just a little.

As much as he was keeping up his confident, masculine persona, you could see the complete warmth in his eyes. He softened completely when you looked at him, pure admiration in your eyes. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see you looking at him like that, like he was your whole world. And maybe it was because he felt the same way. He had been falling in love with you slowly, and as he looked at you, he wanted to find every way possible to express it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice soft.

“Please.”

His lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, but you didn’t think about it too much as his lips moved against your own. It was soft at first, but it began to escalate quickly, getting rough and more passionate. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body into his own, and your hands moved to his face, too focused on the kiss to notice the fact that you were smearing paint across his cheek.

He pulled back, allowing you to get a breath of air. That was when you noticed the red and blue streaks across his cheek, “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about,” He brushed it off, before pulling you into another kiss. He truly didn’t seem to care at all about the paint, choosing instead to focus on you.

This kiss started off much more passionate, building even further. Before long he pulled away again, pulling a groan from your mouth as you instinctively wanted more. Your complaints were silenced, though, as he began to kiss down your neck, nipping slighting at a few select spots, leaving marks for you to see later.

“If you want me to stop, just say it,” He said, as his hands started to move towards the hem of your shirt. He was moving slowly, giving you the chance to stop him at any point. You didn’t.

Before long, your clothes were entirely discarded, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Steve’s followed shortly. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself, feeling the curves of each other's bodies as you continued to kiss. Both of you were desperate, the tension that neither of you even realized had been building finally crashing to the ground around you, any sort of restraint being thrown out the window.

However, you had to take a few moments to admire his body. You knew that it was perfect, he was a super soldier, of course it’s perfect, but you didn’t really know how perfect until it was right in front of you. There was no way you could’ve imagined it in a way that did it true justice. The warmth under his skin, the pace of his breathing, the firm feeling of his grip on your waist. Those were things that you could never have imagined fully.

He lifted you up without any issue, placing his hands under your thighs, carrying you to the work table and setting you on a clear section of the table without breaking the kiss. His hands slid across the tops of your thighs before grabbing your hips. Yours moved from his cheeks to rest on his bare chest, smearing a bit more paint across his scalped chest. You could feel his erection brush against your leg as he leaned over you, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

You were breathing heavily, your brain clouded with need, both new and left over from your earlier fantasies. Fantasies that were coming true, “Please, Steve.”

“What is it, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire, “What do you want?”

You began to grind against his thigh without really thinking about it. He had to admit that something about you needing him this much turned him on, but he wanted to wait until you said it before he did anything, “Please fuck me.”

He would’ve liked to have a bit more foreplay, but both of you were so needy, having built up to this for so long with so little release until now. So he complied with your request. He pulled you quickly to the edge of the table. You were forced to lay your upper body down completely so that he could pull your hips to hang over the edge a bit. He took a few moments to rub himself against the entrance to your pussy, coating the head of his cock with liquid that was practically dripping from your pussy. Finally, he pushed himself into you slowly, making sure to monitor your reaction for any sort of discomfort. You were indulging in the feeling of him slowly stretching you out, completely enjoying the feeling of having him as close to you as possible.

He started moving after he was sure that you were comfortable, his hands beginning to wander your body, squeezing at your hips and breasts, basically any part of you that had a bit of squish, something for him to grab. His mouth latched on to the base of your neck, leaving a deep, dark hickey. You could feel every movement of his hips, his cock brushing against your internal walls again with each thrust.

You couldn’t hold back your moans as he found the perfect spot to hit, one of his hands gripping one of your hips tightly to hold you in place as his thrusts gained momentum. He started picking up speed a bit, taking care to continue to hit the spot that made you moan the loudest. His other hand slid down further, his fingers making their way between your folds. He was surprisingly quick to find your clit, not that you were complaining. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head as he started to rub small circles over it, keeping pace with his thrusts.

You were practically putty in his hands, falling apart as he found every way to make you moan. Touch, squeezing, kissing, and biting exactly where you needed him to. You had no idea how he knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t really care as a knot began to build in the pit of your stomach.

You practically screamed his name as the knot finally snapped, Steve continuing his motions, continuing to rub your clit, as you rode out your climax, your whole body feeling as though fireworks were shooting through your veins. Your walls tightened with the waves of your orgasms, the fluttering feeling clear to Steve as he continued to bury himself inside of you. Soon after your climax finished, you could feel his thrust begin to get a bit sloppy, focus clear on his face as he tried his best to hold on longer.

He couldn’t hold on that long, though, soon giving in to the building pleasure. He came hard, his hips snapping into your own and his head being buried in your neck to hide his curses as he came completely undone. You could feel the thick hot ropes of his cum coating your insides as he finished. You both stayed like that for a few moments in order to catch your breath.

As you started to come back to reality, you finally noticed the mess you had made. Steve’s hair was a mess, blue paint sticking some of the tips together. You couldn’t even remember when you had grabbed his hair, but the paint smears left a clear map of where your hand had wandered. The blue and red stripes across his face and chest were clear, too. In fact, you had gotten paint all over his sculpted body, the blue smears outlining his muscles.

“We should probably clean up and get back to work, huh?” He eventually sighed, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I suppose.”

(A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to send me a tip for my writing feel free to tip me over venmo! My venmo is Al3x13l. Tips aren't required, but as a broke college student, they are appreciated.)

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they���re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

[floralovebot]

Helia and Tecna friendship headcanons? -lambofzenith

AHHHHHHHHHH okay so

helia is really bad at technology right? pretty much anything that isn't covered in red fountain lessons, he's a complete no-go at. tecna takes it upon herself to try and help him understand basic technology a bit more and it goes so wrong. helia is literally the mom that squints their eyes and holds their phone away from their face while using One pointer finger to type everything. tecna hates it so much.

helia naturally doesn't understand a single thing that comes out of her mouth when she's talking technology but he still supports her nonetheless

helia is surprisingly rational most of the time! he's a firm Push All My Emotions Down And Then One Day I'll Die kind of person so even during really stressful missions, he's good at keeping a level head about things. tecna really appreciates this and it's not rare to see her, helia, and timmy discussing mission-related strategies During The Middle Of A Fight

tecna has a tendency to talk while she works (only noticeable around people she's comfortable with though) but she gets a little self-conscious about it. she knows it's not Bad or anything, but it doesn't seem Right either so she tries to keep quiet most of the time. helia on the other hand is so used to working while it's noisy that he's totally chill with it. they've gotten used to just vibing in the same room, working on their own things, and not actually talking to each other during it. they're comfortable around each other :) helia doesn't mind when she rambles out loud and tecna doesn't mind him pacing around the room every five minutes. symbiotic relationship.

tecna doesn't like talking about what she went through in the omega dimension, even with timmy. however, she does occasionally draw things out when she really needs to vent and can't think of any other way how. she's always been good at sketching due to her background in designing gadgets so this wasn't a weird transition for her. helia told her about this anonymous place for artists to submit their art with absolutely no names attached and after checking to make sure it was legit and she was completely safe, she started to submit one or two a year. she doesn't like to do it often but it does help to sort of "get it out" without actually talking about it.

while helia is notoriously Bad at video games, he does actually like the more "physical reality" ones (think that virtual reality tecmy scene!) mainly because it feels close enough to real life that he doesn't need to rely on just technology to do it. tecna and helia often have very competitive gaming matches but specifically within those kinds of games otherwise, he's really bad at it and she gets annoyed that he can't remember any of the buttons.

speaking of competitions, helia has an inner bet going on of How Much Can I Pretend To Not Know Jackshit About A Specific Technological Topic Before Tecna Notices. what he doesn't know, is that tecna knows he does this and has her own inner bet of How Long Can I Explain This Specific Topic Before Helia Gets Bored And Moves On. so far, the score is mostly even, with helia only winning because timmy isn't aware of this mental battle and will often jump in to explain things too. helia is very smug about this and tecna can't say anything to timmy otherwise she loses the fight that no one actually set firm rules on.

timmy is just really happy that his two best friends are also friends and sometimes he tries to invite helia and flora on their dates. tecna is okay with this only because she thinks it's funny. florelia were also okay with it but started to not be because they realized that their version of a date and tecmy's version of a date was extremely different. they've started to come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses for why they can't go and so far timmy is the only one that hasn't noticed. poor timmy, he genuinely thinks flora's best friend cactus is sick and needs care 😔

when timmy isn't available, helia will call tecna for any technology related issues he's having. on one hand, she likes that he trusts her and can rely on her, on the other hand, she's told him ten separate times not to leave his computer running all the damn time. (tecna: please turn the computer off when you're not using it. this will immensely help solve all of the problems you've been having. helia: okay so i'm gonna leave it on all the time?). he's not trying to be difficult though. he just forgets everything and assumes it should work regardless (he a little stupit).

roxy gets so much gender envy from both of them and it confuses her all the time. they have no idea what a gender envy is though and they're mostly just wondering how they stop giving it to roxy since it seems like it agitates her??? help please???? researching the matter doesn't help and it ends up becoming a meme on winx stan twt because tecna made a very official and serious post asking about the severity of "gender envy" and needing to know how contagious it is. now whenever either of them posts, earth teens just comment gender envy at them. helia still doesn't know what it means.

they don't watch movies/tv together but they will binge-watch the same shows and then talk about them later on. tecna's formatting is still very formal and functional meanwhile helia bounces off multiple points and forgets to make a conclusion. he stresses her out so much.

helia notices when tecna has stayed up too long for too many nights and will occasionally send her a "please sleep" message when he knows timmy is already asleep and can't do it. she doesn't always listen but sometimes she will, but not before sending the same message back because why the fuck is he up at this hour huh dumbass?????

tecna has a pet bird and helia has multiple cats and they absolutely cannot be in the same room together. her bird is constantly trying to fight his cats and while they're usually well behaved, he's genuinely scared they're gonna try to eat it (tecna: stop calling my bird an "it"; helia: stop putting your bird near my cats 😐)

they actually don't like hanging out when one of them is upset. they both have a hard time talking about their emotions (for different reasons obviously) and they always end up feeling like they have to say something when they're together. they just really prefer hanging when they're both in a good mood or at least calm. whenever one of them gets upset, they stop hanging out together until that person feels better.

connected to the last point, you'd think that would mean they don't know a lot about each other, but they surprisingly do! they're both relatively observant people (tecna gets better every year) and they're actually really good at figuring out why the other is upset and what would help. they just don't talk about it.

although, on a similar note, the one time they did have an emotional talk, it was about timmy. tecna was feeling upset again and worrying over whether or not she's "too logical/not emotional enough" and it was the one time where she actually allowed herself to hang out with him while being upset. they had a genuine heart to heart about things and especially about how she's way too hard on herself. they thought it would be awkward since they actively avoided this kind of thing but it wasn't! it went very naturally and helia even teared up a bit. he's very proud of her and the effort she makes every day and since that talk has been much more vocal about it.

when they went to earth in s4, they both spent way too much time learning about Earth Things; tecna about earth media (canon), and helia about animals since that's what flora was talking about. he started calling tecna "chip" after that because chipmunks reminded him of her. she disagrees with this assessment and he refuses to admit he mixed up chipmunks and squirrels. he still calls her chip to this day, and fortunately, it's grown on her. unfortunately, he calls timmy "chip" too, and now it's a hassle to figure out who he's talking to.

helia is surprisingly interested in zenith technology despite not understanding it all! he enjoys walking through the streets of zenith with tecna while she proudly points things out so he can go "ooo aaa" at everything. sometimes she tries to explain how things work and his mind starts playing elevator music automatically. tecna has gotten really good at knowing when helia is just. brain empty no thoughts because she recognizes the Empty look in his eyes. she enjoys catching it live and trying to figure out why he's just. not thinking (usually it's because he either doesn't understand something or got bored) (this happens often when sky starts talking) (sorry sky)

tecna is one of the winx (besides flora of course) that helia trusts the most. not in an emotional or friend way, but in a physical, we're on a mission way. she has good control of her magic and knows how to use it. she's good at thinking of strategies and applying them properly to the situation. and after the omega dimension, he had a newfound respect for her previously unknown to him survival skills. if he were even in severe danger, she would be the first winx he'd call (depending on the situation, she is occasionally ahead of flora).

helia is really bad at sharing details. he tends to go straight to the conclusion but doesn't share how he got there (adhd king 😌) and tecna is the best person to call in when this happens. her logical questioning makes it seem so easy because she has the patience and knowledge to connect the dots and ask the right questions. when anyone else tries its more like (helia: i'm sitting in a pool of blood; person: uhm do you know where it's coming from?; helia: probably the stab wound; someone: did you get stabbed??; helia: oh yeah definitely.)

[sokkastyles]

I was talking about this to my cousin, and I feel like there's this misconception in fandom (especially for this who don't ship) that zuko and katara yell at each other a lot even as friends. Post TSR, I can't think of a single moment where either of them have lost their temper at the other?

Yeah, honestly, when people say that all they would do is yell at each other I just have to laugh because that’s literally the opposite of what we see of them on screen.

I mean, we’ve seen them argue, but never without any reason, and they actually manage to work it out in a healthy way and their relationship becomes stronger as a result. And that’s actually a sign of a healthy couple. If you’re afraid to disagree with your significant other or you can’t resolve fights in a healthy way then that isn’t a good thing. Obviously you don’t want to argue all the time, but no relationship is going to be always without conflict. The key is in whether you’re able to resolve it, and I’d argue that Zuko and Katara actually provide one of the best examples of that.

And the anti discourse around this annoys me in particular for two reasons. One, people insist that a strong female character has to be tempered, and because Katara is a character who does get angry and lose her temper and feels things very strongly, people feel like she needs a man to hold her back. Which she does not.

As for Zuko, because he’s an abuse victim people act like he’s too damaged to have a healthy relationship and he would just not be able to control himself emotionally, which is also false because he had like, a whole arc of learning to control his temper and changing himself and getting rid of toxic behaviors. Like, that happened in the show.

The one scene I can think of after “The Southern Raiders” where Zuko loses his temper at Katara is in “The Ember Island Players.”

This kinda turned into a meta about that episode so whoops.

Zuko complains about his portrayal in the play and Katara teases him, and he shouts at her but it’s without any of the volatile nature of some of the ways he took his anger out on others before.

He doesn’t seem like he’s really angry at her, and look at her face. Look at how much fun she’s having! Katara, the girl who worried about being seen as too serious. Look at how natural she is with him. It comes across more as good-natured ribbing (dare I say...flirting?) on both their ends, even though both of them are upset about their portrayals. Katara isn’t fazed by his dramatic reaction and he’s immediately forced to eat his words. Which I think is an important aspect of Zuko’s arc of learning to control his temper and realizing that he doesn’t need to take everything personally. He’s forced to live with his own embarrassment, which fits with the theme of learning humility. We’ve seen him do the same thing several times after joining the gaang, where he initially gets angry but then makes a conscious effort not to overreact. Which isn’t always easy, but he’s trying.

And part of it is also that he feels safe with her, despite his long face. He knows that she’s not really being mean. Katara can be mean even to people she loves, but she’s transparent with her emotions. 

Contrast that with the way Zuko was with Mai, who he could never figure out. Mai always encouraged Zuko not to show his emotions and he predictably exploded because he was feeling things and he didn’t know what she was feeling or what she wanted from him.

This episode is actually another really good example of how well Zuko and Katara do get along and are able to resolve conflict even in a situation where both of them are upset and dealing with their own individual issues. Even though she made fun of him for it before, Katara is empathetic when she realizes what is really behind his anger, which is that he misses Iroh and feels guilty about the way he treated him.

And it shows how well she knows him. She knows that he can sometimes do hurtful things that he regrets later, but she also knows that he loves Iroh. She knows this because this mirrors her relationship with Zuko. I mean, the relationships literally echo each other in this episode. She’s been in Iroh’s position, he hurt her and then sought her forgiveness (and she was also there when he betrayed Iroh. She is in a position both to understand and know that his regret is sincere and to reassure him that he can get Iroh’s forgiveness, as she also forgave him. That’s why she’s the one to comfort him outside Iroh’s tent a few episodes later.

It’s also kinda funny that they are so close in this scene because the scene right before this one is the zutara crystal caves parody. They go from moving away from each other, embarrassed at the idea of being a couple, to very close in a matter of minutes. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

This is also right after Aang walks out in a huff, because of the whole stage zutara thing. Like? I wasn’t supposed to ship them here?

Aang and Katara argue this entire episode, and when Katara tries to comfort him about his anger at his portrayal in the play, he takes it out on her.

Katara: Relax, Aang. They're not accurate portrayals. It's not like I'm a preachy crybaby who can't resist giving overemotional speeches about hope all the time. [Everyone looks at her.] What?

Aang: [Turns around and sits down. Sarcastically.] Yeah, that's not you at all.

I remember having a really visceral bad reaction to the way Katara is treated in this episode that I couldn’t really articulate, and at the time I didn’t realize how much it had to do with shipping because I had no idea what the fandom was like when I was watching the show. I described it to a friend as Katara being treated like “the girl” of the group. Even though there are two other girls present, Toph is one of the boys, and Suki is in an established relationship with Sokka so she’s not a threat. But Katara is Aang’s love interest, and their relationship status is uncertain, so she’s treated like a source of conflict for Aang. I was able to pick up on this even though I didn’t feel particularly negatively towards the Kataang relationship at the time, but in hindsight this treatment of Katara is so tied with Kataang that it’s hard to avoid negative associations with the ship itself.

Katara spends a lot of time this episode trying to comfort Aang, who spends most of the episode angry at her for things she didn’t do and can’t help. She also has to deal with seeing a version of herself onscreen that is racist and misogynistic, but who is there to comfort her? Aang, Sokka, and Zuko all get upset about their portrayals, and are allowed to vent and be comforted, but Katara is punished for it and then told that she is like that, and mocked. She has to comfort Zuko, too, but at least she gets to mock him as well and give him a little bit of what she has to put up with. And he’s not the one who yells at her while she’s trying to comfort him, that would be Aang.

If this episode was supposed to be anti zutara and pro kataang, it certainly did a poor job indeed. Even in this scene where they all look at her and fall silent when she says she’s not a sappy crybaby, and it’s supposed to be a joke because “haha, women are irrational, amirite?,” and then Aang responds sarcastically, the blocking clearly places Aang and Katara in opposition to each other, with Aang facing away from her and Zuko between them and the closest person in the group to Katara. The intent was obviously to make the audience worry for Aang that Katara won’t reciprocate, but it actually makes Katara and Zuko look like the more appealing relationship if you are looking at it from Katara’s perspective.

And then Katara and Zuko spend the rest of the finale getting closer while Katara and Aang argue and then wordlessly play kissy face in the last two seconds of the show.

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 7

So i kind of live, and this continues on. 

first part here   previous part here      ao3 here 

             Stephanie twitched when she finished comparing financial resources needed to handle a covert operation, butterfly garden underground, AND manage to keep it secret from the rest of Paris. Cass checked her numbers and it became very apparent that only—and she stressed the only—someone insanely wealthy and is a recluse could be Hawkmoth. And in Paris, that meant one man—Gabriel Agreste.

             Cass was the one to narrow it down to him, and Steph argued with her about it being impossible as “He’s been akumatized!” Honestly, Cass was acting like the Ladyblogger who published one of her early ‘could be Hawkmoth’ theories with Gabriel Agreste as a option with “probably had Mayura as Hawkmoth in her place” argument. It was retracted, and there was a apology put up for it that included: this list was not intended to be serious guys—I put multiple known akuma victims here and ways they could have been Hawkmoth no matter how public the akumatazation was. Did not expect this one to be taken so seriously, my sincerest apologies to M. Agreste and Mm. Sancoeur.”

             Steph could smell the ‘I was forced to do this’ off the apology, and did her best not to agree with Cass that it was forced as then Cass would argue it was a serious accusation put in mixed with less serious ones to get people thinking. To get Ladyblog followers to take notes and pass it to Ladybug and Chat Noir for further investigation. Which, would be a good way to contact the heroes. Except…

             “She interviews the Miraculous team on a bi-weekly basis Cass, she’d have plenty of opportunities to tell them her theories.”

             Cass crossed her arms. While they might heavily disagree on this aspect of who Hawkmoth and Mayura are, there is another aspect that is held in contention between the two of them…

             “Plus, Hawkmoth and Mayura are totally a couple, and everyone knows Gabriel Agreste is too hung up on his wife’s disappearance to consider moving on, let alone do it.”

             “Professionals.”

             Stephanie rolled her eyes. Cass is good at body language. There is no doubt about her being better than most. However—Hawkmoth is an egomaniac. Egomaniacs don’t give up when their goal is in reach for a henchman getting ill or injured. Not unless said hench is, well, romantically involved with them. She knew from watching Gotham’s underbelly for years—their romantic relationship had to be rock solid for it to even be considered. Married or may-as-well-be.

             “He’s ended how many battles early for her? Totally bordering on, if not actually, married.”

             Stephanie paused when two girls joined them, the ladyblogger herself with a too big grin, and soup girl if Cass wasn’t mistaken.

             “Hawkmoth and Mayura relationship debate?” The blogger grinned.

             Stephanie nodded, as yes, and this is serious. “Cass is convinced they’re just professionals with standards.”

             Soup girl groaned. “Not this again!”

             “Girl, I told you, I’m not the only one who thinks they’re a couple, and serious.”

             Stephanie grinned as Cass huffed. A vote for Team Hawkyura!

             “I told you, Hawkmoth is too obsessed with the miraculous to be capable of human emotions, and Mayura is too smart to fall for him. He’s probably paying her a lot or cancelling out a debt for her to work for him how she is,” Soup girl reasoned.

             Stephanie shook her head while Cass rose victoriously, scooting a bit closer to her fellow ‘stop shipping the villains’ teammate. Which is ridiculous—it isn’t shipping if it isn’t even subtext at this point.

             “No, no,” the blogger leaned forward, settled into their table on Stephanie’s side. “That means the relationship would have to be healthy, and its perfect possible for it to extremely unhealthy and for Mayura to be in a bad relationship with someone who isn’t wroth her time. Why else would she keep using a broken miraculous that’s making her sick?”

             Stephanie nodded at the blogger’s side. “And abusive relationships can happen to anyone. Back in our home city,” Steph gestured between herself and Cass. “A top psychologist went villain because she was manipulated into thinking the guy just needed her love to fix him and fell into a life of crime and wanted to stay by the guy’s side regardless of how many times he hurt her.”

             Cass nodded at that, frowning at that. She wasn’t there for Harley Quinn, henchman of Joker. Stephanie was. She did see the aftermath and bits of Harley’s (ongoing) recovery.

             Soup girl shook her head. “Its not that, everyone knows the Peacock is emotions so she would know he’s toying with her. She would know she deserves better. She’s staying because of finances or blackmail or maybe even being able to fix something that’s unfixable.”

             Cass hummed in agreement. “Needs to survive.”

             Soup girl nodded. “There’s no motivator more powerful than that.”

             “Um, love,” Stephanie supplied. She may not be the best at all its forms, but loving gotham’s citizens enough to want to save them was part of what drove her to become Spoiler in the first place. Spite too, but that didn’t seem like the best thing to mention at the time.

             “Exactly,” the blogger passed Stephanie one of her cookies. “Love makes people do crazy things, or did you forget Hercules.”

             Soup girl looked exhausted at that, pinching her brow. “We agreed never to bring Disney logic into these arguments.”          

             “The quote is true—People do crazy things when they’re in love. And Mayura is in love with Hawkmoth, and he’s in love with her.”

             Soup girl rolled her eyes. “Then you’d have to give up the Gabriel and Natalie theory for good. He’s still in love with his wife, and he treats Natalie more like a tablet than a person. No way that’s how he’d treat someone he’s in love with.”

             “Are we forgetting how he treats you and Adrien?”

             Stephanie and Cass exchanged a look. Stephanie focused on soup girl then. Really looked at her. Tired, twitchy, all signs of needing and not getting a good night’s rest.

             “Okay, he goes way overboard with supervising and has control issues, I’m not saying he doesn’t, ever. But he doesn’t let me take commissions unless my grades are up there, hires tutors for me and Adrien regularly, and he’s let up on controlling who Adrien can be safely friendly with to avoid crazy fans ever since I joined.”

             “You joined, therefore are something he can control, and are therefore not going to endanger Adrien or Gabriel since it would hurt your career,” the blogger explained.

             “Sounds like Hawkmoth,” Stephanie added absently, then froze as Cass grinned at her. back track time, ASAP. “But it can’t be since the guy was akumatized.”

             Soup girl looked relieved at what Stephanie said. Though, thinks weren’t looking up much on that front. She might have Batgirl pay the man a visit… after hacking the girl’s schedule and Adrien’s and seeing how much this man really was trying to control them both.

             Cass raised an eyebrow at her.

             “Thank you—can you get Alya off that train too?”

             The blogger leveled Stephanie a look that reminded her too much of Lois Lane that time she tried to interview the Batfam on Gotham crime rates and the effectiveness of vigilantes in a city that was entrenched in corruption and if it was better to just gut the Gotham justice system and start anew with different training and such, to prevent villain strength and intensity escalation. In short—she scared Stephanie. Just a little.

             “I think maybe Lois Lane could, but I doubt it.”

             “Lois Lane is the hero the world is not good enough for and her word is worth more than all of Metropolis.”

             “Not that hard to achieve,” Stephanie said without thinking. There is a lot of property damage there after all, they just have a more white collar-exclusive criminal element. Plus, Lex keeps his bigger projects in other places that are harder for Superman to find.

             Soup girl snorted at that.

             The blogger took offense.

             Stephanie would say all-in-all, not her worst time out on a mission doing detective work in broad daylight.

--

             Marinette was quick to transform into Multimouse and meet up with Rena in the Lourve. It wasn’t the first time either—Alix’s dad took to helping her translate Gaurdian since she hadn’t learned it all before Fu died. Besides her, he was the only one who could read the spell book… though that reduced the miraculous grimoire to nothing but the potions. It held the history of the kwami, how to summon and bind them, and even how to craft weapons for them. It included instructions on how to become a Guardian and what was required of her the sole guardian, and how the Order operated with mentions of ways it could be reformed should it ever vanish.

             It was the closest thing Marinette had to a mentor on how to re-build the Order and choose members, and how to make the best choices as Guardian. It even listed allied organizations and how much stock should be put into trusting them.

             But right now, she wasn’t there as Ladybug to go over another passage or talk about possible meaning and philosophies (did they really mean her job is to kill to protect the miraculous, or like, be that ready to ensure they remained safe?) or the whole “is the soul splitting a metaphor or actual magic” (magic). No, she was there as Multimouse, with Rena Rouge, as representatives of the Miraculous Team to meet up with the Amazonian Historian sent by The Former Ladybug, Hippolyta.

             “Greetings Alwphekion,” the woman nodded at Rena. “Muidion,” she acknowledged Multimouse. “I am Vupyte of Themyscira, and our leading historian on the miraculous. How may I be of assistance, young Champions?”

             Multimouse stepped forward, forgetting she wasn’t Ladybug at the moment. This question had been burning in her mind since she was told of the missing pair. “Could you tell us how the ladybug and black cat miraculous would interact with the main five if it wasn’t for Hawkmoth?”

             Rena glanced at Multimouse, knowing that something was off. It was possible Marinette may be more involved intellectually than she’d been letting on… though given her unofficial spy-work, it was possible that Marinette was Ladybug’s first choice in help… which lead to questions Rena had to keep silent… until Hawkmoth was defeated.

             “Ah, that is both simple and complex. If you wouldn’t mind,” Vupyte gestured for the pair to sit with her. “I was expecting something like that to come from Alwphekion, not you Muidion.”

             Multimouse would have been flustered a few years ago. Hell, even a few month ago, before Fu was compromised, she would have panicked a bit. But right now?

             “Ladybug tasked me to get any information to help her rebuild the Order. I won’t fail her.” She couldn’t fail the kwami. Especially Tikki who never gave up on her, even when Marinette was ready to throw in the towel a hundred times over and give her miraculous to Alya—the brave one she once had to mimic to handle being Ladybug.

             “Ah.” Vupyte leaned back. “No wonder there’s such a storm in your eyes.”

             Multimouse didn’t know how to handle that, so she brushed it aside.

             Rena put a hand on her knee and squeezed.

             Multimouse was glad she wasn’t alone in this.

             “That story goes back far beyond when my people interacted with the miraculous. Perhaps I could have a figure you trust help me digitize my research on the history in full for your Ladybug?”

             Multimouse nodded. That… “Director Kubdel was vetted by Ladybug previously for his discretion and understanding of how sensitive the miraculous and miraculous matters are.”

             Vupyte agreed to use the man at a later date. “For now, I can give you an overview of how the work together.”

             “That would be sufficient.” Multimouse did her best to copy M. Agreste’s professional affect. To hide how out of her depths she was at the moment.

             Vupyte grinned. “First off, The Savior, your Ladybug, has the role of creation. Her role in the group is to guide them to growth, to safety. She is your strategist in battle and the team’s healer. You know this already. She is the only one able to undo the Destroyer—your Chat Noir’s—abilities. However, she can only undo his damage so long as she believes it needs her intervention. Should she find his judgement—and his punishments for those violating the contract between those under the Miraculous’ protection, the Order, Champion and Kwami—be just, she cannot undo what he did.”

             Multimouse felt her heart seize. Plagg mentioned the Atlantians tried to convince a Fox into destroying a rival kingdom, a kingdom that was not doing as the Atlantians’ claimed. When the Fox refused… Plagg never said what happened after that.

             She knew only a third of the Atlantian’s survived the sinking from what they’d released to the public about their history.

             “A ladybug is given all the creative force that exists between her and her black cat, while the cat is given all the ability to detect danger. Half of each of their souls are swapped to ensure this ability switch remains, and that their bond is unbreakable so long as they are called on as Champions. The cat protects her from harm, and she supplies him with what is needed. They are only ever called on in times of absolute crisis—when the Contract is violated, or when the world’s balance is nearing a breaking point.”

             Rena was too still by Multimouse, piecing things together. Multimouse hoped she didn’t pass this on to the others… not until Marinette was certain they were safe to remain in the Order and that they want to be in it—that they don’t feel obligated to out of duty but truly want to protect the kwami. Even if it means never being a hero again.

             “The turtle shields them both—the Cat in battle and the ladybug when healing. They can even bring forth another weapon, though what it is, there is no record that we have found reliable.”

             Multimouse raised an eyebrow.

             “Shelter?”

             The Amazonian shook her head. “No Muidion, something else entirely… the incomplete records I found mentioned people being pulled to the turtle, feeling absolute safety and complete trust in them no matter what happened around them. What causes this, is unknown.”

             Multimouse felt the need to roll her eyes. she was fairly certain it was a cross between ‘must parent them all’ and the turtle’s capacity to ensure nothing broke Shelter. Possibly making it opaque, or something else. She’d ask Wayzz when Nino was asleep.

“Often the turtle focuses on getting civilians out of the area to safety. They are often aided by the Peacock, who creates a creature from a single emotion and ties it to an object, to direct its actions. The turtle protects those in danger with their shelter while the peacock’s creation and the peacock keep enemy combatants busy.

             “The butterfly may check for spies among their ranks, potential traitors too by their emotions but that is often another’s role. They often connect members across distances with those outside of their ranks, acting as a diplomat and choosing new members. At times, they might even make use of their full ability and create a champion of their own, granting them the power to make an army to help the cat while following the ladybug’s plan, or to test a possible candidate’s worth by seeing what they do when given power, and how it is used while having the failsafe of taking it away again.

             “The bee tends to fight beside the Cat, at times ordering the butterfly’s champion should their connection fail, and is ready to take down said champion should they betray the group with a single sting. The bee answers to the ladybug and cat alone—following the pair’s vision and ensuring it is executed whenever one or both of the pair is absent.

             “Then there is the fox, like you Alwphekion. I assume you have grown fond of your ally,” Vupyte gestured to Rena’s flute. “They let you craft any illusion you want. But I doubt you were told of the true power of the fox.”

             Multimouse shifted at that. “The Gaurdian was young when their temple was destroyed. I doubt they hid it intentionally.”

             Vupyte paused at that. “I did not mean it like that Muidion, simply that the Fox is given little emphansis by the Order to the point it was given a dishonorable title for their champions to inherit, the Deceiver,” Vupyte spat the title like sour milk. “Alwphekion is the one who sees all in their truth, through every lie one has spoken or believed. A fox is not a crafter of fallacy, merely presenting what one feels or desires. Their greatest gift is in their true voice, the one that none can lie or withhold information upon being addressed by it.”

             Rena leaned forward, focusing on Vupyte. “How?”

             Vupyte sighed. “The records of that were destroyed in Alexandria’s flames. It is a power a fox can only use with great conviction and motivation. Until then, they can only sense deceptions in shades while the truth rings of their own melody according to legend.”

             Rena stared at her lap.

             Multimouse put a hand on her arm. “We’ll figure it out.”

             Rena leaned into the touch then, sighing. “I have a question of my own, if you don’t mind.”

             “Certainly I do not,” Vupyte assured. “I am here to help the Miraculous Champions however I am allowed by you. I owe your predecessors more than I could ever repay.”

             Rena nodded at that. “What are the chances a butterfly user could make themself a champion?”

             Vupyte opened and closed her mouth, lips pressing and pursing until she found words to her liking. “It is not impossible for them to do so. They would have to drop their transformation to do so, which would prevent proper guidance, and would need to give themself a very limited power.”

             Rena took a deep breath.

             Multimouse took a sharp intake. That changed the rules. A lot.

             “So, hypotethetically, if one’s power could only affect a specified amount of things at a time, say, put into a given space and then whatever new thing was put in was then ejected from said space,” Rena continued, “would that be a feasible power for a butterfly’s champion to use without a butterfly guiding them?”

             Multimouse felt her stomach drop at Vupyte’s hesitance.

             “That is… rather specific.” Vupyte pondered it for a moment more. “While I can’t be certain of the logisitics, it is one of the safest abilities to give in those circumstances. Tight limitations, a weak ability that lacks army-growing capacity, so no need to use the butterfly champion to connect their chosen champion to their subjects, and it is straight forward so no need for an explanation, or perhaps the lack of one would make their reaction to discovering this limit more genuine.”

             Multimouse felt sick.

             Things aligned quickly in her head. Finances. Schedules. Timing. Targets of preference—teens at Dupont where Adrien goes and is able to talk about his day to either Natalie or Gorilla, who would report it back to him. Even Adrien’s concerns for them—weaknesses, insecurities, fears…

             It made too much sense.

             Multimouse stood up. “I have to go, excuse me.”

             Rena gawked at her. “Wait, Mul—”

             Multimouse ran out quickly, running to an alley to detransform and get Tikki to get her head on straight as Marinette spiraled.

             Gabriel Agreste couldn’t be Hawkmoth.

             He couldn’t be.

--

             Outside the alley, Tim, Cass and Stephanie froze as the girl Tim was convinced was Ladybug appeared. She was in a grey suit before.

--

             Rena looked back at Vupyte, hoping her girl got the air she needed. She knew Marinette would come around eventually, but for now…

             “One moment.”

             Alya sent off a quick text to Aurore. The girl was good at keeping Marinette distracted, out of a spiral, and helping her process.

             Aurore confirmed she found Marinette in an alley bordering on a panic attack and was taking her home.

             Rena sighed in relief.

             “Okay, now that that’s settled, there’s something you didn’t spill.”

             Vupyte smiled at Rena. “You are a clever Alwphekion.”

             Rena raised an eyebrow.

             Vupyte sighed. “A ladybug and black cat take the longest to mature in their team. It is no fault of their own; a side effect of half of their being being doubled and the other being taken. Of the two, Ladybug requires the longest time to come into her own as a strategist and healer.”

             Rena snorted at that. “Have you seen Ladybug?”

             Vupyte sucked in her breath through her teeth. “I have.”

             Rena watched her more intensely then.

             “She is not even out of her training suit, while the rest of yours have become personalized, implying that you are not being overtaken by your role. That you have blended with your kwami and role, rather than be consumed by it.”

             Rena froze at that.

             “What do you mean be consumed by it.” it didn’t come out like a question, it fell out like doubt defending fear.

             “Ladybugs fill in any holes in their group. Right now you are missing two, and one is injured,” Vupyte noted.

             Rena filled in the blanks. “Until we get a Butterfly and fix the Peacock, Ladybug isn’t really Ladybug, is she?”

             Vupyte sighed. “She is a child trying to run a home alone until they are both present as allies.”

             Rena frowned at that. “Then why isn’t Chat affected?”

             Vupyte looked far older then. “Have you not noticed that he can only extend and shorten his staff?”

             Rena opened her mouth, only for no words to come out.

             “He should be able to turn his weapon into whatever hand-held weapon he desires at that moment to protect your team. He cannot fulfill his role as Judge and Protector proper. He may be his own person within his transformation and within the team, but he lack his full range. Ladybug has her full range of abilities, but lacks her individuality as a Ladybug proper. Her team is incomplete, so she must continue to cover and cover and cover until it is complete with all five of her strongest allies at her side. Until then, whoever is under the mask will give and give and give until there is nothing left.”

             Rena swallowed thickly. “How do I stop that?”

             Vupyte leveled Rena with a few words. “Find Hawkmoth and Mayura, take their miraculous, and once the miraculous is fixed, hand them to worthy champions—ones who are strong judges of others for the butterfly, and of who is in need for the peacock.”

             Rena felt her mind waver to Rose for the peacock—the girl who fought for everyone. She was blanking on a butterfly though—a strong judge of character was hard to think of as a core characteristic of someone she knew she could trust.

             “You have one in mind,” Vupyte said quietly. “Good. You will have to find another for the other, or an ally of yours must find candidates. The sooner this is determined, the sooner your Ladybug will come into her own. The only other way… would be dangerous.”

             Rena nodded. She texted Chat and Carapace to meet her to talk about what she learned. They’d protect Ladybug. Their Leader. Paris’ Savior. And their friend.

--

             Aurore is many things. Miss Sting is a necessity to keep Paris safe. Aurore of the weather girl duo on KIDZ+. Miss Mandeliev’s favorite to call on for environmental studies and among Bustier’s favorite to read a well researched report. She is also one of poor Marinette’s longest standing friends, and one of the only people who can catch her mid attack and get her to pull out of and process her spiral without setting off a different bout of anxiety.

              Which is why she captured the akuma in a jar, hid it in her backpack until Chat or LAdybug could handle it, and nabbed her friend in the first place when Alya messaged her. She is not on the best of terms with the reporter (she might be holding a grudge over Lady Wifi calling her a hack and may have gone on a spree fact checking the Ladyblog in the early days and found holes on a Certain Person who has been since excommunicated by the students of Dupont and left the school in disgrace within a less than a week of attending). Especially since she insisted on being Mairnette’s best friend when Marinette has her already. honestly, the other never has been the best at seeing the obvious…

             Like the fact that Marinette’s anxiety up ticked with Ladybug’s issues. Or that around the time Chat Noir took on being Mr. Bug, Marinette was injured. OR that Chat hangs around Marinette a lot when Marinette is around an attack, even covering for her.

             Aurore dealth in meteorology and environmental sciences. She dealth with public appearances, PR, and being a child star. It is not her place to point out that Marinette is clearly (a) Chat and Ladybug’s confidant somehow, (b) a member of the team (c) Ladybug or some combination thereof. She didn’t want to make a call, she didn’t have evidence to back it up, and she didn’t run on intuition like Alya.

             Aurore is a Bee, and they operate best within rules.

             Ladybug made not looking into identities a rule. One she’s certain Rena has been ignoring… but Miss Sting follows Ladybug’s word to the letter. She has not looked into anyone’s identity and actively ignored any possible relveations in favor of working on her civilian life and focusing on capturing akuma before someone becomes akumatized, and bringing her catches to Ladybug or Chat for purification or destruction respectfully. Depending on how schedules lined up for patrols.

             Now, Aurore is content listening to Marinette ramble about baking soda and baking powder with buttermilk on her latest recipe and how that connects to their chemistry homework (as they were both smart enough to dodge the math that goes into physics, unlike Adrien or Nino and Rose who were naïve enough to take music theory).

             That doesn’t stop her from seeing faint movement on their school roof in reflections.

             Ladybug may not have made it a rule to protect Marinette. Chat may not have stated such either, but his actions told her it was a priority. And her duties as Marinette’s longest unstrained friendship demanded she monitor the situation.

             Once Marinette went down for snacks, aurore snuck into her friend’s bathroom and transformed to send a single message” I think Chat’s princess has a stalker now. Keep an eye on repeats in her environment.”

--

             Pegasus was furious when he saw the message. Cowboy was hacking camera in the area as they spoke with the other members of the team.

             Rena paled and Carapace looked oddly dangerous in that moment.

             Chat Noir and Ryuuko were the most deadly of the group… Chat’s suit almost… moving, but it had to be a trick of the light. Ryuuko had the same look Rena did when Carapace did something particularly dangerous—like refuse to flee before his time ran out and somehow stayed transformed beyond the standard five minutes after using shelter through sheer force of will alone.

             Ryuuko turned to Chat with a most Peculiar shade of anger. “I will be shadowing her.”

             It was not a question, but a demand.

             “Shouldn’t we check with Ladybug?” Pegasus asked while continuing to check camera. Nothing. Nothing at all.

             This must have been what was setting his friend on edge these last few days. Someone stalking her, but just out of a camera’s reach. Professional…

             Pegasus desperately hoped it was some paparazzi after Marinette the Designer’s secret identity, or even MDC. Anything but someone going after her for something… something he wouldn’t let cross his mind.

             Chat shot him one look that obliterated the option entirely. Pegasus may not know who his comrades are outside of the mask, but he’d be a fool not to remember that Marinette was a spy on Gabriel Agreste. That she was in constant danger as a civilian.

             Was it Hawkmoth?

             Mayura?

             Someone they hired?

             He didn’t know, and he needed to. Needed to protect his friend.

             She believed in him when he wasn’t sure of himself. She argued against his worst insecurities (nuisance, annoyance, best left forgotten) and proved she likes Max for Max. For his rambles, for his excitement and passion and his own brand of sass to their friends.

             King Monkey appeared with a rare serious expression. He didn’t know of Marinette’s involvement at all—only Chat, Ladybug, Alya and himself did—but King must know Marinette. Because that look on his face reminded Max of a friend he’d seen punch someone a little too hard for their hand to keep Max safe from a pair ready to hurt him for his mumbling as a child.

             “Whoever is doing this,” King Monkey stated with an eerily calm. “I’m calling the right to make their life a bit too chaotic.”

             “Get in line,” Rena growled, her flute ready at a moment’s notice.

--

             Elsewhere three gothamites were passed out in the same room. They decided to take a break and watch a movie together.

             They had no idea the Very Displeased eldest of the batchildren had entered the room and forced them each in a separate bed, or that he allowed a certain “demon spawn” to add a variety of traps that, while they all knew how to escape at this point, were still ass to get out of and made it clear they were in hot water.

--

             Jason hoped things worked out for the best… after his screw up, he figured Dickie and Demon Spawn should at least have a fighting chance. Or at least Nightwing would have a better chance at convincing the Justice League and the Miraculous Team they meant no harm.

             He hopes.

--- 

hope you enjoyed!

BTW we have fanart by @thegreysman!!! here which tumblr is rudely not letting me show off. 

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace@jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang

[okay-victoria]

Love of My Second Life: Tanya & Romance

This is both my take on why, despite seeming like the easiest and healthiest relationship to write, TanyaxVisha is up there with TanyaxMary in difficulty level for pulling off successfully, what I’ve seen go wrong in fanfic so far, and what needs to make it/any romance go right.

Where to start, where to start...um, a warning, for obvious reasons I’m going to have to talk about sex.

The Age Difference

This has the joy of being a bit creepy on both ends of the spectrum! Yay.

Visha Being Creepy

Visha is probably 5 - 6 years older than Tanya. While as more mature adults that age difference is relatively negligible, Tanya being 17/18 and Visha being in her early 20s doesn’t make it suddenly a non-issue. If you and a coworker, both in your first job out of college, went to happy hour and you met his/her significant other and they were a senior in high school, would you feel good about that?

The age-of-consent laws in bygone eras may help your case for why in-story characters give a pass to such things, but it doesn’t really help explain it to your readers. Unless I’m missing something, no one is reading this story from 1920s/30s Germany, and so it needs to have the relationship explained in a way that tries to work for modern standards. Additionally, I think people tend to mix up age-of-consent with “people found this generally appropriate”. A 19 year old dating a 59 year old violates no laws in the United States, but that doesn’t mean that most people are going to consider it a loving and healthy relationship without any proof. Even your in-story characters are probably going to have some thoughts.

The final issue, from Visha’s end of the spectrum, is that even when Tanya is aged up to 18+ and has gained some secondary sexual characteristics, she is sometimes still presented as being an “eternal loli” who can be easily be mistaken for someone around 14/15, an age at which girls normally have some secondary sex characteristics, but distinctly immature ones. I imagine this problem stems from two places:

1) Scenes when Tanya’s lolidom is brought up are not the same scenes as the romantic ones, so the problem is not as obvious to the author and

2) Author forgets that “short+small boobs+doesn’t have wrinkles yet” does not actually result in people looking like they are mid-puberty. Without being really creepy, as women age, their breast tissue drops down and to the side, waist/hip/leg ratios change, and the face loses its baby fat, among other things. Writing that references Tanya as looking like a teen comes along with the unfortunate implication that she actually looks like she is still mid-puberty, and Visha...is into that, instead of being someone who is attracted to petite POST pubescent women.

These are all extremely fixable problems. Really, all an author has to do is make Visha acknowledge that it’s weird, and probably try to talk to Tanya about her reservations before she starts trying to seduce her. It’s the handwave that is the issue. For the last/puberty problem, unless there is some reason I probably don’t want to know about that the author only wants to write the relationship if Tanya looks 14, simply describe her as a petite but adult woman, and if you need to use her looking young as a plot point, have her make an effort to adapt her adult characteristics to suit or hope that nobody looks hard enough to tell the difference.

Tanya Being Creepy

While Tanya is physically the junior member of the relationship, mentally, she is the senior, and by a lot. Tanya knows this. While I don’t necessarily think Salaryman is the Earth’s most morally-pure man, I have a high enough opinion of him to think that he was not pursuing college girls when he was like 35. Tanya should also have a moment of thought over this, or the relationship needs to wait until Visha is closer to her late 20s, when she is approaching a similar level of life maturity that Salaryman would have felt was close to his own.

Even if you think that Salaryman’s logical side would have been eroded by his “but I’m a guy, I can’t help it, college girls are hot” side [I’m side-eyeing you], I think it’s very unlikely that living as Tanya, and being on the receiving end of that kind of stuff, wouldn’t make her reconsider her stance on it, at least a little.

I know, I know, Visha’s been to war! She’s not the same as some random college girl in 2020! While this is allowable as a partial justification, because it is true, it ignores a whole lot.

First off, maturity is not a straightforward drive. All parts of you do not mentally mature at the same time. If you want to write early 20s Visha as a mature-enough partner for Tanya, a bit of time needs to be spent on what Visha loses because of it - she never has, and never will, get to be that happy-go-lucky girl. While making fun of young women for being dramatic gossips, obsessing about non-serious things, etc remains a popular sport, thinking that you are doing Visha a favor by taking that time of her life away from her says pretty terrible things about how society values women’s relationships with each other. If you don’t mean for your fanfic to accidentally imply that, it’s something that needs some love & care.

Alternatively, you could write a story in which Visha, while being a competent adult, still gets space to explore her “girly” side. If doing so, you are going to have to make a really strong case for why Tanya is willing to put up with this, as Salaryman does not come off as someone who would judge it a good use of time & effort to be constantly letting his girlfriend rattle off about things he thinks are silly and immature - there’s a lot of other fish in the sea, why not find one that is a competent adult *and* isn’t often talking about things you don’t care about.

The Canonical Setup of Visha & Tanya’s relationship

Opposite Goals

In a nutshell, Tanya is presented as a person that wants to live a safe, boring, and non-notable life, is doing her best to get there, and is constantly failing and being stressed about it because she needs to figure out a new plan. Visha is presented as someone who has major qualms about Tanya as a human being, but has a nigh-worshipful respect for her heroic officer side.

This is a massive, and I mean MASSIVE problem. You absolutely cannot ignore that what makes the characters happy is diametrically opposed to each other. Can you overcome it? Yes, by slowly developing the characters towards a compromise, but you can’t just not acknowledge it and expect me to think this relationship has any hope of leaving both partners happy. Either Tanya never escapes her never-ending stress cycle, or she does, and the entire basis of Visha’s attachment to Tanya disappears.

This can be fixed by: 1) Tanya coming to terms with a new side of herself, one that wants to be that hero. This cannot just be a one-paragraph epiphany. Tanya is shown to hate when she thinks her internal self is being changed by her new experiences and she needs a lot of work to get to a point where she is willing to acknowledge this in herself.

2) Visha has to go through a rocky part where she second-guesses herself - she thought she wanted Tanya, but turns out, Tanya isn’t the person she thought she is? How and why does she decide that she likes the person Tanya has become? This is probably the easier route, but I think runs the risk of having an author have Visha *say* Tanya does all these other good things for her, but never really show it happening.

3) The happiest medium is probably one where Visha *mostly* adapts towards Tanya, so Tanya gets to live a quiet but not too quiet life, and Visha learns to love another side. As Visha is compromising more in this sense, a healthy relationship is going to include Tanya realizing what is happening and deciding to make an effort to appeal to Visha and not just be like “Take me as I am. Or don’t.” and Visha unilaterally decides to accept that.

Why Does Tanya want to be in a relationship with Visha?

Tanya betrays no actual emotional attachment to Visha in the light novels. While you can read in rationalization to the reasons Tanya gives to her actions, she herself does not believe that it is because of an emotional connection.

Canonically, Tanya is portrayed as liking Visha because of how well Visha passes the “usefulness” test. This brings up another MASSIVE problem - does Tanya, in any way, shape, or form, actually like Visha as an individual, or just  her ability to conform to the role Tanya wants her to play?

Look, I don’t need Tanya to be in LOVE with Visha in the way we usually talk about people being in love to believe that Tanya can be in a relationship successfully. I’m fully on board with a portrayal in which Tanya can’t quite summon that level of emotion. However, she needs to like and respect Visha as an individual person, and summon a level of emotion beyond friend with benefits.

IMO, it is really hard to do that without showing Tanya and Visha disagreeing on a major piece of Tanya’s philosophy and Tanya actually listening and responding positively to it, not simply agreeing to disagree because it isn’t worth upsetting her useful sidekick, or whatever. There needs to be character development of both characters - Visha finding it in herself to be comfortable rocking the boat, and Tanya having a compelling enough reason to change something that she has clung to for two lives.

Everyone wants to be a lesbian

While I get it, the Empire is not the exact same as Germany, and yes, I know that Weimar Germany was relatively sexually progressive, it’s really not something that a well-written romance should handwave.

“Weimar Culture” in many ways developed as a result of how WW1 went for Germany. If you have a story where WW1 doesn’t go that way for Germany, gay culture is unlikely to flourish to the same degree.

All that aside, Tanya isn’t someone that is going to easily shrug her shoulders and say “you know, sometimes you need to jeopardize your career for the sake of hot sex/love”. She’s pretty clear on which she prioritizes. A lesbian relationship is not going to help her here, and she’s going to be aware of it. She needs to struggle with that choice.

Visha not struggling to accept herself as a lesbian is also somewhat of an oversight. It’s pretty unlikely that a woman born in her time period would come to terms with that easily. Visha is also never shown being attracted to other women besides Tanya, which carries a weird “I’m only a lesbian for you” vibe that is like a gross parallel of a straight guy wanting a lesbian to be so attracted to him she can’t help it, she wants the D.

And now, we enter the realm of Tanya’s relationship with her identity and sexuality.

Tanya is shown to have mental qualms both about entering a straight or lesbian relationship in her new life. The reasons behind those qualms are not explored at all in the LN, but they should be in a story in which Tanya goes into a relationship.

No matter which path puberty takes her down, there is the issue of Tanya being comfortable having sex as a woman. Even if it is with another woman, it is not going to be particular similar to the way she had sex with women as a man. That type of thing is pretty tied up with our identity. Tanya hates having her internal, I haven’t changed identity threatened, and not being able to give sexual pleasure/needing to receive it differently is the type of thing that is probably going to come along with some emotional reservations on her part.

Again, sexual identity being a part of our overall identity, while Tanya may remain attracted to women, that means her identity is now as a gay person, not a straight person. Given her biases from both growing up in Japan and the state of gay rights in her new life, it would seem atypical that she would consider this a non-issue and it wouldn’t make her question her priorities or the type of person she thought she was.

But...The Sex?

Look, I get it, sometimes you wanna see certain characters bang. We’ve all been there.

While yes, I recognize that many humans make terrible decisions solely in pursuit of sex, and so it’s perfectly realistic to have Tanya and Visha do the same and say that’s why you’re handwaving everything else, it is an extremely lazy storytelling technique, especially since neither character seems likely to go to extremes for it.

Because people focus so much on sex appeal, unfortunately, they use it as a substitute for making a good case for the relationship. Visha/Tanya is so attracted to Tanya/Visha, that now they are willing to undergo character development, because the pulsing loins urge them to. Really?

Do at least some of it first, lay the groundwork for romantic attraction before you slam them with physical attraction. While it often works the opposite direction in real life, that undercuts the romantic side in fictional story-telling.

I also think that because of the focus on their attraction to each other, what ends up missing in all TanyaxVisha fanfics I’ve seen so far is the tension. That makes it boring, I don’t care about it, and the entire reason I don’t care about it is because the choice to handwave the inconvenient facts means there is nothing in the way besides Tanya being a dumbass, which you can only do for so long without it becoming boring.

They are both attracted to each other, and admit it to themselves. Neither sees any real problem with the relationship other than not knowing if the other person likes them, but they aren’t even hung up on it and mostly work on straightforwardly winning the other person.

When in doubt, blame it on The Patriarchy

As far as we know, Tanya isn’t pining for relationship, and never thinks about a romantic relationship from her old life. Combined with other things Tanya says, it is hard to imagine Salaryman ever had a “considering marriage” relationship - more like, he may have felt partnership had some desirable aspects, but probably never was able to compromise on his kind of extreme worldview enough to try to make it work with someone, just figuring he’d find “the one” one day that wasn’t going to make him compromise.

While of course, you should not need to change everything about who you are for a romantic partner to like you, saying “you should like me for me” and then putting in exactly zero effort to do things because you know they are important to your partner, even if they aren’t for you, is not one of the keys to a successful relationship.

While it is not a problem inherent to Tanya & Visha’s relationship like the above sections, it is a problem in all forms of how I’ve seen the relationship written. It fails to answer a fundamental question: WHAT CHANGED?

Why did Tanya want love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last? If she did want it in her last life, why did she successfully find love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last?

Unfortunately, skipping the answer to this question implies that nothing changed. The success is then entirely reliant and Visha, and that brings along with it a really ugly answer.

Visha’s professional I’ll-do-anything-for-you is equated to a personal I’ll-do-anything-for-you, and she very much accepts Tanya for who she is, through all the flaws that are definitely there and that presumably no woman in Salaryman’s life was willing to put up with. Tanya doesn’t have to undergo any character development to be capable of making the relationship work.

This has some really, really unfortunate undertones. It is the very reason why even legal-but-large age difference relationships often aren’t healthy, because the older partner, instead of trying to be someone capable of contributing to the life of someone their own age, decides it’s easier to find someone younger who doesn’t know better and is more willing to put up with their bullshit. That, then, turns into a creepy grooming undertone - you make the less experienced partner think this is normal.

It really isn’t normal or good that Visha should have to put up with a relationship in which she never discovers who she wants to be because she’s so caught up Tanya’s idea of how to live your life. That is borderline emotional abuse, I am sure no one intends it to be there, but without giving some serious treatment to character development, unfortunately, it is.

To me, this has some of the worst overtones of the worst types of male fantasy - My Manic Pixie Dream Girl is completely devoted to me, and instead of emotionally adding to her life and/or our relationship, she is completely fine with me substituting being a Strong Heroic Man who occasionally buys her Nice Things. She demands I change nothing of myself and completely agrees with my Logical Man worldview, no matter what she needs to change about herself to get there. She’s hot, and I get to simultaneously be a straight man and have hot lesbian sex. Even better, because she’s a “strong” woman who is capable in her own right, not only am I physically satisfied, but I get the ego boost of “earning” the submission and subordination of a woman who is better than most people, because she knows I’m better than her.

Honestly, the more I think about it, the grosser it gets, so as far as fanfic goes I just try to ignore it and understand that the authors intention wasn’t to bring along all this baggage. However, to truly write a good Tanya x Visha story that gets away from all these unfortunate implications is a big undertaking, and it’s really impossible for it to make for a compelling side-plot that doesn’t get much screentime.

I’m generally fine with handwaving issues for sideplots, but if Tanya is making decisions because of her relationship with Visha that are now affecting the main plot, it really isn’t something that *should* be handwaved.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[florenceandthemachine]

BROKEN TUMBLR ASKS PART ??: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

@boys-love-or-bust-19507 asked: I LOVE your buddie fics! Can yo write a fic where Buck has a really tough day and Eddie and Chris take care of him?

“Alright, Special Agent Christopher, target is almost in sight. Are you ready for action?”

“Yeah!”

Eddie grinned down to his son, basking in the childlike excitement mirrored back at him for a hot second, knowing that very few things would ever compare to these moments again. He had never seen Chris click as well with anyone as he had Buck—even Carla was a close second to that, not that Eddie was about to tell her that—and honestly, there should have never been any question in his mind as to what Chris would say when Eddie told him Buck needed some help.

His smile only softened as he looked around the house—there was dinner in the oven (courtesy of Carla) and Chris had taken the initiative to pull out some of his favorite board games, stacking them neatly on the counter. Eddie had asked Bobby to rearrange their schedules for the week, and they were both going to be off the next two days, to give Buck plenty of time to recover; Chris had pulled nearly every pillow and blanket they owned into the living room, creating a huge nest with surprising skill.

The past few months had been… rough on the 118, between the bomb, the lawsuit, the accidental robbery, the list just kind of went on and on. As bad as things were for the house, though, they all weighed ten times heavier on Bucks shoulders—not for no reason, but fuck if it felt like the poor boy couldn’t catch a break.

The most recent issue had resurfaced about a month ago. They had just been wrapping up a 24 hour shift, idly shooting the shit, and Chim had mentioned that he and Maddie had a group therapy appointment. The 118 were no stranger to therapy as a whole—Eddie had gone through it, Bobby was still in it, Hen and her old life coach still met once a month after they re-connected.

“Eh, therapy doesn’t really work for me.” Buck had said, kicking his feet up and over Eddie’s lap, a move that Eddie secretly loved even if he wasn’t about to mention it. “But then again, the one session that I actually had wound up with the both of us on her couch before she would clear me to return to service, so…”

You could have heard a pin drop in the moments that followed, and Buck’s easy grin was quickly tightened into something more serious, more nervous, like he wasn’t aware of what he had said.

“Buck…” Hen spoke first, her voice low and slow, like she were talking to an animal about to flee—and if the sudden tightness of Buck’s legs beneath Eddies hands meant anything, it showed how close to the truth that analogy was. “Buck, are you saying that your therapist made you sleep with her before she cleared you?”

Buck looked honest to god confused, and Eddie just wanted to shake him.

“I mean, she didn’t force me, it just kind of… happened. That was during my Buck 1.0 days, though. You guys know I’m better than that now, Buck 2.0 is here to stay. Right? You… You guys know I’m better now, right?”

“Buck, he, no.” Eddie spoke now, his hand gently squeezing Buck’s good leg, shaking his head slowly. “If I’m understanding this, that is not on you. She took advantage of you like that, that’s… that ain’t right.” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. Before he could speak again, offer some reassuring words, Bobby spoke up, his face tight with concern.

“Buck, why didn’t you tell any of us about that?”

Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

Eddie felt Buck tense up like a snapped rubber band before he pulled himself back into an upright position, and though he missed the warmth across his lap, he was far more concerned with bracing for whatever was about to happen. Buck snorted, shaking his head, his voice clipped as he stood up, a sure sign he was in defensive mode. “Bobby, you had fired me the week before for… my indiscretions while in uniform. Forgive me if I didn’t feel like I wanted to risk my job again.”

“Buck, hang on, I didn’t mean—Buck, come back! Eddie!”

Buck had turned on his heel and almost ran out of the loft, and Eddie was quick on his tail, keeping a safe distance until they were both in the locker room. Buck whirled on him when the door closed, the anger drained out of his face, leaving a shell of panic in its place.

“Eddie, cmon, you know that I’m not like that anymore, right? I don’t do that! I’m good, I promise, I—“

Any other words were drowned out when Eddie pulled him into a hug—a risky move in and of itself, but he knew that Buck was one of the most tactile (and touch starved) people on the planet. His gamble paid off, thankfully; he immediately felt Buck’s arms encircle him, body going lax against his chest. “Buck, no one is blaming you. I’m sorry that it might seem that way. I wasn’t even here for Buck 1.0 but I still know that was not your fault, okay?”

Eddie paused, waiting until he got a muffled sound out of Buck to pull back from the hug, looking at him dead in the eye.

“Listen… Buck, I really think you should report this. She’s a doctor, she can’t just continue on like that. What she did to you wasn’t just bad, or wrong, it was illegal.”

--

In the end, five other men and two women had stepped forward after Buck made his complaint. Two cops, four firefighters, and one paramedic, all with similar stories and similar outcomes.

The only good thing about it was because they were all state employees, they were able to opt for a closed door hearing, investigation, and trial.

Buck had spent the day behind closed doors, giving his statement to a camera, then to the prosecutor, then in a closed courtroom, in front of a jury, a judge, and a very unhappy looking Dr Wells… well, Ms. Wells, now that she had her license revoked.

Eddie knew that a lot had happened, but he also knew Buck and knew that the last thing Buck would want to do all day would be continue to talk about it; so between he and Special Agent Christopher, Eddie felt sure they had a way to keep Buck’s mind far from the past all night long.

“Target inbound!”

Eddie shook away his thoughts as he heard Chris’ little voice wavering with excitement—sure enough, Buck’s Jeep had parked out front, and while they were both fully obvious from the curtains, Eddie still turned his head and made a big shushing gesture to Chris, who started to giggle.

Once they heard Buck’s key turning in the lock (yeah, Eddie had given him a key, so what?) they both pulled back, and Eddie almost burst out laughing at the faux look of shock on Buck’s face when he and Chris both yelled “surprise!”

The shock may have been fake, but there was no pretending when Buck smiled at them, the sheer joy on his face making Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. He looked a little tired around the eyes, maybe, but he was glad that Buck was still Buck, and that this hopefully wouldn’t be weighing on him for much longer.

Chris was off, immediately, talking a mile a minute while he started to set up one of his favorite board games, and Eddie had to smiles he took Buck’s coat, resolutely ignoring how good the other male really looked in a suit. “Sorry. The only way I could really get him on board without telling him the full details was telling him you needed a surprise party to make you feel better.”

Buck put his hand up on Eddie’s shoulder, and while Eddie could have basked happily in the glow from his smile for an age and a half, he lit up like the Fourth of July when Buck leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Fully aware he looked like a love struck teenager, Eddie rose a hand to his cheek when Buck pulled away, the smile on his lips shocked but pleased all at once. “What was that for?”

“For this. This is perfect, Eddie. Thank you for… well, just thanks.”

--

They had made it a few rounds into whatever the card game that Chris had picked out—Eddie still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it, but Chris and Buck seemed to be having a good time—when the oven chirped, signaling the start of dinner; and just like that, the game was forgotten. Chris basically launched out of his chair and into the living room, announcing that it was Movie Time, and far be it for Buck or Eddie to disagree with him.

Eddie scooped out some of the baked pasta in to three different bowls while Buck raided the pantry for movie snacks, and by the time that they made it to the living room, Chris was 90% buried in blankets and pillows on the floor.

It wasn’t easy to get settled in behind him, but by the opening credits to The Incredibles were rolling, Eddie and Buck were wedged in behind Christopher in the blanket pile, relaxing against the couch, snacks disbursed between them. Chris was lost to the world outside of the movie, but Eddie could almost feel Buck tensing up beside him, winding himself back up like a spring, and well... that wouldn’t do at all.

It was amazing how much they could say without saying anything at all. Eddie raised one of his arms and gave Buck an expectant look, to which Buck shook his head, looking at Eddie like he was crazy (and blushing too, and wow, that was a treat). Eddie only rose a brow, gesturing to his now open side, and Buck stared at him, before giving up with a sigh, slowly rearranging himself as to not disturb Chris.

He slotted himself in against Eddie’s side like he fit there, and Eddie felt more than just a smug sense of victory as he put his arm around Buck, tugging him closer, gently leaning their heads together. Once Buck started to relax, he leaned in—knowing full well that Buck’s attention was anywhere but the movie—and kissed his temple, right above his birthmark.

“You did a really hard thing today, and it brought a lot of good into the world. I’m really, really proud of you, Buck.”

Buck didn’t respond—not verbally, anyway, but Eddie could feel the thousand degree stare Buck gave him when he turned his head, like he was going to stare directly into Eddies soul, search for any sign he was being sarcastic, or patronizing, not that Eddie cared. He was being completely honest, and he could see Buck’s expression falter as he realized that.

Eddie’s smile only grew as Buck scanned over his face again, though it was his turn to look surprised when Buck pulled a hand up to rest against Eddie’s cheek. Eddie leaned into it instinctively as he felt his eyes half lid, because Buck was moving again, pulling himself closer, and it was all Eddie could do to remain perfectly still, give Buck the chance to move closer or pull away, even if he wanted to flip them over right now and kiss Buck within an inch of his life.

As it was, their first kiss was perfect—Buck in his arms, Chris buried in blankets, and Edna Mode in the background. And even if the road to get there was rough, Eddie wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

[mostweakhamlets]

genuine question: why is staged cringe?

I want to preface this by saying that I loved Staged initially. I thought it was a super cool concept with actors I’m fans of. I still think that it is a really cool concept! I think it’s great that these actors hatched this idea of acting from home over video chat. I love it when people are experimental. I love it when people break the status quo with art. 

However, I think that this is one of the downfalls with Staged. There’s so much potential there, and you really notice how much of that was squandered when you start noticing the things about the show that don’t sit right with you. At least, that’s how I felt. 

It really is a matter of, “I feel like this show aged poorly. For the love of God, make series two different.”

I have a lot to say about this, so I’ll put it under the cut and in sections haha

Superwomen

This was my biggest peeve with Staged. I felt like the women (mostly Anna and Georgia) couldn’t just exist. It felt so unnatural and so forced. Like “Look, these women are just any women.” 

I know that Georgia Tennant already has this sort of public image of being this super productive mom (which I have more feelings about but won’t go into it here). I think that’s awesome! But Staged hammed that up. I know that it was supposed be a satire version of her, but come on. She’s Supermom to the point that her husband is incompetent? That he really can’t make dinner for his own children? That he has to just reheat something she made that week? 

We see Georgia as the perfect woman—helps a friend with childbirth, writes a book, she apparently does all the cooking and cleaning (judging by how surprised she looks when she notices all the laundry folded and put away when she returns from the childbirth), and is the perfect mom and wife. And I know that she had little screentime, but why couldn’t we see any actual flaws? Why does she have to be Supermom every time we see her while her husband seemingly dicks around on Zoom all day? 

And then there’s Anna. She’s much more private than Georgia is irl, so she doesn’t already have this crafted public persona. We see less of her in Staged. The Tennants have more of a story than she and Michael do. And with that time, they really made sure to make… smart. I guess you could call it that. 

It felt like there was an attempt to make her smart when she had all this information about—what was it? Italian fascism?—on the top of her head. But it definitely felt “smart” in the way that men often think people are “smart.” They can just regurgitate facts rather than actually say anything constructive. It felt like she had just played Trivial Pursuit a lot or binged watched every single episode of QI. I’ve no idea why they felt the need to just awkwardly shoehorn that in when there are so many other ways to show that a woman is intelligent. 

It makes me wonder what the creative team thinks of women—at what point is a woman valuable in front of a camera? Could a character like me, who doesn’t know a lot of trivia or isn’t an exceptional cook or can be a birthing partner, earn screentime in a production by these men? Are women allowed to be flawed beyond “Haha yeah I’m eating cake while watching yoga videos” and agreeing to put recycling in someone else’s bin? 

Is there an oversaturation of the male ego in Staged? Kinda. It was all about three men’s shit show while girlfriends and wives stood in the background as flawless house partners. It feels like that bland brand of feminism that’s like, “Women can do anything! And that includes compensating for their male partner’s shortcomings!” 

Covid Insensitivities  

Back in March, we were all different people! We thought we saw a light at the end of the tunnel. We were watching TikToks and staying home and supporting essential workers. But things got very much worse. As an American, I’m terrified of what’s going to happen in my country alone. Much of the world has been hit hard, and government leaders all over are proving to be incompetent. 

But early summer/late spring was a different time. And when they filmed Staged, they had a Covid subplot with Michael’s neighbor. At the time, it felt fine. But now it feels icky, in my opinion. It feels wrong for rich people, safe in their homes, to craft a storyline where a fictional woman has Covid, and “It really affects me, Michael Sheen. I’m worried about this.” 

At the time, I felt like, “Is this really the angle they should have taken with such a serious global issue?” And now I feel like, “This is definitely not a subplot they should have gone with. Oh my God, I physically cannot watch Michael Sheen fake crying while on the phone with a doctor.” 

Their hearts were probably in the right place, but it aged terribly. I really hope that they don’t return to subplots like that in series two.

Which brings me to my next point: 

The Oh So Relatable Lives of Celebrities

The Covid-neighbor subplot felt wrong for another reason: it felt like a misguided attempt to look relatable to an audience who is probably a bit more exposed to the virus than these people sitting in their massive homes. 

I won’t go into this much because I don’t see it as a major issue. Again, at the time it felt fine. We thought we were all in this together, and these rich people really did get the common struggles: dealing with childcare, being cooped inside all day, etc. 

But again, things changed. 

I’m honestly tired (and a bit bitter) of seeing rich people trying to pose as having the same set of problems the rest of us do right now. Sure, it must be hard to raise five kids right now. But when this is over, the Tennants get their nanny back irl. Yes, it’s hard to stay inside all day with little outlets. But Michael Sheen irl 1) has actually been acting quite a bit during this, as we’ve seen now, with plenty of press and 2) has a huge garden and a magical little park he could always walk to. 

I can’t help but feel bitter as I sit in debt, unemployed, watching very well-off actors get irritable over lockdown. 

In General 

In general, Staged was fun at the time. It was cute, and I enjoyed watching it when it came out. It was during the “hopeful” stage of the pandemic, as I like to call it. Loans payments and rent payments were paused. Eviction was illegal. People who could, stayed home and watched TikToks. But now we’re in a different stage. 

A lot has happened, and a lot of places are refusing to shut down states/countries again for the sake of the economy. People are starting to realize how little their individual livelihoods matter to our governments. There are tense elections all over the world. There’s no relief being provided for people who desperately need it. 

I think that the sort of quirky Covid stories like Staged aren’t going to be necessarily enjoyable right now. Really, the last thing I want to see is rich people pretending like they’re struggling in their huge homes and with their presumably unlimited resources. 

I’m really holding my breath with series two. I hope that they go in a different direction than they did last time, or it’ll be a completely tone-deaf show to me. 

Like I said, there is so much you can do with a setup like Staged, but I think that they dropped the ball so many times that it just feels like someone else should take over this format. 

I’d completely understand if people disagree with me. These are just my criticisms of the show.

[xlady-saya]

this red is for you [fic]

Relationships: aaron/katelyn, andrew/neil

Summary: Katelyn never considered herself capable of doling out violence.

It has always been a far away thought, dampened by college courses and late night dates with her boyfriend. She lives a stereotypical life, despite everything she's been through with Aaron. Aside from her growing connection with the notoriously troublesome Foxes, nothing much about her life has changed.

Even then, she's learning she's still able to surprise herself. When Katelyn witnesses Neil defending Andrew, her own protective rage rears its head, ready to be explored.

And maybe that's a good thing.

Tags: katelyn pov, discussions of tilda/past abuse, fluff, protective neil, protective katelyn

Read on ao3! 

The sound of a pipe shattering on the ground dislodges something inside Katelyn; it's unexpected, but not entirely unfamiliar. She'd felt the inklings of this...feeling during Aaron's trial, when he cried in her arms, and even back when she first heard the name Tilda.

She'd never been able to coax it fully out into the light, but she supposes it had to happen eventually. Maybe she only sees it now because she's stepped too far into the dark.

And of course, Neil is the spark to ignite the flames of realization.

The look in Neil's eyes is nothing short of menacing, like the feeling that comes from being cornered, or from realizing you're in danger a little too late to do anything about it. It stops Katelyn in an instant, her hair standing on end.

See, Katelyn is not deluded enough to think she exists in a safe world. She's especially not deluded enough to think she surrounds herself with safe people either.

That's just how it worked out, and at this point she's so deep in the fox den she couldn't fathom clawing her way out. It's cozy here anyways...warm...

But from other people's points of view, she should've never been the type to venture here. She knows it's easy to label her as naive, or in over her head. She's, by all definitions, a good girl. Good girl. Whatever that means.

It's funny—after spending such a long time around her boyfriend and his family, she's not sure the concepts of good and bad can ever be so straightforward in her mind again.

But she still gets called that when she visits home. That always made her embarrassed; it's how the people at church referred to her, how her mother's friends gushed over her.

And she took it with a smile, because well, what else was there to do? It became a broken record statement, reiterated so many times she hardly noticed. But it made her parents happy, and it had gotten her far in life.

Perfect grades, a put together family, and a cheeriness that couldn't be beaten out of her. It's a brand of resilience that's often overlooked, but she's never resented the judgement passed on her for it. She's well aware of the checklists people run through when they see her; it's second nature to cross off every box to match her up with the stereotype. Even Aaron did it, when they first met.

And that's fine.

She's never had a problem occupying those boxes in people's minds, because in her own, she always ran through an infinite plane with no walls, no end.

It's a privileged way of thinking, and a little ridiculous, but she's proud that she's never become trapped by those boxes in her own head. She's happy Aaron now sees the real her, a fully fleshed out person who defied everything Aaron expected of her.

She's proud of that, but if she's being honest, she never had any doubts when it came to the two of them.

The truth is she's always done whatever she wanted, and she's never allowed herself to be ruled by expectations. She walks her own path, and she'll continue to do so, it's just...

For a long time, everything she wanted just so happened to fall in line with what everyone else wanted, so no one ever thought to notice how headstrong and stubborn she could truly be. How brave she could be in the face of a world she now knows can be hideous.

Get good grades, make friends, pick a successful field of study. No problem. Katelyn loves being a cheerleader, and she's dreamed of being a physician since middle school. She likes being nice, and positive. She doesn't care that she can't shut up.

It had all fallen into place, it had all equaled good girl.

Until Aaron, until everything that came with him.

And see, for a lot of people that's an issue, it doesn't compute. Someone like Katelyn, who in their eyes has followed all the rules, is not supposed to be with someone like Aaron, with their perception of him.

Because he follows no rules; there's blood on his hands and bruises on his skin which will never fade. There's dulled track marks and a broken family, barely mended. He is not what anyone wanted for her.

But Katelyn...she wouldn't trade this life with him for anything. That feeling, that love, singes so deep Katelyn sometimes thinks her autopsy will show third degree burns on every part of her, charred into the bone and marrow.

And honestly, (and not to be rude), fuck those people. At the end of the day she knows Aaron, not them. It had not been an accident, an unfortunate case of 'can't help who you love,' and she hates when it's seen that way.

She'd embraced everything, because he'd done the same for her. And not just Aaron, but the Foxes accepted her too.

For the entire summer leading up to her freshman year and all the way through her schooling, she's heard the rumors, the whispers. The Foxes are notorious for their roughness, their almost animalistic drive to fight through blood and bone to survive. They have records, and a penchant for violence. They've lived through so much.

Unspeakable, brutal horrors. They still keep Katelyn up at night sometimes, holding Aaron so close to her he wakes up with a start. That's the real naive part of her, the part Andrew might scoff or glare at her for.

She doesn't care; no one deserves the things the Foxes went through. Anyone who tries to disagree with her goes immediately on her shit list.

Because even Andrew, with his initial hatred of her, sees what others do not. The Foxes protect their own, and they accept those who lend a hand to do the same. They'd welcomed her because of her love for Aaron, and eventually because of her love for his family. For all of them.

So again, Katelyn knows she doesn't run with a safe crowd.

But they make her feel safe, and accepted, and that's always what has mattered most to her.

That being said, as much as she's part of them, she's not one of them. She never believed she had that edge, that ruthlessness and impulsivity which could make her snap in the blink of an eye.

She was naive about that too, it seems.

The end of the pipe breaks off the moment Neil strikes it against the nearest railing, and before Katelyn can so much as blink, he has it against the football player's throat.

The rusted piece of metal is sharp and ribbed at the edge now, at the part closest to the vulnerable expanse of the player's neck. Katelyn is good at anatomy, better than Aaron. She knows exactly where the jugular is, and she's sure Neil does too. He can't be that precise on accident.

Katelyn's limbs lock up, not out of fear or concern, but out of pure shock. They're behind the gym, no one else around due to the late hour. The forgotten pieces of the school's construction project are strewn around the back entrance, and well...that explains where Neil got the pipe.

Katelyn hadn't even noticed, hadn't even comprehended Neil's sharp movements until the pipe was already in his hand. Neil's fast, but this isn't the normal agility, the sprints he employs on the Exy court.

This was unadulterated instinct, and the look in his eyes...

Television doesn't do it justice, but it's there. It's murder, packaged prettily in pools of blue. The football player doesn't dare to move his hands even in surrender— they're pinned at his side and locked up so hard, Katelyn's own muscles ache. He's trembling up at Neil, whose cleat is pressed firmly into his sternum. "H-hey man, calm down, I didn't mean--"

He wheezes next, and Katelyn realizes Neil must be pressing harder with each breath.

She doesn't move, doesn't even think to. At some point she dropped her gym bag, and shivers at the mood shift. Just a few minutes ago, Neil was laughing in that reserved way of his, trying to mimic Katelyn's cheer moves while she snapped pictures.

Because Andrew would appreciate them, deep down, she thought.

She wonders if Andrew would appreciate this Neil too, the one who is now devoid of any emotion. His face is a blank slate, ire bleeding through the edges.

Katelyn has no idea what the football player said as he passed them, and she's glad she didn't. All she heard was the clipped mumble, Andrew's name.

And then Neil was no longer next to her.

She can only guess how ugly the statement was, and that's the first thing that scares her about herself. She has no desire to stop Neil, and she knows deep down she won't.

It's the first crack in her delusion.

"You didn't mean it?" Neil states, barely questioning. His voice walks the line of a whisper, and his head tilt reminds Katelyn more of a rabid dog than a fox for a moment. Like Neil is gauging what angle is best to go for the throat. "Are you saying that because I could kill you right now, or do you always have changes of heart at such convenient times?"

The football player pales, but even he doesn't truly know. Despite all of Neil's history coming out to the general public, he can't possibly know how serious Neil is.

But Katelyn does, and she wraps her arms around herself from the chill. Still, she does nothing.

It's more fascinating than anything to her; Neil's impulsive arguments are always loud, full of sass, snarky...

This is not that.

Neil presses the pipe securely into the man's flesh, and doesn't look surprised when that's the moment the pleading starts. "Wait, ple--"

That, Neil flinches at. "Shut up," he says, quietly, but it's loud in the narrow space. Katelyn even steps back from the force of it. And oh, she gets it, and sadness unfurls in her chest. "Just shut up."

Then, it happens.

Now, Katelyn has never actually seen Neil do this. She's only heard stories from Aaron. To her, Neil's smile is a reserved, rare thing, but sweet nonetheless. It's always a win when she can cause one—even if it’s the wry, sardonic kind. They make her feel accomplished, happy.

Neil's smile now is one Katelyn hopes to never see again. It's so slow, it almost reminds her of a mask; the jagged teeth don't quite fit together. She's heard the rumors of the Butcher's Smile, and she's seen Neil cringe every time.

But in her mind, that's all bullshit; this is all Neil's rage, cold and cutting. It could never belong to anyone else.

Neil takes his leg off the player's chest, dropping down so they're eye level. He takes the pipe away, and the football player doesn't move, doesn't do anything. It's arrogant, in a way; Neil is very clearly saying he can hinder this man with this look alone, this single threat.

Neil's smile grows. "Now listen, okay? You can trade insults with me all day, I don't give half a shit. But don't you ever fucking talk to me about Andrew again. Do you understand me?"

Katelyn winces at the same moment the football player jumps away from Neil. Well, if he doesn't understand from that, there's no getting through to him.

He stumbles as he runs away, kicking over some stray pipes in the process as he calls back over his shoulder. "Freak!"

Neil snorts as he stands, throwing the pipe with disinterest to the side. "How original."

And just like that, a switch is flipped. Neil turns back to her, hands in his hoodie, and the traces of the forbidden smile are wiped away as he drags a hand over his face to correct the muscles there. Then it's back to his neutral facade, with a dash of wariness mixed in as he approaches her.

She hasn't moved.

"Katelyn." Neil snaps his fingers in front of her face, and Katelyn glares as she bats his hand away.

Her other hand flies to her chest, trying to tamper down the beating of her heart. She knows Neil is protective, that Andrew is too. It's obvious, given how they are, but that...that was—

"How...you—" she begins, but can't find the words. She huffs, and watches as Neil picks up her duffel and shoves it into her arms without care.

He's never been particularly gentle, and Katelyn's always appreciated it. Neil's not a liar anymore, though he's a damn good one. He'll give her his genuine reactions, no matter how callous they are.

"Yes," he agrees, which makes her glare harder. The only thing that gives her some satisfaction is the light blush on his face. Interesting. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"But...why?" she tries, dropping her bag again. Neil tracks it, in that infuriating way he always does. In retaliation, Katelyn snaps right in his face until he's staring at her again, just as done as he looks when she talks about The Bachelor. "If you can protect yourself like that, why...?"

Why does everyone talk about Neil like he can barely throw a punch? In fact, Katelyn's pretty sure everyone thinks he's got an addiction to starting fights with no way of winning them.

That’s quite obviously not the case.

But Neil just shrugs, shouldering Katelyn's bag for her. Neil fidgets then, shifting his weight, and his blush grows. "I like when Andrew protects me," he whispers, staring at his shoes. It's such a sweet, innocent confession, Katelyn nearly can't believe it.

But in reality, and just from seeing Neil's soft smile as he thinks of Andrew, she totally can.

This piece of work...

Katelyn huffs, throwing her hands up. "That's a lot of faith to put in someone."

It gets her the rise she wants. Neil glares at her, pouting. "Andrew might not have every fighting skill in the book but he's strong," he says, head held high. They're the same height, so it barely works. "And he's powered by pure force of will. It doesn't matter who he's fighting, or how bad he's hurt, Andrew will do significant damage."

Katelyn waves him off, taking her bag back. She doesn't doubt it; she was almost on the receiving end of such damage, and Neil was a witness.

She thinks that's the end of it when Neil turns around to grab his own bag, but something uneasy and restless still churns inside her. She's not sure why it's such a catalyst, but she feels the seams of something splitting open.

Neil hadn't even hesitated to go on the offensive for Andrew, something he usually avoids. A situation he'd normally attack verbally collided with the urge for bloodshed, the protective instinct spiking in him until it overflowed.

Like there was no choice, no other decision to make.

Can the need to protect really be so strong, the consequences of murder don't even matter?

Oh, no, no. She throws that thought out right away, admonishing herself for her own stupidity. The answer is yes—a deafening, resounding yes. She thinks of a car crash, a bloody exy racquet.

In her mind, in the smallest, darkest corners...she always regarded those moments as essential.

The churning in her stomach gets worse; it feels wrong, and ugly, to say certain people deserve to die. She's always been taught that wishing that level of ill on someone was a sin itself, but here she is, thinking it anyways.

Because they did deserve to die. She shudders, the guilt immense, because she doesn't feel bad but she knows she should.

And then it becomes so clear what her hang up is.

Would she ever do that? Could she spill blood for Aaron, and wipe her hands afterwards? Would she be alright, just knowing she'd kept him safe?

The answer is yelling, clawing to break through, but she stuffs it down. She's a coward sometimes; she doesn't know how to handle the reality of that answer.

Neil's voice snaps her out of it, but in typical Neil fashion, he rips the problem open all the way so she can see it. So she can't escape it.

"Andrew doesn't ever protect himself against words. Boundaries, lines...he knows how to handle those. But he doesn't care what people say, no matter how putrid the shit out of their mouths is," Neil says when he turns back to her, half shrouded. There's a tremble in his voice, one only rage can produce. There's not an ounce of doubt in his face. "So I will."

'I will fight the world for this person.'

Katelyn knows the feeling well. Too well, even. It terrifies her, how much she understands. Her hand clenches around her heart, and she thinks of how that feeling surged whenever Aaron cried in her arms after the trial. Whenever she heard the rumors, the whispers...

She would just see red, splashed on walls in flashes, painted in thick stripes. And she clamped that feeling down, tamed it into something nicer and prettier. She applied it in other ways, in sharp glares and acts of affection. Giving Aaron what he deserves: unconditional love, instead of heavy hands and insults.

She disguised the wild dog inside her, too. Good girl.

But when Neil smirks at her, the lingering ghost of that smile hidden beneath, it lets the beast loose.

"I know what everyone thinks of Andrew, and they're right. He can be dangerous when it's required," Neil hums, fond and icy all at once. "But believe me, when it comes down to it, I'm the scary one."

Even if no one else realizes it, Katelyn will never doubt that again. She feels the ring of thorns around her throat, pressing tighter as she forces out the question. She needs to know, or she needs to hear it.

"You'd kill?" Katelyn asks, small and childish. It's not even a complete question, but Neil's eyes darken enough for her to know he get its. You'd kill for him? For the person you love...

Neil gives her that expression—not judging, but slightly amused. "Wouldn't you?"

It knocks the air out of her, and well...she has no response to that yet. Not one she's willing to speak aloud. But there's no use now; her mind is latched onto it.

Neil doesn't give her a chance to respond before he starts walking away, trusting her to either catch up or be left behind. But then he stops, shoulders tense. It's enough to snap Katelyn out of her crisis momentarily, especially when Neil turns around with an almost sheepish look on his face. The flush is back, painting his scarred cheeks with a different red than the one behind Katelyn's eyes.

"Uh, Katelyn, do you think you could maybe keep this to yourself?" Neil says, looking behind him as if another person will materialize out of nowhere. "Like...don't tell Andrew."

Katelyn's mouth opens and closes too many times for her to count, before she settles on a majestic: "Huh?"

Neil winces, kicking the gravel at his feet. She was always under the impression that Neil and Andrew don't keep anything from each other. Neil seems to know this, and he deflates even more. "It's just...it's not that big of a secret, okay? It's embarrassing is all!"

And Katelyn can't help it: she laughs, long and borderline hysterical. It's probably mixed with relief after seeing Neil nearly kill a man, but whatever, it's a release nonetheless.

She slides up to Neil, pausing to give him time to move away, but he simply nods. She throws her arms around his shoulders, dragging him forward. She has a lot to think about, but for now...their boyfriends are probably waiting. "Don't worry, I got you."

Neil's smile is rueful. "I owe you one."

Katelyn tenses up, and is already shaking her head. No, no. She and Andrew might not be best friends yet, but she knows enough to know Neil shouldn't have to owe her anything if she wants to escape the blond's wrath. "Uh, no, Neil, really it's--"

"Believe me, Katelyn," Neil interrupts, hip checking her gently. "It's not something I give out often. Take it. Trust me."

So Katelyn doesn't question it. She's sure it'll come in handy, one of these days.

She laughs again, her charm bracelet jingling against her wrist. It reminds her of what's important. Her crisis could be worse, and there's at least one thing she knows for sure.

It's founded in love.

She'll figure it out, because the beast running free gives her no choice. Even knowing that, she sleeps peacefully later that night, bundled into Aaron's side, and the red behind her eyes waits for a new day to paint with vengeance.

--

However, she comes to find that such a passionate color doesn't wash out so easily. It's always there, whether as a sheen or in all its vibrance.

She's lying naked in her bed with Aaron staring at the smooth expanse of her abdomen; there's a satisfied ache deep and heavy in her bones, and when she stretches her joints pop loud enough to make Aaron smirk. She can vaguely remember a time where she wasn't able to feel so comfortable being completely bare in front of him. There was a pressure to be desirable, to angle herself a certain way and be covered quickly after. It was shared, mutual, their hyperawareness of one another. That time gets murkier and murkier with each passing day, and she smiles at the ticklish feeling of Aaron's fingers grazing her skin. Her roommates are out for the weekend, and she's doing that thing where she hogs all the blankets but only covers her legs. She runs hot, go figure, but the blanket is too cozy to not use. It's one of those fancy, overhyped crochet quilts—a gift from Nicky for her birthday.

It's a deep burgundy color, and she might scoff if it weren't for the thoughts in her head. This feeling here, she knows, is the purest definition of contentment. Despite her sweaty skin and dry hands, the heaviness to her limbs...

She can't imagine being without it, or having it stripped away. She wouldn't let that happen.

She suppresses the huff that threatens to escape her. Closing her eyes briefly, she turns over; her back protests, and Aaron lazily wipes the frizzy hair from her forehead. He's not even looking at her when she opens her eyes, face tired and staring into the void that is the mole on her hip. He just...he knows where she is, where her face is; Aaron touches her because he loves to, and there's no ulterior motive. Katelyn smiles brighter, because she doubts he's even aware he did it.

But the gentle touch is so familiar, nurturing in ways Aaron never received himself. But he learned them, and he gives his 110% into applying them.

And oh, Katelyn's hands fist into the deep red fabric; sometimes a feeling is so overwhelming she can't help but feel her eyes get watery, and she doesn't even know why. She's not sure it's safe to touch Aaron when she's this full of anger, choked up with wariness for the world around them.

She doesn't want to be like her, but when she finally works up the courage to brush her hand through Aaron's hair, the touch is featherlight. Soft.

Safe here, in her arms.

Her lower lip trembles, and she scolds herself for it. She's not good at holding back tears, at holding back anything. Her fingers graze the scar on Aaron's scalp, almost undetectable with his blond hair. She's memorized the feel of it though, the groove where something hit him too hard.

She pulls her hand away with a shaky breath, and Aaron's eyes finally snap up to meet her. They bore into her, his brow furrowing before widening in panic once he sees the tears in her eyes.

It's the last straw for her, he cares so much it shreds her composure. Aaron, you didn't deserve what happened. I wish I had been there, I wish I could've--

'There's no deserve, there just is.'

Andrew's words had been something she brushed off on a particularly awkward double date, back when their care ride was nothing but an impossible fantasy.

But again, she has to disagree.

What is she supposed to do about this?

For the first time, she falls into a box. She's a good girl, right? She's not supposed to think about blood and flesh, of bashing in the faces of people who hurt Aaron. Past, present, future. Doesn't matter, they'd all deserve it.

"Kate, what is it?" Aaron asks, sitting up to drape himself over her. His eyes flit over her, moving the blanket aside. She's not sure why, but it's always Aaron's first instinct to look for signs of violence. No, scratch that. She knows why. She swallows down the lump in her throat with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and tilts Aaron's chin until he's staring right at her again. Gold eyes, flecks of green...

"I'm just...happy you're here with me," she whispers, pressing her nose to his cheek. It's stupid, but she tries to press the feeling into him. She means it. She's never meant anything so strongly. He lets her, falling back into bed and opening his arms so she can move closer. The medical ID bracelet she gifted him slides down his wrist; it had been a gag gift at first, a play on their majors and the fact Katelyn wanted them to have matching jewelry. It was a hint, a push so he'd buy something subtle instead, a ring or chain maybe...

Aaron never liked to stand out, to be flashy. But he had rolled with the gift completely, and from the moment he clipped it on, she'd only seen him remove it for Exy.

She sniffles again, grabbing his wrist and keeping her hand there, feeling his pulse. Alive, breathing.

"Aaron..." she says, before she can take the urge and bottle it back up. She looks right at him, trying to communicate as much of the heat as she can. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you, I swear."

It comes out more pathetic than she intended; it's worse than the randomness. What is she supposed to do in the face of a threat? She's never had to deal with one. She's a short college student who has never had to throw a punch, has never thought about it before. But still...but still, she'd do whatever she could; she'd bite and thrash until she couldn't anymore.

Because Aaron would do the same for her, because maybe that feeling is...normal, when it comes to loving someone. And she loves, she loves so much it apparently still has the ability to turn her world upside down.

Aaron's eyes widen, but thankfully he doesn't ask. She likes to think it's because she said it confidently enough he wouldn't dream of questioning it, but she smiles wider from the truth. Sometimes Aaron doesn't get it and doesn't know where to start; she would giggle, if she wasn't so close to sobbing. Aaron can be slow, can take a few days to catch up. But he will, and hopefully by then she can better explain it.

She's past questioning why the feeling exists at all. She's proud of it.

So instead of asking, Aaron nods, slow and sure. He trusts her, he believes her, and Katelyn lets a few tears wet Aaron's shoulder when he pulls her in tight. "Come here," he says when she hesitates, like she wants to make sure it's alright, and he accepts all of her. She melts against him, pouring every unspoken promise into the embrace. Katelyn knows Aaron can't read her mind, but it doesn't stop him from kissing her forehead, from whispering: "I know that, I know."

And Katelyn truly hopes he does.

--

The first time she and Aaron fought, it was something insignificant.

Katelyn can barely remember it now, something trivial like class schedules or a project. It seems so far away, and it’s ridiculous to care about something so silly, but they're only human. Frustrations had been high, and it had felt almost like a rite of passage.

'You aren't in a real relationship if you don't argue,' her father had told her once. She now knows that's mostly bullshit people tell themselves so they can justify their screaming matches.

Disagreements yes, bickering, disgruntlement...

Normal; so, in a way, it was a milestone, but not in the way her parents would’ve thought. The fight revealed more things to learn about each other, to make sure and be considerate of.

I don't like when you do this.

I appreciated this.

Please be more aware of this other thing.

I know this was unavoidable, but it still bothered me.

In hindsight, that's what all those little quarrels got her: experience, patience.

But in the moment, she'd just been annoyed. Aaron mumbled something under his breath when she turned away, and she'd been too petty to let it go.

Their 'fight' had been normal, until it wasn't.

Katelyn heard the clipped tone and turned around sharply, jaw clenched, and took a deliberate step toward him to tell him exactly how rude he was being.

And Aaron flinched.

Full body, he moved back a step, expecting a strike. They'd both frozen once they realized; it had been an instinctual movement, and guilt clouded Aaron's eyes a second later. But Katelyn had seen it; there had been this brief flash of terror there, but not surprise.

Like being slapped across the face would've been completely acceptable. The old normal.

Even if it had just been a second, Aaron had been afraid. Of her. Or some remnant of a ghost always lurking in the corner of Aaron's life.

She's not sure, but it didn't matter.

Katelyn remembers the irritation flooding right out of her, her body deflating as Aaron tried to offer up some kind of apology. By that point in time, Katelyn knew enough about Tilda. They'd been at the stage where confiding in each other was easy, but up until that point her rage over it had been quite shallow. It was in the past, Tilda was gone. Why linger on something painful?

She hadn't seen the effects, but here they were, staring her down.

That day, Katelyn decided she'd never despised someone more in her entire life, and probably never would again. Respect for the dead and all that...something she'd believed in before that no longer applied.

Whatever Aaron was trying to apologize for, she didn't care. She swept him up in her arms until all his weight collapsed onto her, and she let him sob into her shoulder. They were both sorry for different things, maybe things they shouldn't have been. The fight from moments before became inconsequential, and they both owned up to their faults in it.

They'd even laughed through their tears, nonsense about how they'd both just retake the class, or how the professor sucked anyways. Katelyn cried through the night, and probably looked unrecognizable in the morning with her puffy eyes and gnawed lip.

Aaron had helped put spoons in the freezer to help the swelling go down, probably the sloppiest pre-med care he'd ever done, because they had no ice packs.

And naturally, they'd talked about the rest. They exhausted the topic until Katelyn made sure Aaron knew...

"I would never hurt you," she whispered, partly to herself. A promise, an oath.

"I know you wouldn't."

Her eyes were ablaze when she looked at him again. "You never deserved to be hurt."

That one hadn't gotten her a response, but she kept repeating it. She'd keep repeating it.

The night had passed, fading into the background of anniversaries, finals, and sports.

But she never forgot. It had lurked in her, adding to the beast which she'd been confronting the past few days.

It's actually Andrew who calls it back to the forefront of her mind.

They're in the dorm, the four of them, and she's gone through at least two boxes of Raisinets (which Andrew had called a sin) and a liter of soda. The television is blaring with sounds of gunfire and distorted radio effects, which none of the boys seem to mind.

She's watched Aaron play (and fail) at this game so many times over the past few years, that it no longer bothers her. Her eyes drift over the room, fondly lingering over where Aaron is trying to not pull his hair out while he’s teaching Neil how to play.

Neil is holding the controller wrong, but she's pretty sure he's doing it on purpose, and she stifles a giggle into her soda cup.

And then...there's Andrew. He's sitting against the far wall, a watchful eye to the end. He tilts his head every now and again as Neil smirks and scowls, and Katelyn doesn't try to parse those thoughts. She's pretty sure either too much goes on in Andrew's head or nothing at all, but either way Neil ends up being a point of clarity.

He's not doing anything attention-grabbing, but Andrew rarely is. But the memory guided Katelyn's attention to him, to the curl of his hands. It's not that she's afraid to approach him for the old reasons; she does it on occasion, though she's better with the rules now. It's only necessary to talk to Andrew when she has something to say, something that matters.

This...definitely mattered.

And the thing is, she's sure he'll agree. He'll at least lift his head. He had nodded at her when she walked into their dorm, a more common occurrence now that still makes Aaron falter each time. It still feels like a beginning, but it feels nice all the same.

Andrew gets up, footsteps loud as he walks past where Neil is sitting in one of the beanbag chairs. His hand grazes the back of Neil's neck while the other opens the soda next to him, pushing it into Neil's hands in place of the controller. It's such a familiar dance that neither of them linger on it. Neil's glare at Aaron doesn't falter even as Andrew walks out of the room for a smoke break.

Katelyn stares after him, lingering on Andrew's back as he leans against the outside railing. It's been awhile since she's seen Andrew truly tense; he looks how he feels for once. Calm, in the moment. Katelyn wonders if it's a feeling he takes for granted, or one he refuses to acknowledge. Either way, it just makes her more hesitant to approach him.

She doesn't want to break this peace they both have, here with their people on a cool summer night.

But if she doesn't say it...no. She's not sure it's avoidable at this point. It pushes on her vocal chords and claws at her pressed lips, prying them apart. Katelyn thinks of Aaron next to her in bed, or in her arms, safe and sound. She realizes she's wanted to say this for a long time.

Katelyn stands quietly, though she doesn't have to. Aaron and Neil are glued to the game, and any sound she makes is drowned out by explosions and gunfire.

"Josten, you can't be this much of an idiot," Aaron says, more agonized than annoyed at this point. He jabs his fingers over his own controller, like he can take it out on the plastic instead of Neil's brain.

"Oh yeah? Bet," Neil answers, because at least he's self-aware. "And what the hell? I did the combo right that time."

"No you didn't! You just keep smashing the buttons in a random order!" Aaron mimics it, and in true form, is killed on screen. "Shit. You're destroying my rankings."

"Don't blame me because you suck at this."

Neil is correct. Aaron has never successfully beaten either Andrew or Nicky. Once, while drunk, he cried about it.

"I do not," Aaron grumbles, and he starts the next round. "Here. Watch."

Katelyn doesn't wait to hear Neil's snippy response; her smile fades as she steps out onto the balcony, the cool air hitting her flushed cheeks. She laughs at herself, nothing more than a light huff; to think part of her is actually fired up over this, a little proud. Like it's about time.

She's sure she should feel ashamed of that, ugly. But she doesn't.

The sound makes Andrew whip his head around, the softness stripped away to reveal sharp edges, pulling her apart. The hand holding Andrew's cigarette pauses in mid-air, and he waits, because why would Andrew speak first?

Katelyn smiles wryly before she hardens, grip so tight on the door column that the old paint chips. She's learned there's no reason to lead in with anything when it comes to Andrew; he doesn't care about niceties, or fronts.

She only has one thing to say, and she's going to say it regardless of whether or not she gets a response. She turns to check on Aaron one last time, and he's oblivious. As he should be, for this.

That's Katelyn's only source of guilt. But she knows, maybe as well as Andrew, that Aaron is not ready to hear this. He probably never will be.

Katelyn takes one step forward, right where Andrew's boundary ends, and makes sure there's zero room for him to doubt her.

"I'm glad you killed her."

It comes out a lot more serious than she thought; it was what she was going for, but she expected some quiver to her tone, a weakness.

There is none. Her voice is devoid of any regret, any sympathy, and that's everything she ever wanted. That's what Tilda deserved, at the bare minimum.

And if it's all Katelyn can give, she'll do it. She'll thank the person who did whatever he could.

She clasps a hand over her mouth when she realizes she's smiling, an inkling of that coldness bleeding through, but it's too late.

Andrew saw.

She guesses that's fair though; she tries to wipe the smile away but it sticks, it pulls open her lips like rusted gates, releasing those words she craved. Andrew lowers his cigarette as he takes this in, and Katelyn's not sure what he finds.

She hopes it's something good.

Katelyn doesn't wait for Andrew to respond before she walks back into the dorm, nothing more to say. She feels Andrew's gaze on her back, and she trusts it. When had that happened?

When had she stopped expecting a threat? When had she realized there was no need to flinch?

The warmth fills her to the brim. She climbs into Aaron's chair as he mopes over his loss, nuzzling his cheek. His hand finds hers like a moth to the flame before he stands up to switch the game to Mario Party so they can all play. Her smile from before morphs into something full and colorful. Bright.

She claps excitedly, rummaging through the tangled basket below the entertainment system for her controller. She's already challenging and throwing jabs at Neil, who is her biggest rival in this game. The twins always lose.

She's vaguely aware of Neil calling Andrew back into the room, but then there's Andrew's hand in front of her face, untangling the chord for her. She gasps as he frees the pink controller from its confines, dangling it in front of her.

She reaches for it on instinct, but hesitates when she glances up at him. She's...in his bubble. It's only for a moment, but it closes up her throat.

"Well?" He says when she freezes, unmoving for too long. Katelyn notices, with no shortage of joy, that Andrew's shoulders are still relaxed. He's comfortable. Accepting.

She blinks away the shock behind her eyes and grips the controller, smiling up at him. The moment ends in an instant, Andrew's bored expression already focused elsewhere. He turns away from her as he plops down by Neil, and she avoids the smug smile Neil sends her.

Whether it's due to the game or his own weird intuition, Katelyn doesn't know.

All she knows in that moment is that she's going to smoke them all.

Katelyn jumps up, and the lightness in her heart threatens to steer her into the ceiling. She takes her place beside Aaron and lets the shit talking begin.

--

Granted, there parts of Katelyn that are still naive. It comes with the territory, with pretty cookie cutter houses and neighborhood watch meetings.

See, as much as she was ready to acknowledge her protectiveness, she never thought she'd have to resort to actual violence...ever. She assumed those times were behind them, that life would be boring and wonderful from here on out.

Most things should seem boring anyways, after everything they’ve been through.

You've always have to be the optimist.

What she didn't know was just how prepared her mind was for reality, lying in wait behind the scope of her conscious thought. And come to think of it, that was naive of her too, to think feelings take a vacation just because you accept them.

Her pom-poms hit the floor with a clatter as she jumps up, high as she can. She's cheering, trying to be heard over the rest of her squad while her coach tries to calm them down. It never works.

Katelyn is taking off from the cheer section despite the teasing from the other girls, but they should be used to this by now.

She has a flair for the dramatic, and she's on the court soon after the final buzzer rings. The score is in the Foxes' favor tonight, promising an excessive party later on. She wonders if she can convince the girls to give her the room for a few hours...

The crowd roars behind her as she and the rest of the cheerleaders rush onto the court, but her excitement is her own and twice as powerful.

It's tradition now for her to seek Aaron out, to leap into his arms after every game won. Sue her, she's cheesy like that. And after being deprived of it for so long...she's gotten greedy. Andrew barely bats an eye anymore, comically side stepping them.

She's confused though, because normally they meet halfway. She runs to center court and can't see Aaron anywhere, and her confusion only doubles when she sees a mass of people forming up ahead.

There's a sizable crowd around where the Foxes' huddle should be, a mix of referees and substitute players, and she pushes through them to get a better look. She doesn't realize her body is already buzzing, alive with nervous energy and dread. It knows something she hasn't quite figured out yet.

That's why she's not just nudging people out of the way, she's shoving them, elbowing them as the yelling gets louder. It's normally her personality that bulldozes, but today it's every last inch of her.

Her blood feels like it ignites. Her body is thrown into fight or flight mode, and fight is definitely preferred.

It happens fast.

Aaron has never let his height deter him, and as neutral as he can be in most situations, he's got a short fuse at times and a fighting spirit to match. His anger is explosive. It happens in short bursts, but can raze fields in its wake. It gets him into a lot of trouble; he can say things he doesn't mean or things he absolutely means, which are typically worse. Today it's the latter.

Aaron is face to face with a player from the other team, and the words roar in Katelyn's ears. They're murky and muddled, like her brain has deemed the meaning and context irrelevant. All she needs to know is they're unkind, provoking. The backliner towers over Aaron, trading his own insults. 'Murderer' and 'inbred' and a slew of other original things hit Aaron point blank, but he's heard it all before. Whatever Aaron says in return must be cutting, and while Katelyn can't differentiate the words from curses, she knows they land.

Her heart jumps to her throat and the crowd gets louder around her; it's static in nature, too much at once, and everything in her stands on end. Poised to strike.

She doesn't care what they're arguing about, or who she's with, or what she's doing. She just sees the backliner's fist fly back, half the size of Aaron's head, and she simply reacts. She almost wants to blame the beast, that dark corner of her mind, for what happens next.

But it's all her, and it's always been all her.

Andrew moves out of the corner of her eye, sensing the same violent outcome. Their deal might be over, but the promise isn't. Andrew's instinct to protect his own will always be there.

But for once, Katelyn is faster.

Nicky is standing nearby, or maybe she ran to him...she's not sure, and it doesn't matter. Her blood is rushing into her ears and her heartbeat has drowned out the crowd. She wrenches the racquet from Nicky's hands before he even sees her.

There's no chance of her comprehending it, of stopping, so she doesn't. She brings the racquet back in the fiercest swing she can manage given her noodle arms, and punches the air out of the bastard's lungs with it. It hits him right in the stomach, and Katelyn makes sure not to break anything.

Again, she's good at anatomy.

It's a painful, underhanded hit, and she hopes it leaves a bruise. Nicky's racquet creaks a bit from the force of it, but it did its job well. Katelyn watches with a wicked satisfaction as the guy goes down with a groan, clutching his gut.

There's still anger in his eyes, a bitterness, but it pales in comparison to her own.

And it's in that moment she thinks she understands Neil best. 'I'm the scary one.'

Yes, yes, Katelyn thinks that's more than appropriate. She didn't understand then that it was simply an observation based on a feeling. It's the same feeling she's feeling now, and she supposes she has changed quite a lot from even that initial conversation.

Because she doesn't dwell on the feeling, or worry about what ugly things it says about her. It just is, and it's in the name of the emotion she loves so much. The person she loves so much.

So, her arm goes back with less force this time, less power, but it still goes back. Ready to deal another blow, ready to fight as much as she needs to if it means protecting Aaron.

It's not quite bloodlust, but it would get her the same result to call it that, so oh well.

She doesn't get the chance to find out how far she's willing to go; she's barely begun to swing forward when someone grabs the handle of the racquet, stopping her cold. She gasps then, realizing what's she doing, and again there's no regret. There is concern for the witnesses, though.

Heat rushes to her face as her eyes dart around, waiting for the vilification that's sure to come. But no. Everyone's eyes are glued to the groaning mess on the floor. Baby.

Katelyn takes a moment to catch her breath and get her shit together, because she can't believe she was that ready to maim someone in the middle of their stadium, and then turns to see the person who did notice.

Of course it's Neil. Of course.

His face is trying very hard to remain the default, completely blank, but Katelyn catches the edge of amusement playing at his lips. He'd know better than anyone, right? How close she'd come to going full apeshit, and she's sure she'll never hear the end of it. As she realizes that, Neil's smile blooms, and she tenses. Oh, shut up. Neil huffs a laugh, yanking the racquet from her hands. "I'll take that, thanks."

Katelyn tries to glare, but she can't help but smile all the same.

"Katelyn..." a voice says off to her side, and she turns to find Aaron paused midstep, worry battling with something else entirely on his face. She reaches for his hand, curling tight, and the blush on his face intensifies until it's wrapped around his ears and choking him by the neck. "Uh...you...wow."

Katelyn smirks.

Ah. Interesting. She could definitely get used to this.

"Ha," Andrew deadpans from behind Aaron, and wow, Katelyn doesn't think she's ever seen him jump so high.

"Y-you just shut up."

Katelyn's giggle is interrupted by another groan a few feet away, and the backliner glares at her with what's supposed to be pure contempt. Somehow, she's not fazed. Maybe it's the fact he's tried to get up twice now to no avail. Aaron scowls down at him, hand tight in Katelyn's, and she's never felt safer.

"Fucking bit--"

Neil leans down to his eye level in an instant, oddly reminiscent of the first time. The ire in his blue eyes is extinguished though, replaced with lazy satisfaction. Katelyn's pride in herself swells. "Hey, want me to pick up where she left off?" Neil asks, spinning the racquet in his hand. "I hit a lot harder than she does."

Katelyn really laughs then, when the backliner's face pales and Aaron smirks. Wymack starts saying something about 'restraint' and 'discipline' in Neil's face, but it hardly makes a difference.

She would've kept going. That's on her, and she's better for it. She knows she won't hesitate, that what lies dormant in her is the same as what thrashes daily inside most of the Foxes. That's enough for her, and she returns all their smiles as they pat her on the back.

It's a backwards congratulations, but the Foxes have never looked down on a protective impulse, no matter how small or rare. Even Wymack gives her a long look before shaking his head. '"These kids...I swear."

She will never be like the rest of them, not in full, but what drives her is the same. She knows that deep down, and doesn't let it scare her. Instead she leans into Aaron, kissing his cheek to congratulate him on his good game, his skin still hot as the school blacktop.

The coaches and referees clear the field, and Katelyn wishes she could bottle this lightness, this certainty.

Andrew nods at her as she passes, imperceptible, and Neil is beaming next to him. Neil shares a look of understanding with her, smugness palpable. 'Told ya so.'

Katelyn only gets a little satisfaction at the way Neil avoids Andrew's gaze a second later. Their dance is amusing, natural. Neil sidesteps to hide his face, and Andrew blocks his path, corralling him effectively.

Neil huffs in Andrew's face, all too used to it.

The words come back to the front of Katelyn's mind from that day. Her own voice echoes: you'd kill?

"Neil," she calls after him, a touch too cheerful, and he turns lazily. Like he expects it. She'll never say she understands Neil. It's frankly not possible to know how much he's aware of and how much goes completely over his head. In this case, she knows he'll hear and comprehend everything.

"I would," she says, and ignores the confused look the twins exchange. Neil's smile sharpens, a mirror of her own, before he's dragging Andrew to the locker room. Hmm. Katelyn wonders if Neil would have a good cackle. She'll have to ask.

"I'm not ever going to know what that was about, am I?" Aaron asks, but he's less pouty about it than normal. He's accepted their weird friendships, the uniquely cultivated bonds between each of them. Mostly.

He smiles at her as she leans down, stealing a kiss. "Definitely not."

She giggles when he dips her, indulging her dramatic side, and the sound bounces off the stadium walls.

--

++bonus

Neil assumes this is his punishment, though Andrew doesn't explicitly say it is.

The mall is slow on the following Tuesday afternoon, which is specifically why they always schedule their mall excursions (Andrew refuses to call them dates) during the week.

He's glad, because most of the time it means there’s not a lot of people shopping, which means more stolen kisses for him. It's also good for times like this, so people don't have to see his suffering.

Neil watches with dread as Andrew opens the blue and white Cinnabon box, revealing the gooey, overly iced monstrosity inside. Neil feels his taste buds protest already as he watches Andrew cut off a particularly big chunk.

Neil should've known something was off when Andrew didn't even complain once about ordering Neil a large smoothie.

Betrayed.

Gently, too gently for how awful this punishment is, Andrew cups Neil's chin with his hand, pressing down just enough to make his cheeks puff up. His face is a blank void, out of the ordinary these days when it's just the two of them, and Neil sighs internally. There really is no getting out of this. Andrew quirks a brow, holding the nauseating dessert up to Neil's mouth. "Say ‘ah.’"

Neil glares, but does so begrudgingly. If it's something Andrew knows he truly hates, he wouldn't even offer it, but Neil's never actually had one of these things before. The overabundance of cinnamon leaves him grimacing as he chews, and Andrew's expression still gives nothing away. Not even the signature 'you're so dramatic' tilt of his head. Neil knows the taste is enough to stain for at least twenty minutes, and the urge to wash it down with his strawberry smoothie is fierce.

But he waits, because he doubts it's over.

Andrew watches him swallow pitifully before turning back to the rest of the cinnamon roll, cutting himself a piece and then dousing it in the extra icing he paid for.

Neil's feelings are unconditional, truly.

When he's done consuming the sinful piece of overly fluffy sugar, Neil tracks the leftover icing on Andrew's lips. He's weak, he'll admit, but he knows kissing Andrew would be twice as sweet as the dessert itself.

And ah, that's when it all makes sense.

Andrew sets his fork and knife down very deliberately before spinning to face Neil, tilting his head in the closest thing to innocent Andrew can manage. "Kiss me?"

Neil nearly whimpers. It's incredibly unfair. Andrew rarely asks for kisses anymore—neither of them do. So now it's just endearing as hell, and Andrew never phrases it like that.

And well, Neil always wants to kiss Andrew, no matter how sugary the consequences. He nods excitedly, scooting forward on the bench. It gets him a crack in the mask finally, as Andrew's gaze softens, warm and...wow.

"Stop it," Andrew mumbles, and then his lips are on Neil's. Neil sighs into it, latching onto Andrew's sleeves when he feels him start to pull away. He typically understands short kisses when they're in public, but today it feels especially petty, so he swipes his tongue to catch some of the icing at the corner of Andrew's mouth.

But when Andrew is set on something, he's set. He pulls away, and Neil huffs, grabbing his smoothie with impressive petulancy.

"None of that, rabbit," Andrew says, digging back in. Even with his particular methods of cutting up his food, he'll most likely demolish the dessert in the next two minutes. "You know what you did."

And at that, Neil can't help but smirk. He feigns innocence as best he can as he sips on his smoothie, chewing on the straw to suppress the joy. He gets the memory of wind whistling through racquet strings, the image of the backliner on his ass and the feral look in Katelyn's eyes.

He's proud, but really, how is any of that his fault?

"I haven't done anything," he replies as Andrew chucks the box into the nearest trash can. "If my life were a factory, it would say at least fifty days have passed since the last accident."

Andrew pauses midstep, unamused.

Neil holds out his hand expectantly, ready to be led through the mall wherever Andrew sees fit. They have a system, though Andrew refuses to admit it.

They start off with Neil's stores simply because Andrew wants to get them over with, but he doesn't rush Neil as he browses the two athletic stores and rants about the minuscule differences in sneakers. Then they stop for sushi, and Andrew will attempt in vain to teach Neil to use chopsticks.

Neil might mess up more on purpose, just so Andrew has to touch his hands more.

Andrew's stores are more for dressing up Neil than Andrew buying anything for himself, though he'll occasionally indulge in buying a new watch or jacket. Especially if Neil picks them out and tells him how good they'd look.

It's a skill Neil has picked up happily, and participates in often. It's not like they're lies, because Andrew always looks good to him.

Mostly, though, he watches his boyfriend browse racks of clothes, holding up shirts and accessories to Neil's body until he's narrowed it down.

It's not hard for Neil to coax him into the dressing room with him after that.

After both forms of dessert, the last stop is the one that perplexes Neil to this day. Despite the confusion, he follows Andrew hand in hand to the overly glitzed up monstrosity that is Claire's.

It's an experience.

It's usually empty apart from one poor soul getting their ears pierced and a few teenagers picking out matching necklaces, but no one is ever phased when Andrew and Neil walk in. They look the opposite of people who should and would shop here, but Claire's is a lawless place with no rules and no judgement.

Neil once joked about Andrew writing a paper on it, since he's fairly certain time is a construct in this place. According to Andrew, however, they have the widest selection of the kind of earrings Andrew likes on Neil: the dangly ones. Perfect for Eden's. They're so cheap Andrew doesn't let him wear them any other time, or for more than a few weekends, but it just means they have to come back often to get new ones.

They should have a membership, but that's the line Andrew won't cross.

Today, Andrew is eyeing a pair with fake gems, and he holds it up to Neil's ear, squeezing his earlobe as he debates. Meanwhile, Neil's eyes float over the nearby costume merchandise and mood-themed jewelry.

There's a pair of chokers that have 'best friends' charms hanging from them, and Neil squints. It's something so cheery and colorful, he's sure Katelyn would be all over it. Probably Matt too.

But the reminder of Katelyn has Neil wincing before he can stop himself.

Andrew follows his gaze to the necklaces, throwing them in the basket a moment later without saying anything. Neil thinks that's the end of it when Andrew moves them to the next display of earrings, but of course it's not.

Andrew doesn't give up digging for answers when it comes to Neil, not that Neil fights him much anymore. It's just...with this...

Ugh.

Andrew's words tell him they're on the same page.

"You're a terrible influence," Andrew voices, throwing in a few more pairs. There's a sale today.

Neil shrugs. He has to play it cool, but it's almost funny how they've come to this discussion. Andrew isn't aware of Neil's moment behind the gym, pipe pressed to some asshole's throat, but he can still read through Neil enough to know he must've done something.

So, Neil sighs, and doesn't bother denying it.

"I'm not responsible for what other people do," he reiterates, holding up a pair of black rings. It's unusual for anything in this place to match Andrew's aesthetic, so Neil can't pass it up. He tosses it into the basket.

"Oh, captain who goes down with the ship," Andrew chides, tilting Neil's chin just so. There's a warmth in Andrew's eyes regardless of his words, and Neil stuffs his hands in his hoodie to keep from leaning forward. "Your penchant for leadership means people follow you anyways, even if your decisions are stupid."

Andrew lets go of him to assess his haul, but Neil's not done making his case.

"I'm not Katelyn's leader." Far from it. He knows Katelyn and Andrew generally get along better now, but Andrew can still be under the impression that Katelyn isn’t a force in her own way. No...Neil didn't inspire shit. If anything, Katelyn had...an awakening of sorts.

Neil brings a hand up to cover his smug smile. Ah, it's always so satisfying when people get what they deserve. He can only hope Katelyn doesn’t get addicted to the feeling.

He doubts it, though. Her goals are only ever to protect Aaron. Outside of that she's harmless, unless you count the gossip she hoards.

So what? He made Katelyn realize going for the throat is all too necessary when it comes to the people they hold dear. He stopped her before it could go further, and that should've been her lesson to not lose herself in the future.

Past that, Neil isn't responsible.

"Do you have fun, missing the point all the time?" Andrew asks, backing Neil against one of the columns in the store. Neil is quite familiar with this spot, because it means kisses, and he's a simple man nowadays.

He smirks, reaching over to grab one of the headbands hanging from the metal hooks. This one has animal ears on it, and he plops it on, catching the way Andrew's face twitches.

"If it gets you to talk to me like that, a little."

Andrew rips off the ears so fast Neil gasps, and an employee glares at the projectile when it lands in the far corner. Neil snorts, pulling Andrew completely behind the column with him. It's his favorite part of the store, because it faces an empty wall. They're hidden.

"You're insufferable," Andrew chides, but doesn't move away. Neil's content, knowing his warmth and weight has become a comfort.

That's why...that's why he really doesn't feel bad. He'd protect Andrew with everything he had, and Andrew would do the same for him. Through blood and any measure of brutality.

Neil is not naive. His life is a lot different now, and he'll try as hard as he can to make sure things are more peaceful from here on. It's unrealistic in some cases; both of them will always be plagued by nightmares, a mix of paranoia and too many boundaries. But...but the past is so much easier to navigate when the present is peaceful.

Life is not set in stone, and neither is this peace. It's possible there will be more fights, more war. And they'll both be ready, because there's no other choice where one another is concerned.

Even if Andrew won't say it, Neil knows it with bone deep certainty.

And now Katelyn will be prepared too. Neil can't possibly feel an inch of regret for causing that.

Neil sighs when Andrew's hand grips the back of his neck, grazing Neil's ear on the way there, the ghost of a touch.

Come to think of it, that employee sees them here every week...she most certainly knows what they're doing behind this column. Neil sighs a laugh, drowsy all of a sudden. He wants to nap when they get home, Andrew pressed against him. Safe.

"Yes, that's true, I'm pretty bad," Neil whispers, hand resting on Andrew's shoulder. "Don't act like you're not relieved, though."

Andrew tilts his head, pausing just before stealing a kiss.

"Elaborate."

"You've been demoted," Neil says with a smirk, chasing Andrew's lips when he moves back. It's the one direction he runs to consistently now. "Aaron has someone else to protect him."

There's a moment Andrew pauses, letting the words wash over him. It would not have been possible, Neil thinks, even a year ago. But Katelyn isn't just a fixture Andrew ignores now, she's permanent, present.

Andrew's tiny laugh sends a shiver down Neil's spine. "Was that the plan all along, then?"

Neil squints, confused, and Andrew's smile is small but there, something that's becoming increasingly common.

Andrew shrugs, a mocking mirror of Neil's default response. Despite this, he finally crowds Neil in, and he can feel the light press of Andrew's lips sticking to his. Andrew drops the basket when Neil hums in question, the moment private and sealed up just for them. "Now I can put all my efforts towards you," Andrew breathes into Neil's mouth, like a binding spell before the kiss seals them, and it wasn't the plan but...

Neil will gladly take it.

[moonstones-and-stardust]

Hello all, I thought that this was an important topic to cover. Red flags are something that we all hear about. However, I don't think that it's something that is often explain. It's either something deliberately sought out or something that someone learns the hard way. Communication is a beneficial tactic and people standing up for themselves is often a core concept of feminism. Even if it's just making sure that someone is treating you properly.

While the statement seems redundant, this is something that can happen to anyone in any form of relationship. Perhaps the topic could spread some light on relationships with another person.

1. Moving too fast

After being in a relationship with someone for just a short period of time. Moving too fast is when they will attempt to pressure the other party into doing something before they are ready. Examples include having sex or moving in together. If someone is pressuring another person into a sexual encounter be aware that they don't fully care about consent. Nothing less than enthusiastic consent is okay. If the person manages this then be aware they will step on other boundaries or keep pressuring for sex.

In the concept of moving in together, it is often to put the other in a position where they are either contractually obligated to stay or in a position where the other might have power over them. If someone is pressuring for another to move in before they are ready, it's good to be wary of that individual and say that the pressure is not okay. If the reaction is poor then their intent often is as well.

2. Stepping on boundaries

If someone is willing to ignore boundaries it'll come up quickly in any kind of relationship. It's also the easiest for people to ignore. Oftentimes society teaches that someone putting up boundaries is something to push to change. We all have our own comfort zones and when they are too be crossed is entirely up to the person and what they want to do.

Someone making continuing comments about how someone else lives their life when it in no way hurts or affects them is not alright. Especially when asked to stop. When this is ignored it is creating a clear feeling of 'my words are more important than your feelings, so shut up and take it.'

Partners, friends, and parents overstepping boundaries is a huge issue. It's a basic idea of autonomy and respect. Might I add that this is especially important for parents. The idea of 'my house, my rules' comes to mind. While yes, it's reasonable to expect someone to help around the house. That doesn't give another person the right to invade their privacy. This is saying that parents do not see children as independent or able to think in any way. And that loss of control can be extremely damaging to egos that are frail. The same goes for friendships or partnerships. If people cannot accept their faults, then there is room for improvement.

3. Attempts at isolation

Isolation can be an extremely dangerous and scary thing once someone successfully puts this into motion. There are a lot of different ways that this can be put into use.

The easiest to understand is physical isolation. Pushing for someone to be alone with another when they aren't comfortable. Such as only hanging out one on one. Sure, this might be easy for someone who has social shyness, however, it becomes an issue when the other feels obligated to spend all their time with that one person. Even forgoing time with other friends and family to be there for one reason or another.

Emotional isolation, often used in cases where someone tells another they have suicidal thoughts or depression to manipulate them into staying. These are real issues and should be taken seriously. That does not give another person the right to emotionally isolate another for their own personal therapist. Some people even use this type of manipulation to pressure someone to be in a romantic relationship with others who are not interested. They feel as though this is all on them to keep that person alive. When in truth they should be seeking some form of professional help.

4. Secrecy/Forgoing safety

The title says a lot here. Secrecy in a relationship is understandable in some situations. Should the persons involved be in some kind of danger to their safety or livelihoods. This does not apply when two people have been in an ongoing relationship and a partner has been refusing to make it public in any form. This continues to grow in ease in the modern day with technology. Be aware, if someone is dating more than one person at a time without the other knowing. It is not the fault of the other person they are dating. It is solely the responsibility of the person that is cheating and those who take steps to deceive unaware parties.

Forgoing safety relates to sexual activities. There's nothing wrong with sex, it can be enjoyable and liberating for people involved. Doing so safely is greatly important. A partner who doesn't want to take all safety measures involved is thinking more of their pleasure than future outcomes.

Testing for Sti's. This is extremely important for young couples before they have unprotected sex. One person refusing to get tested might be a sign that they're hiding something important. If you're sexually active get checked frequently if you have multiple partners. Being healthy is more important than a night of pleasure.

5. 'Negging'

Negging is a lesser spoken about the concept. Or something that hasn't been frequently spoken about in previous years. Negging essentially boils down to a backhanded or slightly off comment to a potential partner. Someone's tone is often a big factor here and if addressed may easily be brushed off as someone being overly sensitive. If someone doesn't have the best self-esteem in the world little things like this can really build up.

Some examples include

'wow, you must be really brave to wear your hair THAT way'

'I'm surprised you can pull that look off'

'That's not something I would do, but on you, it works.'

'You're really brave to smile when your teeth look like that.'

Oftentimes these people pick up on what others might be insecure about, something that isn't conventionally attractive, and use a comment like this to try and ingratiate themselves while knocking down the other person's self-esteem.

6. Not like 'others'/comparing to others

This concept is vice versa. The topic of someone claiming to another that they're 'not like the others'. Is meant to make this person feel as though they are special. Which someone can get swept up with when they think someone thinks that they are special in a certain type of way. What's important here is to think about the concept. Why are they saying you're 'not like the others' and what situation is it applying to? 'not like the other girls.' is frequently used. If a woman is told she's not like other girls, it might not occur to wonder what's wrong with other women?

The truth is that there is nothing wrong with other women in this concept.

On the other hand, if someone is comparing two people, especially in a relationship it's important to think about why. While two people may have similarities they aren't the same person. People should treat everyone as an individual and not use others as a comparison. People are not one and the same and it's important to take individuality for what it is.

7. Gaslighting

Gaslighting is a form of abuse that can make a person feel as if they're going insane. The reason it is on this list is that it's something that can easily be done to another person. In any situation, though it is usually spoken conversations over a period of time in which this tactic is used.

Usually, it starts with someone saying that they never said something to you, when they most definitely did. If they do this enough then it can start to build doubt in the mind of another person. If this is done enough they start to doubt their own mental security and their memory.

Another form of this abuse is people moving things when another isn't looking. It might start out with just moving car keys to a different hook, moving someone's purse or clothing to the left, or placing them in a different drawer. Sometimes even straight up hiding them and when the person leaves putting them back as though they were there the entire time. If you suspect someone is doing this then take notes on what happens. And don't doubt yourself. It might be hard but that's the most important thing to breaking the cycle.

8. Refusing to talk about the future

This is something that is important mainly for couples. If there are ideals that people may disagree on it is important to address them early in a relationship that appears to be taking a serious turn. It is perfectly reasonable for someone to request some time to think about a topic. However, continually ignoring something crucial is a lack of communication. If someone is not willing to at least attempt communication on this level then one needs to think about how this will affect the relationship in the future.

Disclaimer

These are all things I've written down from one personal experience or another. I am not an expert but still think it's important to talk about, as someone doesn't have to be an expert to recognize abuse. If you'd like to add things on, ask questions, or ask me to write more in the future please go ahead.

[all-things-lgbtqia]

JK Rowling continues to spout TERF ideology, continues to say she’s not a TERF.

JK Rowling, best known as author of the world-renowned Harry Potter series and the decider of who is and isn’t gay, took to Twitter within the past 24 hours to make what I can only assume was supposed to be a joke in response to a Tweet about efforts to help create a more equal world “those who menstruate” in a post Covid-19 world, saying that “I’m sure there used to be a word for those people.”

When called out for her erasure of trans men, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming people - all people who can be assigned female at birth but do not identify as women - Rowling went on the defensive, criticizing the idea that “sex isn’t real”.

Here’s the thing, Rowling: sex is real. Trans people know this. That’s kind of what makes most of us trans. Their biological sex, which is a real and tangible thing, does not match the identity they see for themselves, which is also real although it can be a lot harder for us outsiders to see. This is why many trans people opt for modified clothing (such as binders and gaffs), hormones and surgeries to make the exterior body match the internal sense of gender. Granted, many trans people will not do this, and they are not obligated to do so, but the vast majority of us will opt for such measures, not just to make ourselves more comfortable in our skins, but also so people like you don’t keep misgendering us and then pretend to be the victim when we call you out on it (which you’re doing right now). Absolutely no one is arguing that biological sex isn’t real.

She then goes on to say that saying women like her, “who’ve been empathetic to trans people for decades”, hate trans people “because they think sex is real and has lived consequences - is a nonsense”.

Like I said Rowling, sex is real and absolutely no one is saying otherwise. You’re the one who keeps saying it. You said it during the Maya Forstater debacle and you’re saying it now. “Woman” is not a term that refers to someone who is biologically female. An overwhelming amount of the time it does, but not always. “Female” and “female-bodied” are somewhat controversial terms when it comes to afab transgender people, but they always refer to someone who is biologically female. “Afab” is an acronym for “assigned female at birth”, which can even refer to cis women. So as you can see, there are better terms to refer to someone with female reproductive organs than “women”. And believe it or not, a lot of those “lived consequences” are often the same for a lot of afab people. Not everyone has the privilege to transition at 6-years-old, before the horrors of the real world affect most of us. Many afab trans men (I would like to quickly acknowledge that some trans men may be biologically intersex), non-binary and gender-nonconforming people will have lived as females or a somewhat “female experience” up until they come out of the closet and begin their transition, if they do so at all. Pre-transition afab people are still subjected to the same amount of sexism, misogyny, sexual harassment and general dangers that come with being a woman because even though they are not women, society sees them as women. And yes, these people will even menstruate, because they have a female reproductive system (although it is worth noting that some people born with these parts may not menstruate at all, because biology is weird and sometimes things don’t function the way they’re supposed to). And on top of all that, trans women will also face the same hazards during and after the main stages of their transitions. In fact, statistically speaking, transgender women are even more likely to experience male violence than cis women, so let’s not pretend they aren’t involved in this whole conversation at all.

And just a quick sidebar, like I said, some people with female reproductive parts don’t menstruate because their body just never kicks that system into gear. If a cis woman never menstruates because she’s one of those people, is she no longer a woman, J?

I would also like to take the time to comment on how she pretends trans people don’t exist when she wants the spotlight and only references them when she gets called out for it. This is a lot like the, “I can’t be racist, I have black friends” “argument”. We’re not tools that you can use and then put back in the closet when you’re done (only we can decide if it’s time to go back in the closet, and I would rather not do that again, thank you very much). We’re not accessories you can flaunt to show how accepting you are. We exist even when you’re not making exclusionary remarks and pretending that the issue at hand is exclusive to cis females only.

She goes on to claim she would support trans people if we are discriminated against. I don’t have a Twitter account so I can see only very limited Tweets online, but so far I haven’t seen her comment on the proposed UK bathroom bill that would force trans people to use the bathrooms that correspond with the sex marker on their birth certificates. If she has commented, let me know and I will update this section of this post appropriately.

She tries to justify herself by saying she is well-read in scientific journals and transgender experiences, so she knows the distinction between sex and gender. But if this was the case, she wouldn’t still be using “woman” to refer strictly to cis women, and she certainly wouldn’t be using it to describe all  people who menstruate.

She says, “Never assume that because someone thinks differently, they have no knowledge.” And she would make a good point, if saying that only women menstruate and implying that if you menstruate you are a woman, plain and simple, wasn’t TERF rhetoric. Listen, you can know all about a subject as complicated and relatively new as gender identity, but knowledge and acceptance are two different things. Just because you major in Africana Studies and can name just about every major figure in black history doesn’t make you less racist when you clutch your purse tighter when you see a black man jogging down the street. Having a degree in Women’s Studies doesn’t make you any less sexist when you tell a woman to make you a sandwich because you disagree with her opinion. And reading scientific papers about transgender people and what it all means doesn’t make you less transphobic when you make sweeping claims that only women menstruate, and that transgender people don’t understand the struggles of being a woman.

In what is her most damning move so far, Rowling then Tweets out, “‘Feminazi’, ‘TERF’, ‘bitch’, ‘witch’. Times change. Woman-hate is eternal.” One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn’t belong...

I get it, there are plenty of terms and phrases used with the intent of shutting up women you don’t agree with. TERF is not one of those terms. TERF is in the same category as racist, misogynist, neo-nazi, etc. NOT the same category as women-silencing words like ‘bitch’ or ‘feminazi’. A TERF is a trans-exclusionary radical feminist, someone who discredits the existence and experiences of transgender people (primarily trans women) because they feel like it (the transgender experience) doesn’t belong in discussions of women’s rights, or even that it threatens their identity as women. Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it? Calling someone a TERF is not a silencing behavior, and you’d figure a feminist would understand this. Calling someone a TERF is calling them out for behavior, while also letting the transgender community know that this is not a safe person to be around. If anything it’s a warning label. 

And look, don’t take this all to mean I hate women. I don’t. I only hate it when we pretend that an issue such as menstruation is exclusive to cis women. It isn’t. Women’s issues typically aren’t restricted to cis women. Trans women will experience violence and hate, usually at a disproportionately high rate when compared to their cisgender sisters. Trans men will often experience discrimination pre-transition, and maybe even post-transition from people who still see them as women. Not only that, but trans men typically experience the issues that come along with being biologically female (again, those that are afab). Most transgender men will menstruate and experience all the absolutely wonderful symptoms that come along with it. Some transgender men even get pregnant and have babies. No one is arguing that women have it easy. Transgender people - regardless of if they’re trans women, trans men, non-binary, agender, gender fluid, or gender-nonconforming - don’t want to erase women’s experiences throughout the years. We just want to live our lives in peace like everybody else. I just wish Rowling would stop pretending otherwise.

Is JK Rowling a terrible person? I don’t think I can go that far. She has made some serious contributions towards the acceptance of LGB (although notably not T) themes in children’s media, supports the Black Lives Matter movements, and even showcases fan art from very young fans on her Twitter. Although, she did share an article talking about the lesbian experience with discrimination and erasure, which is very important (hell, I admittedly don’t come across a lot of lesbian content on my Tumblr feed so I don’t get a chance to reblog a whole lot of it), but it also says that “ask my pronouns” is decidedly anti-lesbian, and paints the entire LGBTQIA+ community (referred to as “LGBTQ” with the quotes) as greedy, money-hungry, well-supported, and even predatory against children. Is this just a subject I’m not all that knowledgeable in? Perhaps, but I have a really hard time taking your arguments seriously LGBTQIA+ community is decidedly predatory against children, but I digress. I will say, however, that I am just disappointed. I’m disappointed someone who has been all about standing up to bullies and fighting against oppression has been using her platform to side with bullies and take part in said oppression. I’m disappointed she lumps “TERF” in with “Feminazi” and other terms designed to discredit women with opinions. And above all, I’m disappointed that she claims to offer us support when her actions support just the opposite. But, after all we’ve seen over the years, I can’t say I’m surprised.

[thebeauregardbros]

LFRP: Alus Beauregard | Crystal Server

THE BASICS ––– –– –

Occupation: Free Paladin | Field Medic | Café Proprietor

Hobbies: Fashion | Tea Brewing | Pastry Creation | Jewelry Making | Reading Faerie Tales

Race: Miqo’te (Sunseeker Descent)

Sexuality/Romance: Asexual / Panromantic

Relationship Status: Single; never married

Languages: Eorzean | Common. Understands all languages; possesses The Echo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

PERSONAL ––– –– –

Alias: “Alice” (💢)

Residence: The Goblet, Ward 8 : Sultana’s Breath Apartments; Wing 1; Apartment #21

Place of Work: Café Nobilitea: Lavender Beds Ward 20, Lot #8 | Anywhere his Eorzean Grand Company sends him.

Birthplace: ??? (Grew up in Eorzea; particularly in the Thanalan area)

Fears: Slugs | Failing to keep his comrades safe | Failing to save his enemies from themselves

APPEARANCE ––– –– –

Height: “Tall for a miqo’te” (5′8″/173cm)

Build: Barrel-chested, muscular; untoned muscles | Long legs, wide shoulders, slender hips.

Age: Unknown; nameday 20 yrs ago. Approximately 23 summers old.

Gender: Male

Skin tone: Tan; Gold Undertone

Eye color: Heterochromia; Deep Fuschia (Right) | Golden Yellow (Left)

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Body Mods: Pierced ears.

Distinguishing Marks: [SPOILER] Large amounts of large-scale bruises and scars all over his body. They are almost always covered up with his clothing. There are no visible scars on his face, neck, or hands.

Common Accessories: Large amounts of gold jewelry; Excessive rings, bracelets, pocket watch chains, earrings, tiaras, circlets, crowns | Large amounts of fresh and/or fake flowers; On his lapel, coming out of his pockets, warn as a flower crown, tucked in his hair, tucked amongst the buttons on his outfits, etc.

BODY LANGUAGE ––– –– –

Walk: Excellent posture; he carries his upper body with strength, while his legs nearly cross in his stride like an elegant female runway model.

Voice: His voice is often strong, clear, deep, and commanding, with the slightest hinge of huskiness. While off-guard, however, his voice cracks into a higher pitched and goofier voice. His quiet tones are very soft and sweet, like a warm fuzzy blanket wrapping you up in it on a cold winter’s night. (Voiceclaim/reference: Johnny Yong Bosch, particularly his roles as Vash from Trigun and Zero from Marvel vs. Capcom.)

Tics or Mannerisms: His speech consists of a shakepearian inspired word usage with a consistent disuse of contractions, similar to Urianger. | He tends to step-dance or become especially physically clumsy while nervous in social situations. | He will elegantly dodge all physical contact, even minor, unless he is comfortable enough with you to make the first contact.

Smell: Gardenia (Jasmine) / Cuttlebone dust

Posture: Constantly straight and erect; shoulders rolled back, chest out. Never looks truly relaxed, even while sitting. A model of good posture.

Disabilities: [SPOILER] Surface numbness on his scar tissue. Mild numbness in his left-hand fingertips.

RELATIONSHIPS ––– –– –

Romantic Partner: (None.)

Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive) (Deceased)

Siblings: Arc Beauregard (Twin Brother) (Alive)

Children: (None.)

Extended Family: (Unknown.)

Pets: Various unnamed wild songbirds and a fledgling Dodo that followed him home. He keeps feeding them, so they keep coming back, but he does not claim ownership of any of them. | He has also developed a relationship with a wild white horse he’s named Marion who consistently comes to his call. | His military-issued chocobo is named Erminia.

Other: Alus considers everyone he meets to be a friend.

PERSONALITY TRAITS ––– –– –

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Addictive / In Between / Nonaddictive

RP HOOKS ––– –– –

Café Nobilitea: Alus is the proprietor of a western-style teahouse with a distinct theme for elegance, royalty, and other-worldliness - His café is bright, full of flowers, and always playing soft kind-hearted piano music; the type of place a person could become lost in whence they’ve become tired of the grueling and dark outer world; a real heaven and haven. He often spends his free time there and enjoys sitting with his customers to get to know them.

Grand Company Militia: Alus is a very active member with the Eorzean grand companies in fighting against the Garlean empire and any other threats to the peace there might be upon the world. It’s very possible your character might have teamed up with him at some point in active duty.

The Prince on a White Horse: Alus patrols random fields often in order to keep the peace. Your character or someone your character knows might have been saved by the mysterious ‘Prince on a white horse’ while being attacked by bandits or beastmen, who oft leaves without giving his name.

A Fellow Warrior Of Light: Alus has helped out the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on occasion due to his status as a Warrior of Light; one of many.

LOOKING FOR ––– –– –

Long-Term ANYTHING!: Friendships, rivalries, casual familiarities, romances, anything. Alus has lived a long life without any PC RP interactions, and I feel his writing suffers for it. I want someone who will be there for the long run and get to know him. I want stories to develop. I want Alus to grow because of other people.

Open-minded villains!: Alus has the patience of a saint and will befriend the nastiest of criminals no matter what. Alus will stop them from directly committing serious crimes he may be there to witness (murder, kidnapping, robbery, etc.), but will ultimately be very forgiving and calm when dealing with these topics. He wants to genuinely make a connection with people he doesn’t understand and strives his best to soften anybody’s heart, no matter how hard. His ultimate goal is to change their ways for the better through patience and understanding.

Platonic flirts!: Alus has a lot of love to give and happy to give it to nearly everyone and anyone. He throws around the words ‘I love you’ quite easily, and if he is especially crushing on someone, he will hold their hands and hug them openly despite his normal dislike of physical touch. He is most happy when he has a large circle of queerplatonic relationships, but will be absolutely exclusive to their ‘steady’ when he has made that romantic commitment.

Distant family members!: Alus knows very little of the Beauregards; his adoptive father and surnamesake did not speak of them much. Alus is fascinated with Elezen culture and considers himself one of them. He would be incredibly happy to find anyone with the same last name who would welcome him to his adopted ancestor’s information.

ADVENTURE!: Once in awhile, let’s RP somewhere other than a unmoving place. Let’s RP in a dungeon. Let’s RP while doing gold saucer chores. Let’s RP while talking to random minor NPCs. Let’s RP while doing something other than just sitting! It can help a lot with improvisation and keep the creative juices flowing.

ABOUT THE MUN ––– –– –

Who I am: Hey, my name’s Will. I’m a 24 y/o prep cook living in Alaska. My family’s straight-up wiccan, I got 3 black cats, I love super flashy ridiculous fashion, 1980s comedies, and my favorite game’s Bayonetta. I’m a queer Aquarius with mild ADHD. Buddhism and pacifism are super important to me. I love the McElroys?? and uh. I yell in caps a lot. i WILL make you a playlist of music if you ask for recommendations, don’t fuckin tempt me. I’m a casual goofus fuck. here’s my ‘me’ tag on my personal,

Server: Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Time Zone: Alaska (GMT-8)

Availability: 11AM-2AM (subject to change)

Writing Style: Rapidfire! 95WPM. I like to RP just like I type normally - as thoughts pop up, I type ‘em, just like if I was talking. I’m not a big fan of waiting for turns; I have an anxiety disorder and that particularly makes me extremely anxious! However, I am happy to do short paragraph RP with you if we’ve been RPing long enough. Huge paragraph RP is 100% OK on Discord!

Platforms: In-game(preferred) or Discord.

Restrictions ––– –– –

No ERP!

No Permadeath! I really do not want to RP with anyone who intends to eventually kill off their character, either. This is a legitimate trigger for me.

RP Fighting...? I’ve never done this before. I’m not a fan of physical injury so it’s unlikely I would want to, either. But if the situation really calls for it, I’m open to learning. I will not allow you to permanently disfigure or disable my character - temporary injury is alright, but please talk to me about it first.

Mature Themes...? This is okay for me. Swearing, murder, prostitution, drugs.. I’m an adult! I don’t mind these themes being mentioned or being used as a backdrop to a prompt. Alus isn’t a fan of these things though! So just keep that in mind.

Sexual Assault...? For the most part, NO. However, a forceful kiss? An inappropriate touching that stops as soon as my character says no? Maybe. Ask me beforehand and be clear about what you’re thinking, no surprises.

More Info ––– –– –

Click here for Alus’ RP blog and all the memes and asks I’ve written for him!

tags;

@ffxiv-crystal-rp @crystalxivrp @mooglemeet​

[khalid-basara]

kheremy | give your heart a break

pairing - khalid basara & jeremy potts ( @jeremypotts )

time - towards the end of winter break

setting - ben’s castle- guest room that khalid stays in

summary - jeremy goes to talk to khalid and tells him how he truly feels about their current situation. they decide to take a break from each other.

jeremy:

This had decidedly not been a typical J&K holiday break. Typically, the two were practically attached at the hip and bouncing around the castle finding the next fun activity to do together. But this year, it was different and the reasons why were obvious, namely that Khalid was now dating someone and Jeremy was hurt about it. He had been good about plastering on a fake smile on the rare instances they were around each other, but more often than not, Khalid was off texting Quincy and Jeremy was by himself. Though, he was hugely thankful for Francisco, who had been there to help keep his spirits up through text as well. But then that stupid end of year game had come and he'd sent a pretty real message to Khalid and had received one in turn. He didn't want to. God, he didn't want to. He would have loved to just keep pretending everything was okay, but he just couldn't. He knew it was time to finally be real and let Khalid in on the things he was feeling. He loved Khalid and he didn't want to hurt him. He'd much rather just let Khalid live in blissful ignorance of how much he really had hurt Jeremy but, for once, he needed to do something for himself. So that he could, hopefully, move on. So, with a very reluctant feeling in his stomach, he found the guest room in the castle that had basicallly become Khalid's room - the one he always stayed in when he was there. Rapping softly a few times on the door, he opened it a little and stuck his head in a little. "Hey, K," he smiled weakly. "Can we... can we talk?"

khalid: 

Khalid had an idea that the holiday break was off this time around. There was no doubt that he'd played a cause in this. In fact it's safe to say he was the only cause of it. He'd had so many feelings and emotions that were just too much for him to handle and before things could get serious, he'd bailed. He might've been overdoing it with the way he was texting Quincy the entirety of break....and Thanksgiving break. Unlike he was able to give Jeremy, he wanted to show Quincy that she had nothing to worry about. Then the question came up, everything coming up to the surface. He can't just pretend like nothing happened. not anymore anyways. Khalid set his phone on the nightstand in the room he was staying in when he heard Jeremy entering the room. "Hey, J." He smiles widely when he sees him. "Yeah, what's up? Come on in."

jeremy:

And there was that smile Jeremy was absolutely, positively, in love with. The one that, for his own sake and the sake of their friendship, he had to stop being in love with. He walked further into the room, wringing his hands nervously for a moment. "I, uh... I thought we should talk," he started, pausing briefly. "Really talk," he clarified after a moment, sighing gently as he sat himself down in the desk chair. Normally he'd have had no issue sitting himself right next to Khalid on the bed, but he couldn't. It was like he needed that little bit of distance or this would become so much harder than it already was for him. "Because I... I haven't been honest with you, K. And... you know me," he let out a weak laugh. "You probably noticed already. That I've been... different, I guess."

khalid: 

He'd noticed when Jeremy sat at the desk chair instead. It felt weird, honestly. Them being separated like this. But he couldn't think about that. Khalid already created the rift between them, Jeremy was only following the lead of the signals he was so very clearly giving. That he was dating someone else. "Yeah, we should talk." he nodded his head and sat up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed upright. "I did notice." He started, clasping his hands together. "I always want you to be honest with me, J to the level of your comfort, you know? What's going on?" It was kind of new to him to feel this bit of anxiety around a conversation with Jeremy.

jeremy: 

This felt wrong. It felt wrong and sad and just... not how they should be. And that was just another reason Jeremy knew he had to get this talk out of the way and try his best to move past it. A world where he could get over his feelings and still keep his best friend was the ideal world he was trying for, but at this point in time, it felt so far away it was ridiculous. "I'm just... tired," he admitted after a moment, running a hand over his face. "I've tried so hard to act happy for you. And I am! I really am, it's just... hard." He'd always wanted the best for Khalid - for him to be happy. But he was hurt and the fact that Khalid wouldn't get that happiness from being with him was a hard pill to swallow. "And it's... because I'm hurt," he admitted, giving a weak shrug of his shoulders. "And it's not your fault. It really isn't. I'm the idiot who started loving you as more than just my best friend and... that's on me."

khalid: 

Being serious wasn't normally Khalid's strong-suit. He was always relaxed, go with the flow, but he couldn't recall ever feeling more tense than this. The stakes were exceptionally high in this case. He needed to make sure he didn't lose his best friend and with how careless he was with their friendship before... he has to make it up. "It is my fault, Jeremy. I don't like sounding like a cliche but hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do." He cleared his throat and brushed a hand through his hair. 'Love' If Khalid was being honest, he was aware the feelings that Jeremy had for him we deep but hearing it almost made his heart stop. "I shouldn't have done that... I lead you on and that's not okay. I wasn't a good friend to you." The words made it sound as if he hadn't had feelings for him too. But with the way things were going: Jeremy seeing other people, Khalid talking to other people, it wouldn't be fair. Not when he didn't have his own heart sorted out.

jeremy: 

To him, saying he loved Khalid wasn't such a dramatic thing. Nobody else had ever inspired the kind of feelings in him he had for Khalid and it had been just a natural realization for him that he was in love. But, at the same time, he knew Khalid - such a free spirit and someone that hardly ever took things seriously. So he could imagine that it might have been a little jarring for him to hear Jeremy state it so bluntly. In all honesty, he didn't disagree with what Khalid was saying. He had felt very lead on - he remembered the way his heart raced when he saw Khalid say he wanted to sleep with him and even date him. But then, all of a sudden, he was dating Quincy and it was as if the statements were never made. "I probably shouldn't have taken those things you said so seriously anyway," he commented dryly, his elbows on his knees as he rested his face in his hands. "I mean... you've always been my hype man. Of course you'd say that," he laughed, shaking his head, trying to make the conversation lighter in a way it clearly wasn't. Still, he sighed and finally lifted his eyes to meet Khalid's in a way he hadn't been able to so far in this conversation. "You're my best friend," he started, nodding once, firmly. "And that's never changing, okay? Ever." But then he paused, biting his lip and heaving another heavy sigh. "But I... I think I need some space. Some distance. To... see if I can get over this. Because right now, honestly?" he frowned, looking down to the floor instead. "Being around you just... really hurts."

khalid: 

Khalid knew that if there was anyone in the world he would be serious with it would be Jeremy. He's never been serious about anything or anyone. And not to get Freudian, but his parents were almost never home. They always traveled the world since he was young, but that they were bad parents. He just couldn't imagine what stable would look like. And it's not like he didn't want to be serious with him someday. But he's in college and college is the time for having fun and exploring life. Right now just doesn't seem like the time for something so..... real. His fingers traced into his hair, lightly tugging at the strands in frustration with himself. "no I meant them when I said it, J." He probably shouldn't have said that but Khalid was always honest, to a fault. "I want to do all those things I said with you I just.... can't." He shifted his gaze to look at him, his hands folding together tightly. Of course he'd want space, he's been sending all kinds of mixed signals and it was too much. "I understand. I don't want to hurt you, Jeremy. It's the very last thing I want. If you need space..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged not really knowing what to say after.

jeremy:

Jeremy winced a little at the words, feeling his heart break a little more. It was a nice thought, of course. He wanted to believe that somewhere in his best friend's heart Khalid loved him, too. Khalid had always been honest, if not too honest, and Jeremy knew deep down that he'd never say these things and not mean them (especially knowing that it'd hurt Jeremy all the more if he did), but the part of him that just felt so brokenhearted couldn't quite bring himself to believe them wholeheartedly. He didn't reply, instead giving a quiet nod instead. "I... think it's what I need, yeah," he stated, biting his lip and running a hand through his hair. He didn't know if he'd ever really be able to get over Khalid - he'd loved Khalid for so many years and it just didn't seem likely. But if he could at least get to a point where it didn't hurt so much to see Khalid with other people, he'd be okay. Maybe they'd get their chance someday, but if they didn't and he could still be okay accepting it, that'd be enough. "I know you don't. And that's why this is so hard for me," he sighed. "Because I feel like.... I might be hurting you by doing this. But it's... I think it'll be best in the long run." He paused for a brief moment before scooting the chair over close enough to where he could reach across and grip the other male's hand. "I just want to make sure... you know that I love you," he smiled, a real, genuine one. "And I don't mean that in the super intense romantic way, just in the... 'you're one of the most important people in my life and I have no intention of changing that' way," he chuckled. "It's just for now and then... as far as I'm concerned, we'll be back stronger than ever. Promise."

khalid:

"It'll be hard." He started off. The last thing Khalid wanted was to make this any harder for Jeremy. That's the very least he could do after being the bridge to bring them to this point. He had to be okay with it, even if it felt like things were changing in a way he didn't want them to. He wanted to be able show Jeremy the way he loved him and he didn't want Jeremy to stop loving him. But it's not about what he wants at all. Jeremy needs this and Khalid is willing to do absolutely anything for his best friend. "but we'll be okay. I'll just miss the hell out of you." He tried cracking a small smile to hopefully bring a little light to the moment. His head nodded when he Express his affection for him again, his hand taken by his friend's. The male squeezed the hand in his, it's only temporary he told himself. "Of course I know that. And I love you, in every way imaginable." He was always at ease when he saw Jeremy's smile, when it's the real one and he felt it. "I'll see you later then." He chose to say instead of any other form of 'goodbye'. This isn't a goodbye this is until next time.

jeremy: 

'I love you, in every way imaginable.' Those words were a particular dagger to Jeremy's heart because even if he knew fully well that Khalid did care about him, at least in this moment, he couldn't quite believe that when he knew his feelings for his best friend were unrequited. And, to Khalid's credit, he knew that the other boy probably wasn't aware of how they sounded or the implication either. Still, he got up and moved to sit down next to his best friend. "I'm gonna miss the hell out of you too, K," he sighed gently, reaching over and tugging him into a firm hug, rubbing comforting circles into Khalid's back for a few brief moments. "But we will be okay," he promised, finally tugging back. "I'll see you later," he echoed. Then, getting up once more, he moved to leave the room, pausing at the doorway only to turn and shoot him what he hoped was one last reassuring smile before he left.