#nice to see the voting having the smallest difference

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[qqueenofhades]

oh, absolutely! and that’s why i’m honestly so fed up with these online leftists. they act like they were the first people to sound the alarm on bunch of horrible shit and go all defeatist, completely disrespecting the work of activists and organizers who have been trying to fix these issues since before they were even a thought. there’s this widespread idea that the systems won’t ever work in a way that’s fair because they weren’t designed to, and while yes, the systems were designed to be unfair and awful to marginalized groups, gutting them won’t solve the problem if there’s nothing to replace them with. mutual aid is a wonderful thing and i’m happy to see people talking about it but i don’t think a lot of them realize it can’t replace a system. it can help but it can’t be this thing you throw everything into because you’re disillusioned with the systems. the only way to make those systems better is to vote in candidates who will but these people are so sick of being told to vote they just refuse to even entertain why people may be telling them to do that.

See, this is where far-right libertarians and far-left "burn the whole system down!!!" ideologies once more collide. Far-right libertarians don't want to participate in society and don't want to be responsible for the welfare of others and don't want any rules and definitely no regulations and so on and so forth. Far-left "revolutionaries" claim to want the same thing in terms of destroying the existing system, but they do so out of some misguided idea that either some new and completely perfect system will magically spring from the ashes (spoiler alert: no), or that informal neighborhood-level networks of mutual aid (however they define that, when they're often willing to totally exclude people who disagree with them about the smallest things, so why would they help people they disagree with on everything else?) can replace, as you say, the entire system.

The thing is, if you're reduced to informally scraping along with your local neighbors and have absolutely no other recourse or formal system of governance and/or distribution, you're living in a failed state, and nobody who has ACTUALLY been through that experience thinks, as the Online Leftists do, that it would be a great idea. This is another thing about their total failure to learn from history, or listen to anyone who isn't American, despite the tankies' insistence that America causes all evil in the world forever. My friends who grew up in the former USSR sure don't think their system was great, even if it was called "socialism" or "communism" or whatever terms the left wants to use with no appreciation of their difficulties. And so on.

Basically, it reminds me of when the Brexit loons were insisting that it made no difference to food supply if Britain left the EU, because, and I quote, "Britain is a nation of farmers, we can grow food in our back gardens!" As if the entire point of human civilization has been to bring us back to personal subsistence farming, which has generally been acknowledged throughout history to totally suck and also be the least reliable way of providing for yourself, and also... the idea that personally growing food in your nice back garden in Kent can replace the entire structure and system of the EU single market and customs union is completely absurd. To say the fucking least, and to anyone whose brain isn't poisoned with Brexit Brexit Brexit! And yes, hey presto, Britain is now experiencing food difficulties and frantically blaming it on anything except Brexit. Meanwhile, Sunak finally negotiated a new Northern Ireland protocol with the EU, but it's anyone's guess if it'll pass the Commons, since the Tory backbenchers just reflexively nuke anything that suggests any cooperation with the EU or any acceptance of EU law. Because they want to pretend the EU never existed! (Even though it was Margaret Thatcher's idea/initiative, shh.) Yeah. That'll work.

So yeah. If you live in your own world where facts don't exist, or exist only to support your preferred ideology, and your insistence that destroying the system with nothing to replace it is the best idea... it is, uh, dumb. Which is the nicest way I can possibly put it. It's never worked out before, it won't work out now, and honestly, "I'm tired of being told to vote after I didn't vote and then things went wrong!" is an argument I have NO sympathy for whatsoever. I know things are bad. You know things are bad. If there's a simple, easy way to start fixing it -- and systems CAN be fixed, even if it takes time and is not the instant dopamine gratification of moral posturing on social media -- where you have to participate once every two years, and you don't do it, then yeah. I don't think that person is serious about fixing anything, and I have no obligation or desire to listen to them at all.

[euxeris]

I'm over here losing my mind over the Haruka verdict... I genuinely cannot think of which answer would be better. To be honest, I think he deserves innocent in round 3? But I don't want to give him a triple inno bc I feel like that could be detriment to himself in a different way? Somebody knock me out I've used my brain too much.

[thecreaturecodex]

Creature Codex 2022 Survey Results!

So the turnout for the survey was great! 136 responses on the Google form, but a few people sending asks. I’m not going to post all of it, but I would like to go over some highlights.

Also, to reassure folks: this was not intended as a lead in to major changes on the Codex. I’m still going to be writing monsters for PF1e, and the basic format isn’t going to change. But I wanted to see what folks were interested in.

I was honestly surprised by this result--I was under the impression that the art was a bigger draw to when and why people liked or reblogged my entries. But it’s the smallest result! Flavor text and background info are about evenly matched.

A lot of people had write ins for what RPGs they had played, and what they were currently playing. This was by design; I wanted to focus my options on D&D and Pathfinder variations, because there’s hundreds of different RPGs out there, and this is a Pathfinder 1e blog. There was a huge diversity of games represented, including some I’ve never heard of (Genesys, Lancer), games I didn’t know people still played (Mongoose Traveler, AD&D 2e and D&D 4e), and some games I had forgotten existed (Maid RPG). Notably, the most common game still being played was Pathfinder 1e, with 58 of 133 responses confirming. Followed by D&D 5e, with 56/133. I know there’s a certain amount of self-selection here because this is a Pathfinder 1e blog, but I was pleasantly surprised to see PF1e still so popular.

Unsurprised to see a majority of my voting followers do at least some GMing. And welcome, my 10% of non-playing followers! Glad you’re enjoying yourselves.

I got a number of write-ins for themes people wanted to see me cover. More people voted on what they liked than what they didn’t, and even for things that got a decent number of Do Not Want (Hackmaster and Starfinder were the top two there), there were more people who voted for them. I’ve recently done Hackmaster and Starfinder blocks, so I’m happy to leave them alone for a while.

Now, let’s look at creature types:

You guys like them weird! Aberrations are the clear winner here at 60%, but outsiders (52%) and magical beasts (43%) are no slouches either.

Not a good day to be an ooze or a vermin, it seems. Those types do have some limitations based on the PF1e rules set, so that makes a certain amount of sense. And tells me that an ooze or vermin theme block would not be a big hit. Which is useful information!

Again, useful information. I haven’t posted any playable races in a while, but have a prospect or two in mind. 

The overwhelming enjoyment of historical context is why I reblogged that tarasque folk art post. If you’re looking for book reviews, I’ve been posting those to my “main” blog that has far fewer followers, @demiurge1138. 

This post is probably long enough, but I do want to respond to some of the individual comments. In the interests of not completely destroying your dashboards, I’m gonna put my thoughts under the cut.

All of the comments I got were very nice! Thank you all so much!

Some to respond to:

i literally adore Creature Codex and i think you are perfect, i enjoy any content you feel like sharing and also i would kill a man to be able have a chance to play a tabletop rpg with you. :)

That's very flattering! And slightly intimidating!

Ran the spiral centurion for my party a couple of weeks back; it was well received, and they almost-but-not-quite figured they could just shove the thing over. There's a good chance they'll run into a blue slime next session.

I love this blog! It's very helpful. Right now, my players are interacting with Howler Wasps. They haven't gotten to the nest yet, but one player skinned one and made an outfit out of it. This weekend, they traded that outfit for future "favors". None of that would have happened without you.

I love your stuff! You've turned me on to a bunch of golarion lore, like mahadatari (technically starfinder but hush), the daemons, and qlippoth! I don't engage with your stuff as much as I should (in the social media sense), but I adore the blog in general. I'll fully out myself and say I'm monsterceiling! I actually took some of your advice to make a mahadatari build for Iron gods. She was a magus kasatha, but she died at the end of book one and came back as a duskwalker. I rebuilt her as a phantom blade/brawler with the (minor spoilers) juju zombie kasatha under torch as her phantom. She's currently spreading the gospel of Talavet across numeria!

I love hearing stories about how people are using my monsters at the table! I’d be happy to get those anytime.

I personally find Pathfinder too complicated; I enjoy CreatureCodex as a way to better understand the game without playing it and to see monsters from folklore I've not heard of before (and see new interpretations of ones I have!)

I enjoy all of your work with the Creature Codex, and it makes me want to try the Pathfinder system. I love the care and attention to detail that goes into each entry!

I’m glad I can help make the Pathfinder system somewhat more navigable. 

 I'm tempted to do something like the creature codex, but for Starfinder conversions. Any advice?

Develop a schedule. It doesn’t have to be near daily like my blog (for your sanity, it probably shouldn't be), but having a plan in mind for when to post definitely helps me manage workload. If you’re using tumblr, make use of the queue function; it’s one of the most helpful features of the site. And manage your expectations about engagement. Obviously, engagement helps me feel motivated and makes me feel good, but it takes a long time to get going, and the current culture of the internet makes it less common than it was even ~5 years ago (like when I started). 

I am curious to know why you write "mind-influencing effect" instead of "mind-affecting effect". Just a pet peeve of mine. I really like your work and I want to thank you for it.

It’s a 3.5ism. I feel like “mind-affecting effect” is a clunky bit of English. There’s some other formatting quirks I do that differ from Paizo’s official stat format; I put the Perception score alphabetically among the Senses instead of separating it out from darkvision, low light, etc. And I put Defensive Abilities in their own line instead of mixing them with DR, Immune, Resist and SR. 

Keep up the good work! I enjoy your blog immensely. End of the World week, in particular, was a favorite series of mine.

Thanks, but that wasn’t me. That was @monstersdownthepath​ who did End of the World Week. I have converted a bunch of those monsters, though. Check the “elder evils” tag. 

I do not play pathfinder myself, but have you considered creating a tag for Slaad Lords, Asura Rana, Empyreal Lords, etc (I think the term for them is demigods)? A player who wants to make a cleric of one of your monsters would have an easier time looking through the database if you marked which pages would be relevant for that.

That is an excellent idea. I haven’t gone back through my old posts and added “demigod” as a tag, but I will do so in the Not Too Distant Future. Thanks!

[wisteria-lodge]

Archetypes: Sorting Hat Chats

I’ve been asked about my rationale for naming different primary/ secondary combinations. I did this originally as a tool to help me sort characters - I wanted to see how these types tend to be used, so I could more easily see what subversions looked like. I'll run through my thoughts, but know there’s a lot of variation within each category. But even WITH that variation, I do think that each one has its own specific energy that makes it interesting to talk about. An explanation of the terms I'm using.

DOUBLE LION “THE REVOLUTIONARY”

Pretty straightforward. The Lion primary knows something is wrong, they know it in their bones even if they can’t articulate it, and they’ve got to go out and do something about it. Probably charging at whatever power structure is directly in front of them. It’s unlikely you find a character leading a revolution who isn’t a Double Lion. These guys are intense, inspirational, single minded.

The villain version of the Lion primary tends to be the person who “went too far" or "became the monster they were trying to fight.'' But I think that the much more interesting Lion primary villain trope is the Traitor. Since Lions work from their feelings, and their philosophies can’t necessarily be articulated or linked to individuals outside of them - they can definitely have their head turned while still feeling moral about it.

One of my favorite examples of this Revolutionary archtype is actually Christian Bale‘s character from Newsies. He’s the spark that starts the unionizing revolution, but 100% needs his Badger and Bird lieutenants to keep him focused and keep him from defecting

LION SNAKE “THE ROBIN HOOD”

These guys are similar to the Double Lion - they will recognize a cause or injustice revolutionary style - but Robin Hood doesn’t go up and bang on wicked Prince John’s door. His move is the snake secondary one: confront the problem indirectly. Undermine the regime by stealing tax money and re-distributing it to the poor. Be simultaneously Robin Hood the outlaw and Robin of Locksley the noble, infiltrating and getting information. The Lion Snake is more likely to work within society (or deliberately separate from society) versus just breaking everything down.

LION BIRD “THE LAWMAN / THE VIGILANTE”

The fact that the Lion Bird can either be the Lawman or the Vigilante shows off the very clear hero/villain split you get with Bird secondaries. We also see this with the Snake Bird (simultaneously the Mastermind and the traditional Villain) and the Double Bird (either the Scientist or the Mad Scientist.) This is why I think I had such trouble naming the Badger Bird. I wasn’t leaning into the duality of the Bird secondary enough. The Badger Bird can be the King Arthur, or he can be the Mob Boss, and he’ll look kind of similar either way.

The Lion Bird also has that Lion primary conviction and drive, but they want to follow up on it with investigation, evidence, and plans. I actually think there need to be more stories about Lawmen turning into Vigilantes and vice versa. Because Lion Birds are their Cause no matter what external alignment gets attached to it.

LION BADGER “THE LINCHPIN”

This is my own sorting - although when I came up with this name I still thought I was a Double Bird. The linchpin is the pin-axle thing at the center of a wheel that prevents the whole thing from falling apart, and I think it's a good way of talking about the energy of this combination. The Badger secondary means they’re a lot less single minded than the other Lion primaries: their power comes from being part of a group. They become the emotional “heart” a lot, and have a way of quietly keeping things together just by existing. They can be leaders, but a Double Lion will lead from up front while a Lion Badger will lead from in the middle (if that makes sense.)

I do think it’s really funny that this is a common sleeper villain trope. Peter Pettigrew, Prince Hans, and Randall Boggs of Monsters Inc. all became integral to a group, and then exploit their position within it. They’re kind of the evil bureaucrat. Maybe that's a good trope for children’s media

DOUBLE SNAKE “THE TRICKSTER”

This is another straightforward one. Double Snakes are in it for themselves (and maybe like three other people.) They're going to be clever and tricksy about how they get what they want, and will not mind doing things backward and unofficially. And they won't mind if you know that's what they're doing. There’s something very unapologetic about the Double Snake which makes for very attractive characters. They are consistently voted the sexiest... and when they’re villains they’re fun villains. You know what they want, and what they want is not that complicated. I think that’s a big reason for the appeal of Snake primaries in general. They’re the easiest primary to understand and explain.

SNAKE LION “THE LANCELOT”

I used to call these guys “The Rebel,” which... is too generic, doesn’t really mean anything. So I started thinking about the Lion secondary as the Knight secondary, and I liked that. Double Lions are the Crusader Knight, riding for their Cause. Bird Lions are Grail Knights, riding for their own personal truth. Badger Lions are Champion Knights, here to help the helpless and defend the innocent.

And if that's that case… Snake Lions have to be the Knight Errant, the knight who rides for his lady. It is that simple. Lancelot might be a Knight of the Round Table, but he’s riding for Arthur the person, not Arthur the King. And for his lady, Queen Guinevere. I feel like his dilemma is one that’s common to a lot of Snake Lions: what happens when they’re forced to split their loyalty? It’s tragic, but Lancelot can’t have Arthur and Guinevere simultaneously.

(At least not until my awesome Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot OT3 which I will totally write at some point :)

SNAKE BIRD “THE MASTERMIND / THE VILLAIN”

The classic. We see a little more of the Bird Secondary split, and well… this is your stereotypical villain. They want power. They’re going to use an elaborate plan to get it. There’s a lot you can do with this sorting, but I actually do think it’s fun that whatever you do, this slight undercurrent of villain and/or mastermind… never quite goes away.

SNAKE BADGER “THE LOVER”

The Love Interest sorting. Chances are very good that if there is a love interest (who does not serve some other role in the story...) they're going to be a Snake Badger. Devoted to one person, solving problems by caretaking. This is the Badger secondary who is likely to have the smallest group, which is just going to make them look excessively devoted to their friends. This type is pretty gender neutral, which is fun. A lot of female love interests, but also your Mr. Darcys and Peeta Mellarks.

One of my favorite things about this trope (mostly just because I think it’s funny...) is that if you write a character who is not supposed to be a love interest, but who is a Snake Badger... subconsciously I think people are going to read them as a love interest anyway. Looking at you Jaskier, Horatio, and even Captain Barbossa.

DOUBLE BIRD “THE [MAD] SCIENTIST”

I think that (especially if you aren’t a Bird Primary yourself) your response to hearing a fictional Bird Primary’s motivation is kind of …huh. That seems random. Or oddly specific. You get your Hannibal Lecters, whose entire motivation is... wanting to eat people while drinking nice wine.

Double birds seem especially unusual, just in terms of society. They are Bird secondaries and they interact with the world through gathering data, but their Bird primaries mean that data can literally lead them to any conclusion, no matter how potentially wacky. These guys consciously build themselves from the ground up, and that can make them kind of detached - either in a logical way, or an unmoored way. They're written as either really stable, the rational mentor figure. Or really... not. And that’s how you spot a Bird villain. They’re not after money/power/safety, they’re after something weird.

BIRD LION “THE GRAIL KNIGHT”

This is the trope of Perceval or Galahad, questing after the Holy Grail chalice... which is really just meaning, and truth. It’s a personal quest. Grail Knights tend to ride alone, and a lot of the things that concern them are metaphysical, to do with identity, purpose, things like that. You can have extremely different Bird Lions, but I do think there is a sort of spiritual core there. Doctor Harleen Quinzel sees freedom and truth in whatever the Joker is doing, and then once she recognizes his hypocrisy, has to go build her own meaning.

I actually think these guys are pretty easy to spot because of that Lion secondary. When they change direction, they change direction, and there’s probably a period of despair between the direction changes. I’ve talked about how Bird Lions having a habit of falling apart pretty dramatically, and that’s where this idea comes from.

BIRD BADGER “THE SURVIVOR”

A rare sorting, but an interesting one. I call this one “the Survivor” or “the Last Man Standing” because, well, they seem to be. They seem remarkably stable. This is the Bird primary least likely to be a villain, and maybe the sorting least likely to be a villain. I think what’s going on is that they are grounded and integrated in whatever community they happen to be in (because of that Badger secondary), but they can define themselves and rebuild themselves in the Bird primary way. This makes them uniquely suited to building a new version of themselves for whatever situation they happen to find themselves in.

Maybe a better name for these guys would be “The Adapter.”

BIRD SNAKE “THE ARTIST”

Like all Bird primaries, these guys are inspired by their own projects and their own worldview, but because of that Snake secondary, Bird Snakes have a more easy-going ‘take the world as it comes' kind of energy. They are “the Artist” because everything they do is art: they want to use themselves and the world around them, put all of that towards whatever their Bird primary happens to be interested in.

You can have villains like the Nolan Joker, or the Talented Mr. Ripley, who kind of turn the world into their own personal philosophical social experiment. Or Scotty from Star Trek whose meaning is solely the well-being of the Enterprise. Maybe they just like traveling, and that's all they need. (It's a way for the Bird primary and the Snake secondary exist very happily together, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was pretty common.)

DOUBLE BADGER “THE PEACEMAKER”

Badgers are interesting, because while I think they’re generally regarded as “correct,” they’re also seen as kind of boring. That’s the case with both Badger primaries and Badger secondaries, which means it is doubly reflected in the Double Badger. They often get written as simplistic, the sweet Jane Bennet type who loves everybody and caretakes everybody and just wants everybody to get along.

They are often the targets of what TV Tropes used to call “Break the Cutie.” What could be more interesting than making this character, who wants to be happily part of a community, be forced to build protective models, be all tortured and angsty? I actually think we’re seeing a return of the Double Badger as an interesting character in their own right, with people like Aziaphale, and I'm here for it.

BADGER LION “THE PROTAGONIST”

What can I say? There are a lot of protagonists that are Badger Lions. They want to help the group - so we know they're the good guys - and then they charge and make stuff happen. Lion secondaries are very useful in fiction - you drop them into a situation and stuff just happens. I also think of this as the Starfleet officer sorting - because if you’re a Starfleet officer, either you are the sorting, or can model it really well.

I will say that this is kind of the stock Protagonist sorting, the way that the Snake Badger is the stock love interest and the Snake Bird is the stock villain. There’s just something sort of generic good guy about this one, which is why I want to see it used as a villain sorting more. Badger villains - mostly people who define ‘human’ very narrowly - are insanely terrifying.

BADGER SNAKE “THE ADVISOR”

Possibly “the Power Behind the Throne.” This is another one I had difficulty pinning down. I called it “the Politician” for a while, which unfortunately came off as a little bit more negative than I meant it to, since I think this sorting has a lot in common with Lion Badger, the linchpin of a heroic team. The difference is that Lion Badger takes on that role kind of unconsciously, while the Badger Snake does it very consciously.

Their loyalty is to the group, but their skill set is all about subversion and different ways of going around the group, which is why there’s an interesting contradiction at the heart of Badger Snake. A lot of real life Badger Snakes struggle with feeling like “bad people" and it's too bad. These guys are ridiculously powerful and competent when they are sure of themselves, and I love seeing them in action

BADGER BIRD “THE KING / THE MOB BOSS”

Another difficult one, despite (or because) I really like them. I was calling them “the Architect” because “The City Planner” sounded too boring… but that’s what they do. They’re all about the community but they problem-solve the way all Bird secondaries do, by prepping, and gathering knowledge. I talked more about this in the Lion Bird entry, but Bird secondary seems to have this villain split going on, and that’s what I see here too. This is a controversial love-them-or-hate-them sorting, and I think that’s why. There’s a lot of room in whether or not you see this sorting as villainous.

[beauty-and-passion]

What Eurovision 2021 taught us

1. That a nice, enjoyable show was possible (even if 4 presenters are still too much)

Of course nothing can beat Love Love Peace Peace (even if Ja Ja Ding Dong does its best), but this year's intermissions were very enjoyable.

We expected something flashy and over the top because hey, The Netherlands. Sex, drugs, gays and all that jazz.

But instead Covid surprised us. And then The Netherlands surprised us even more, by making a very enjoyable show, despite the restrictions. My personal favourites were:

The water intermission of the first semi-final. I loved the mixed feelings, how water is both scary and respected, for being such a powerful, unstoppable force.

The rooftop concerts during the final. Social distancing? Sure, no problem, let's make the past winners sing on top of some roofs all over Rotterdam. That was pure genius, I loved it so much.

On the other hand, the presenters were basically all useless. We could've had just two of them instead of four. But hey, at least they weren't as cringy as the three scary ukranians from 2017 or the useless four ladies from Portugal. The true highlights of the show were the intermissions, the guests and especially the songs themselves and this is perfectly good for me.

________________________

2. That we can live in a world without boring ass ballads

I’ve never been so proud of the Eurovision public, especially during the second semifinal: that evening was PACKED with ballads. Boring ballad after boring ballad, with just a couple more funny songs in between.

The ballads were all left behind. Even the two Amen. And I love the irony we chose El Diablo and the finnish band for the final, but no Amen. No saints allowed, only the norwegian angel. As it always should be.

And so we had the best final I've seen since I started following Eurovision in 2014. Catchy songs, dance songs, upbeat songs. And power ballads. Yes, ballads can still have a place, but only if they're good.

Because yes, Switzerland and France were good. Very good. Just not as good as the ones the public wanted.

________________________

3. That we want Eurovision, not Englishvision

Every year, the same message blasts from all Europeans: send a song in your native language. This show is supposed to make other people from Europe (and the rest of the world) to know more about your own country, to enjoy its rhythm and to listen to something we don't usually hear. So why waste this huge opportunity, to bring a generic song in English?

Because the English song wins. Because we all understand English, so English has more chances.

Flash news: GUESS WHO WON THIS YEAR. No, it’s not the generic English song.

The public has been crystal clear, the final poll is even clearer: the top five includes an italian song, an ukraine song, two french songs and only one english song. We want different styles and rhythms, we want to listen to Europe.

So I want to give my full thank you to:

Albania: amazing song, great voice, wonderful language. Do it again.

Serbia: these ladies are fantastic, their song is great and they sang it in their language so I love them

Switzerland: thank you for leaving English to the side to give us some good french

Spain: the song wasn't as good as Universo, but it was in sexy spanish, so thank you for using it almost every year

Danemark: the song was terrible, but it was in your language and this alone deserves everything

France: I know we all make fun of you for being France, but your language is perfect for songs, so thank you for always using it

Ukraine: take note, Ukraine, because Europe is madly in love with your language and your rhythm

Italy: our language is beautiful, so thank you for delivering every year

While my biggest biases go to:

Greece: a generic pop song with no balkan rhythm and no greek either? An absolute shame, greek should always be used for songs.

Russia: russian language is very melodious and yes, we got something this year, but what about bringing a full russian song? We want it!

Germany: I may sound crazy, but I honestly think german language is good for songs. It's not like the mediterranean languages, but it still works. So please, do not be scared and show what you can do with it!

Scandinavian countries: why do you never want to bring your own language? Do it, don't be scared! Yes, Sweden, I'm talking with you: you still never tried to bring something in swedish, so do it.

________________________

4. That we don't want Americans to play with us

For reasons we still have to understand, Flo Rida was competing this year. And he was competing for San Marino, the smallest European country.

I'm pretty sure they took some time to explain to him what was going on, where he was, where San Marino is, wtf was happening, why there were sexy italians and ukranian witches and a norwegian angel and loads of beautiful women everywhere.

And I loved how we all send memes about this, about ahahah why is Flo Rida here, what if San Marino wins where would they host Eurovision, all while enjoying an actual catchy song.

And then, in the end, Flo Rida basically disappeared. Who remembers Flo Rida, when we got Ukraine, Italy, Finland, Iceland, and the UK? And Germany being wholesome? And the love story between Norway and Azerbaijan? We collectively forgot about him and I think it's very sexy from Europe to just say "nope" and push America away, even if for just one week.

And this isn't the first time: we basically showed Madonna in a corner in 2019, thanks to Mans, Eleni, Verka and Conchita. Once again, Europeans knows what they want: we don't want Americans. Australia can because they're like that little brother we took under our wing for no reason and now it's part of us. But not Americans.

The rest of the year is all yours, but one week is ours.

________________________

5. That we can lose like bosses

This year, the voting results have been absolutely insane and FOUR COUNTRIES got zero points from the public, while the UK got both zero points from the public AND the jury.

Don't get me wrong, the song was bad. And yes, Brexit played a role in this. And yes, hating England is Europe’s favourite sport.

But can we please all take a moment and appreciate how James Newman reacted? The public gave him a round of applause and he celebrated this achievement like a boss.

And he had all the reasons! He achieved something incredible, he unlocked something that this new voting system was supposed to never lead to. But he did it. So hats off to you, my boy: My Last Breath was better.

Germany is also used to the bottom of the chart, but this year I really thought Jendrik could have a chance to achieve a higher position. The song was funny, carefree, lively, the hand costume was the kind of trash we need and the message was nice as well. But he still got 3 points.

Despite that, Jendrik celebrated like a maniac and seeing his this happy made me happy as well. I really wish him the best.

________________________

6. That FUCK YOU JURY

Again, same message every year: the jury vote should be eliminated. It's a fucking farce and their votes have nothing to do with what the public want.

The jury focuses on the voices, except when they don't, and clearly giving points to your neighbours is because you like the song, not because they're your neighbours.

I usually make fun of Greece and Cyprus showing eternal love to each other, by giving 12 points to each other every year, but this time, it sounded even more stupid than usual. It really looked like a farce. Why should we see this farce? Why can't we just choose what the public wants? So at least we would blame ourselves for our shitty musical tastes.

Even if I'm pretty sure we all have great musical tastes. Let's not forget that in 2019 the public's winner was Norway, with a song that mixed english, a catchy rhythm and an amazing part in yoik language. Arcade is good as well, but we cannot deny the norwegian entry was a lot more interesting.

And this year, the public's taste was flawless:

Look at this beauty: italian glam rock, ukranian techno folk, french powerful ballad, finnish hard rock and whatever that thing was with Iceland.

There's variety, there's everything for everyone. And there are native languages. Italian, Ukranian, and French on top three, followed by English.

Moral of the story: the public is great and the jury should be abolished forever.

________________________

7. That Ukranian technofolk is all we needed in our lives

I didn’t see enough love for Go_A, so as italian, I think it's my sworn duty to give my appreciation to them and their amazing entry, because this band is awesome and Shum is currently on top of the Spotify top 50 - as it should be, because everyone should listen to it and join this slavic rave party.

I already liked their entry for 2020, Solovey. But I also liked My Last Breath from the UK and Universo from Spain. And this year they brought two of the worst songs. So I was very wary of Go_A.

But Shum is an absolute blast. Katerina Pavlenko's voice is unique and the song is even more, because based on ukranian folklore and traditional dances to summon the spirit of spring. They managed to teach something to all Europe in a three minute song and I think that’s incredibly sexy of them.

And so, I searched for other songs and OMG, I don’t know how it’s possible, but they are all great. Rano-Ranenko, Zhalmenina, Tanula, they all are perfect and I’m in love with this band.

And if all of this is not enough, THEY DID A COVER OF DANCING LASHA TUMBAI. The most iconic Eurovision song, sang by our god Verka. And this is the coolest, most badass cover ever in the whole universe. Please listen to it HERE everyone needs to hear this.

So thank you, Ukraine, for giving us Go_A. We all had a small empty place in our hearts and this place has ben perfectly filled by them.

And yif you think you don’t need ukranian technofolk, is only because you still haven’t listened to it. Please listen and enjoy Shum. You’re welcome.

________________________

8. That rock and roll never dies (and Italy’s well deserved victory)

The last time Italy won was in 19-fucking-90. 31 years ago. I was just born.

And now, they finally won again. And what a song! Despite being italian, I've never listened to Maneskin before, but oh damn, this song is good. Not all their songs are, but this one is. And also Morirò da re.

Their show was perfect as well. This post is really eye-opening about how well they put on their show. The use of the stage, the movements, everything has been part of a great performance, even their clothes. Damiano's voice never faltered, despite having an entire continent watching him. They handled the stage like bosses, despite being only in their twenties. And they gave us some good fucking rock.

And so the public said a loud "FUCK YOU" to the jury and chose its winners. The sassy, sexy italians.

And yes, I know that there has been a lot of petty polemics because those youngsters are having drugs!1!! as if they were a bunch of idiots who used drugs on international TV, with their manager sitting next to them.

Of course it was a pointless accusation and honestly I don't care if some people are sore losers. The drug results were negative anyway, what a shocker.

What we should truly think about is how strong the Maneskin's bladders are, because they spent the whole evening of the final drinking the entire alcohol supply of the Eurovision and, at the end, they were still happy and cool. Hats off to you, you sexy people.

This man is just iconic, why did I miss him before.

Also, have some more Maneskin. You know, as a treat.

________________________

9. That solidarity and wholesomeness are the biggest winners

It's just beautiful to see these nice people, from all over Europe, bonding, having fun, taking photos together and being friends.

The true winner of this, is probably Norway: Tix wanted to have a good time and he had a good time. The video of him vibing with Ukraine and Germany while listening Hard Rock Hallelujah is the best (HERE). His love story with Efendi from Azerbaijan is even better (please, check the video on his youtube channel, it's hilarious). I don't like his song, but he's a great guy and deserves everything.

The italian and finnish rock relationship is also great. Maneskin and Dark Sides found each other, considering they were the only two rock bands in the competition, so mutual appreciation was inevitable.

But Damiano is also a man of culture and he appreciates Ukraine's entry. And Ukraine appreciates both Finland and Italy. Is this what world peace looks like? Because I love it.

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10. That Italians will be Europe's clowns again (and you're all allowed to make fun of us)

Beware, Europe: we Italians are messy and chaotic, our presenters don’t know a single word in English, we are homoerotic AND homophobic at the same time, our musical competitions are so fucking sloooow... let’s say next year’s Eurovision is going to be interesting.

And yes, you’re allowed to make fun of us. We don’t care, we won, so we deserve to be Europe’s clowns once again.

And I don’t know who the presenters will be (my bets are on everyone’s favourites: Fiorello, Amadeus and Malgioglio), I don’t know how we will ridicule ourselves once again, I don’t know where will we find the money to put on the show, I don’t know how ungodly long it will be... but I know that Mans Zelmerlow will be part of it. This man loves Eurovision just like all of us, so I can already see him packing his suitcase and planning his flight to Italy. Come to us, Mans, we will wait for you. We actually need an English presenter, so if you have nothing else to do...

[alpacaparkaseok]

Dad of Destruction

requested by anon - thanks for the super fun request! I hope you enjoy :) (a picture of your request is at the bottom of the one shot)

Premise: You love Namjoon with all your heart, and you’re so happy that together, you get to raise this child. However, you also want that child to make it to adulthood in one piece, and Namjoon has a startling talent for breaking things. Mama bear mode = ON.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none, but I’m so soft for this concept

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

You’d heard plenty of people joking about how much of a mama bear you’d be once the little one came along, you just never realized that they were right.

Sitting up in the hospital bed with the smallest, most beautiful bundle of joy wrapped up in your arms, you can almost feel this new side of you sliding into place. 

“I won’t let anything hurt you. Ever.” You mumble the words out with tired but glowing eyes. Namjoon grunts in agreement from where he stands beside the bed, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of his newborn daughter.

Giving him a soft smile, you can’t help but feel like you’re floating above the clouds with the way your daughter yawns in your arms, completely unaware of the world she’s just been born into. 

Namjoon brushes your hair back behind your ear. “You must be exhausted,” he observes. You make a noise that resembles a yes. “Here, let me take her. You rest.”

Suddenly you’re wide awake. “N-no, it’s fine, Joon. I’ll hold her. I’m not that tired.”

“You sure?” There’s a small flash of concern in Namjoon’s eyes, but he knows to just let you have your way for now. After all, you did just go through a grueling delivery. 

“Positive.”

~~~~

You can only get away with it for so long. 

You manage to stay another night at the hospital, with Namjoon only ever holding Lily - that’s what you and Namjoon decided to name her - when you are in the room.

Preferably within arm’s length. 

It’s not that you don’t trust Namjoon...

It’s just that you don’t overly trust him. Especially as you were reminded of his destruction abilities this morning when he very nearly broke the carseat as he attempted to get it set up in the back. With every crack and curse that he quietly spit out at the infernal device, you held Lily a little closer to your chest. 

Winking down at the newborn, you faked a confident smile. “Daddy’s got it, don’t worry. We’ll get you home in one piece.”

Of course, you drove home. Namjoon tried to protest (he’d gotten his driver’s license six months ago purely for the ability to be able to drive his child around) but one look from you had him chewing on his lip while sheepishly sliding into the passenger seat. 

The next few days comprised of a few small gatherings where the boys came bearing a ridiculous amount of gifts and even more ridiculous smiles once they spotted Lily. Everyone commented on her beautiful eyelashes, and argued over who she resembled more. 

You secretly hoped she’d take after Namjoon’s side. If you were being honest, she already had little dragon eyes that resembled her father. It made your heart melt. 

Your heart positively stopped beating altogether anytime Namjoon wanted to cradle Lily in his arms to show her to Jin or Tae. 

Everyone noticed, and laughed. Your tense shoulders and unblinking eyes as you tracked Namjoon’s every movement had the boys in tears as they guffawed over your actions. Namjoon blushed, settling Lily in Tae’s eager arms. 

It got worse once Namjoon realized that you relaxed once your daughter was in Tae’s arms. 

Or Jin’s.

Or even your nosy neighbor’s, who had come prying not long after the boys had left. 

It had been endearing to see you all protective before, but now it was offensive. Because you were trying to protect your daughter from him.

If Namjoon was being completely honest, he still didn’t quite trust himself to not mess anything up. But he’d at least like a vote of faith on your part. 

So a couple of weeks later as the two of you sat across from each other at the dinner table, he wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up with you.

Your shoulders were slumped, your eyes drifting shut as you picked at your food. Namjoon watched, waiting to see if you were about to pass out in your dinner. When you didn’t, he decided it’d probably be nice to make some small talk.

“I can’t believe I have to head back into work tomorrow,” he sighed. Bighit had given him two weeks off to spend with you and Lily, and it was safe to say that he’d loved every moment of it. But it was time for him to head back into work. 

You frowned at him over the table, and the part of him that was sad about having to return to work only doubled in size at the expression on your face.

“It’s gone by so fast,” you muttered. “Can’t we pull just one more week? I’m going to miss having you around all day.” A part of you also wondered what it would be like to feel like you could take a nap without keeping one eye open in case of an emergency. 

Lily could handle herself, it was Namjoon that always kept you in high alert. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

Namjoon smiled softly, and you noticed just how exhausted he looked as well. Through and through, you two were equals. “I’m going to miss you guys.”

Plural. A thrill races through your body at the plural form of his words, reminding you that together, you’ve created a little family. 

Pushing back in his chair, Namjoon looks contemplative. “You know, I bet I could take Lily with me to work sometimes. On the days where I’m just working in the studio. She’s young enough that I could just set up the little newborn swing and let her nap while I work. The boys would love that, too. And you could...I don’t know, take a nap?” He laughs a little, oblivious to how pale your face has gone at the notion of him taking Lily alone to work. “We’d be fine, I think. I’d take the diaper bag, and there’s a bathroom just down the hallway-”

The images of everything that could possible go wrong - one of them being an entire speaker being knocked off the table by your clumsy husband only to land on your helpless daughter - is enough to have you shooting to your feet.

“No way,” you sputter. “That’s definitely not happening. Not for a long, long time, Namjoon.” Heart thundering against your chest, you hardly notice the crestfallen expression on Namjoon’s face. 

“It was just a thought-”

“And I’m putting a stop to that thought.”

“I just thought it might be nice for all of us-”

“Nice?” You must look like a gasping fish at this point. “Nice, Namjoon? No. I wouldn’t be able to rest without Lily here! You really think I could just leave her with you? What if something happened? What if you knocked something off your desk and hurt her? Spilled hot coffee on her? Forgot she was there? I...that would be a nightmare!”

Namjoon hardly has time to open his mouth to respond before you’re grabbing both of your dishes and rushing back into the kitchen to wash them. Chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, you hardly notice Namjoon’s presence at your elbow before he’s lightly nudging you to the side. 

“Let me,” he mumbles quietly enough that you hardly catch the words. “Go to bed. I’ll finish up.”

You pay him no mind, scrubbing at the dishes with reckless abandon. Namjoon breathes in deeply, struggling to steady himself. 

Tears are pooling in your vision now, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve lost all control over your emotions. 

Over your life. 

“I...” you sniffle in the direction of the sink, “I’m sorry, Joon. It’s just-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Namjoon nudges you again, pulling the sponge from your hands and setting to work on the dishes. “I know that everything is different and new, and you’re probably feeling out of balance. I should have thought about that. Lily is...your anchor right now. I was just upset, because that’s supposed to be my role.”

His words have your eyes widening as you realize that everything he said is correct. Namjoon doesn’t bother to look to see if his words rung true, opting to focus on the plate that has been clean for a while now but continuing to scrub at it. 

“Go to bed,” he orders lightly, still not looking at you. 

Mouth wide open, close it again. Then re-open it. “Namjoon, I swear, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m just...freaked out.”

He nods curtly. “I know.”

~~~~

A part of you remembers feeling the bed dip not long after you’d collapsed upon it, letting you know that Namjoon was also settling down for the night. He’d gone completely still after sitting on the edge of the bed, looking over at you as though he might say something. 

Instead, he’d slid under the covers as smoothly as possible before turning the lamp off. 

It was one of the rare occasions that he’d managed to not tip anything over in his search for the lamp switch, but your exhausted brain hadn’t bothered to celebrate the occasion. 

You were exhausted. And you realized that it wasn’t so much physical exhaustion as it was emotional. 

Of course you didn’t want Namjoon to have to go back to work tomorrow, but you were also looking forward to a little sliver of peace knowing that you only had to worry about Lily. 

Starting tomorrow it was just going to be you and Lily. A little team of two against the world. 

Sleep completely overtook you, and Namjoon’s words managed to slither their way into your brain, following you into your dreams. 

“She’s your...anchor. I was just upset, because that’s supposed to be my role.”

~~~~

You were so far gone into your dreamland that Lily’s cries took much longer to get to you that night. In fact, it was more the feeling of suddenly being alone in the bed that roused you from sleep than it was your daughter’s crying. 

Completely disoriented and still half in a dream that had to do with anchors and Namjoon’s studio, you sit up in bed and struggle to rub the sleep from your eyes. 

Another couple of minutes passed before you bolted out from under the covers, realizing that Lily had been crying, Namjoon was gone, and now it was utterly silent.

“Oh no.”

Wrapping your robe around your frame, you padded down the hallway to Lily’s room. Her door was open, with the soft light from her nightlight spilling out into the hallway. You’d just made it to her door when you heard Namjoon.

“See? We’re doing alright, Lils.” 

Peering into the dimly lit room, your heart clenched and then completely melted at the sight before you.

Namjoon, clad in nothing but his basketball shorts and mussed hair, stared down at his daughter with a smile so soft that you were sure you’d never seen it before. His eyes, however tired, practically glowed with adoration. Ever so gently rocking back and forth in the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room, he only had eyes for his daughter.

Lily appeared to be utterly content in her father’s arms, already drifting back to sleep. The only sign that she was still somewhat awake was the little hand that reached up to grip Namjoon’s finger. 

Together, your entire world swayed back and forth in the rocking chair that had taken an entire afternoon to put together. Quietly, gently. 

And as Namjoon slightly adjusted his hold, he did so carefully. And that’s when you saw it. 

The flicker of worry in his eyes as he brought Lily closer to his chest. The way he held his breath until she settled back into her sleepy daze. How that little smile reappeared as her little exhales tickled his skin.

Namjoon was learning, and judging by the fresh diaper laying atop the wastebasket by the door, he was doing just fine. 

No thanks to you, of course. 

At the sound of your sniffle, Namjoon’s head shot up. He winced, glancing down to make sure Lily hadn’t been rudely awoken. 

His eyes found yours from across the room, and he immediately bit his bottom lip. He began to slow his rocking, preparing to let you take over. 

You held up a hand. “No, it’s fine. Keep going.”

Namjoon froze for a moment before remembering to continue rocking. “...what?”

Shrugging, you silently make your way into the room and take a seat on a footstool beside Namjoon. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

You give him an apologetic smile. “Yes. I...truly, I’m sorry, Namjoon. You’re just trying your best, and I haven’t given you any credit for that. You...” Tears blur your vision. “You’re a great father. And we both love you.”

Namjoon stares at you for a moment longer, eyes wide with emotion before looking down at Lily’s sleeping form. “How did we make something so perfect? She’s absolutely perfect.”

You giggle quietly. “Are you doubting my abilities, Mr. Kim?”

That soft smile splits into a boyish grin, the same he sported on your second date all those years ago. 

“Of course not. Although it does make me wonder...”

Your eyebrows raise. “What?”

That grin doesn’t falter as Namjoon whispers, “What do think the chances are that the next one is just as perfect?”

Fighting the urge to punch his arm, you settle for rolling your eyes. “We are not even entertaining the idea of another kid right now, Joon. Our daughter just turned 2 weeks old. Give me a break.”

“I want to give you a break,” Namjoon presses, wiggling his eyebrows. “So how about you let me take her to work? That would be a great break for you. You wouldn’t have to worry about either one of us!”

“Nope.”

Namjoon frowns. “Still a no?”

You look at the small form in his arms, peacefully sleeping. “Absolutely not. Maybe when she’s 10.”

Gasping, Namjoon’s eyes twinkle with joy. “10?! I was thinking more like 3...”

“Nice try, loser.”

“4?”

You give him a long look, finally rising from where you sit. Pressing a kiss to Lily’s rosy cheeks before turning to brush your lips against Namjoon’s, you sigh.

“6. Final offer.”

Namjoon sighs, but appears to be content. “Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you negotiate?”

Heading toward the door, you stifle a laugh. “We are not having another kid right now, Joon.”

His sigh of disappointment has you grinning, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

Once you’re back into the hallway, you turn to get one last look at this moment. Namjoon has already focused on Lily again, oblivious to your actions. The moonlight trickles in through the curtains, and that’s when you take a mental picture of this moment. 

Of your love, your husband, your anchor. Holding your daughter in the soft moonlight.

masterlist

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Skinwalker pt. 1 (Lost Boys)

Pt. 2

Imagine being a skin-walker (an immortal who can transform into an animal, in this case a large wolf like dog) and being taken in by the guys.

Word Count: 1609

~

You've been living alone for quite some time now, always on the move. Never staying still for too long in case someone discovers your secret.

Skin-walkers are rare; only a few have ever come into existence since the beginning of time. You're one of them, wise and ancient beyond your appearance.

Anyone who saw you in your human form would assume your age to be around the twenties, and they would be terribly wrong.

Being immortal can be lonely, though, especially for a skin-walker of your kind. Dogs are loyal and loving, craving affection just as they crave food.

That's why it's hard when you find someone to love, and they are taken from you in only a few decades.

Fed up with the pain, you've been living solo for years, out in the wilderness where no one can find you.

You've missed civilization, though, so one day you decide to go back.

~

Nighttime on the boardwalk in Santa Carla. The perfect time to be out and about, discovering awesome things to do.

People, each individual as different as the sands of the earth, wander around, listening to the live concert, and enjoying the sights and activities available.

The Lost Boys, as they are called by the locals, arrive at the boardwalk on their motorbikes. Paul and Marko laugh and jostle each other as David smokes and Dwayne observes the crowd with a smile.

The vampires are accustomed to the night scene of the city. People dancing and yelling and doing everything else imaginable as the boys look on, sometime joining in.

Tonight, something feels different. The air sparks with more electricity and the stars shine a bit brighter, although no one except Dwayne really pays attention.

A loud howl cuts through the air, trying its best to break through the many noises of Santa Carla. It succeeds in gaining the attention of the four vampires.

"You hear that?" Marko asks excitedly. He was sometimes easily entertained with the seemingly smallest things.

Paul grins, "Yeah, dude. It sounded like a wolf or something."

"A wolf around Santa Carla? That's never happened before."

"It's probably just a mutt," David drawls, taking a drag from his cigarette. "But let's go check it out anyways."

He drops the cig and crushes it under his heel before mounting his bike. The others follow suit and soon they are racing towards the forest where the howl came from.

Another howl sounds, more sorrowful than the last. They slow as they approach the source, looking around warily with excited grins plastered on some of their faces.

In the centre of a small foggy clearing, sits a marvellous creature. As large as a wolf, although some of its features varied from the traditional wolf, sits a dog, whose h/c coat gleams in the starlight.

Its e/c eyes stare soulfully at them as they come to stand in front of it.

"See, told you it was a mutt," David states, clearing unimpressed. The dog flattens it's ears at the remark before shaking its head pointedly.

"Look, it's tied up!" Marko says, noticing the heavy chain wrapped around its neck.

"C'mon dude, help," Paul moves closer towards the animal, who doesn't move a muscle, it's eyes trained on Dwayne.

The curly blond cautiously approaches alongside Paul, helping him take the chain from around its neck.

"Shh, it's alright," he pauses. He doesn't know the sex of the creature, so he glances down. "Girl," he adds, nodding to himself.

Marko tosses the chain aside before petting the dog, grinning wide at the soft feeling of her fur in his fingers. Paul joins and pets the dog as well.

The dog's foot thumps rapidly as they ruffle her fur in a loving manner, getting that sweet spot on her neck.

"Can we keep her, David? Please?" Paul begs, looking up with a large grin.

David rolls his eyes, "Seriously? We don't need a stray."

"Max has one," Marko argues, making puppy eyes at the group's secondary leader.

"Max has a hellhound, not some runaway mongrel," David shoots back.

"I say we vote on it," Paul declares, scratching the dog's chin before standing with his arms crossed.

Marko nods but sits down beside the dog with a happy smile as the dog licks his cheek affectionately.

"I vote we keep her!" Marko chirps.

Paul states his agreement.

They turn to Dwayne pointedly and so does the dog, her head tilted questioningly.

He sighs and smiles, "Let's keep her."

David scoffs, but shrugs in defeat, "Fine, but I ain't dealing with it."

Marko and Paul let out yips of joy as the dog lets out a happy howl. The dog leaps up and goes to Dwayne, pressing her head against his hand. He pats her with a soft smile.

~

Back at the cave, David is seated on his old wheelchair, Paul on the broken fountain, Dwayne by his stereo, and Marko on the floor next to you.

You had followed the boys to their home, instantly liking it. There was a couch and a bed, and other things that you haven't seen for a long time. A bond had formed instantly between you and three of the boys, although David was more opposed to your presence.

"I guess we better name you, huh?" Marko says happily.

You whine and nod as David rolls his eyes. "It can't understand you, Mark. It's an animal."

Shaking your head, you paw at Marko as he stops rubbing circles through your fur. He continues the motion, making you smile in appreciation.

You know they're vampires. How could you not notice the otherworldly scent coming from them. You've met vampires before, although none as nice as these.

Vampires can read minds, or, at least, most minds. Yours is impenetrable when you so desire. And, right now, you want your mind all to yourself.

The whole chained-up-in-the-forest act was precisely that: an act. You put yourself in that position and cried out for help, determined to find someone worthy to befriend.

And, these four vamps heard your pleas and helped you.

"How about 'Girly'?" Marko suggests.

You growl and shake your head, baring your teeth.

He laughs, "Okay, something more badass then."

"What about 'Princess'?" Paul offers before inhaling some suspicious smoke from his joint.

Another loud disapproving growl sounds from your throat.

He chuckles.

David sneers, "How about 'Bitch'?"

You turn your e/c orbs towards him, glaring at him. He's unfazed, so you stand, ignoring Marko's protests, and stalk towards the platinum blond.

He raises his eyebrows and stares you down. You sit directly in front of him, staring right back at him.

A moment of silence.

"This dog is freaky."

Nods from all of the boys.

"That's why she's perfect for us!" Paul exclaims.

You look back to Marko, silently telling him to continue searching for a name.

He seems to get it as he hums thoughtfully. "'Biscuit'?"

Nope.

He sighs, "I'm out of ideas."

Dwayne speaks up, the first time in awhile that he has done so, "Venus."

He says it like he knows it fits and that you'd like it.

You yip with approval, wagging your tail.

He smiles knowingly.

"Aww, why'd she like your suggestion?" Marko complains, tossing a pillow at the dark haired boy. He snatches it from the air with a smirk.

You get up and stretch before heading onto the bed behind the curtain. They each watch you, curious as to what you're gonna do.

Scratching at the covers, you bury yourself in them, away from prying eyes. A cracking noise fills the cave as your bones rearrange and your body shifts.

It's been a long time since you've been in your human form, but you love the fresh feeling. Carefully wrapping the blanket around your naked form, you peek out from behind the curtains.

Everyone looks at you, slack jawed. Paul then glances at the joint in his hand in disbelief. "Are you guys seeing it too?"

"Yeah, dude," Marko breathes out in awe. "Venus is a woman. A hot woman."

Dwayne smiles, "Skin-walker."

"What's that?" Marko asks, confused.

"It's a being who can change form," David says, grinning. Apparently, he likes this fascinating turn of events.

"Woah."

You step out completely, still covered by the blanket, "If you're quite done talking about me like I'm not here, would one of you be so kind as to lend me some clothes?"

Marko leaps up, ready to fetch one of his crop-tops. He knows you'd look stunning in his clothes.

Before he has the chance, Dwayne tosses you a large loose shirt. He doesn't really wear his shirts anyways, so he won't miss it.

Marko pouts, but watches dumbly as you drop the blanket without thinking and tug the shirt over your head, letting it slip onto your body.

Paul whistles and David keeps smirking.

"What is your true name?" Dwayne questions, eyes boring into yours.

"I was called Y/n L/n on the day of my birth, although I've had many since. The newest being Venus."

David addresses you, "Why are you here?"

You smile shyly, "I was lonely, so I found a family."

"Family?" David echoes.

"I like her," Paul announces, "I like you."

The smile on your face grows wide as he hugs you.

"Hey! I like her too!" Marko exclaims, not about to be outdone.

You open your arms, inviting him into the hug. He eagerly accepts, and you embrace the two blonds.

Dwayne smiles again and, surprisingly, joins in. David watches from his seat, a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the family."

[lynelovespopculture]

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 17-WITCHES IN A MORTAL WORLD

 AS CORDELIA FEELS HER FRIENDS DIFTING AWAY FROM HER, FAUSTUS MUST DEAL WITH VERY UNWANTED ATTENTION FROM NINA.

 The silence in the car was deafening.  Once or twice, Cordelia felt brave enough to turn her head to look at her father.  Usually, she could gage how her father was feeling just by looking at him, but now his face was just as unreadable as her mother’s usually was.  Still, Cordelia knew she had to say something to defend herself. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong.

“Dad,” Cordelia started. “I had nothing to do with whatever the Warners and that new girl were doing in that bathroom. I swear, I was only there a second before Becky came in.” Becky Mercer was the hallway monitor, who had entered the girls’ room right after Cordelia did. Becky incorrectly assumed that all 5 girls were in on this together, so all 5 girls were hauled off to Mr. Putnam’s office. Unfortunately, Faustus and the new 8th grade teacher, Mrs. Robinson, were already there. Cordelia felt very uncomfortable having her father there as Becky described the scene in the bathroom. When it came time to leave, her friends gave her dirty looks, as if it was her fault. “I swear I had nothing to do with it.”  Cordelia stressed.

“I know.”

“You do?"

“Of course, Cordy,” Faustus turned to his daughter, smiling. “I know you know what real magic is. It’s sure not a painted piece of cardboard made by Parker Brothers.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

Faustus shrugged. “Why should I be? If you say you weren’t involved…”

“I wasn’t.” Cordelia insisted.

“I didn’t know that the triplets were interested in magic.”

“Nor did I. But I suspect that their new friend, Sara, could be  at the heart of it. She claims to be a wiccan.”

“A wiccan!”  Faustus scoffed. “It’s a false word used by mortals to made themselves feel powerful. Besides, all I have read says that real wiccans died out with the age of  the pagans and there  has not been any pagans in Greendale since before you  were born, Cordelia.”

Cordelia knew that it was time to change the subject. “So, why were you in Mr. Putnam’s office anyway?”

“Well, while your friends were trying to start the 2nd fire of the day, Theo was dealing with the first one. You see since both the 8th grade classroom and the library  are  burned and therefore will  be unusable for several  months, Mrs. Robinson and her class have nowhere to go and since our  class happens to the smallest one this year-“

“They’re going to move the 8th  grade in with  us.”  Cordelia finished.

“Yes.”  Faustus confirmed.

“Do we even have that kind of room to share?”

“We should, once we move some desks and things around. What I can’t tell you is how they expect 2 teachers to run 1 classroom.”

Cordelia didn’t know either, so she just shrugged and looked out the window.  They were passing city hall when she saw a happy  brunette couple on the front steps. Cordelia thought she knew the woman, but she couldn’t quite place her.

 “There, that should do it!” It was Friday afternoon and Faustus and Nina were finish moving the last desk. They had been working afterschool all week to rearrange the room. 8 graders on 1 side, 7 on the other.

“Now you can all move in Monday.” Faustus smiled.

“Great! After bunking down in the cafeteria all week, it will be nice to enjoy lunch again, not have to rush to dismiss  my class early for it every single  day.”

They both laughed then Nina came closer.  “Seriously, Mr. Spellman, I’m really grateful to you for taking me in.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.”

“No, I mean it. If I can do anything, and I do mean anything, to thank you, just ask.”

Faustus’s smile remained on his face right up until Nina goosed him.

  “What?!  Oh no, Faustus, she didn’t do that.” Zelda giggled.

It was late that night, Faustus and Zelda were alone in their bedroom.  Faustus was telling his wife about his day.

“Oh yes, she did!” Faustus insisted. “And I didn’t misread or misunderstand the situation. That foolish woman walked straight up and goosed me! She willingly and knowingly grabbed my left buttocks with her hand and squeezed, hard.  So hard that I think she left a mark.”

Zelda burst out laughing. Faustus felt annoyed. Zelda was the only woman he had ever been faithful to.  Hecate knows that he had no plan or desire to change that, ever! Still, was it so wrong to want the woman he loved to be a tiny bit jealous? That he would comfort her and calm her fears by telling her, truthfully, that he immediately stepped, (okay, more like jumped), several steps away from Nina and told her that he was flattered but very happily married. Was that too much to ask? Faustus supposed it was as Zelda continued to laugh.

“I’m glad this amuses you, dearest. I know that I’m pushing 400, Zelda Spellman, but I thought that another woman being attracted me isn’t that humorous.”

“It isn’t humorous at all.” Zelda was instantly serious.  “I wasn’t laughing at that. You’re a very handsome man, darling. No, I was laughing at the irony.”

Faustus was completely lost. “What irony?”

“Her name.”

“Nina?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, Faustus. Mrs.  Robinson. A woman name Mrs. Robinson made a pass at you! Have you never seen the movie, the Graduate? All that’s missing is for that woman put her leg on a chair and the camera to pan under her leg.”

Now, Faustus was the one laughing.

Zelda smiled. “Remember, dear heart, sexual harassment goes both ways.”

“I’ll remember that. In that meanwhile, I have a question for you,” Faustus leaned forward and tucked some fingers into the knot of Zelda’s bathroom and gently pulled his wife into his arms. “Will you seduce me, Mrs. Spellman?”

“I thought you would never ask.” Zelda smiled and kissed him.

 Ever since they were 7 years old, Erin, Emily, Erica and Cordelia had a deal with their parents. As long as they kept their grades up, the girls were allowed to have sleepovers once a month. They took turns at each   other’s houses. That 1st Saturday after the start of 7th grade, it was Cordelia’s turn to host the triplets and she was excited about it. True, she saw her friends all the time in class and hung out with them outside of school quite often. But something was off this week, namely…Sara. It wasn’t that Cordelia didn’t like Sara, the girl had done nothing to her. It was just that she had known Warners a long time and knew that the sisters had loud, different personalities.  So, why were they seemingly turning into Sara’s yes men? Cordelia tried to bring the subject up to the triplets but they all stared at her like she was crazy. It was like Sara was voted president of a club, a club that Cordelia wasn’t even sure that she belonged to. Of course, they would play with other kids sometimes but the sleepovers were always just for the 4 of them and that’s why Cordelia was so excited for it. That’s why her heart sank when she heard Mr. Warner’s car pulled up and Cordelia saw at the window that the sisters had brought Sara with them.  Still, Cordelia knew it would be rude to turn Sara away so Cordelia swallowed her disappointment and welcomed all of her guests. The girls usually bunkered down in Cordelia’s room but 5 girls didn’t fit, so they made themselves comfortable in the living room. 3 hours into the sleepover, Sara turned to Erica.

“So, are you going to ask her or what?”

Cordelia immediately felt ill at ease. “Ask me what?”

“Cord, you know those old books you have in your attic?” Erica started slowly. “We were wondering if we could go take a look at them.”

“You mean, my cousin Ambrose’s collection?” Cordelia asked, knowing full well that’s exactly what they meant. “Why would you guys want to look at that?”

“To see if Sara could find a spell in one!” Erin said excitedly.

Of course. Cordelia forced herself not to roll her eyes. After never talking about it ever before, the triplets talked about nothing but magic all week long. The only difference between this week and any other, as far as Cordelia knew, was Sara. Still, Cordelia knew she better play it cool.

“You guys don’t want to go up there. It’s nothing but dusty 1st editions of Charles Dickens and Jane Austin.”

“And you’re sure you can account for all the books up there?”

It was comments like that made Cordelia think that Sara was annoying.

“Trust me guys, if I would come across something as cool as a spell book, I would share it with you.”

The triplets agreed and the subject was dropped, or so Cordelia thought. In the middle of the night, Sara woke up the triplets and said that she found books to look over right there in the living room.

“Should we wake up Cordelia?” Emily asked in a whisper.

“No,” Sara whispered back. “She’s only try to stop us or slow us down.”

They all took an armful of books and went into the hallway, leaving Cordelia in a deep sleep on the sofa.

 1 hour later, the triplets were ready to give up.

“There’s nothing here.” Whined Erin.

“Hey, I think I found something!” Declared Erica, but her smile faded quickly. “Never mind, these words aren’t in English.”

Sara took the book from Erica and immediately started to chant words that the triplets could not understand, leaving the sisters to stare at each other. Soon, a fog of green smoke rose up out of the book.  It floated away to the left and into the Spellman dinning room.  By the time the girls had turned the corner, the smoke had turned into a 7-foot green monster. Erin gasped and Erica rushed to cover her sister’s mouth. Only…she wasn’t fast enough for the noise caught the monster’s attention.

“I have been awakened.” The monster boomed at them. “Once I dispatch with you 4, no one can stop me from spreading my brilliant fear.”

“Boy, did you pick the wrong house.”

The monster turned toward the new voice and then the girls saw who was in the doorway.

“Mr. Spellman?”

“Warlock!”  The monster’s growl was so loud that it woke up the 3 people in the house who were still sleeping. Zelda came out of her room and met Jake in the hallway.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”  He answered.  

Meanwhile, in the living room, Cordelia opened her eyes, pushed herself up by her elbow and saw by the dying firelight that all the sleeping bags, 2 on the floor, 1 on a chair and 1 on the sofa across from her, were empty. “Um…guys?!”

After getting up, Cordelia was met at the door by her mother and brother.

“Cordy, what’s happening?”

“Don’t know, Mom, but my friends are gone.”  Cordelia saw the books in the hall and brushed by her brother. “Oh no! I told them not to go upstairs and sort through Ambrose’s collection.”

“They can’t! They might find a spell book!”

Little sister gave big brother a dirty look. “Jeez, you think so?”

Another noise came and Zelda ran into the other room. Cordelia was right behind her and Jake stayed behind just long to pick up the only book that was still opened. They stopped right behind the girls and Sarah. They also beheld the monster with their only eyes. After Jake shook off the shock, he turned the page in the book he held and spoke a sentence.  Instantly, the monster howled in pain and then it disappeared. As it did, green goo spat out of the monster’s mouth and landed on Faustus’s face.

Zelda watched her husband as his lip quivered and she came closer. “Darling, are you alright?”

“Please, don’t leave me, Zelda.”

“Leave you?”

“I know you can have Mambo Marie or anyone in the realms that you desire. But no one can love you like I do. Hecate, I love you so much, Zelda! Please don’t leave me, dearest, please!” Now openly sobbing, Faustus sank to his knees and clung to Zelda’s nightgown.

Unsure what was happening and not sure what to do about her husband, Zelda sighed and looked back at the children. “Cordelia, take your friends back to bed. Jake, perhaps you can fetch the girls some hot coco to calm them down.”

“Calm down?!” Erin shrieked. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that the R rated version of Shrek just came and went? What was that? Why is Mr. Spellman now crying?”

Erin had a million more question as a fuming Cordelia gathered her friends and led them back into the living room. “I thought I told you not to go to the attic and look for books.” Cordelia’s tone was very much like a disappointed parent.

“We didn’t,” Sara shook her head. “All the books we found, came from that cabinet.”

But I locked that up myself before you got here. Cordelia thought silently. For the 10 minutes, Cordelia tried and failed to come up with an explanation for what had happened.  She was so grateful when Jake came in with the hot coco. Emily remarked how yummy the cinnamon was. Cordelia’s mug didn’t have any for she knew that the cinnamon was laced with aunt Hilda’s kitchen magic, designed to make her mortal friends forget the events of this night.

  The next morning, Faustus woke up   with a splitting headache.

“Darling, you’re alright!” Zelda rushed to his side. “How are you feeling?”

Faustus groaned. “Did anyone get the plate of that truck?”

Zelda smiled. “There was no truck. Turns out that our friend, the not-so-jolly green giant is a demon. A fear demon, to be exact.”

“But why did I get hysterical last night and then I remember…nothing else?”

“Well, you were crying so hard that Jake and I couldn’t even think so we put you under a sleeping spell and put you to bed for the night. As Cordelia tended to her friends, Jake and I were able to study that spell book and that’s how we discovered it was a fear demon.”

“But why did I cry at all?” Faustus asked.

“It’s the fear demon’s green goo.  Once the goo made contact with your skin, it made you believe that your greatest fear had come true. Given, how you asked me not to leave you, does your greatest fear involve me?” Zelda asked gently.

Faustus sighed. “As a matter of fact, my greatest fear is you realizing what I already know. That you can do so much better than me.”

Zelda clicked her tongue, sat beside Faustus on the bed and took his hand. “Darling, that’s simply not true. I will never leave you, never! Why won’t you believe me when I say I Iove you just as much as you love me?”

“Because I’ve never been that lucky.” He muttered.

“Will I do.” Zelda insisted and kissed him long and deep.

After gently stroking his wife’s cheek, Faustus got up and reached for his robe. “1 final question, dearest, how long should we punish Cordelia for showing off in front of her friends?”

Zelda frowned. “I’m not sure Cordy did this. She seemed just as shocked as Jake and I was and she’s never behaved like this before.”

“If Cordy didn’t do this, then who did?”

Zelda shrugged as Faustus put his arm around her. As they went downstairs and toward the kitchen, Zelda explained how they were able to rid Faustus of the demon’s goo   by using the strongest anti-spell they had. The one Faustus had discovered himself when they first found LJ and she had spelled Cordelia as a baby. In the kitchen, they saw Jake, who was sitting on the kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal.  Ambrose and Prudence were at the table, studying a book.  The sleep over guests were gone but Cordelia, still in her pjs, was pacing back and forth.

“Dad!”  Cordelia ran up to her parents as soon as she saw them. “Are you alright? Are you okay?”

Faustus reached down and tucked a stray red hair behind his daughter’s ear. For the past 12 years, 1 of Faustus’s greatest joys in life had been able to raise and claim Cordelia as his own since the moment she was born. Something fate had cheated him out of with his other 3 children. The fact that she was also Zelda’s child was just extra icing on a very sweet cake. The way she ran up to him, coupled with the heavy concern in her eyes made Faustus feel bad he had accused her of anything. He bent and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m perfectly fine.”

Zelda sat down at the table, addressing Ambrose and Prudence. “What are you 2 doing here so early on a Sunday morning?”

“I called them,” Jake explained. “I know you and I studied the spell a lot last night, Mom, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to call in the expert.” Jake pointed his spoon at Ambrose. “Especially since Cordy still says she’s innocent.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “I am!” Cordelia insisted. “The only thing I’m guilty of last night is of falling asleep.”

“I believe you, Cordelia, and I believe the evidence does too.” Ambrose said calmly.

“You found something?” Zelda asked.

Ambrose nodded. “This just happens to be 1 of the oldest spell book in the whole house. The demon summoning spell would have had to be performed by someone who   could speak perfect Latin.”

“And we all know that my Latin is very far from perfect.” Cordelia cut in.

Prudence was confused. “So, the Warners did this?”

Her little sister shook her head. “No, no, no. Erin, Emily and Erica don’t speak a word of Latin nor do they know any magic. I’ll tell you exactly who did that spell. It was the new girl from school, Sara Reed. It was her.”

“Do you really think so?” Faustus asked his daughter.

“I’m certain of it! The triplets have slept over here hundreds of times and nothing bad ever happened until last night when they brought Sara with them.  Hecate, it was Sara’s idea to go upstairs to haunt for books.”

“Is this Sara girl magical?” Jake asked.

Cordelia crossed her arms. “She’s a self-proclaimed wiccan.”

“But a wiccan isn’t magical, none that we’ve ever seen anyway.” Prudence pointed out.

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know who or what Sara truly is but I know now that my gut instinct was right. I don’t trust her.”

 Cordelia was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. She was still angry on Monday morning when she entered the school and the 1st thing she saw was the triplets and Sara huddled together in front of a poster. After a heavy sigh, Cordelia went to join them.

“Well, ladies, it seems that it’s play season yet again.”  Emily said as her sisters moaned.

“What? Don’t you like plays?” asked Sara.

Cordelia was now near enough to hear her friends and she was happy. She was happy because they were talking about normal stuff confirming that the hot coco had worked. Also she was happy because she knew the problem about the play without having to ask, unless Sara.

“This school does a play 2 times a year, in the fall and in the spring. But the only play they ever put on, year after year is Death of a Salesman.” Emily explained.

“They?” asked Sara.

Well, the play is mostly done by the 7th & 8th graders.” Erin said.

Erica lit up. “That’s us this year, guys. Maybe we could request a change of the play.”

“That a great idea!”

The 4 girls turned to see Cordelia.  The triplets greeted their friend warmly, but as Cordelia noted, Sara did not. The girls had no more time to talk since the bell rang. But Cordelia managed to block Sara’s way.

“I was just wondering how did you learn how to speak Latin?”

Sara shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know a word of Latin.”

No wonder I don’t trust you. Cordelia thought as she watched Sara walk away. You just lied straight to my face.

The school day didn’t get much better. Since this was the 1st day that grades 7 and 8 were sharing a classroom, it was fitting that their 1st assignment was a joint 1. The whole class has 2 weeks to research and write an essay about their family trees. Later that afternoon, it was announced that some of the 7 graders, including Cordelia, would been bumped up to grade 8 English.

“I’m very excited about the first novel we’re going to read.” Mrs. Robinson declared. “It was 1 of my favorite when I was your age. It’s The Witches by Roald Dahl.”

Faustus overheard all this and didn’t have to look up to know that his daughter had cringed.

 “So, what do you think your father will say when you tell him you’re dating a white guy?”

LJ smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think my father will have anything to say about it. Mostly because he’s a white guy himself. I didn’t tell you because, well, it just slipped my mind.  That’ s how unimportant it is to me. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. I just needed another reason to say we’re dating.”

It was a week later and it was lunchtime at the hospital. After 3 weeks of spending every spare moment together, LJ Spellman and Peter Watson are very happy because last night they both decided that they were officially dating.

“My family is very important to me.” LJ told Peter as the 2 doctors sat down with their food trays. “In fact,” LJ reached into her pocket and fished out her wallet. “I always have this with me.” LJ said as she placed the photo in the middle of the table and slid it over to Peter. “See the tall guy with the black hair in the middle there? That’s my father, Faustus.”

 “I had no idea you had such a big family.” Peter said, studying the picture.

 “It’s not that big. It just looks like it because we have the whole gang here.” LJ got up and went closer to Peter to guide him through the picture. “I’m 1 of 4 children. The girl with the platinum hair here,” LJ pointed, “is my older sister, Prudence. The boy next to my father is my twin brother, Jake and this is Cordelia, my baby sister. And this is Zelda, my stepmother-“

Peter frowned. “You have a stepmother? Ug, I’m so sorry. I’ve 2 stepmothers of my own and, well, there a reason why they called evil stepmothers.”

LJ shook her head. “I’m sorry if you had some bad experiences, but it’s not like that for me. Zelda is wonderful, in fact- “LJ sighed, how to explain the insanity cure to a mortal? “Look, I know how insane this will sound, but I swear to you that all of it is true.”

“Okay,” Peter said slowly.

“Jake and I were babies when we were kidnapped by a…would-be cult leader.” LJ continued. “The man was insane and sexiest. He taught us all the wrong values. Thankfully, when we were 16, Jake and I were returned to our father. It wasn’t easy having to relearn almost everything and basically how the real world worked. But our father was there for us every step of the way. So was Zelda. I was so mean to her in the beginning but she refused to give up on me or Jake. Whatever or whenever we needed her, she was there. Even though she had a 5 month old at home and a whole school to run, she was never to busy to help us or hold us, whatever we needed. Zelda wanted to adopt Jake and me right from the start but she waited until we wanted it too.  Our birth mother died in childbirth, so Zelda is the only mom Jake and I have ever known.”

Peter was impressed. “Wow, I’m sorry for my earlier comments. You obviously love Zelda very, very much.”

LJ smiled and then pointed out the other people in the photo. Her Aunt Hilda, Uncle C and cousins, Ambrose and Sabrina.

“They all seem delightful. When can I met them?”

LJ blinked. “You want to meet my family?”

“Yeah, I want to find out for myself if they’re as cool as you” Peter said before kissing her.

  Early the next morning, Faustus was at his desk when Nina came in and without a single word, closed the door and sat in his lap!

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Nina sing songed.

Meanwhile, Faustus could barely be bothered to look up from his work. “No, I’m not.  As I told you before, your makeshift desk is over there” Using his pencil, Faustus pointed to the corner “and if you require a new chair, I suggest you get yourself one.”

“No, it’s not about that. You told me that you were happily married. You lied, Fausty.”

“No, I did not.  And don’t call me Fausty, ever!”

“But you did lie,” Nina insisted. “I asked around and that is how I learned that you are famous or should I say I infamous, for cheating on your wife.”

Faustus made a face. “You asked? Who did you ask?”

“You know, just around town.”

Faustus was furious, standing up and Nora rolled off him and would have crashed to the floor if she hadn’t awkwardly grabbed the desk.

“Where do you get off?” Faustus demanded. “Running around town, asking everyone about my personal business!”

“Look, I’ve respected your marriage up until now- “

“Are you kidding me? In the 3 weeks that we have shared this classroom, all you ever do is come on to me, shamelessly flirt with me, use any excuse to bump or brush up against me and talking in double meanings. Often in front of our students, 1 of which is my own daughter!”

“I won’t tell your wife, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Faustus sighed deeply. This was truly like talking to a brick wall. Actually, the brick wall would be more of an upgrade. “I don’t care if you talk to my wife because there’s nothing to tell her.”

Nina shook her head. “That’s not what I heard, and you know the saying, once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“I’m no longer a cheater! I am not that man anymore!” Faustus declared. “And comparing my 1st marriage to my second is as pointless as comparing day and night. Judging from that look on your face, I can tell that you didn’t know that I’ve been married twice, which proves just how little know about me.”

“Then why don’t enlighten me?” Nina came closer.

“Fine!  But because it’s almost class time and I have no desire to tell you my life story so let me give you the cliff notes. I was blackmailed into my 1st marriage.  Since we met less than a month before our wedding, I didn’t even know Constance when we got married and when we did get to know each other, I didn’t like her. Yes, I cheated on her, a lot, because I was so unhappy. I was trapped in a   marriage I never wanted. My faith doesn’t allow for divorce and worse of all, I had to sit by and watch as the only woman I’ve ever love go out with men that were beneath her.  Aside from my twin children, nothing good came out of my marriage with Constance. When she died, I was finally free to marry my Zelda and it was the best thing I ever did.  It’s been 13 years and I still thank all the stars in the sky every day for that woman and the family she gave me. My marriage to Zelda has given me a happiness that I never knew existed. I used to think that you needed power to be happy, not so. As long as I know my children are safe and I get to wake up next to Zelda each morning, I am perfectly content. You see, Zelda is my very best friend as well as the love of my life and I would never do anything to willing hurt her. For I would be completely lost without her.”

Nina crossed her arms. “You told me about yourself. Now, let me tell you about me. Back in New York, I’m considered a legend. Once I’m interested in someone, that’s it. He’s mine. A man has never refused to share my bed.”

“Well, you know the saying, there’s a 1st time for everything.” Faustus returned.

Nina sighed as she unbuttoned half her top, exposing her bra. “Does this give you any ideas?”

“You know, it does.”

Finally! Nina thought as she smiled, closed her eyes and puckered up for a kiss. Only there was no kiss, and Nina could only feel a tiny movement of fabric. She opened her eyes to see Faustus now had his back to her. She looked down to see that he had buttoned her blouse back up. She was going to call out to him when the bell rang and the children flooded in. After attendance, Nina had an announcement.

“As I told you on Monday, your request to do a new play has been approved. After taking your suggestions all week, I’ve decided to go with the Warner girls’ and Ms. Reed’s idea.”

At her desk, Cordelia frowned. She had no idea that they had submitted a play idea, and the triplets used to tell her everything.

“As per their suggestion,” Nina continued. “we will be doing a watered down version of The Crucible by Arthur Miller. For those of you not in the know, this play is about the Salem witch trials.”

That is when Faustus and Cordelia sighed and buried their faces in their hands at the exact same time.

[meta-squash]

Brick Club 1.5.2 “Madeleine”

The very first sentence of this chapter describes Madeleine-Valjean as “good-natured but always seemed preoccupied.” This always sounds to me like he’s constantly thinking about how he acts and what he says, and is always a little worried about being found out. Later on in the chapter the townspeople do murmur a little bit about him being “ignorant and poorly educated” in response to how he reacts to upper society, so I feel like that kind of anxiety isn’t exactly unfounded on Valjean’s part.

“Father Madeleine required the men to be willing, the women to have good morals, and all to be honest.” Interesting set of requirements. Seems interesting to separate who has to be willing to work and who has to have good morals. I feel like this places the onus of “purity” and remaining “good” on the women. The men just have to be willing to go to work. Plus the segregation of the sexes. Again that seems to be Hugo being weird about working class women and not being sure about his stance on the whole thing. It definitely seems to go back to his whole “poverty and coquetry are fatal counselors” thing from 1.3.2. Women can be poor or they can be flirty, but to be both is bad.

Which brings me to the next part of the sentence, “So that women might not lose their modesty.” I just can’t get over how much Valjean’s effort fails here. His intentions are good. But he’s looking at it from the wrong angle. Fantine loses her job, and because of that loses her modesty, not the other way around. Valjean has this whole set up trying to keep women pure and to prevent them from “falling,” and yet it fails spectacularly.

I think Valjean and Fantine are parallels in that they are two different aspects of how someone could only see the good in people. Fantine sees the pretty things and the nice things, and that means she fails to see warning signs or danger and keeps ending up hurt and impoverished and desperate. Valjean sees the potential for bad but chooses to believe that the good will prevail, not truly taking into account the possibility that it won’t, which means that when it actually doesn’t, he’s left feeling guilty or confused or has to sacrifice himself.

“Unemployment and misery were unknown. There was no pocket so dark that it did not contain a little money and no dwelling so poor that it did not contain some joy.” Once again, Hugo contradicts himself with Fantine’s story. I feel like this whole description is sort of from the perspective of the general population of the town. It doesn’t zoom in to the poorest of the poor or the highest of the high society. This is just the point of view of the people, who since the arrival of Father Madeleine, have found themselves more comfortable and in better financial situations.

The absolute irony of Madeleine’s “be honest” is amazing to me. I really love it. A fantastic little idiosyncrasy of Valjean. He’s allowed to be deceptive--he has to be, in order to survive--but he encourages, and maybe even requires, honesty from others. He doesn’t really seem to consider that maybe there are others who need to be dishonest to survive as well. It also seems like a sort of guilty thing. He can’t be honest to the town about who he really is, so because of that, everyone else has to be honest to compensate.

How much does 630,000 francs translate to in today’s money? Again, I wish I had better perspective of just how much money that actually was back then.

Valjean making provisions for 10 more beds for the hospital parallels Bishop Myriel’s actions with the hospital in Digne. This action begins to put Valjean on a similar level of goodness as Myriel. He’s just a little lower, it seems; Myriel gave up his palace for the hospital, while Valjean provides beds to the already existing building.

In fact, Valjean’s use of wealth in Montreuil-sur-Mer is extremely similar to Myriel’s, except for the bank usage. This makes a lot of sense, though. Myriel is from a wealthy family; his complete rejection of all but the smallest amount of money allows him to sacrifice to a certain level of “goodness.” Valjean giving away much of his own money but also saving a lot makes sense because he’s from an extremely poor background, and the fear of being discovered or his income suddenly ceasing is always there. Valjean’s saving of money puts him on a higher level of goodness because he’s best at helping and supporting others when he himself is also stable.

What is a house of refuge? I initially interpreted it as like a homeless shelter or flophouse, but Hapgood calls it an “infant school,” which makes me think orphanage.

Joseph Fouche was part of the Jacobins and a major factor in the dechristianization movement of the Revolution. He committed a lot of atrocities in Lyon in retaliation for Lyon’s rebellion against the Convention. He helped overthrow Robespierre, then became a senator under Napoleon. He became minister of police in Paris in 1899. During the Restoration he was exiled in Saxony. (Sidenote: He ordered the words "Death is an eternal sleep" to be inscribed over the gates to cemeteries, which quite frankly is a badass phrase, I think.)

Basically the jealous local deputy who “shared Fouche’s religious ideas” was an atheist (or agnostic) who essentially converted to christianity for this supposed rivalry, which is why “the poor as well as god” gain from his fear that Valjean might advance further than him.

Valjean gets offered the Legion of Honor and refuses. Hugo received the same award for his writing when he was around 23 (only he accepted it and also would wear the medal on his lapel). I’m not sure if this is Hugo doing a gentle parallel to himself, or writing how he wished his young self would have acted for appearance’s sake.

I really like that Valjean enjoys being called “Father Madeleine” over anything else. It’s really sweet. I also think that a love for and protectiveness of children (not just Cosette) is an aspect of Valjean that isn’t always focused on. He’s the one who secretly paid for the milk his sister’s kids drank, he gives money to all the Savoyards passing through M-sur-M, he gives money to Gavroche, etc. The enjoyment of the “Father Madeleine” name also seems like a feeling of respect and identification more with the working class who call him that than the upper class who call him “Monsieur Madeleine.” Which makes sense.

“Society” claimed him. [...] A thousand advances were made to him, but he refused them all.” Twice now he has refused society. The first time was at Toulon, out of hatred and rage, when he condemned society and humanity and religion. This second one is out of humility. This time I think he truly believes in humanity, but “society” is not necessarily humanity, it’s something closer to self-promotion and bureaucracy. People use society to make connections, to get a foot in the door or climb another rung on the ladder or to gain power over others. Valjean doesn’t want that. He barely wanted the appointment to mayor. Only, his position at this point is a benefit for the town. But to accept invitations into society would be to accept things for his own benefit. So this time he refuses society not out of hatred but for the benefit of others.

Literally all of the townspeople’s assumptions are, in some aspect, true. He was poorly educated (at first), he probably is learning how to behave in society just as he goes, he was something of a brute just after leaving Toulon, he is definitely ambitious both in himself and in his effort to do good, etc etc.

It seems as though Hugo is doing some interesting sort of self-insertion here with Valjean’s mayoral appointment. Valjean being convinced to accept the appointment to the mayoral position sounds like Hugo rewriting his own experience as “mayor” of the 8th arrondissement for just over a week in 1848. I’m technically not at this part of the biography yet, but I skimmed it. To summarize, during the revolution of 1848, Hugo was the most prominent person in his quartier. So during the revolt, he and the mayor and the PM decided to announce a provisional government of a Regency, where the Duchesse d’Orleans would act as head of state. The people were not super happy about the Duchesse d’Orleans being head of state. Another poet, Lamartine, was made one of the 11 members of the provisional government, and he offered Hugo the position of Minister of Education. Hugo refused, so Lamartine instead persuaded him to serve as acting mayor of his arrondissement (which the book says was one of the more active areas of revolt). Apparently most people weren’t too happy about that because he was “aristocratic” and “wasn’t really a republican”; he repaved the streets and had the lamps repaired but also had the barricades removed. But the result was that almost 60,000 people voted for him in the next election despite him not actually being a candidate.

This doesn’t exactly sound like Valjean, but it makes me wonder if this is Hugo rewriting himself as mayor, imagining how he could have been seen by the people.

[heartwoodventures]

Flaming Hearts

It was nearing nightfall by the time Aislinn and Rolanda returned to Camp Drybone. The desert had a way of cooling considerably after the sun went down which made Aislinn all the more thankful for the leather duster she wore. The two women had been assigned to scout out Red Argos’ next ritual site in the crumbling ruins near Highbridge and though they found it just as Momori directed, there was little they could do in the way of disrupting what was already in place. Sigils writ into the stone had been hidden with aetheric wards so well done that Aislinn could barely sense the magicks below them, let alone dispel them. At best, all she could do was take a guess at where each one lay and write an absorption shield over top. It was arcane math done on the fly with no assurances her variables were correct.

But, if Momori’s information held, the ritual itself was going to take place that night. They would be rejoining a contingent of Heartwood and leading them back to the ruins. The group assembled near the aetheryte in twos and threes just as their linkpearls buzzed with a great deal of static. 

“Is everyone gathered at the aetheryte? I have news everyone should hear.” It was Momori. 

Aislinn looked around and counted heads before tapping her pearl. "Most...of us. What news?"

There was a pause, and one could assume Momori was nodding at the linkpearl. “Signal’s good on my end as well. Let’s get right into it then.” the lalafell continued, her voice tinny through the pearl. “Highbridge is no stranger to being besieged. The place is attacked daily by Qiqirn, bandits, and Amalj’aa. Usually, a few passing adventures are all that the local guard needs to fend off such attacks. Tonight....is different. Fire and chaos have broken out on Highbridge. Someone has drenched the place with alcohol and set it ablaze.” she delivered the news without much of a pause or feeling.  “...Think of it as you will. But the Brass Blades squadron originally set to reinforce our attack at the ruin site have been rerouted to deal with the more visible, and pressing threat.”

"...Nothing ever goes smoothly does it?" Jorgund sighed, looking around at the rest of them. 

"Somehow, I doubt it's a coincidence." Aislinn hummed in agreement. 

"Tis not a coincidence at all in my eyes." Haila said, turning to look at the woman. 

Momori laughed on her end. “As smooth as Raubahn’s beard stubble, I’d say. I agree with everyone’s sentiment. The timing of this attack on Highbridge is far too convenient for our pirate friends.”

"So what is the plan now?" N’ana asked. 

“.....It depends. Do you think the Brass Blades capable enough to repel the attack on Highbridge? Or would we go forth with our original plan and disrupt the ritual?” Momori hummed to herself. “If it were up to me, I would press on to the ritual site.”

Haila lowered her head, "Although the humanitarian choice would be to help the Brass Blades... My vote would also be to press on."

Aislinn snorted. She had no love lost for the Blades. "The trouble at Highbridge is what the Blades are paid to handle."

“A choice I can get behind. I believe two of us have already been to the ruins? By their lead, let us make haste," Momori said, and then the static cut off.

Following Aislinn and Rolanda’s careful lead, Heartwood navigated their way to the ruins beneath Highbridge. As they passed, the smell of smoke, even at a distance, was suffocating The sound of guns firing, of steel clashing, could be heard above the fire’s roar. It was only somewhat quieter below as everyone stepped into the ruins.

The ritual site itself was a wide, crumbling courtyard that overlooked a dizzying drop down the cliff-face. From the shadows of the corridor, Heartwood spied a small crowd gathering around the six sigils that had been masked earlier. A skeleton crew of six Seawolves and one hooded fellow, significantly shorter than his escorts, kept their six victims in check. Each of the victims had a bag over their head and a gun to their back. They were being forced into a circle around the mysterious robed figure. A familiar sight to those of the Company’s number who had come too late to the other two rituals, and a prelude to a coming disaster.

Jorgund kept his voice extremely low "Alright...how do you figure we go about this? Gotta decide quickly, though."

"I don't like any of it at all..." Haila muttered, slipping on her goggles for a moment. "How about a quick distraction, pay back what they did with our backup?"

"That's one option, but there's a chance a loud entrance will make one of them panic and shoot their captive. That's preferably avoidable." Jorgund countered. 

Aislinn tilted her head. "Seems they need those people. I bet if they shot one, they'd ruin the whole thing they got set up here. I think the guns are more of a scare tactic for the victims than anything."

"I agree with Aislinn on this one. They have needed the sacrifices for the ritual in the past. Perhaps we can call their bluff.” Rolanda added. 

"A distraction might be good actually, if you can all distract them I can sneak in to grab those that are captive." Nyscera pointed out. 

In the end it was decided that if Haila and Jorgund could stun the pirates from a distance, that would be the best shot they had to retrieve the victims unharmed and to halt the ritual in its tracks.

The hooded figure wasted no time in raising the Helm, and it floated above their head, the crystal bringing light to the dark. A feeling of comforting aether washed over everyone present, and for a moment each of them could swear they could hear the gentle mutterings of a mother spirit, promising paradise and salvation. Time was running out.

To varying degrees, the Company members shook off the soothing voice. Not wasting any more time, Haila climbed to higher ground, setting up into position. The Viera reached for her gun, tampering with a button or two until she was satisfied. "Everyone ready before I start shooting?" she asked into the linkpearl.

For her part, Aislinn wondered why there was any need to do anything at all. They should all just sit down and relax. She was about to do just that when some instinct, sharpened to a ruthless blade’s edge, took a hold of her and shouted she was crazy. One look over the edge of the cliff was enough to drive the voice from her head and the fear of the Twelve back into her. 

"Right. Yes. Ready." she said into the linkpearl.

"Ready" came Jorgund’s whisper. 

"Do it" and Rolanda. 

"We are waiting on you!" N’ana huffed into the pearl. 

Aiming carefully from her spot, Haila focused first at the grunt closest to the hooded figure. Taking a deep breath, she shot at the grunt, followed by two more shots in succession at the other targets. 

Before the first shot, the smallest of the Seawolf escorts tensed. She raised a hand over her victim and the glow of aether leaves her palm. No...could it be? Though ever so faint, she could feel the touch of someone else’s magick above her own ward. Her eyes opened wide and she dashed to the hooded figure at the center, casting a hasty shield around them both. “Kurr!”

Haila’s shot hit the still figure, paralyzing them and bringing them to their knees before the shield could be raised. Her second shot hit as well. The third grunt, with two others brought down, was wise enough to dodge the shot by dashing under cover, leaving their captive behind. However, they didn’t expect fire from above. And Jorgund fired an arrow that hit his target, the stoneshot shattering and knocking the grunt out cold.

Seeing the shield go up, Rolanda did what she always did in these situations, and shot an arrow at it. "Take that you magical jerk!"

The arcanist’s shielding ward holds, though it flickered against the attacks. She huffed, the force of her magic blowing back her robe and hair. “Kurr! We must needs retreat! We cannot afford to lose the Helm!”

Aislinn watched the activity from her hiding place, her attention zeroing in on the small Seawolf who had seemed to be able to detect her magick. That was the arcanist. And, recalling Wyda's words on her last visit to the jail, the highlander used Momori’s device to take a snapshot of the woman.

Suppressing fire down, N'ana charged in at the remaining grunts and with a jumping slash tried to cut one of the men in two.

Quick on the miqo’te’s heels, Aislinn rushed in, using N'ana's charge as a distraction in a bid to get some of the victims down the corridor and out of the way.

The remaining grunts attempted to let loose a covering fire, but one was forced to stay behind stone by Jorgund’s suppressing fire. This left Heartwood dodging the gunshots of one foe, who primarily shot in Aislinn and N’ana’s direction. 

Seeing the gun, Aislinn drastically shifted course, dodging swiftly behind the nearby pillar. With a hasty calculation, she drew her own aetheric shield around herself. Pulling the firearm from her back, she cocked it and checked for the man's position once more.

She needn’t have worried. From the darkness, Nyscera shot forward in a blur and went straight for the man shooting at her company members. Her hand snatched the grunt’s arm and twisted it with a sickening snap of bone. With her other hand she placed it behind the grunts head and sent him down with enough force to collide with the stone below. Once that was taken care of, the Xaela went back to hiding and waited for the next attack.

The threat had been summarily handled. Gun held in a protective stance, Aislinn hurried to the victims and began pulling the hoods from their heads.

"Someone see if they can break that shield! Having the Helm would be nice!" she called out into the chaos as she ushered victims down the ramp to safety. The men and women hugged the wall, the ledge and a fall into the canyon’s depths was just a few steps away. 

Taking advantage of the ongoing commotion, Haila fired another set of shots, all aimed at the mage's shield rather than the rest of the grunts in an attempt to wear it down enough to face against the pair that was left in its protection.

"Nothing I have with my bow could break it without potentially electrocuting you all, which isn't ideal!” Jorgund yelled down to Aislinn. 

"You know what, good call! I appreciate that!" the highlander yelled in reply. One could never be sure, but it was possible the woman’s words had a sardonic bent. 

Rolanda continued loosing arrows at the shield as quickly as she could manage, in an effort to put pressure on the mage.

"I'll keep the one behind cover pinned until you can incapacitate him!" Jorgund offered instead. 

A detail that was swiftly taken care of by Nyscera as she came out of hiding once again. The grunt groaned as they’re dealt with by the Au Ra, an invisible threat to their eyes. The arcanist looks around herself, cursing...and in that moment of distraction, her spell wavered. The onslaught shattered the ward,  leaving her open to N’ana’s blazing sword attack. She made a guttural sound and hit the floor, still breathing, but downed.

The hooded figure hissed and raised a frail, finned hand up. “Shhhorewalker foolsss...You dare raissse your arms against we messengers of the whhhorleater?” He brandished the Helm, channeling its power through himself and releasing it as a powerful torrent of water aether. It crashes down like a tsunami, washing anyone in the courtyward level back with the force akin to the ocean’s mighty waves.

Jorgund and Rolanda could only look on in helpless horror. 

"Shit!" he yelled. 

Rolanda braced herself against the stone pillar as the waves crashed into her comrades. "NO!" she shouted, attempting to get a glimpse of anyone through the deluge.

Haila cursed under her breath, the current would have easily dragged her away, had it not been for the thick pillar she had been hiding behind and she held onto it for dear life.

When the shield fell, Aislinn attempted to raise her weapon but she wasn’t quick enough. The wave knocked off her feet and sent tumbling down the ramp. If not for the victims at the bottom, who scrambled to catch her, she would have gone over the side and disappeared into the canyon below. 

N'ana tried to hold her own against the deluge but fell to her knee and planted her sword to anchor her as the water poured over her. 

Nyscera felt herself get pushed back, grabbing her daggers she stabbed them into the stone to hold herself in place.

Haila, Aislinn, N’ana, Nyscera. It was too much for Jorgund to simply sit and watch. 

"...Well, a good a time to test this as any, I suppose." Jorgund sheathed his bow and drew his sword, taking a breath, and whispering a single word, infused with aether "...justice." At the word, the sword came alight with fire along the blade. He took another breath, focusing his aether into his flesh and bones to toughen himself "...please let this work" Jorgund leapt off the ledge above and plummeted down towards the hooded figure, raised to slash downwards as he reached them.

Jorgund’s sword hit, severing the hooded sahagin’s arm clean off. It flew aside, glowing white blood trailing its arc, before being washed away by the water. Surprisingly, the sahagin turns to Jorgund, giving a wicked and rotting smile to the man. “Ahhhh...thissss one. Thissss one hasss moxie...”

Jorgund grinned at him, already steadying himself from his fall. "You're goddamn right I do."

Nyscera shakily let go of one of her daggers and the Xaela summoned the water that the pirate had used on them to herself. It swirled around her before targeting the hooded figure staring Jorgund down, trapping it in what would be a water prison. "Shoot it!"

Haila jumped into action once more, knowing that would be her cue as she shot at the sahagin, hoping that the stunning properties of her shot would be just as effective on it.

Aislinn was ushered back to her feet by the victims, and breathlessly clambered back up the ramp just in time to see Haila's shot.

The wind picked up, reaching a fever pitch. An invisible force hovered nearby, forcing dust into the air. At this, the one-armed sahagin blinks, and grabbed his downed comrade by the neck. Haila’s shots sink into the sahagin’s face, tearing deep holes that bled white with unnatural blood. “....Ssso you all mussst be our ssstalkerssss...you hhhave done well, thisss time.” His body moved, as if propelled by some external force, ripping legs through the water in a self-destructive manner.

"That doesn't seem good...!" Jorgund yelled, falling back a step. 

Aislinn stared at the sight in bewilderment. "Seven hells?"

"What in the world...." Haila muttered, lowering her gun knowing that more of her shots wouldn't be enough to stop it.

"No you don't!" N’ana lunged forward and swung her blade to strike the creature's head.

The strike sliced the sahagin’s head off, and the body remained, puppeted by invisible strings. It seemed slightly inconvenienced as it bent over to retrieve its own head, forcing the flopping thing back into the stump of a neck it had left.

“...Hhhave this sssmall victory. We concede thessse sssix lambsss...” With the arcanist brutally held by her neck, the sahagin, radiating aether, stepped off the ruins’ ledge. He turned, standing seemingly on nothing but air, and stared back with a dead fish’s eyes, before disappearing into the air with a slam.

Aislinn stared where the Sahagin had just disappeared. "Seven Hells?!" she repeated, just a little bit louder this time.

"...Now I've seen some strange shit. But that's amongst the weirdest..." Jorgund said. 

"We seem to be running into more and more questions each time..." Haila commented, coming out from her hiding spot.

"At least we saved the six..." He said as he lowered his blade. 

Aislinn holstered her firearm and turned to look down the ramp at the victims. "Aye. There is that."

Jorgund sighed and relaxed a bit but suddenly paused. "...wait, did we deal with the one behind cover?"

Nyscera pulled her daggers out of the ground and secured them to her hips again, her glowing orbs looked the group over. At the mention of the hidden target the Xaela's gaze snapped into the direction where the grunt was hidden.

Adrenaline shot back through Rolanda’s already adrenaline-ravaged veins as she noticed the remaining guard. "OHWHATTHEHELL" she hurriedly nocked an arrow.

Following the Xaela’s gaze, Jorgund turned to walk casually behind the cover, holding his still flaming sword up towards him "...you wanna come quietly?"

Aislinn turned quickly to the sight of her companions closing in on the remaining guard like a pack of wolves. "We should hand them over to the Yellow Jackets. Supposedly they're Red Argos, the -real- crew the Maelstrom is looking for." Such a thing could go a long way to securing Wyda’s release. 

"I, personally, don't kill. Not unless absolutely necessary. I don't, however, have an issue if they rot in a cell forever.” Jorgund locked eyes with the remaining man. "Nor do I have an issue with beating the seven hells out of someone."

The Seawolf glared back at Jorgund, and brought a gun to his head. “Till sea swallows all, ye dirty ‘heroes.’” A shot is fired, echoing off the mountain walls...when the ringing stops, the Seawolf is...dead.

"...Twelve above." Jorgund said, his voice quiet. 

Aislinn was anything but. She cursed. Loudly. And vehemently.

That left one paralyzed grunt, and six victims. Very wet, very confused, and very afraid victims.

No longer concerned with the victims, Aislinn strode across the courtyard and secured the last remaining grunt, kicking his weapon off to the side. "Fine. One to turn in to the Yellow Jackets."

"Grab the paralyzed one, let's bring the captives to Heartwood to get them looked over by G'lewra and get a meal in them. We'll get them home once they're no longer in shock." Nyscera said, dishing out orders to her team. 

Aislinn nodded once to Nyscera. "I can get the grunt to Aleport."

The six victims, a mix of hyur and Seawolf, were in varying states of shock. Some simply stood and watched Heartwood with dead eyes. Other rocked back and forth. But they were all well enough to follow the company to wherever they needed to be brought. They were certainly ready to leave this place behind. 

[bookandcover]

A couple years ago, Michelle Obama’s book was recommended to me with glowing praise by a college friend (who reads a lot of the memoir/autobiography genre, and who felt this book stood out). I’ve meant to read it since then, and I was really glad to sit down with it as the March choice for our family’s Anti-Racism Book Club. Michelle Obama has a real nice writing style: direct, specific, and authentic. It maybe sounds unfair to say that I was “pleasantly surprised” by how strong the writing was; this was not because of Michelle herself, but because of the “memoirs by non-writer celebrities” genre where I have generally had low expectations when it comes to literary style and book structure. I really enjoyed the way Michelle writes, though. Her descriptions are specific and vivid. I felt, during the first half of the book, like I was reading a novel. I kept forgetting this energetic and self-aware girl was Michelle Obama. She seemed like a relatable, realistic protagonist in a YA book, growing up in her sharply-observed Chicago neighborhood. Her family stories and her friendships felt so concrete and were so easy to picture through the descriptions and imagery. The narrative always felt natural, well-paced, and engaging.

As Michelle’s narration arrived at the point in time when she appeared more frequently in the public eye, I was able to reconcile her vividly drawn youth with the things I knew about Michelle and the Obamas separate from this book. The blending of both selves/personas was really effective, as Michelle filled in public image outlines with color and heart by sharing the details of life in the White House. Michelle humanizes the places she lives, and her observations of the White House, its traditions and conventions both upheld and pushed against in meaningful ways by the Obama family, made their lives possible for me to imagine. From Michelle’s appreciation of being able to get her own mug from a cabinet without being offered help in her post-Presidency life to her insistence that her daughters make their own beds in the White House, the concreteness of their lives is always present in these pages. I loved getting such personal insights into a part of American public life that we are all aware of (there’s a First Family, there’s a White House), but that normally transcends the practical and specific in our minds.  

I felt, through Michelle’s well-chosen descriptions, the challenging burden of the security that surrounded their family at all times during these years. This was poignantly captured in the scene where Michelle and Barack plan a trip to NYC for dinner and play, only to understand how many people they’ve inconvenience through this small trip, as Manhattan streets are barricaded by their security and Secret Service agents scan and check everyone entering the restaurant after them. Sometimes the smallest details capture the feeling of life in the White House most vividly. I was struck by Michelle’s explanation that she couldn’t step out on the Truman Balcony—the only semi-private outdoor space at the White House—without first alerting the security who would clear the area below the South Lawn of the White House where tourists stopped for photos. Therefore, she knew she’d never use it. Just like going out to dinner and a show in NYC, simple things created such a huge operation and hassle for those around them, that it felt natural and necessary to stop doing them. I thought it was interesting to see that, despite these challenges, the area where the Obamas weren’t willing to limit and to hold back was in the experiences of their children. Michelle was frustrated with the security process when a changed young people’s plan—heading to get ice cream spontaneously—was thwarted for Malia while she waited for an hour for her head of security to arrive from the suburbs. Michelle told the security planners and organizers, “if you’re going to protect a kid, you’ve got to be able to move like a kid,” and the appropriate adjustments were made. Michelle prioritized her children’s rich experiences throughout their years in the White House, taking them to Washington D.C. museums, and skiing at Liberty Mountain, and along on international trips.

This emphasis on the vividness and diversity of her children’s experiences seemed to echo Michelle’s own upbringing, although she didn’t explicitly draw this connection. While, at times, Michelle was frustrated by aspects of her upbringing—embarrassed that her mother hand-sewed her clothes while other teenagers sported trendy outfits, or angry at her equally stubborn great-aunt Robbie over her piano lessons, when Michelle wanted to quickly skip to more advanced pieces rather than grinding over the basics—she overwhelmingly feels the love and care that surrounds her every day. She explains her father’s fortitude and strength; living with multiple sclerosis for decades, he continued to maintain his quality work and support his family, never wanting to focus on his pain or his physical deterioration. Michelle tells a heartbreaking story about a day when her father was too overwhelmed by pain to make it from their house to his car to drive to work and sank down on the doorstep, while Michelle watched him surreptitiously. She decided to give him a few minutes and then offer help, but when she looked back outside he had made it to his truck and gone to work for the whole day.

Michelle also gives huge credit for her positive upbringing and her educational successes to her mother’s care, tracing the impact this had on her education and career trajectory. She explains how when her mother understood that Michelle’s second grade classroom was not a productive environment, with a teacher who did not challenge the students nor show them care, she went to the school to advocate for an advanced placement program that allowed Michelle and other high-performing students to benefit from a more self-directed learning environment, a high-quality teacher, and new schoolwork and projects. Michelle knows that having someone watching over her education, and advocating for her before she could do this for herself, made all the difference. She also speaks about her mother’s creativity and the ways she made Michelle and her older brother Craig’s childhoods rich with experiences. Michelle recalls that she made a chimney and fireplace from painted cardboard one year for Christmas and describes her mother upholding New Year’s Eve traditions filled with board games and specially-prepared food.

The richness of Michelle’s upbringing with her family and community’s warmth, care, and love, in a space that would be stereotypically discounted as poor and getting poorer, reminded me a lot of my own childhood. I grew up in a poor neighborhood in increasingly socio-economically stratified Seattle in the 90’s, but never once felt like I was missing anything with two parents who spent quality time with me every single day. Michelle’s extended family forms a vibrant and lively community in her South Side of Chicago neighborhood, forming a support structure that seems to never leave Michelle wanting for anything, perceiving herself to be loved and valued and encouraged, building her the most solid of life foundations. Even when her parents had so little, they saved and borrowed to send Michelle on a trip with her classmates to Paris because they wanted her to experience the world. Even though Michelle raises her children in a very different socio-economic context, it’s clear that the exact same values guide her and Barack’s parenting. I think Michelle and Barack’s efforts to prioritize their family and their daughters’ upbringing is something that was visible about them during their time in the White House. This focus shone through and their love for each other always seemed so genuine. It was lovely to see that contextualized in Becoming.

More than just Michelle’s upbringing was relatable to me. I found her experiences when she attended Princeton, vaulting suddenly into a different environment than what she’d known, an environment steeped in the specific traditions of an old New England college, to be likewise relatable (yes, what is squash? I’d thought this was just a nickname for the sport, and laughed loudly the first several times I heard it as an incoming freshman). The socio-economic context shift from childhood to college that Michelle experienced was quite similar to my own. Her experiences in her 20s, too, of trying to figure out who she wants to be in a career/work space and how to let go of the “trappings of success” instilled in her by her high-powered education also rang very true for me. Even her love of eating out at the same haunt, her engagement with pop culture, her routine listening to music, her interest in leveraging fashion for social justice impact—these small things were similar to my experiences and preferences, and they made Michelle someone I really wanted to connect with and befriend. I felt these connections within the knowledge that every single experiences of Michelle’s has occurred within the context of race. Even though I felt I related to many of her experiences and thoughts, I can never understand how all of these were shaped by the systematic racism that permeates all facets of life in America. Yet, I think Michelle wants her story to be accessible, relatable not necessarily in similarity but in shared humanity. In connecting with her and identifying with her, many people can find inspiration and encouragement through her journey, as she herself acknowledges. And while I know that the people in America who most need to see this and believe in it—a Black woman from the South Side of Chicago having the experiences and achievements that Michelle has had—I think her empowerment has a broad resonance that inspires striving from within every kind of under-representation, a vote of confidence for every kind of diversity.

Right at the end of the book, Michelle beautifully articulates her faith in change, hope, and this kind of common humanity. As she describes Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical Hamilton, she writes “it told a story about America that allowed the diversity in.” This description made me cry because it is full of hope. America has a long way to go in terms of achieving racial equality. I thought it was interesting to see how heavily Michelle was criticized during the first campaign when her statement “for the first time in my adult life, I am really proud of my country” (followed by “because it feels like hope is making a comeback”) was taken out of context. I think that, today, in the political climate of 2020 that continues into 2021, a lot more direct criticism of America is accepted. Today, there seems to be a much stronger understanding that BIPOC speaking up about race and staying they have never been safe, have never been equal, have never been happy in America is our reality. This language isn’t something that is dismissed or attacked in the same way it was in 2008/2009. Sure, the standards of “accepted language” are probably always different for someone running for political office (although has our recent former President all but obliterated such standards?), but I think there’s a much wider percentage of the American population today who feels that strong criticism of America on the grounds of race is appropriate, and necessary. Setting aside the context of Michelle’s rise to public visibility, I think she independently has incredible hope (not manufactured, not over-done, but realistic, enduring) in America. She ties this hope to the connections she felt when she campaigned in Iowa and didn’t see the working white class voters there as vastly different from herself and her upbringing. She ties this hope to the young people who devoted their lives and time and energy to Obama’s campaign. On her Becoming book tour (I watched the documentary on Netflix this week), she ties this hope to the young women of color who she connects with who are fighting for their education and their opportunities. She ties this hope to her own daughters, growing up strong and independently-minded.

In the final pages of this book, as the next President casts an appalling shadow over the things Michelle and Barack fought for, Michelle chooses to look to the musical Hamilton, as one concrete example of the hope she feels, in spite of setbacks, in spite of the slowness of change. Michelle leaves the White House mentally reviewing for herself the impacts that they had during their time there, the positive changes that they made, from the tiny things to the giant things, and her ability to look at the world this way—while showing how much this is not an easy thing to do, nor a perspective to take for granted—is one of the powerful impacts and truths of this book.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#10)

I throw my dishes in the sink and dig up the smallest sack of flour I can find. Heading back to the cafeteria table, I thunk the bag down to free my hands.

“...” This is still weird, but too late to turn back now.

“Hey, Aidan.”

He was already staring at me, for plenty good reason.

“Yes?”

“Let me see your room key.”

“I can let you in myself if you like?”

“No, just the key, please.”

I hold out my hand.

“...”

He looks between me and the sack a few times before digging through his breast pocket and setting a key on the table.

“Please don’t blow up my room.”

“...” I’d say that’s quite a conclusion to jump to, but hoping I can get fingerprints to prove he’s not a robot or evil twin doesn’t sound much better, actually.

I nod and carefully pick up the key by the edges before scooting along to the hallway. The door shuts quietly behind me.

I look down at the key in my hand.

So. Where am I getting all the prints? The key should have his current set, at least, considering he literally just touched it. It’s the older prints that are tricky. Any of them in his room could have been left recently, so checking there won’t do me much good. 

Somewhere he only would have been earlier, then. So, it’d have to be the first or second floor. Don’t think he’s ever come in my room. And most of the common areas will have so many prints I couldn’t hope to find a particular person’s. So somewhere less popular, but somewhere he’s still been...

“...”

I circle around to the gym and nudge open the door to the electrical room. He messed with fuses in here, took wires, managed stuff to crappily announce that basketball game...

...that Arthur started...

But. There haven’t been any other events to bring people in here, and this stuff hasn’t been used for any murders recently.

God, that shouldn’t have to be a consideration. Anyway.

I go around shuffling flour out of the bag onto the soundboard and blowing it away. A few prints kind of show up, but I don’t feel like I’m using the best method here. Should've brought tape, at least. Whatever. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.

I zip next door to the equipment storage. There should be tape here, but I’m not sure if any of it is clear.

I nearly run straight into someone.

“Sorry!”

At least she sidesteps me with ease.

“Oh, you needn’t worry, worm.”

“It is much more difficult than that to leave a mark on the Holy Assassin.”

“Right...”

I frown at the equipment cart she’s standing in front of.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Perusing the supplies.”

“Of course, most of these are quite lacking as instruments of assassination, but they may yet have some use.”

“As murder weapons?” She’s already thinking about this again? Guess she never stops.

“I would hardly suggest anything so vile as murder.”

But assassination is fine.

“But these could still function for those ‘games’ you mortals so like to occupy your limited time with, yes?”

She picks up a rubbery ball and prods at it experimentally.

“A dodgeball?”

“Ah, yes, that’s what you fools call it. It could work well as minimal training, yes?”

“Considering almost half of us are seriously injured? Don’t think it’d go well.”

“Hmph.”

“Then what are you here for, pray tell?”

“Oh, uh. Just looking around.” 

The last thing I want to do is vent my concerns to Tsunyasha. She probably thinks the current Aidan is a demon or something. Which wouldn’t fare well for him, but... Can’t convince her otherwise if I haven’t convinced myself who he is yet.

I look back to her.

“How do you have no fingerprints again?”

“How? I suggest you not ask questions whose answers you will never understand.”

“So it’s some... holy thing?”

“Yes.”

“Right...”

Don’t think I’m getting anything useful out of her. Don’t think I’m getting any tape out of here, either. It was a long shot.

I say goodbye and retreat to the electrical room. No one suddenly here. That’s always nice.

I wait for Tsunyasha to head out, hunt down some clear tape in the student store, and get back to work. I doubt I’m doing this right, but... if this is all a trick by the young master, I can’t leave these unguarded for long. I’m pretty sure Itsurou’s study hall should have all kinds of books on fingerprints, though... Oh well.

After a series of exciting tape-trying-to-stick-to-itself-and-ruin-everything mishaps, I get the floury prints onto some of the Apex Academy posters where I can see them. Prints from the soundboard on one end and prints from the key on the other. And...

“I feel like I’m missing 80% of the detail on these.”

As far as I can tell, they match up, though. The right overall patterns, arranged appropriately for his left hand. 

“Oh, actually...”

I run the poster to the lab and boot up a microscope. Not sure how much time I waste trying to orient myself to the thing, but at least I can try to get a closer look. Not that it’s easy trying to jump back and forth across the poster. I do think they match, though?

I can always double-check later. Just make sure I hold onto the poster for safekeeping.

I go throw it in my room before remembering Aidan’s without his key still.

“Right. Should probably give that back.”

To the cafeteria. The rest of the not-crowd has switched out by now, but Aidan’s still at the same table. He scoots back a bit as I walk up.

“Miss Kogamino! Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah, thanks. Here you go.”

I slide the key over. He just watches it for a minute.

“Right, I should look into that, too...”

“Hm?”

“Oh, er...”

“You’ll know when it’s ready, don’t worry.”

“...............”

“Well, see you.”

“See you.”

Okay, then. Back to my room for real.

“...........”

Guess I’ll just hang out for a while. Go to bed early, maybe. Can’t see much reason not to. I might not actually sleep, but... Not doing anything else, so I don’t see how it makes a difference.

“.......”

So... That really is Aidan, probably. Somehow. Which means what? Does it make him suspicious? We never saw the votes, so the whole thing could have been rigged easily. The execution could have been fake, the injuries could be fake.

But is that really something he would do? Seems awfully ludicrous, but this whole thing is pretty ludicrous. 

I flop onto my bed with a sigh.

I can investigate all I want, but in the end, I just don’t know what to think anymore.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[mywonuderful]

hey can i get a minghao x idol!reader where fans ship them and he thinks that reader likes wonwoo but they’re just close and asking wonwoo how to get hao’s attention

Sorry for the delayed response 😓 (finals are rolling up so I’ve been prepping for it). 

But aside from that, I’d love to take your request anon! In fact, Wonwoo and Minghao are both my biases (who am I kidding, all 13 of them are my biases) but recently, Minghao has been playing with my feels. I ended up altering it a bit (I’m so sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted) but I hope you enjoy it! I kind of got carried away with it so I hope you don’t mind a longer scenario!

Perfect

Pairing: Minghao x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff (ending) Warning: Insecurities

main masterlist

You and Minghao hosted for a program once. And that one time was able to bring out craziness in the fans where they started shipping you and him together over the interactions and how supposedly you and him share a lot of similarities. Even if you wanted to avoid him (why would you ever though), your group and his was under the same company, debuting around the same time, making it normal for both of your groups to get along well. But since ship broke out, it definitely made it awkward for the two of you as the atmosphere tensed up. You found yourself getting flustered over the smallest things whenever he’s around. As feelings started to secretly form in you, you know that he deserved way much more than what you can offer. How can a perfect man ever fall in love with a idol who doesn’t have just as much fame and attention as him? Thoughts of doubt of criticism fills your mind as you start getting insecure. Not only about your feelings about him, but your whole life.

You group along with many others have been preparing for an upcoming special program. You were in a middle of dance practice when your manager comes in, telling you that you’re wanted in the meeting room. You mind automatically thought if a scandal between you and Minghao breaks out. You slowly made your way, thinking about how to explain the situation when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Did practice finish already?” You turn around and saw Minghao softly smiling as he tilted his head. You melted at his expression.

“Not yet... My manager told me to go to the meeting room.” You explained as you saw Minghao’s eyes slightly widen

“What a coincidence.” He lightly chuckles as you mentally prepared yourself for scolding.

“Oh, Minghao and Y/N! You both seemed to come in together.” A staff welcomes you as you smiled and took a seat beside Minghao where the staff started introducing themselves as coordinators for the upcoming special musical program.

“Now, we’ve recently send out a poll asking what collaboration fans wanted the most. And when we got the results, it seems like the fans wanted a collaboration with the both of your groups!” The staff showed us the results as you took a look  and was shocked about how many votes you got.

“Why did you only call for us then?” You asked curiously as the staffs exchanged some nervous looks and shuffles with some paper. You felt yourself getting embarrassed on asking such question.

“Well... Here’s the thing....” One of the staff started off making you lean in, more curious about what she has to say next. “...They wanted a collaboration between the two of you.” Your eyes widen and looked over to Minghao as he made the same expression

“We understand how busier the two of you are with the performance that’s less than a month. Which is why we came to confirm and ask if the both of you would like to do a surprise collaboration. Not even your members will know about this.” They waited eagerly for your reply as you slowly turn your head to see what he says. He looks over to you as you look into his soft eyes before he gave a small nod as you did the same without even knowing as if you were hypnotized and he smiled back.

“We’d love to.” He replied as you blinked a few times before realizing that you agreed. Your mouth slowly opened as the staff started laughing

“Are you okay, Y/N? You seem a little shocked.” You saw Minghao turning to look at you as you quickly covered your mouth, shaking your head.

“We know it’s very last minute but thank you very much! The fans and us will be excited for your perform. We’ll let you know how the rehearsals in the near future.” You and Minghao bowed as you left the room, heading back to practice as your mind replays and registered what just happened.

“If you weren’t comfortable if it, you could’ve said so.” Minghao leans over to check your face as you look up into his eyes, quickly looking away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“No no! That’s not it. I’m just shocked about the results.” You smiled as it falls silent next, knowing that either of you want to bring up the ship.

“Are you heading back to practice?” He breaks the silence

“Yeah, but I think they left back to their dorms already so I’m going to get my things.”

“Wait, my members left already as well. Since we’re together, we don’t we start preparing for the performance? Might as well make use of all the time we have.” He suggested as you nodded. He told you that he’ll come over to you as he gather his things next door. The both of you went through lists of music but still had no idea on what to use. As time past, you slowly felt yourself getting more comfortable around him as the two of you started joking around.

“I was think maybe we should do something different aside from dancing. Since that’s our major.” You thought out loud as Minghao nods

“That’s a wonderful idea! Like maybe singing instead?” You started looking for some ballad music when Minghao moved closer to you, as your arms rubbed against each other.

“We should totally do this song!” He cheerfully smiles as the music video starts playing. Your mind flashes back as you remembered listening to this song whenever you felt insecure or stress over yourself and couldn’t rant it out. You felt tears slowly forming but quickly blinked it away.

“Yeah... It’s a nice song.” You replied with a soft smiled and Minghao happily nodded, giving you a high-five as you raised your hand and felt his soft skin.

“The fans will love it! This song will be so touching for them!” Minghao starts going on about how touched the fans will be as your mind starts to worry if you can carry out the performance well enough. The next few days, you were able to practice with Minghao without having your members suspect too many from you. You only remember almost slipping the collaboration to Wonwoo, your best friend from Seventeen but luckily he didn’t think much of it.

****

“Y/N, aren’t you hot dancing in such thick layers?” Minghao asks in the middle of practice as the both of you decided to take a water break. You were wearing long pants and a thick hoodie in the middle of the summer but you weren’t confident in your skin, making your cover up regardless of how hot it may be.

“Nope, I’m fine.” You gave him a reassured smile as you saw worry in his eyes. You sweating to the core but you fought through it as best as possible. Luckily the performance didn’t have much dancing as it was more vocal. You and Minghao was going through the last practice of the day when your phone started ringing. Minghao walked over to stop the music and glanced over at your phone as the caller showed ‘Wonwoo.’ You quickly ran over, grabbing the phone and answered the call.

“Hello? No. What do you mean? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Uh, I don’t know. Wonwoo, for the last time, I am not taking the blame if you walk back to the dorm with a kitten. I’m busy. Bye.” You hung up and glanced over your shoulder, catching Minghao looking at you with a small pout for he turns around scratching the back of his neck as if nothing happened.

“Sorry, Wonwoo can be quite annoying sometimes.” you laughed and walked back to him as he silently nods. The rest of practice goes by without much talking as his face lingers in your head.

***

“Oh Hao, you’re back.” Wonwoo says as Minghao enters the dorm. “Where were you?” He starts munching on his snacks as Minghao enters the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

“Just practicing a new dance I choreographed.” He lied as Wonwoo nodded and walked away before turning around

“Did you see Y/N by any chance? She was there too.” He asks as Minghao choked on his water from you name, making Wonwoo step back from his sudden actions.

“U-Uh no. Why’d you ask?” He wipes the side of his mouth as Wonwoo shrugs.

“No reason. I was just wondering. I called her earlie-”

“Do you like her?” Minghao blurted out in the middle of his sentence and quickly covered his mouth making Wonwoo widen his eyes, taken back from Minghao. Minghao was known for someone who is rather more reserved and a listener but recently, he’s been acting rather moody every time someone mention your name, especially when he see’s Wonwoo calling you.

“Hao-”

“Sorry hyung. I didn’t mean to cut you off.” Minghao took a seat on the dinning table without looking at him when Wonwoo takes a seat beside him.

“I don’t like her. She’s just someone I hang out with often.” Wonwoo firmly says as Minghao lifts his head, feeling relieved of his answer. “Is something bothering you? You’ve been acting strangely this past days. Especially whenever someone mentions Y/N’s name.” He adds on, voice with concern as Minghao ruffles his hair in frustration.

“I think... I think I fell in love with her...” He muffles in his hands when Wonwoo pats his back.

“It’s been time since you admitted.” Wonwoo chuckles as Minghao looked up, surprised before burying his face into his hands.

“She’s kind of hard to read no? She’s rather reserved with her feelings. But one thing I’ve notice is that she’s been acting.... Different...” Wonwoo thought out loud as Minghao listens carefully asking for more as the two talked about your strange behavior for the rest of the night.

****

It was the day of the performance where many artist came to performance their music. There was still hours before the show, but during this time, you were getting ready with your group’s rehearsal. You saw your costume of what you were wearing and immediately felt insecure with how much skin should, especially in your outfit. You weren't fat nor skinny, instead, you were consider healthy which was what fans loved about how you emphasize a healthy relationship with self and mind. You quietly asked one of your staff if you could change your outfits but she said that they wanted to show off more of your figure, making you panic even more. You practically had to beg for them to switch outfits before they finally agreed, expressing their concerns on why you suddenly want to conceal. Feeling more relieved, you forgot to ask about the outfit you’ll be wearing for the collaboration. Your group will be performing after Seventeen so you waited on the side for them to finish their rehearsal. As they got off, you greeted them as you locked eyes with Minghao, where he gave a small wave and smile.

“Good luck.” he quickly said as you thank him before heading on to rehearsal. After rehearsal you and your members were lounging you waiting room.

“Wasn’y Y/N suppose to wear this?” One of your members asked as they looked at the stage outfits.

“I asked if I could switch.” You quickly answered, not wanting to explain. You and your members were really close to one another. But when it comes with worries, you always put your member’s worries first, ending up with you concealing yours because you didn’t want them to worry.

“But why? This outfit will look absolutely amazing on you! It brings out the amazing figure you have!” They tried convincing you to switch back but you gave them a firm no as they gave up. The members slowly left for lunch break when you got a text message from Minghao saying that the collaboration rehearsal is now. You quickly excused yourself before your members questioned you and left to meet Minghao in another waiting room. He was seating on the couch, looking through his phone when he saw you walk in and his face immediately creeps up into a smile. The special performance with him will be last so that the both of you will have the time to change outfits and that all the artist will be able to watch as well. You got nervous during rehearsal as you felt your voice shake when you sang.

“S-Sorry. Let me try that part again.” You apologized as the staff played the music again.

“You can do it Y/N. Don’t worry.” Minghao whispers as you nodded, trying your best to get rid of the nervousness. After the rehearsal, you and Minghao decided to eat lunch together before getting ready for the performance. Just when you were about to leave, he grabs your wrist, asking you to take a seat on the couch.

“You okay? You seem really nervous today.” He asks as you played with you fingers.

“Yeah. This is my first collaboration and all. I’m scared I’ll mess up-”

“You won’t!” Minghao turned up and grabbed your shoulder, making your eyes dart up to meet his. “Y/N, you’re such a talented and wonderful person. Someone like you shouldn’t be think thoughts like this. You won’t mess up. You’ll do amazing and I know and promise you will.” He soften his grip around your arm as looked down, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. He gentle lifts your chin so that you can look into his orbits.

“If you get scared, just look right into my eyes alright? So let’s do well together like we did during rehearsal and make everyone proud, hmm?” He hummed as your felt your cheeks flushed. The both you of walked back into the waiting as you and your members got ready for the show. The group was eagerly waiting to perform as each group finished. Seventeen was performing as your group stood on standby, waiting for them to finish. Your eyes fixed on Minghao as he sang and danced passionately as the fans screamed wildly. You couldn’t help but to smile. After their performance, you got ready as they walked down.

“Good luck!” He yelled over the loud music as you smiled widely at him. Even though it was dark, you were still able to see him blushing, making your heart swell as your walked on stage, putting on your on-stage expression for the fans as they chanted you group name.

Seventeen was settling back in their waiting room as they watched your performance through the TV. Minghao hummed along to your parts as you sang.

“She handles her expression really well doesn’t she?” The boys started complimenting on how well you looked on stage along with your members. After your song ended, Minghao switched out of his stage outfit and told his members that he wants to get some fresh air and that he’ll be back for the ending ment (which was a lie). He got dressed in the other dressing room and waited for you as his conversation with Wonwoo the other night replays in his mind.

-Flashback-

“She told me once that she wasn’t confident in yourself. Especially her looks and body.” Wonwoo expressed to Minghao“She has been wearing a lot of layers...” Minghao thought out loud“You’ve noticed?” Wonwoo questioned Minghao bites his tongue, regretting mentioning it.“I see her sometimes.” He quickly ansnwers“Y/N is normally really cheerful and motivated by recently, she’s really been concealing herself as a whole.” Minghao starts to wonder about what could be and remembered the fans shipping him and you together. “She’s been doubting herself which really isn’t like her.” Wonwoo adds on. ‘That must be it.’ he thought to himself. That night Minghao thought of ways of making you feel more confident and better as he tossed and turn, figuring out how to make you feel content again. Then, an ideas comes to his mind. A brave one.

-End-

You changed out of your stage outfits and told your members that you’re going to take a walk and will be back for the ending when you hurried to the other waiting room as the ending performance approaches. You quickly walked in to see Minghao already dressed into his outfit. He wore a elegant suit and seeing him sit all classy on the couch almost made your heart jump out of your chest.

“Does it look weird?” he looks at his suit as you snapped back into reality, cheeks turning red as you furiously shook your head. He stood up and smiled as he said that he’ll wait near the stage area to get his mic check as you got dress. As he left, you felt your palms starting to sweat as you waiting for the staff to bring your outfit, praying it won’t be too revealing. As they brought in the outfit, it was a beautiful, long, flowy dress that complimented Minghao’s suit. Your mind started blanking out when they staff helped you get dressed as they all threw endless compliments on how well it suited you. It was too late for you to change out of the dress as you were escorted backstage. You stood on the opposite side of the stage as Minghao sings first before you enter on the other side. You heard the artists and groups gathering around the front of the stage as they all waited for what was the ending ment. Goosebump starts to form on your skin as you got the cold sweat, making you rub you shoulder to keep you warm from such revealing dress. As the lights dimmed down, you hear people whispering about what was going on before music started playing, as Minghao stepped up on stage, singing the lyrics beautifully as everyone started cheering loudly. You were amazed and taken back from his voice that you almost forgot it was your turn to walk up when a staff reminded you. Your whole body started to shake as you tried to steady your hand holding mic as you took deep breaths and closed your eyes before stepping on stage.

“Well, I found a man stronger than anyone I know. He shares my dreams, I hope that someday we'll share a home.” you stepped on stage as the crowd goes wild. You looked right into Minghao’s eyes as stepped back, blown away from how beautiful you looked as his face blushed along with yours. Just like in rehearsal, you and Minghao stood side by side and sang beautifully as you saw your members in complete shocked as well as Seventeen, letting out a smile.

“Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, while listenin' to our favorite song.” your voices harmonized as you looked into the crowd

“Now I know I have met an angel in person” You sang when you felt Minghao pull your arm as you turned to looked at him, surprised since this wasn’t what you practice. He looks at you fondly and smiles.  

“And she looks perfect. No, I don't deserve this,” He sang as his hand reached for a piece of hair and placed it behind your ear, eyes glued to yours, as everyone screamed. Tears started blurring your vision as they fell down on your face. Minghao gently wipes the ears of his face as he smiles

“You look perfect tonight” The both of you sang as you choked on your tears. The audience all started screaming as the lights dimmed down and curtains closed but neither did you or him moved. Tears continued to roll down your face as Minghao sweetly smiled, shutting off both your mics before speaking.

“I hope you realize how beautiful you look. Not just today. But every single day. Don’t think so lowly of yourself. The beauty you hold is skin deep that no one else has.” He whispers as you felt a hand travel around your waist, pulling you in as his lips kisses yours. You arms wrapped around his neck as tears fell. He parted and rested his forehead against yours, shooting his soft and charming smile as always.

“You’re perfect to me.”

[cantfoolajoker]

the investigation team as dnd classes

after sees and the thieves, we’re here now for the final part of this dumb series. thank god the i-team has the smallest cast size so this isn’t as lengthy as the other two, but it’s still going under the read more for reading sake. enjoy!

lets start off with our main lad souji/yu who i vote is a knowledge domain cleric. alternatively, could also be a tempest cleric if you want more zappy zappy, but i’m focusing on his pursuit of knowledge here. as the name implies, these clerics worship gods of knowledge and their temples are typically libraries. they get things such as read thoughts (using their channel divinity to read the thoughts of creatures at a surface level if they fail a saving throw) and visions of the past, which lets them see what happened in the past to a specific item or area. their domain spell list also includes speak with the dead (yikes) and scrying (so he can talk to nanako whenever :) ).

yosuke is 100% a drunken master monk and here’s why: drunken master monks fighting style is entirely based around being agile and essentially moving as if you had the unsteady feet of someone drunk, making yourself light and able to effectively dodge moves while making your opponent undermine you. while yosuke isn’t That ahead of the game in terms of how he tries to portray himself, his actual fighting style of being very acrobatic and airy fits into drunken master nicely especially considering the hit and run tactic the class utilizes. also, since we all now know yosuke is the fastest character in the p4 arena games, here’s some extra tidbit info: monks get extra movement speed every few levels and if you were to make him a wood elf, he’d have the highest speed of anyone, including a certain warforged monk. have fun with that.

so this may be a bit of a controversial take but chie as way of long death monk because of how much she wants to protect other people. their fighting style focuses on understanding how death functions and essentially ensuring they are able to accurately take down opponents by examining the different aspects and fundamentals of death. they can expand ki points to avoid death with “mastery of death” and can frighten enemies with “hour of reaping” due to their skill set. also, they get the main staple of monks which is a normal hit die for using an unarmed strike, so chie can kick as much as she wants.

i feel like yukiko is an evocation wizard since she is both a magic user and also like does put in some dps, as well as it makes sense her highest stat would be intelligence. school of evocation as a subclass is basically the dps subclass for wizard that focuses on blasting spells of most elemental affiliations but it is very commonly associated with fire since that is the most explosive (and also fireball is a very fun spell). you also get the sculpt spells feature which allows you to redirect your spells mid casting them which no other wizard subclass can do, and potent cantrip, which basically forces the enemy to take half the damage of the cantrip even if it succeeded on the saving throw. also yukiko Would threaten to hit people with her giant magic tome she keeps her spells in, don’t lie to me.

kanji’s a paladin because he’s a tanky boy and i felt that giving him barbarian would be a cop out. oath of ancients paladin i feel is the best fit for him since they’re first and foremost considered one of the oldest subclasses as they date around to druids, their essential full class cousin, who are considered ancient divine magic, and this fits as a reminder that kanji comes from an equally traditional family. their tenets essentially stand for protecting the inherent light and creativity of the world rather than a sense of morality; they uphold art and song and the general beauty of life, meaning kanji’s sewing also takes a very important role as they typically don their armor with decorations relating to this concept as a reminder that they are protecting light and life. most of their attacks center around a nature theme, and they even get a new form at 20th level due to elder champion that is almost akin to an ancient force of nature. also, they get speak with animals as an oath spell, i feel like that’s the best selling point.

alright rise’s a bard. we all knew that one. i feel like she’s a valor bard especially given her ability to fight in p4au, since valor bards aren’t exactly melee like their swords cousins but they still can pack a punch and assist their dps in combat. they can provide inspiration mid fight and also use their music to heal some hit points. flavor wise, they’re known for singing about heroes to inspire other heroes and can be considered very classic bards, and since those are typically the most popular kinds of bards, it does parallel nicely to her idol status.

teddie’s an eladrin first and foremost, potentially one that’s sort of mixed between all of the seasons to match his primary color self as well as encapsulate on the fact he would essentially be an off color fey adjacent figure like his harmless-yet-potential-to-be-harmful shadow origins in source. because of this, i think leaning into that would be good and druid circle of dreams may be the best fit for him; these druids pull their power from the feywilds and specifically the dream like state it has since generally being in the feywilds feels unreal to most people not naturally originating from it. they invoke the power of both the summer and the gloaming courts in order to act as essentially a poster child for the hopefully peaceful relations between the feywilds and the material plain, and as such they get “walker in dreams” which allows them to plain hop much like teddie can do between the shadow world and the normal world. also, like all druids can do, he can shapeshift into animals, and he can keep being his beary best self.

okay so like, i know gunslingers are a thing, but also naoto strikes me as an inquisitive rogue because they’re basically the actual detective class and subclass combo of dnd. the big take away is they have a very keen eye and basically amp up their insight and perception skills to the max, with unerring eye even allowing them to see through illusions or other magic designed to deceive one’s senses. naoto can Also have a gun still while in this class regardless and even get bonus damage on it if they get sneak attack, which is pretty neat.

bonus: adachi is a gunslinger fighter bc he literally made a model gun have a functional barrel cause he wanted a gun that badly. alternatively, he could be a fiend warlock or even the artillerist artificer bc he almost definitely has the int stat for it.

[tdp-fandom]

Result Discussion: Favorite Ships (part 2)

Results for Favorite Ships · Results for Total Ships · Discussion Part 1 · Discussion Part 3 · Ship list

CW: This discussion contains mentions of three ships which some people might not be comfortable with (sibling incest and adult/teen relationships). Only their shipnames are mentioned - the nature of these relationships is not discussed in any way. 

Some terminology:

I will refer to the Total Ships as TS and Favorite Ships as FS.

The method I decided to use

So here’s a method, which, albeit less intuitive, is still more accurate.

My boyfriend suggested normalizing the ranks, i.e. making the ranks of both lists proportionally equivalent.

This means that there is no need to manually group anything together and it doesn’t matter if we have two lists of 14 vs 40 ranks or 14 vs 40 000 ranks.

This method still has issues of its own:

not as straightforward to interpret;

ships appear to have fallen in rank even though they didn’t (esp. for Janaya and Ruthari).

This is the formula that we used:

where

r_n is normalized rank;

r is the current rank of a given ship;

R is the lowest possible rank of a list.

So, for example, if we normalize Gremaya’s rank in the FS list, it’ll be:

where

5 is Gremaya’s current rank in the FS table;

14 is the lowest possible rank for FS.

Just like with a regular rank, the normalized rank is highest when its numerical value is lowest.

This is what we got:

bigger table, comparing different stats

You can see that the very first place (Rayllum) remains the same for both lists, as well as the very last place (everything ranked 100). My boyfriend also suggested adding a color scale - the darker the color, the higher the ship’s rank.

I also colored some of the ships:

light blue means the relative rank of the ship has not changed;

green means the ship has risen in rank;

white means the ship has dropped in rank;

yellow means the ship has massively dropped in rank (by at least 40 points).

I felt that it was important to point out the very huge falls, because many of them nicely correspond with some of my conclusions from the TS results (I’ll get to that in a sec).

I wouldn’t be myself if I hadn’t made a graph :D

bigger version (interactive)

I think this is the most intuitive visual representation of how different ships changed in rank:

the red dots are the ranks the ships had on the TS list;

the blue dots are the ranks they have on the FS list.

So that means:

red done above blue? - The ship fell in rank;

red dot only - the rank hasn’t changed;

red dot below blue? - The ship climbed up in rank.

Interestingly enough, only two ships actually improved their position!

Ships that haven’t changed rank and those that went up in rank

It is no surprise that Rayllum remained at rank #1 considering how much this ship is loved by the fans. Janaya and Ruthari didn’t move their position either, but the "weight” of their ranks slightly reduced in a smaller list of options.

Virex, Aarathari and Aaravum are the other ships that retained their position, but I think it’s more of a coincidence than something systematic.

Because the FS list is so much shorter than the TS list, most ships appear to have dropped in position, even if they didn’t (such as Janaya and Ruthari). And that makes the two ships that went up even more interesting!

Sordia went up by 17.8 points and Raydium - by 2.5. Both are small ships with not many voters:

Sordia - 10 TS votes, 6 FS votes;

Raydium - 3 TS votes, 2 FS votes,

yet the voters are pretty consistent - the majority of people who voted for these ships in TS chose them as their favorite ships. Sordia is particularly impressive in this regard, seeing how incredibly loyal its shippers are!

Ships which fell in rank the most

I chose the ships that fell by at least 40 points. The list is arranged from the biggest fall to the smallest:

Sabos fell by 84 points

Harrai fell by 76 points

Laidrin fell by 74 points

Grenvus fell by 51 points

Corpeli fell by 48 points

Kaudia fell by 48 points

Kasren fell by 41 points

We can immediately see that the top three ships were in the top 10 on the Total Ships list and they fell the most. It makes sense when you think about why these ships got so high in the first place. In addition to my vague word choice in the original questionnaire, these ships are either canon (Harrai, Laidrin) or include side characters that are not part of any popular ships (Sabos, Corpeli).

Sabos is especially fascinating, as it’s not only a non-canon ship, it’s a ship involving characters that got their names from fans! They do have a scene together that could be seen as “shippy”, which explains why so many people jumped on that wagon as opposed to, say, Sorcos.

The same goes for Corpeli. Gren and Corvus are canonically friends, but they don’t have any significant scenes together, while Corvus literally holds Opeli’s hand.

Speaking of Grenvus (and also - Kaudia and Kasren), they weren’t as high on the Total Ships list as the aforementioned ships, but all of them seem to have fallen from roughly the middle to the bottom of the list. I guess they just don’t have large fanbases.

That’s it for part 2 - stay tuned for part 3!