#lets not talk about the fact that they posed for that picture earlier that didn't happen

[behbita]

People from ye olden days reacting exactly like you think they would with today’s technology never gets old

[gofancyninjaworld]

Blast is a mediocre hero

Talk about a controversial opinion! Well, I intend to defend it! With thanks to Eldrich_Void, who heard my rantings out.

This is not an opinion I rushed to. However, it has bothered me a lot that Blast seems to have a real track record for fucking things up. Almost all his endeavours seem to end up cursed in some way.

His evil partner, the ninja village horror he set up, and the way he seems intent on protecting the guy. His estranged son. The two heroes he saved both having serious complexes as a result. The monster he couldn't subdue.

Now that we get to see how he saw the situation on the ground, I think that Flashy Flash's accusing him of being unconscionably hesitant is right.

Under the circumstances, if I were Flash, I'd not trust that pressing that button would summon Blast in a manner timely enough to matter to me.

So, shall we see below the cut?

Before...

So, let's wind back all the way to chapter 165, back when Cosmic Garou landed. Remember then? He had time to pose for the benefit of the heroes gathered...

…then to look at himself, look at the heavens, and thank God for this gift of power.

Then Bang crawled up to Garou to try calling him back to his senses.

It took a while for the situation to ripen.

It's only in the next chapter, with Bang continuing to plead futilely with Garou, that Blast showed up.

Looks like he showed up as soon as he could.

So far, so good. It seemed that Blast came as soon as he could, given whatever else he was busy with. In the current timeline, Saitama came back from the future and punched Garou right when the latter looked up to thank God, so we thought, reasonably, that Blast never had a chance to appear. Case closed.

And looks like he didn't have an opportunity to show up.

But now we see more...

Several chapters have come and gone, and now we have a fuller picture of the event. And now we know that Blast was aware and on scene when Garou unleashed his gamma-ray burst:

Oh, so you were here.

We know too that Blast was on scene when Saitama appeared to punch out Cosmic Garou, before Bang even had a chance to crawl to Garou.

And there!

So Blast had had an opportunity to intervene earlier but did not take any action until after everyone was dropping dead and Bang was using the last of his energy to plead with Garou to come to his senses.

Okay, there's a place for observing the scene before you wade in so as not to make matters worse. As Drive Knight points out, rushing into things without proper analysis is a foolish thing. However, there's one thing I can't overlook. Even if Blast did not want to carelessly jump into a fight, the fact that he was able to reroute Garou's cosmic rays away from the heroes on the ground -- but had not done so originally... that is borderline unforgiveable.

Damn, if you could always do that, you should have done it earlier!

Let me be extremely clear. I don't hold Blast wholly responsible for restoring Empty Void. Yes, his rerouting the now free-floating 'God' powers as well as the cosmic rays to another dimension accidentally fed Void. That was careless, but not incomprehensible: thinking that one's evil ex-partner whom you left more dead than alive 15 years ago might be camping his nasty half-starved body on the other side of the dimensional hole you opened up in order to receive God's powers is not at the top of anyone's mind. What I am holding him responsible for is failing in the first duty of a hero: HELP PEOPLE!!

Now, let's go back to the original timeline. Even before he stepped up to support Bang, he could have rerouted those cosmic rays and saved most of the heroes. But he did not. I don't think he thought of it. Not a good hero instinct. But it gets worse.

Once it was clear that Garou had no intention of leaving the planet or ceasing to kill with his very presence, Genos stepped up, risking his life to buy Blast an opening.

Being a hero to the core. When people are in need, he is there.

However, when he was in danger and it was clear that Garou was fixing to kill him, did Blast step up? No. He just stood there, opened his mouth and bleated 'No.' [1]

And it gets worse still. It's not like Garou ripped Genos's head off to kill him instantly. Garou punched Genos through his center of mass. That was really bad: his upper torso is heavily protected for a reason, but that is not what killed him. We find out afterwards that Genos remembers seeing Garou pull his core out. Even that did not kill him: we've seen from back with the Giant Meteor that while losing his core's functionality will stop him being able to move his body, Genos's life support systems run independently of it. No, what killed him was Garou smashing him down so hard that his head and armor shattered and his blood splattered and ran into the ground, some of it being washed into long runnels by the fallout rain. So Blast stood there and watched while Garou not only struck Genos critically, but mutilated and maimed him to death. It was as if Garou was taunting him to try something heroic. And when Saitama finally arrived on the scene, Blast was just standing there. Uselessly.

Blast does not have the instincts of a hero.

Saitama rightly criticised himself for losing sight of what a hero's true duty was. I remember back when Sonic asked him who he was, he defined himself as the person who helps people when they are in trouble. [2] And he knows he fell short.

Blast appears to have totally lost sight of this fact. That's why his work is cursed.

A Hero Is More Than Mere Works

Without any doubt, Blast is strong. He is righteous but he's not looking at situations the way a hero should. He looks at things more as a warrior -- and it's not really helpful. He's forgotten the need to actually *be* a hero.

If I think about it a bit more, Blast was concerned for the health of the heroes on the field. Yet he did not protect them, even though he could have. He did not move them out of the way, even though he could have. He did not call on the rest of his compatriots to help him accomplish these goals, even though he could have and they would have helped.

I don't think that Blast is in danger of being deposed as the number 1 hero any time soon but man, it's as Flashy Flash says, his conduct is disappointing.

It's an insult to the heroes we've seen. I can't begin to imagine how bitterly Tatsumaki would be if she could have seen him. As the narrator said, she puts him on too high a pedestal. When I think of how hard she fought while never forgetting the helpless child, the civilians at risk, the rest of the strike team, and taking care of them even as it reduced her fighting efficiency, it's everything Blast ought to be. We saw so many heroes risk their lives to help others, even when they weren't of any strategic value.

Tatsumaki's determination to throw nobody under the bus, no matter how expedient, is the soul of heroism.

A hero is not merely their works. A hero is also what they symbolise. Amai Mask gets it: that's why he goes on and on about a hero being a beautiful symbol of peace. Saitama gets it: that's a big part of why he refused to out King because he symbolised being a hero so well. Mumen Rider lives it: even though he's not strong (by hero standards), he's greatly respected and people are inspired by him to do better in their lives.

What a hero is: someone who saves from danger, someone who reassures, someone who inspires.

Blast doesn't get it. When he had an opportunity to mitigate Garou's cosmic radiation and save lives, it did not occur to him. When he could have swallowed his pride and called back up to help him subdue Garou and save hero lives, it did not even cross his mind: he only saw a fight.

Since when was justice a matter of who can hit who harder?

And when he didn't prevail, he just stood there. When it was time for him to step up as a hero and actually take on some risk to try saving a life, he stood there, as hapless as any civilian. Even when it was hopeless, we didn't see the likes of Tank Top Master giving up. We didn't see Genos giving up on Tatsumaki, even when they were swarmed by Black Sperm. You don't give up on people.

No wonder his works are cursed.

How might the curse be lifted?

Some thoughts.

Never mind Tatsumaki: it's a rare hero who wouldn't be appalled. They all look up to Blast as the ultimate hero.

Fortunately, the only person who knows is Genos: it takes knowing how else things would have played out if Saitama hadn't arrived in the nick of time. Genos has no interest in trying to run down Blast: what little credibility he's got, he's used to tell Sicchi to ensure that Saitama got called up if Blast came up with anything.

Unfortunately, Sicchi hasn't passed on that message to Blast and Saitama's been allowed to go dawdling away. Even more unfortunately, what Sicchi has told Blast about Genos is that he's a terror who impedes access to Saitama. This may have terrible consequences down the line.

Talk about leaving out the important part. That 'is that so?' gives me chills.

You know how some readers are disappointed that the MA arc did not end with Saitama lecturing Garou about the importance of not compromising one's goals? It seems to me that Blast needs that lecture a lot more badly than Garou ever needed it in any version. He's forgotten that the point of heroism is the people you help *first* before it is about glorious fights. Important as it is to fight, losing sight of the human need in front of you is a hiding to nothing.

Or, if you want to put it differently: Saitama is likely to have a reason to confront Blast in the future.

Someone needs to hear this message and it's not the truculent teenage tearaways.

I am going to be there for it with a giant tub of ice cream!

Asides

[1] What was it that Awakened Garou said back in the WC: 'When facing an imminent threat against a monster, all you do is open your mouth and start babbling. It's an easy kind of job.'? (ch 85). It has applied very brutally to Blast here.

[2] In case you need a reminder:

That's the right thing to be. Saitama's been struggling since he forgot the brief a bit.

[georgiapeach30513]

Peach, you're the best! Thank you for posting that amazing pasta art! (And thank you to the lovely artist who made it =)) - Mrs Pasta.

That being said...I have a few things to say. No words of wisdom, just some thoughts. Some people will disagree with my takes but if you're here reading it, read it carefully and really consider what I said before you disregard.

Every time something happens that gets a certain portion of fans excited that "it's coming to an end," it is nearly always (99.9) followed by something that completely disputes that hope and gets everyone angry, upset, and riled up. It's time to pick up on the patterns, guys!

Ramen and Soba attended the GG afterparty for Soba's agency but didn't show up for the red carpet or awards show. It's got some people thinking Ramen fell off on the HW hierarchy food chain but people. Please. Let's be honest with ourselves here. Did they not attend because he couldn't get an invite since he's "so irrelevant" now or did they not attend because them trying to act like they know each other in real time, for the camera, would be a feat harder than climbing Mt. Everest? Why else do y'all think Soba attended the GQ event with Cup of Noodles instead? You know, the one where she actually did pose for photos and walk the red carpet? And flash her loaned jewelry and "wedding ring" but refused to speak to reporters because she had nothing to promote? It's giving "a...weird face wife that will never do an interview" XD

Every time something happens that gives another portion of fans the chance to "gloat," something else happens to throw a wrench into the mix. You don't question why only one "director" got a random picture of soba and ramen in the same bowl but nobody else saw them? And they can only be mentioned in a throwaway line by a Condé Nast publication (Vogue, Vanity Fair, GQ) and neither Ramen nor Soba could spring for a stylist this time? Looks like somebody doesn't want to make that red carpet debut...but why not? Aren't y'all married for the 50th time in a year and also expecting for the 20th time in the past two years?

Lastly. Just because Ramen has had a few pitfalls this past year does not mean that suddenly he's dropped to C-D list and that he's completely irrelevant in the industry now. I understand having critical flops can hurt your career. Of course it can. And in fact, I'm sure these pitfalls have hurt him. But remember that just because someone is doing well now doesn't mean they'll always do well, and just because someone is having a rough few years doesn't mean they'll never get a comeback.

I'd also like to close with a reminder to those gloating on about how RDJ is doing better and Ramen is failing in life...RDJ was once a drug addict and ended up in jail. My parents still mention this about him every time they see him on TV....people do remember when the biggest news of his career was him getting arrested. Also, after Endgame? Does anyone remember Doolittle? 15% on rotten tomatoes had people thinking RDJ fell off. And then covid hit and he was just doing his own thing for a few years. Now look at him. Looks like that awards campaigning worked! Because no disrespect, Robert, but your Oppenheimer performance was lukewarm at best. IMO, You deserved it more for Tropic Thunder and I say that as someone who genuinely admires you.

I hope I didn't ruffle any feathers. It's just tiring to see people ignore certain things for the sake of running with a narrative.

Love ya, Peach!

Mrs. Pasta, thank you for gracing us with your presence twice today. I honestly, have nothing to add to this great observation. I was just talking about a lot of these points earlier with some mutual about a certain even with a super shiny watch 🤭 I honestly never thought about equating Katt’s words about weird faced wife that will never give an interview to this 😵‍💫 but your’e on to something there!

Looks like someone reached into the depths of their closet to try and scrounge up a look last week, but what do I know?

Mrs. Pasta, I always look forward to your takes and observations.

@inshelliesworld created some cute little Mrs. Pasta art 😊

[beommiya]

"Such a naughty naughty boy you are!~" Xuan snorts upon realizing what Kibum was trying to do, undressing him little by little by pulling on the knot keeping the robe wrapped around the man's body. "You like the view, don't you? I guess that little 'sneak peak' from earlier wasn't nearly enough to satisfy you, is that so?" He was referring to when Kibum saw him putting the robe on, which the younger had vehemently denied doing. But Xuan didn't mind this at all, in fact it kind of amused and flattered him. Being looked at with worshipping eyes and with such desire and need, it really feed into his ego and his own desire. So, for an even more stimulating view, Xuan also flexed his muscles a little bit.

Another chuckle left the man's lips. "What can I say? I am a rather quick learner.~" Xuan then moved to the base of Kibum's neck to start kissing him properly, per the younger's request. The massage had now become a long forgotten thought, replaced by far more interesting and important matters. Kibum looked like a beautiful prince laid underneath him, with all his guards down, waiting to be claimed, and the sweet cherry scent filling the air created the perfect mood for something romantic and passionate, precisely what Xuan had been aiming for. "You liked it when I did this, didn't you?~" He was referring to when he touched Kibum's nipples, which now his fingers had returned to, to tease him some more. "It makes me very glad to see how much you are enjoying this, because I too am loving this shared moment between us..." Xuan moves up along Kibum's collarbone, leaving more passionate kisses in the way and even some occasional bites, here and there, meant to leave love marks that would claim the young man as his. But there was one problem... While the collar was hot on Kibum like that, it was posing an obstacle in Xuan's way to fully enjoy the surface of his beautiful pale neck. "I like the collar, but I think that by now, it's stay has long gone overdue. Maybe we'll put it back with another occasion...~" With that said, the green eyed man actually goes on to remove the collar from around Kibum's neck, being now certain that he won't try leaving him ever. They were clearly both infatuated with each other, trapped under this magic moment and blooming love that was slowly growing between them, an unspoken oath of faithfulness and loyalty, so there was no more need to use restraints in keeping the boy there.

The satisfaction grew even bigger when hearing Bum's request of never bringing Ian up ever again. It only meant one thing: he had finally won in successfully taking Ian out of the picture entirely and Xuan relished in this knowledge. "Then let's both never bring him up ever again. Now it's just you and I, Bummie my dear. From now on you are mine and mine only and I promise that I will make all your dreams come true." They were now facing each other head on, eyes interlocked and lips mere centimeters away from one another. The tension between them could be cut with a knife. It was clear what they both wanted in that very moment and Xuan finally went on and made it a reality by pressing his lips onto Kibum's, in a soft, gentle and very sweet kiss.

"What sneak peak from earlier? I don't know what you're talking about" he couldn't simply admit to such thing, and no, the sneak peak was not enough. He had to feel Xuan pressed against him, skin on skin, only then he will be fully satisfied. He continued to admire his body, eyes almost sparkling when Xuan decided that flexing his muscles would be a good idea. It was a phenomenal idea, to put it that way. The sight of his body barely covered up by a bath robe, with his beautiful black hair draping over his shoulders, was a sight that would leave many breathless and at lack of words.

He could spend an entire day simply looking at Xuan, admiring and worshipping, observing. But focusing on anything right now seemed like an impossible task. He even forgot he was supposed to be getting a full massage. Xuan's lips were now pressed to the base of his neck. The touch alone felt like a blessing but still, there was something in the way. And that was his collar. He didn't hate it anymore, he even started to enjoy wearing it but as of now, it was in the way of his pleasure. Kibum's neck was one of his most sensitive body parts. And the accessory was removed. And that's when a little bulb of light appeared above his head. He's been working to reach this step the entire time, to have it off him. His sweet escape was right there. He could literally excuse himself for a moment to go to the bathroom, knowing Xuan would allow him to. And that's when he could run away for good. But that was not an option anymore. He didn't want to leave his side, no, his heart sunk at the idea of leaving and even more so at the idea of Xuan getting bored of him in the future.

"From now on it's only just you and I" he repeated Xuan's words, his fingers combing through Xuan's long hair. His voice was nothing more than a whisper, and he even tried to get closer to Xuan, brushing his lips over the other's ever so lightly, the sensation very feather like. The world around Kibum felt blurred, the only stable part of his life right now being Xuan that was a breath away from him. And when their lips finally met guided by shared desire, Kibum felt a connection like he never felt before. Such a soft and gentle kiss, holding the heaviest of emotions in its touch. Time seemed to slow down, Kibum's heart filled with so much emotion, so much adoration. It was a meeting of souls, a merging of two young men who had found something profound in each other.

@phoenix-of-jade

[bluehoodiewoozi]

DRABBLE MARATHON #11:

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL + aquarium

0.5k words /// genre: fluff

Seungcheol thought it was absolutely adorable how excited you had gotten when he suggested a date to the aquarium. His heart swelled at every exclamation mark and heart emoji you sent him as you talked on and on about your love for the aquarium.

So when the day came, he had no qualms about paying for both of your tickets and he would have no issue paying for whatever you'd want from the gift shop after. 

Why? Because while you were staring at the numerous swimming by, the dim blue lights reflecting off your skin, he was watching you. 

A smile tugged at his lips as you rattled off “woah!”s and facts you read off the info stands. He was barely listening to what you were saying, more entranced with your voice. 

He never once protested as you directed him to stand somewhere, telling him you'd take pretty pictures of him and the manta rays. He didn't even need to fake a smile because he hadn't stopped grinning ever since you got to the parking lot earlier. 

As you gushed about how gorgeous your boyfriend looked in the photos you had just taken, he took your hand in his, wrapping his fingers around yours securely.

He didn't let go until you had made it all the way to the other side of the aquarium. You asked him to take a photo of you in the pretty blue lights, handing him your camera. But as you moved to go and pose, you found yourself stuck in his grip. You offered a soft glare. “Cheol.”

“Yes, dear,” he hummed, fiddling with your camera with his one hand. 

“Let go of my hand so I can go pose with the jellyfishes,” you told him, trying to keep from laughing.

He looked up to offer you a silly smile. “Why? You look just as pretty at this distance.”

“But I want the jellyfishes in the background,” you whined at him, tugging at your hand despite knowing he wouldn't let go. “Can't you let me go for a minute?”

“No.”

“Just for one minute.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I just like holding your hand.”

You sighed. “But I want a photo with the jellyfishes.”

“I'm not letting go of your hand,” he protested with a pout that was just about enough to break your resolve. “If I let go of your hand, you won't give it back to me until we leave. I'm getting jealous of the fish as it is.”

“You're jealous of the fish?” you laughed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Gosh, how can I say no to you?”

“You can't,” he responded simply before snapping what would clearly be a very unflattering close-up photo of your face – you dreaded to think what it looked like on your otherwise perfect camera roll. You rolled your eyes at that as he giggled.

But you still wanted that photo with the pretty jellyfishes and the pretty lights. You decided to compromise. “Fine, if you won't let go of my hand, can we at least take a photo together?”

He hummed in approval. “I like the sound of that.”

Note: today's upload was actually supposed to be a Park Jisung drabble, but I didn't like the drabble I wrote. so, by popular demand (read: @luvlino threatened me), I decided to upload a second Seungcheol drabble instead.

[moonieshinesims]

Generation One - Chapter Twelve

Now that high school is behind her, River wants to start fresh. She'll be in college soon and her birthday is approaching, which means she'll be a real young lady soon! She agrees to go with Havarti to buy new outfits and get a haircut before her big birthday party.

Things were already getting off to a bad start. As soon as River left the house to go to her therapy appointment, dread set in. She was going to be changing her look, quite drastically probably.

She didn't know if she was ready.

Therapy went well though. She got out some anger and frustration and left feeling a bit less pensive about her upcoming appointment with Havarti.

They met outside of the new thrift shop and boba tea place. Havarti had a great fashion sense, and would pick something out that fit River, she was certain of it, she was just scared how different it was going to be.

While inside, they found a photo booth.

"We have to take pictures!" River said, "Ya know, to commemorate how I look now. What if I forget?"

"How will you forget what you even look like...?" Havarti started to argue, then figured it wasn't worth it. "Ya know, that sounds fun. Let's do it!"

They got into the photo booth and took some funny posed photos. They ended up looking great. Both Havarti and River got copies.

Afterwards, River spent a while going through the clothes racks looking for something that she would be willing to wear. Havarti gave her pointers and told her what was "cool" and what wasn't.

It wasn't as stressful as River thought it would be, but it still wasn't how she'd prefer to spend her time. After they left, they passed by a Shang Simlanese restaurant, and River stopped in her tracks.

Shang Simlanese was one of her favorites! Dumplings, noodles, meat buns... She could taste the food before she'd even stepped foot in the place.

After a delicious meal, they ended up at Havarti's regular salon. River didn't think it was quite fair that Havarti was making her change her look, when Havarti had had the same hairstyle since middle school.

"My dad won't let me change mine! But you have the freedom to do whatever you want! So let's have fun with it."

That scared River.

What was even more unnerving was the fact that Rowan was her stylist.

"How long have you worked here?" River asked pensively.

"Oh, I've been apprenticing since high school, but now that we've graduated, I got a full time position!" Rowan seemed excited, "Do you know what you want done today?"

"No, not really." River shrugged, "Havarti just said I need a new look."

Rowan smiled and it sent shivers down River's spine. She and Rohan, despite being fraternal twins, were spitting images of one another.

"Ugh. I guess I'm gonna have to trust you!" River sat back in the chair and let her have at it.

About 30 minutes later, River looked down to see a mound of hair on the ground. It looked like a whole cat had been cut off her head.

She wasn't entirely sure it was her, but it was new, so she accepted it.

Afterwards Havarti treated her to a facial and a foot massage as well. Even though River had paid for their food earlier, the clothes, haircut, and spa treatment was about five times as expensive.

Havarti told her not to worry about it though. They were best friends, Havarti came from money, and she knew that River needed a re-do after the horrible year she'd had.

About a week later River's mom surprised her by throwing a big birthday party at the outdoor park and theatre in town. She knew her mom was doing something for her birthday, but she didn't realize it was something she would actually enjoy!

Her good friends from school all showed up - Havarti, Cassandra, and Koshari, along with some of her good acquaintances - Johnny and Hilde. Her family was all there too.

They had a white berry cake and grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. They even had s'more stuff to make at the fire pit by the projector screen.

At a certain point that night, after they'd all been talking and joking, while the friends were all standing around the circle, Johnny too the initiative to ask about her experience being kidnapped.

River was in such a good mood, that for once she didn't get emotional or scared when thinking about it. They were her friends and they should know what happened anyways.

"It all started after that party at the factory... I knew I was being followed, or at least I felt like I was..."

"...Turns out, he was at my house! Waiting for me! He drugged me and I passed out. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a cave..."

"...He kept saying that within a weeks time I'd end up in a better place, but I don't know what he meant by that..."

"...Thankfully I was saved by... someone." She didn't want to say it was Ichiban, because that would let everyone know he really was a criminal, even if he wasn't the one who shot Joe.

"But he was shot right in front of me. I didn't have a lot of energy, but I made it out of the cave anyways."

Her friends all looked horrified, even the ones who already knew the story. Thankfully her family wasn't around to hear what she'd said. She never really told them all the details, she didn't want them to have to worry about it.

The party continued on after story time. They ate more food, watched a corny scary movie, and played games.

Once most of her friends starting filing out, along with her family, she was left behind with only Koshari and Johnny. Her mom was concerned about her making it home alone, but she assured her she would be fine.

Johnny, who was usually a goofball, actually felt bad for opening up past wounds.

Talking to Johnny reminded her of talking to Ichiban. Not that they were much alike, although Ichiban was a goofball himself, but just the feeling of being close to a guy made her miss him.

After everyone had officially left she found herself wandering to the pier. The place she first met Ichiban.

She wandered off to the statue of Womp Womp and sighed.

Again, she wasn't sure what the future held in store for her, but she hoped that destiny would bring them together again one day in the future.

[moon-lixie]

Help - Seo Changbin

“But what if he tries to kiss me? You know I don't know how to kiss.” And just how he helped you calm your nerves and pick the clothes you would wear, Changbin helped you with this one last detail.

genre: fluff, 80s AU

word count: 2.647k

The music turned slightly louder as a result of Changbin´s nervous fingers toying with the stereo of your room, blasting Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen in a volume where you could appreciate every single word clearly. You didn't pay particular attention to that detail as you kept moving your feet back and forth in the air.

Laying down on your bed, your elbows supported the weight of your head that leaned comfortably against your palm. Under your concentrated gaze was a magazine acquired barely minutes ago as you walked back from school with your friend.

A deep sigh left your friend's lips, almost disrupting the calmness with the blatant distress that it carried. And for the first time in the last fifteen minutes your gaze fluttered over his figure long enough for him to snap his head in your direction.

Once his gaze started softening and his brows abandoned the previously furrowed state they had met your glance with, you moved your orbs back to the pages that lazily turned due to your slightly bored fingers.

Many Friday afternoons had been spent like that, with your friend hanging around your house or vice versa. It wasn´t often that you got bored or impatient for the night to arrive soon —because that meant parting ways with Changbin and that idea always sounded dreadful— but today was one of those days.

Today, when the night arrived, you would be going on a date —your very first one that is— and it stirred inside you an excitement that couldn´t be dampened by nothing in this world. Or so you thought before your friend released another awfully loud sigh.

“Could you quit whatever it is that you're doing? You're ruining the mood,” escaped from your lips with a fake annoyance that prevented him from tensing up any further.

He mumbled a quick and awfully faint apology but you still managed to make it out in between the familiar melody of Died in your arms that began playing as the voice from the man working on the radio station currently playing faded.

It was your turn to sigh as he started pacing restlessly around the carpeted floor of your room. Whatever was the thing that could possibly bother him that much escaped your seemingly limited understanding.

For a split second you considered asking him what was bothering him so greatly, but knowing him you were certain that if it distressed him enough for him not to even bother hiding his restlessness, it wasn't particularly something he would be comfortable to talk about freely.

He seemed to limit himself to look at the floor solely until his eyes travelled to one of the walls without notice. It wasn't the one covered with the posters of your favourite bands —that of course happened to be his favourite ones as well— nor the one where your window stared at the backyard he had sneaked into in the middle of the night more times that you could count with a single hand.

It had been the one where you had tried to do a collage of photos; you had ultimately given up one particularly hot day of the last summer that only added to the uncomfortable sticky feeling of glue drying on your palms and the lack of photos that had prompted you to carry a camera around the last months.

A small smile morphed Changbin´s expression into a less sour one, eliciting a smile of your own. The corners of his eyes began crinkling as he took notice of the fact that most pictures were of him or at least included his presence; for a second you thought you could blush in embarrassment, quickly discarting the thought upon realizing that if someone was aware of your lack of close friends it was Changbin.

Standing up you left the magazine open on one particularly unimportant page and walked to stand beside the person you loved to tease about his height.

Watching as his hand reached out forward, you took in how he ever so gently pressed the tips of his fingers on the white edges of the polaroid that perfectly encapsulated one morning on the nearby park that had risen upon you two not long ago.

A flash of sadness unmistakably passed through his pupils, worry setting itself deep within your chest.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked in a hushed tone as if raising your voice in the slightest would result in scaring him away.

Without words he tried to reassure you that everything was fine, softly shaking his head and flashing your way the smallest of smiles. If only you hadn't known him since you were both kids, then maybe you would believe he was really okay.

The exact moment you were about to give up on letting him drown in his own pitifulness and ask him what was going on, he turned around and quickly made his way to plop down on your bed.

Your right eyebrow quirked in amusement as you watched him reach out for the one stuffed animal he had given you for your birthday four springs ago, pressing it tightly against his chest. For a moment you caught yourself feeling slightly annoyed at him not hugging you, if he wanted to hug something so desperately you would've liked to be his first option.

After letting a small huff escape from in between your lips, you walked towards him only to playfully snatch the brown fluffiness away from his arms and ultimately lay down beside him after saying, “you were going to asphyxiate it if you kept going like that.”

“It was either him or you,” he said, this time mirroring your playfulness and seemingly letting his worries aside.

“First of all, who said that it was a he?” you said while shooting a disapproving glare to your friend, “and second, if I needed to sacrifice myself to save this poor soul then I would.”

“Don't say I didn't warn you.” Before you were able to question his words he lunged at you, his fingers tickling just the spots that had you trying to stifle your laugh with all your might.

Seconds later he hugged you close to his chest, laughs filling the whole room and erasing any trace of worry from his face. While you just begged him to let you go as a poor attempt of expressing that you wanted him to do the exact opposite.

His loud laugh died down as he let you go and faced the ceiling once again, only sporadically leaving his mouth as a breathy giggle that matched perfectly the ones bubbling up from your throat.

And then, just as silence began to install itself on your bed right between the both of you, he said something that surprised you, “isn't it time for you to get ready for that date? I mean, that's the only reason you brought me here, right?” His tone was teasing and playful, for a second it pulled you away from the daze that the thought of almost forgetting about your date brought.

Right then you had no idea but as you agreed you were also signing for an extremely picky Changbin who kept shaking his head in disapproval over and over again as you chose different clothing pieces from your closet, either because he had turned into a full fashionista on the last hours or just because he wanted to annoy you.

“I swear to god Seo Changbin, if you don't say that this is the one when I come out we´re going to have some trouble.” The comment seemed to amuse him seeing that he had snorted right away.

Taking one last look at the mirror above your sink, you opened the bathroom door and stepped right where he could see you perfectly. “So, how do I look?”

He could´ve laughed at the weird poses you were striking while trying to add to the simple set of denim shorts and the white graphic tee tucked inside them if only he didn't seem so out of breath.

The top you wore was one that you had bought with him one Saturday when you had the great idea of buying some matching outfits and he had refused until you finally convinced him to buy a simple t-shirt, just that.

“God, does it look that bad?” you began saying with a frown painting your features with worry, “I mean, it is a bit casual but you said that it would be better not to overdo it-”

“No, no,” he quickly interrupted what both of you knew would be a string of incoherent and unstoppable talking that erupted as a habit that came from pure nervousness, “you look great, really. This is it.”

One small smile brightened your face but did nothing to ease the nerves that increased as the excitement washed away, because your date was no longer a what if that could take place in the future but a fact that would occur without a doubt.

Your trembling hands reached towards your bed where most of your clothes had been left discarded, along with the magazine that just now you remember existed —without a doubt it would be crinkled.

Starting to pick up some stuff with the intention of cleaning up, Changbin soon joined you and bumped the side of his hips against yours before walking with obvious content towards your closet. It meant a lot to you that, just like always, he was trying to help you ease your nerves without being awfully obvious about it.

Quickly, you rushed towards where he was and pushed him softly to the side before laughing and putting some folded pieces of clothing inside its respectful cabinets. He didn't just brush it off and instead paid you back with the same treatment, beginning like that another fit of laughter that barely allowed you to be quick about sorting out the pile of clothing.

When you both finished the sky had turned into a deep and dark purple that threatened to end your precious time with your friend; you were beginning to judge yourself for being so impatient earlier when all you wanted now was for hours to stretch endlessly if it meant staying in his comforting presence.

His hand held yours and brought you out of your daze; your heart shouldn’t have been beating as hard because it was just Changbin. That’s right, just Changbin, your sweet and incredibly attentive friend, just that…

A comforting smile met your sight after he squeezed your hand gently to catch your attention. It was just friendly Changbin, and they were just nerves for your date, not butterflies.

Without a word he brought you to sit on the floor right in front of him, so you could be facing straight as his slightly furrowed brows and beautifully brown eyes.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, squeezing your hand one more time in the process. “Tell me so that I can help.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, a couple of hours before anyone would’ve thought those words would end up slipping from your lips, not his.

“I don't know,” you murmured quite uncertain of what to say next, so you just said exactly that, “I have no idea what to do.”

“Ask me then, I’ll help you.”

The tone of his voice, so confident and friendly, made you want to laugh out loud. “This isn’t like studying, silly.”

“We can pretend it is. Let’s say it’s a math problem we need to solve, you know I got your back.”

That you did know, he always had your back just like you had his. It had been an unspoken promise of two toddlers that still managed to stay perfectly immaculate.

You began speaking, asking silly questions and eventually moving onto the real ones, the things that worried you and made your stomach churn until you felt nauseous.

“And what if he tries to kiss me? You know I don't know how to kiss.” This particular question left your lips as a mere whisper; it had caused Changbin’s grip on your hand to tighten as he hadn’t let go of your hand since you both had sat down.

“W-Well.” His voice was shaky, it made you wonder if perhaps that was a question too difficult to answer or if you shouldn’t have mentioned it. Immediately your gaze traveled to the ground as you tried to hide your embarrassed expression.

“I guess I can help with that too.” And just how he helped you calm your nerves and pick the clothes you would wear, he helped you with that one last detail.

The fingers of his free hand brushed on your chin as he lifted your face for you to stare at him. He leaned ever so slowly, a small nervous smile coating his rosy lips whose colour matched the blush bringing liveliness to his face.

Time seemed to move terribly slow as his lids fluttered shut, seconds later it was your turn to close your eyes. Before you knew his lips were brushing over yours, his breathing fanning over your cheek in a tickling fashion that made you feel warm inside rather than making you want to laugh.

When he finally pressed his lips fully on yours it felt like you were melting, a tingling sensation travelled through your whole body and you squeezed his hand as tightly as possible.

It felt like years before he moved away from you, though you were aware that it must have been barely a couple of seconds. Just as you were pulling away, eyes still closed, his hand cupping your cheek, he spoke softly, “It would be something like that.”

A shiver ran down your spine when his breath fanned over your lips and before you even knew your lips were pressed against his once again. This time it wasn’t as awkward or stiff; in fact, he let go of your hand and moved his position for him to be kneeling. Getting closer to you seemed like his mission as his other hand gently pressed against your cheek that had begun feeling jealous of the warmth the other was receiving from his touch.

His lips moved against yours slowly and careful not to scare you away, for a second you could swear you tasted a tinge of the vanilla ice cream he had bought on the way home at the tip of your tongue.

This time as he pulled away you weren’t left with confusing interrogations that messed up with your mind but with a hammering heart that seemed to overpower the noise coming from the stereo.

“Or something like that,” Changbin said, chuckling to himself with satisfaction before sitting back where he had been like he had never once moved. But you could see it on the faint smile covering his lips that he was enjoying himself more than his timid hands were trying to show as they were shoved under the thighs of his crossed legs.

“I don’t want to go anywhere now,” you said in between breaths; he laughed right away with a warmness that reached your cheeks as well as your heart.

“I don’t want you to go either.”

The smile on his lips painted itself on your face as well; seeming to get out of a strange daze the music from the radio reached your ears with a newfound intensity that made you scared about possibly disturbing someone. That thought was left aside when you recognised the song playing, it was Friends will be Friends by Queen.

There were butterflies dancing freely on your stomach and a sense of comfort that made your heart sing. Laughing out loud you leaned towards Changbin once again; Freddie Mercury had no idea what he was talking about, because sometimes friends were much more than just that.

[elriell]

Chapter Two—  

[Chapter 1]

In The Absence of Light

Restless sleep continued to plague her the following nights, just as she had feared the cold spikes of anxiety that crippled her mind refused to ease up their battle for control.

Azriel never mentioned their tense early morning encounter, but she could not deny that after his departure she had finally managed to succumb to a few good hours of rest, and for that she was grateful. She put it down to simply feeling calmer after seeing a friend and refused to look any further in to why that would be.  

So, when Elain saw him over breakfast, she offered him a genuine smile and accepted the muffin he silently offered her in return. She tried not to dwell on the fact that he did not in truth look as if he had been blessed with a good sleep, as she had.  

~

Several nights had passed since then and time trickled by slowly, each night she found herself staring up at the ceiling, tossing and turning among the expensive linens, unable to settle down. Vivid dreams swirled around in her head; the same thoughts as always, they appeared to be taking up permanent residency, she was less than pleased with that realization.  

Every noise poked at her subconscious, taunting her mockingly. She let out a sigh at the ridiculousness of her thoughts, as if the branches crashing in the wind could possibly be trying to ridicule her, she truly was losing it alltogether. Taking a deep breath, she gave up on her quest for sleep and slid her feet in the soft pair of slippers and set off for the kitchen, doing her best not to awake anyone on her path, though she doubted she would, everyone in this house seemed to sleep through most her terrors.  

Lost in her own scattered thoughts she barely saw him lent over, in truth he looked as though he too was in his own world. Strong powerful arms flexed over the sink as he gazed out the window in to the gardens below. The dark leathery wings hung limply behind him, he painted quite the sorrowful picture, moonlight casting down upon him.

A fallen angel, infinitely beautiful and untouchable in an heartbreaking way.  

“Trouble sleeping?” His honey voice caught her off guard, she really had to stop being surprised when it came to the shadow-singer, his instincts were sharp as the thorns that she tried to avoid when gardening.  

“Seems to be going around these days.” A soft shrug. “I was just going to make myself something warm, would you join me?”  

He turned towards her at that and it struck her as it always did how easily he concealed his emotions, as if he could carefully tuck them away in a box and forget about them. His eyes however spoke volumes, they were devastating to her mental resolve, a crack splintering straight to her heart.

“I would like that very much.”  Agreeing gently.

Elain willed herself to focus on the task at hand; warming up some milk for the both of them. She felt more than heard him shuffle amongst the kitchen retrieving mugs and placing them to her left, returning to his former place. “Thank you for the other night— No, no, no... Please don't stop me, I want to, no I need to. I haven’t gotten that much sleep-in months, so thank you.”

A small blush crept up his face much to her quiet delight, it was such a rarity to pierce his stoic exterior.

She poured them both a cup each and set out to retrieve some cookies from a jar she had baked earlier in the day, once she had set a sufficient amount on a plate, she joined Azriel at the small breakfast table at the far end of the room.

Though dark out it was a beautiful spot, the whole side of the wall was built from different shades of stained glass and under the moonlight it shone a messy pattern of colors across the cobblestone floor, it had quite easily become one of her favorite places once her nightmares began. A colorful sanctuary to be at ease.

There were so many questions on the tip of her tongue, she wondered so much about him, about his troubles, his travels, about Nesta, who she had not received any letters from since her departure though that was no surprise all things considered. She wished she could tell her she had not known of the plans, wished she could have at least said goodbye, god, she wished for so many things.

Perhaps she would ask Azriel to take her on his next visit to the mountains, she filed that away for another day.  

“I suppose the tonic didn't work then?” He inquired before dunking a cookie in to his mug.

“Ah—” Hesitating for a beat too long. “It's alright you needn't lie to me; your secrets are your own. If you do not wish to say I shall not bring it up again.”  He jumped in before she finished.

Truth. She knew without a doubt he would not push her, would accept whatever she was willing to give.  

“That is quite alright, to be honest with you Azriel, I am not sure I quite know myself.” She considered it carefully. “I think deep down, beneath every excuse, I just, well I just don’t want to be...”

“Medicated.” He finished for her.

It should not surprise her after all this time, he was always able to read her seamlessly and understand her completely even when she wasn’t sure she understood herself. He was able to deduce that she was a Seer when the rest thought she was going mad, even her own mate, scoffing internally at the word. It was a shame, she supposed, that it had nothing to do with Lucien. He was a good enough man but she simply couldn’t handle the burden that such a bond posed after the events of last year.  

“Exactly.”

He was uncharacteristically sheepish when he asked, “It’s not my place, but is something wrong? Lucien?” He stumbled over the last word as if he found it hard to roll off his tongue. Odd. Azriel rarely if ever spoke on the subject of the former spring court emissary, almost seemed to avoid it at all costs.

Upon reflection she could not think of one time through their many conversations that he had ever inquired about him if she had not started the discussion.  

It was eery some days, it was as though he could see inside her soul, study her like a well-read book.

And if she was following that analogy through then she was certainly an old nattered forgotten book that was far too damaged to be of much value... She heard Nesta’s voice as the thought formed scolding her for thinking that any book would not hold its own important value in the world.  

“No.” She replied honestly. “I am not quite sure what is fuelling my problems only that they are rather determined at keeping me from a peaceful sleep. But enough about that, let us talk about better things, happier things, tell me about your favorite places to...”

And so, they would spend several hours hunched over the table talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing at all, refilling their mugs repeatedly as time faded away and all that remained was the moments within, the coloured light streaming over them bathing them in a pool of colours steadily shifting as the sun rose, not that either noticed until household staff awoke to prepare for the day.  

And when she returned to her bedchamber, she would not care on bit that she was still on the brink of exhaustion.

~

They developed quite a habit of it unexpectedly. At one point or another in the night when her sleep or lack there of, became too much to bare, she would wander down to the kitchen where inevitably he would be sat as if waiting for her.

She tried not to be so self-absorbed as to think it was solely because of her. But after the first few times happened and it became a reoccurring pattern, warm milk always lay on the table waiting for her, always warm, almost as if he could sense when she would arrive despite it changing most nights.

It did not help her ever growing endearment to him.

~

Although she knew Azriel would eventually grow bored of this habit they had formed, perhaps conversation would become tiresome to maintain for him but she promised to enjoy his company while it lasted.

He made her happy and the small private moments she would cherish among the bland parts of her day, though it wasn’t particularly healthy for either of them as it meant neither was sleeping much.

But it was a worthy sacrifice, all considered she was not sleeping before therefore she was not losing anything, however she did feel a twinge of guilt for the shadow-singer. Hoped it would not interfere with his day-to-day activities and not put him at greater risk whilst following out orders.  

But alas all good things must come to an end and last night would mark that for them both.

He had been uncharacteristically quiet all night, simply letting her ramble on about the new plans for opening up the back garden to prepare it for new flowers and wildlife, he had simply watched her for hours with a gentle “Mmm” and “Of course” along the way, in hindsight she should have guessed something was coming.

He arose from the bench first keeping his eyes locked to the ground, and fiddling with the lapels of his jacket seemingly trying to buy time, while the silence hung heavy in the air.  

“It seems there has been some problems arising in the northern territories and Rhys has asked that I head out for a few days to ensure it is nothing more serious.” Shifting his feet back and forth still reluctant to make eye contact.

“I see.” She really didn’t. “When are you to leave?”

The grimace was noticeable on his controlled face, “An hour ago. Give or take.”

He did not give her time to respond as he leaned over her, closer than they had been to each other in some time and he smelled like the woods after a rainfall if that could be a smell at all, fresh yet masculine. The kiss he planted on her forehead was so gentle had she not had her eyes open she scarcely would have felt it.  

Her lids fell and her breathing changed, and she wondered if one could feel as if their heart both stopped and raced at the same time, she was losing all sense of reason and by the time she regained her thoughts enough to open her eyes he was gone.  

His absence hit her quickly and she had to take a deep breath to hold back the tear stinging her eye, yet again she was left to her own devices. Perhaps it for the best that she not grow too reliant on his company, though she was infinitely grateful for his friendship and companionship she did not want him to feel burdened by her.  

This would give them some much needed separation and time to rebuild her mental walls and form some boundaries for herself.

~

The first night was not as bad as she expected and she tried to be optimistic that this was a new leaf for her.

Unfortunately, as she well knew nothing lasts for long, especially something good. Not for her. By the fourth night the dark void had returned in full to cause chaos on her mind, and so chaos spread, worsening night after night.  

Elaine’s nightly visits to the kitchen had not ceased they simply became a solitary adventure and as the week reached its end, she was near desperate for the relief of her favorite companion would provide.

Having overheard Mor speaking to Feyre in the lounge she was able to confirm that he had returned to the estate sometime midday, though his meetings with his High Lord kept him out of sight much to her disappointment.

She did her best to tame the growing excitement that bubbled up when she thought about his return.

Tonight, for a change she made no attempts to sleep simply busied herself with brushing out her curls and spraying her favorite perfume, feeling silly for going to such efforts. Truthfully though she knew that beneath whatever crush she had formed it had little to do with her attachment to him, it was his companionship and friendship she coveted most, he was a true and loyal friend, a rare thing to her these days.  

She made a promise to herself not mare it with her growing attraction. She refused to lose another person she cared about.

Which is why when she finally made it down to the kitchen after holding off as long as possible only to be greeted by an empty room, she felt her heart twinge. Feeling silly for simply assuming he would be there, for not even questioning it. Not that she blamed him, the kinder part of her hoped he was getting a descent nights rest again, refusing to think on it for long she made herself warm cocoa and set off for bed.

Unsurprisingly sleep did not come easy to her but at least on this night it was not the terrible evil that plagued her, rather the piercing eyes of her favorite spy.

As the hours ticked on and she grew more restless her body wrenched itself out of bed as if on its own accord, and paced a way across their home, it was as she reached the West Wing she realized where she had unconsciously ended up. It was not hard through process of elimination to work out which was his, no light shone beyond the door and no detectable sound either, though she doubted she would know if he was moving about.  

It was silly to have come all this way and she was well aware of how embarrassing her need to visit him was but as she stood with only a large oak door separating them, she understood exactly why she had come, because in that moment she finally felt calmer than she had all week, the anxiety that weaved its way through her reseeded slowly.  

She figured that it couldn’t hurt to stay for a few moments to calm down a little more before venturing back, it would not hurt anyone what they did not know.  

Unaware of when it happened, she found herself sliding down against the door until her bottom hit the cold cobblestones, it was a rather strange feeling that simply being in proximity to him would bring her such small comforts but so was the case as she felt exhaustion slowly creep over and when it came, she felt safe enough to let it take her, she closed her eyes and drifted away.

~

Pheeeeew, That was long and still a little sad but i promise it is going to get less DEPRESSING™️ I just want to lay the groundwork for what is going to happen 😉 I would love any and all critique as always, it is what fuels me!

Also i was almost finished writing the chapter but the title and colourful glass is inspired by the book I am re-reading with that name.

As always anyone who wants to be added or removed just let me know 🖤

@elriel-oblivion @elriel-incorrect-quotes @tswaney17 @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @stars-falling @verifiefangirl @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @julemmaes @thefangirlofhp @empress-ofbloodshed @elrielllll @abraxos-is-toothless @julesherondalex @courtofjurdan @amitynotpity @libraryonthepond @mis-lil-red

[stealingpotatoes]

The World As It Should(’ve) Be(en)

(feat. some illustrations with no consistent style that were all done in under ten minutes)

I know I’m not the only one who thought Delilah’s “The World As It Should Be” could have been a lot cooler.., so get this: what if there was another mission to dh2

(trust me it's a cool idea -- if you can’t be bothered to read, just look at the pictures) 

So EVERYTHING is the same up until the bit where you go into the portal. You roll up to Death To The Empress thinking that's the last mission... but no! You go in the portal and it gives you your end of mission stats! and you're like ?? wait what i thought i was about to go kill Delilah?

The ACTUAL final mission (and actual Delilah take-out mission) takes place in a Much Better version of The World As It Should Be. 

The final mission starts and you land exactly at the port where you start Death To The Empress, but everything is different about Dunwall. everything’s completely off and wack;  it's sunny, the streets are bright, everyone looks happy! there are flowers everywhere! It's super aesthetic and pretty. The clothing’s also different from the rest of the game. 

You walk through the same streets you walked through in the mission you just did, and there aren't wolfhounds and ppl patrolling the streets, it's not in ruin, it all looks very nice! (you land at the docks for parallels/ to make it very obvious what's changed, not because it makes sense). People are talking; they're happy! there are no guards about at all so you can walk freely and see it all, explore around this world. And the people are talking about how great empress delilah is, mainly. 

And as you go through, you find notes, books, and dialogue etc that hints to an entirely different past; in the first parts of dunwall, you find that delilah has been empress for like 26 years! not just a month and a half. The story pieces together as you go along, and you work out that this is a world where Delilah was never thrown out and her father's false promises were fulfilled. This is her world as it should be. 

But things keep happening to remind you that it isn't real; perhaps the sky sometimes turns to the Void, with whales floating above you, and things will somtimes momentarily look like a painting of Delilah's, not detailed reality. People’s speech repeats and loops too often. Creepiest of all, people randomly turn to stone, then back out, as if it never happened. If you put the corrupted rune in earlier, there might be more glitches than if you didn't. the glitches get more pronounced/ more obvious as you get closer and everything starts to feel a little too perfect, more and more as you go on. Everything becomes more uncomfortable. (And if you kill people in the world, nobody reacts at all. They just let you do it)

Plus, overall it feels like a very childish city? as if this might all be a little girl's dollhouse, not a real place. 

You make your way to the Tower, where you find that there’s a party going on. A really nice party -- puts Lady Boyle’s Last Party to shame. Dunwall Tower again looks super nice and aesthetic. The outfits are again really nice but again rather childish. 

A cool glitch here would be the partygoers keep stopping and just looking dead at you w no transition or anything. One second they’re talking, the next everyone at the party is staring straight at you. Then suddenly they’re talking again, as if that never happened. Also a lot of the partygoers faces repeat too often, reminding you that this is a simulation. 

In the tower/ closer to the tower, you find more history stuff, but it's more intimate/ detailed i guess? ONE VERY NOTABLE THING YOU FIND is letters from Jessamine (!!!) who is very much alive but is just -- and has always been -- the imperial princess!!!!!!!

The letters mention stuff that shows she and delilah are close. jessamine is in this and not suffering bc it's delilah's childish, perfect world! where nothing went wrong and jess is still her sister and del doesn't hate jess! (this is to kind of push it in your face that Del is Like You i guess, but also that smthn smthn she's still thinking like a little girl bc this all stems off childhood trauma etc)

Tho as people, not the player character, Emily & Corvo are ignored in the world as it should be/ there's no mention of jessamine's family bc this is delilah's world and she's not thinking abt other people. 

At the party, you see a woman who you discover is Delilah's mother, alive and well -- which again pushes the whole "this is delilah's perfect world". She talks to you a bit, talks about delilah. Makes you see a different side of her (but you can't be sure it's real; this is Delilah’s perfect, adoring world). She says she ought to go somewhere else. Things keep glitching, whales phase through the walls (it’s super cool). 

You continue through the party, when suddenly you see a woman in a dark dress. She stands out from the rest of the party, in their bright colours, and it’s pretty hard to miss her. This woman is none other than Lady Jessamine Kaldwin, your dead mother or secret wife (whose, bear in mind, soul you let go 2 missions ago). Her outfit is similar to the one in Delilah’s childhood painting of her, childishness of Delilah’s world repeated. 

The fact Jessamine is here makes Delilah almost more relatable (especially seeing as you just spoke to her lost loved one, her mother). It makes you understand her more because you know the protag wants more than anything to have a world where Jess lives. It helps you to understand why Delilah made this more. Actually, this whole mission is sort of "uhuhuh delilah is actually sympathetic" BUT you can still very much interpret it as her lying to you, because this is a manipulation of reality -- what's to say she isn't still lying?

Anyway, you can go up and talk to Jessamine (the game sort of encourages you to talk to her). But she doesn’t recognise you. Emily and Corvo don’t exist in Delilah’s false world, so Jessamine has never known you. It’s very painful for the protag (you can hear it in their dialogue), because their loved one is alive, but she doesn’t know you. You have dialogue options to try to convince her it’s you/ she knows you, but they don’t work. 

While Jessamine doesn’t recognise you, she does say she’d certainly like to spend more time with you. She tries to convince you to stay here, more or less (yes, Inception is one of my favourite movies, what about it?) But the protag says they have a mission/ that they need to see Delilah.    

Jessamine will offer to take you to Delilah, which results in a conversation -- will get to that later. The other option is keep winding through the party and to the throne room yourself. 

Either way, you get to the throne room, where you find Delilah. Again direct parallel. Same pose as before, but this time, her throne room isn't dark and covered in murderous vines, it's bright and full of adoring people/ partygoers (it’s a sort of parallel to the start of the game too, especially if you walk in with Jessamine).

 Delilah doesn’t quite know you’re here. She has a vague idea of who you are, but she doesn’t hate you at all. Breanna is by Delilah’s side, no matter what you did in the Conservatory. However, you don’t see any of the other Coup Crew members there -- this highlights how they were just tools to her, not people she cared for.

So you have three (yes, three — this is where things get even more fun) options here. Lethal, non-lethal, and the option I’ll get to later. 

Lethal is straightforward. You kill Delilah however (nobody stops you), and the entire world begins to collapse in on itself/ break apart and very disruptively becomes the Void again. This maybe ends with you having to fight/ assassinate some Delilah copies in the near empty void/ something more similar to the World As It Should Be as we see in game.

Non-lethal is easier if you placed the corrupted rune on the throne in DTTE, but you can still do it otherwise. It would of course be something to do with trapping Delilah in the World -- somehow cutting off the exit before you go so she can’t escape, should she realise this isn’t reality. 

If you pick either of these ways, you go through the portal again and return to the depressing and dark Dunwall, your Dunwall, and free your family member. (Or take the throne if you’re in super high chaos, I guess). All goes the same. 

Now, the third option. The third option is to stay in the false world. It’s to stay with Jessamine, in this perfect Dunwall. To get this option, you talk to Delilah after Jess takes you to her (though you can still talk to her without Jess guiding you, Jess’ll appear). 

Of course, you have the option to talk to Delilah and say this is all crazy, it’s not real, and proceed to do the former two options. But you also have the option to say you understand her or something, and she more or less offers for you to stay. 

When you first express interest in staying, the Outsider suddenly appears. He’s there to try to convince you that you need to get rid of Delilah, and that your other family member is frozen in stone back in the real Dunwall. But then what Delilah does, absolute madlad, is make a copy of your family member, but how they looked in DH1, not now (idk HOW, but she does it -- she is god in this part of the Void so she just can). Delilah wants you to stay, especially if you’re Marked. Jessamine also tries to convince you to remain here, and she’s harder to ignore. 

You again have the option to reject Delilah’s reality (you get a lot of options to do this), but if you choose to ignore the Outsider, you say something about him “wanting to keep power for himself”, just a lot of insulting really (being about as nice as he was to you, maybe.)e’ll disappear again, unable to stay in Delilah’s part of the Void. And you can stay with your unbroken family, with Jessamine who is alive. And not return to the real world, where you don’t know if your family member will be able to be revived from stone. 

(Seeing as Delilah was in Jess’ heart, perhaps she’s able to make a Jess who is almost the same as the Jess you knew)  

The third ending plays on the themes of “emily/ corvo has been ignoring the suffering in the Empire”. This is the ultimate way you can ignore it all. You can choose to completely and utterly ignore the now in ruin empire that you walked through earlier, and ignore all the people you promised to help along the way and everything you learnt. Or, you can show you’ve changed since the start, and go back to harsh reality. It won’t be nice, but you can’t ignore your people’s suffering again. Imo it gives the character more of an arc, rather than only having the option to return to the throne. 

But yeah, if you pick the third ending, the Outsider of course does his speech. He tells you how the Empire has falled to chaos, fallen to civil war, as everyone vys for the throne and its power. He tells you how your allies fare. And then you see Empress Delilah on her throne in the false world (you see a few glitches to remind you it’s fake). But then you see the protagonist and their family together. It’s a really cute family moment, and aside from the protagonist being the wrong age compared to their family (you’ve got adult Em with dh1 Corvojess, or dh2 Corvo with Jess and 10yo Emily). There are no glitches bc the protag would be ignoring them.  Everything seems entirely perfect. 

Anyways! I hope you liked this! Don’t get me wrong, I love Dishonored 2, it’s one of my favourite games. I just think the World As It Should Be was a sort of missed oppurtunity for something VERY cool. 

[tyunniverse]

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

[stoopsbookstore]

The Fan (Chapter 1)

Warning - Please beware of the fact that this is a Yandere AU and therefore will have violence, blood, and smut. Everything will have a trigger warning before every chapter. If you feel uncomfortable, please take caution when reading this or any of the Halloween Series.

"Do you always wear that stuff? The mask and glasses?"

Seonghwa pointed at the fabric covering the driver's face, Milton concentrating on the road before him.

"Yes, you never know what disease those creeps have."

"I know Yeosang had the flu a few weeks ago, but he should be fine now," an awkward chuckle came out of Seonghwa's mouth, Milton focused on the road, "why are you so tense?"

"Bloom is hosting an free impromptu fanmeet?" A red light stopped them, Milton hitting his steering wheel in frustration, "I need to get a good spot for Y/N."

"That's right, you're a fansite for Y/N! Why don't you ever come hang out with us. We could always use some tips from the great White Jasmine."

"Sorry, man," Milton turned into the parking lot, cheers erupting from the parking lot as the boys put on their fansite passes, "I would, but I prefer working alone."

"Working with friends can really help you. One of my friend, Hongjoong, helped San with his fansite."

Milton scoffed, "but working alone can hone your skills and you don't run the risk of someone possibly stealing your images."

"I guess," the awkward tension got heavier as the pair got out of the car, fighting their way through the crowd just as Bloom pulled up.

"There they are! Thanks for the ride!" Seonghwa took 10 dollars out of his pocket, handing it to Milton, his glasses becoming darker with every step in the mall.

"Pick your petal! Hi, we are Bloom!"

The camera flashes and clicks, the girls posing in their outfits designed in their respective color.

Y/N spotted Milton and Seonghwa, waving at them, the cream sleeve flapping in the air.

Milton was starstruck everytime he saw Y/N. Her beauty was unmatched, he only had eyes for her. The way her hips moved when she danced, the way her facial expressions shined, he was mesmerized everytime the group was on stage.

He checked the photos he had taken, most were great except one.

It was Y/N in her outfit, the skirt raising up a littls bit too much to reveal the white safety shorts she had underneath, the crease of her ass appearing.

"Maybe if the skirt was a little shorter, huh?" A nosy guy came up to Milton, looking at the photo, "How about if the shirt was lower cut too? Do you think they pa-"

Milton pushed the guy in a fit of rage, running away before any more commotion ensued. The guy crashed into Seonghwa, his camera falling to the floor, the lens shattering.

"Fuck, my camera! Maybe we should go, people are starting to get rowdy," Yeosang helped Seonghwa up, the trio leaving as Jongho kept snapping pictures of the girl group.

"What the hell happened?"

"That Milton ass pushed a dude into Seonghwa," Yeosang unlocked his car, the group getting in the vehicle, all in varying degrees of annoyance, "that bastard always ruins everything."

"He gave me a ride earlier, he's fucking weird."

"You got a ride from him?" Jongho bopped Seonghwa on the head, "dude, you're both Y/N biased, he could've killed you."

"But I didn't, so let's focus on the bright side and get home for this meeting."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa and Hongjoong waited for someone to answer the door, the shorter male scrolling through his phone out of boredom.

"You always come to these, but you say you’re not a Petal, what the hell?”

San let them in, the meeting being held at his parent's photo studio.

“They’re talented, but I don’t see the reason to chase them down and photograph every waking moment,” Hongjoong shrugged at the older man, “also, where were you this morning? I was waiting for you outside your apartment, but you never came.”

“Oh, I hitched a ride with that Milton dude, that guy who runs White Jasmine? He lives in the same building as I do or at least has a dark room there. He even wears that stupid mask of his when he’s there, he must really want to keep his identity a secret.”

“Are you talking about that Milton ass?”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were greeted by their youngest friend, Jongho, scrolling through a twitter feed of recent Bloom activities.

“Yeah. Did you see his post about how we need to respect the girls by not posting any wardrobe malfunctions?” Seonghwa plopped on the laps of Mingi, Wooyoung and Yeosang, “he’s fucking insane.”

Wooyoung slapped Seonghwa’s butt before pushing him to the floor, “he acts as if he’s married to Y/N, ‘she’s a treasure who deserves to be photographed with an eye most of your cretins don’t have!’ He called San a piece of shit!”

“This,” Hongjoong gestured around the room, “this is literally why I just listen to the music and save photos of the girls.”

“And by girls,” Yeosang pointed out, “you mean Y/N? Don’t think I didn’t notice your lockscreen is her.”

Hongjoong blushed, patting his phone in his pocket before flipping off his friends.

“Ugh,” Seonghwa groaned at the notifications he got, rolling his eyes, “that bastard just posted again.”

“Put it on the screen!” Jongho bolted into the room, popcorn in hand, “go! Go! Go!”

Hello, this is the White Jasmine fansite master, Milton.

I have noticed there is a certain group of you who objectify the girls of Bloom, mainly Y/N. These eight fellows, don’t think I don’t see that puppy dog following you idiots around, have treated Bloom like meat puppets, fawning over no safety shorts, a glimpse of a bra strap, the excitement of a nip slip.

The latest example is at the most recent

These are not Petals, these are perverts with cameras. I implore you, if you can, avoid photos by the sites Diamond Petal, Unique Thorn, Leaves, or any of those sexist little shits at the Ateez photography studio.

“He fucking doxxed us!” Yeosang yelled at the screen, “that’s illegal!”

I promise to continue to treat Bloom with the utmost respect I can and to make sure those creeps don’t get recognition for being fucking so willing to share inappropriate photos of the girls.

I promise.

-Milton

[kierkehaard]

Do Facts Care About Your Feelings?

Facts Don’t Care About Your Feelings (or, for short, FDCAYF). 

We’ve all heard this sentiment echoed before. In Ben Shapiro’s PragerU episode of the same name, on his Twitter feed, from the mouths of the millions of conservatives and alt-righters who tune in to his podcasts - the right wing has essentially heralded it as the be all and end all of one-liners to ‘destroy libtard SJWs’. At first glance, it seems like an impenetrable argument: after all, if facts did care about one’s feelings, then they’d cease to be objective. 

One thing I’ll credit Shapiro with is how effective this phrase is at conveying what he’s trying to say. It accomplishes multiple things at the same time. 

It:

1. Labels his opposition as ‘emotional’,

2. Makes a statement about the nature of facts, 

3. Establishes the possession of facts as incompatible with his opposition, and

4. Therefore implies that his opposition is blinded from the truth by feelings.

Hold up. Let’s take a look at Point 2 for a moment. It almost seems like FDCAYF is an epistemic claim; he’s discussing how facts work, and how we can get to know them.  I thought it might be interesting to see just how much this one-liner holds up to philosophical inspection.

Spoiler: eh, not much. 

How The Argument Works

First, let’s talk about what exactly Ben is saying here. He’s making an analysis of what facts are, and proposing a certain feature that all facts share (that feelings do not affect them). In order to figure out whether this is correct, we of course need to understand what a fact is. 

Many people, including some academic philosophers, would roughly define a fact as ‘a proposition that is true’. What this means is that, for something to be a fact, it must be truth-apt (be a statement that can be true or false), and it must be true. The reason why the first criterion is important is because it discounts statements that simply cannot possibly be true or false, like instructions or exclamations. ‘Go do your homework’ cannot be a fact because it doesn’t propose anything; likewise with something like ‘oh my god’ or ‘blimey’. On the other hand, a statement that does propose something that can be true or false like ‘tigers have four legs’ can be facts, as long as they’re true. That last bit is why ‘tigers have four legs’ is a fact, but ‘the grand canyon is a species of tiger’ is not; the former is a true proposition, while the latter is a false one. 

I would think that most supporters of Ben would agree with this idea of what facts are; I imagine most people would. But this poses a problem for FDCAYF. After all, there are some true propositions where feelings and perspectives do matter. The statement ‘Billy loves basketball’ proposes something that could either be true or false. Let’s also assume that Billy does, in fact, love basketball. The truth of this claim does depend on feelings - in this case, Billy’s. Going by this idea of what facts are, we have to accept that ‘subjective facts’ do exist, and that therefore there exist some facts that do ‘care about your feelings’. Many philosophers are comfortable with accepting this, but obviously a hardcore Ben Shapiro fan would want to defend the FDCAYF. Admittedly, this idea of ‘subjective facts’ is quite nitpicky when looking at the facts Ben Shapiro usually refers to when he raises FDCAYF; stats, scientific studies - objective facts. So for the sake of good faith, maybe we can raise a definition of facts that’s more charitable to Ben Shapiro: ‘facts are propositions that are objectively true.’ What we mean by objective here is mind-independent, with the truth of the statement not depending on any feelings. This way, the only ‘facts’ that we have to deal with are the ones that Ben Shapiro actually approaches. It also means that he by definition cannot be wrong about facts not caring about your feelings, which is basically shooting this entire analysis in the foot, but bear with me. In the next few sections, we’ll discuss how even this charitable idea of what Ben Shapiro means by ‘facts’ doesn’t really give us the full picture of how facts work. 

(PS: it’s worth noting that someone who sees the world as something leaning towards Idealism would reject this new definition as incoherent altogether, since under Idealism there would technically be no such thing as a mind-independent, wholly objective fact. But that’s besides the point, so we’ll save Idealism for another future post.)

Fact Versus Ideology

So. Let’s pretend everything we said earlier didn’t matter. We assume that facts by definition don’t care about your feelings, and so accommodate what Ben Shapiro uses as ‘facts’. Here’s the irony, though: it’s precisely by accommodating what Ben Shapiro says in context that we see this idea of facts fall apart too. Let me explain why.

The running trend with Ben Shapiro is that he’d claim some fact, then he’d promote it as an objective reason to support some conservative stance. For the sake of example, we’re gonna talk about the topic he arguably most famously does this with: transgender rights. More specifically, when he talks about trans people, he would point to the fact that they’re ‘biologically male/female’ to justify not referring to them by their preferred pronouns. (case in point here and here). He would use some biological fact, like how a male-to-female trans person would still possess XY chromosomes, to say that the conservative stance towards trans people is factual, and therefore conclude that those who disagree are simply ‘being offended by facts’ and ‘factually wrong’. 

Going back to our Shapiro-approved definition of facts, we can see that his claim on male-to-female trans people possessing XY chromosomes is indeed a fact. However, Ben is trying to push for something deeper than just stating a fact; he’s also making a call to action. The argument he’s forming here is that ‘trans women are biologically male’, ‘therefore trans women are men’, ‘therefore we ought not to call them women’. This is the part where it becomes real messy, because we realise we aren’t just dealing with facts in and of themselves, but rather their political relevance. And while the facts themselves could be independent of how one feels, the political values that one infers from them - as we will see - are not. 

What makes the fact ‘male-to-female trans people possess XY chromosomes’ more politically relevant than, say, the fact ‘koalas have smooth brains’? It’s the context under which we perceive the political. In other words, It is what we deem as politically problematic or politically relevant that leads us to decide which facts matter. The fact that trans men possess XY chromosomes might be a matter of huge importance to a neoconservative like Ben Shapiro, who thinks that one’s identity is defined biologically, but that fact would be less politically relevant to a more progressive-minded person - at least in determining a trans person’s identity - because they think that identity is primarily defined socially. It simply goes back to one’s ideology, and one’s general worldview of how society operates. Another example would be how the fact that ‘there are 6 times more empty homes than homeless people’ would be a matter of huge relevance to a communist, or a left leaning liberal, but would at the very most be a matter of curious interest to a conservative, simply because their ideology already inherently constructs an ‘if you didn't earn it, you don’t deserve it’ mentality. A fascist would find the fact that ‘African Americans, despite forming 13% of the population, constitute 50% of the prison demographic’ to be extremely politically relevant, while a socialist democrat would not, seeing that as explained ideologically through systemic oppression and injustice in the judicial system. There are countless examples we can choose from, because there are countless ideologies that each enable and are enabled by the facts that they find important. This isn’t to say that all ideologies are the same and that the one we choose to lean towards is a matter of subjective taste; it simply means that we shouldn’t deceive ourselves into thinking there is a fact-based reason to subscribe to one, and that people of other ideologies are not beholden to facts. In actuality, political discourse isn’t about what the facts are, it’s about which facts are important and give motivation to act. Ben Shapiro may be right in claiming that ‘[certain] facts don’t care about your feelings’, but how we use these facts does care about our values and worldview. 

Reason Versus Feeling

Our earlier paragraph discusses how he conflates possessing facts with possessing rational beliefs about what these facts mean, and we have gone through why this is problematic. But in making this assumption Ben actually commits to a more fundamental claim about rationality, and that is the drawing of a dichotomy between rational action and emotion. That is, he’s saying that one cannot be both emotional and rational. To be fair to him, this is not a very uncommon idea; think of the many times we’ve seen people say ‘stop being so emotional and use your head’. But that way of thinking, of ‘Reason versus Feeling’, might not be as clear and obvious as we think. 

Let’s start with understanding what it means to be rational. I think it’s fairly uncontroversial to say that to be rational is to act in accordance with reason; that is, to do what one has more reason to do. The prospect of getting a free chocolate bar could give me a reason to steal from the convenience store, but the stronger motivations of not wanting to be arrested for theft and not wanting to do something morally wrong would give me more reason not to steal, making not stealing the rational decision for me (well, assuming a perfectly normal circumstance). So what exactly is a reason? Such an abstract concept might be hard to define. But looking at the previous three reasons we’ve raised, we can try to come up with some necessary features of a reason. For example, we know that a reason can’t exist in and of itself. There’s no such thing as simply ‘a reason’. It’s always ‘a reason to do x’, or ‘a reason to believe x’. Reasons are always predicated on some other action or thought. This brings us to our second, and more important, feature of reasons: they always exist to justify or motivate a certain action or thought. They inform us about our motivations in acting on/believing something, and it’s through weighing our many reasons for and against this that we decide what is reasonable and rational. This obviously means that reasons are extremely diverse, and is the reason why philosophers like to make different categories of reasons when analysing them: we’ve got object given reasons (reasons derived from certain features of the object in question), state given reasons (reasons derived from the current state we’re in), hedonic reasons (reasons that involve our own personal pleasure and happiness)… but the category of reasons we’re gonna talk about today is much, much simpler than all of that: what about emotional reasons?

When we get ‘emotional’, it usually doesn’t just happen randomly out of the blue. Something happens, or we’re in a certain state of mind that makes us react emotionally. Certain states of affairs gives us reasons to act emotionally, and then we evaluate whether or not said emotional reaction is a justified response. Granted, many times we end up acting emotionally and irrationally. But that doesn’t mean that every emotional reaction is not reasonable or rational. If Steve steals my lunch, it is reasonable for me to be annoyed and tell Steve off. It’s not reasonable for me to murder him in a ravenous fit of wrath, but that’s because I can evaluate that this emotional response in particular is not warranted. In fact, think about every time someone got mad and asked one of his friends ‘was I being unreasonable for acting that way?’, or every time a parent had to ask themselves whether they were too harsh in their reprimanding of their child. If emotional reasons didn’t exist, then these questions would be useless and meaningless, since every emotional reaction would be irrational. Arguably, the whole subreddit r/AmITheAsshole deals with the problems of sorting out emotional reasons and deciding whether or not the emotional reaction these reasons led to was reasonable. The assumption about the distinction between rationality and emotion that Ben Shapiro makes when he says ‘Facts Don’t Care About Your Feelings’, then, while not one that is altogether uncommon, is not really all that sustainable, since our feelings and the way we act from them can be evaluated from a rational lens. 

As a matter of fact, even our favourite neoconservative himself does this evaluation all the time. Every time Ben decides that a condescending retort is in order, every time he reacts with incredulity at another ‘outlandish leftist headline’, he is deeming this specific emotion as an appropriate reaction. But we usually don’t think of these things as acting emotionally. The point I’m trying to get at here is more than just Ben’s inconsistencies with his own dogma; it’s driving more towards how we treat emotion as a whole. We don’t usually think to call contempt and condescension emotional, despite the fact that they technically are. In fact, we’d celebrate them as ‘savage’ or ‘absolutely destroying’ someone (think ‘Ben Shapiro versus SJW cringe compilations’). On the other hand, we’re quick to see those who express outrage and anger and compassion as being emotional (and, to some, therefore irrational). Our discussions and analyses about what exactly constitutes reason and how emotion fits in are all well and good, but the discussion simply wouldn’t be complete unless we also talk about how we as a society approach this issue. And judging by the looks of it, we evaluate what is ‘emotionally irrational’ based not on what actually is emotional, but rather based on what emotions are socially approved. Delivering a ‘sick burn’ is perfectly reasonable and great, but getting ‘triggered’ is uncool and going off-the-hook. Worryingly, what we judge as being an irrational emotional response isn’t just about the scale and extent of the response, but the type of emotional response itself, and it’s not altogether clear why we should believe that some emotions are simply inherently more irrational than others. Natalie Wynn, better known as Contrapoints, puts it better than I think I ever could

Perhaps a more accurate, albeit less catchy, phrase that describes what Ben Shapiro means in FDCAYF is that ‘Rationality Doesn’t Care About Your Feelings’. But the line he draws between the rational and the emotional, as we’ve seen, doesn’t really work all too well. Practically speaking, when we’re dealing with issues as sensitive and important as politics, sometimes being emotional is precisely the reasonable thing to do. 

Conclusion

Writing what’s essentially an entire essay on one single statement, on hindsight, might have been a bit of an overkill. But I do think there’s a lot to be said about FDCAYF and how it’s used. I absolutely agree that we should be looking at hard truths instead of what our ‘feelings’ would want us to believe, and I absolutely agree that people can sometimes get unreasonably emotional. But the truth isn’t as simple as that. Emotions aren’t something to be reviled and altogether avoided in politics, and we can’t separate facts from the ideological context that enables them to be political. And while Ben Shapiro and his followers aren’t particularly known for their attention to nuance, I think it is at least important that this nuance be known. 

[marshmallowatheart]

To All The Boys I've Loved Before (Part 16)

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

“Okay, what’s going on?” Logan finally asks, hands on the steering wheel and eyes on the road but he’s too well attuned with his surroundings to not notice the giggling kids in the back seat.

“Heather and Darrell are playing cupid,” Veronica remarks, chewing on a piece of liquorice as she twists around in her seat to get a look at the giggling duo.

“Cupidress,” Heather corrects. “Or well you could just go ahead and call me Aphrodite, the goddess of love.”

Logan chuckles, brows perking up, amused, “Alright, Miss Goddess of Love, who are you aiming your arrows at?”

Veronica tilts her head and informs him, “Nope, Cupid’s the one with the bow and arrow," she points directionless at him with her liquorice as he drives. "Aphrodite has a magic girdle.”

His lips curves, remarking, “Chill out Athena, I was talking to Aphrodite here.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, munching away, trying to focus herself on the scenery outside instead of the boy next to her. “Sure, Poseidon, get back to your mixed up mythical references.”

“Sheesh, someone’s testy this morning.”

“Not all of us can sleep through the car ride like Wallace here," she jerks her thumb in the direction of the back seat where Wallace is leaning his head against the window, snoozing away until they reach the zoo. "And I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Thoughts of me?" He quips, batting his lashes. "Hey, I get it. Sometimes I’m up all night, just thinkin’ about myself.”

She resists the urge to smack his shoulder since he's driving and settles for making him regret his unwanted snark. "Actually I was baking a chocolate cake for us to have for dessert but guess who just cost himself a slice?"

Logan groans, he wants to look at her with pleading eyes but he doesn't want to take his eyes off the road for too many seconds. "C'mon, Veronica, don't I get credit for driving us all there?"

"Nope, you wanted to drive," she mercilessly points out.

"Heather asked me to drive," he retaliates. "Who am I to deny the kid her wish?"

Veronica sneers at the reminder. "I drive perfectly fine, thank you very much and if she had a such a problem she could have rode with Dad and Mrs Fennel."

"No!" Heather objects, almost leaping out of her seat to defend her choices but thankfully has on her seatbelt holding her down. "The whole point is that Dad and Alicia can have some alone time!"

"Oh," Logan lets out, comprehending who her two victims of love were.

"And she said you drive like you're in a NASCAR game," Darrell points out and Heather objects with a loud hey for the treachery. He shrugs, "That's what you get for sticking me with the middle seat."

"Urg!" Veronica huffs. "That happened once! And I thought we were being followed by the E-String Strangler. And maybe you shouldn't get any cake either."

"Who wants a piece of the leaning tower of Pisa anyway?" Heather snarks. "Besides we want ice cream for dessert, not cake."

Veronica lets out a long psshhttt sound and grumbles, "It goes down your throat the same either way."

--vm--

“We’re getting on the bus!” Keith eagerly says, map in hand, ready to go.

“Dad, no," Veronica whines, she's hungry and hot and wants to just sit and eat something - anything - before they start their journey from one end of the zoo to the other.

“It’s only half an hour Veronica. Half the zoo, half an hour," he emphasises like it's a bargain they can't possibly pass up on.

"I've got snacks," Alicia interjects and Veronica's eyes are drawn to the overly big beach bag that Alicia's carrying. "You can have some to tide you over until we can eat," she offers with a smile and Veronica eagerly accepts, looking at her best friend's mother like she's a savour sent from above.

"Sandwiches are life savers," Veronica hums happily, settling on the upper level of the double decker bus with Logan next to her. She admits, it is easier to take the bus but hunger takes precedence over everything else and Veronica's never been more grateful for Mrs Fennel.

Logan chuckles, nodding his head and stares at her adoringly. Yesterday while surfing he'd come to many revelations; one being that he's gonna show Veronica just how real they are. He's come to understand her a lot in their short time together and knows he can't lay out his feelings to her just yet.

She'd been firm in the fact that she doesn't want to date him and doesn't like him but he feels like that's changed - they've changed - in the sense that she does care about him, has fun with him, can be honest with him and maybe all these feelings were always there buried underneath the spells of her letter. And now he's opened the letter - broken the spell - he's seen her bared feelings and he wants to open her heart and see what's in there now.

She's been hurt, she has trust issues and she'd rather leave before she's left. She has all these pre-determined notions in her head and he's hoping he can deconstruct each one and in time she'll come to see him as he sees her.

So he's doing his best, showing her he likes her, showing her she can trust him and showing her that he's there - that he's going to be there. And he can see that she's doing the same even if she doesn't realize it yet.

“Ronica," Heather says, bright eyed as she turns from her seat in front of them. "Make sure to take out some good koala-ty pictures,” she giggles and nudges Darrell, who's looking excitedly at said Koalas and giggles along with her.

“Don’t worry, she’s got the koalafications,” Logan winks, instantly joining in before Veronica can make a snarky remark.

"And if she's underkoalafied, we just have to bear with it," Darrell outright laughs along with Heather, the two thoroughly enjoying themselves the moment they stepped out of their houses.

"So glad I could be of amoosement to you," Veronica remarks, straight-faced and seemingly exasperated. The kids giggle wildly and Logan chuckles, happy that she's not really upset and Veronica obligingly snaps shots of the Koalas hugging the trees and eating leaves.

"Guess what," Wallace leans forward in his seat, his head popping between Logan and Veronica, startling the couple.

"You've finally found where they're stashing the unicorns?" Veronica pipes, hope springing in her eyes.

"It's better than unicorns, Vee," he grins widely, suddenly full of energy unlike his earlier slumberly state.

"Damn, man," Logan chuckles. "You've got it bad."

"You would know," Wallace reproaches, nudging Logan with his shoulder from the back.

Logan peaks at Veronica and she shakes off his look. "Is this about Georgia?" She asks, brow arches, already knowing the answer.

He bobs his head. "She said she can meet me at the zoo. Isn't that great?"

"Ronica," Heather calls out once again. "Look," she says, pointing to an Orangutan swinging on the tree. "It's you!" She bursts out in giggles.

Veronica huffs. "Oh and look at that, you're right there next to me," she sticks out her tongue, unwilling to be defeated by her little sister.

"Who's the eleven year old, again?" Wallace chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm eleven and a half," Heather points out, firm in the fact that she's not merely eleven anymore.

“Oh, hey, Heather, look it’s you,” Veronica smirks, gesturing to the Tasmanian Devil, a cheeky smug look on her face while Heather gasps.

“I happen to think it’s adorable,” Logan winks, earning Veronica a playfully triumph tongue out from Heather.

--vm--

Heather obsesses over getting a picture with everything. And more so, she obsesses over getting Logan and Veronica to take coupley pictures together whenever she sees coupley things. Like if two animals are being cute together or if there's statues that seem romantic - not that there are many - except maybe for this one particular statue. It's a statue of a sailor, dipping a nurse and kissing her full on the mouth.

Veronica hasn't denied her sister much but this is one of the things she simply cannot do and Heather whines, "C'mon, Ronica, it'll be so romantic! I mean you dragged Logan to the zoo and you can't even give him one kiss?"

Veronica gaps at her little sister. "You dragged Logan to the zoo and I'm not gonna kiss Logan like that here with dad right there! I'm not insane."

Heather concedes the point but she's not happy with it. "Urg, fine, but I still want a picture of you two with the statue. I need proof to send Meg that you actually have a boyfriend."

Veronica sighs, she's been meaning to tell Meg about Logan's new role in her life and now that everyone but Meg knows, she really doesn't have much of a choice.

She's standing next to Logan, their fingers laced with a camera ready smile in front of the statue as Heather snaps a picture and shakes her head, asking them to try another pose.

It takes three more tries before Heather is satisfied with one where they're gazing into each others eyes.

She leaves them be and turns to her father, begging him to let her take one out with him and Alicia.

Keith chokes back a cough while Alicia chuckles, accepting the request. Veronica's just glad that Heather didn't demand they kiss in front of the statue like she'd done with her and Logan.

--vm--

“I am a koalafied match-maker,” Heather brags, puffing out her chest and twirling around like the power of love has given her unreserved energy even though it's the end of the day and everyone else is exhausted.

“Oh, are you now?” Veronica arches her brow, she's holding Logan's hand and they're walking up a nearby park to set up a nice evening picnic. Alicia has prepared a variety of food and kept it in a warmer in the car along with a cooler filled with water and soda. They also have Veronica's homemade chocolate cake for dessert that Veronica's been coaxed into sharing with Logan. And Logan has somewhat been coaxed into getting ice cream for the two kids - three kids including Veronica.

"Mmmhmm," Heather hums, she's smiling wide, proud and again she's got that 'I know something you don't know' look on her face. "Just look at you and Logan.”

Veronica's hand tightens it's hold on Logan's. “Me and Logan?”

Heather notices the look on her sister's face and freezes, decidingly changing her mind from saying anything more because one, Veronica looks stricken and two, she doesn't know if Logan's supposed to know what she knows.

Veronica stares at her little sister, she's got a feeling that she needs to know what Heather knows so she lets go of Logan's hand and dashes after the now running girl. She feels an adrenaline rush hit her because it all makes sense if what she thinks is true, she just doesn't know why her sister would do that to her.

"Heather, get back here," she calls out, she's the star of the soccer team and she's beaten Heather many a times at racing so it's only a matter of time until she catches her.

Logan stays rooted in his spot, deep confusion spreading over his face as he watches the girls get further and further away, everyone else is setting up for their evening picnic and he wonders if he should leave them to it or catch up. The moment Veronica had tightened her grip on his hand, he'd felt the tension right to her fingertips.

Heather is hiding behind a tree, darting back and forth so Veronica can't grab her. "Okay, I was the one that sent out the letters," she admits, hoping her honesty gets her some mercy points with her sister.

“I’m gonna kill you, you little brat," Veronica lunges across and Heather darts away as quick as her small body allows.

“Oh, come on, Ronica, Logan’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you," Heather makes her plea. She can see the difference in sister's life; everyone in Veronica's life let her live in her comfort zone and Logan brought her out of it in a way that didn't seem all that uncomfortable and Heather figures that's a rare thing to have.

“Veronica," Logan calls out, jogging to the girls.

“You didn’t have to send out all five!" Veronica says as she thinks of how messed up everything has gotten with Duncan and how she's now keeping secrets from Meg.

Heather pouts, puppy eyes are out and her head tilts, just like she'd learned from Veronica and she slightly shrugs, “I thought five chances at a boyfriend were better odds.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Logan holds Veronica steady before she could once again dart to her sister and Heather quickly runs behind Logan. “What’s going on?”

“Veronica’s being totally irrational," Heather says, her adrenaline rush catching up to her.

“I’ll show you irrational," Veronica grunts, trying to move away from Logan but he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight against him with a soft but firm, hey - a hey that's reminding her that she's going attack mode on her eleven year old sister.

“She sent out the letters," she tells him, her anger slowly subsiding.

“Oh," he lets out a breath and loosens his hold on he see her face. "Well, you can forgive her since it worked out, right?” He gives her a pointed look.

“I just wanted you to be happy, Veronica," Heather softly admits.

Veronica sighs. “I wasn’t unhappy.”

“But you’re happier with Logan, right?” Heather peaks, still slightly behind Logan but now can visibly see her sister's facial reaction.

“Right," Veronica pats Heather's hair, softly, letting her know that she's forgiven. "But you owe me one."

Logan leans down to Heather when Veronica starts to to walk away, "Hey, kiddo, I owe you one," he winks and Heather brightens, all regret officially thrown out the window.

"You better not hurt her, Lo," Heather warns. "Especially not since you've got the Mars seal of approval."

He chuckles, rubs a hand over her head like Veronica had done. "I don't intend to," he softly says. "Thank you, Heather."

She bobs her head, smiles widely and drags him along to the picnic; she's glad she invited him.

[justanalto]

49. "I didn't know you could do that" - Mackelena or FitzSimmons?

sfhdsjkalhfsa this ask isn’t timestamped so i forgot when you asked me this but I finally got it!! thanks so much for asking! Mackelena or FitzSimmons

As far as skills went, Elena Rodriguez-Mackenzie (yes, exactly in that order) thought she’d seen the gamut of them in the first few years she’d been married to her husband. After all, you didn’t become a SHIELD agents (or marry on, for that matter) without acquiring a considerable set of skills. Mack had more than proven himself in all areas of their relationship – he’d presented to her a buttery filet mignon their first date, kept her in stitches throughout, and had even offered to clean up following dessert. (Not that Elena saw that as a deciding factor. It’d just made her feel a little more appreciated.) He could hold more than his own in a political debate, and when he couldn’t took it upon himself to learn about the subject until he could.

 (“It’s important to be informed,” he’d shrugged when she asked him about it one night. “A lot of things we have to deal with today? Ignorance is usually at the heart of it.”)

When they’d stopped in Greece for their anniversary, he’d taken her to dinner at the fanciest restaurant Athens had to offer, but instead of staring at each other the entire night, they’d watched as the coastline burned some distance away, the result of corporate greed and (apparently) some accidental arson. She’d woken up the next day to find their bags packed and Mack with his phone pressed to his ear.

 “Yessir. I’ll get her the coordinates as soon as possible. Tell them to prep for disaster relief.” 

“Where are we going?” SHIELD didn’t need them already, did they? She and Mack had fought long and hard for this vacation – they weren’t going to go back a damn day earlier than they’d asked for. “Was that Coulson?” 

“Yeah, and he’s sending backup. We’re going down the coast.” 

“I thought we were going to the beach.” The causes of the fire had resonated something deep within Elena, having been at the receiving end of her own share of government gone wrong. But Mack had been so excited to go to the beach and eat out, she figured she’d just sneak out at night to help. The people had deserved at least that much. “You’ve been talking about it for weeks.”

“And I can see it in your eyes.” When Elena opened her mouth to protest, Mack raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile. “Don’t tell me you weren’t going to find a way to go help those people when I wasn’t looking, Yo-Yo.” 

“You would’ve been too slow to notice, anyways” was her answering remark, but she took her bags with a renewed rush of affection for her husband. It was exactly like him to give up something as rare as their vacation (on their anniversary, no less) to go help people that were more in need. It was one of the reasons she’d seen him in the first place. 

Besides, she was sure he got enough of a treat when Coulson let her loose on the politicians, watching amusedly with the rest of the team as Grecian man in double-breasted suits were thoroughly dressed down in fluent Greek by a short Colombian woman wearing a t-shirt patterned with bright pink flamingos. 

The picture still hung on their mantle. 

Needless to say, Elena was plenty confident she knew the extent of her husband’s skills. The last surprise had been when was carrying Natalia, Mack’s surprising ability to read IKEA instructions coming in handy when their daughter announced her presence a month early. Since then, they’d picked up parenting skills up together as a duo, days spent learning to prep bottles and swaddle tiny humans tinged with warm bouts of laughter. 

(She wasn’t allowed to speak about his skills in bed. Daisy had expressly forbidden it after she’d caught them in a supply closet one day. “I don’t wanna hear about it!”)

Those days were now behind them, however, and their bottle-prepping days were now replaced with chauffeuring ones. Depending on Natalia’s preference that month, it was dance lessons, soccer practice, or track and field. Mack had been happy his daughter was taking an interest in everything under the sun, but even had to admit it was taking a bit of a toll on their wallets. They were going to have to have a talk soon – one that Elena was not looking forward to.

“Daddy, we’re home!” Natalia announced as soon as she and her mother stepped through the door. The activity of the month was dance lessons once more, and Mack had warned his daughter that she had to stick with them for at least six months – so far, she was holding true to her promise, even looking to perform that winter in the concert. “Wanna see what I learned for Swan Lake today?” Without even waiting for an answer, she ran through the house looking for Mack. “Daaaaadddy!” 

Elena laughed, setting her keys down. “Turtleman,” she called, “your pequeña bailarina is home,” She could still hear Natalia bouncing around the house looking for her father, so she joined in. “She learned how to do a – damn word’s in French to begin with, how am I supposed to remember it in English, a uh. It’s a twirl.” Mack would know what she was talking about, anyways. “One of the hard twirls. You’d be proud. I think she got my footwork genes.” That and Elena’s spunky attitude seemed to be the two main things Natalia had inherited from her mother. They weren’t too sure about the Inhuman genes yet, but Simmons had assured them that they’d be well prepared when or if they showed.

“Daddy, I talked to Auntie Mel today!” Had her daughter really not found him yet? Hm. Normally, Mack would’ve scooped her up already. “She said I can come visit her next week! And have tea with her! Have you ever had tea with Auntie Mel, Daddy?”

“Mack?” Elena peeked into the different rooms of their house a little faster than she normally allowed herself, but the fact that Mack hadn’t responded yet to either of them was somewhat concerning. “Turtleman, where are you?” When each room turned up more empty than the last, she had to work a little harder to push down the panic threatening to work its way through her system. “Mack!”

She finally found him in the deserted study at the end of the hallway, headphones in and bent over a sewing machine. “There you are, both of us have been looking all over for you. May called and said Talia could visit next week, and the dance teacher wants to know if she’ll be signing up for lessons in the spring –”

Mack took off his headphones. “What?”

Elena stood there for a minute. “I – never mind.” She looked down at the sewing machine to see a large mass of pink velour being run through the stitcher. “Are you…are you sewing?” 

“Talia’s costume for the jazz portion was too long,” Mack answered, and it was only then that she registered the small click-clicks the sewing machine was making. “Took it to May in the hopes that she could help, but I’m guessing she hasn’t seen Talia long enough to see that she’s grown. A lot.” He dryly held up stretch of cloth Elena vaguely identified as a pant leg. “She cut the pant leg to her knee.” 

Well, it certainly had been…an attempt. “I didn’t know you could do that,” she hummed. Better he tried than she did – she’d never had an eye for delicate crafts and suspected she never would.  “When did you learn how to sew, Turtleman? And when did you learn to use a sewing machine?”

“Back in the days of home ec,” Mack chuckled. “None of the other kids thought I’d be able to make a stitch because my hands were so big. Scored the highest on the final because of my stitches.” Elena watched as he switched pant legs, running the cloth through the small threader. “What were you saying about Talia?”

“Daddy!” Natalia burst through the door as if they’d choreographed the entire sequence. “I learned how to do a pirouette today. We had a diff’rent teacher in and her name was Miss Bobbi, her hair was really gold and shiny –” both parents exchanged a slightly confused and alarmed look, Elena having learned enough about the disavowed agents to know Bobbi and kids didn’t mix – “and when she called my name, she had to cough a lot.” 

“Did she now?” Mack asked, amusement coloring his tone. “It was probably just a really long name, bailarina. After all, I thought my name was long enough until your mother’s came along.” 

“She said to say hi to you. Do you know her, Daddy?”

 Mack really jolted then, the sewing machine coming to a quick halt. “Why would I know your dance teacher, silly? You just met her, too.” The machine started up again, and Elena sighed in relief. “She’s just being funny.” 

Natalia seemed to take the answer at its surface. “Yeah. She was funny. She yelled at the other guy in the office a lot.” Mack finished up the pants, shutting off the machine and beckoning his daughter close so he could see if the legs matched up.

“Good as new,” he announced. “You ready to go back to the fifties, Miss Talia?” The younger girl stared down at the pink pants and psychedelic swirl top before striking a dramatic pose. “That a girl! Perfect, kiddo.” He held his hand out for a high-five, which Natalia met with a cheer. “Your winter concert is gonna be so great. I can’t wait.” 

“Auntie Mel said I could come visit next week, too! I talked to her today.” Natalia beamed at the thought of getting to spend time with her aunt and turned to her mother. “Mamá?”

 “What is it, mi hija?” 

“D’you think Auntie Mel was alive during the fifties? Can I ask her?” 

Both of them could already see the fallout that would occur from anyone inferring May was old – and it wasn’t pretty. The scenarios already had them shuddering in fear. “Mamá? Daddy?” 

“Maybe it’ll be best not to ask her that, honey.”