#maybe ill get into tea exclusively so i can go there more often

[pseudonemisis]

I just went to a tea shop to get some chocolate and the owner remembered who I was and asked how I was and told me she was proud of me for finishing my paper. Excuse me while I cry in a corner about the beauty of humanity

[fireemblems24]

Post Grondor Field AM Analysis

I'm prefacing this by saying that I'm still not sure I can write a good analysis of this scene for two reasons:

1. I don't know what comes after, and

2. I'm very emotionally involved in what happened.

But I tried my best. One thing is for sure though, what happened in Grondor in AM was an incredibly significant turning point for AM and Dimitri and my thoughts and analysis on it will definitely expand as I keep writing about and playing the game.

Part of me is just so happy I got to see Dimitri's supports, have the inevitable turn around, and get to do things like tea and dinner time again that it's hard to be objective about this scene.

And by "this scene," I don't mean that actual fight at Grondor, but everything from Fleche's attack to Byleth's words in the rain later.

It wasn't all about Byleth . . .

Given how poignant Dimitri's character arc has been so far, I had a deep rooted fear player-pandering would ruin it. Byleth, as a concept, isn't bad, but too often the heaps of praise feel underserved and other things (like Claude's intelligence, Edelgard's relationships with everyone else) get ignored to make more room for player-pandering.

Thankfully this did not happen. Byleth, throughout the early chapters of AM's part 2, failed to reach Dimitri. And, honestly, seeing Byleth actually struggle for once has done wonders for how I view her character. Still, I worried that player-pandering-power, rather than something that felt earned, would cause the inevitable eye-opener for Dimitri.

But it wasn't just Byleth. Fleche's vengeance kicked everything off, what veered Dimitri away from his fate in other routes. He accepted his death at her hands, not bothering to defend himself. Rodrigue stepping in the way and his parting words forced Dimitri to confront things he'd ignored. Throughout AM so far, people have posed questions to Dimitri who refused to answer them because he didn't want to face what they asked. But Rodrigue dying for him, spending his final words telling Dimitri to live for himself - combined with Fleche's attack - forced Dimitri to confront things he avoided. It wasn't until after all of that when Byleth steps in.

And Byleth didn't "fix" him either. Dimitri's supports show a young man who's still very much struggling with his mental health, poor self-image, his previous actions, and wondering if he deserves not only to live for himself - but if he even deserves to live. Byleth didn't hand-wave Dimitri's problems away.

Everything about the scene is stronger because it didn't fall back on player-pandering, but more earned, realistic, and dramatic actions and consequences - including Byleth's involvement which felt far more earned than usual because of prior failure.

But I wish Dimitri's friends played a bigger role.

Not everything was perfect though. I wish we got a little more than we did from Dimitri's house mates - especially his childhood friends Sylvain, Ingrid, and extra special mention to Felix and especially, especially Dedue.

Throughout all of AM, none of the above mentioned characters feel utilized to their full potential. This isn't a problem exclusive to AM, and by all means it's far from the biggest offender, but given how close all the ties are in AM, it's felt when it's not there.

I still don't know what exactly I would've done with them. Maybe I'd need to make the game an actual novel to do it, and you can't forget how perma-death has historically held back games at times, limiting major moments to a select few "retreat" candidates.

Still, though, getting a bit more from Ingrid, Sylvain, Felix, and Dedue would've made the scene even more powerful.

I actually really liked the scene in the rain.

I haven't made it a secret that I dislike Byleth. Or maybe disliked is more accurate. Lately I've been rethinking my stance on Byleth, in part because I've heard from people who like her or found ways to make her work and from my own thinking about the game while planning future write ups.

I don't think it's Byleth I really dislike, but the player-pandering. Separating the two isn't easy, but it's easier since I've starting coming around to seeing Byleth as her own character.

There's been a few moments that made me care for Byleth, and this scene in the rain was one of them. Because she didn't just fix everything. She tried and failed for months to reason with Dimitri, and despite everything she never gave up on him or failed to keep offering her hand.

I'm not going to lie. I got all the bubbly, heartwarming, heartbreaking feels the writers wanted me to in this scene. Seeing Byleth reach for something and fail, and then finally, finally get through was rewarding in a way many of Byleth's prior accomplishments aren't because this one felt earned. And by God did she earn it.

Some people will likely disagree with that last point, but I disagree with them. She asked Dimitri hard-hitting questions, forcing him to come to unpleasant conclusions rather than trying to force him into anything. She kept Dimitri from veering to far off course, even at expense to herself when she killed Randolph. She saved Dimitri from Fleche when he refused to save himself. She quietly supported him, coaxing out the good she knew was still there and refused to give up on.

I'd never in a million years say someone in real life should put up with Dimitri's toxic behavior and verbal abuse, even considering his extreme trauma and aggravated mental illness. But seeing someone fuck up so badly still get forgiven, still get supported, still struggle but honestly change for the good, still get loved, start to accept and forgive himself through the power of love and forgiveness from others is very powerful, especially since media so often downplays those "softer" things as weakness in comparison to the "badassery" of ambition and stoicism. Using Byleth, who previously had little experience with feelings, who was encouraged to experience them in healthy ways by Dimitri, return the favor isn't really the worst choice.

It's cliche, but cliches aren't always bad.

The mentor dies. Redemption in the rain. Revenge against the protagonist's actions opens their eyes. Etc . . . This scene was chuck full of cliches, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Tropes serve an important narrative purpose because a writer can rely on them to convey a message to the audience that either saves time or sets them up for something unexpected or even expected. Fire Emblem has always and will always be incredibly cliche and full of tropes. It loves tropes so much there's in-universe ones that make some unit or character discussions sound like a foreign language to people outside of or new to the fandom, talking about "Ests" and calling someone a "Camus."

What matters is if a story pulled something off well, not if it's terribly unique. A mentor dying is powerful because it forces the student to grow. Redemption in the rain is high symbolic of water washing things away + the somber atmosphere rain creates. Someone trying to get revenge against a character provides an eye-opening experience about the ripple effect of their actions. We see these things in fiction all the time because they work.

All the tropes worked like expected in this scene. Using images instead of cut scenes did make less of an impact, but more on that later.

Tl;dr: There's nothing unexpected or terribly unique about what happened. It was honestly painfully predictable, but that doesn't make it bad and is in a series that does this all of the time.

The voice acting carried because those images can't.

A major downside to this scene is that it used vague images instead of a cut scene. I get that budget and time were likely concerns, but many cut scenes from earlier in the game seem rather trivial. Did we really need that dance one? Really? I don't think so.

This was a hugely important, action heavy moment. Using one or two still images to convey everything that's happening and all those emotions, really makes it less than it could've been.

That said, the voice acting saves it. I've raved about how amazing Chris Hackeny is as Dimitri, so nothing new here. Rodrigue's and Fleche's VAs also did a fantastic job. No one oversold or undersold the emotions. Even without the cut scene, you felt what happened thanks to the skill of the actors. This scene would've been so much harder to engage with without them, if this was an older FE game where all you got was text. This is 100% one of the moments highly elevated by the decision to have a fully voiced game and choosing high caliber talent (let's not talk about Radiant Dawn's voice acting).

Questionable support timing.

One issue I had came right after the scene when I viewed Dimitri's supports. The nature of some - like his with Raphael and Alois - didn't quite line up with the character I saw in dialogue right after. I wish they staggered them a bit more or got picker about what you could get in part 1 or 2.

This isn't limited to Dimitri either. In the same support batch, I also got a Marianne B support where she still had no confidence or self-worth. And then like 10 minutes later I talk to her in the monastery and she mentions about how seeing all the death in Grondor made her value her life even more.

In the past, I've also received entirely valid opinions that Dorothea in part 2 is hard to understand because she's cherry and flirty in her supports, and morose and hates the war in her monastery stuff, making her seem inconsistent.

It's a bit jarring. It's not really an issue for characters who don't change much like Edelgard or Raphael, but even for characters with more subtle differences than Dimitri, Marianne, and Dorothea - like, say, Lorenz - you get a lot of weird stuff because of supports. I just think Dimitri's stands out because he's a main character with a really prominent, important turning point for his growth.

[toraodwaterlaw]

Heart to Heart

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

This is the final part of a four part AU fic set just after Marineford. Law is the latest Corazon, but Rosinante is still alive.

1681 words (6638 total for all four parts), angst with a happy(ish) ending

-

Whenever he returned from a mission, Law would appear like clockwork as soon as night fell. Normally. This homecoming was anything but normal. Rosinante didn’t think much of it that first night. Law had looked worn to the bone. Rosinante had hoped he was getting rest. When Law didn’t turn up the next night, Rosinante started to worry. He checked carefully with Viola and found out Law hadn’t left his quarters once, even to eat.

That settled it. As soon as he was sure there was no one around to interrupt, he slipped into Law’s room and closed off the outside world with a snap.

Law was at his desk, medical charts and texts spread before him. Rosinante assumed Law was reading until he got close enough to see those golden eyes were fixed on the window. He was staring beyond the edges of Dressrosa toward the distant horizon. A single black feather was clutched loosely in his hand.

“Hey, kid.”

Law’s fingers twitched. For him, it was about as good as jumping in surprise. “He still hasn’t put the strings in your lips back.” This didn’t seem to be addressed to Rosinante. It certainly wasn’t directed toward him, as Law continued looking out the window. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I noticed.”

Every word continued to be a struggle for Rosinante but he would talk until he could no more if it got some reaction out of Law. As it was, there was an emptiness in Law’s eyes that was far too close to the look he’d had those first meetings on Spider Miles.

“Would you look at me?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much. You still need time to heal.” Law reached across his desk to place the feather on the windowsill. He replaced it with a quill and scrawled something out on a scrap of paper. “Here’s a list of teas and other natural remedies to help your throat.” 

Rosinante took the note as it was passed back to him. “I appreciate it but—”

“I’m working on a salve for your lips.” Law rooted through bottles on his desk and on shelves to the side. He pulled open drawers on a cabinet and picked out different packets of fragrant herbs. They were all arranged carefully across the desk. “Some of the ingredients need time to cure before they’re ready, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer. I’ll write out instructions so that you know just what to do.”

Rosinante hugged his arms to himself to keep himself from grabbing Law to put a stop to all the anxious movement. The boy already had his movements controlled enough as it was. And it wasn’t what Rosinante really wanted.

“Law. Look at me. Please.”

Law sighed and turned slowly in his seat. His eyes immediately flicked to Rosinante’s chest. Rosinante had pulled on a light sweater for the meeting. The telltale hole in his chest couldn’t be visible but he knew it was all Law saw anyway. Law reached a hand toward it before quickly pulling it back to himself.

They were facing each other, which was a start, but Law didn’t seem any more inclined to talk to him. Rosinante frowned and then immediately winced at the pain it brought. At least now, with Law looking at him, he was free to us his hands to sign.

Are you okay?

Law scowled. “Me? I’m— you’re the one with a—” His frown deepened further and looked away again. He clutched at his own chest. For a while it seemed like he wasn’t going to say another word. In the end, voice low, he added, “I took your heart.”

His voice sounded as raw and pained as Rosinante’s.

Rosinante placed a gentle hand on Law’s face. He turned it so that he could get a better look at the bruising. He wished he knew what else Law was hiding because he was certain that there were other injuries. Law was no more one for covering up than Doffy was, so his crisp, black shirt doubtless covered injuries to his torso. Rosinante wished he knew what else was being hidden from him. He knew by now, though, that Law would simply brush off any such inquiries, so he’d try another approach. 

What happened?

Law waved him off. “I was stupid. Straw Hat had a nightmare about his brother and I was too close when he woke up. Seems he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of me trying to hold him in his bed so he wouldn’t reopen his injuries. I’m fine.”

Rosinante must have looked dubious because Law’s frown deepened.

“I am,” Law insisted. “I did a scan to check for serious injuries to be sure. I’ve had much worse. I’d be healed up by now if I had a chance to actually get some rest.”

Then why don’t you rest?

Law crossed his arms. He’d grown so much. He was a man now but there were often times Rosinante couldn’t help but see him as a child. Shrink him down a number of feet and he could have been ten again with as stubbornly sullen as he looked. Not that Law hadn’t had plenty of cause to be sullen, but Rosinante did sometimes wish he’d make more of an effort to smile from time to time. The boy’s face was really going to stick like that someday.

“I had two patients with life threatening injuries and then I had to work overtime to get here as soon as possible. I haven’t exactly had time, you know,” Law said with a tone he usually reserved for Trebol. It was a voice that said he thought he was speaking to someone who was being exceptionally dull.

Rosinante frowned at him in turn, disregarding the pain it caused to do so. You’re back now. He resisted the urge to add a request for Law not to take that tone with him. One of them would be an adult here.

Law’s eyes flicked over to his bed a few times. His hands absently fingered at his bangs in a sure sign that he was unconsciously hoping for his hat. It was a habit he’d never managed to grow out of, even though he usually didn’t wear it these days. Not having his hat to hide beneath, he turned around once more.

“I tried to sleep, alright? It didn’t stick,” he said.

Rosinante waited for an explanation that didn’t come. Law had to be absolutely exhausted if he hadn’t gotten a single good night’s sleep in weeks. It was amazing he didn’t just keel over on the spot. Law did excel at existing on spite alone but this was pushing it, even for him.

Rosinante placed a hand on Law’s back and found it was trembling. He rubbed soothing circles and waited. He wanted to demand Law tell him what was wrong. The urge would always be there, to search out all of Law’s ills and try to cure them through stubbornness alone if he had to. However, there were times to talk, to push, and then there were times to wait. Getting Law to open up about anything was so often a game of patience. If it was up to him, he’d bottle up his emotions until that bottle burst and destroyed him. Rosinante wasn’t especially inclined to let that happen.

Law became so still that Rosinante might have suspected he’d nodded off if not for the irregularity of his breathing. Rosinante stilled, also, and waited.

“Every time I try to sleep,” Law said, “I see you. I see Doflamingo with your heart and all the things he might do to you because of me.”

“Not because of you.”

Law looked up at him. “Your voice—”

“My voice be damned,” Rosinante all but growled. “And Doffy be damned. This is on him.”

Law’s face fell. “I didn’t have to give in. I could have resisted more. I should have. And I didn’t have to act on some stupid fucking impulse at Marineford. I’ve been so careful. I threw out over a decade of work and for what? Some kid who thought he could take on the entire World Government and a rival Warlord. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking you could help,” Rosinante said. “You saved their lives.”

“Their lives aren’t as important as yours.”

Rosinante didn’t try to dispute that. He knew it wouldn’t do any good. And besides, he knew the feeling. He’d burn the world down if it meant keeping Law safe.

Instead of arguing, he knelt down and pulled Law into a tight embrace. Law’s breath hitched. All the emotion he’d stubbornly shoved down finally broke through and he started to cry in earnest. Even someone as bullheaded as Law had his limits. Rosinante was only glad to be there to hold Law together so he didn’t break apart.

“I’m proud of you,” Rosinante murmured.

There had rarely been truer words. He’d been scared for Law’s sake, of course, but he’d been so proud when Law first called him to say what he’d done. There were times, despite all his faith in Law, where he worried this life would be too much. It would be easy for Law to let this all change him. Perhaps it would even be better for him if he did. Less painful, certainly. But when he had a chance to show who he really was on the inside, he’d done something amazing. Something neither he nor Doflamingo nor even Rosinante himself had expected.

Not that Law would hear any of that. “You shouldn’t be,” he muttered.

Rosinante rested his cheek on top of unruly black hair. “Well, I am.”

“Well, you’re an idiot.”

Rosinante laughed and pulled Law closer. “Maybe. But I can be an idiot and rightfully proud of you, kid. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

Law let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so drowned in tears. Then, in a voice so quiet Rosinante had to strain to hear, he said, “Then I’ll try not to let you down. Idiot.”

[agathasangel]

leave everything behind but me- part 2 (diane sherman x fem!reader)

Warnings: Same as last time, Diane is still super dangerous. TW for drugging, stalking, talk of abuse, sickness, anything else you may expect from Diane. Also no smut but there’s implied sex.

Summary: Diane started at her new job, the reader becomes suspicious that Diane may not be who she says she is but has also began to develop more romantic feelings for her as she recovers from her mysterious illness, which ends up taking a turn for the much worse.

Diane started her new job as a science teacher at the local high school, but she still made plenty of time for you. You were still not feeling much better and often felt numb from all the painkillers the woman gave you, but she said she would make a doctor’s appointment for you as soon as she could.

All the jobs that you had applied for dropped you, so you spent most of the time Diane was at school looking for new jobs to apply for. She told you not to worry about money, that the High School paid her enough to support you as well as herself, but you told her you needed to feel like an adult and she respected that.

It had been a frustrating couple of weeks, no doubt, but the nights you and Diane spent together made everything well worth it. The two of you spent every night together, just you. You would cook together, and sometimes she would take you out if you were feeling up to it. You wondered if maybe your relationship would evolve into something of a more romantic nature. Or maybe you hoped.

One day you suggested that you come to school with her to help her and get out of the house and you swore her initial reaction was one of... panic?

“No! I mean... that’s not possible, I’m sorry.”

She also seemed to be hiding her papers from you. But you saw one and you soon realized that it was because all of the homework and lab reports she graded were for “Ms. Barronway” and she introduced herself and “Diane Sherman”.

“Oh... um, well, I’m used to using Sherman, it’s my married name but since my husband is long gone, so I’ve started using my, um, maiden name, Barronway, at school.”

That made perfect sense to you in the moment, so you dropped it. You felt sorry for Diane, having lost both her husband and daughter. You were glad you could be there for her. You just hoped you could give this woman all the love that she needed.

One night you tested your luck with the older woman. You were on the couch with her late at night, watching a movie and talking and you shyly moved in to kiss her. Diane grabbed you by your waist and kissed you back, harder.

“You’re so tense, my sweet girl. Relax...” she cooed in your ear as you let her take control, and finally, lead you to her bed.

Ever since that happened, you assumed that you and Diane were officailly together. You knew it was weird because she was so much older than you, but it just felt so natural. 

“You make me feel so loved, (y/n). I’ve never really had that before.”

You also learned that Diane was horribly abused as a child, and your heart broke for her. As bad as your relationship with your own parents was, and as difficult as your own childhood was, you couldn’t even imagine what she went through. You learned all this when you saw the scars on her back one night.

“Are you disgusted?”

“No, Diane. I could never be disgusted by you.”

“You’re so wonderful, (y/n).”

“I love you, Diane. You mean so much to me.”, you said as you kissed her.

The two of you started almost exclusively sleeping in her bed. She was always very gentle when she touched you, as your body was still struggling hard to recover from whatever illness you had. While she held you at night, you heard some of her whispers to you.

"My girl. All mine.”

“I love you, Diane.”

“I love you, baby girl.” she said as she kissed your cheek and settled as the two of you started to fall back asleep.

But, unfortunately, your life with her wasn’t perfect. As you started to recover and go out more with Diane, she became increasingly possessive and jealous. There was one particular incident that happened when the two of you were at a restaurant and the waitress slipped you her phone number. She had been flirting with you for your entire meal and you tried to make it clear that you and Diane were together. She clearly wasn’t taking the hint, as she kept mistaking Diane for your mom. Diane was growing angrier and angrier by the second, until she exploded in the car.

She was yelling, “You were leading her on, it was like you wanted her to flirt with you! You were staring at her. Have you forgotten everything I had done for you? How I took you in and took care of you when you were too sick to do anything for yourself? How I support you? She couldn’t love you the way I do, no one can, do you understand, (y/n)?”

“Diane, I wasn’t doing anything! I was trying to make it clear that I’m with you. I love you Diane. I’m yours.”

“Well you weren’t doing a very good job then, were you?”, she said, with so much anger seeping in her voice. You couldn’t stand it when Diane was mad at you.

“No... I’m sorry. You’ve done everything for me, I should be more grateful, I-” you said as you began to cry.

“Hey, hey, (y/n), I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

One you got home, Diane made some tea for the both of you and curled up with you on the couch. You swore you saw her put something extra in your tea, but you were too afraid to ask her, and you thought maybe it was just the sugar or something. The tea was very sweet.

Almost as if she had put in a ton of sugar to mask the taste of something else, you thought. But no, that’s impossible. Diane loves you, she cares so much about you. She would never try and drug you, that wouldn’t make any sense!

When you woke up, you were throwing up again. Diane was right there, taking care of you, making sure you didn’t have to get out of bed because you were too weak to walk without seeing stars.

“This is my fault, (y/n).”

“Huh?”

“I think I stressed you out too much last night. I shouldn’t have yelled, I know how much that scares you. And while you weren’t fully recovered, I- the stress must have made you relapse. I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Diane said as a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, “I’m going to dedicate myself to taking care of you. I’m going to take off work today, alright baby?”

“Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

Your doubts started to clear, but there was still a little voice at the back of your mind saying 

What if?

What if she did drug you? What if she wanted to hurt you? 

And if she did, would you still be in love with her anyway?

It scared you that you knew you probably would.

She came back into the room after calling into work and you decided to just ask, “Diane, why did you pick me up?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Please, just tell me.”

“I picked you up because you looked like you needed some rest. And maybe someone to mother you for a while. It hurt me seeing you all dirty and sleep-deprived without even having money for food.”

“So you don’t like seeing me hurt?”

“Seeing you sick like this breaks my heart, (y/n). You have no idea. You’re so sweet and helpless and I love you so much.”

“And you would never hurt me?”

“Hey! Why do you think I would ever hurt you? I’m taking care of you now, why would I hurt you?”

“I- I don’t know. I don’t think you would. I’m just... scared.”

“What brought this on, sweetie?”

“I- I don’t know. Let’s just drop it, ok? I love you, Diane, that’s all that matters.”

“Right. I love you, (y/n), baby. I’m going to get you something to eat that’ll be easy on your stomach, ok?”

“Thanks, Diane. I love you.”

Her laptop was on the bed, and you took it to google your symptoms. The browser was open to facebook, and before you could change it you noticed that Diane had two accounts.

And then you saw that the second account belonged to Anna, the girl you planned on moving in with. You gasped and shut the laptop quickly, not wanting to believe any of the implications of what you saw. You were so shocked, and started to feel lightheaded.

And when Diane walked in, she saw you blacked out.

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

The 4 Times Luke Got Sick + The 1 Time He Got Julie Sick

Pairing: Julie x Alive!Luke (college AU)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: light swearing, non-fatal illness

Summary: Luke was always getting sick. It was probably the worst things about being roommates with him, Julie decided. That, and when they’d first moved into their dorm Freshman year of college he’d tried to hit on all her friends. It seemed like every year the poor guy went through at least one serious bout of illness that Julie would have to practically nurse him back to health from.

A/N: I got 2 anon requests for sick!Juke this week, one for a College Roommates AU where Luke constantly gets sick and Julie takes care of him and another where they’re friends and neighbors but have crushes on each other that don’t come to light until they both get sick together feat. Mothering Rose. I decided to combine them since they had a similar theme, I hope that’s alright! As per usual, let me know what you think and send me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist! Also, I am taking requests right now so feel free to send those in!

Masterlist

___

1 - Freshman Year

“Juuuulie,” Luke called from his bedroom.

“Whaaaat?” Julie called back from her own room, making no attempt to get up from her bed.

“Can you come here so we can stop yelling?” He whined and she rolled her eyes but rolled out of her bed unceremoniously.

Given the coed nature of the dorms, they were each provided a small separate bedroom connected with a combined living room space that currently could use a good vacuuming, she noted as she walked through it before pausing at Luke’s door. It was only about three months into the semester and while Luke and Julie had become fast friends through their love of music, she hadn’t really been in his room before.

She raised her fist to give a hesitant knock, not really sure what the protocol was.

“You can come in,” he laughed but for the first time in their conversation, Julie noticed that his voice seemed a little off.

When she stepped into the room she immediately knew why. Luke lay in bed, slightly propped up by his pillow. She immediately noticed how red his face and nose, in particular, looked and the pile of used tissues next to the bed.

“Woah, dude, are you sick?” Julie exclaimed, immediately taking a step back in an attempted to put as much distance between herself and the sick boy as possible.

“Yeah,” he croaked sheepishly, “Sorry, I guess I should’ve warned you.”

“Ya think?” She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest but smirking to let him know she wasn’t that mad about it. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Um, yeah, actually. I was gonna ask if you could run down to the market and get me some chicken noodle soup?”

Julie nodded, happy to be able to help her sick friend.

“Sure! Is there any medication I can pick up from the pharmacy for you or anything?” She offered but he shook his head, pulling open the top drawer of his bedside table revealing that it was full of various medicines.

“I, uh, came prepared,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “My immune system is pretty shit.”

Julie nodded.

“I better get you that soup then, huh?” She said kindly, starting to feel awkward lingering in the doorway.

“My wallet is in my jacket pocket,” Luke offered, pointing to the coat hanging in his closet.

Julie nodded in silent thanks as she pocketed the piece of leather, closing the door on her way out. Despite the sunshine, it was a short but chilly walk to the campus market, which was fortunately only a couple of blocks away from their residence hall. She located the soup fairly quickly but stopped to look through the tea options, grabbing a box of peppermint and chamomile tea bags. The check-out process was fast and she was back in her dorm only a few minutes later.

Before even taking off her coat or slipping off her shoes, she put the soup in the microwave and started up her electric kettle. While she was waiting she then busied herself with hanging up her coat in her own closet and leaving her shoes in their designated spot by the door.

“What are you doing out there, Molina?” Luke groaned from his room when the kettle started whistling.

She quickly switched it off, bustling around the designated “kitchen” area of their dorm for a mug to start steeping the peppermint tea. No sooner than she placed the teabag into the mug had the microwaved beeped, signaling that the soup was ready. Bowl in one hand and mug in the other, Julie pushed the door open with her shoulder, slowly stepping into the room in an attempt not to spill either of the hot liquids in her hands.

She gingerly set the mug on a cleared space on Luke’s desk before handing him the chicken noodle soup.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to the mug with his spoon before eating some of the soup.

“It’s peppermint tea,” she answered factually. “My mom always makes it for me when I’m sick, it supposed to help with congestion and should soothe your throat.”

“You’re the best, Molina,” Luke said graciously, slurping another mouthful of soup.

“Damn right I am!” Julie laughed, “Let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be in my room.”

___

2 - Sophomore Year

Julie wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t anticipated this. Maybe she’d hoped that all the elderberry and echinacea tea she’d made him drink last year had actually helped his immune system, but nope. November had rolled around and with it, cold season and cold season meant that Luke would undoubtedly get sick. He wasn’t lying, his immune system really was shit. This year was worse though. While last year it had been a series of bad colds, this year it was the flu.

She’d found out when he’d vomited in the middle of a rehearsal with the band they’d formed at the end of the previous year with two other guys they’d met in one of their music classes.

She’d been keeping an eye on him all day as he’d been shivering a lot and seemed especially pale but she had figured the boy knew his immune system better than anyone else and would say something if he was feeling sick. Obviously not.

“Oh my gosh, Luke! Are you okay?” She gasped, rushing over to rub his back soothingly as he bent over the trash can in the spare music room they’d occupied for rehearsal.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, waving her off as he stood back up with the intention of picking his guitar back up.

However, Julie stopped him, placing her hand against his forehead with a frown.

“You have a fever.” She said disapprovingly and he sighed.

“It’s fine Molina, we gotta practice.”

“Nuh-uh.” She insisted sternly, sticking out an arm to hold him in place. “You are not gonna get the rest of us sick. I’m driving you to the campus health center and then we’re going home.”

Luke huffed and rolled his eyes but relented, moving to slide his electric into its case and grab his jacket.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“We’ll see you guys later,” Julie sent Alex and Reggie an exasperated smile before following the boy out.  

The campus health center confirmed Julie’s suspicions, it was the flu. They picked up his prescription medicine at the campus pharmacy next door before heading back to their shared dorm.

“Will you make me soup?” Luke pleaded as Julie made sure he was settled comfortably in his bed, his lip stuck out in an irrefutable pout. “And Mama Molina’s special tea?”

Julie smiled at the nickname which Luke had coined last year as Julie often referenced her mother when taking care of the seemingly constantly sick boy. The name had stuck and then been made official when the guys had visited her over the summer break and Luke had accidentally called her mother it. Rose Molina fell in love with it instantly and now Luke, Alex, and Reggie all exclusively referred to her as such.

“Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes lightly. There was nothing special about Mama Molina’s tea, it was just a cup of peppermint tea with a little bit of honey but it had seemed to work wonders for Luke last year and he much preferred it to the cocktail of cough syrup and sinus pills he’d normally take.

As she delivered the steaming soup and tea, Julie prayed that her superior immune system and flu shot would keep her safe from contracting her roommate’s illness while she took care of him. Still, she tried her best to keep her distance while keeping an eye on him.

She started him on a new Netflix series in an attempt to keep him from going stir crazy in the dorm while she was in class. She picked up all his missing work and made sure he had plenty of soup and tea (peppermint in the daytime to clear up congestion and soothe his cough, and chamomile in the evening to help him sleep).

“You’re too good for me, Molina.” He said sleepily as she tucked him into bed one night.

“I know,” she responded with a smirk, patting his cheek lightly before leaving, turning off the light as she went.

___

3 - Junior Year

Luke’s annual illness came later the next year. All November and December Julie was on high alert, ready at a moment’s notice to grab a can of chicken noodle soup from their cupboards and start up the kettle, but the moment never came. They’d finally moved out of the dorms this year, now living in an off-campus apartment with Alex and Reggie, which meant they had more room for Julie to store her supply of soup and tea and she had two backup caregivers.

When the new year rolled around and Luke still hadn’t shown any signs of getting sick, Julie had remarked,

“Maybe you’ve finally built up your immune system enough.”

The next week Luke was calling for her from his room across the hall.

It was the flu again but this time it was easier.

Julie, Alex, and Reggie took turns taking care of their sick roommate while the others were in classes, though everyone agreed that Julie had to be in charge of the tea. Despite Julie’s insistence that it was easy to make, Alex and Reggie refused after their first attempts had been scorned by Luke who insisted they did it wrong.

“You are such a drama queen,” she’d said, rolling her eyes at the boy as she delivered the tea.

“You’re the best, Molina.” He’d said as he took a sip, ignoring her comment on his dramatics.

“Shut up and drink your tea.” Julie laughed, brushing off the compliment as she turned on Netflix, taking a seat on the other side of the living room.

___

4 - Senior Year

After what all their friends had insisted was years of tension and pining, Luke and Julie got together just in time for Luke to catch pneumonia. It was the worst virus Luke had caught yet and Julie was silently glad that their relationship was new enough that they hadn’t kissed yet. Judging by Luke’s state, she hoped she never got pneumonia.

He had a fever for the first few days and Julie, Alex, and Reggie did their best to keep their distance, only coming into his room to deliver soup, tea, water, and medicine. Once the fever had disappeared, Luke was allowed to rejoin the rest, though only from a distance. The four roommates spending the afternoons in the living room together to keep the boy company as he laid on the couch. Still, even with the fever gone Luke spent the next week and a half nearly hacking up his lungs every time he coughed and with stabbing chest pains.

“You’re not eating your soup,” Julie noticed one afternoon as she did her homework on the opposite side of the living room, Alex and Reggie both in class.

“I’m not hungry,” Luke whined, pushing the bowl farther away on the coffee table.

Julie frowned, getting up from her armchair to perch across from him on the coffee table, picking up the bowl.

“Babe, you’ve gotta eat,” Julie said pointedly and Luke frowned at the term of endearment, knowing she was using it to convince him to do what she said. “The doctor said you’d have a loss of appetite, but you need to eat.”

“C’mon, open up,” she instructed, holding out a spoonful of soup.

Luke huffed, glaring at his girlfriend but opening his mouth anyway, allowing her to spoon-feed him.

“Wow, I did not think Luke could get any needier,” Reggie remarked as he stepped into the apartment, Alex coming in behind him.

“Don’t get used to that,” he added, “Cause I will not feed you while Julie’s in class.”

Julie laughed, ruffling her boyfriend’s hair affectionately before feeding him another spoonful.

“I don’t deserve you, Molina,” he said affectionately between bites.

“Don’t you forget it, Patterson,” she smiled.

___

+ 1 Year Later

After graduation in May, Julie and the Phantoms released their first full album and began their first tour in the fall thanks to the large following they’d accrued through their posts on YouTube since sophomore year and the success of their album. They’d had been touring for a couple of months before they finally took a break, just in time for Christmas.

Alex, Reggie, and Julie had all made plans to spend the break with their families, Reggie staying with his older sister and their family and Alex and Julie with their respective parents. However, Luke’s parents had found themselves on a business trip out of the country which is how the boy ended up spending his first Christmas at the Molina’s. Ray and Rose had been more than happy to have the boy stay with them when Julie explained the situation, though Ray had insisted on a strict policy of the two never being alone in the same room before Rose reminded him that Julie and Luke had been living together for five years and were grown adults.

The Molinas and Luke had a lovely Christmas together but when Julie woke up two days later she wished they had instituted her dad’s No Alone Time policy. She groggily made her way to the kitchen, rifling through the pantry for the peppermint tea to soothe her sore throat and hopefully clear up her sinuses. Before she could get very far though, her mom walked into the kitchen, immediately catching on to what she was doing. Julie rarely reached for tea on her own, hot chocolate being her hot beverage of preference, so Rose knew something must be up when she found her daughter rifling through the tea shelf.

“Go lay on the couch, Niña,” she insisted, ushering her daughter out of the kitchen, “I’ll take care of this.”

Julie did as she said, finding her favorite blanket from the basket in the corner and cuddling up on the couch. Her mom came in a few minutes later with her favorite mug in hand, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Julie.

“Don’t burn yourself, it’s hot,” Rose warned, placing a soft kiss on the top of her daughter’s head and patting her shoulder gently before returning to the kitchen to start on breakfast for the family.

It was only a couple of minutes later that Luke stumbled down the stairs calling her name.

“Juuuulie?” he pouted as he made his way into the living room. “Will you make me some tea?”

Her eyes went wide with the realization of how she’d gotten sick as she clutched her own mug of tea in her hands.

“So this is your fault,” she gasped, voice thick due to the congestion.

“What?” Luke asked, tilting his head in confusion, the fogginess in his brain from having just woken up and being sick preventing him from connecting the dots quickly.

“You got me sick.” She accused, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend who’s eyes widened in response.

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” He asked, concern immediately filling his voice. “I’m sorry Jules.”

“I haven’t gotten sick in over four years and all it takes is one germy kiss from you,” she whined and Luke barked out a laugh before wincing at the pain it caused his throat.

“Well, the good news is we can recover together,” he said, plopping down on the couch and snuggling into her side.

“Luke, honey, do you need a blanket?” Rose asked as she returned to the living room, another cup of tea in hand, the woman obviously having overheard them from the kitchen. Luke nodded sheepishly and Rose smiled, setting the tea down in front of him and crossing the room to grab a blanket.

“Thank you, Mama Molina,” he said graciously, wrapping himself in the fleece material and picking up his tea.

“Anything to get the two of you better before you have to go back on tour,” she said, patting both their shoulders lovingly before going back to her cooking.

Julie groaned at the reminder. They were supposed to start back on the road in a week, but with Luke’s track record of illnesses, there was no knowing how long either of them would be sick this time.

Fortunately, thanks to a diet of Rose’s homemade chicken noodle soup and tea remedy as well as medication, Julie and Luke were feeling better in a couple of days.

“I’d always known, but now I really see where you got your nursing skills from,” Luke remarked on the first morning he’d woken up able to breathe through his nose.

Julie grinned.

“You sure are lucky to have the Molina women in your life,” she teased.

“Damn right.” He nodded sincerely.

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

[mistymark]

VIGILANTE/S V

part five // 4.0k words // superpowered!au // (sort of) gang!au // series masterlist

summary; in which you consider yourself somewhat of a vigilante.

warnings; swearing, mentions of death, weapons and killing, gang shit really

notes; this is just a filler bc the whole thing ended up being way too long but !! hope u like anyway <33

One week into living in the warehouse, you’ve got your own routine. You know what times to avoid the bathrooms, you know not to eat Chenle’s cereal – a tip from Donghyuck, who informed you that Chenle once set him on fire for doing just that – you know that Jaemin is the only one who cooks breakfast, and most of the meals eaten in the warehouse are from local takeout stores with shifty delivery guys. You know that 15 pizzas are ordered for one meal – because Jaemin eats at least 5 of them.

“My metabolism is crazy,” he explains to you on your third day there. “I’ll be hungry again in, like, 2 hours.” Mark had laughed and said that was normal for anyone here.

Donghyuck had whispered to you, “Jaemin carries around jellybeans all the time for his blood sugar. If you want to piss him off, call him Jelly Baby.”

You know that every time Jaemin is given an assignment, he brings a girl back to the warehouse, something you’d discovered when you saw Jeno sleeping on the couch in the main room the next day. You know the boy named Renjun doesn’t train, and hardly leaves his room. You know that Donghyuck sometimes snores in his sleep, now that you’re sharing his room, which actually hasn’t been so bad.

Jaehyun had you move in together the day after you met him, and he’d been really nice about it, moving half of his clothes from his wardrobe so you had space, and boxing up most of his stuff to allow more space for your things. He’d even offered to take down his sketches and drawings so you had some wall space. It was a sweet gesture, but you found his posters interesting, so you told him to keep them up.

Doyoung had gone with you to empty out your apartment – not that it had much in it – and convince your landlord to break your lease. “Your landlord has a very weak mind,” he’d said in a monotonous tone, when he was carrying a box to his car, a flashy black thing that certainly did not belong in your neighbourhood at all. The dilapidated, crumbling buildings surrounding you were brown and dirty, the streets grey and filled with potholes, the people who inhabited the area looking just as worn. Doyoung, on the other hand, was clean and sharp, wearing fitted black jeans and a clean white tee. His shoes were almost as shiny as his car, which made you feel slightly self-conscious when you noticed how much he stood out here.

“He’s pretty much given up on life,” you’d agreed, which earned you a smirk from him. It was true, your landlord was a chubby, pot-bellied man who wore nothing but baggy, ill-fitting jeans and old t-shirts with various food stains on them. You’ve never seen him leave the building, and you often wonder if he knows what a shithole the place is.

“I can’t believe you actually lived here,” he looked up at the building, at the brickwork that was being held together by mould rather than concrete, at the wooden window frames that were rotten and splitting apart, at a window that was recently broken, now being blocked by a curtain taped across the panel – at the place you once called home.

Well, not necessarily. It hadn’t felt like home since your dad had died, if you were being truthful.

“You live in a warehouse with criminals,” you reminded him.

“We live in a warehouse with criminals,” he cracked a smile at you, taking the box from your hands and placing it in the boot of his car.

“At least my roommate only kills himself,” you mumbled on the drive back.

“Donghyuck wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Doyoung laughed. “He’d probably kill himself if a fly started a fight with him, just so he wouldn’t have to fight it and win.”

You watched the buildings go by – Doyoung drove slower than the elderly, you were sure – and all the industrial warehouses with cute, bright signs advertising children’s toys and courier services, wondering how many of them were a front for another operation, like Jaehyun’s. “Do you think Donghyuck can die? For real?”

Doyoung was silent for a moment, then, slowly, he said, “We have our speculations. We can’t know for sure, though. And none of us really want to.” You gave a small smile to him, though he was too focused on the road ahead to see it. When you’d first come to the warehouse, you were sure no one liked him, since no one seemed devastated by the fact that he was dead. Now, you knew he was family to them.

“You have a cassette player?” Donghyuck was supposed to be helping you unload your stuff into your now shared room, but he was mostly just being nosy, going through your boxes and not actually putting anything away.

“Uh, yeah,” you throw a glance over your shoulder, seeing Donghyuck sitting on his bed, rifling through one of your boxes. “It was my dad’s.”

He nods, gently putting it on the bed. He doesn’t ask any questions about it, or your family, which you’re grateful for, but it makes you think he doesn’t have any family of his own.

You know Donghyuck is the most open out of all of the team, but you also know not to ask any personal questions.

You know a lot of things after living in the warehouse for a week. You know that Jaehyun drinks tea in the mornings and coffee at night, that Doyoung cannot access Chenle’s mind. You know that Donghyuck is definitely not a morning person, and that he exclusively wears black, as if he’s always ready for a funeral. Maybe that’s exactly the reason; some kind of sick joke surrounding his immortality.

Most importantly, you now know how to survive Johnny’s training sessions. You’ve trained with most of the team, mostly the Shields – Jeno, Jaemin, Mark and Chenle – as their powers manifest physically, and are easier to control, but Johnny has also been helping you use his ability. “You’re smaller and weaker than the rest of the team, and most Shields in general,” he’d said, eyes roaming your body. It was the first time anyone’s ever looked at you like that without making you feel objectified. “If I’m around, my ability may be the difference in whether you win or lose a fight. Try again, and focus on me.” As if you already weren’t.

He’d hunkered down and gestured for you to begin. With the other members around, you could take Johnny down in less than a minute now. Alone, it took you upwards of 10 minutes.

The day you officially move into the warehouse, you’re exempt from training with the Shields, but Donghyuck takes the opportunity to teach you gunmanship.

“I’ve used a gun before, you know,” you say, but after 10 shots you still haven’t managed to hit the target. The firing range isn’t small, located in the basement of the warehouse, which you didn’t even know existed, but you should have been able to at least hit the target once.

He laughs, picks up the gun and nails the target’s centre 5 times in a row, “So have I. Do you want to be able to actually hit your target, though?” The hole in the centre of the target looks about twice the width of the bullet, made from the bullets hitting basically in the same spot each time.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, adjusting the position of your shoulders, then places one on your lower back, adjusting your posture. You’re stiff, and you know it. He clears his throat and steps back, “Go.”

You brace yourself and shoot, the bullet going straight through the target’s stomach.

“Not too bad,” he nods in approval, holding his hand out for the gun and easily changing the clip in three quick motions. He offers the gun back to you, “Again.”

“You sound like Johnny,” you say when you take it from him. You deepen your voice as low as possible to mimic your trainer and the short, efficient way he speaks, “Again. Stop. Go. Try again. Up.”

Donghyuck lets out a loud laugh that immediately brings a smile to your face. “That was amazing.” He sits down and leans back, a hand pressed against his stomach as he laughs, mimicking your imitation. You join him on the floor, resting your back against the wall and leaning over to grab the bag of potato chips he’d brought down with you. “Have you ever shot someone?”

He reaches over and steals a few chips, as if it was the most normal question in the world. But, there’s a slight shake in his voice when he speaks, “Shot? Yes. Killed? No.”

“Who?” He shoots you a sideways glance and you lower your head, “Sorry.” No personal questions.

The heavy stench of awkward silence settles over you. He breaks it, “Johnny.”

You don’t know what to say except, “Shit.”

“Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “It was an accident. Obviously.”

You’re about to ask what happened when you’re interrupted by someone coming down the stairs. Neither of you had bothered to shut the door to the firing range, giving anyone going up or down the stairs a full view of what you were doing. Jaehyun stops when he sees you both, sitting on the floor of the firing range, sharing a bag of potato chips. He doesn’t look at you, focusing on Donghyuck. He clears his throat, “Are you training, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are wide and innocent when he answers, “Teaching Y/n how to shoot.”

Jaehyun’s eyes move from the two of you to the target and back again, but he doesn’t say anything about the lack of holes in it. “Johnny’s ordering Chinese – if you want anything, let him know. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He continues and you turn to Donghyuck, “Where’s he going?”

“Garage,” Donghyuck says, through a handful of chips. “Do you want the rest of these?” He offers the bag to you. You shake your head.

“What else is down here?”

“Weapons vault, garage, the range,” he answers distractedly, too focused on getting the last of the flavouring from the bag. “The gym…” his voice trails off.

When he’s satisfied that the bag is indeed empty, he stands up, offering his hand out to you to pull you up, “Jaemin takes ten minutes to pick what he wants to eat, so if you have a preference, we should probably tell Johnny now.”

You take his hand and let him pull you up, reaching for the gun that lays on the ground, “Where-?”

“I’ll take it,” he takes it, quickly turning the safety on and reaches around to his back, tucking the weapon into the back of his black jeans.

Your second day of training was with Chenle, in the gym, which looked more like the inside of an asylum than anything. Everything was clean and a pale, almost-white shade of grey, and the entire ceiling was a cloudy glass panel that illuminated the room, giving the room a bright and energetic yet sterile feel. The equipment was state-of-the-art, a dark contrast to the overall lightness to the room, and floor to ceiling mirrors took up two of the walls. There was a stack of clean towels in the corner, and a few televisions across the room, visible from each machine. A smaller version of the Super fight ring was situated at one end of the long room. Yet, the thing that shocked you the most was the bright blue flooring, an odd design choice.

Chenle was the least helpful out of the Shields in the team, watching you train with his ability, critiquing your control and your movements with a stern eye. “Wrong. Try again. Make it hotter this time, or you’ll do no damage.” As if to gloat, he held a hand up, and a dangerous blue flame engulfed it. Your own flame, a measly bright orange, wavered.

The entire time you’d trained with him, he’d done nothing but glare and criticise you. You were sure he hated you, or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had his ability anymore.

Yet, as he was leaving to eat, he’d nodded in approval at you, “Good. We’ll train together again soon, I’m sure.” It was the most he’d said to you. Actually, if you added up everything he has said to you, it would still be less words than were in that sentence.

Basically, he hadn’t spoken to you much all week.

Jaemin, however, was the opposite, and the person you’d trained with the day after Chenle. If anything, he was too kind and too understanding - he barely helped you.

“It’s okay if you can’t run as fast as me, yet,” he’d assured you with a smile, his hands on your shoulders. His smile was wide and encouraging, his eyes kind, and you instinctively knew he was a heartbreaker. No one with a smile like that has ever been heartbroken, you’d thought. His flirtatious manner was also a dead giveaway.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when he’d been sent on an assignment at the Den, and entered the kitchen the day after looking a little too happy. A girl had snuck out a few minutes later, looking only slightly embarrassed as she tried to pull her shoes on and find the exit at the same time. Jaemin had just stood in the kitchen and smiled at her as he ate his toast, not even bothering to show her out.

“You’ll have to eat a lot tonight,” he informed you at the end of your training. “And make sure you don’t have any training tomorrow morning, because you’ll be out for a while since this is your first time testing your stamina with my ability.”

He was right; you were exhausted after only two hours with him. When you’d told him just that, his smile widened and he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head at him, throwing your towel at him, “I’m going to shower.” He opened his mouth but you shot him a stern look, “Do not ask to join me.”

His easy-going smile remained on his face as he shrugged nonchalantly, “Worth a shot.” He bent down to pick up his drink bottle and began tidying up the gym as you left.

The person that surprised you the most was Jeno. His ability was easy enough to control, since you could control when you wanted the super strength, but he was happy to train you in preparation for your own training with Johnny.

“I guess it’s easy if you can control when you want to use someone’s ability, since your emotions don’t get in the way,” he’d said, as he wound his fist up with tape and gauze. “But if we’re not around, you need to be able to defend yourself with just your, uh, body.”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Keep a clear head and be logical. Johnny is the only one that can see what you’re about to do, so unless you’re fighting him, think about what you’re doing.” The intense look is back in his eyes when he looks up from his wrapped hands, checking to see if you’re listening, as you haven’t said anything. You can easily see why the others would hate fighting him – he’s smart and he’s dangerous. “If you don’t think, you’ll… you’ll get hurt.” Something in his voice has changed, but it’s gone when he speaks again, “You’re no use if you’re dead.” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he juts his chin up at you, “Hold out your hand.”

You do as he says and he steps forward and begins wrapping your hand delicately. It’s far neater than you’d expected.

“Were you a boxer?”

He lets out a humourless laugh, “No. I’ve just been in a fair few fights.” You try not to react, but he can see what you’re thinking when he looks up. “Relax, most of them walked away just fine.”

“Most?” He doesn’t respond, and you take the hint that he does not want to talk about it.

He’s actually quite a good trainer, you discover, and teaches you the strongest ways to take someone down. He’s less talkative than Jaemin, but his instructions are clear and easy to follow, and at the end of your session, you’re able to do basic sparring with him.

“It’s 6,” he says, looking up at the wall of the gym. Without even a goodbye, he grabs his drink bottle and gym bag, lightly jogging up the steps to head to his room.

That night, you ate dinner with Mark and Jaemin. Well, you ate while they played video games. Jaemin shared a room with Jeno, but you hadn’t seen him since your training session. Empty pizza boxes were stacked by the door, and you counted at least 5. Your own box was sitting beside you on Jeno’s bed, while Jaemin and Mark sat side by side on Jaemin’s bed, their eyes glued to the TV screen that hung on one wall. Their room was a lot more… normal than you’d expected. Donghyuck’s was a giveaway that he was a Super – or a psychopath, either worked – with the blood and the diagrams and the journals and the weapons stacked in boxes around the room.

Jeno and Jaemin’s room was fitted out with their beds, desks, wardrobes, bean bag chairs, an old gaming console and a flatscreen TV. A few movie posters and celebrities were on the wall, and old photos. Only Jaemin had photos, and even so, there were only a few taped to the wall above his bed’s headboard. You couldn’t make out any details from where you were sitting.

Mark’s reflexes were no match for Jaemin’s, and he lost almost every round, making you wonder why he still agreed to play.

“Hey, should I save some of this for Jeno?” You asked, staring at the pizza still remaining in the box. There were only three left, and part of you wondered if it would even be enough. The other part of you thought it would at least be polite to offer.

“Nah, he won’t be back til tomorrow,” Jaemin doesn’t even turn around in his seat, his eyes frantically following his character as it moves across the screen.

“Huh. Okay,” you pick up another slice just as the game ends and Jaemin turns to throw another wide grin at you.

“That means my room’s free for the night, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He laughs at the look of exasperation on your face.

When his attention is away from you again, you say, “Jaehyun sure keeps you guys busy.” There’s only a little bit of bitterness in your voice; you’d been with the team for four days and the only time you’d left was to sort out your apartment. Apparently, you weren’t ready for any assignments yet.

“Huh? Jaehyun has him on an assignment?” Mark’s confusion gets your attention, as he turns to look at Jaemin with a furrowed brow. This was clearly unusual – or, at least, news to him.

Jaemin barely glances at you as he responds, “Nah, he’s visiting his girlfriend.”

“Jeno has a girlfriend?” You ask, only slightly shocked. It wasn’t like you’d thought about their love lives, but you’d just assumed everyone was single. It went with the job description.

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods. “She lives on the other side of the city somewhere. At one of the colleges. He normally goes after trainings on Fridays, since it’s the only night she’s not studying.”

Even without seeing your face, he can sense your surprise.

“Don’t ask him about it, though. He’s very reserved when it comes to her. Doesn’t want any of us to know much about her. I don’t even know her n-”

Mark laughs when he finally manages to kill Jaemin, and Jaemin pouts and rolls his eyes, insisting he was too focused on you to play. “You’re such a baby,” Mark laughs louder, and Jaemin swats at him. His hand moves so fast you barely even see it hit Mark’s arm. “Ow! Dude!”

“One more game, come on,” Jaemin insists, turning back to the screen. Then he raises his voice, “Anyway, Y/n, he won’t even tell us her name, let alone anything else about her. So don’t bring it up.”

“Or he’ll literally chokeslam you,” Mark adds, which, for some reason, makes them both laugh loudly.

You nod, despite the fact they can’t see you, and go back to eating your pizza, “I’ve got next game!”

Mark sighs in relief, “Gladly.” Jaemin’s competitiveness was beginning to wear him out.

The following day, Mark taught you the basics of shape shifting. He was the latest addition to the team – other than you – and his control was even worse than yours. “Shape shifting is really difficult,” he giggled, nervously. “If you’re not 100% imagining what you want to be, you’ll turn into something way different. But don’t panic, it will restrict your ability to change back.”

Over the course of the day, you’d shifted into birds, mice, elephants, leopards, any creature you could think of. Though, you had humiliated yourself when he went to get snacks during your break, greeting and talking to the large dog that came trotting down the stairs, as if it were Mark.

“What are you doing?” He’d laughed when he walked back into the gym, snacks in hand.

You’d been at a loss for words, your cheeks immediately becoming inflamed. “I- I thought that was you,” you pointed at the dog, which was panting as it sat down on the stack of towels in the corner of the room.

“That’s Bruce, Renjun’s dog,” Mark explained, tossing you a can of iced coffee. “Don’t tell Jaemin you drank his coffee.”

You paused, the opened can raised to your lips. You lowered it, slightly, “Why does Jaemin need coffee if he already operates at like 10 times the speed we do?”

“For after he crashes,” Mark shrugs. “Sometimes speed isn’t everything.” He laughs at his own joke, “If he doesn’t sleep enough, he’ll still be exhausted. Sometimes he can’t afford to sleep more than 12 hours, so he relies on coffee.” He cocks his head to the side as he examines his can.

Later, when you’re sitting on the floor after successfully shapeshifting into cockroaches, you ask, “Have you ever tried turning into other people? Can you do that?”

“Yes, but – I really have to know what the person looks like. Like, I can imagine a dog and turn into a dog because any small details that I remember incorrectly will go unnoticed by a human,” he gulps down his cola. “Humans are more complex – one small detail could make me look totally different to the person I’m trying to copy.”

“Change into me, then,” you sit up straighter. “If you can see me, surely you won’t have to rely on your memory, right?”

He shrugs and locks his eyes onto you. You’d seen him transfer from human to horse, from sheep to frog, but somehow seeing him change from himself to you was more disturbing. His skin ripples and his bones make disturbing popping noises as they change, and you wonder if it hurts, even though you had shape shifted multiple times and knew it didn’t hurt at all.

Within a few seconds, right before your eyes… is you. “Hello,” he says in your voice.

“Okay, fuck that, change back,” you tell him, looking away. “That’s so creepy. Brilliant, but creepy.”

When he laughs, it sounds like him again, and you let your eyes drift back to where was sitting. He smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. His eyes, not your own.

You could have so much fun with this ability, reminding yourself to try it on Donghyuck later.

You tell Mark this as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth, and you both stretch out on the gym floor, laughing at all the pranks you could easily pull on the other members of the team.

[taylorscottbarnett]

Hello to new and old followers

So I figured I’d give a shout to people, do a little bit about me, since I haven’t in a while. I’m an assistant manager at a local, family owned coffee shop, I’ve worked for them for the past 11 years. It was my boss who encouraged me to go back to college and finish my degree, saying I was far too smart to just work at a coffee shop. I sling coffee and tea, manage the social media pages, and handle maintenance and upkeep. I’m a Graphic Design major. My focuses being graphic design, printmaking (traditional, digital, and 3D), Jewelry and Metalsmithing, and Ceramics. Art and design has always been a very big part of my life. I also study constitutional law in my spare time -- because it’s good to be well-rounded right? Oh and I do quite a bit of studying finance as well as lots of historical writings. The Federalists Papers, Anti Federalist Papers, speeches, biographies, etc. I hold subscriptions to The Economist, Bloomberg Businessweek, and Kiplinger Personal Finance magazines, as well as nearly a decade-old subscription to The New York Times.

You can follow me on Instagram, @nerdyfordesign twitter: @nerdyfordesign and even here @nerdyfordesign -- for a blog I’m going to start this fall on my college studies. I spend a lot of time preparing for my future. I write about current events here, and occasionally past political events, and constitutional law. I’m attempting to spend my semesters growing my Instagram account as a launchpad for building my name in design circles -- although twitter tends to be exclusively towards current events. I’m putting a lot of time into trying to make my degree as versatile as possible post-college. Making notes on ways to apply my degree in different areas, trying to make sure I know ways to apply things I learn in one medium to others, building a design bible or sorts of ideas or plans I can’t yet do because of financial, or space, or time limitations that I want to revisit in the future. I also spend a lot of time trying to get my financial house in order -- or grow it. Laying the groundwork for my post-college plans -- like moving from Kentucky to Massachusetts. Or replacing my 2011 Dodge Avenger (when it finally bites the dust -- I’ll drive it into the ground but I plan on buying a far more eco-frendly ride to replace it with.) Or buying up design equipment, I replaced my under-powered PC a few years ago, purchased a drafting table, and have picked up two Epson printers so far. Eventually I’d like to grab a 3D printer and a Glowforge or two (sadly these things cost lots of money so I’ve not taken the plunge in either -- being an assistant manager at a coffee shop looks like a glamorous lifestyle, but I’m not exactly rolling in dough currently). I favor both Acorns investment app and Coinbase for my investing needs. You can find Acorns here: https://share.acorns.com/leonfellpool

and coinbase here:

https://www.coinbase.com/join/barnet_j44

You dont have to use those links, a simple search will find you both platforms, and both have android and ios apps, however if you do decide to use either to sign up, I’ll receive a small referral bonus, and that would get me slightly further towards my goals. (I dont have any stake in any of the other things I’ve listed, I just think they are good reading). Acorns is a wonderful app to “set it and forget it” for building wealth over the long-term. They also offer an extremely low-cost IRA option and a checking account. It’s the platform I’ve used to try and save money for replacing my car or maybe being a homeowner one day. You can also find me on Redbubble @leonfeloni for art and design pieces I’m selling. A lot of my fall semester will be focused on building that store with works to sell.

I’m also passionate about people considering using folding@home. It’s a platform that allows you to lend some of your spare processing cycles when you are not using the computer to projects trying to find cures to illnesses. By “Folding” they are referring to running simulations of proteins (not the whey kind) to find cures for things like COVID, Alzheimer's, etc. It runs in the background when you are not actually using your computer, but it’s powered. Look into it and see if it’s something you’d consider joining. Especially if you have an old laptop you never use, you can just power it up, boot F@H and set it to stay awake when your laptop lid is closed and just let it run. I have two laptops in my bedroom setup just to do that, once I realized I wasn’t really using either that often currently. Anyway, that's just a little update post thing about stuff.

[katefiction]

Cora, Chapter 5: Revelations

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

Westminster Hall, London

The coffin lies still, elevated on a platform in the middle of the hall. Surrounded by six long candles, it is draped in the royal standard, the crown glistening on top. The stone walls and ornate wooden beamed roof make the vast space more chilling than it already is and I shiver slightly on the balcony where I’m standing.

Granddad has been lying in state for two days at Westminster Hall, but soon, like monarchs before him, he will be taken to Windsor Castle for the funeral ceremony and to be buried. Three hundred thousand people have passed through these doors to pay their respects to the King that was undeniably the loved by the country, but now, as the guards prepare to take his coffin to the gun carriage, it is time for the capital to say goodbye.

Behind the balcony, out of the view of prying eyes, I take Dad’s cold hand and squeeze it tightly. He keeps his eyes forward stoically, but I feel him squeeze back briefly.  When I had got back to London, Dad had been in a state of shock. As well as grieving for his beloved father, he had decisions to make – when to release the information, what to write in the statement- and I could see him flinch every time someone called him ‘your majesty’.

As the coffin is prepared to be taken down, we are ushered away to join the procession.

I have never seen London so quiet. The roads are closed and along them stand thousands of people, their heads bowed as the gun carriage drives past. You can almost hear the flutter of the occasional flag in the bitter February wind. But other than that, it is silence, and sorrow.

I sit behind the gun carriage in a carriage holding my grandmother and other ladies of the family. I bow my head, trying to ignore the masses of people and cameras that surround my family. Behind us, Dad stands tall, processing on foot, showing no sign of breaking down.

I resent the fact that this moment has to be shared with the world. When I want to curl into a ball and cry, I know that I will have to be talking to dignitaries from around the world. And when I want to hug Dad tightly, I know the camera flashes will put a stop to it.

The eighty one bell tolls from Big Ben become more distant as we approach Marble Arch and I struggle to keep it together, glad of the black veil covering my face. I know that the next time we have a procession, my face covered in a veil; it will likely be for my wedding. A wedding that Granddad won’t be there for.

*

St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle

Staring into space, I pretend to listen to one of Granddad’s old university friends tell me old stories about him.

‘And then James filled the shower head with tea bags so she was drenched in tea!…’, he laughs.

I laugh along politely, wondering when I’ll be allowed to be alone for a while.

The funeral service had been filled with sadness and plenty of tears. From the massive show that was the procession through the streets of London, the funeral was in stark contrast, an intimate family event. But as soon as we’d thrown the dirt into his grave, it was back to duties, with the family playing host to the Granddad’s closest friends and many a dignitary at the wake.

I feel a buzzing in my bag as the friend continues his story.

‘Please excuse me’, I interrupt, ‘I must go speak to my father briefly’

‘Yes yes’, he waves me away and continues speaking to someone else.

I scuttle away into a neighbouring room and pull my phone out of my bag.

‘How are you doing?’, the text says.

I tap my reply in quickly, ‘Ok, I wish you were here though’

He replies almost immediately, ‘So do I, but I’ll see you in a couple of days’

‘I miss you’

I had only seen Ben once since Granddad had died. He had texted and called me constantly, acting as a pillar of support. I wish I could’ve seen him more often, but the attention our family was getting meant that I wanted to protect our relationship more than ever.

‘Well who wouldn’t?’, he replies.

I giggle out loud, grateful for the distraction.

‘Something funny?’, a voice from behind me makes me jump.

I turn around to find a tall, handsome figure, hid hair flicked perfectly to one side.

‘Nicholas…’, I kiss him on each cheek. ‘I didn’t know you were going to be here’

Our grandfathers were close friends. Of course he was going to be here.

‘Would you rather I wasn’t?’, he says seriously.

I laugh awkwardly, ‘of course not, it’s been too long’

I hadn’t seen Nicholas since the Highland Fling. Call me a coward, but I was too chicken to face up to him after ending things with him that night.

He nods in agreement. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Cora’

‘Thank you, it was a big shock’, I cast my eyes downwards. I never know how to respond to sympathy.

‘It must be a big change for you, becoming Princess of Wales’, he leans against the mantelpiece.

‘Oh no, that’s not happening yet!’, I protest.

‘So you’ll still be working up in Scotland for a while?’

‘For as long as I can’

‘I guess all the focus needs to be on your dad right now anyway?’, he says kindly.

‘Exactly, the less I stay out of the papers, the better’

We make small talk for the next ten minutes, until, inevitably, the conversation dries up and we’re left standing awkwardly in silence.

‘Look Cora, can we just forget about what happened between us last summer and be friends’

Thank God.

I breathe a sigh of relief, ‘I would love that, I really would’

‘I’m having a dinner in a couple of days, would you like to come?’, he asks hopefully.

‘Oh Nick, I’d love to, but I’m busy’, I don’t quite meet his eye.

Because I’ll be with Ben.

He shrugs it off. ‘Another time then’

‘Definitely’. And I mean it.

* * *

Curled up on the couch a couple of days later, Ben hands me a cup of peppermint tea. I’d suddenly developed a cold the day after the funeral.

He pushes the hair back from my face, ‘your face is pretty hot’, he says, resting the back of his hand on my cheek.

‘Why thank you’, I snigger.

He rolls his eyes, ‘that was a crap joke’

‘No better than yours’.

I had been in his London flat since the afternoon. Now that that the funeral was over, all the attention was tuned onto Dad. Despite asking him if he needed me to stick around, he insisted that I get back to life as normal.

‘Normal’ now included spending lazy afternoons with my boyfriend.

Ben props my legs up onto his lap and begins massaging my feet. I notice him smile at the sight of my birthday socks.

‘I’m not surprised you’re ill with the week you’ve had. All that adrenalin keeping you going and then your body just crashes’, he mimics a plane crashing with his hand.

I blow my nose into a bedraggled tissue, ‘urgh I feel like hell’

‘You need a break’. He looks at me conspiratorially, ‘I’ve been thinking…’

‘Yes…’

‘Maybe this summer, I could take you on holiday, give you a proper birthday present’

‘You gave me a proper birthday present’, I wriggle my toes in his hands.

‘I mean it’

‘I would love that, you know I would, it’s just how would we do it without people finding out?’, I nibble at my bottom lip.

‘We could just tell people’. He looks me dead in the eye, forcing me to face the conversation. ‘By the summer, we’ll have been together a year, don’t you think it’s time?’

I shuffle closer to him, leaning my chin on his shoulder, ‘I just want our relationship to be ours and when we tell people, it won’t be anymore’

I think back to my discovery a couple of years back. The lengths William and Catherine went to, to keep their relationship to themselves.

His jaw tenses and his voice deepens, ‘the world will find out eventually, I’m sick of sneaking around’

I pull back, sensing his tension, ‘so am I’, I say quietly.

Just when I think he’s going to start an argument, his dark eyes soften, ‘I know’, he sighs. ‘It’s frustrating, that’s all’

I test the waters and lean towards him again. He plants a quick kiss on my lips.

‘You’ll catch a cold’, I grin.

‘I’ll risk it’, he says, pulling me into the warmth of his body.

*

The next morning, I’m woken by my phone going off non-stop. After ignoring Dad’s call on the day Granddad died, I now always pick up my phone first time.

I reach over to it, my eyes half open. To my surprise, Ben is doing the same, his phone going off at the same rate as mine.

‘Hello’, I say croakily.

‘Good morning Your Royal Highness’, Maggie’s voice says; her voice much too bright for 6am.

6am. Something’s wrong.

I bolt upright, ‘what is it? Is it Dad? Or Grandma, or Mum?’, I say, panicked.

Next to me, Ben in growling into his phone; all the while looking at me.

‘Everyone is fine, Ma’am. But it seems the press have caught wind of your relationship’

I feel bile rise to my throat.

Maggie continues when I don’t respond, ‘I’ve sent you a link of the article, you’ll have to decide if you want to make a statement, please get back to me ASAP’

Maggie has a way of making the biggest problems seem manageable, but even as I put the phone down, I feel my face paling.

‘Shit’, I say.

‘Let’s just see what it says’. Ben is already finding the article on his phone. That was presumably his agent calling to tell him.

I sit staring at the wall as he reads the story aloud.

‘Exclusive: Princess Cora dating tennis ace.

Princess Cora is in a secret relationship with Britain’s number one tennis player Ben Evans, the Mail on Sunday can exclusively reveal.

Sources reveal to us that the pair began dating last year after Cora began working with Evans’ charitable trust, the Marion and James Evans Tennis Trust.

The couple are said to be ‘serious’, with friends stating a royal wedding could come as early as next year.’

At that point, Ben throws the phone onto the bed, ‘what a load of bollocks’

‘Only a few people know, who’s leaked this?’, I jump out of bed and begin pulling on my clothes.

‘God knows’, Ben runs his hands through his hair and rubs his head. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Where do you think, I need to get out of here before the paparazzi turn up’, I say, struggling to button up my jeans.

Ben comes over to me, stroking my arms, ‘everyone knows now, what’s the point of running away?’

Why isn’t he more upset about this?

My phone rings again as I’m about to retort. I grab it. Dad.

‘Don’t say it Daddy’, I say before he has a chance to speak.

‘Were you planning to tell me Cora?’, he says it like he’s speaking to a small child.

‘Of course’, I button up my jeans with my free hand.

‘How long has it been going on, or shall I wait for tomorrow’s story to find that out?’

I’m embarrassed to tell him how long it’s been now that I have to say it out loud. ‘Since last July’

I hear him breathe in sharply, ‘we’ll talk about this when you get home, you’re with him, I assume?’

‘Yes’

God this is horrible.

‘I’ll see you later then’. He hangs up before I can try to back out. I don’t have a choice but to go and face him.

‘I need to send for a car’, I say, more to myself than Ben as I text Maggie quickly.

Ben sits at the end of the bed in just his boxers, watching me rush around the room. ‘Can we talk about this?’

‘About what?’ I say distractedly.

‘You can’t just run off, anyone would think you’re ashamed’

I stop in my tracks, ‘don’t be stupid’

He grabs my waist and pulls me on to his lap, ‘we can go places together now; go on that holiday without having to worry’

I clench my teeth at the thought of a hundred photographers following us around some sunny island as we attempt to have a romantic holiday.

‘It’s not the right time’, I say pushing off his lap.

‘Then when will be?’, his voice begins to rise in annoyance.

Why does he have to be so stubborn?  Why can’t he just accept that I know what I’m talking about?

‘Granddad has just died’, I snap. ‘My dad needs my support, not for me to be on the cover of the fucking Mail on Sunday!’

‘Calm down’, he says slowly.

‘I sorry, but it’s like Nicholas said, the focus needs to be on Dad’

‘When did you see Nicholas?’, I can tell he’s trying to sound casual.

‘At the wake’, I don’t have time for this. ‘He was being a friend’

‘I bet he was’, he sneers.

A text from Maggie comes through; telling me a car should be outside. I pull on my coat and grab my bag. I can’t stay here and argue with him.

‘I’ll call you’, I say, as he follows me down the hall.

‘Fine’.

I turn around and attempt to peck him on the mouth as a small peace offering. He turns his head a fraction so I catch his bristly cheek.

‘Right, see you then’

‘See you’, he says. 

I open the door and jump into my waiting car just as two photographers pull into Ben’s road. My car speeds away, the feel of Ben’s missing kiss hollow on my lips. 

[szopenhauer]

Do you like Chanel purses? no

When was the last time you had Pepsi? ages ago

Do you know anyone with exaggeratedly big muscles? not personally

What is your favorite endangered animall? elephant

Can you name someone with the same last name as you? my parents

Who was the last person to scream your name? ...

By the way, that wasnt meant to be perverted.  too late  I have no idea why I thought about that - no one ever screamed my name this way and nobody ever will :x

Do you struggle to articulate your thoughts and feelings? it seems Name something that you are doing tonight. nothing and I realized that I don’t want to go to sleep more than ever before, I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow and yet I’m scared of dying (suffering)

Do you like the smell of a barbecue? nah

Would you date an 18 year old at the age you are now? too young for me Are you more likely to show affection through your words or your actions? words I guess Do you have an easy time falling asleep? I wish Are you a crier? crybaby Do you like to wear makeup? no Do you have a high tolerance for people? pfft Do you like your bed? why not How many times have you been to the ER? few

Are you wearing shorts? basically never

Do you eat randomly, just whenever the hell you want? ...

Did you have trouble getting up this morning? yeah What’s a few things that automatically make you go, “Awww”? cute little dogs Do you have soft hands? Do you like holding hands? do I? I like to hold hands tho What’s your opinion on perfumes that are REALLY expensive?  dumb, I hate perfume but expensive - that is ridiculous! Have you ever really hated a teacher and practically made it clear you did? Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know. Are you a little bit cautious around horses? Do they scare you a bit? I’m just a cautious person in general  If you could live next door to ANYONE, who would you want to live beside? love of my life, I mean - we can live together but for now it would be cool if we were neighbors at least, you know what I mean? Do you think your friends are pretty? Do your friends think your pretty? what friends... Are you currently worried about your parents finding out about something? maybe mom about that one particular thing that starts on S and ends with X

What is your opinion on air pollution? less cars!

Were you forced to read ‘The Odyssey’ in high school? from what I remember

Who was the last person to come visit you? M.

When was the last time you shaved your legs? recently

Do you own any superhero shirts? nope

What is your opinion on the “Team Edward/Team Jacob” shirts? I dislike Twilight

If you had to teach a class, what would you teach? if I really had to then art

How did your parents meet each other? personal

What profession do you think is the most under-appreciated? garbage collectors, those who clean the streets or hospitals, postmen etc.

Have you ever drawn on someone while they were sleeping? don’t do that

Does time really heal all wounds? Or is that just a trivial saying? trivial saying

Where is your favorite place to take a nap? I don’t do naps but my bed

Would you rather lose all your old memories, or never be able to make new ones? not be able to make new

Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I don’t drive

What’s a tradition you hope never dies out? it’s a secret

Do you have any exes you’d consider dating again? I’m dating my ex 

Have you ever went a year without getting your hair cut? yes Do you think you could go a week without sugar? without sweets? I already do, I don’t even drink tea with sugar  Would you be willing to go one day each week without meat? absolutely Do you feel comfortable telling people how much you weigh? whatever Are you any good at sewing? I know basics Have you looked at any old photos of yourself lately? this year Do you carry a calculator around with you everywhere? I don’t need it that often Do you like to plan things out or just go with the flow? plan but not strictly

Do you garden at all? If so, what types of things do you grow? I help my parents which I find pointless because there is always much more work than results Do you consider cooking to be an art? when done right How many pairs of sunglasses do you own? too many considering that I barely wear ‘em ^^” Are you a fast or slow reader? fast Would you ever spend $500 on concert tickets? hell no Do you know anyone who looks like you? there was a gal who was similar to me on tumblr but younger than me, I lost contact with her  Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor?  yeah :( Are you a short tempered person? oh well...

Does it take a lot to gross you out? I’m easily grossed out  Last time you seen an ocean: never saw ocean in person Do you collect sea shells? not as much as I used to

What is one change you need to make in your life this month? lets not talk about it, ok?

Would you have sex with the last person you texted? done Are you planning on kissing anyone tomorrow evening? she’s gonna be busy working Do you require a lot of private time? yasss Have you ever told a guy you were a lesbian to get him to leave you alone? it’s because I’m a lesbian lmfao If you have a favorite television show, who’s your favorite character? in my most fav shows plot was more important to me than characters tbh, it’s hard to explain, I hope I’m not the only one who thinks this way haha but in Buffy I didn’t like Xander and Angel was annoying even though he was necessary, I wasn’t a fan of Faith and didn’t understand Riley existence in the universe, also Dawn changed a lot for worse but I swallowed it with patience, in Call the midwife I felt crappy when they took Chummy and Jenny away, I didn’t watch newest episodes so I have no idea who Lucille and Valerie are, I horribly miss sister Evangelina :(

What’s the best part about flying? don’t ask me, I’ve never been on a plane

Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? fragments

Chocolate or Vanilla ice cream? vanilla

If you had to get glasses would you wear contacts? I’d prefer glasses

Are mac’s really better than PC’s? I’m a PC gal

D0 y0u l1k3 t0 t@lk l1k3 a 5c3n3 k1d? *cringe*

When you were red and green clothes do you feel like a Christmas Tree? lol

What TV show has the best theme song? hard choice

New Year’s Plans? I don’t plan to live that long

Would you agree that Sex and The City is the best show ever? no way, I didn’t even care enough to watch one episode of it

Do you call your friends with red hair “ranga’s”? wtf

Have you ever been surfing? me? surfing? r u kidding?

Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? excuse me, I’m into women exclusively

Name a thing in your room that other probably don’t have in theirs: me ha!

What’s your best jacket like? comfy :3

What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? nothing 

If you could pull off any hairstyle, what would it look like? I have couple of ideas ;)

What is the worst thing that happened so far today? my failed appointment as I didn’t get any answers nor help for my heart condition and allergies and that was the last attempt, I have no other ways of fixing things to survive next months, my life;s officially over, I only have suffering and fear left, I’m a burden and I want to kill myself sooner than food or cardiac arrest 

Did that ruin your day? it ruined my LIFE

What’s something good you’re looking forward to? sweet relieve of death?...

What’s something that you think is really cute?

*wish it was mine

Describe your feet: eww, why, better not

If you see somebody crying, do you start crying too? depends

How do you like your hoodies? oversized, without kangaroo pocket in front and/or a zipper, yuk

Is having to pee really badly worse than being really thirsty? it is to me at least

Were you a cute baby? I was a red haired potato

Are you talking to anybody right now? online 

How tall are your tallest socks? I kept my rainbow knee high socks but I don’t use them anymore

Are you waiting for a phone call? at night?...

Do you look forward to swimsuit season, or get really nervous? I was skipping swimsuit seasons for over 10 years until this summer - I bought the cheapest and went to stand/walk in the water and sit on a beach despite my insecurities 

If you could live for a year with any foreign family, where would you go? don’t wanna, scary

What do you wish people would pay you to do? browse the internet XD

Do you take good pictures? I try

Should you be doing something else right now? wash my hair, drink water, commit suicide - who knows

Did that question make you nervous? that question made me sad 

Why don’t girls like porn? some enjoy it 

Tell me a memory of this summer: this summer is all about romantic love, illnesses and nostalgy

Do you think it’s pretty when 100s of balloons are let loose into the sky? a waste but still pretty, sorry love, I know you’d be irritated so don’t worry - I will never do smth like that to ya

[unkindrewind]

L A W S

* Charlie, his setting, and plot were all developed and conceived by myself and Bunny @gcrefxed / @killerxquccn. While we’re totally fine with others adding their characters into the setting / plot, it must be discussed first by either Bunny or myself. Theft will not be tolerated and WILL be called out.

* Unless it's something applicable to our muses collectively, Please reblog memes or posts in general from the source. I'm not a resource blog and if treated as one, especially by blogs who never interact, I will soft block.

* I will NOT interact with blogs that use youtubers, social media influencers, or anime / drawn characters for their Fcs. Nothing against you, it’s just not my thing.

* I will BLOCK personal blogs that reblog, like, or follow, as I like to keep interactions here between fellow rp mutuals. If you have an rp side-blog, let me know beforehand so I dont mistake you for a non -rp personal.

* I WILL NOT interact with minors. Given the content on this blog and the fact I’m an oldie, I just feel more comfortable writing with people of age, not to mention feel more comfortable exploring the darker / horror themes of this blog with adult mutuals.

* As stated I am MUTUALS ONLY,   meaning i will only write with mutuals. While I do greatly appreciate people following and showing interest, if i dont follow back there’s genuinely no hard feelings. Its not a slight against you or in any way me thinking less of your character or taking some weird high and mighty attitude but : 1. I just get very overwhelmed with an overly busy dash and need to be a bit selective to prevent my anxiety from going nuts 2. At the time, I'm not seeing a way or know how our characters could interact. You’re more than welcome to unfollow. Alternatively please dont feel obligated to follow back if I follow first, aside from understanding this blogs content might not be for everyone, i don't believe in follow for follow. So if you're not genuinely interested in writing, I'd prefer a soft block.  If you want to interact but don't follow me, chances are I’ll say no as I take following as a sign of interest. I may take a while to follow back as my notifications on here are the worst. If I don’t follow back within a weeks time, feel free to unfollow. .

T H R E A D S  /   P L O T T I N G

*  I love plotting. If given my way I'd be plot exclusive but I know that's not everyone's cup of tea. If you're ever interested in plotting, know I am already onboard.

*  If you want to turn a meme or ask into a thread, I’d prefer to be asked before hand. Simply because sometimes its nice to have memes just be stand alone things or for fun.              

  -   Additionally I take the memes I send in to others as just memes for memes sake as well, so if you want a thread to continue off one you'll have to let me know , otherwise I'm clueless.

S H I P P I N G   /   D Y N A M I C S

As of 8/14/20 Charlie is no longer open to romantic ships with female muses specifically, and will ship only with Bunny’s female muses: Irene @gcrefxed and Sarah @killerxquccn  , with her characters being detrimental in Charlie's story and to his character. Sarah specifically has always been the love of Charlie's life with the likelihood of anyone (beyond Irene) able to come close slim to none. This in no way means I will not interact with female muses or am being exclusionary  from this point; I always want to explore the multitude of subtleties in dynamics between Charlie and muses of every gender - even female muses having feelings for charlie, flirting with him etc - but dynamics with those female leaning will not result in anything romantic. Male muses, however,  are still open to the possibility of such a dynamic as that aspect to Charlies sexuality and character hasnt been delved into and I would find really interesting to explore. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! But please respect this decision and don't try to pressure or force me to change my mind as that will result in an automatic block. I ship based on chemistry between muses, but Im also very okay with pre-established dynamics (whether that be romantic, friends with benefits, enemies, platonic, familial, whatever!) Considering that can be a bit easier thread wise for some people instead of starting from the very beginning.  As with most things, I like to talk through it beforehand. If you have anything in mind, you're more than welcome to approach me! But I also reserve the right to respectfully turn things down or offer alternate options if things don't mesh.

S M U T

While I, and my muse, are of age, I’m not entirely comfortable writing smut unless it’s with a mun 1.) I know well and 2.) Is of age. So for the most part any if it all suggestive scenes will lead to a fade to black, time skip, etc.

T R I G G E R S

My muse being horror related there may be some triggers here. There will be mentions, and maybe -though rarely- the occasional image, of : Blood,  Violence , Murder , Serial Killers . Knives / Bladed weapons. I will ABSOLUTELY tag NSFW material [ with the tag nsfw > ] and triggers where applicable, though if you would like me to tag something specific to your needs or if there’s something I missed, don’t hesitate to let me know and I will do so right away!

M U N

* I write under the alias Nox! ( She/Her ) and I am of age

* i am a-okay with questions, especially about my muse! if you have any about anything at all i will be more than happy to answer them the best i can! 

* Also totally fine with random IMs! despite being spacy as hell sometimes, I love talking to people. Even if we havent talked or interacted  before, doors always open. I also have discord which I'll hand out to those I chat with and ask for it.

* I am very forgetful and easily distracted! Its the ADHD / Anxiety in me, added in with my irl stuff going on. Sometimes I forget to respond to IMs, but I promise it's not me ignoring you or a sign of disinterest [if we're mutuals, Im interested]. Dont be afraid to give me a poke if i take too long.     

    - Adding onto that I also have Depression . Which tends to put me in a bad headspace not only fairly often but fairly easily and makes me a bit tentative about trying to start things with others, based on bad past experience and my own mind being a bastard and thinking most people don't want to interact with me. So I promise, if we're mutuals, even if Im not sending things, I want to interact but probably being a clown and just afraid to while admiring you from afar until I can make a move. If you want to go ahead and go for it, I highly encourage it! Your best bet would be to approach me first.

* You can also find me on my other blogs:

@rapturcd // Bioshock OC

@fullcfwoe // CAOS OCs

@synthend // Cyberpunk OC

@sxnned // Demon  OC

@disowncd // Dylan Massett from Bates Motel

@clovcn // Lucifer from CAOS

R E S P O N S E T I M E / A C T I V I T Y

As it is i have a hard time keeping muse, just the way i am sadly. i know this is something a lot of people, myself included, can find frustrating (especially when you’re really into a thread) but a fair amount of the time i may take a while to respond. as much as i love this, aside from being a hobby, i have a chronic illness that makes me exhausted most days or just not in the mood to write and not in any kind of state to type out a response you lovely people would deserve. though i will always try to quickly reply when i can.

M E M E S

Yes. please. send as many as you want, as often as you want. Even if we haven’t interacted, you’re free to send one my way; They can be a great place to start things off.

P O S T L E N G T H  /  F O R M A T T I N G

 * I tend to use icons and small - but not super tiny-  text,  and usually some form of para, multi-para , or novella, but it really depends on my mood etc. Though all these things can vary : If you dont use icons, I can do iconless threads. If my formatting is too small, obnoxious, or hard to read, let me know! And I'll change to whatevers easiest to read. Want something short and sweet, mostly dialogue based? I can do that too. I go with the flow

* You don’t have to match my length in posts! sometimes i can write far too much when i get really into writing (and alternatively not write enough), so don’t feel obligated or pressured to follow suit by any means! whatever you are comfortable with is totally okay! it’s not a contest, this is all for fun.

G R A P H I C S / C R E D I T

* all icons and graphics are created by me unless stated otherwise

* icon psd by plutocommissions

* border by venuscomissions

Thank you sm for taking the time to read!

[shebeguiled]

good afternoon everyone , i’m amorette & i’m so excited to be here !! this lovely lady is ERATO of the nine muses , known in the mortal world as SABINE BELLEROSE. take a peek under the cut for more information on her , & feel free to hit the heart if you’d like to plot.

ERATO   :

♡   ;   muse of erotic & love poetry , so uh , that already sets a pretty clear tone here. she is beautiful & she knows it , and is prone to her own bouts of vanity , especially when called upon by poets & artists — it’s hard not to let it go to your head when famed authors call upon your name for inspiration , praise your beauty as being their afflatus. she doesn’t go about being too overly boastful , most of the time , though sometimes it is dependent on her company and if they encourage it. she doesn’t find an issue with one accepting & appreciating their own beauty , so long as it isn’t at the expense of another. she promotes self love & positivity.

♡   ;   speaking of company , her sisters are her lifeblood. she adores them and would not be averse to fighting , maiming , or otherwise causing a ruckus & maybe a little bloodshed for them , if it absolutely came down to it. (   though she really really really prefers it doesn’t come to that.   ) her sisters are her soul. apollo , likewise , is near & dear to her heart — her loyalty is his , nearly if not just as it is her sisters’. her loyalty , once gained , is not easy to shirk.

♡   ;   vivacious , clever , & sanguine , erato is clear in what she wants and even more direct when it comes to getting it. she possesses little in the way of cautious awareness and leans far more into her impulsive tendencies , especially if they’ll lead to gratification. she’s quick to capitalize on opportunities once presented , or to otherwise maneuver around situations in order to have them play in her favor. it’s generally innocuous , though , her intent lying more-so within indulgence than harm. she enjoys delighting in all of life’s pleasures , be it a song , a poem , a glass of wine , etc.

♡   ;   undoubtedly i am forgetting to write something here in my excitement , and i apologize for that lmao.

SABINE   :

♡   ;   so , to start , she’s the daughter of GASPARD & MANON BELLEROSE , a fashion designer & model respectively , hailing from france. (   she was born in america herself , but she’s fluent in french.   ) their love was a whirlwind , something plucked directly from a romance novel & it bore them their only daughter , sabine.

♡   ;   now , her parents live a ritzy , busy life. despite being married they had little intention of ever settling down & a child hadn’t ever really been in their plans , though social stigma and personal beliefs prevented manon from doing anything about the pregnancy save seeing it to term & keeping their daughter. sabine was seen more as an accessory than a lifelong commitment — more akin to a purse to tote around when it was fitting than a child that needed to be raised. her parents didn’t have time for that. it didn’t fit in with their ideal lifestyle. they would occasionally dote on her & bring her to events , shower her with affection , but the moments were few and far in between.

♡   ;   she was frequently handed off to nannies but they , too , were never consistent ; a side effect of having an affair with your boss. this left sabine constantly yearning for affection , yearning for the love & praise children are supposed to receive from their parents , yearning for a bond she saw in other children but never felt herself. her parents raised her not to be herself , but to be perfect — in their eyes , this was an easily attainable goal. they gave her everything , after all , as what they lacked in affection they made up for in a surplus of material items , money , gifts , expensive vacations that she’d end up spending alone. sabine took what they gave and let it sate her for a while.

♡   ;   much like her immortal self , she is indulgent , though much less fulfilled. she allows herself to indulge in flings , in the things money can buy : jewelry , clothes , money , drugs. the upside of being a millionaire's daughter is just how much you can spiral the night before & appear perfect in a selfie posted the next day with the help of a well paid stylist and good lighting. as a result of her upbringing , the one thing she wants is fulfillment : she wants to be loved & inspire that love in others , she wants the security of being with someone who wants her , truly wants her , body , mind , & soul. sabine wants to feel valued. and yet whenever she's barely gotten close to something resembling this , she freezes , she spirals , she sabotages. the truth is that deep within her , she believes she is undeserving.

♡   ;   she can never quite achieve the balance she seeks , and is always at one extreme or another. there is no pause , there is no quiet middle ground : one moment , she's on the top of the world , things are just as she wants them , nothing can touch her. the next , she is crumbling , holed up in her penthouse , speaking to no one , spending days on end weeping in the safety of her bed. there is an aching , hollow void within her chest that consumes everything in these moments & leaves little behind to remind sabine of just who she is. still , she maintains the facade. she models for her father's line & is something of an instagram influencer , frequently posting updates to her millions of followers. she's never upfront about the goings-on behind the scenes online ; what's the point when you can post a selfie from inside one of nyc's most exclusive clubs ? no one wants to hear about your troubles. money can buy happiness , right ? she self medicates in dangerous ways.

♡   ;   unbeknownst to most , sabine writes & publishes poetry via the use of a pseudonym. it's a little pleasure that keeps her going , gives her something to pour her energy into even when she's lacking. a way to express herself when she cannot find the courage to verbalize her feelings to another person. something no one who knows her can intrude on.

♡   ;   sabine has an undiagnosed mental illness : bipolar disorder. she frequently faces burnout and it is the first symptom of an approaching depressive episode , and likewise is quick to hyperfixate or otherwise obsess when growing manic , and this is also when she often feels her most confident & victorious. she refuses to admit something may be ' wrong ' out loud , but on the inside , her lack of control over how she feels & often experiences the world contributes to her panic frequently. she avoids seeking help out of fear of disappointing her parents , should she receive a diagnosis. it is not that she believes people with mental illnesses are wrong , just that she alone would be. even further , she often feels guilty for her emotions , feels as though she is not allowed to be upset or depressed in any way because of what she does have. she thinks love will fix her. she doesn’t realize she may have bipolar specifically but she knows there’s got to be something , & it frightens her. up until this point , she has not communicated this to anyone else.

♡   ;   loves bubble tea. is rose gold’s number one fan.

♡   ;   she’s lucky she’s got nepotism on her side because she’s only 5′2″ and some would argue that that means she can’t be a model which is probably the stupidest thing ever.

i’m sorry this got so long idk what happened actually . . . . dfkjgdjf thanks for reading all of this mess ily

[hellyeahomeland]

Me again with more Carrie and Saul. can you elaborate on how it’s different between them? You say it’s evolved but I don’t see how. Things have happened to Carrie especially, but I don’t really see how their relationship has changed at its core. Maybe Saul treats her more like an adult but even that’s debatable imo. I don’t mean to be argumentative for argument’s sake but... (continued...)

Cont… can you give concrete examples of how the development has played out on screen so I can understand it & hopefully S8 better. Specific scenes and what how they weren’t just individual scenes but changed the relationship going forward. Much appreciated! Oh and one more thing re: Saul and Carrie, sorry I forgot. Can you also venture a guess what it means in practice? What do you think will happen between them that will feel like closure or catharsis or something that’s expected of a show’s final season and perhaps finale as well?

Note #1: this became a lot longer than I expected (sorry, you asked!). Beyond what I’ve written, I challenge you to go back and watch these individual scenes. I’ve chosen ones from each season to illustrate the full arc of their relationship. Observe the differences in Claire and Mandy’s body language, in their facial expressions, in their discomfort, in the shared trauma of what’s come before. It’s deliberate writing and deliberate acting. Shorter version of this post is here, from April 2018.

Note #2: I chose almost exclusively scenes of conflict to represent the evolution of their relationship because I believe that conflict drives change. 

PROLOGUE:

To understand the Carrie and Saul relationship, we’ve got to understand what their relationship was before we met them. From what we know, Saul recruited Carrie, straight out of college. He saw in her something special and unique, something that didn’t come around every other day. She was gifted but she was also alone. She had no partner. She was socially isolated from her family and from the world (he didn’t yet know of her mental illness). This was an advantage of sorts. It meant she could give herself more and more to the work, same as he did. Remember this is his Achilles’ heel: whenever they call, he picks up. He doesn’t know how not to. It destroyed his marriage. But he molds her in his image. He teaches her, he raises her, the way a father would his daughter. He brings her up. Their relationship melds the boundaries of teacher/student, boss/employee, mentor/mentee, and father/daughter. It’s personal, and it’s deeply intimate. 

This is what we are given before the pilot and it’s what we’ve grappled with for nearly eight years: his attempts to harness her gifts–often to her detriment–and her simultaneous resentment of him for it and unwavering yearning for his approval. 

Key Scenes in the Carrie and Saul Canon:

#1: “What happened to the Saul Berenson that trekked the Karakoram?”: Much of the season one conflict between Carrie and Saul comes from her three thousand miles an hour suspicion of Brody and him being like “whoa slow down pls.” He is the first person she tells of these suspicions and he essentially shoots her down, causing her to go rogue. It’s here where the lines become blurred between boss/protege and father/daughter, because the way in which he chastises and punishes her feels awfully familial. 

So when Carrie finally reaches a breaking point in “Blind Spot” (the original Carrie Mathison Appreciation Episode), we feel that as though a family is breaking up. It doesn’t matter that she comes crawling back to him, just an episode later, remorseful. 

Carrie underlines just how much Saul has changed: in her words, from the man who “did three months in a Malaysian prison” (HELLO???? repeat: he raised her in his image) to a pussy. We understand that Carrie and Saul are both outsiders in the CIA. We understand that Saul is still grappling with his former employee David Estes bring promoted over him. While Carrie truly seems to not give a fuck, Saul keeps in line. He says “yes, sir.” He advises caution. None of these are inherently bad qualities but in this scene we come to understand that what drew Carrie to Saul was not his caution, his yin to her yang, but his daring and bravery and “FUCK THE CIA” mentality (there’s a reason why that line is in this episode too). 

#2: “You don’t know a goddamned thing”: This scene is now famous for lines like “you’re the smartest and dumbest fucking person I’ve ever known” (he’s not wrong) but this scene is actually one of the more important ones ever on this show, and I still maintain that t“The Choice” is the mos important ever Homeland episode. As to why this scene itself is significant in their relationship, I’ll allow Jacob Clifton to explain:

Saul is one thing only, and his love for Carrie comes out of the idea that they are the same. And he’s right. But because she’s giving up herself to something he can’t, it looks like they are not the same. It looks ugly to him. He fights it like an addict fights recovery, striking blindly at her softest places because can’t stand the change in vector: Her madness is only acceptable as long as it’s useful; her self-abnegation is only positive so long as he can understand it.

I bolded that last sentence because it’s almost shockingly predictive of future seasons. We can hem and haw all we want about Saul’s relative rightness about Carrie leaving the CIA for Brody being a terrible decision, but the truth is that he would have done it regardless of who Brody was. He would have done it if she’d left with Quinn, with Jonas, with Otto, with Estes, with anyone, or all by herself. I don’t actually believe that Saul wants Carrie to be miserable. I just think he doesn’t care. I think he sees her gifts, her “saving the world” (to be totally Mandy Patinkin about it) as a more profound and upright calling than, for example: having a family, being a mother, having an integrated and whole personal life… the list goes on. 

But the moment when Carrie tells him she doesn’t want to end up alone her whole life, like him, is probably the first great fissure in what was until then a generally even relationship. It establishes her desire for… something beyond everything he’d ever shown her (she literally turns down the greatest career opportunity ever for THE DUDE IN THE SUICIDE VEST… and like, did we ever consider that wasn’t really about Carrie loving Brody so much but more about how much she really didn’t fucking want to be Saul????). She threatens his control and he strikes her at the knees. 

#3: Literally all of season three: It’s difficult to choose a single scene in season three to encapsulate just how much Carrie and Saul’s relationship this season was changed but let’s just discuss the overall arc:

Saul and Carrie come up with a plan to lure out Javadi (i.e., Iran) since they know he’s partially responsible for the Langley bombing. In their shared plan, Carrie will pretend to be crazy in front of the Senate and the press so that she seems vulnerable to the influence of a foreign power. Coolness. 

Except Saul changes the plan in the middle and: 

Publicly blames the Langley bombing on Carrie

Outs Carrie’s sexual relationship with Brody on national television 

Has Carrie committed to a mental institution for four weeks with little to no contact with the outside world

Sics Dar fucking Adal on her when she gets out of the mental institution in order to maintain the cover

The scene at the end of “Game On” where Carrie comes to Saul’s house and tells him the plan has worked is devastating to watch. I don’t think it was entirely clear at the time just how much Saul’s plan had strayed from their shared vision until Carrie tells him, through tears, “you should have gotten me out of there, Saul. You shouldn’t have left me in there.” He doesn’t say anything in response. When she tells him it’s too hard, she can’t keep going, he offers her some tea. It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking sad. 

Again: 

Her madness is only acceptable as long as it’s useful; her self-abnegation is only positive so long as he can understand it.

Season three was all about that: about the lengths Saul would go with Carrie’s own illness, and how far along she’d left herself go too. Javadi literally makes a speech about it.

Now, Carrie wasn’t forced to do any of this (well, except the mental institution, that was extremely forced). We see at times how desperately she craves his attention and approval: in “Tower of David,” when she pleads with her therapist to give a good report back to Saul; in “The Yoga Play,” where he berates her for getting involved in Brody Family Drama and tells her she’s ruined everything and ARE YOU HAPPY ABOUT THAT NOW CARRIE (god, the father/daughter vibes in that one are nauseating); in “Still Positive” when she calls him, triumphant, after having arranged the meeting with Javadi and he’s like “oh yeah by the way we lost you for a few hours there.” 

(This doesn’t fit into the above theme but the scene at the end of “One Last Thing” when Carrie tells him in order for any of this shit to work they have to trust each other is one of the most interesting and important scenes of the whole season, simply because it implies one easy truth: they don’t trust each other. And what a change that is from earlier seasons.) 

And yet, he needed her for it all to work. Saul may have been the mastermind of the entire clusterfuck of season three (better on rewatch than you would think!), but without Carrie literally every step of the way, it would have gone up in flames. She lured Javadi to America with her 95%-based-in-reality mania. She convinced Brody to go to Iran knowing it would almost certainly end in his death. And then she went straight along to Tehran knowing she’d probably have to witness it all. 

The end of season three is super interesting in their relationship because I believe in my gut and in my soul that Carrie still resents Saul for convincing her to convince Brody to go kill himself. I really believe this. Again, she wasn’t forced. She did this of her own volition. But he planted the seed in her head, and I think some part of Carrie–likely equal parts rational and irrational–blames him for it, even as she mostly blames herself. 

I won’t even mention Saul’s complete un-acknowledgement of Carrie being nine months pregnant in the last half of “The Star” but Saul basically ignoring Carrie’s child for four years is more significant than we give it credit for.

#4: “Escape or die. I promise.” The season four relationship between Carrie and Saul is interesting because it upends their previous dynamic. Carrie and Saul were always outsiders in the agency, but now he’s actually on the outside and she’s ascended, more an insider than ever. Also, I know part of it was grief, and again this is not an absolution, but where else do we think Carrie learned her casual disregard for human life? I’m just saying, season four came after season three. 

So anyway, when Carrie promises to Saul that he’ll kill him before letting him be re-captured by the Taliban, we almost sort of believe her. She nearly killed him once before (wanna know the quickest way to get me from 0 to 1500 words on this show? mention the end of “From A to B and Back Again.” but actually don’t please).

The middle episodes of season four–Carrie nearly killing Saul, reneging on her promise to kill him, and then tearfully saving him from himself–are extremely moving. And they cement the arc of that entire season, of Carrie ascending where Saul had fallen. “The student becomes the master” (or the Drone Queen, rather) and all that jazz. Her journey to save her soul coincided with her journey to save him. Is that coincidental? Saul stopped being Carrie’s moral compass around the time he lied to her and had her committed. But just as Carrie is finding her way amid the chaos and fog of war, Saul is making backdoor deals with Dar fucking Adal to turn a blind eye to Haqqani’s reign of terror so that he could go and be the CIA director again. 

Saul preached idealism and goodness and morality in an increasingly terrorized, dangerous, chaotic world. He raised her in that image. She strayed, but was finding her way back to it. In those final moments of season four, that betrayal is complete. She detaches from him. And their relationship is forever altered. 

#5: “There’s a line between us that you drew. Forget that. There’s a fucking wall.” Oh, season five. This is getting really long so I’ll try to be succinct: Carrie and Saul’s relationship in season five is about her being in mortal danger and him being like “lol good luck….. NOT.” Ok, it’s only like that for an episode. 

How do they come back from the damage done at the end of season four? I think the answer is that they didn’t. They’re not healed from it. Parts of Carrie don’t trust Saul, and parts of Saul don’t trust Carrie. There are the surface elements of course: Carrie went and found a cool life in Berlin, riding bikes and wearing balloon hats and such, working for a man whose ideals often stood in direct counter to the CIA’s. In effect, she basically went and did the opposite of everything Saul had ever done. That this all comes in a time of real upheaval in Saul’s personal life (Mira divorced him, he’s literally fucking a Russian mole) only makes his ego more volatile. 

And then we have The Landstuhl Conundrum. I’m calling it this because it doesn’t yet have a name but I’m referring to the moment when the doctors say that they can’t wake Quinn from a coma, because if they do he will probably die or have irreversible brain damage. But Carrie and Saul believe he has valuable information about a terror cell that he’d eagerly share after coming out of said coma. Honestly!!! This show is extremely ridiculous sometimes. 

Anyway Saul is like “what would you want me to do if it were you lying there,” implying DUH she’d have him wake her. She says she can’t speak for Quinn. Well apparently she can, because she wakes him. Cue the irreversible brain damage, the almost-death. 

Later Saul comes to see her and Quinn at the hospital and asks how he is. “Not great,” she replies tersely. He tells her he didn’t come here to fight with her. 

Resentment City: Population of 1. I’ve actually beat this drum for a few years, but I still think that Carrie harbors resentment toward Saul for coercing her into waking Quinn. First Brody, then Quinn. This isn’t meant to absolve Carrie of blame. She convinced Brody to go to Tehran because she believed in that mission. She woke Quinn because she believed in that mission. But I do think that Saul gave her a nudge and I’m not 100% convinced that without his influence she’d have made the same choices. When we talk about Saul teaching Carrie, about him mentoring her… and then we talk about Carrie having no regard for human life, of choosing mission over man, time after time… how much of that is her nature and how much is him nurturing her toward that outcome? 

#6: “Maybe I don’t like the idea of you worrying about me.” Season six is spectacularly dull on many fronts, and the Carrie/Saul relationship is not the centerpiece. The evolution of their relationship after Berlin has taken the shape of something like season three. Saul needs Carrie’s help, she’s in no position to give it, he coaxes her with some terrifying outcome If She Won’t, then she agrees, and things still Turn Out Shitty For Her. 

Ultimately I think this season highlights that whatever difficulties they now have working with each other, whatever trust issues they both still harbor, at the end of the day it is ALWAYS Carrie and Saul Versus the World. That’s always what this story has been (though this is extremely different from their relationship being the same as it’s always been), and it’s what the show comes back to after Quinn’s death. 

He still cares about her. She tells him not to, he’s not her fucking father. This is one of the great complexities of their relationship: Saul often does coddle her the way a father would a daughter, but he’s a firm believer in tough love and all the forms that can take. 

Again, I don’t think that Saul wants Carrie to be miserable. I also don’t think he wants her to happy. Her personal fulfillment and well-being is just entirely secondary to her role in his own mission of Whatever The Fuck. I mean I guess his mission is for the world to be more peaceful and better but like… y’know how Thanos thinks that killing half the universe’s population will help with the suffering caused by overpopulation? I’m not saying Saul is Thanos. But they’re both deranged males! (Also, if y’all don’t think Saul would Gamora Carrie right up outta this dimension if it meant fulfilling his life’s mission then please let me sell you this Homeland lamp!) (But honestly, I’m not saying Saul is as bad as Thanos.) (Do not send in asks about this.)

#7: “You’ve given me a hard time these last few years.” Season seven takes the post-Berlin foundation that season six built and adds some new interesting layers that are like a weird inversion/combo of seasons four and five. Carrie’s more on the outside than she’s ever been and now Saul’s the one who’s gone to work for the enemy. 

Still, no matter whatever shit has gone down between them, it’s still Carrie and Saul Versus the World. The show highlights some key ideas in the last three episodes. First, it fully acknowledges that whenever Saul comes calling, Carrie will always answer. Remember how he said this was his Achilles’ heel? Remember how in that same episode Carrie said she was going to be alone her whole life? Remember how Saul raised Carrie in his image? These callbacks are not evidence of stagnation of their relationship; they’re references to its elemental core. 

Second, the show finally has Carrie acknowledge the… um… storm of shit Saul has put her through while also fully copping to the extreme codependence of their entire relationship:

I’ve not come all this way in that fucking plane and in my life to fail in that mission when I know I can succeed. You’ve given me a hard time the past few years. I’m in, I’m out, I’m all over the place. I am not all over the place now. I’m here and I’m all in, and I need you to say yes. 

She pledges her devotion to the mission (above all else). She acknowledges Saul’s hot-and-cold nature with her. And then she says SHE STILL NEEDS HIS APPROVAL because–say it with me–they are in an extremely! toxic! relationship!

In a nutshell, the evolution of the discord in Carrie and Saul’s relationship started with him putting her life at risk in service of the mission. And now we’re at a point where she fully fucking volunteers for the task! In my heart of hearts I think a non-zero part of Carrie is doing it so he will love her more. Did I mention they are in a codependent relationship? 

So where do we go from here?

If you are still reading, congratulations! That’ll teach you to ask me a question about Carrie and Saul! Actually, about five questions were asked. The last–what will happen in season eight that will feel at all like a catharsis–is not one that I’ve actually thought that much about. 

I think I’ve made a case for Carrie and Saul’s relationship being the soul of this show–its mangled, twisted soul. The truth is their relationship is toxic. They are both their best and worst selves with each other. Like family, they know what buttons to push, and where to strike to make it hurt the most. 

What catharsis looks like in this relationship depends a lot on how you see this relationship. For example, it would be cathartic for me for Saul to die, but that will almost certainly not happen. It would be cathartic for Carrie to strike out on her own–finally–and attempt some type of fulfillment. Also very unlikely. 

If I had to guess about what the end of this story will look like for them, it’s probably with Carrie dead. Probably on a mission Saul convinced her to believe in. 

Saul’s been alone his entire life. He will never be less alone because Carrie is alive. I guess that’s the prison he has to live in. And then maybe she’ll finally be free of hers. 

EPILOGUE:

The above is a reading of their relationship that is quite sympathetic to Carrie, obviously, and quite unsympathetic to Saul, also obviously. You will probably disagree. Gail has written very interesting stuff on how the dynamic of the Carrie/Saul relationship is most like handler/asset. I think that is a very astute perspective and there are definitely aspects of it but I think the relationship more resembles the trope of found family: she is the daughter he never had and he is the stable father she never had, and they will both ruin each other. Fin! 

[rostamic]

Interview with the Muse

- What is your Full name? Include any maiden names, aliases, or nicknames.

Rostam Morley. The Third. Esquire.

You can shorten it if you really want, but people usually just call me by my full first name. I prefer my full name. Kerry is the only one to call me “Tammy” and she remains the only one because no one else is allowed to. When I was a kid – sometimes even now – my mom called me “Pancake” as a pet name. They said that was the first English word I spoke during breakfast one day. Not even “hello”.

- When is your birthday? Do you know where you were born and at what time?

14th of May (Ordibehesht 24, Persian calendar). Some village outside of Shiraz, Iran. Don’t know what time.

- What is your star sign? Do you know your Chinese Zodiac too?

Taurus. Explains why I’m so good at bullshitting.

- What is your earliest memory that you can remember?

Fuck if I know.

- Where was your childhood home? Was it more urban or rural?

My adoptive parents’ place was a little outside the city. I’d say it was kinda more semi-urban than suburban. No white picket fences or anything like that, just an old type of house that fit the five of us, somehow. I don’t know what type they’re called. Ranch?

(In other verses his family lived in a semi-detached row home.)

- How was your childhood in general? Did your parents treat you well? Did you have a lot of friends?

It started off weird as fuck. It wasn’t easy to get me from my country and the details are blurry at best. It might be better if I don’t know the whole story. But after I came here to my family, it got better. My parents worked hard for me and when I started talking freely they couldn’t get me to shut up. So I got a lot of friends soon enough. Between the neighborhood kids and school kids, I had no shortage of people to play with.

- How was/is school? What is your favorite and least favorite subjects? What were your grades on average?

School was school. I didn’t get perfect marks and I didn’t want to – just to pass. High school I did the worst. They were being unnecessarily hard to “prepare” us for... what exactly? I found university easier than that. That was bullshit. But, like I said, I passed.

- Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch?

I had some best friends. There were a whole bunch in the neighborhood and I had two at school. A few of them moved away or transferred to other schools and the ones that didn’t weren’t my friends anymore as the years passed. Our interests were no longer the same. That’s fine. Shit happens.

- Were you in any cliques?

No. I talked to everybody.

- Best childhood memory you can recall?

Playing outside, throwing rocks and chasing each other with sticks. It’s not really a memory, it’s a feeling.

- Worst childhood memory you can recall?

I got trapped in an elevator once. I decided to go off exploring on a school trip. Something malfunctioned on the way up. It felt like hours I was in there but it was probably only 30 minutes at most. That wasn’t fun.

- Name an event in your childhood that has shaped you into the person you are today

I sound like a broken record and I usually don’t bring it up, but being adopted tops the list. I don’t know what my life would be like if I stayed in Iran. Thank God I wasn’t born a girl.

- What is the dumbest thing you have ever done to impress someone? Were they impressed or was it all for naught?

I’ve done a lot of dumb shit but it’s rarely to impress anyone.

- Did you ever have any sweethearts or lovers? Do you have a boy/girlfriend?

I’ve had many lovers and a handful of exclusive relationships. I’m not spoken for now. ;)

- Are you a virgin?

Ha. Not since I was 14.

- Do you ever plan on getting married in your life? Do you want kids?

I think it’ll be a long time before either of those things happens.

- Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want?

Ideally both. Being adopted myself, I was very lucky to get a home that treated me well. If I had any kids at all, maybe 4 total – biologically or otherwise.

- Do you think you'd be a protective parent or a relaxed parent?

Probably a mix of them.

- How would you prefer to pass away? Surrounded by loved ones and at peace, or while doing something heroic?

If anything, I wanna die quickly.

- Generally, how healthy are you? Do you get sick or injured easily or are you fit?

I’m healthy. I don’t get sick very often. My serotonin could probably use a boost.

- Have you ever been badly injured before?

A few times. The worst was from a fight in high school. Me and some other guy were arguing over some stupid shit in retrospect. We weren’t the least bit sober and when you’ve got two angry teens rolling, shit hits the fan quick. I’m only glad fists and knives were involved and not guns.

- What is the worst injury you have ever gotten? What was it and how did it happen? Were you ever close to death?

That fight. I still have a scar on my side from it.

I’ve skirted fate once or twice. I might not be so lucky the next time.

- How many times have you been to the hospital/doctor's?

Maybe 3 times? I don’t know, I don’t count them.

- Have you ever had a concussion or brain injury? Have you ever had amnesia?

I got a mild concussion from a fist fight. I’ve also blacked out at parties once or twice. I like staying conscious so I don’t go as hard as I used to.

- What was the worst illness you ever contacted? Do you know what it was? How long were you sick?

The clap. It’s long gone now. Moral of the story: Wrap it before you tap it.

- Ever had any extended hospital stays? What for?

No.

- Have you ever had to give yourself or someone else emergency first aid? What happened?

No.

- Are you employed? Where do you work and who do you work for? What do you do?

Manta Talent Acquisitions. I’m a consultant.

- Are you happy with your current job?

It’s fine. I’ve never done anything like it so it’s been a learning experience. The pay is good and I get flexibility. There’s better jobs out there I know but so far, I’ll stick it out with this one. 

- Did you have any previous jobs? What were they and what did you do?

Lots. Did some short summer work through the years. For full time I was a restaurant host, bartender, construction worker, office aide, bookkeeper for a short stint, and now a talent consultant. 

- Most dangerous thing you have ever done?

Drug mixing + alcohol = you might die.

Shower sex is a close second.

- Do you consider yourself a more active person or a more relaxed person?

Active.

- What is your dream come true? How about your worst nightmare?

I’m not letting you use that against me.

- What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself?

Be a little less temperamental.

- How persistent would you say you are? How much does it take to get you to give up on a task?

It takes forever for me to give up on anything because I don’t like to give up.

- Would you surrender yourself to your enemies or fight to the very end?

That depends on the circumstances.

- When do you usually do your shopping? What is currently on your shopping list?

Groceries I get after work or later at night when the rush is gone. I get my clothing and home things whenever I need them.

- Top three things on your wishlist?

I’ve got what I want right now.

- Currently, what is something you want but do not need?

See above.

- Do you like shopping? What is your favorite thing to shop for?

I don’t care either way. I get what I need and go.

- What is the most expensive thing you have purchased? Was it worth it?

My car. Hell yeah it was worth it.

- What would you do if you were suddenly given one billion dollars out of the blue?

What wouldn’t I do? That’s the real question.

- What would you describe your style of clothing as?

Ah... A nicer kind of casual.

- Do you have any hobbies? Name all of them if you can.

My hobbies? Just watching movies or listening to music. Socializing. Running. Whatever I find interesting at the time I guess.

- Do you like and appreciate art? What is your favorite piece of artwork?

I’ve never been a big art fan. Leonid Afremov has great stuff, though.

- Do you like music? What is your favorite style of music?

I like rock music, but I’m also a basic bitch and listen to top 40.

- Have you ever seen any musicals? What is your favorite?

No. I don’t like singing in shows. People get really angry when I say I don’t like different animated movies.

- What are your top three favorite animals? What would you say your "Patronus" or "Spirit Animal" is?

Elephants. That’s really it. 

Look. How could you not like them?

- What are your top three favorite colors?

Burgundy/maroon, grey, and... I don’t know. White? Black? Yellow? As long as I look good in it.

- What is your favorite season? Do you prefer hotter or colder weather? Do you like snow at all?

Summer. I’ll take hot weather over cold. Cold’s got its benefits, though. As for snow, it’s great to look at and play in, but I’m paying someone else to clean that up.

- What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)?

Every taste has its place in my heart and stomach. 

- Can you cook at all?

Yeah I can cook. But for you? For a price.

- What is your favorite dish? Can you prepare it? Do you have the recipe handy?

Breaded chicken served with oven-roasted allumette-cut potatoes paired with a spiced tomato reduction sauce. I can make it, but I don’t use a recipe so it tastes a little different each time.

- What is your favorite fruit and vegetable?

I love nectarines.

- What is your favorite dessert? What is your favorite type of candy/treat?

Favorite dessert is cookie dough ice cream.

- What is the best thing you have ever had the opportunity to eat? What is the worst?

Pus-- I really love nectarines. The worst was liver. 

- Do you like to drink tea or coffee? Any favorite flavors?

I hate coffee, so I’ll always go for tea. I really like hibiscus tea but I’ll go for any kind of tea.

- Describe your sense of humor.

Situational. Bawdy. Dry.

- What is one thing you are justly proud of?

Where I am now financially. My job, where I live, the things I have. It took a long time to get here. Everything else in life is a work in progress.

- Do you have any religious beliefs? If not, have you ever been to a church service?

I don’t care what you do in your free time. I’ve only been to churches for weddings or funerals.

- What would you say is the worst thing someone has done to you? What is the meanest thing someone has ever said to you?

I had an ex-friend who almost blackmailed me into some serious crime. I’m not talking little drug runs, I mean stuff that’ll get you locked up for the rest of your life and then some. I had to get out of that before things got bad. Mean words on the other hand don’t mean anything to me. 

As for the absolute worst thing someone’s done to me, I’m not gonna talk about it.

(It’s a very sore subject for him, sorry!)

- What is the worst thing you have done to someone? What is the meanest thing you have said to anyone?

I’d never hurt a fly. Honest.

- Share the latest entry in your diary/journal.

Don’t have one. My old counselor suggested me to have one a long, long time ago but I thought it was stupid. I don’t think that as much now, but I still don’t want one.

- What is the most precious thing you own? Is it valuable at all?

A necklace with a little elephant pendant from my siblings. It has no market value but it’s priceless to me.

- Talk about someone you know. It can be someone you either like or dislike.

[proceeds to talk about himself]

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S

Given Name: Dakota Redfield

Nicknames: Kota

Age: 30

Birthday: January 1st

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Birthplace: Dahlonega, Georgia

Current Location: Los Angeles, California

Speaks: English

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Education: Studied biology at the University of Southern California, and got his Bachelors Degree.

Occupation: Wildlife Rehabilitator for the Humane Society of Los Angeles

Vehicle: Black 2010 Toyota Prius

Worldly Possessions: Lots of notepads for making lists (to-do lists, grocery lists, etc), about a million dog toys for Luna and Bear, lots of fancy coffee and tea making equipment/high quality tea leaves and coffee beans, a wine rack which is always kept full (some bottles fancier than others), and a laptop which he uses almost exclusively for watching Netflix and Hulu.

Pet(s): A white Miniature Bull Terrier named Luna. Other names include Lu, Lulu, Lala, Laluna, Lalalaluna (sung to the tune of Ch-ch-ch-chia), and Egghead.

A P P E A R A N C E

Height: 6'0"

Hair: Dark brown, short on the sides with more length on top, always tousled in just the right way. Dakota swears he doesn't spend a lot of time on his hair/doesn't care what it looks like, but that's kind of a lie-- he uses pomade every morning to give his hair that "I don't care" look.

Facial Hair: He always has just the right amount of facial hair, and keeps it perfectly groomed. But of course, pretends like he doesn't really care or spend that much time on it~

Eye Colour: Hazel-grey, with hints of green.

Skin Tone: Slightly tan, thanks to a lot of time spent outdoors.

Clothing: Kota can be a very snappy dresser when he wants to be, with a good eye for style and a knack for putting together outfits. But a lot of the time he just goes with dark jeans and a t-shirt, which he also pulls off very well.

Distinguishing Marks: None really. A few scars here and there, but nothing particularly noteworthy.

Face Claim: Tyler Hoechlin

H E A L T H

Physical Health: Excellent. He really likes working out, and since Luna is a very active dog, they often go on runs together and they do a lot of playing. Kota also likes to go to the gym a few times a week, and he's all about eating healthy, taking vitamins, etc. The only physical problem he deals with on a regular basis is migraines-- they get really intense, sometimes lasting a couple of days, and no medication, no matter how strong, seems to help.

Physical Abilities/Limitations: He makes a mean cup of coffee, and is also a decent cook, as long as he has a recipe to follow. He is also pretty strong, and has good endurance.

Addictions: Caffeine for sure. He would also say he's addicted to Harper~

Allergies: None that he knows of. He's sometimes eaten a meal and had his mouth feel itchy after, but he's never been able to narrow down what ingredient does it. And since it's not a serious reaction, he kind of doesn't care.

Mental Health: It's not bad. He has a happy life, he has a job that he enjoys, a long-term boyfriend that he loves more than anything, a nice home, etc. But he sometimes has this strange feeling, as if something is wrong or that things are just off somehow, but it always goes away after a while.

H I S T O R Y

Job History: He worked his way through high school and college as a busboy in a local, family-owned restaurant. And after college, he got really lucky and basically fell into his dream job.

Fondest Memories: A few memories from his childhood involving his mother. Various memories with his childhood/high school friends. A trip to Canada he went on with his college boyfriend. Meeting Luna and taking her home. Meeting Harper (and taking him home)~

Worst Experiences: Various times when he found his mother blackout drunk when he was just a kid. His mother's death during his freshman year of college. The nasty breakup with his college boyfriend.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N

Speech Pace/Style: Kota has an easy time speaking to/getting along with people. He has a friendly, warm voice, and hardly ever says a harsh word about anyone. Sometimes he does talk loudly, but it's out of excitement/happiness rather than raising his voice out of anger.

Accent: American

Usual Curse Words: He doesn't swear a ton, but when he does it's usually "fuck" or "shit."

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S

Personality Type: ESFJ-T

Sense of Humor: Kota likes to laugh and to make others laugh, and can be quite a goofball. He's serious when he has to be, but otherwise, he prefers to be playful.

Habits: He has a bit of an oral fixation-- if he wasn't so health-conscious, he would probably smoke. Instead, he likes to eat ice, or snack on crunchy things like carrots or celery, and he sometimes bites his nails if he's stressed out. When he laughs really hard (which is a common occurence with Harper), he often gets lightheaded and has to either lay his head down on the nearest surface, or just lay down on the couch or floor. Kota reeeeally likes making lists of any kind, and keeps a lot of notepads and sticky notes around the house for that very reason. He also sometimes leaves cutesy lists for Harper like, "Top 5 Reasons Why Harper is The Worst Boyfriend" or "6 Reasons Why We Should Have Spaghetti For Dinner."

Quirks: Kota is strangely picky about coffee and tea, though he tries not to be a snob about it and would never fault someone for drinking lower quality coffee/liking Starbucks/whatever. But for himself, he always wants the best, and knows how to make really fancy coffee. He keeps good quality coffee beans around, has all kinds of equipment so he can brew the best possible coffee, and he is always happy to make some/share it with Harper. He also keeps good tea leaves around, and makes his own blends of tea all the time.

Fears/Phobias: There are times when he gets this really bad feeling-- like something is wrong, but he doesn't know what, or that something horrible is about to happen. That feeling always freaks him out and it makes him very paranoid whenever it happens. He sometimes wonders if there's something wrong with him, if maybe he has some kind of mental illness, but it always goes away eventually, so he tries not to dwell on it too much.

Strengths: Kota is a very caring person, with a lot of love to give. He has a big heart and always wants to make sure the people and animals in his life know how loved they are. He's very demonstrative with his affection, giving lots of hugs to his friends, holding hands with/kissing Harper, giving Luna and Bear all the hugs and kisses, etc. He is also quite organized, always has things in their proper place, keeps good track of appointments and dates and such. It's very rare for him to misplace anything or forget something, especially if it's important.

Flaws: A lot of the time, Kota ends up with too many things on his plate, because he has a hard time saying no to people. He wants everyone to be happy, and he always wants to help, but that leads to him being overwhelmed, and he sometimes needs a reminder that he doesn't have to do everything. Kota can be really sensitive at times, often taking things to heart even if no harm was meant, or overreacting to anything he perceives as a criticism. This often makes resolving issues with him very difficult, though he generally does see reason once he has a while to think things over, and often realizes he overreacted and apologizes for it. He just doesn't handle confrontation well, that's all.

Hopes/Desires: A lot of the things he's wanted in his life have already happened for him. A nice house, a couple of dogs, someone he loves. Now all he wants is to get married to Harper and maybe adopt a kid or two. He just wants a simple, happy, peaceful life.

Self-Esteem: It's not bad. Kota doesn't tend to focus much on himself or how he feels about himself, but he is generally pretty confident in himself. At the same time, he's very sensitive and it wouldn't exactly be difficult for someone to break down that confidence if they wanted to.

Religion: Naaah.

R A N D O M

Sleeping Position: Honestly, as long as he gets to cuddle with Harper, he doesn't care what position he sleeps in. The only time he doesn't like to cuddle is if he's having a migraine-- then he usually sleeps (or tries to) on his side, curled up in a ball on his side of the bed.

Boxers or Briefs?: Usually boxers.

Day or Night?: Both, honestly.

Top or Bottom?: Sex with Harper is amazing either way, so he doesn't have an overall preference. They just do whatever they feel like in the moment.

Partying or Relaxing?: As much as he likes a good party every now and then, Kota definitely prefers to relax.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

Closest Friend: Kota is a very social person, so he has a wide circle of friends, some closer than others. But honestly, he would say that his closest friend is Harper. Harper is the one person he feels he can truly talk to about anything, that will always be there for him/be on his side, the one person he can always trust.

Relationship History: Kota has been in several relationships before Harper, with only one of those being what he would call "serious." He had a few boyfriends during high school and his early college years, then dated one guy for almost two years-- they broke up after a really nasty fight where they both said things they regretted later. After that, Kota had a couple of casual relationships, a bit reluctant to get into anything more serious, until he met Harper.

Sexual Partners: There have been several, but none outside the confines of a relationship.

Thoughts About Sex: Kota very much enjoys sex, and Harper is, without a doubt, the best he's ever had. He has a pretty high sex drive, which I'm sure Harper doesn't mind~

P A R E N T S

Name: Faith Redfield. He never knew his father, and his mother shut him down whenever he tried to ask about his dad.

Age: She passed away when she was 43.

Occupation: She was constantly job-hopping, taking whatever job she could get and then inevitably losing it just a few months later. She had a lot of retail jobs, food service, front desk positions, all kinds of things.

Religion: She kind of believed in god, but not enough to go to church or anything, and she didn't care whether Kota believed in god or not.

Quality of Relationship With Her Children: It was complicated. She cared about her son, but was not really fit to be a mother to him. She experienced a lot of trauma in her life, including losing the love of her life at a very young age. She never told Kota what he was, just kept it a secret and kept moving the two of them around whenever possible in an effort to keep him safe, but all that really did was make his life unstable and leave him unhappy a lot of the time. She also drank a lot-- she was never, ever abusive to Kota, but a lot of the time, he felt like he was more like the parent than she was. So, they loved each other. Kota misses her. But they didn't have the best relationship.

Living/Deceased: Deceased

D A I L Y L I F E

Living Arrangements: This lovely home right here~

[boydchloe]

Sentry Cat Spray Top Unique Ideas

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Cat Pee Kill Trees

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Can You Spray Catnip On A Cat

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[my-lazy-genius]

London Rains

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: APH Spain (Antonio Fernández Carriedo), APH England (Arthur Kirkland).

Pairing: SpUk/EngSpa [Spain x England]

Summary: In which a thoughtless action on Antonio’s part leads to a long delayed conversation.

Author’s Note: Whoops, I’m late. This is for @engspaweek, Day 1! Free form prompt 23!

It’s raining again in London.

Antonio doesn’t know why he’s here; he loves the sun and warmth and smiling faces, but here it’s cold and wet and everybody looks so somber. He knows he should have expected the rain, but he’s dressed in a short sleeved shirt in a shade that reminds him of the evergreen oaks back home. It’s soaked a shade darker and plastered to his skin, not unlike his hair.

The rain comes down in a mighty torrent, soaking Antonio to the bone and rolling effortlessly off of tan skin.

He turns his face up to it, eyelashes fluttering against his upper cheeks, hands draped by his sides. People weave past him; it’s surreal. He stands, unmoving, while all of this life goes on around him.

He can already hear Arthur’s nagging voice in the back of his mind. Idiot, he’d say, you’ll get sick if you stand in that rain! What in God’s name were you thinking?

Antonio would reluctantly admit that he wasn’t. At least he doesn’t think he was.

Thinking, he supposes, just isn’t something he should be doing. He’s reckless; acts before he thinks. Arthur isn’t so much like that. Antonio likes watching the way his expression pinches when he’s thoughtful, lips turned down and the little tug between those godforsaken eyebrows.

Ah, Antonio’s thoughts come to a stuttering stop. He’s thinking about him again. God, he shouldn’t be here. Arthur’s expression flickers behind Antonio’s eyelids every time he blinks; the blond looks baffled, lips parted and green eyes squinting dubiously. Antonio wishes he could take back what he said, that day.

He hasn’t seen Arthur since.

He drops his gaze and shoves his hands in his pockets, grateful for once that he’d forgotten his phone again. He doesn’t have a waterproof case yet; it would’ve been destroyed in this weather. Antonio brushes his sopping hair away from his eyes and ducks his head, falling into the pace of the people on the crosswalks. He knows where he’s going by now, and his feet take him there without his mind thinking about it.

People under umbrellas give him odd looks, boots splashing in the puddles as they hurry across the street. Antonio goes ahead, picking up speed, walking, walking. Walking turns to power walking turns to jogging and suddenly he’s sprinting. He flies down the sidewalk, half shoving past people with only a little bit of trouble.

I think I love you, Antonio had told him.

It wasn’t often he got Arthur to laugh, but it never failed to take his breath away. After one such instance, the words had slipped out before Antonio could even consider them - another downside to never thinking before he acted, he supposes. Arthur’s lucky.

You don’t think, Arthur had replied, and refused to speak of the subject again.

Antonio has memories here, images that rush past him in the wind and rain, streaming through his soaked hair and wreathing over his ears and shoulders. He’s lying to himself; he knows exactly why he finds himself here so often. Rain or no rain, this is Arthur’s home.

He takes the apartment complex’s steps two at a time, hurtling himself up the narrow concrete platforms, fingers slick on the metal railing and threatening to let him slip. He doesn’t know if it’s just dumb luck, but he’s here and knocking before he dares second guess himself.

There’s a moment, in between the time his knuckles leave the door for the last time and the time it opens, where the whole world seems to hold its breath.

And then green meets green and Antonio smiles that blinding smile of his in response to Arthur’s gaping expressing.

“Bloody hell,” Arthur hisses, throwing the door open and towing Antonio in by the collar of his shirt, “are you mad?! Did you honestly come all this way without at least a coat?!”

Arthur goes on, but Antonio’s too busy staring. He’d expected this, at least - it had been a dumb decision. He’s suddenly hyper-aware that he’s freezing and Arthur is practically radiating heat in comparison; it’s funny, he notes, because it’s usually the opposite way around. If Arthur notices that Antonio is shivering, he doesn’t pause to give notice.

“-anything to say for yourself?”

Antonio blinks. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Arthur stutters, trips over his words, and then promptly glowers, smacking Antonio over the head. The Spaniard just laughs, watching as Arthur stomps off into the other room, returning momentarily with a towel. Antonio narrowly misses getting smacked in the face with it as Arthur tosses it to him.

“Oh, shut up and dry off,” Arthur grumbles, “I haven’t got any clothes that will fit you properly so-”

“I can just go naked?”

“-you’re going to have to deal with ill-fitting sweatpants, is what I was going to say.”

Well, Antonio huffed, that’s no fun. He opts not to piss Arthur off more.

--

“Here,” Arthur murmurs, setting a cup of tea down in front of him.

Antonio is watching raindrops race down the apartment windows, blurring the outside world from within. He still has a towel draped over his head and is now clad in nothing but gray sweats that come just above his ankles; he always forgets how small Arthur is. He’s got such a big presence. The tea gives off warmth and draws Antonio’s attention away from the steady drumming outside. He isn’t sure what kind it is, but it smells nice. His clothes are drying off - he can distantly hear the sound of the dryer.

“Thank you,” says Antonio, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s thanking Arthur for.

Arthur waves one hand dismissively and lowers himself into the nearby recliner. Antonio can feel his gaze, even when he closes his own eyes to take a careful sip of the tea.

“Don’t burn your tongue,” Arthur tells him, raising one eyebrow.

“That’s definitely not what you wanted to say.”

“More observant than anyone gives you credit for, as usual,” Arthur is drumming his fingers against his leg absently, gaze distant. “Why are you here, Antonio?”

Antonio watches the ripples in the sepia of the tea for a moment longer and then withdraws his cold fingers from around the mug. He doesn’t answer right away, turning his gaze back to the window. The rain hasn’t let up - it seldom does, he supposes, at least whenever he’s here - and his gaze follows the droplets down the windows, splotches and streaks against the background of other apartment complexes.

“Hm,” Antonio muses, finally, “I wonder.”

He can practically hear Arthur roll his eyes. The Spaniard listens as Arthur rises and crosses quietly towards him; Antonio expects a flick, but remembers that he probably just can’t feel it through the towel draped over his hair. The water from the curly strands keep dripping onto the bridge of his nose and over the back of his neck.

“Please, even you had to have a reason.”

Antonio lifts his gaze to Arthur. “What if I said you were the reason?” He replies, tracing the rim of his tea. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

“You aren’t funny, Antonio.”

“I’m not joking.”

“If this is about before-”

“About when, Arthur?” Antonio frowns now, but doesn’t meet Arthur’s sharp eyes. “When I told you I loved you? Because you obviously took that well.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now, Antonio,” Arthur snaps, sucking in his cheeks like he always does when he’s frustrated.

He’s glowering. Antonio sighs and shuts his mouth; he’s just frustrated. He hadn’t meant to rile Arthur up. The brunet takes a sip of his tea and listens to Arthur simmering nearby. They’re silent for a while, after that.

Arthur is the first one to break it.

“Antonio,” he says, voice softer, “I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” Antonio interrupts, but he doesn’t look at Arthur, “it’s okay.”

He doesn’t want to hear the words Arthur has to say, even if he already knows what they are. They aren’t quite a thing, not quite dating, not quite exclusive, never quite this or that. Antonio hates this tightrope act they have; Arthur’s balance is perfect, but Antonio is stumbling, lately, teetering dangerously over the drop they stand above. And god, he’s terrified. Arthur approaches again; Antonio is still gazing out the window. He can faintly see his own reflection - he looks tired. Vaguely, he can see the reflection of Arthur standing just behind him, staring out, trying to figure out what Antonio is staring at.

“I had a thought,” Antonio starts, finally.

“Oh no.”

Antonio whirls, gaping. “Wha- I swear it’s a good one this time!”

A little smirk tugs at Arthur’s lips. “The last time you had a good idea, Antonio, it landed you in the middle of a downpour in London.”

It only takes Antonio a second to figure out that Arthur is referring to today. He can’t tell if Arthur is implying that it was a bad idea for Antonio to have come here or not. A pang strikes him and he peers out at Arthur from beneath dripping hair and a white towel. Even here, in the terrible lighting of Arthur’s apartment, Antonio admires him. He wishes, as he always does, that they were something sure.

“I meant it, you know,” he murmurs, unbidden, “what I said.”

Briefly, confusion flickers over Arthur’s features. Antonio wonders if those are freckles he sees, faded, splashed beneath Arthur’s eyes.

“Which part?”

“I think you know which part, Arthur,” Antonio holds his gaze.

Antonio knows he does. It seems to click and Arthur lowers his gaze, just briefly, before looking up at Antonio from beneath pale eyelashes. Finally, he seems to come to some resolve; Antonio only briefly has a moment to hope he hasn’t pushed Arthur away entirely, but then Arthur is stepping forward, reaching out with one hand.

Antonio instinctively lifts a hand to intercept him, but Arthur’s fingers curl around the edge of the towel, just over Antonio’s forehead, and tug it down over his eyes. Antonio’s mind whirls with questions, but he’s not presented the chance to ask them.

Before he can open his mouth, Arthur’s lips are on his, hard and cold and fierce and demanding. Antonio’s thoughts immediately falter.

“Stop talking,” Arthur breaths, harsh and husky against Antonio’s lips.

Ah, Antonio thinks.

Outside, the rain drums on.