#realizing that they would act near identically whether they were dating or not dating has endeared krusie to me immensely

[tigergender]

I love krusie but I don't think they would do normal "couple's" stuff even if shipped romantically. Susie chomps Kris's head every day in the lunch room and huffs their apple hair all day during class and brawls them in the hallways and nobody knows they're dating until 6 months in when Toriel makes some remark about "Kris's girlfriend" and everybody loses their shit

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Pulse Point

A/N: Requested by anonymous. Warning for canon-typical violence; minor character death, nightmares, and post-traumatic stress. Also: borrowed Dr. Sweets from the show Bones.

Summary: A near-death experience leaves you with recurrent nightmares. Neal offers some comfort.

Word Count: 5,154

The steady beeping of hospital equipment was driving you insane. It had been hours now of nothing except the monotonous noise of your own heartbeat. If it didn’t shut up soon, you would claw your ears off. With a stiff body and an ache that penetrated down to your bones, you forced your body upright and pinched open the pulse monitor on your right hand.

You let out a relieved sigh as the equipment went silent and dropped yourself back onto the well-padded pillows behind you. The pulse monitor clattered to the floor on its long white cord and you settled down for a nap. The ache in your bones made you feel heavy, like lead. There was nothing quite like a well-deserved nap.

In mere seconds after you had closed your eyes, the equipment started acting up again, this time blaring one long, constant shriek. The surprise made your heart skip a beat, but your eyelids were too heavy to look and see what had happened. Then your heart kept skipping, and your throat tightened. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest burned. It wasn’t a heartbeat; it was a flatline.

You were dying.

The leaden feeling in your body doubled. Your muscles didn’t respond to trying to move and you couldn’t force your lungs to take in a breath. Footsteps pounded around you, incoherent shouts going in one ear and out the other. You were desperate for your paralyzed eyes to open. Was this what you’d have for the rest of your life? Nothing but darkness and unintelligible, mind-numbing noise, punctuated by electrical humming and the pain of a vice clamping itself again to your finger?

The flatline paused for a second. Your ears rang and you thought, for a moment, that you were safe, your heart was beating again. Instead, your stomach twisted and you realized you were losing feeling in your toes. No blood. No life. When the screech of your flatline came back again, it was louder, more piercing. The shrillness reminded you of screaming.

As soon as you remembered it, it was there – the same screaming as before, somewhere in your room, echoing from every corner. In the next pause of the flatline, it turned into a hoarse shriek and a plea. “No! Please!”

You couldn’t hear anything underneath it, no more overlapping voices, and your panic increased. Where were the doctors? Did they think you were gone? Help me!

Your eyes opened with a sudden snap, the droning of your alarm clock replacing the flatlining of the monitor.

As you stared at your ceiling, you panted for breath. Rationally, you knew, you had probably never stopped breathing, but in the panic of your nightmare, it felt like you’d been smothered. Terror powered your desperate gasps and convinced you that your feet and hands were numb, even as you could feel that one foot was poking out from the end of your blanket. After a long moment, you dared to move your arm, ready to scream if you weren’t dreaming after all and still couldn’t move. You turned your alarm off easily.

Soft rain pattered against the glass windows, creating shiny-looking streaks as droplets collected and streamed down the side of the building. It was much more soothing than the silence that usually reigned in Dr. Sweets’ office when he was waiting for you to talk. Maybe he should invest in one of those noise machines with rain as an option. You thought about making the suggestion, but knowing him, he would probably call you out on the procrastination, or deflection, or whatever else he wanted to call it.

You broke the silence. “I’m certain I can wait you out for the next…” You checked the clock. “Twenty-seven minutes.”

Dr. Sweets raised his eyebrows, still leaning his head on a closed fist, propped on the arm of his chair. “I’m equally certain I can recommend you remain on desk duty for the next…” He pretended to check his watch. “Twenty-seven weeks.”

You scowled.

Psychological clearance was a bureau mandate after something traumatic occurred during the course of the job. You’d been lucky enough not to need it up to this point, but after… that, you hadn’t been given a choice. Dr. Sweets was a highly qualified psychotherapist, and you were sure that he did amazing things to help a lot of people, but so far you felt neither amazed nor helped.

“Agent L/N, you went through something incredibly harrowing that you were very close to not walking away from.” The psychologist finally took his head off his fist and put his arm down in his lap. At least he’d taken the bait and you weren’t the one starting the discussion. “You were a half-inch or couple minutes from bleeding out.” He pinched his fingers to demonstrate as if you didn’t have a scar on your body that distance from your femoral artery. You’d never be able to forget what half an inch looked like.

“But I did walk away, and the person who did that to me is in prison for the rest of his life.” You crossed your legs, trying to look more comfortable than you felt. You weren’t sure how effective you were going to be at convincing a therapist that you didn’t need therapy, but it was worth the try.

He looked utterly unconvinced. Actually, the jerk looked like he knew exactly what you were trying for and thought it was cute that you thought you could trick him. “Justice, or even retribution, which it feels like you’re leaning towards, doesn’t erase a wrongdoing or its associated harm.”

“I didn’t erase it, I healed from it. I took medical leave, now I’m back.”

“Physically, you healed. It takes a lot longer to heal mentally from those kinds of wounds.”

“Does it?” You challenged.

“I think your nightmares speak for themselves,” Dr. Sweets said pointedly.

You glared at him, at a loss for a quick comeback. You knew you didn’t look like a million bucks, but you hadn’t thought it was that obvious you were losing sleep. If he knew, then the coworkers who spent a lot of time with you must know, too. Especially Neal – nothing got past him. Oh, that was embarrassing.

The nightmares had been recurring for weeks now. They had started once you had a return date to the office, but after actually resuming your work, they had increased in frequency and intensity. They weren’t identical, but they did all share some similarities: some fatal injury had you dying, alone, in the dark, like you almost had in real life. You never got to the point of actually dying in your dreams, you didn’t think, but you were just fine with that. They were bad enough as they were. Yes, they were a sign of trauma and anxiety. But if your mind didn’t heal itself from weeks safe at home, then you knew returning to normal as fast as possible was probably your best bet at getting over what had happened.

“I’m not your enemy here,” the therapist said to you more gently. You couldn’t say he was heartless, even if you didn’t enjoy the half-hour sessions where he tried to talk about your feelings whether you wanted to or not. “My goal is the same as yours. I want you back at work, safely, able to sleep through a night so you don’t jeopardize yourself or the people around you.”

You let out a deep sigh. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me about the affect this has had on you.” Dr. Sweets encouraged, not for the first time. “You’ve accepted what happened. I can see that. But the next step is processing what it means for you, as an agent, as a person… maybe both.”

You felt helpless. What was that supposed to mean? You couldn’t very well tell him you were terrified your job was going to actually get you killed or cost more lives on your watch. When your employer paid your therapist’s bills, you couldn’t fully trust doctor-patient confidentiality. Maybe it was just paranoia, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk it.

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted. Your tone sounded mournful. In a way, you were mourning for a time when you could sleep through the night and enjoy your days at work. It wasn’t like white-collar crime was your passion, but you did like puzzles, and you did like being around the people you worked with, especially a certain blue-eyed felon. “I keep having nightmares that I’m… injured, and I’m alone.”

“Your wire was jammed and your team didn’t hear you signal for backup.” Dr. Sweets talked slowly, patient and pragmatic as he validated your nightly anxieties. “You expected help, but they didn’t know to come.”

“They did come,” you said with a shrug. “It just… almost wasn’t in time. I know it wasn’t their fault.”

Your words about time felt glued into your ears. Yours had come really close to running out. And for what? Insurance fraud? No amount of money justified murder, and you likewise couldn’t put a price tag on a life. So why were you so eager to leap back into the same job that almost cost you yours?

It was something you had been mulling over since it happened. Your job was dangerous. You had always known that. You’d been shot at, been near explosives… your partner had been abducted by a murderer not that long ago, and your best friend had had guns in his face so often that, honestly, you’d lost count a while ago. Somehow it just hadn’t clicked, you supposed, that you could legitimately die. You were protected by the bureau and your body armor, until that wasn’t enough. Other agents had learned that lesson in a much harder way; being confronted with that was hard to simply get over.

Apparently, your use of the word “fault” led Dr. Sweets to talk to you about guilt and anger around the incident. You didn’t blame your partner or feel angry, except at the man who shot you, but you let him continue around your noncommittal, half-assed answers. You knew he at least suspected you were putting him on again, but you also knew you hadn’t given him much to work with. Then again, he didn’t call you on your bullshit replies, either, so you weren’t quite sure what he thought.

While Dr. Sweets had yet to approve you for field duty, there was still plenty to do at your desk. You pretended not to notice the itch in your legs to go somewhere while you kept yourself busy, preparing documents, performing research, helping delegate and manage case files, and topping off your team’s coffee whenever they got low. You had become even more of a desk jockey than Neal; at least he got to go out with Peter when given the green light. You missed outings with your partner, or really with any other agent.

Comparing yourself to a caged tiger was likely on the dramatic side, so you put it out of your mind and refused to feel sorry for yourself. You understood the protocols and the routines and they were for your benefit as much as the bureau’s. Besides, your team wasn’t treating you like you were fragile or demoted. They leaned on you to help just as much as they ever did, the assignment of duties just went a little differently.

You doodled a cat on your notepad during a meeting. Everyone had great ideas and you tossed in some ways you could contribute when you’d been quiet for a while. Peter’s proposed field op was going to go smoothly. Odds were high that any hiccups could be taken care of by Diana’s swift running of interference. Neal was raring to go and Jones was a little too excited to play the part of an intimidating brute, in your opinion, and Peter was appropriately apprehensive (someone ought to be, after what had happened to you).

“Let’s sleep on it,” Peter decided after looking out the window and seeing how low the sun had sunk. “If we’re all still in agreement in the morning, we’ll set the ball in motion.”

Jones graciously commented, “Good idea. We can all think on it.” He was probably the most cautious of all of you.

“Y/N?” Neal asked. You immediately looked up from your (admittedly lopsided) cat drawing. The forger was still in his chair, even while the others were pulling on their coats and blazers. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have any concerns?”

You shook your head, but not too quickly that it raised suspicion. You could get away with doodling – Peter often turned a blind eye to it; after several years, he’d developed a soft spot for you – but only if you were still paying attention and participating, so you didn’t want to give him a reason to suspect you weren’t.

Peter, Diana, and Jones all said their goodbyes. The two younger agents left the room, but Peter lingered at the doorway.

“Neal, do you want a ride?” He offered.

Neal looked from you to Peter, and then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll find my way. You don’t want to be late for roast,” he added when Peter looked unconvinced. After glancing at you, your partner decided that he really didn’t want to be late for roast and left without another look over his shoulder.

Now that you were alone, Neal softened his expression. “Seriously, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I told you, I’m not worried. We’ve thought of just about everything we can predict.” You said with a straight face, pretending not to know that Neal wasn’t just talking about this specific case anymore.

He wasn’t having it. “Don’t lie to a conman, Y/N,” he chided you with a small, fond smile. “Come on. It’s not just today, you’ve been quiet ever since you came back. It’s not like you.” You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips, uninterested in talking. Neal reached partway across the table for you but stopped there. It was an invitation but not a command. “I’m worried about you.”

The thing about your history with Neal was that it was a close one. You went from strangers when Peter got him out of Sing Sing to best friends within the span of two years. You trusted him more than you trusted just about anyone, and there hadn’t been a time when one of you needed the other and was turned away. He didn’t come to you when he was upset – seeking out reassurance and comfort was not Neal’s strength, because it involved professing vulnerability – but he never turned you away when you came to offer it, either. Now it seemed to be his turn to do the offering, as he had realized over the last few weeks that you weren’t going to ask.

You reached for his hand and silently sighed in relief at how solid and warm it was to the touch, so unlike the few dreams where you screamed and cried for someone to help and found yourself grasping at tricks that weren’t there. Neal turned his hand to hold yours and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s been so hard, Neal,” you told him reluctantly. “I have no idea how you do it. How you just walk away from all the close calls.”

Neal frowned a little. “I don’t just walk away,” he objected. “I have bad nights. I have bad days. Sometimes I have a whole bad week, or a few bad months.” You knew the latter was a reference to losing Kate, and you sympathetically gripped his hand tighter. “But, you know… there’s always something I can find to focus on instead, and after a while, the things go in the past. I let go.”

That advice was entirely unhelpful. “I’ve been trying to let go,” you said sourly. It wasn’t directed at him, exactly, but moreso at your brain, which was failing in its task of moving past what happened. “It’s not working. I can’t sleep. Sometimes I don’t think I can breathe.”

“It’s not easy,” Neal agreed, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. It was an intimately affectionate gesture that comforted and eased the nerves beginning to bubble in your stomach. “Company helps. The reminder that I have backup, even when it doesn’t come right away. I’ve got Peter, Moz. You.” He met your eyes with a small smile and raised your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Company?” You echoed uncertainly. If you were unconscious, how was company going to make a difference to what you dreamed about? Then you remembered what you had said to Dr. Sweets about your nightmares always ending with being alone. If you knew, on some level, that you weren’t alone, maybe you would feel safer. “Like, overnight?”

His expression didn’t change to give away whether you were right or wrong. Instead, he just asked, evenly, “Is that what you need?” The way he looked at you then, without judgment in his eyes, but with determination in the set of his jaw, you just knew that whatever you said you needed, Neal would move a mountain to give it to you.

“I’m not sure, but… maybe?” You hesitantly guessed. If it worked, it would be worth the awkwardness. Even just one night of solid sleep would do wonders for how you felt, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time you had stayed with Neal overnight. Long marathons on slow weekends, and the less pleasant nights after Kate’s death, meant he kept an extra toothbrush and a set of your pajamas in his penthouse.

“Okay,” he said right away with nothing but quiet matter-of-factness. It was so comforting to be proven right that you could rely on him to help you with what you needed. His tone just said, you need this, so we’re doing it, full-stop. You just hoped you were right, both so you could finally go eight hours without fearing for your life and so you weren’t inconveniencing him for no reason. “Let’s get dinner on the way. We don’t have to talk about it,” he quickly said, seeing your face. “Whatever you need.”

Everyone should have a friend like Neal, but everyone should find their own, because this one was all yours. If it weren’t for the table in the way, you would’ve launched yourself at him in a tight hug. As it was, you settled for a squeeze of his hand and a grin as wide as you could muster. “Dinner sounds great.”

The stickiness of your pants along your thigh made your hands shake, unable to bring yourself to look at your palms. You knew what you would see all over them. The fire lancing up your thigh told you what you already knew. So did the weakness in your body and the fog in your mind. It was done. The hourglass on the desk was trickling through the last of its sand. Moretti was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t even die in the presence of a murderer.

There was screaming coming from another room. It was the desperate wail of another agent begging for their life. “No! Please!”

“No,” you mumbled, using all of your energy to turn your head to the doorway. He couldn’t… not now that you were down… you couldn’t even raise your voice to cry for help. You were completely helpless. You couldn’t save him.

Your chest burned with the effort of your heart, ironically helping you to bleed out faster. Your breaths came labored, and then they couldn’t come at all as your vision faded. The dark carpet blurred from a mass of pilled fibers into a solid navy sea. The pain in your leg was excruciating, it was all you could feel; the idea of feeling peace ever again slipping away.

Screaming. Banging. Footsteps. More screaming. Pounding. Shouting. It was all indistinguishable, a mess of men’s voices and loud gunshots. Then, you heard it. Just your name, barely audible above the rest, in a voice that made you strain to see past the blackness.

“Y/N!”

You’d give the rest of your precious seconds away just to see him one last time, just to know he was beside you and you weren’t alone.

“Y/N!”

Footsteps came closer and the pressure on your chest intensified. The blood loss made you dizzy and your body shook.

“Y/N!”

You jolted awake, eyes snapping open in time to see Neal leaning out of the way just in time to avoid your hand flying at his face. You processed slowly that his hands were on your shoulders – had he shaken you? – and it was still dark. You could barely see his face, but his figure was lit from behind by the lamp next to his bed. You could tell from his messy hair that he had been sleeping not long ago, and you felt awful for waking him up.

After cursing, you sat up and gripped the warm blanket on your lap tightly. “I’m sorry,” you said remorsefully, feeling like a fool. Not only hadn’t you been able to sleep through the night, but now you’d ruined his rest, too. You cussed again. “I really hoped being close… just not being at my apartment, alone…”

It had felt like a safe bet off to a good start. You had gotten dinner together near Gramercy Park, then watched a lighthearted movie before turning in for bed. Neal offered to let you take his mattress, but you didn’t want to put him out and you had slept over enough that he didn’t feel like a bad host for letting you insist on the sofa. You’d been out by ten, but now you could guess it had been less than four hours. Your heart was still racing, your leg still tense with an imagined pain.

“It’s okay,” Neal said, sounding unsettled. He kept his hands on your shoulders like he was keeping you grounded on the earth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

Neal’s eyes must have already adjusted to the low light, because his aim was spot-on when he lifted a hand from your shoulder to cup your neck instead. His profile ducked and you felt his lips land on your forehead, checking your temperature, signalling forgiveness, and administering reassurance all at once. He rubbed his thumb across your jaw as he stood up straight, releasing you, and walked away around the couch.

You put your legs down in front of you and rubbed your face, exhausted mentally and physically. Helplessness made you want to cry. Time wasn’t healing. Sleeping pills just made it harder to wake up, letting the nightmares ravage your psyche for longer. Not even the proximity of someone you trusted and adored was enough to let go of the past.

The light in the kitchen came on, bright enough to illuminate the studio but far enough away not to be blinding. Neal came back to the couch holding a bottle of water and offered it to you before sitting down. He looked so adorable, still sleepy and with a bit of pink in the side of his face from sleeping with his arm under his pillow. You scolded yourself for even thinking about how cute he was when you were the one who had woken him up.

You sipped at the water. It was so nice and smooth on your throat. You felt fine, now that you were awake, but the vividness of your nightmares always left you feeling parched and you always expected swallowing to hurt as if you had strep. Neal leaned into the back of the couch and put his arm up along the cushions. You capped the water, bent your knees to pull your feet back up onto the furniture, and let yourself lean into his side. Neal dropped his arm softly on your shoulders, holding you in a tender sideways hug.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again after a couple of minutes. You felt much better, much faster than you usually did, thanks to him, and if you were being fully honest, you were not ready for him to get up and go back to bed, but it wasn’t fair to ask him to stay up cuddling you at god-knows-what-time just because you were a wreck.

“I told you, it’s okay,” Neal said, his voice firm. If you apologized again, you figured he would start scolding you for it, so you let it go.

“I just – I should’ve expected this,” you said with frustration, feeling like you were confessing to knowingly bothering him. “I haven’t been able to sleep well in ages. I keep having these nightmares, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Neal was quiet for a few seconds, making sure you had said all you were inclined to. Then, knowingly, he asked, “This is about the Moretti case, isn’t it?”

“I can’t let it go,” you said with a whimper. “It won’t leave me alone. Every night, it’s a little bit different, but at its core it’s always the same.”

Neal’s voice cutting through the fog of your nightmare had been a saving grace, giving you peace even in your unconscious, but now that you were awake, you realized with clarity that his voice saying your name wasn’t the only voice you could make out. In fact, you always heard the same thing, every night, no matter what else changed.

“What’s the same, Y/N?” Neal asked you, trying to help. He stroked your upper arm with his open hand. You were already shaking your head. Neal could comfort you all he liked, but he couldn’t bring back the dead. In grief and shame, you turned your head and bent your neck to bury your face in his shoulder. Neal tilted his head so his cheek was resting gently on your hair. “Tell me, darling,” he coaxed in a whisper.

You felt like someone’s hands were wrapped around your throat, strangling your reply. “Agent Flynn,” you answered dryly, barely more than mouthing his name. “In every nightmare, I hear… I hear his last words. Begging Moretti not to take the shot.”

Neal was quiet for a long time, but never pushed you away. He held you closer when you started to shake, crying against him as quietly as you could manage. The artist rubbed your arm and periodically kissed your head, but he knew that there was nothing he could say to erase the horror of what you had heard or take away the guilt that you had survived because Moretti was distracted by taking out the other agent.

Moretti was part of a family gang, often in conflict with the Barellis, who, interestingly, paid a little deference to the white-collar division ever since you and Peter had recovered a stolen Book of Hours. The Morettis had no such connection or gratitude, so their response to the FBI sticking their nose into an embezzling scam was violent and bloody. Moretti shot you in the leg and intended to finish you off, but one of his own men had reported you came with someone. He left you to bleed out, and only a few rooms over, you had heard Flynn’s pleas – and the subsequent gunshot. Your team, wising up to the dead signal, arrived for a takedown before Moretti could make his way back to you, but it was too late for your teammate.

Neal shifted after what felt like forever, only to pull you closer to his chest and wrap both arms around you. You trembled in his embrace, but that just made him hold you closer, like you were delicate and breakable. When he next talked, his low voice was quivering, just like your body.

“I thought we lost you,” he said, cupping the back of your head in a gentle hand. He massaged his fingers into your scalp, even as he kept you cuddled in his lap. “I thought I lost you, Y/N. Two gunshots. I thought…” He struggled to find his words and you hiccuped, trying to stop crying. “I was the one who found you, and I was so scared I was too late.”

You sniffled and uncrossed your arms to melt against his chest and hug him tightly around his waist instead. “I didn’t know you…”

“We found him first, but you weren’t there and I needed to find you.” Neal now sounded equal parts frightened and furious. “If he had taken you away, I would’ve…” He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, as desperate to be close to you as you felt to be close to him. “I would’ve shattered. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I just can’t lose you, too.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t die,” you blurted, almost in a sob. You felt so safe with him, but now you knew for a fact that your own safety wasn’t what had been tormenting you. It was a nearly debilitating case of survivor’s guilt. “I just wish I hadn’t been the only one who survived.”

“No one wants that,” Neal promised you, untangling his hand from your hair and stroking it down instead. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this and take it away, but all I can do is be here and hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright. It wasn’t your fault.”

You sniffed. Neal’s words were more of a comfort than you had thought they would be. They changed nothing about the situation, but… you weren’t alone. You hadn’t been alone since you met him. You just agonized that Flynn had been. “Neal, I can’t lose you, either. I love you, you’re… you’re who I’m going to heal for.” You had to find a way.

Neal seized your lips with his in a searing kiss. It wasn’t as sexy or patient as you may have imagined, but you gripped his shirt and gave as good as you got, and wow, the man gave verygood. It was a desperate kiss, needing to bring you together and reaffirm your life. To you, it was the seal of a promise that you wouldn’t let the past crush your spirit. When you could sleep through the night and had a handle on your post-traumatic stress… if he would just be patient, you would be his the way you wanted him to be yours.

He released you to breathe, eyes opening wide as if he only just realized what he had done. Before he could pull away, you pressed your forehead to his again, urging him to stay close. Your breaths mingled between you and you were sure you could feel his heart beating through his chest.

“I love you, too,” he said once he had caught his breath.

[whentherewerebicycles]

wow okay i am skipping the lingerie party lol and am instead going to just briefly jot down some thoughts before i go to sleep and wake up at 5 for my flight tomorrow morning. jesus christ i have ONE MILLION thoughts and feelings about this weekend. i want to preface this by saying that on the whole, it was a fine social experience! it was nowhere near as awkward or painful as i was expecting. or like, parts of it were painful, but it was 100% to do with my own complicated feelings about literally every part of this tradition and the wedding industry in general lol, and not anything to do with the people themselves. the other women were friendly and very welcoming, i made an event best friend who was wonderful company, and it was really fun to get to spend time with both my sister-in-law and her older sister, who was so charming and wonderful. i’m glad i came even though thinking about the $$ i spent on this trip makes me physically gag.

but okay i want to just record some THOUGHTS that maybe i will continue unpacking with some distance. i feel likeeeee okay here are my thoughts.

the social norms around femininity are just a fucking minefield and i feel like i really just gotta keep walking back the impulse to judge other women for the choices they make as they navigate around the manifold traps and snares and half-buried landmines that constitute the landscape of being a woman. like jesus christ. it’s so fucked up, it’s so fucked up, the received and socially enforced norms of femininity are just so fucked up. I think ALL THE FUCKING TIME of this margaret atwood poem i love so much, which was REALLY on my mind this weekend:

How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her?

I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin.

I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.

I feel like the first bit was very much on my mind throughout the weekend, but those last three lines have come to the forefront over the course of this last day, as i have tried to do some Thinking about what i observed/experienced/felt this weekend. whether or not this is what it means in the context of the poem, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it, expresses something of my complex feelings: I don’t know that I can tell the truth about femininity because I don’t know that I can see it. i am both too close to it/still emotionally entangled in it and too far from it to know which parts of it are ‘real’ and which parts are just performance.

i feel like one thing that struck me this weekend, in ways that i don’t know if i’ve noticed as much before, was that so much of the things women say to each other or do in these social contexts is performative, and they know on some level it’s a performance, but we are all going through the motions of doing and saying the expected things anyway. that has not always been clear to me. i have spent so much of my own life as a woman thinking that other women perfectly, seamlessly, naturally embodied the norms of femininity, and i was the only one (or part of a group of only ones) who couldn’t remember my lines, or kept fumbling my cues, or felt so painfully, self-consciously aware that i was playing a role that i could never deliver a convincing performance. but this weekend, after the initial social panic had passed, i started trying to get out of my own head a little bit and look for things that disproved the very strong theory i had brought into the weekend. and of course then i started seeing more and more of the little moments where women say one thing and do another, or profess one belief/conviction but then the whole corpus of their lived experiences and choices contradicts that stated belief, or whatever. and also just like, moments of pathos, where someone i had judged harshly at the beginning of the weekend offhandedly revealed something about her past that really changed my perception of her, or at least made me think like, ah god, i have to have empathy for and with this person, because i think she might be a complex person just like me, with an intricate inner life that her performance partially reveals and partially occludes from view, and agh, it sucks to have to think of people as complicated instead of as safely two-dimensional & easy to dismiss, and the reason it sucks is because then it forces you to realize that you share more with this person than you’d like to admit, and that some of your wounds are the same, even if you dealt with those wounds (the wounds of girlhood, or rather the emotional wounds that our culture inflicts upon girls, which then become tangled up in complex and painful ways with the lived experience of girlhood itself) in really different ways.

but also ugh. we are all performing gender norms but there is just something that does not feel playful at all about embodying conventional femininity. i can’t think of a better way to phrase that right now but it’s like.. the performance isn’t fun. it doesn’t seem to be fun. i don’t know that anyone here was having fun doing it, even if they were having fun being with each other. but it was like doing the intensely gendered social rituals was like, the price of admission? like it was the toll we had to pay to be together spending time in the company of other women? i don’t know man but it fucking exhausts me. like i can push myself to stretch my genuine empathy and sense of solidarity with other women much further than my knee-jerk judgmental reaction, but i can’t ever get to a place where i find any of those social rituals anything other than fucking exhausting. they feel so fucking joyless. they feel like things that many women have internalized as ‘things we must do in order to have relationships with other women.’ (please do not even get me started on how exhausting heteronormativity is i think i could write an entire other essay on how women use these bachelorette party-type rituals to spend time with their closest female friends, but the whole event is still implicitly organized around men, and these women’s male partners are still positioned as the priority in their lives, and the whole event is framed as like, a last burst of intense closeness between women before the bride is delivered over to her husband. like i KNOW that this is not how women think of it but all the RHETORIC of the bachelorette party, the little events and rituals and games, the little comments everyone makes all fucking weekend, good fucking lord, my jaw is so TENSE.)

anyway god i just AGHHHH. idk sorry this is definitely not coherent at ALL because i’m tired and still need a bit more distance/time to process some of this. i guess here is one last thing i want to register before i sleep. i am in my 30s now and i am living a life that is so, so far removed from the social world i grew up in. marriage is not a norm among my friend group, almost all of my female friends are queer women, many women i know are not partnered and have no interest in being partnered, and the friends who are in heterosexual relationships tend to be in very gender-balanced relationships or slightly nontraditional relationships where it feels like both partners have engaged in conscious reflection about what they want their relationship to look/feel like. also i now date women, am out as a lesbian, and spend most of my time teaching/working with queer- and trans/nonbinary-identified kids.

so like, the world i live in now is just so different from the world i grew up in. and sometimes it is easy for me to kind of downplay the intensity of my own gender distress as a teen and young adult, or to sort of - act like it was a phase in my life that had much more to do with me than with the social environment i lived in. i don’t mean ‘phase’ in a dismissive ‘those feelings weren’t real’ kind way, but more like, ‘oh that was just part of the normal growing pains of figuring out who you are and what kind of person you want to be as an adult - everybody pretty much goes through some version of that.’ it’s true that everyone DOES go through some version of that, as just like, part of the process of individuation in that age range. but also like. idk man. being back in this environment - straight white women from the midwest and south, all engaging in the rituals of heterosexual white femininity - was just so intense and so MUCH, and it brought back a flood of feelings and visceral memories that i feel like i will need to spend some time sorting through over the next few weeks. like, what i experienced back then really WAS gender distress, and it was so, so distressing. i spent the years from age 11ish to 24ish existing with this constant lowgrade baseline feeling of wanting to claw my own fucking skin off because my own gendered body felt like such a prison, and i sometimes felt like i literally wanted to destroy my own body because i could not yet conceive of an alternative to inhabiting that body or playing the role that had been handed down to me. until i started reading queer memoirs and inhaling lesbian media and (especially) reading about queer femme identities, i literally did not have an image or any kind of felt sense of what another way of inhabiting my own body might look/feel like. i literally could not imagine it!!!

and that is why the distress feels so distressing, and becomes internalized in such violent ways, i think. because it’s the blind, mindless panic of a trapped and wounded animal. except that you lack any real understanding of the larger social forces at work, or any language with which to describe or conceptualize what social norms are or how they’re enforced. so in your mind, the only thing you can see wounding you is your own gendered body, or the way that gendered body is socially 'read’ by others. and that is why you want to claw your own fucking skin off, just literally dig your nails into your own flesh and claw it the fuck off. because you can’t see a norm, but you can see your gendered body, and you can see the ways that it causes other people to react to you, or treat you, or hold you to a certain set of expectations, and so in your mind you are like: this must be destroyed. in your mind you are like, the only way out is to get out of this fucking body, but that’s impossible, surely, you can’t get out of your own body, so you have to settle for starving it and self-harming it and ruthlessly punishing it in a thousand terrible ways, because you might not be able to leave your girl’s body behind, but you can make it suffer and pay for what it’s done to you. 

i am old enough now, and have spent enough time thinking and writing about those feelings, to identify them when they arise again, and to get the necessary distance from them so that i can say, what i want to destroy are the norms themselves, and the distress they cause, and not the body that has done nothing to me but be me. so i am not quite as sucked under as i used to be. but i think that there is something about the violence and intensity of those feelings that i forget sometimes, or misremember with age and distance. it’s easy to be a little bit patronizing to my younger self (or by extension to my younger students sometimes), because i now live in a social world that is largely arranged in ways that minimize rather than intensify or amplify gender distress. but when you have no choice in how to arrange your life, and no language with which to understand what is happening to you or what you are experiencing, and no frame of reference to help you understand that this is a period in your life and not forever, and no models you can look to in order to discover alternative ways of inhabiting your body or arranging your life... my god, that’s quite different from being an adult with a wide range of experiences and with much greater autonomy over your own body and life. anyway idk i need to keep thinking but now i must go to bed and try to sleep five hours before the plane.

[mieohmy]

𝖨𝗇 𝖺 𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁 | 𝖢𝗁𝗐𝖾 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇

PAIRING: the Flash! chwe vernon x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, friends-to-lovers, superhero! au

WC: 4.4k

NOTES: mentions of violence, trauma, FIRE, injury, nothing major (when Vernon is acting as the Flash, his voice is altered to protect his identity (duh) so that’s why y/n is obviously not able to tell who he is ^^ )

SUMMARY: it started with cookies. that’s all you wanted, really. but you got a bonus with it, except you wouldn’t really call it a bonus- just a... lovely addition that happened to steal your heart in a flash, whether you knew it or not.

  ❧

“Don’t touch that!” you whisper exasperatedly to your little cousin. You were exhausted. How did parents do it? You planned on going to the mall to get some cookies from the best bakery you’ve ever gone to, and your aunt conveniently wanted her kids to see Santa at the mall. So you offered to take them there with you, to give her a break because you knew a four-year-old and a six-year-old were a l o t of work. 

You were waiting in the line for Santa, your little cousins bouncing and messing with the decorations. You stared ahead, counting the number of people in front of you. You sighed. One more kid until I can get my cookies. 

You loved your cousins, really, little Camden and Hana. But the E N E R G Y. You frowned, were you like that when you were young? As soon as you finish that thought, the line moves up, and you’re at the front! Camden looks up at you. “How much longer?” he whines. You smile. “We’re almost there. Just wait a little more, alright?” Hana pouts, and you grab her tiny baby hands and swing them, hoping to cheer her up.

As she giggles, one of the worker elves calls out, “Next!” You look at them with a bright expression, gesturing them forward before being interrupted by a loud CRASH and BOOM. 

You immediately look around, hearing screams and chaos. You’re frozen, until a strange whiz! passes by you, hair blowing back from the speed. You recoil before remembering the kids(!!) and look down. Camden’s near you, ears plugged, and you sigh in relief. Then suddenly, the image of Hana pops into your mind, and you inhale. 

Head whirling, you search the place. You hear more screams, and is that the smell of burning? Where is she???? She wasn’t standing next to you, and you have absolutely no idea where she went. You feel a wave of fear course through you. You bend down to Camden, grabbing his shoulders. You don’t notice your hands shaking. “Listen, Camden. Wait here and do not move. I promise I’ll be back soon ok?” He nods, hands plugging his ears as you leave. You run around the central plaza where Santa was sitting.  

You see flames, hearing the roar and shiver, still frantically scanning the area. People are disappearing, probably escaping as they should be, but you can’t leave Hana. You run around the circle until you hear a familiar whimper. Your eyes zero in on a miniature house that was a part of the Christmas decorations. You squint, and you think you see a little girl’s body huddled inside the house. You hear the roars and crackling growing louder, but you ignore it. 

Running to the house, you crouch and look it through the window holes. Hana’s inside, huddled and whimpering. You’ve never felt such relief run through you before. “Oh god. Hana...” you murmur. She looks up at you, tears at the corners of her eyes. It almost causes you to tear up as well. Voice shaky, you call her name. You feel waves of heat from behind you, but you focus your attention on her. “Hana, please come out. We need to get out of here.” She shakes her head. “I’m scared... it’s really hot in here..” “I know,” you look back, seeing flames surrounding the area, causing your heart to clench. “But you need to get out. Then we’ll be safe, alright?” You slowly open the door to the house and hold out your arms. Hana slowly creeps forward, and you immediately take her into your embrace. 

Turning around, you see the fire encasing you two. Letting out a shaky breath, you just hold Hana tighter, squeezing your eyes shut and thinking, “Is this it? Oh no.. I left Camden alone. What kind of person am I? How-“ You don’t get to finish as you feel a gust of wind and maybe a hand around your waist. 

You open your eyes and suddenly, it’s like you’ve been teleported outside. Glancing down, Hana’s still in your arms, staring at you. Sighing in relief, you bury your face in her hair, letting out muffled thank god’s and we’re safe. 

You hear a noise and look up, mouth opening in surprise. The Flash?! He looks down at you two, eyes widening in shock. He coughs before asking, “Are you two alright?” You can only slowly nod, processing everything. He’s about to leave when you grab his hand. Sucking in a breath, you look him in the eyes. A familiar warmness to them. “I- just, thank you. You have no idea how indebted I am to you.” The Flash nods. “It’s no problem. It’s my duty.” He looks around before mentioning, “Didn’t you have uh- a little boy with you two?” It didn’t dawn on you how he knew, but you were distracted with what he said. 

Shooting up, you immediately think of Camden. Shoot. You spot him with his parents, crying as they comfort him. Once he sees you and Hana coming over, he runs into your embrace. You tightly hug him and Hana, looking back at the Flash with a small smile on your face. He returns the smile before disappearing in a second. 

❧

Your friends rush to hug you, all talking about the “Unexpected explosion at the Westpointe Mall.” You laugh, “I’m fine. It was honestly scary, and I’m a little traumatized, but everyone’s okay.” “Thanks to the Flash,” your friend adds. “I owe my life to him,” you say, eyes sparkling as you imagine him saving you. Your friends let out an ooooh, and you groan before denying anything. You chat with them for a little before receiving a text. 

It’s from Vernon. You quickly tell your friends you have to go, them all teasing you about your ‘date’ (that you dismiss with an eye roll). 

Walking out, you spot him, and he quickly brings you into his arms. You didn’t exactly know what your relationship with him was.  You always denied it, saying the classic, we’re just friends, but anyone could tell you two definitely had something more. 

You inhale, smelling his comforting scent. “I heard about what happened,” he mumbles into your hair. You just nod, enjoying his comforting embrace.

You pull back, and he leads you to his car. Settling inside, Vernon plays some cringy old love songs, and you giggle, the both of you singing along. When you arrive at the cafe, you both order before finding a seat. “So,” Vernon starts. “What, uh, is the whole story?” You swallow before recounting the whole incident. 

“And then the Flash suddenly comes in! I owe everything to him, he saved Hana and me. He was so cool and brave..” You realize you’re rambling before looking back at him. His ears are red, and he’s smiling slightly, you note. “Wow. Well, uh-I guess he seems like a nice guy ?” Vernon replies awkwardly. You raise an eyebrow. “Why are you acting so weird all of a sudden?” He chokes on his drink. “What? ha, whaddya mean?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Then it hits you. Your eyes widen, and you snap your fingers. “I know what it is. You’re-“ Vernon suddenly reaches up and covers your mouth with his hand, you’ve never seen him so panicked before. In the process of doing so, he accidentally knocks your fork, but quickly catches it with his other hand. Your eyebrows raise in shock at his incredibly fast reflexes, then you remove his hand from your mouth. Leaning in, you speak in a hushed voice, “Vernon... it’s okay to be jealous. It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’ve known you for years and only met the Flash once. Of course, I would choose you over him, dummy.” 

Vernon dramatically sinks back into the seat in relief, placing his hand over his face before sitting up and returning to you. “Yeah sure, you’re right. I shouldn’t be jealous..” You laugh and place your hand over his comfortingly, not removing it until you two leave the cafe.

❧

“-crime rates are rising. Be careful when you go out, people! Especially in places with large gatherings! Well, that was your-“ you shut off the TV. It's been getting more dangerous recently, you think. There have been more and more bombing attacks going off, and the Flash has been rescuing the people from all of them. You shiver, remembering the heat. Flames flickering over you. Hana’s cries. Your respect for the superhero grows. You shake your head, getting into bed. 

You didn’t tell anyone so they didn’t worry, but you had been having recurring nightmares after the event at the mall. Sometimes it was just flames burning you or you not being able to save Hana and Camden. But whenever you woke up, there was always a bitter, smoky aftertaste in your mouth. It got really bad sometimes, so you would either watch social media and eventually pass out or stay up the night, unable to fall back asleep. 

Today was unfortunately one of the latter nights. You throw off all the blankets, it was wintertime, but you could only feel the heat. The images flash in your head again. Bright. Loud. Pain. You exhale shakily. Your first instinct is to reach for your phone and call Vernon. 

“y/n??” you hear his raspy voice. Your whole body sweating, you reply in a small voice, “Can you please come over, now?” There’s a pause before he responds, “On my way.”

All you say to him when he arrives is, “I can’t sleep..” and he guides you to your bed, going in after you. He wraps his arms around you, probably already drifting off. It was really hot before, but Vernon’s heat was comforting and tranquil. You slip off before you know it. 

❧

You’re walking to the grocery store when you’re stopped by the sound of police sirens and disorder. Another bombing, you overhear. “There are so many bombings. What’s really going on?” you wonder. Your curiosity gets to the best of you, and you walk over to the commotion. There are police talking to huddled people, obviously traumatized. 

And then you see him. The Flash. He was talking to a policewoman, and you continue to stare at him. He seems so familiar to you, but you can’t place where and when you might've seen him before, excluding the one time he saved you. He must’ve noticed because he says goodbye to the police and walks over to you. 

You’re surprised. You didn’t think a superhero had time to talk to a normal person like you. He stops in front of you. You look up at him curiously, admiring his suit. “So how’re the kids?” You’re confused for a moment, but then you laugh. “They’re fine, I think. Luckily you saved them so hopefully, there are no scars,” unlike me. He smiles. “Where are you going? Uh, just to be safe. Don’t want someone walking at night by themselves.” You allow a small smile to form. “I can take care of myself, but thanks anyway. I’m just going to the mart. Don’t you have other things to do?” He shrugs as you two continue walking down the street. “Not unless there’s another bombing.” 

When you arrive at the front of the mart, the Flash awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. You glance at him, confused. “I, um, shouldn’t go inside there, you know. My suit and all.” You laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? The suit? I would expect the fan girls rushing to take a picture with you, but don’t worry, I won't ask, mr. superhero.” He grins. “I’ll wait for you here then.” 

You don’t actually expect the Flash to be there when you exit the store, things in hand, but he’s there. He spots you. “Finally, it was getting weird standing here alone. Luckily no one asked for a picture.” You smile, before shuffling through your bags, “I bought some snacks as thanks for you, but the only place I think is open at this time is my place. We could go there to eat if you have time, that is..” You don’t know why your cheeks feel hot. He pauses for a minute, before shrugging. “Sure.”

You open the door, saying, “Please excuse the mess,” as you let the Flash into your apartment. You might be internally freaking out. He walks in as if he’s been here a thousand times before. “Oh, nice place?” You smile. “Thanks. We can go to my balcony and eat. It’s pretty tonight.” 

Leading him out, you show the snacks you bought. It was mostly snacks that Vernon forced you to try and were now your favorites. You look at him nervously. “I hope these are okay?” He seems pleasantly surprised. “Yeah, these are fine.” 

You two chat about your life, his superhero stuff. It was surprisingly refreshing as you gaze at the night, clear and stars shining bright. You turn to look at him and find him already looking at you. Your breath hitches. It suddenly feels a lot warmer. You think he’s leaning in, maybe you’re leaning in until a sudden breeze blows past and you shiver. The Flash inhales. “You should uh, get inside. It’s cold and getting late..” “Right,” you said, breaking out of your trance. 

But before you go in, you look back. “Will I see you again?” He only smiles. “Take care.” And then he’s gone in an instant. You fall asleep that night, no nightmares. 

❧

You do see the Flash again. Around two weeks later, he comes crashing into your apartment.  “Oh my god, you-“ He groans, collapsing on your couch. “What happened??” He coughs. “Another bombing. Got everyone out in time but barely.” His suit is all scorched and red. You wince at the burns. 

Hesitantly, you ask, “Can you remove your suit? T-to treat the burns?” He can only nod. Grabbing your med-kit, you sit on the ground next to him. “I won’t mess with your mask..” you softly murmur, “but if it’s bad, I’ll promise not to look, cause you’re in no shape to do it yourself.” 

You assist him in taking off the top part of his suit. You remind yourself to focus and not get distracted. The burns are red and harsh, and you shudder at the thought that you could’ve been through that if it wasn’t for the Flash. Taking the burn ointment, you warn him before softly rubbing it on top. He groans in pain, and you try your best to soothe him, gripping his hand tightly with your free one. 

It goes on for the rest of the night, and he passes out on your couch. The next morning, he’s gone with a simple scrawly thank you written on a notepad. You wonder how he found it because it was in a drawer that he did not know about, or at least you thought. Your thought is momentarily forgotten as you remember to text Vernon. 

Recently, Vernon had been busy and wasn’t texting you often, which you understood. But today, you were supposed to meet up later with him, just to hang out because you felt like you haven’t seen him in so long. 

Once you get there, he’s sitting down, anxiously bouncing his knee. You immediately brighten. “Vernon! I missed you.. What’ve you been up to that’s been taking you from me?” you pout. He nervously smiles. “Just school and work ya know??” You frown, but mumble “Alright..” You two catch up, and you tell him about the Flash, recounting that one night under the stars. You leave out the ending, though. Vernon’s eyebrows raise comically. “Geez, that’s cool. A superhero hung out with you? I’m jealous..” You nod excitedly. You decide not to tell him about the one night with the Flash’s unexpected visit. It didn’t seem right. 

As you two get up to leave, you notice Vernon limping. “Vernon?” you ask. He looks back at you. “What’s up?” You examine his body. He’s slightly hunched over like he’s injured. “Why are you limping??” He freezes. “I-well- I didn’t want to tell you.., but someone spilled their hot water over my legs... and yeah.” You open your mouth, but Vernon stops you. “It was an accident, alright? No need to get angry.” “I just care about you a lot,” you huff. He assures you by enlacing your hands together. You sigh but decide to let it go. 

❧

The Flash shows up at your place several times. By that, you mean at least once a week. The bombings are getting more and more frequent, and you’re not sure why. All the attacks are random, and the CIA still haven’t found any information on the bombers yet, so it’s up to the Flash to save them. Each time, he comes back with more and more injuries. 

Around the ninth(?) time he shows up, you frown in disapproval. “Listen, this is too much. There are so many bombings going on, and everyone expects you to save them all. You can’t keep doing this by yourself. Where are the police and security?” He just shrugs in defeat. “It’s my duty to help the city. This is my job, and if I have to save people from bombs daily, then I will.” You pout. “It’s not fair. Why can’t I be a superhero too so I can help you?” He laughs before wincing in pain. 

You tend to his injuries once more. Yes, he had accelerated healing, but constantly getting burned and hurt was taking a toll on him. Plus, you could tell he was just physically and mentally exhausted. Once you were done, you stare at him. His eyes were closed, so you assumed he had fallen asleep, but suddenly they flicker open. That’s when you notice the dark eye circles underneath them, even with the mask on. 

He just stares back at you, before softly muttering, “I’m so tired..” You’re about to respond, but he grabs your arm and pulls you forth, so your face is a lot closer to his than before. Frozen, you open your mouth to say something, but he leans up and places his lips on yours. Your eyes instinctively close. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but you’re finally able to pull back. He’s already half-asleep, exhausted. You quietly turn off the lights and leave him to rest. 

❧

Vernon was drained. Balancing his superhero life and normal life was getting difficult recently. With all the attacks, he was constantly stopping by your place as the Flash, then zooming back to his place to be Vernon again. His life was getting extremely hectic and busy, but he knew it came with being the city’s hero.

 He doesn’t know why he started stopping by your place, especially risking his identity being exposed. Maybe it was just the exhaustion or wanting to see you. It was really difficult to hide his identity from his friends, especially you. He was so busy and had no time to hang out with anyone, constantly saving lives and then going to classes and work immediately after. 

Finally having some free time to do his schoolwork, Vernon types away on his computer. He needed to take full advantage and catch up, because well, his grades weren’t doing too well. A notification catches his attention. It’s an email from... the CIA? 

The CIA contacted him? They’re the only ones who knew Vernon’s identity and promised to keep it a secret in return for working alongside them.  He’s shocked when he reads the email. It’s simple. Meet up at a restaurant today. 3 pm sharp. 

Once he gets there, he sees an officer waiting for him, beckoning. After he sits, the officer leans in. “We were able to track the bombers down and find the whereabouts of their next attack.” His eyes widen. They tracked the attackers down? The officer continues, “The next bombing is tomorrow, 7 PM at the Art Galleria. Get the bomb before they can set it off. We’re gonna be closing it but get all surrounding people out if necessary, and we’ll take care of the rest.” Vernon nods, processing the information. The officer gives him a last, don’t be late, and sets off, leaving Vernon to sit alone. 

❧

The next morning, you’re texting Vernon, telling him about your exams in the afternoon and asking if he wanted to go see ‘Picasso’s art’ with you around dinner time after you finish. He texts back a small, “No sorry I’m busy later :/“ thinking about his “plans” for that evening. You respond with “awww, it’s ok. I’ll go by myself and I’ll be safe! Promise! Also- don’t text me during my exams, my phone will be off!” Vernon smiles, putting his phone away in his pocket. 

He carries on with his day until around six-thirty. He’s visualizing the plans that’ll happen in about thirty minutes while also thinking about how he can make it up to you for not being able to go. 

Then it hits him. Picasso’s art? That’s at the art galleria. Which meant you were going to the art galleria later today. Around dinner time. The next bombing was in thirty minutes. Shit, he thinks, hand reaching for his phone before remembering your text. 

Your phone is off. You’re probably concentrating on your exams, then going to the art galleria without knowing anything. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. It’s fine. He’ll just somehow find you before you get there and move you to a safer place. 

He ignores what you said and texts you anyway. He types, ‘Y/n, don’t go to the galleria, no matter what. Just listen to me please.” Vernon also texts your friends, hoping one of them will catch you and give the message. 

Groaning frustratedly, he decides to put on his suit and go look for you. Making up an excuse in his head, Vernon runs around the art galleria, passing by everyone with a gust. But he can’t find you. Vernon was getting annoyed. It was getting closer to seven, and he needed to find the bomb. Where were you? 

He spots the police. They’re surrounding the whole place, getting ready to help people once he gets them out and preparing to arrest the bad guys. Vernon searches, but you’re nowhere to be found. He can only hope you’re not here. He zooms past the guards, going in and flying through the whole place. He grabs every person in sight and moves them out in 5 minutes. Now to find the bomb. 

He frowns. Why are there so many people at the galleria today? He just wanted to know where you are. He dashes into one of the exhibits, filled with paintings. He immediately stops. 

It’s you. You’re held by a hooded man, three other dark figures in the room next to what he figures is the bomb. 

Vernon’s heart plummets. How did he not catch you before? He can only look as the man laughs, holding you close with his arm tightly over your chest. Vernon can’t read the expression on your face, but you’re rigid, and your hands and feet are tied. The man grips you harsher. “Well, if it isn’t the little Flash. Move one inch and the bomb goes, along with the girl.” 

Internally, Vernon scoffs. He could take this whole group out in two seconds flat. But he was worried about you. He contemplated his chances, before lunging forward. He deals a few blows to the man before moving to you, undoing your arms and legs. Then he wrangles everyone and brings them out front to the police, everyone in slow motion. 

Strolling back into the galleria, he smashes the bomb with his foot. All in a few seconds. You gasp when you see suddenly him by your side, huddled over you. “Are you alright?” You could’ve gotten seriously hurt,” anger seeping through his voice. You frown. “I’m fine. I said I could take care of myself.” Raising his voice, he snaps, “You could’ve died! How did you even get in here? I went through the whole place, and you were the only person I wasn’t able to get.” 

You sigh. “Why do you care so much? Is it because you’re actually one of my closest friends?” He freezes. What? 

“Vernon,” your voice cracks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes slowly land on you. You’re sitting on the ground, arms around your knees, and staring at the ground like a hurt child. 

Vernon tried to respond, but nothing comes out. You stand up, shaky, but manage to take a couple of steps before he grabs your arm. “Y/n... I-“ but you interrupt him. “Do you like me? Like actually like me?” you ask softly, trying to catch his eye. He finally looks at you, swallowing. “Yeah.. and no. I love you Y/n. And I’m sorry for not telling you, no one knows except for the CIA. I just wanted you to be safe, and especially after today, I can’t lose you.”

You think you feel tears form in your eyes as you throw your arms around him. He relaxes, relishing in your warmth. You’re about to release him, but he tightens his arms around you. You look up, and Vernon leans down to capture your lips with his. It feels warm and you ignore the fluttering in your stomach. 

Breaking the kiss, Vernon realizes something. “Wait.... how did you know I was the Flash?” You roll your eyes, a grin on your face. “It was so obvious, whenever I brought it up you acted soo awkward.” He squeezes your waist playfully, letting out an oh my goddd. You look at him in amusement. “But really, it was after the Flash-I mean you- kissed me that one night. I dunno, it felt like I was kissing you.. and then after that, it just kinda clicked.”

Vernon thoughtfully nods before saying, “You know, we’re literally just standing in the middle of an exhibit. We should probably get out of here. I’m thinking Chinese tonight?” You smile widely. “Whatever you want, mr. flash-who’s-also-my-boyfriend-now?” He grins before picking you up in his arms, zooming off into the night.

❧

You think it’s pretty cool to have a superhero boyfriend. Especially one that can take you to get cookies at your favorite bakery in exactly 2.4 seconds (yes, you timed it). 

[sceptilemasterr]

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 2 - Back in Session

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: Classes resume for Fiora's second semester at Penderghast.

Previous Scene: Identity Crisis

Masterlist: Link

INT. PENDERGHAST CAMPUS - VARIOUS LOCATIONS

MONTAGE

In Tubigan Hall’s Auditorium 3, the students file in for their first class of the new semester; Fiora and Shreya are holding hands. A middle-aged man with long dark hair stands at the front of the room. This is DR. VARTOKIS, another Penderghast professor.

SHREYA (to Fiora): You know? I almost missed attending classes.

Fiora giggles.

FIORA: Emphasis on the “almost,” right?

ZEPH: I just realized... Fiora, you are gonna breeze through this class!

The group takes their seats, with Shreya and Fiora sitting together. Shreya smiles and wraps an arm around Fiora as they sit.

FIORA (quizzically): Why’s that?

ZEPH: ...Do you even know what class this is?

FIORA (embarrassed): Uh... no. I’ve been kinda distracted lately.

Zeph smiles and winks suggestively at Shreya, who laughs.

ZEPH: Oh, I bet! Anyway, this is--

Dr. Vartokis chooses that moment to address the class, his voice amplified. He speaks with a very cheerful, casual tone.

DR. VARTOKIS: Hello there, everyone! Welcome to your first class of this semester: Attuneless History, Society, and Culture! ...Or you can just call it “AHSC” for short if you want. I won’t judge ya!

A few students laugh as Fiora mouths a silent “oh” of understanding at Zeph. Zeph nods, and starts to say something, but Beckett shushes them.

DR. VARTOKIS: Okay, okay, I know many of you are probably wondering what the point of this class is. After all, if you’re gonna spend your career here in the Stoicheal Realm, why bother with my class? The truth is, whether your future leads you to a life among Tuneless or not, our two societies are inextricably linked.

BECKETT (muttering): Fascinating point. I had not considered this...

Beckett hurriedly writes something down in his notebook.

DR. VARTOKIS: Not to mention, there’s a lot we can learn from the Tuneless! We must never forget that we came from their realm, not the other way around. After all, it wasn’t so many centuries ago that our societies lived and worked side-by-side! In fact...

Dr. Vartokis continues talking as Shreya gives Fiora a knowing smile and leans her head on her shoulder. Zeph, meanwhile, is (for once) paying attention to the professor, nearly as attentively as Beckett.

DR. VARTOKIS: --as such. I’ll ask a few simple questions to get us started. First: who can tell me the name of Penderghast’s Archikeal reflection?

Several students--including Fiora and Shreya--raise their hands. Dr. Vartokis points to a student near the front of the hall, a Metal-Att named HECTOR RILENN.

HECTOR: It’s “Hart”-something, isn’t it? “Hartschild?” ...Maybe?

Dr. Vartokis shakes his head.

DR. VARTOKIS: Close, but not quite. You there!

He points to Shreya, who answers eagerly:

SHREYA: Hartfeld University!

DR. VARTOKIS: Correct! Now, who can tell me...

As he moves on to the next question, Shreya smiles at Fiora.

SHREYA (whispering): I’d never have known that one without you!

Shreya gives Fiora’s hand a quick squeeze. Fiora blushes and turns her attention back to the professor...

* * *

Fiora and her classmates file into one of the greenhouses for Natural Studies. Several of the other students are speaking to each other with confusion evident in their voices. Dracarys and Rys flutter above their owners’ heads with excitement, while Beckett’s (still) unnamed Grogue lets out a lazy croak from its position in his lap. Zeph laughs.

ZEPH: Looks like you’ve got some extra time, Beckett! Gonna name him yet?

BECKETT (irritated): Why on Earth do you think my answer would be any different than before?

Zeph leans in closer and smiles conspiratorially.

ZEPH (slyly): You know... Atlas told me what she’d name her Companion, if she ever got one. I asked her if she ever considered just not naming it at all, and she laughed in my face--

BECKETT (shocked): What?! You never mentioned this to me before!

ZEPH (shrugs): You never asked. So, what’s the verdict?

Beckett sighs, clearly considering Zeph’s words.

BECKETT (to himself): ...Hmm. It will have to be a name that is tasteful and refined...

Zeph gives Shreya and Fiora a side glance and a thumbs-up. Shreya giggles as Dr. Kontos enters the greenhouse.

DR. KONTOS: Greetings, and welcome back to Natural Studies! I am pleased to report that all of you passed the class, and did wonderfully on your finals!

A few cheers go up from the room, but most of the students just continue staring quizzically at Dr. Kontos.

DR. KONTOS: Yes, yes, let us address the dryxmar in the room first. According to standard Penderghast curriculum, my course ordinarily would be replaced with “Sourcism and Philosophy” for this semester. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Dr. Swan is otherwise occupied and unable to teach her usual class. Thus, Dean Goeffe has granted me permission to continue Natural Studies into your next semester!

As the students start muttering amongst themselves, Fiora leans in toward Shreya.

FIORA (whispering): Dr. Swan’s still gone? That... doesn’t seem good.

SHREYA (whispering): Perhaps Atlas is starting to rub off on you. We know why Dr. Swan is absent! She’s off on a mission for the Defenders, remember?

FIORA (whispering): Maybe, but still... it’s been weeks...

SHREYA (whispering): You just need to relax a little and focus on other things for a change. Like the Amorelia Day Gala! It may be a bit far off yet, but there’s no time like the present!

FIORA (whispering): “No time” for what?

SHREYA (whispering): Why, for asking whomever you intend to ask to the dance, of course! Surely you plan to ask, right?

FIORA (whispering): I dunno. I’ve got so much else going on right--

DR. KONTOS: Ahem. Miss Luxen, Miss Mistry, care to rejoin the class?

Fiora and Shreya blush heavily when they notice Dr. Kontos and the other students all staring at them. Fiora bows her head in apology and focuses on Dr. Kontos as Shreya looks at Fiora, frustration clearly evident on her face...

* * *

Inside the Defenders of the Flame meeting chamber, Lucia and Arvan lead Fiora, Shreya, and the third-year inductees in practicing their Stoicheal Gathers. Although Shreya manages to perform a Gather after only two tries, Fiora still struggles with her own. Lucia approaches her while the others are practicing.

LUCIA: Hey. Looks like you’re having some trouble.

Fiora stops and looks at Lucia, then nods.

FIORA: It’s the whole “foundation point” thing. I suck at it.

LUCIA: Having trouble figuring it out, then?

FIORA: Yeah.

LUCIA: There’s not a lot I can help you with on that front. The foundation is something that comes from within. Who is Fiora? What makes you... well, you?

FIORA: I don’t know. I’m not as talented or confident as Shreya...

Lucia follows her gaze to where Shreya is performing yet another perfect Stoicheal Gather, to the delight and cheers of the third-year inductees. Fiora sighs.

FIORA (to herself): I doubt I’ll ever be.

* * *

Fiora and Shreya walk hand-in-hand down a street in Pennelia, the bright sunlight reflecting off of the snow all around them. Shreya is regaling Fiora with a story.

SHREYA (speaking rapidly): --but it wasn’t as though I meant to Evaporate the entire hot tub! I was just getting so angry, and the water was plenty hot to begin with. It’s an honest mistake to make, you know. At any rate, I still ended up winning “Best Dressed” for the evening, so it wasn’t for nothing.

FIORA: Wow. That’s-- (laughs) Attuned parties really are something.

SHREYA: Oh, they really are! That’s one reason why I’m so looking forward to the Gala. Let me tell you, I’ve already got the perfect dress picked out! Now all that’s left is... well... you know, if someone were to ask me...

FIORA (curiously): Ask you what?

Shreya sighs in frustration and shakes her head.

SHREYA (annoyed): Seriously? It’s--ugh, never mind.

She immediately brightens and points to a shop in the distance.

SHREYA: Oh! Montraire Bakery! We simply must stop in for a bite!

She drags Fiora toward the bakery, but as she does so, Shreya’s face displays a brief flash of disappointment...

* * *

In her usual lecture hall, Dr. Religast is in the midst of a lecture on Stoicheal Awakenings. Beckett, as usual, is taking detailed notes on the professor’s every word, while Zeph is busying himself by attempting a Roped Current with his hands beneath his desk. All that he manages is a weak trickle of water, which Shreya neatly Evaporates before anyone can notice.

DR. RELIGAST: --of triggering an Awakening. The first, and by far the most common: children growing up in Attuned households will often Awaken on their own, simply by exposure to adult Attuned...

Fiora leans over Shreya’s shoulder to see that Shreya is flipping through a small pamphlet decorated with moving pictures of models showing off various dresses.

FIORA (whispering): What’s that?

SHREYA (whispering): Just the latest Mistry Inc. catalogue. It’s mostly dresses during this season, of course. For the many upcoming dances and, ahem... galas!

FIORA (whispering): Oh. Wow! Are you gonna buy anything?

SHREYA (whispering): No, no... I told you, I’ve already bought my dress. It’s just fun looking through these sorts of things!

FIORA (whispering): Right. Sounds like it!

SHREYA (whispering): Now all I need is a date.

FIORA (whispering): Yeah...

Fiora shrugs, turning back to focus on what Dr. Religast is saying.

DR. RELIGAST: --is exposed to a highly concentrated source of stoicheal energy to become Awakened on their own, without any Attuned being present. Although such occurrences are rare, they almost always cause significant upheavals in Tuneless culture when...

Dr. Religast’s voice fades into the background as Shreya lets out a growl of frustration.

* * *

Fiora sits on the couch in their room’s common area as Shreya fiddles with something near the entrance. Apparently satisfied, she steps back to admire her handiwork and does a brief twirl.

SHREYA: And... that should do it! One entryway, freely open for the next six hours!

Fiora laughs.

FIORA: Nice job, Shreya! I didn’t even know we could do that.

SHREYA (winks): Just a little something my sister taught me.

The door to Fiora’s room swings open, and Atlas enters.

FIORA: Speaking of sisters... hey, Atlas.

ATLAS: You’re sure opening the door’s a good idea? What if Raife decides to send something after us while we’re wide open?

SHREYA: He already managed that even with the door closed. I doubt it would make much difference.

Atlas huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at the newly-unlocked doorway.

ATLAS: Okay, but if the next thing to come through that door looks at all suspicious, I’m hitting it with--

She is interrupted by Griffin stepping through the doorway. Griffin quickly raises his arms in surrender as he enters.

GRIFFIN: Whoa, Atlas, it’s me! Please don’t hit me with anything.

Atlas relaxes a fraction.

SHREYA: Griffin! So glad you could make it! (to Fiora) Looks like the entry really is open, you see?

GRIFFIN: Wait, you didn’t check to make sure?

SHREYA (laughs): Relax! Clearly it all worked out, non?

Zeph steps through a moment later, with Beckett close behind.

ZEPH: Alright! The Pend Pals are all here. Let’s get this study session started!

They all gather around the center table, pulling out their various study materials and setting them out. Beckett raises an eyebrow at Zeph.

BECKETT: Not that I am complaining, mind you, but... it’s unusual to see you so enthused about studying.

ZEPH: What? I’m allowed to be excited about it if I want!

FIORA: So, uh... what should we start on first?

BECKETT: Shall we begin with Dr. Vartokis’s “Equivalencies” assignment? It seems by far the most difficult--

SHREYA: Oh, we finished that one ages ago. Fiora’s been making those types of comparisons to absolutely everything in the Stoicheal Realm for months now, so it was easy.

FIORA: I’ll help you guys if you want!

Zeph eagerly pushes his worksheet in Fiora’s direction, while Beckett looks from Zeph to Fiora to Shreya and back in shocked confusion.

BECKETT (muttering): ...Have I fallen into some strange alternate universe?

ATLAS: Wow. Looks like Fiora and Shreya are doing better than you in a class for once. Gotta say, your reactions are hilarious to watch.

BECKETT: Oh? Why don’t you attempt the assignment, then?

ATLAS: Why should I? I don’t even go to class. Besides, watching you struggle with schoolwork for a change is way more entertaining.

BECKETT (sighs): You are impossibly vexing...

* * *

Icicles hang from the trees overhead as Zeph stands in a forested part of the quad, clad only in shorts and a t-shirt. He holds a hand out in front of his face, palm outward and glowing with water stoichi, as he struggles to concentrate on something.

ZEPH: Urgh... come on!

A few small spurts of water emerge from his palm and fall to the ground. He grunts in frustration and takes a step backward before preparing to try again.

ATLAS (O.S.): Zeph? That you?

Zeph lets his arm fall to his side and turns to see Atlas, similarly underdressed for the weather in a short-sleeved shirt and thin pants, approaching through the snow. She frowns at him.

ATLAS: I know training when I see it. What are you working on?

ZEPH: Oh! Atlas! ...Actually, you might be able to help. I’m trying to do your Roped Current, but...

He attempts the technique once again, demonstrating a similar result to the first time. Atlas frowns.

ATLAS: You’re really worried about the Wave’s Crest, huh?

ZEPH: Yeah. With Fiora, Shreya, and Beckett all being inducted already, I’m worried I won’t get in at all. My family would kill me if I didn’t get in!

ATLAS (completely serious): Wait, really?! Sources, Zeph, you should get out of--

Zeph breaks down into laughter.

ZEPH: Atlas, I didn’t mean literally! You take things so seriously it’s hilarious. But still, they’d be pretty upset. I’d be the first Hernandez child in eight generations not to be inducted.

Atlas thinks for a moment, then nods.

ATLAS: Alright. I’ll help you out.

ZEPH: Wait, you will? Really?

ATLAS: Sure. For one thing, you’re never gonna accomplish much tryin’ to run before you can walk. Roped Current is damn near impossible to pull off without training up to Energy-Att level first. Or... (shrugs) ...being a natural-born Energy-Att like me, I guess.

ZEPH (dejectedly): Oh.

ATLAS: Don’t worry about it. If this Wave’s Crest thing is so important to you... why don’t we work to get in together? There’s plenty of other techniques I can teach you in the meantime. Stuff that only requires Water Attunement to pull off.

ZEPH: Wow, that’d be perfect! You’re awesome, Atlas, thanks!

In his excitement, he turns and moves to give Atlas a hug, but she goes for a handshake at the same time. They end up awkwardly pressing their palms together and shaking them up and down.

ZEPH (laughs): Alright, not sure what that was... but when do you wanna start training?

ATLAS: Now is fine.

ZEPH: Oh. Uh... wow. You really don’t mess around!

ATLAS: Are we gonna train or what?

As Atlas steps forward and gets into a combat stance, readying herself, Zeph catches her eye and smirks.

ZEPH: ...Alright, I think I get what Beckett sees in you now. You and him would be--blrgrlblubrlgrlgb!

Midway through his sentence, Atlas snaps her fingers, which are glowing with water stoichi. His voice abruptly shifts until it sounds like he’s trying to talk underwater.

ATLAS: Lesson 1. “Water Muffle.” Useful in many situations, and its effect... you can see for yourself.

ZEPH: Gluburgl blurrgrg ubulrgl...

Atlas waves her hand lazily, and the technique ends.

ATLAS: Any more talk about Beckett, and I use it again. Is that clear?

ZEPH: Uh... yeah.

ATLAS: Good. Now then. The first step to Water Muffle is...

_______________________

Notes: Dr. Vartokis was mentioned earlier, but here's his first actual appearance! Yes, he's yet another OC professor. The class he teaches seems to be one Zeph's particularly excited about! (His class is essentially the Penderghast equivalent of Muggle Studies, for the Harry Potter fans in my audience.)

Timeline: We're well into Endless Winter (ES book 2) by now!

_______________________

Next: "That Distance Between Us"

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie

DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

[land-of-classpects-and-analysis]

Mage of Mind

There are many puzzles, riddles, and in general countless problems we face throughout our lives, but not just any problem. Specifically, there will be problems that can’t be solved through any physical, unplanned acts of courageousness nor can they be solved by trying the same method over and over again, hoping that something will change. Unfortunately it is true that many points in our existence, there will be problems where we will have to stop and truly think, observe all of our options, and plan out each step that comes after another. Instead of taking someone by the hand and dragging them to the dance floor, bumping and knocking over many people along the way, it would be a situation where it would be wiser to observe and scan all of the available options, good and bad. There will be those who are near experts at this, almost to a frightening degree, while there are also those who will rush at what they think to be the best option only to be painfully proven wrong. It could be argued that those bound to the Aspect of Mind would be the best dancers of all - capable of sweeping the best partner off their feet, and seeing every possible outcome for their actions. While this may be true for some of them, there are also those who may not wish to dance at all, or simply those who do not know how to dance - at least not properly.

The Mage of Mind is someone who often struggles to wrap their head around their Aspect when it comes to understanding it. How can someone so easily see and know all the proper steps to do, especially to avoid stepping on their partner’s feet? Why must they already have some knowledge of their Aspect, but never have it be enough to do anything Mind related correctly? So many of their Mind-bound brethren seem to have so much more luck than them, and yet here they are, lost in the labyrinth of their thoughts with no one to guide them. They most likely are the one standing at the punch bowl, or even sitting on the bleachers, hoping to learn something by watching the crowd in front of them. Little do they know that they must not only put themself within the crowd to understand, but they must be willing to chase after different ways of dancing, whether it be by dancing with a partner they know and trust or attempting to traverse and dare themself at trying all types of different things on their own. Mind-bound are known to have an ever-shifting identity, after all, as building up their own rationale is far more important to them than creating a concrete sense of self. As such, the Mage of Mind is someone who may become quite the Jack-Of-All-Trades in the dances life will present to them, capable of sensing, knowing, and anticipating what type of beat and music they will be expected to dance along to. Because of this, they must not only learn all the different ways of dancing, but that dancing is something that can lead so many others to understand and know each other far better than anything else.

However, this is a point a little later in the Mage of Mind’s life, most importantly during a time where their Aspect has already revealed itself to the Mage themself. Let’s go back a few pages in their life and examine as briefly as we can what the Mage of Mind looked like before this epiphany of dancing and being surrounded by music. Whether it’s their childhood or their teens, early, middle, or late, there is a common thread that will always be attached to these Mages of Mind: they rarely, if ever, think of the consequences of their actions, and as such tend to neglect planning ahead for anything. They are someone who probably found themself stuck between many rocks and hard places as they grew up, but never enough to fully make them realize how much of a presence their Aspect has in their life. If anything, the Mage of Mind would try to avoid anything that involved a lot of hard-thinking, especially in terms of planning things out in a more thorough fashion. Don’t misunderstand this as the Mage of Mind being incapable of having great intelligence, though, as there are most definitely many Mages of Mind who are exceptionally smart. While a Mage of Mind may be an excellent student in school, if only for certain topics such as social studies and science, maybe even English, chances are they would immensely struggle with things such as projects and/or, to name one specific subject, math. Math is something that involves quite a lot of planning and deep thinking - having to memorize all the different formulas, patterns, and what will happen next if one were to multiply instead of divide. Projects would be a similar struggle for the Mage of Mind, as chances are that they have many, many unfinished projects, and the ones they have started on are often spontaneous and lack an overall sense of plotting and structure.

While the Mage of Mind may struggle with these certain things in terms of academics, this still would not be enough for the Mage to become acquainted, scarred, and marked by their Aspect. Where, or when, does this Aspect Awakening happen then? To put it in simple terms, at least before diving further into it: the Mage of Mind would be put into a situation where they must plan ahead, take into account every movement and decision they make, and think of the consequences that may come from it. After all, they can easily cheat on a Math exam or worksheet - pay someone to do it, copy off of someone, look up the answer sheet, whatever means they would deem easier than simply doing the work themself. Of course, they may also choose to simply flunk out of the class or even drop out of school if they’re stubborn or insistent enough. With the situation wherein they are confronted with their Aspect for the first time, though, it will be one where they can’t just run away or ignore it. Every action they take within that moment matters so greatly, that it would be of no surprise to hear that, unfortunately, this most likely is not a dance the Mage will execute properly. They may try their hardest to think about all their options, in the process freezing themself where they are, making them unable to act out whatever plan they have been creating on the spot. It’s a trap that many Mind-bound fall for, and unfortunately for the Mage of Mind, it is a trap they are destined to spring so that they may finally see what happens when someone who does not know how to dance is pulled onto the dance floor abruptly. People get hurt, and no amount of apologies will fix the damage their inactiveness brought. 

It is uncertain what the situation is exactly that leaves the Mage finally aware of their Aspect’s presence, but this is only because it is a situation that would vary from Mage to Mage. After all, not every Mage of Mind comes from the same walk of life, and while they may share a Classpect, no two Mages of Mind are guaranteed to be the same. Because of this, there will be some Mages of Mind who will try to avoid their Aspect at all costs after their initial encounter with it - and especially with how it left them scarred. Once a Mage becomes aware of their Aspect, though, it is an unfortunate truth that they will never stop being at least being conscious of how large of a presence it has in their everyday life. Everyone is constantly having their own dances, memorizing the script to a speech, planning out all of their responses for a job interview, trying to come up with a plan b to z in case something horrible goes wrong during this date, and so, so much more. It’s suffocating for the Mage of Mind, but there will be some who would rather live in this constant state of discomfort rather than seek out a better understanding - find more knowledge - as to why their Aspect works they it does, and why it so lovingly calls to them at every possible direction. As for the Mages of Mind who have a far tougher spirit, and are willing to allow themself to suffer more horrible events in order to come to a better understanding of or through their Aspect, they will come to the same crossroads that so many other Mages have come across. Will they be one who seeks out people, having many different dance partners along their journey so that they may learn everyone’s unique ways of dance, or will they simply try to find ways to create not only their own dance moves, but also pick and choose what they learn and see from their fellow dancers?

There are the Mages of Mind who will go with the former option, deciding to step into the crowd and find someone who will take the time to teach them how to dance their own dance. Which is to say, they are the ones who seek out knowledge through Mind. This journey will start with the Mage of Mind searching for their Aspect within other people - trying to discover and learn all there is to know about them and their motives. These Mages are the ones who show great promise in becoming one of the most empathetic of all their fellow Mages of Mind. When faced with a problem that requires logic and deep-thinking, they will often look towards someone else and see what they would do in this situation. Whether this will be a very close friend of theirs, or someone they have hardly ever spoken to, if they are someone who offers great wisdom and unique, sometimes anecdotal advice, then the Mage of Mind will happily approach them and ask as many questions as they can. Chances are that they will rarely go back to the same person multiple times in a row in order to get this information, though, if only because they truly are someone who wishes to hear and know all sides, as well as use every possible resource around them. These Mages of Mind are those who believe everyone should have a chance to speak and tell their stories. What this means is that this approach towards people could lead them down the path of becoming a rather empathetic and understanding person, even if the person who has given their story is no true or proper hero. Because of this, though, some may say that the Mage of Mind is a rather gullible person, but that is only partially true.

In the beginning of their journey, these Mages of Mind may indeed fall prey to a few lies that may even land them in a few tricky and difficult situations. However, while this may bring some sense of suffering to the Mage - most importantly in terms of who they can rely on to give reasonable lessons in the dance of logic - these moments will also serve as valuable lessons in their journey. After are, they are ones who are attempting to seek out knowledge through the Minds - the logic and reasoning - of others, so even if they were to be tricked or even betrayed, all it would do is help to usher along the Mage of Mind further into reaching the final half of their journey. As the Mage has come to learn the different ways of dancing that people partake in, as well as why some of these people decided to create their own styles of dancing rather than going the traditional route, they have also started to culminate their own sense of Mind and style of dance. During the length of their own self discoveries and inquiries about other people’s Minds, two of the most important words that the Mage had clung onto would most certainly be “why” and “what”, as these questions would help to propel them towards a better understanding as to why people act the way they do, how they have created the landscape of their Minds, what causes them to make the decisions they make, along with so much more. For the final half of their journey, though, if they so desire to find all there is to know through Mind, they will have to look within themself and try to learn all there is left to know through their own Mind.

Equipped with their wits, instinct, and all that they have learned so far of their Aspect, venturing into the large, expansive labyrinth that is their own Mind is the only way for these Mages of Mind to truly complete their own journey. However, this feat may feel like a task far too grand and intimidating for some of the Mages to handle, and so they may decide it would be best for them to stop while they are ahead. There may not be any grand suffering in plan for these Mages, but they are most certainly the ones who will never be able to shine as brightly as they can. On top of that, they will also never come to be as understanding and patient as the Mages who did not turn or cower away from their true destiny. We are stuck within our heads our entire lives, yet how often do we take the time to stop what we are doing and look or reflect on the interior of our minds? Having doubts, fears, and anxieties do not exactly count as moments of reflection. No, what the Mage of Mind must truly do is walk into the depths of their mind until they reach their own roots of the tree so beautifully bloomed in their head, or perhaps it’s to wander the corridors of an underground tunnel system, winding, twisting, and turning like that of a worm or snake beneath the surface of the Earth. They must learn, know, and recognize their own Mind - their own reasoning and motives for why they do what they do. Only when they finally reach the heart, the core, the epicenter of all their own thoughts, the birthplace of their logic, morals, and reasoning will these Mages of Mind fully come to understand the ins and outs of not only their Mind, but everyone else’s Mind, as well.

However, that is for later on in the analysis. Let’s shift over the gaze to the Mages of Mind who seek out knowledge of Mind itself. They are the ones who look for any and all instances where they may observe and learn more about what their Aspect holds for them. While this may raise images of the Mage going to places such as libraries, lectures in schools, and other similar places, that could not be further from the truth. No, their Aspect would call them to places where they would be forced to learn and endure a series of trials and errors - punished for not knowing any better in regards to logic and being rational. They are the Mages who neglected and ran away from any place that presented a threat of having to deep-think and plan ahead of their moves, and now they must pay back all the debt they have built up over the years. A defining factor in their journey is that, at least in the beginning, they will be put into even more situations where they are destined to fail and be reprimanded for having not learned any better earlier in their life. To some people, this may seem like a path no reasonable person Mage would want to travel. The reason this is true is because these Mages of Mind are not reasonable people - they do not follow the rules set in front of them, and instead do whatever they wish, as long as it allows for them to avoid their Aspect. At least, that is how it was before they were marked and scarred by their Aspect, and have now become far more aware of its presence. Their Aspect is like that of a great shadow that is forever looming over them and their life, threatening to fall atop the Mage and crush them if they continue to ignore its presence. The Mage of Mind knows this, and so rather than try to run away and out from beneath its massive shadow, the Mage of Mind instead looks upon their Aspect, allowing for it to know that it has their attention. From that point onward, their Aspect - like that of a great bird - will call for the Mage to follow it from beneath its wing as it brings them to many places, people, and sights that are filled to the brim with the Mind Aspect. It is within these situations where the Mage of Mind will get to discover and learn more about their Aspect, as they witness all the different ways people can dance and live their lives. Which is to say, the Mage of Mind will look at these places or faces and learn more of what it means to be one of the Mind-bound. It is through these situations, as well, where they are faced with countless moments of trials and errors that they will eventually come to understand why a certain approach they may have tried a hundred times has never worked. Once they become knowledgeable of their mistakes will they be able to finally know and see more options available to them. If they were to be cornered by a dangerous person in an alleyway, many people may be quick to simply shout for help or try to attack the assailant, but these Mages of Mind may learn that it would simply be smarter to try and find a way to run away or talk the person down from whatever they had planned.

Further down their journey, they would slowly start to recognize the rhythms that occur in situations, much like the rhythms and beats that can be heard across multiple different songs. Because of this, the Mage of Mind may be someone who would learn to be far less quick to spring into action, and instead take time to eliminate all options until they come to realize what situation they are in exactly. For some Mages of Mind, they may even purposefully look for these problems and scenarios where they do have to think ahead, if only because they know it will help for them to make even further progress in their journey. This change in perspective may alarm some Mages of Mind, though, and so there will most definitely be a few of these Mages of Mind who try to avoid such scenarios of high stress with an even higher chance of failure. No matter how long the Mage of Mind may try to avoid their Aspect, though, it will always be there, looming above them and waiting for them to mess up. As the Mage of Mind comes to know more and more about their Aspect, though, and gains a better understanding of how it works, then they are the Mages of Mind who have a wonderful potential to be extremely quick-witted and be the most excellent people to go to for advice on how to handle a situation.

The Mage of Mind is someone who may have started out their life as someone believing they could simply get by without having to worry about planning ahead for anything, or not being the most logical or empathetic of people. Due to their Aspect eventually coming to reveal its most horrendous and cruel side, though, it is of no surprise that the Mage would be left unable to ever truly hide or run away from the all-encompassing shadow that is their Aspect. While their suffering during their journey differs between the Mages, with one group suffering a far more inner turmoil of facing themself and having to confront their own rationale for why they do the things they do, and the other seeming to have a near constant bittersweet streak of luck in regards to the situations they find themself in from day-to-day life - whether it is good luck or bad luck is simply up to the Mage of Mind to decide themself. However, through all of the struggles, trials, and tribulations, the Mage of Mind is one who has come out as, well, not an entirely changed and new person, but most definitely someone who is more knowledgeable and wise on how they approach problems and conflicts thrown at them. They’re far more patient, diplomatic, and understanding than they were before, which is most definitely something those who knew the Mage of Mind in the beginning of their journey are bound to take notice of. While they may not be any more mature, there is still an air of change to them that is undeniable. They’ve seen and learned how people around them dance, why they dance the way they do, and what it truly means to not themself but everyone around them. Making one wrong step on the dance floor can ruin not only the dance for their partner, but also for everyone else, as well; that is one of the most important things the Mage of Mind should have learned by the end of their journey.

Although it may be quite obvious, it would be unfair to not brush over what the powers of the Mage of Mind would entail. For the Mages of Mind who sought out knowledge through their Aspect, they are the ones who play a strong support role in their group, as well as showing great promise in being a mediator of disputes and the bringer of truth. In regards to being supportive of their friends, allies, and fellow teammates, they are someone who would look past any bias and prejudice one may have and instead only see a person for what they are: a person with a story to tell and a motive to give. Because of this, it is also why they would make an excellent mediator, as they are one who has an identity so often fluctuating that they would have no time to form any bias whatsoever. Do not mistake them for a gullible fool any longer, though, for although they are willing to hear out all sides of the same story, they have learned that while some people may have a far more tragic past than others, it does not excuse the horrible things they have done. They are someone who is simultaneously the least judgemental out of the whole group, yet will often act like that of the judge, and as such only care for the truth to be settled and righteous punishment to befall the guilty. As for the Mages of Mind who found knowledge of Mind, they almost share the same power that the former group of Mages also acquired, though they use these powers ever so slightly differently.

When the latter group of Mages ever find themself in a high stress situation, they are quick to look towards their Aspect for guidance and answers of what to do. As they do this, they will eventually become far more grounded in rationale and logic rather than instinct and emotions. Once this state of clairvoyance has been achieved they will be able to visualize all available options, as well as being able to see all the consequences that are to come with the action they choose to do. While they may not know as to whether these actions will bring them into a Doomed Timeline or not, or if it is even the most intelligent or morally correct choice to make, if they see an option that shows the most promise of eliminating the most threats, then there is no doubt that they will pounce onto that opportunity while they still have it. 

What makes them so different to the other Mages of Mind, though, is that the former group cannot see that far ahead of what consequences will come of their actions. Their own logic blocks out any glimpse they may get as to what will come after the option they pick. Perhaps for those who somehow have found a way to walk upon both paths, they may be able to see brief glimpses of all the different options and consequences, but it will rarely ever let them see any further than a few moments into the future. Because of this, the former group of Mages are the ones who have the higher chance of becoming frozen when faced with conflict - especially with that of a battle. While they may know how to dance, and how to identify the music currently playing, they will never be able to guess how the rhythm may shift once they finally force them onto the dance floor. While the Mage of Mind may have started their journey afraid to set foot on the dance floor, they are now more than capable of not only participating in such festivities. Not only that, but there is a high probability that they will have no trouble being the one to perfectly sweep others off their feet, as well as teach them all of the most wonderful and creative ways to dance.Who knows, perhaps even they themself are throwing the party, as Mind-bound are recognized to be the ones who know how to have fun in the most expressive ways possible. At the end of the day, if there is anyone who understands that sharing all the different ways of life helps to bring people closer together, whether it is through deep and intricate discussions at 2 AM and reflections on life or by swinging, tapping, and spinning in a partnered dance, it would most definitely be the Mage of Mind at their absolute best. Don’t be afraid to take up the opportunity when it arises, as no one knows for certain when it will happen again - not even the Mage of Mind in all of their whimsical joy and jolly wisdom.

[thedistrictroleplay]

ID: 

Name | Nickname | Age:  Nicholas Scott Vanderbilt | Nick | 30 Birthday | Astrology:  March 17, 1991 | Pisces sun,  Pronouns | Sexual identity:  He/him | heterosexual  Birthplace | Raised: Tuxedo Park, NY | New York City, NY Residence: Upper Northwest  Occupation: Attorney, Assistant Law Professor at Georgetown Faceclaim: Scott Eastwood 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: drug mention tw

TIMELINE: 

March 17, 1991- Nicholas is born as the 2nd son of Patrick and Elaine Vanderbilt.  He joins older brother Peter, and will later be hounded by brother Christopher, as an extension of the New York Vanderbilt legacy of politicians. 

Summer 2003-2008 -  Nick is sent to summer camp, along with Peter, to Camp Walt Whitman in New Hampshire.  When Christopher turns twelve, he also joins the annual tradition. 

August 2008-June 2009- Nick long-distance dates Aly Acosta, whom he met at Camp Walt Whitman

June 2009- graduates high from St. Judes Prep in NYC and is Princeton bound.  Nick and Aly amicably break up before going their separate ways to college.

August 2009-June 2013- attends Princeton University, ultimately graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Politics, with political economy emphasis.  

September 2014- starts at Columbia Law school, alongside Aly who has moved to NYC to attend business school at Columbia.  Nick plays hard and works harder, graduating #2 in his class.

sometime in 2015-  Nick and Aly blackout and wake up married, courtesy of Nick’s fast-talking, lying his ass off to a judge who is friends with his family.

June 2016- Aly graduates and immediately begins traveling everywhere for work.  Nick applies for an international dual-degree program that moves him to Paris for his last year of law school. 

August 2016-October 2017- Nick lives and studies in Paris, both degrees conferred in October when he returns to the United States.

February 2018- takes the NYC bar exam. 

March 2018-July 2018- UN internship in Vienna as legal affairs intern. 

July 2018-January 2021- Ambassadorship in Belize.  He checks out a little early after Aly’s abuela dies and he’s traveling back and forth; his attention is too divided and he knows it. 

January 2021- moves to D.C. for international trade attorney job.  Also begins working at as part-time assistant professor at Georgetown and, over the spring, settles into a home in the area. 

BIOGRAPHY: 

Nicholas Scott Vanderbilt, Nick to most, was born the second son of Patrick and Elaine “Lainey” Vanderbilt on the luckiest day in the land, two days late and establishing that he would do what he please and when he damn well wanted. The last name Vanderbilt, no matter the spelling, conjures an image. They’re practically a brand. Young Nicholas and his brothers, as well as his extensive network of cousins, were raised to enhance and support that image. It could be argued his grandfather, William, was a cult leader raising young men to take over the world. Every Vanderbilt son was pressured to be the best, to seek their interests as long as their interests were both academic and high-end, and to pursue a political career. Their last name opened those doors, whether it was a prep school Model UN, the right university, or a job. All they had to do was follow their grandfather’s every instruction and the world would be theirs. It was their birthright, after all.  At least, that’s what they threw out there into time and space.  Nick didn’t exactly agree, preferring to exploit those opportunities with hard work and clear-cut goals -- but he absolutely benefitted from the system and knew from an early age how to selectively keep his mouth shut and manipulate outcomes. 

He wasn’t the typical middle child, acting out for attention. He did what was expected of him, but he always did it his way. He could talk his way into and out of trouble, and his energy left his parents exhausted. Just kidding, he wasn’t raised by his parents.  They checked in, but he was raised by an army of well-educated and well-paid nannies and tutors. He was always smart enough to excel, always duty-bound enough to show up, and always rebellious enough to do it on his own terms. He grew to have a taste for expensive things, too pretentious to do low-class drugs or drive basic cars, but also with a few quirks. He didn’t quite have the temptations or shortcomings of his brothers – the constant need for women and the trouble they brought with them when any woman would do, the friends who lived off his money for their good time, the artistic side that barely masked an identity crisis. Instead, he was selectively social, even though it gave him the reputation of being an unequivocal snob, preferring indie bands and concerts, craft beer in off-the-beaten-path bars to escape haranguing of Page Six and other such nonsense, and other “hipster bullshit” according to his younger brother. He didn’t care. He wasn’t sure anyone had anything to offer him anyway.  Maybe there was something to the ‘snobby’ part of his reputation.  As he grew, he realized there was something to the ‘asshole’ part, too, and he never really felt like apologizing for it, so he didn’t. 

His educational dossier reads like something in a leather-bound tome, planned out by his grandfather from the moment Nicholas blessed the world with his presence. The only exception is he went to Princeton for his undergraduate, instead of following the family footsteps to New Haven. Mostly, he did it for the sake of being different, not because he cared what the piece of paper said. He had bigger aspirations but made his mark by being slightly different than some of his cousins with their sights on Congress or being Governor. He still did all of his undergrad in politics, emphasis on political economy, and then went to law school at Columbia. While the name didn’t hurt anything, he was confident he got in based on the strength of his academic resume, and he graduated near the top of his class only because he let someone else have that likely last, shining accomplishment in their lives. He doesn’t even remember the woman’s name and he definitely didn’t sleep with her. Or did he? He won’t tell one way or the other, because his parents messed up when they didn’t make discretion part of his middle name. Part of his success was his selective ability to do what he wanted under the radar. His brothers and cousins were just a little too obvious with their exploits, and Nicholas was determined to be smarter and better than them.

Take, for example, the time he got married during year 2, while profoundly drunk in Atlantic City, to a girl from Miami he’d met at a bougie send-away summer camp.  He had attended the camp every year from age twelve to age seventeen, and she was there the whole time.  They had continued to date through their senior year of high school, in spite of the distance.  In addition to liking her, he also liked the privacy of dating someone who didn’t live in the surprisingly-claustrophobic New York world.   Either way, she wasn’t an unknown quantity by any means and his parents and grandparents liked her well enough, even if her mother was a bit much and bit too new-money-ambitious in her efforts to prove herself.  With the wedding, the real problem was he used his silver tongue to lie to a judge, who blessed the wedding without a waiting period. It left him in a rough spot professionally, because he couldn’t get a divorce and admit to the lies without it being political suicide before he’d even graduated from law school.  Aly had ambitions of her own and they split again, like they had during high school but different, and mostly went their own ways. She was young and wild, and he was all over Europe finishing a dual degree in something that was a mouthful to set him up for a career at the UN or as an ambassador, so they only connected sometimes.  They’d had a youthful pact to marry each other at forty if they hadn’t married other people anyway, and not bothering with a divorce kept them away from the messy need for a prenup that hadn’t happened.

HIs parents thought the split went through years ago, fast enough Amy Acosta couldn’t start to model the Vanderbilt family jewels, and they’re very mistaken.  However, he’s always been good at hiding where his heart truly lies, playing off emotions, sounding flip and sarcastic when things get tough. They think he’s back in the States to move forward, long past the one youthful indiscretion where they have only minimal details. The next planned step in the Vanderbilt legacy is marriage and children. After all, what is a legacy if it is not continued?  Now that Nick isn’t just pushing thirty, but is actually there, it’s time for him to turn his attention there, at least in their estimation.  It’s on him to continue their legacy because God only knows his brothers, take your pick of an artist or a consummate playboy, are never going to give his parents and grandfather anything to be proud of.

So it’s up to him. After quietly supporting Aly through some hard times, quitting his hard-won job in the embassy in Belize was easy. After his family’s not-so-subtle attempts to force him home to settle down, moving to the District was easy, because he can still progress his career. He doesn’t want to be around the Vanderbilts any more than he has to these days anyway, so New York wasn’t an option.  And, you know, maybe becoming an esteemed law professor or legal scholar isn’t the worst idea.  It allows a certain amount of flexibility and conjures up a whole new image, even if it’s one he hasn’t considered before.   

Nick is written by M.

[dailyexo]

[INTERVIEW] EXO - 191213 Billboard: “EXO Talk 'Obsession’ Album & Future: 'I Hope that the Name of EXO Can Grow’”

"It’s been seven years since EXO arrived with 2012's MAMA EP, and since then the boy band has spent much of its time atop of the South Korean music scene, with hits like 2013’s “Growl" and 2015’s “Love Me Right” setting them up as a dominant act throughout much of Asia. Last month, they unveiled their sixth LP, Obsession, ending the year -- and the decade -- with both a new sound and a hint towards what the future will bring for the men of EXO.

Fronted by a lead single also dubbed “Obsession,” the 10-track album is bookended by Korean and Chinese versions of the song, which turns the group towards hip-hop-inspired sampling and an intense Auto-tuning, blending their more typical R&B and electro-pop styling with musical elements that at first seem anachronistic and jarring. But it’s the perfect way to set up the story they’re trying to tell.

For EXO, the majority of their musical releases have been tied into fictive narratives revolving around the members and fantastical, sci-fi plot lines, ranging from the extraterrestrial to the supernatural. For Obsession, which peaked at No. 198 on the Billboard 200 chart dated Dec. 14, EXO presented oppositional sides to themselves through a series of teaser images and videos ahead of the album’s release, setting up an epic battle between EXO and their X-EXO clones, which played out in the music video for their single. The song’s apparent disjointment on first listen is meant to go alongside the visual elements, representing a dialogue between the two warring parties.

“Honestly, when we look into a song we think about what kind of performance will work and whether a song will fit the kind of performance we want to put on,” Kai tells Billboard. “So when we heard this song, we thought it was a really good fit in the sense that for the Auto-Tune it matched the idea of the two different EXOs, EXO and X-EXO. The Auto-Tune kind of gives us the vibe of communication between the two different parties having a conversation, so it was a very specific move that we took.” He said he thinks EXO will win the fight, eventually, “Because anytime you watch a movie or read a comic the hero does win. X-EXO is temporary so they’re going to disappear anyway.”

The idea behind the storylines that EXO utilizes to promote their music is to better get their music across to fans -- known collectively as EXO-L -- and also to better relay content in the age of digital media, where visuals are just as important as audio elements. It’s been something the group has been utilizing since their earliest days, and each member has supernatural powers associated with them that often are featured in their branding. “We’re not just a group that sings and dances,” says Chanyeol. “For people watching us, of course they know the storylines are fake. But like watching a movie, it's another way for people to fall for us more deeply. It gives people a back story about how we were formed. Our storyline isn't just incorporated into our music or videos, but it's incorporated really well into our concerts as well. We do feel that it really allows people to become properly immersed.”

Kai and Chanyeol are two of six EXO members that participated in the album, alongside Baekhyun, Chen, Sehun, and Suho, following the enlistment of Xiumin and D.O. in South Korea’s military, fulfilling the country’s mandatory draft requirements, and Lay focusing on a solo career in China. The six other members are expected to similarly enlist and take temporary hiatuses from the industry in the near future.

The new dynamic has given EXO’s members opportunities to explore different sides of themselves, and Chanyeol says that it’s also opened their eyes to how they work together and cover for one another in case of any issues. Each member "has to pull their weight so whether in singing or dance, there are parts that won’t be hidden,” he says. “It would be a really big problem [if we made a mistake] because it would be really obvious.” For Suho, who is EXO’s leader, the diminishing numbers makes him reflective. “The fact that we’re unable to perform with all the members is a little bit sad, so when we look at old videos we do feel like, ‘Oh, there are a lot of members in the group’ and we’d like to come together as a full group.”

As all able-bodied South Korean men are expected to take time off from their lives to fulfill the country’s draft requirements, EXO knows it will be seeing more such changes in the near future, and the act will likely not look the way it once did for sometime. But rather than dwell on the past, the men of EXO are looking towards the future, and 2019 saw many of them work on alternative projects, where it was releasing solo music, such as Chen, Baekhyun, Xiumin, and D.O., or working with new units, like Sehun and Chanyeol’s EXO-SC and Baekhyun and Kai in SuperM, along with numerous other professional activities. “We’ve received so much love for our units and solo projects, but at the end of the day the most important thing is the team and group’s performances,” says Baekhyun. “The fact that we’re able to show all these different sides to us also allows us to show different sides of EXO as a group and show how diverse we are, and how each of us have our own talents.”

When asked how they feel about their career over the past decade and what they hope for the future, Chanyeol responds that the members of EXO feel that they’re focusing on the present and facing each moment on its own. “To be honest, when we do interviews when we’re working we realize that as a group we’ve become very comfortable. Rather than us having to go out of our way to go do something, it’s become very natural for us. It’s grown with time and come naturally, this sense of maturity.”

Though EXO and X-EXO battle it out over the Obsession album, the duality of the release is also reflected in the members’ struggles to explore their identities as individuals beyond the act: how to be both a member of EXO and a man in his own right. As EXO have grown in their career, they have also grown up: youngest member Sehun debuted as a teenager but is now 25-years-old. Unfortunately ill on the day of the interview, he was silent throughout much of the discussion and his health hung over the act like a cloud, with frequent references to how, as they get older, they need to take care of themselves better. “These days, seeing that our physical health is part of our workload, I feel that a healthy life, health in general, is very important,” says Baekhyun. “Rather than thinking about more of what we can do to grow as a group, I feel that we all have begun to focus on seeking individual happiness. Right now, a lot of our focus is on how each person is able to find their own happiness and health, and use that when we come together as a group to move in the right direction.”

Suho echoes this, saying that their branching out as individuals beyond the group is a way to take care of themselves as individuals after years of focusing on the collective well-being. “In the past, EXO’s schedule didn’t allow a lot of individual talents to be focused on but starting from the beginning of this year we were given the time to really focus on ourselves, whether it was internally or externally. It’s not just us as a group, but I think everybody needs that kind of self-care. It was good for everybody.”

Even as they focus on themselves, the group is still the focal point of EXO’s identity. “We came together, got very close, and without the passion that we had as a group I don’t think we would have made it as far as we have come,” reflects Baekhyun. “When it comes to being satisfied, as people I think that we’re never 100% satisfied.” This passion towards improving and always seeking something closer and closer to perfection, but recognizing that is impossible and that there is always something more to be done, is emphasized by the members’ responses when asked what their obsessions are: Kai says he’s a workaholic, and Chanyeol says his competitive nature is to the degree that it could be considered an obsession. (Meanwhile, Baekhyun’s obsessed with games, and Kai jokes that Sehun is obsessed with alcohol, as it is well-known he’s one of the group’s members who enjoys drinking.)

One place where Chanyeol at the very least is satisfied in is EXO’s music. “When it comes to our music, I’m 100% confident that we release quality music,” he says with pride. “It’s almost like we’re not following trends but we don’t fall back behind either.” He and Sehun tried to push their artistic side in a new direction with EXO-SC’s What a Life EP in July, and there was a bit of a negative response from some fans over the title song’s music video, which featured the pair partying it up with female dancers. But he says it’s all good, as there’s no moving forward without trying new things, and it’s always good to hear differing opinions. “We wanted to do something drastically different. You could say it was so completely different from what EXO typically releases. It was a very dramatic challenge for us, and even though there was some backlash from fans, for me personally it was a big motivating factor, that I need to show more new sides and that there are many new challenges to take on.”

It’s important to EXO that their audience takes in all the different sides to themselves that they have to offer, and Chen says he hopes that listeners recognize that there’s a difference between an artist releasing a single and an album. “If you listen to the whole album beyond ‘Obsession,’ you’ll recognize that all of the songs are good,” he says; his personal favorite is “Groove.” “I feel that there is a tendency that people just listen to the title track, but it would be really great if people can listen to the whole album because every song is really great.”

Moving forward, EXO knows they’re shifting into a new era of their career, but they express a desire to always remain as one. “I hope that EXO is able to continue just the way it does right now, but beyond the group I hope that each individual member is able to find his own happiness,” says Baekhyun. “We may not go on music performance shows all the time in 10 years, but we hope that we can release albums here and there. In that we can all live our own lives and come together, happily, as a group.” He pauses, and adds with a wry expression, “I think that in 10 years, hopefully we’ll be able to release something like a ballad or an R&B-heavy song where we can just stand around rather than dance.” Other members quickly jump in and refute this though. “That’s not EXO’s thoughts, that’s Baekhyun’s thoughts,” Sehun says with a laugh, while Chanyeol adds that he hopes EXO is “a very cool group” 10 years down the road; Kai adds that he would like to continue dancing as long as his body allows for it.

“As time passes, like our members, our fans are going to start pursuing their own lives as well,” says Kai. “As they fall into their own lives, when they suddenly have a thought of EXO, I hope that one thought that comes to their mind is, ‘It was a really good memory being their fan.’” Suho echoes this, repeating “A good memory” in English with a nod of his head. Baekhyun agrees with this desire for their time together with fans to be thought of warmly, but follows up with the suggestion that the idea of being a memory, while heartwarming, is limiting. “I really hope that we aren’t a group that is remembered as a group that’s part of the past, because when you think of that you think about these groups that don’t really promote and they don’t really do anything as a team. I hope that, whether individually or as a group, we continue to promote and that the name of EXO can continue to grow.”"

Photo links: 1

Credit: Billboard.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Okay, thinking of more ways for Marinette and Adrien to handle the Lila situation in some sort of standard ‘salt fic’, though the salt quickly turns to sugar:

Between Adrien learning that Lila isn’t just telling grand-but -harmless stories, learning that she threatened Marinette, and having to deal with Lila coming onto him constantly, Adrien has had enough.

He decides they have to do something, but he knows calling Lila out won’t help. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, or because ‘she could be Akumatized again’. No, it’s because Lila is good at coming up with things on the fly and would turn everyone against both of them if they tried.

Adrien’s solution? Fake Dating AU.

His idea is that he an Marinette pretend to be together for a while. At least until Lila is done with.

Adrien does admit it’s a bit much, and he doesn’t like lying like that either, but Lila is very much not taking ‘no I think you’re terrible’ for an answer. He’s just that desperate and kinda trapped since he can’t find a way to reject her publicly without backlash.

Like, he’s tried to tell other people that Lila hanging off him makes him uncomfortable, but that’s met with ‘well you let Chloé hang off you all the time so why’s this different?’. And when he says that Chloé is a friend and has permission, people get all ‘well isn’t Lila your friend too?’, and he can’t call her out because of previously mentioned fuckery.

But him getting a girlfriend is a good way to at least get Lila away from him. Or at the very least it will have everyone else go ‘look, the man has a girlfriend. Even if you supposedly don’t think of him as a potential boyfriend, you probably should lay off the touchy-feely-thing.’

he says it also gives them an excuse to hang out more often.

Marinette is conflicted for so many reasons. But in the end, she swallows down her anxiety and tells him that she shouldn’t do it because she has a crush on him.

She’s legit like ‘this is probably the worst way to find out but...’.

While the ‘Fake Dating AU’ idea could work, it would be unfair because then she’d be the girl with a crush all up on him.

Adrien is very flustered by the confession, and feels really guilty about putting her in that position.

He’s more concerned about how it would’ve been hurting her to ‘be so close yet so far’ and all that.

At this point he’s like ‘okay this was a dumb idea let’s figure something else out.

Marinette suggests he ask someone else. Like Kagami or even Chloé, or just go and ask out that ‘other girl he likes’ for real and date her.

Adrien kinda flounders on why he chose Marinette instead of Kagami. I mean, the real reason is that he is already into Mari and would like to actually date her, but he’s very much in denial. “just a friend” my ass!

He also can’t pretend to go with Chloé for several reasons.

The biggest is that while she can overact about liking him, the two of them would be very uncomfortable pretending to be an actual couple.

There’s also the fact that it wouldn’t be believable since he ‘turned her down so often’.

Obviously Adrien doesn’t tell Mari that the ‘other girl’ he likes is Ladybug, but he explains that it’s a complicated situation

he also mentions that she rejected him, and that he also needs to talk to her. Because while it’s no where near the same as the Lila situation, he had been a bit pushy about flirting after rejection.

After a long conversation, they end up still going through with it.

Adrien tells Marinette that she’s allowed to back out at any time. If it gets too painful for her. He’d accept the brunt of whatever fallout their ‘breakup’ is.

Marinette tells him that he is the one to set most of the boundaries on how far she can go with the ‘being a girlfriend’ thing. Because obviously they have to act the part and be all cutesy, but she doesn’t want to force him into anything.

He trusts her to not take advantage of the situation.

The next day at school is wild.

Adrien kisses Mari on the cheek and she just lets out this high-pitched noise. Luckily he finds this endearingly adorable instead of weird.

Alya sees this and is begging for details. As is the rest of the class, really.

After the initial announcement everyone kinda holds their breath and braces for loud noises. When it’s just quiet, they all look over at Chloé.

Chloé looks up from texting to be like ‘What? Oh, right. You hurt him and I’ll kick your ass.”

Of course my girl is in on this plan.

TBH one of the constants with me is that she pretends to be ‘madly in love’ with Adrien for various reasons, but she does care about him a lot so she supports whatever relationship he wants to go for

also, another constant with me is Chloé figuring out everyone’s identities so you know. She double supports this.

And then we have Lila. She is very pissed. Not just because of Adrien being ‘off the market’, but because it was Marinette of all people. So she does what she does best. She lies. Fortunately for Mari, some are a bit too unbelievable, and others she has Adrien to be an alibi for.

She claims she ‘recently developed a small crush on Adrien and Marinette is obviously doing this just to hurt her!’. The class is like ‘nah Mari’s been in love with him for like a year. Lila covers this lie with ‘oh I didn’t know about that. I was just concerned because she doesn’t like me and this happened now...’

She brings up that she saw Mari out with another guy, and Adrien says ‘no we were out that day’ or ‘we were on video call’. Lila covers this by saying that she must’ve just seen a girl that looks like her.

She says Mari ‘confronted her in the bathroom at lunch about all this and totally threatened her to stop!’. Too bad she didn’t realize that Mari and Adrien were out to lunch off-campus. This one is a bit harder to lie out of, but people don’t realize everything is a lie, just that this might be.

Lila then brings in the ‘big guns’, telling Gabriel.

She informs him about the relationship, saying that Marinette is just horrible, and is only interested in Adrien because he’s Gabriel’s son and it would easily further her career.

Of course, while Gabriel isn’t aware of all of Lila’s bullshit(like her harassment of Adrien), he does know that she lies about things.

He also knows that Marinette doesn’t need to use a relationship with Adrien to further her career, as she’s already gotten the attention of himself and a few other celebrities.

However, now that Gabriel is aware of the relationship, he tells Adrien to bring Marinette over so they can formally meet.

There’s panic from the class when Adrien tells Mari about this, and of course she panics.

But by the end of the night she and Gabriel actually get along, having gone on a tangent and talked Fashion for literal hours, and the relationship has the ‘Gabriel Seal Of Approval™’

Lila is internally screaming.

As all this continues, Adrien is having a lot of realizations.

He’s getting very into the role as Marinette’s boyfriend. A little too into it. Like, even Mari is like ‘okay keep doing that and I’ll start to wonder whether this is acting or not’, because he’s still being sweet and affectionate even when they’re somewhere alone and don’t have to play the parts.

And then there’s the things everyone else is saying. Like, all of his friends are like ‘glad you finally realized you love her’. When he asks what they mean, they give this long list of things that ‘were obvious signs you loved her’.

Basically he realizes he was in love with Marinette the whole time. He goes over everything to try and pinpoint when this happened and ends up pretty much at the very beginning with the umbrella.

Adrien is having a Crisis™. So he does the only thing he can think of: wait until he can be Chat Noir and talk to Ladybug.

Chat tells her that while he is still in love with her, he also seems to have fallen for this other girl.

Ladybug says ‘look, I’ll admit that while I have the other guy, I might’ve fallen for you if I hadn’t fallen for him. But two heroes dating is dangerous and all.’. She suggests he asks out the other girl.

Chat admits that might be difficult, and explains that he and this girl are ‘fake dating’ for reasons. But in the end he’s encouraged to be honest about all this.

Ladybug’s also a little unnerved by this situation being a little too similar to her own, but brushes it off as coincidence.

Adrien takes a day or two to get his courage up, and talks to Marinette about it

Explains that while it had started as ‘fake dating’, he realized he actually does like her like that.

Mari’s a little worried that it’s just him feeling like that because they’ve been acting the part

But he explains that no, he’s been feeling this way for quite a while and this was just the thing to make him realize

So now they’re real dating and are 10x as obnoxious. Chloé is the only one who knows why the dynamic shifted, but everyone else is a little confused.

Of course we’re eventually going to have a reveal.

During the next Akuma attack, Chat Noir saves Marinette and takes her somewhere safe, saying ‘Okay honey, stay here and don’t get into trouble bye love you’. And kisses her on the cheek

Marinette.exe has stopped working

Chat is half-way down the block before he’s like ‘wait FUCK*

They have a talk later and Mari’s like “you’re an idiot but I love you. Obviously I love you. I fell in love with you twice like an idoit.’

Adrien’s like ‘aw, babe you had a crush on me’?

Mari just replies with ‘you fell in love with me twice too so shut up!’.

She then tells him that she’s Ladybug and Adrien.exe has stopped working

They somehow get more obnoxious

The LadyNoir flirt banter gets worse, but for the most part they can wait until out of costume to be actually romantic.

Adrienette interactions have begun to mirror the LadyNoir flirt banter. Everyone is confused again.

Things are fine for a while but then Lila stirs something up again.

She manages to get a picture of Marinette kissing Chat and shows it to the class. Yikes.

Mari lets Adrien handle this which is a bad idea

He’s just like ‘Obviously we decided that Heroes are free game. I mean, who wouldn’t want to make out with a superhero?’.

Marinette rolls with it and turns to Nino and Alya like ‘You get it, right? I mean, Nino, if Rena Rouge showed up and asked to make out, you would go for it, right?”

Alya and Nino kinda hesitantly agree. Like, the expressions Mari and Adrien give them makes them wonder if they know… but it’s not possible…

They then make it worse, Adrien saying ‘I’d love to have Ladybug show up at my window one night’. Mari then asks him ‘What if it’s Rena or Carapace?’. Adrien pauses, gives his best cat grin, and says ‘You talking one or the other or both?’

They then go off on a tangent, joking about making out with the various other heroes. Most of which are currently in the room, and have no idea how to handle this.

Eventually Chloé joins in the joking, asking ‘What, no love for Queen Bee?’. Adrien isn’t sure how to respond, but Marinette just grins and says ‘That depends on if you get the Bee again or not, now doesn’t it?”/ Chloé is not flustered and low-key screaming.

Alya and Nino ask for a double date the next weekend.

While out somewhere quiet, they confront Mari and Adrien about being Ladybug and Chat Noir. They’re all ‘idk what you mean! Why ever would you think that?”

They’re not buying that. They keep pushing and eventually they’re like ‘okay fine you’re right can we get back to dinner now?’

Cue freaking out

also cue them asking about that ‘making out with heroes’ thing. Marinette and Adrien kinda admit that while they might be Disaster Bis and open to the potential, they were mostly saying it to fuck with everyone.

Then Alya remembers ‘wait, fuck Lila!’.

She connects the dots that if Mari is Ladybug and Mari hates Lila then Lila is lying about being bffs with Ladybug and probably everything else too

Mari is a little salty about the whole situation, but knows that Lila is convincing

They come clean about the whole situation. How they both knew Lila was lying from day one, how she threatened Marinette, how Adrien was scared that speaking up would turn everyone against him too since they could turn against Mari so easily, how Lila’s harassment led to the ‘fake dating’, and how that turned to real dating.

There are a lot of apologies. There’s even more apologies because they discuss this with the rest of the class. Obviously for now they keep the ‘Mari and Adrien are Ladybug and Chat Noir’ thing secret, but they make up a half-truth of how they found out from Ladybug

There’s some debate about what to do about Lila

Pretty much everyone is ready to throwdown after hearing about how much she’s been doing behind their backs.

First thing Alya does is take down any posts involving Lila on the Ladyblog and making a new post explaining it

They also manage to talk to everyone else in school and warn them about Lila before she can even catch wind of all this

And someone just so happens to inform the teachers that perhaps they should ‘call Lila’s mom and discuss how much school she’s missing from all this ‘traveling’...’

Everyone forms an Adrien Defense Squad that is determined to keep Lila a good five feet away from him at all times.

At first, Lila literally doesn’t know what hits her

all of a sudden, everyone is ignoring her at best. The rest are glaring at her.

People don’t even apologize when they drag Adrien away from her

no one’s interested in her latest stories

The Adrien Defense Squad is also a Marinette Defense Squad, making sure that Mari has at least one person with her so that Lila can’t corner her and retaliate

her mom shows up to yell at her about how Lila lied to her about the school being closed and how she lied to the school about being traveling

Lila tries to save face around her classmates, but they’re like ‘yeah we already know’.

Of course Lila ends up Akumatized.

I mean what else is new?

Since she’s willingly an Akuma, she has pretty much complete control over her actions.

Idk what kind of Akuma she is this time. Maybe one with an actual hypnotic voice or something?

Anyway, she goes nuts. Eventually, Lila goes to far. Maybe it’s something she does or says, maybe it’s something someone accuses her of and she confesses to, either way it’s probably something involving Adrien.

At this point, suddenly, Hawkmoth recalls the Butterfly.

Lila doesn’t notice at first, just keeps going. She only notices when she’s suddenly tackled to the ground and tied up

Everyone notices how different it is, how aware she was compared to the other Akuma Victims who didn’t remember anything

They realize she was willingly Akumatized

The butterfly, however, is still there.

Lila pretty much confirms that she was willingly Akumatized when she demands it come back to her.

However, the butterfly just hovers in front of Ladybug.

Ladybug has squared up and is ready to punch a butterfly, but it doesn’t do anything.

Through a series of charades with the Butterfly…. Somehow… anyway, they learn that Hawkmoth recalled the Butterfly because he had no idea how terrible Lila was, and while he might be doing some shitty things, he has a lot of limits.

After Ladybug purifies the Butterfly and fixes whatever damage Lila caused, we have the aftermath

Lila is dealt with on several levels. The biggest thing is that even though Hawkmoth says he will no longer work with someone like her, she is to be taken out of the country just in case.

They don’t deal with Hawkmoth just yet, but he takes a break because Gabriel needs to do some parenting.

Everyone recovers from Lila’s bullshit and sorts out all the lies she told

Mari and Adrien continue dating in peace. Mostly.

Until someone decides to take up that ‘allowed to makeout with Heroes’ clause.

Overall, it’s a ‘Happily Ever After’ thing.

[luvshuas]

the art of flirting

pairing - son of aphrodite!jun x child of harmonia!reader

tags - demigod!au + one-sided (?) enemies to lovers + fluff

synopsis - flirting was almost like a second language for jun. he believed he could have anyone swooning over his words in a matter of seconds. so much so that when he’s dared to make the child of harmonia fall in love with him he accepts without hesitation. however, he didn’t consider his reputation to build a pre-existing wall between him and the other demigod

word count - 5k

through the mist masterlist

©

It was hard not to know about Jun’s reputation. Whispers about who his next ‘victim’ would be would drift around camp from time to time, but all they would do is boost Jun’s confidence. Not that he needed a confidence boost in the first place. One could say he was overly confident in his ability to flirt, but that just made it all the more fun for his friends.

“Who’s next? Jun? Truth or dare?” Soonyoung asked, though he knew exactly what Jun would choose. Jun’s grin said his answer before it even left his lips.

“You already know I want a dare, Soon.” He said, leaning against his bed post. Soonyoung’s grin widened as Jun said those words. He wasn’t planning on giving him an impossible dare; no, it was merely meant to see if Jun could live up to his brags.

“I dare you to make that Harmonia kid fall in love with you.” Soonyoung’s grin turned into a smirk, but Jun remained unbothered. It wasn’t like him to make someone fall in love with him. Sure, he flirted enough to cause feelings, but never enough for it to go that far. Jun stood up from his position against the bedpost and made his way towards the door of the Aphrodite cabin. “Where are you going?” Soonyoung stared after him.

Jun grinned,”To make the child of Harmonia fall in love with me.” He stepped into the cool night air, and made his way towards the campfire. In all honesty, he had no clue whether you’d be at the fire or sound asleep in the cabin where the children of minor gods and goddesses stayed. The closer Jun got to the fire the less hope he had, until he caught a glimpse of you standing up behind another demigod.

Apologizing, Jun pushed past some of his fellow campers to try to catch up to you. “Hey! Wait up!” He called after you, hoping you’d slow your brisk pace. Without realizing it, your pace had slowed from a quick, angry mum walk to a saunter slow enough for Jun to finally catch up to you.

“Damned charm speak.” You murmured quietly. You kept your gaze fixed on the dirt path below you as you walked alongside him in silence. You knew what he wanted, but so would anyone if he walked up to them. During all the years you had spent at camp you had come to learn that Jun didn’t go up to people in the hopes of starting a new friendship, it just wasn’t like him. “What do you want Junhui?” You asked, keeping your gaze on the dark path.

“Oh we’re using full names?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not calling you by a nickname. We’re not friends.” You squinted into the darkness, hoping to make out the outline of your cabin. You knew you were close to it, but it felt as if the building moved farther back with every step you took. “You can go back to your cabin, Junhui.” You suggested, noticing he was still walking in step with you.

“You’re probably right. It’s getting late, but you also shouldn’t be walking alone in the dark. Who knows what’s out there? What if a cyclops got you?” His voice quieted as he said ‘cyclops’, though the look you gave him was far more dangerous than whatever monster he has come across.

“The camp is protected, dumbass. Nothing's gonna jump out and eat me.” You gestured to the space around you, indicating that nothing would be lurking in the shadows. You let out a thankful sigh as your cabin -- or your safe space away from Jun -- finally came into view.

“I guess. Alright, I’ll come get you tomorrow!” Jun said, quickly taking off afterwards. A smile spread across his face as he heard your protests. He knew this would be a challenge, but what’s the fun in giving up when presented with a little bump in the road? Jun slowed down his pace as he neared the dying fire. Most of the campers had returned to their cabins out of fear that they’d stay out too late and be forced into kitchen duty by one of the Furies.

Jun quietly slipped back into the now quiet Aphrodite cabin. He figured his friends would’ve been kicked out once Jun left to find you, but he didn’t particularly care. Jun wandered through the dark cabin until he felt his knees hit the edge of an empty bed -- his bed. He felt a tinge of excitement for tomorrow as he climbed into his bed, sleep beginning to tug at his consciousness.

_____

You weren’t the least bit surprised when one of your cabin mates shook you awake to tell you Jun was waiting at the door for you. You half expected him to give up with his obvious pursuit of you with how uninterested you acted last night, but if he really came all the way to your cabin then maybe you had underestimated his determination. You pulled a jacket onto your arms and made your way to the front of the cabin.

“Wen Junhui, do I need to directly tell you to get lost for you to leave me alone?” You asked, opening the front door to step out onto the wooden deck that wrapped around the cabin. Jun stood up from where he was sitting on the steps the moment he heard your voice. A smile spread across his face as he took in your messy hair and still-tired eyes. He could only describe the way you looked as homey.

“Good morning, love. I’m here to take you to get breakfast.” Jun extended his hand for you to take. He watched you consider his offer before you turned around to retreat back into your cabin. “Hey! Are you seriously just going back to bed?” He asked, bewildered that you’d turn down breakfast with him.

“Chill. I’m just gonna change.” You rolled your eyes, entering your cabin once again. You thought it was strange how determined he was, but then again he was like that ever since you met him on your first day at camp. Jun had arrived a year before you, and in no time he was claimed by Aphrodite. His flirtatious habits and charming personality had been a dead giveaway for his parentage.

You tried to be quick with changing and making your bed. You always thought of your need for harmony, especially in domestic settings, as a curse from your mother. After checking yourself in the mirror one last time you returned to the deck where Jun was still waiting. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me. We’re not going on a date, unless you want to?” Jun smirked, his last sentence subtly suggesting that you and him should go on a date.

You walked past him, “You’re here to take me to breakfast, not to flirt with me.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Jun quickly moved to catch up with you. He walked proudly beside you, as if  you were a gem he’d finally gotten his hands on. The walk to the mess hall was short, and, much to your surprise, quiet. Jun hadn’t said a word as he opened the door for you and followed you through the buffet.

“Go to the Aphrodite table, Junhui.” You said, taking a seat at your cabin’s designated table. You nudged Jun’s elbow away from your plate, but he didn’t budge. He sat there as still as a rock as you continued to eat your breakfast. “If you’re gonna stay here then stop staring at me while I eat. It’s weird.”

“Why won’t you call me Jun?” He asked, lifting his head from his arms. After years of being called by a nickname he wasn’t used to hearing his full name. Jun didn’t necessarily mind you using his full name, but he just found it strange that you opted for the long version over what everyone else called him.

“Nicknames are for friends. You’re just an annoyance.” You stated matter-of-factly. You bit into the last piece of toast you had on your plate to suppress a small smile as he groaned. You could admit that you were slightly impressed by his determination to get you to like him, but at the end of the day you still knew nothing good would come from falling for Jun.

“If I’m so annoying then why’d you agree to go to breakfast with me?”

“You made someone wake me up, and I would’ve gone eventually. You just happened to ask so I agreed.”

“I think you like me.” Jun smiled as you stood from your seat, walking over to the table of dirty plates. He stayed seated while watching you head towards the door. He knew he got you. 1-0, he thought.

_____

After your breakfast ‘date’ with Jun you hadn’t seen him for the entire day leading up to a game of capture the flag. The spontaneous announcement that the entire camp would be participating in the game didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Demigods gathered in groups around the entrance to the forest where the game would take place. In order to separate cabins names were pulled out of a hat. The red team was made up of Athena, Apollo, Zeus, Demeter, Hecate, Hades, and your cabin. The blue team had Ares, Poseidon, Hermes, Hephaestus, Dionysus, Nemesis, and finally Aphrodite.

“Let’s make a bet.” Jun said, quickly finding you in the sea of identical orange t-shirts. “If blue team wins then you and I are going on a date, and if your team wins then you can decide on whatever you want.”

“Deal.” You stuck out your hand for him to shake and finalize the bet. You didn’t have any intention to lose to Jun, and with the cabins on your team you didn’t expect to lose. A grin spread across Jun’s face as he shook your hand. To anyone who managed to get close to him his smirk would’ve given away hints that he had something up his sleeve, and with the Hermes cabin on his team there was no telling what that could be.

Once both teams had placed their flags on opposite sides of the forest a conch shell was blown, signaling the start of the game. Demigods on both sides took off running through the woods, using whatever powers their parents gave them to their advantage. You stayed behind to watch the flag with a few other demigods while the majority of your team raced to find the other flag.

Everything was dead silent around the flag for around ten minutes. Then the sound of metal piercing wood invaded the quiet space. Your eyes widened as you took in the grappling hook buried in the tree adjacent of you. You stayed crouched in the bushes as the sound of metal against the cord rang out. Neither you nor the other demigods watching over the flag made any mood to stop the two boys from the opposing team from taking your flag. You didn’t need to.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t seem bothered by two people planning on stealing your flag.” Jun said, suddenly crouching next to you. You tore your gaze from the two opposing teammates as they dangled from the rope traps your team had set up to Jun. You hadn’t heard him sneak up behind you so to say his sudden appearance startled you was an understatement. You fell on your butt as you tried to grab the knife from the sheath handing on your hip. “Woah, no need to stab me. I’m just here to get your flag.” Jun raised his hands in surrender.

“Wen Junhui you almost gave me a heart attack!” You whispered harshly. You could’ve sworn he was able to hear the louding thumping of your heart with the smirk he gave you.

“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t otherwise I’d have to go on a date with a corpse.”

You rolled your eyes at his pout, “You haven’t ev-” The horn signaling the end of the game cut off your sentence. You shot Jun a confused look, but only received a shrug from him. The same infuriating smirk from earlier was once again plastered on his lips.

You stood up from the ground and followed Jun back to the front of the forest, leaving your teammates to cut down the two demigods who were still caught in the rope trap. Your nerves quickly began to overtake you the closer you got to the entrance of the forest. You scoured your mind for any memory of whether or not your team’s flag had been taken. You surely would’ve noticed it was gone when you were leaving with Jun. You tried to convince yourself that your team had won as you and Jun joined the crowd of demigods.

“It was a very close call!” The camp director’s voice silenced the whispers among the sea of orange campers. “But the winner is...blue!” Cheers erupted from the winning team. Congratulations, cheers, and even grumbles echoed throughout the camp.

“I’ll be at your cabin by eight.” Jun smirked, patting your back. You turned to complain, but he was already walking in the opposite direction. The gods were seemingly against you when it came to not falling into Jun’s hands.

You still had four hours your dreadful date with Jun. A date, you thought. More like an elaborate plan to ruin me. But that was the problem. No matter how hard you thought about it you could never figure out why he was going so far to just leave you high and dry in the end. Of course the possibility of this all being a dare had crossed your mind, especially with the way he approached you the other night, but in all your years at camp with him you’d never seen him so determined.

Your mind clouded with explanations as to why he could be doing this as you wandered back towards your cabin. “Someone doesn’t look very harmonious today.” Soonyoung said as you entered your cabin. Him being the son of Eos, the goddess of dawn, also landed him in the cabin full of children of minor Greek deities.

“You wouldn’t be happy either if you had to go on a date with someone known for playing with other’s feelings.”

“A date? With who?”

“Wen Junhui.”

Soonyoung stared at you in shock, “You agreed to go on a date with him? Wait but you’re supposed to be hard to get! This isn’t going to be any fun if he gets you so easily.” Soonyoung groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance. You didn’t have the slightest clue what he was rambling about.

“What do you mean by ‘fun’?” You asked. You would’ve never guessed that Soonyoung, one of your own cabin mates, would have a hand in Jun trying to get you to fall for him. Soonyoung fiddled with his thumbs, clearly growing nervous under your stare. “Are you the reason he’s been trying so hard to get me to like him?”

“When you put it that way then yes, but it’s his fault! If he wouldn’t be so cocky about his ability to flirt then I would’ve never dared him to make you fall in love with him!” Soonyoung chuckled nervously.

“You dared him to what?”

“Make you fall in love with him?”

You sighed, trying to calm down the growing anger building up inside of you. “Ok, well, two can play at that game.” You gave Soonyoung a thin-lipped smile as you left to your room within the cabin. “If he thinks he can make me fall in love with him then I’ll just give him a taste of his own medicine.”

_____

The hour of the date came by slowly. You wanted to look your best to impress Jun, and when he showed up at your cabin door he was definitely impressed. “You know, I really think you like me.” Jun said upon seeing you. You shrugged as the two of you began to walk in step. You had no clue where Jun was taking you, but that gave you a tinge of excitement. You followed Jun down the dirt paths until you could see the lake coming into view. How cliche, you thought.

“I know this is where most dates happen, but there’s really no where else to go in camp. I tried making it kind of pretty thought.” Jun said, leading you across the sand and towards a blanket. The setting sun cast hues of red and orange across the water. If you didn’t absolutely despise Jun you thought you might really enjoy the date. Jun brushed some sand that had been blown onto the blanket back off before offering you a place next to him.

“You really outdid yourself, Junhui.” You smiled as you sat down next to him. You leaned back on your arms, taking in the sunset. Jun couldn’t help but watch you. It wasn’t like him to take anyone on a date, even if said date was won through a bet, but he felt himself wanting to do it again. He found satisfaction in planning something that would impress you.

“Still not at the nicknames stage in our relationship yet, huh?” Jun said, keeping his eyes fixed on your profile. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t find himself attracted to you. You kept him on the edge of his seat, dying of curiosity everytime your mouth opened.

“You wish we were in a relationship.” You laughed, pushing his arm. Jun couldn’t help but smile. A part of him felt regret that he only pursued you because of a dare.

“I think it’s the other way around.” He said. Jun turned his gaze to the lake in front of the two of you. The sun was starting to hide behind the horizon as the evening grew dark. “We should go back once it gets dark.”

This time it’s your turn to watch his profile. Before then you’d never really looked at him closely. From afar he was undeniably handsome, but the closer you looked at him the more his sharp features looked elegant, especially in the orange light. You felt yourself wanting to trace the highpoints of his face, if only to get to know him better. In the four years you had been at camp -- Jun having arrived a year before you -- you never thought to let yourself get close to someone like Jun. He broke hearts, you’d remind yourself. Don’t get your heart broken by a demigod.

“Thank you for taking me to watch the sunset. It was really nice, even though all you did was lay out a blanket.” Your heart momentarily stopped when Jun turned from the water to meet your gaze. You despised how attractive he was, but you more so despised that you wouldn’t let yourself fall for him, opting to play his little game of love instead of just giving into him.

“I’d like to see you think of a better spontaneous date.” Jun scoffed. Silence washed over the two of you as your attention locked onto the sunset. You used to imagine going on dates like this and watching the sunset with someone who you were head over heels for, but instead you had Jun. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Challenge accepted. I’ll come find you sometime this week and we’ll go on a date.” You were speaking before you could comprehend what you were saying. Don’t be nervous, you told yourself. It’s all to play him the same way he’s playing you. Jun’s attention returned back to you, a foreign feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He assumed this is what butterflies felt like. The fluttering feeling spread throughout his body like a blissful poison the more he thought about the prospect of you taking him on a date instead of the other way around. Maybe this was beginning to become less of a dare for him and more of a personal want.

Your sudden movement to get up from the blanket startled Jun, pulling him from his thoughts. “Hey! What’re you doing?” He asked quickly. His brain was racing a hundred miles per hour as he tried to think of anything that would get you to stay with him a little longer.

“It’s getting dark, Junhui. We have to go, unless you want to get caught and put on kitchen duty for the next week?” You reached a hand out to him to pull him up from the blanket. Jun, who clearly didn’t want to leave, grabbed your hand and let you pull him up. “Don’t be such a baby. You’ll probably end up bothering me tomorrow since you can’t seem to stay away from me.” You said teasingly. In truth you had begun to enjoy Jun’s constant presence the past few days.

“It’s not considered bothersome if you like it.” He said, winking at you. You felt your heart jump as he held onto your hand, leading you back towards the cabins.

“Aren’t you forgetting the blanket?”

“I took it from Soonyoung so it’s his responsibility.”

_____

The days following your date with Jun you tried your hardest to avoid him to keep true to your promise of a spontaneous date. Well it’d be spontaneous for him, but not so much for you. Staying clear of Jun was easier said than done, especially once he figured out you were avoiding him. It was both terrifying and amazing how he never failed to end up in the same area as you.

“Wait! Why are you avoiding me? I thought our date went well.” His usual smile was contorted into a frown as he spoke to you. It was strange not seeing his smile plastered to his face. You hated it. The way the corners of his mouth edged down or how his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t want to admit it, but you felt evil being the reason his face wasn’t beaming with joy as he looked at you.

“I was planning a date, and I didn’t want you to figure out what it was.” You mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. The frown that was previously on his face quickly turned back into its normal smile. Jun knew he was in too deep the moment his heart began to pound against his chest at the idea of another date with you. He couldn’t figure out why he liked you so much. It felt normal to him.

“Oh, in that case keep ignoring me.” Jun’s smile beamed at you despite your confused look. “Hold on, I meant like keep planning the date ignoring.” You couldn’t help smiling at his flustered attempt to back-track.

“I know what you meant. I’m just teasing you.”

Jun’s attention was pulled from you as he heard his name being called. In a matter of seconds Soonyoung had run up to Jun, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Everything ok in love-ville?” He asked, a shit-eating grin already starting to take shape.

You rolled your eyes, “We’re not in a relationship.” Your eyes met Jun’s has you spoke. You could’ve sworn you thought you saw something flash in them. What is he thinking, you wondered. Jun turned to look at Soonyoung once again. His face mimicked his friend’s.

“You know I can’t be tied down, Soon. It’d make the Jun fanclub sad.” Jun dragged a finger from his eye down his cheek as if he was crying, earning a barking laugh from Soonyoung. You felt a pang in your chest. He was still the Jun you knew. The same boy who flirted mercilessly with anyone who looked at him. The same boy known for breaking hearts. How would you be any different?

“I gotta go. See you later, Soonyoung.” You began walking off, not bothering to acknowledge Jun’s confused questioning. He’s Wen Junhui, you reminded yourself. He’d break your heart before you could even chip at his own.

As you walked back to your cabin you made a promise to yourself. You’d cut him off, and the past few days that you spent with him glued to your side would become a buried memory. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and you can’t teach Jun to tie himself down.

Jun groaned and pushed Soonyoung’s arm off of him. He knew he said something stupid in order to protect his pride. “What do you want Soonyoung?”

“Just wanted to check in on how your dare is going, and it didn’t look to be going too smoothly.” Soonyoung shrugged. His uncaring demeanor bothered Jun, though he couldn’t pick out why.

“Whatever.” Jun said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Seems like you’re bothered about them leaving,” Soonyoung gasped dramatically. “Has Wen Junhui developed feelings for someone?” Jun shot him a glare.

“No, I don’t get crushes. I have to go to the archery range. See you later, Soon.” Jun walked off without waiting for Soonyoung to respond. He knew his friend would’ve seen straight through his lie if he kept the conversation going.

_____

As the days passed by Jun began to miss you. He tried time after time to speak to you, but everytime you would spot him you’d immediately turn in the other direction. He was sure you wanted nothing to do with him, but could he blame you? He said he wouldn’t settle into a relationship right in front of you after you had told him you’d take him on a date. This was entirely his fault.

“I need your help.” Jun fiddled with his fingers, keeping his gaze on his feet. He knew he’d never hear the end of this, but he was becoming desperate to just talk to you.

“With what?” His voice sounded amused. “What could Wen Junhui need help with?”

“I need you to ask someone down to the beach tonight.”

“That’s it? Alright, who?”

“The child of Harmonia. They won’t say no to you. Hell, no one would; you’re a son of Zeus, Mingyu.” Jun knew Mingyu didn’t like using his parentage to get what he wanted, but it was such a rare thing for Jun to ask for someone’s help that Mingyu couldn’t turn him down.

“You’ll owe me after this.” Mingyu smiled, patting Jun’s back. He would be lying if he wasn’t the least bit curious as to who you were, especially if Jun liked you enough to ask for someone’s help. Jun felt relief surge through him as Mingyu agreed to help.

“Thank you so much! Ask them to meet you at around 7 o’clock.” A giddy smile spread across Jun’s face. He was finally talking to you tonight. He was finally going to fix everything. He just had to make it a few more hours.

Jun thanked Mingyu a few more times before stepping out of his cabin. Briefly he caught a glimpse of you heading towards the archery range, but he didn’t feel the need to try to rush after you. “Everything will be fixed.” He mumbled to himself, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

_____

You waited down at the beach for Mingyu. The cool air nipped at your skin as the sun began to set below the horizon. The longer he took the more you considered just leaving instead of possibly getting stood up by Mingyu. Yet you stayed and continued waiting for the boy to come find you down at the beach. “Did he electrocute himself or am I being stood up?” You asked aloud. You were sure there was no one at the beach besides you, but his voice was unmistakable.

“No, cause I’m here.” Jun stood up from where he was sitting. Any reasonable person would’ve felt terrified seeing someone suddenly appear from who knows where, but you didn’t blink twice.

“What do you want, Junhui?” You felt your heart drop as he stepped closer to you.

“I need to talk to you. Please just stay and listen.”

“I’m here to meet Mingyu so it’ll have to wait till another time.” You crossed your arms. You studied him for a moment, taking in the pleading look he had in his eyes.

“About that…” Jun’s sentence trailed off. You got stood up. Great, you thought. “In his defense, I asked him to ask you to come here!”

“I’m never trusting anyone here ever again,” you sighed. “But what do you want to say?”

Jun smiled, relieved that you were letting him explain himself. “The other week, when I said I couldn’t be tied down, it was a lie. I wasn’t thinking, and I knew that Soonyoung would make my life a living hell if I didn’t say something cocky like that. The truth is that I do like you. A lot.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re not exactly known for being a picture perfect boyfriend.” Your words sounded harsher than what you intended. Jun’s smile faltered. You were right.

“Have you noticed I’ve been trying to chase after you every time I saw you? And why would I ask Kim Mingyu to help me get you down here to talk to me if I didn’t mean what I was saying?” You paused. He had a point, but you still had a hard time believing him.

“I don’t blame you for being hesitant, but I swear to you I’m being truthful.” Jun reached out to grab your hand, and you let him take it. You searched his face for any hints of deception.

“Okay Jun,” you said quietly. “I’ll believe you.”

If your past self could see you, holding onto Jun’s hands and looking into his eyes, you would’ve called yourself stupid. And maybe you were stupid for beginning to fall for him, but he was falling just as hard for you.

[collective-laugh]

The Parent Trap - Request

Warnings: Swearing, tomfoolery

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 2100 and some change

So I wrote this with the intent of leaving the child(ren)’s origin ambiguous (whether they were birthed or adopted, etc.) and I didn’t give any of them names, but I did assign them genders and personalities. You either get adorable little children or asshole teenagers. No in between.

Also, the MC is gender ambiguous and referred to as ‘Baba’ by all of the children.

I really, really loved this prompt and it was a lot of fun to write!

Asra

Asra is basically this kid’s parent anyway.

He lets her “help out” around the shop and she likes giving back far too much change to customers she think are nice

MC and their kid, this little girl with the brightest eyes he’s ever seen and two little braids adorning her head like a crown, and it couldn’t be more obvious when she tries to set Asra and the Apprentice up

She’s too young to remember when they were together the first go round, and the Apprentice still doesn’t remember any of that, but that doesn’t deter the little girl at all

While she’s playing outside with the other kids, she walks over to the Bread Man’s shop and asks him for his “finest loaf o’ pumpkin bread”

Obviously, it’s bread daddy, and he gives her best piece of pumpkin bread goddammit

She manages to hide it in the little satchel Asra gave her, and she only eats a little off it, she swears, and joins her friends in their game of tag

She has this whole date planned out in that little head of hers. She wanted to light candles but her Baba is smart enough to keep the candles out of her reach, so she settles on putting two mismatched plates on the dining table and the slightly lumpy pumpkin bread in the center

Baba and Asra are downstairs in the shop, chatting together, and she clears her throat as loudly as her little vocal cords will allow her

“Dinner is served!” She announces, and Asra grins and Baba smiles and shakes their head

“Will you be joining us, milady?” Baba asks, still leaning on the counter

She scoffs, “No. It’s a date.”

Baba lets their head fall in their hands, and they laugh, before looking back at her, “A date, hm? Is it for Asra and the nice Bread Man?”

She just stands there, fuming at how horribly her plan was proceeding, and she scoffs again, “No! It’s for you and Asra.”

They both laugh this time, and Asra says, to Baba, “Well, shall we?”

Baba pauses a second, like they’re considering, but they smile, “We shall.”

She wouldn’t admit to peeping in on them eating their bread, but it was definitely worth it when she saw Baba lean across the table to kiss Asra.

Nadia

Nadia doesn’t know the Apprentice has a child at first - much less two little ones

They have a four year old and a twelve year old

She learns when the Apprentice comes to the palace for the first time, one child on their hand, and the other skipping ahead of them

The twelve year old boy asks far too many questions and the four year old boy is far too attracted to shiny things, but Nadia can’t help but fall in love with both of them. While the Apprentice is doing much of their searching, she volunteers to watch the both of them

And, obviously, the children fall right back in love with her, and devise their plan

The elder of the two decides to work on Nadia, and commands the younger to work on their Baba, because, hey, who can resist their baby?

They go searching for Nadia and Baba, respectively, but end up meeting at the fountain

4 asks, “Did you get them here?”

12 just shrugs and says that he found them at the fountain

The two of them get closer to listen in on the conversation

Baba says, “I don’t even remember either of them being born, Nadia...I don’t really know if they’re of my body.” They sigh, and the boys look at one another, “I love them, more than anything, don’t get me wrong...I just…”

Nadia puts a hand under Baba’s chin, and tells them, “You are the best parent I’ve ever met, regardless.”

And Baba’s little boys squeal with Nadi leans in to kiss them.

Julian

Julian was understandably nervous when he found out that the Apprentice was the parent of a lovely little boy...and even more nervous when he found out that lovely little boy was thirteen years old and nearing the puberty years

Julian knew that more than others, and the kid most certainly did not like him whatsoever when their ‘Baba’ tried to introduce them

But, the Apprentice does their best to make him feel better, and truly, he believes them, and he wants to be their for this kid

So, basically, Julian and MC were already together when MC’s kid met Julian

It isn’t until the boy sneaks out in the middle of the night, after the whole “you’re not my dad!” spiel, and Julian manages to find him before he’s gotten into too much trouble, if you discount the fact he was currently being held up by a pair of ruffians

Julian pulls a switcherooney and manages to get him away from them, running like the goddamn wind

That’s the kind of switch that lets the kid know that maybe this guy wasn’t so bad

The first time Baba kicks Julian out is after a really bad fight, and the kid only catches part of it, something about commitment and sacrifice

Julian leaves, slamming the door behind him, and Baba just breaks down in the kitchen, crying

The kid obviously checks on Baba first, making sure they’re alright, but after they try to tell him to just go back to bed, he sneaks out of his window to try and follow Julian

He finds him, sitting by the docks near Auntie Mazelinka’s house, pushing the eyepatch off his head and ugly crying

Julian basically tells him to go back home, that it was dangerous, and acts like he wasn’t just sobbing by the water in the pale moonlight

The kid has had it up to here with the damn theatrics, and he’s probably the most blunt in telling him to go back, that they belong together, and he looks the most unimpressed, but he’s also probably the most genuine

He sees how happy Julian makes his parent, and...he’s not as opposed to calling him ‘Papa’ as he puts on

Muriel

So Muriel

He doesn’t like the Apprentice, regardless of how much they show up and have supper with him and bring him groceries and talk to him

Fuck no

Okay, so he does like them, and values their company, but their kids give him a headache

They’ve got identical twins, and they’re these teenage boys who think they own the world and compete only with the formerly late count in arrogance, and Inanna fucking loves them, for some reason

The Apprentice - their “Baba” - just smiles when they crack jokes or chastises them when they take a joke too far, and is a fair parent, if a little lax

Muriel honestly does the “Office” camera look (you know the one) whenever they do some stupid shit

Once, whenever Muriel tried to talk to one of them, calling him by name, the other would respond but Muriel knows they’re fucking with him, and then it happens again, until it happens a grand total of fourteen times in the span of their two day visit

Muriel’s just done with these little shits, but MC keeps apologizing for their behavior and giving them That Look™, which has them withering under their stare

They see how much Muriel likes Baba and how much Baba likes Muriel, and figure that they might as well use their “super awesome twin power to hook two of their favorite people up” and the other sneers and says, “call it ‘hook up’ again and I’ll put leeches in your bed”

So, much like Nadia’s, one of the twins heads out to get Muriel and the other works on Baba

He has a note written in Baba’s hand (because obviously they have their handwriting down pat) and gives it to Muriel, and immediately he’s burning like a thousand suns as the implication that the Apprentice wanted to meet him in the market for...a date?

Muriel kind of sets into overdrive, and something very, very similar is happening at home (The Other One is convincing Baba that there’s a sale in the market, so, not too similar but hey)

The twin leads Muriel into town, and, like the bosses they are, slip off in the market when Baba sees Muriel

Before they can get an earful from Baba, they’re already gone

Muriel mentions the note, and Baba is confused as shit until they realize their sons were up to it again, but they end up shopping together, spending the afternoon together in a nice, amicable manner

Also they kiss for the first time but

Portia

So the Apprentice has the most adorable baby son, and Portia melts everytime she sees the little toddler just toddling along

Portia is ecstatic when they bring the little three year old into the palace when Countess Nadia hires them, and Portia is more than excited to watch him when she’s not helping with the investigation

She loves children, but wasn’t too fussed about the whole baby-making, considering the stories she’s heard

So, she loves this ready-made kid, but is kind of worried about when the mystery is solved

She genuinely likes the Apprentice and wants a relationship, but she doesn’t exactly know how to tell them that without making it all about the kid

Now, the boy loves Portia as much as Portia loves him, and has an infinite amount of love for Pepi

The Apprentice is chilling with Portia just outside her cottage, having a picnic, the kid playing with Pepi, who’s careful not to use her claws, and licks him until he squeals

The Apprentice laughs, and they and Portia sit around them, drinking lemonade, and it’s quiet, and nice, and Portia is soaking up the sun, despite the fact that she would burn like a lobster if she was out too long

Then, the Apprentice is ecstatic when the kid manages to pull himself up without a table or anything and toddle over to the both of them, babbling Baba’s name, and then…

“Baba?” He plops down on Portia’s lap and she just

M E L T S

But then it’s a little awkward because oh my gods, this kid thinks I’m his parent, and his actual parent is sitting right here

But the Apprentice just leans over and pecks her on the lips, and she realizes it’s not that bad after all

Lucio

Lucio is definitely used to being the sassiest, most arrogant, person in the room

And then he meets the Apprentice, and he’s like, head over heels, but he can’t really, like...make a move, considering he’s dead

But, when he comes back to life, after stealing their body (he gave it back) he’s pulling out all the stops

And this person will. Not. love him.

He thinks it might be him at first, might be that he’s too extra, so he tries to rectify it by sending a carriage of roses straight to their shop

It isn’t until he comes down to the shop for himself that he realizes that they have a teenage kid - at first he thought it was the Apprentice’s apprentice - who looks at him like he’s an annoying scab

They’re a smartass, and make glib comments, and the only reason they don’t have their head up their ass is because their nose is so high in the air

But they love their parent and try to close the door on Lucio because ‘leave them alone, goddammit’

And almost immediately, the Apprentice tells them, “Swear! Who’s at the door?” They come to the door, and mutter, “Fuck.”

Their kid just has this smug look on this face, and the Apprentice invites him in,

So now Lucio’s the smug one, while the kid’s the one who has this fish out of water look

“Baba, is that really the best -”

“Hush now, and go put the kettle on. We’ve got company.”

So, this is basically the parent trap but...with Meredith and the dad instead of the mom and dad

The Apprentice’s kid can’t stand Lucio, just because they’re so similar in personality, and has heard of all the shitty things he’s done, so they’ll stop at nothing to make sure the Apprentice doesn’t fall for him

They fall for him

Lucio makes increasing visits to the shop, and their Baba visits the palace a ridiculous amount of times, and they just don’t understand it

Eventually, they come to terms with the fact that their Baba’s “playing the field” and whatnot, and they and Lucio get in some of the worst arguments or funniest conversations, and the Apprentice is glad to see their two favorite people getting along

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/saturn-pluto-controlled-collapse-or-police-state-or-civil-war-or-regeneration/

Saturn/Pluto: Controlled collapse? Or Police State? Or Civil War? Or REGENERATION

Saturn/Pluto: Controlled collapse? Or Police State? Or Civil War? Or REGENERATION

By Ann Kreilkamp

I sit here wondering whether we’re headed into a controlled collapse (this seems to be Trump’s preference) or an even more massive, intrusive, and controlling federal government — or both. The big question for now: Is the second necessary in order to achieve the first?And if both, which comes first?

Because the other obvious alternative is, of course, collapse, chaos, pure and simple, and prolonged, and with it, civil war. To be avoided.

Of course my preference is the fourth, lesser known alternative: regeneration, likely following a controlled collapse, and I will add, through permaculture practiced everywhere, horizontally networked, rural, suburban and urban, cooperatively, by individuals, families, neighbors, small connected groups, all linked locally and exchanging energy with small, locally owned businesses, and all of us learning from and growing with Nature herself.

All these future alternatives loom as powerful reverberations from mid-January’s once-every-35 year Saturn/Pluto conjunction, this one in Saturn’s ruling sign Capricorn, ratchet through the interstices of human civilization.

The last time we had a run on the stock market and near-collapse of the fiat money system was in early 2008, just as Pluto had entered Capricorn. Pluto doesn’t leave Capricorn for Aquarius until 2025. Still plenty of time for Pluto to further demolish and/or radically reorganize long-standing, top-down, hierarchical Capricornian structures.

Meanwhile, Saturn enters radical, innovative, group-minded, airy Aquarius on March 23, for a test run through late June 2020. Let us welcome three months of experimentation with new Saturnine forms for the Plutonian life force to flow through. I’ll get back to that, but first:

Bottom Line: What this virus psy-op scare has done is force humanity to disgorge all the F.E.A.R. (False Evidence Appearing Real) that has been building/seething/germinating/rotting in the collective unconscious since the birth of this nation in 1776!

It’s purgation time, folks, and hopefully we will at some point be able to look back and recognize this astonishing trauma, when whatever we took for granted suddenly blinks out — as our prolonged collective healingprocess, during which we as a species released enough pent-up fear to let go and allow in LOVE, the only other real emotion.

(Anger, remember, is but denied, projected fear.)

Fear contracts, controls. Love expands, allows. Fear perceives scarcity, distrustful. Love knows abundance, trusts in the benevolence of the universe. The choice between fear and love is truly ours, each of us individually, and it must be made moment by moment, with every breath. When enough of us are intentionally and consciously letting go of fear to allow in love, the frequency field of Love, which both fills and fuels the universe, can build, stabilize, flourish, pump its naturally healing energy throughout our sad, addled, restless, medicated, exhausted society.

How the U.S. especially works with the Saturn/Pluto conjunction is key. Because ours is the world’s largest economy, and our current president, Donald J. Trump, is the one other national leaders look to to provide the model for destroying long-planned globalism and returning to nationalism, where every country “makes itself great again.”

(That would be a good start. And let’s go further: decentralize down to first, our sovereign selves, and then to our sovereign localities, horizontally networked into sovereign bioregions, circling the world through our small permaculture farms.)

Over the next five years Pluto is returning to its natal place, at 27° Capricorn in the U.S. chart, for the very first time, after 248 years.The first return of any planet to its natal place in the lifetime of, in this case, a nation, is a period of time when that planet’s meaning finally becomes evident. And what is the meaning of Pluto? Pluto equals Power. The primal power of the life force which can be used creatively ((as “power from within”) abused (as “power over another”) and/or refused (cf. the toxic internal energy build-up of those who feel victimized rather than celebrate their sovereign selves.)

Pluto can be used to control through force or to encourage and empower. Which shall it be? Clearly, our nation has been on a war-mongering rampagesince its inception, however disguised as “good” and “heroic” — and our military industrial complex dominates our own economy while plundering, occupying and enslaving much of the rest of the world. The U.S. has historically acted like a testosterone-driven teenager; other nations, especially those older and wiser than ours, know that you don’t use Pluto that way without its power blowing back at you. In short, during this first Pluto return the U.S. government will either learn from its past, clean out the corruption and dismantle much of its fattened bureaucracy or, likely, die off, in order for this land and its peoples to begin again.

But meanwhile, we can be glad that, thanks to Pluto, the nasty fear-based gunk that has been stored in the collective unconscious has finally surfaced. And, as I mentioned in another post, we can be glad that the very successful media operation to spread fear and panic has finally united the entire world! Too bad it took fear of a virus to do it. Not even “climate change” was enough to galvanize the public into changing behavior. Heck, end of the world in ten years? No worries! Party on! But make that fear one directed towards our own bodies, and does so now, right now, in the present moment, when so many bodies have been either ignored or turned into machines at the gym; right now, when so many bodies have been stuffed  with junk food, fast food, processed food, sugary and alcoholic drinks and legal (pharmaceutical) and other drugs (not to mention chem trailed air, fluoridated water, denatured or chemicalized soil used for growing GMO “food”)) for decades, well then, no wonder the Fear builds, takes over the mind.

Scene at one grocery store yesterday: besides no toilet paper, all the frozen pizzas gone. All the meat, gone. Canned goods, gone. But the produce section? Especially the organic produce section? No problem, fully stocked.

Meanwhile, we in Green Acres Villageare preparing for planting as usual, carefully placing seeds in soil blocks and glad there are “no more than ten people” grouped to live here in these three houses. I wonder: will they enforce a “lock-down” to the extent that we aren’t even supposed to venture outside? Not even into our own yards? If so, how can we plant our seedlings?

Every person on this planet where the “corona virus” has infected the collective mind has been affected in some way. For me, it’s economic concerns: Our Air B&B is currently down, given that IU is down as well as all restaurants and bars and cultural events and most of our paying guests come here because of our proximity to the university and all that it offers. And it’s concern about whether enough rents will come in next month to pay all the expenses, given that some podmates in the gig economy have been thrown out of work. For housemate Dan, it’s realizing he can’t get his car back from the high school class where they were going to fix it, since they suddenly and unexpectedly closed down for the entire semester! For Charisse, it’s switching from delivering people where they want to go to delivering take-out for them. For Andreas, one of the lucky ones who is on contract for his work, it’s trying very hard not to worry about the scary virus. On and on.

I do notice that those of us who, as elders, have lived through other extremely strong events (like JFK assasination and 911) are more likely to be able to weather this latest unfolding Plutonian collective trauma that appears to be easily unraveling whatever fragile cultural/political/economic structures remained.

Today, notice that Mars is within two degrees of Jupiter, making everything that happens bigger, more sweeping. Jupiter itself is now at 22°, only two degrees from Pluto. So the three planets are in a tight four-degree conjunction. Boom!

Meanwhile, Capricorn Moon creeps up to cross the stellium, moving at a rate of one degree every two hours, TODAY and TONIGHT..

In his presser today and yesterday, Trump assumed that this virus scare will begin to fade in two weeks, IF we all cooperate in keeping our social distance and staying home. Astrologically, it looks like his timing is about right. And it looks like this virus scare scam is actually uniting Americans, and not just through F.E.A.R.: we are all changing our behavior for at least these two weeks, no matter how polarized our silly external “identities” or internal “perspectives.” Bingo!

What’s next? Well, let’s just fast-forward to December 21, when Jupiter finally enters Aquarius and Saturn follows, close behind, to meet up at 0° Aquarius on December 21, Winter Solstice, 2020! Can you believe the timing? Astonishing.

And fascinating, to note that this date will also be the three year delta for Trump’s first EO, the one that threw down the gauntlet on the horrific hidden corruption of human trafficking that has been secretly poisoning society.

And that, folks, that time when Saturn and Jupiter meet up with each other in their own Great Conjunction (every 20 years) now in Aquarius, is when the experimentation with brand new and more equitable ways of doing everything, of learning how to cooperate as equals, will really begin, and grow, and later be joined by Pluto in 2025 to deepen and penetrate into the newly fertilized soil of a regenerated humanity.

This all assumes, however, that the current apocalyptic thinking has subsided enough to be able to think creatively again. Something us old peace warrior apocalyptic thinkers have been doing for many years: we’ve known that the world could not continue to grow technologically and economically by consume infinite resources on a finite planet. Knowing the “collapse” was coming, we’ve been creating little lotus pads, like our little Green Acres Village;our little experiments in “community from the ground up” have been sprouting from the detritus of the old spoiled civilization; we are now the wayshowers for what will become a larger movement, to live in a loving, more cooperative manner that acknowledges and integrates the shadow wherever it is found, rather than burying it so that it surfaces again and again as F.E.A.R. — of our own inner lives, of our own bodies, of each other, of the Earth.

P.S. Check out Martin Geddes latest newsletter. Sent to my inbox today. Love it.

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[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Julius Heller. Your request to change his FC to Chris Evans, and his school to West Point, has also been approved. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: Hi, I’m obsessed with the detail in this application! I love how much thought you put in to his motivations and his history with Karina. I can’t wait to see Julius on the dash! - Admin M

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Julius Heller

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Julius was pretty much force-fed the need to sacrifice for God and country from the age of 3. His father intended his son to follow in his footsteps, maybe be a full-bird colonel or even a general. Julius was smart and adaptable, he had to be with how he grew up, and he didn’t have close ties to any one place in particular. Add on a father whose love and respect was based solely on how willing Julius was to say how hi when his father said jump and you have the perfect candidate for the clandestine services. People from happy functional families don’t tend to become spies.

Working for the CIA wasn’t quite what he imagined, but it was thrilling nonetheless. His focus was Russia and working dealing with bot farms and counterespionage. He ended up dealing with the Russian Mafia’s encroachment on the US and developing connections in the mob in Moscow and St. Petersberg. After the Ukrainian revolution, he was sent to the Crimea to gather intel about Russian separatists and the Ukrainian forces trying to fight back against them. He ended up deep undercover, dating the daughter of a Russian-backed politician suspected of funding anti-Chechen terrorist activities.

Karina. Oh Karina. She wasn’t the first love of Julius’s life, but she was the one who got to him when he was vulnerable and in need of someone to hang onto. She was trouble, the kind of trouble he should’ve known to avoid, with a drug problem and an attitude that she could get away with anything because of who she was. But she got him in important doors, and lying next to her in bed at night made him feel like someone might love him at least a little for who he really was, even if he wasn’t sure who that was anymore.

Karina got into a new kind of trouble: playing at the games her father was involved in. She didn’t seem to understand why Julius would object, when he was the one neck-deep in it too, and it resulted in a fight that only ended when she called him to tell him she was pregnant. She also revealed that she’d been using his name to engage in all kinds of bad behaviour and had gotten him so deep in shit that even he couldn’t get out. He was going to get pulled by his handler and be sent back stateside. She told him if he left her, she’d reveal everything he’d been up to and make trouble for him with the Russian Mafia, blowing up his whole mission. She knew just enough that if she told the wrong people, he’d get outed and burned and probably end up dead.

While he was trying to find a way to bring her home with him, still convinced that they could have a family and be together, despite all the evidence to the contrary, Karina disappeared. At first, Julius assumed she was doing it on purpose to force him to acquiesce to her demands. Then, he was simply frantic, using contacts he only had for life or death situations to try and find her. She was found by Ukrainian police in an alley, dead of an overdose. The media called it a tragic accident and hinted that it might be a suicide, while her father accused first the Ukrainians and then his own Russian contacts of having her killed. Only Julius knew that the Chechens had been tipped off about her involvement in her father’s business there. And that sent him down the rabbit hole of not knowing whether or not his own organization was to blame; whether they’d weighed the likelihood of his own death or hers and come up with an equation that he couldn’t be a part of.

There is Julius pre-Karina and Julius post-Karina, and it’s the defining moment where he went against God and country and had to discover who he actually was as a person. He’s still figuring that out. What is the difference, after all, between someone who commits crimes for personal gain and someone who does it for the flag? Is he any better than a criminal himself? Half his co-workers retired and became arms dealers or corporate security chiefs who engage in morally grey activities in foreign countries where no one is watching. Who is he if he’s not the good guy? He’d always believed that a good guy doing a bad thing for the right reasons was better than a bad guy doing the same thing for the wrong reasons. Now he’s not so sure there’s even such a thing as good guys and bad guys at all.

His involvement with the Sinclairs has left him feeling even more confused. If he’s keeping someone safe, but he’s doing so for criminals, is he better than he was when he was getting people killed for the government? His moral quandaries are something he tries not to dwell on, the kind of man who acts and doesn’t worry about second-guessing because it will get you killed, but years of turning off his moral compass has made it impossible to shut it off anymore.

What’s worse is there are people in the Sinclairs that he likes, that he cares about, who matter to him. Not getting attached was supposed to be part of his job, but having done it once with Karina, it’s become a habit he doesn’t know how to quit.

All of this would suggest a brooding, angsty man who weeps into his whiskey quietly in his apartment while it rains, only of course he’s too manly to actually weep. But Jules is the opposite of that. He’s had to become pathologically well-liked as part of his CIA training, and it’s carried forward into his new line of work. He can sit down at a table and make friends with whoever happens to be there, so that by the end of the evening, he knows the name of everyone’s spouse, children, mistress, and favourite sports team. Jules can get secrets out of people and they don’t even realize he was the one who asked in the first place.

He doesn’t let a lot of people in, and even when he found Paityn and protected her, almost on a whim, he still struggled to let himself care for her. She reminded him of Karina, trouble that needed him and fulfilled that part of him that wanted to be the knight in shining armour when he’d spent his life hiding in the shadows. But she and her mother have wormed their way into his life, so that he now even has weekly coffees with Penny to discuss her family and frets over Paityn if she doesn’t check in even on his days off. He’s dangerously close to considering at least part of the Sinclairs as something almost like family, which he hasn’t had since he joined the service, and it would frighten him if he let himself think about it.

WRITING SAMPLE

Once upon a time, Julian Helmann had thought he knew what right and wrong were. Now he knew he had no idea. After years of wearing a variety of masks and using so many different names that he sometimes forgot which one was real, he was back in the country that he’d loved but never really known. He had a new identity, which had cost him his retirement fund. His former handlers at Langley had agreed to quietly retire him provided he accepted that Julian Helmann was burned in the intelligence community, never able to work for any government, disavowed by the service and made known to every agency willing to listen. He’d signed along the dotted line and hadn’t told them all to eat shit, because he was too tired to care. It was over, that was the important thing.

So he was now Julius Heller, and that was who he would be for the rest of his life. Or until something new happened that required him to leave this one behind. He’d learned not to rely on anything remaining the same. Being adaptable was what kept you alive.

He’d picked Chicago because it was unfamiliar to him. He’d never lived there with his family growing up, there were no military bases near enough to bother him, and it seemed like a city that didn’t require you to have a past. No one needed to know his life story, they simply knew that he was here now.

Case in point, he’d been coming to the Sinclair bar for a month and had made friends with three bartenders and five locals. None of them cared about what he’d done before arriving in Chicago, other than making sure he wasn’t a fan of the wrong sports team. He’d spent his life worrying about the motives of every stranger he came across, so it was refreshing to know that he was surrounded by people engaged in the kind of lifestyle that meant he already knew what their motives were, and that they didn’t care about him. Maybe he’d spent too much time in Russia. Maybe he couldn’t really get along with anyone but criminals anymore. When you’d spent fifteen years of your life learning how to do a thing, it was simply possible you couldn’t stop.

Of course he knew who they were. He’d chosen the bar for that very reason. What better place to blend in than a bar where everyone had rap sheets and a pressing desire not to answer questions? They weren’t even that bad, as gangs went. They didn’t kill your whole family as a lesson if you fucked up while you watched. Chicago had been run by the Irish and the Italians, who would probably hate to hear that that marked them as soft when it came to organized crime syndicates, but Jules had chosen it over places with a heavy Russian influence. Sure, the Russians were moving on Chicago, they moved on anywhere they could, but they didn’t have a stranglehold on the place yet. If they did, he supposed he would have to leave. He was used to that.

There’s a quiet after an explosion that most people don’t realize. The blast itself isn’t so much loud as it is an attack on the senses. You don’t even process it as sound because it blows out your eardrums. And then there’s just quiet, and a ringing that slowly grows louder and louder. You can feel it in your head, your teeth, your chest. You’re dripping blood from your ears, your nose, anywhere the shrapnel has hit, and the world feels a lot like if you’ve been pulled into the undertow, and you don’t know which way is up. It is one of the most disorienting sensations, and there’s no way to get used to it. Whether it’s your first explosion, or your 30th, you handle it the same way, which is badly.

Julius was outside the bar, which wasn’t hard, since there was now a much larger entrance than there had been, wondering if Vladimir had found out who he was and had sent a message about the thing in Vladivostok. A man pointed a gun at him and was probably screaming, Jules’s ears hadn’t adjusted yet. He’d be at least half-deaf for three days. Reading lips was never as accurate as people thought, but even in his current state, Jules could tell it was in English. And more, that the man didn’t have Soviet teeth, so he wasn’t Russian. Ukrainian, maybe?

“Ya ne rozmovlyayu anhliysʹkoyu.” I don’t speak English. Julius couldn’t even hear his own voice, didn’t know if he was shouting it or if it just felt that way. He kept his hands up, trying to wipe the blood off of his face on the inside of his elbow. The words, “fucking Sinclairs” was clear enough that Jules felt comfortable assuming this was not, in fact, a hit on him.

While debating whether or not to simply lie down on the ground and let things take their natural course, he saw a crumpled form with hair that caught the streetlight glow. It was a girl. She reminded him suddenly of Karina, the way they’d found her behind Yuzhnoe. He’d looked at the crime scene photos, still had them, couldn’t stop looking, as if something was going to finally tip him off and tell him for sure what had happened.

The yelling man with the gun had stopped pointing it at Julius, also having noticed the girl, and was walking towards her, firing and missing. The Costellos really needed to offer better firearms training. Julius shot the man in the head three times in quick succession, twice in the main body cavity as well just for good measure. Scooping up what turned out to be a handy little assault rifle that was definitely not street legal, Julius kicked the corpse several times just to be absolutely sure.

The girl was small, smaller than Karina had been, she weighed almost nothing as Julius rolled her over and checked for injuries. His hearing was fucked, so he kept having to look up, checking for cops or reinforcements. When he saw them coming, he was disappointed to realize it wasn’t the cops. Cops he could handle. This was going to be complicated.

Throwing her over a shoulder, he flicked the gun to semi-auto and sprayed a pattern directly at the oncoming car, causing it to spin out and hit the curb trying to avoid the bullets. That gave him time to unlock his car and toss the girl into the back seat. Button-lock cars were really a lifesaver.

The street ahead was suddenly blocked off by an SUV, and the car behind was moving to block him off as well. Fabulous. Turning, he noted that the girl was coming around. “Hey, I need you to get down and hide in the foot well, okay? Just … don’t move and don’t open the car for anyone. I’ll be back in a minute.” After a moment, he dug his phone out and tossed it to her. It was a burner anyway. “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911 and then the first number in the contacts, tell them you need an extraction. Someone will come, okay?” Looking out the window, he judged he had maybe 30 seconds before they were about to have company. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise. You’re gonna be fine.”

Four minutes and 12 seconds later, he opened the driver’s side door, dripping blood from a graze across his bicep. It would sting but wouldn’t kill him. The SUV that had been blocking his path was now on fire and the one behind them had a small semi-circle of bodies around it. The girl was still there, looking dazed and so small. Her eyes seemed to take up most of her face. Karina’s face had been different. He reminded himself of that. Not the same. Different girl, different country, different him. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

[klanstability]

Updated Fic Recs!

It’s been literally a thousand years since I last updated my fic rec page (as always), but I’ve finally gotten my shit together. These go all the way back to mid-August, and I was really bad at keeping track of what I read and I don’t use bookmarks on AO3 like an idiot, so I’m definitely missing a few good ones, but I’ll get to that some other day.

"Fractal Glances Beyond a Shattered Plane" by 2towels

Teen | 30k

“Our containment study of that magic isn’t giving us a lot of information but what we can tell is that it was nasty, and it targets. You remembering stuff that didn’t seem important enough to erase—like Clarabelle Cow, or how to milk Kaltenecker, or simple stuff—is normal because it never reached the husk stage Coran keeps talking about.” Distantly, Lance echoes, “Husk stage.” -- All he has is a cow, a ship, and a rockin' tattoo, but boy howdy if he's going to let that keep him from getting his memories in order.

"meteoric" by zukos

Teen | 7k

It doesn't matter how good-looking the son of Aphrodite thinks he is. Keith isn't going to sleep with Lance. Ever.

"best friends?" by Lynn1998

Explicit | 9k

Lance and Keith have been friends for a long time, but what happens when hormones start to get in the mix?

"Hang the DJ" by Ehlihr (Elihaha)

Teen | 13k

“Lance can't get along with someone who likes the Smiths, he tells himself, after Allura rejects him and his Michael-Jackson-esque proposal for a date because she "prefers the Smiths".

Then, Keith (the boy who Lance does nothing but compete with in gym class) gives him a mixtape of his 'favourite Smiths' songs', to which Lance promises he won't listen to any of them. Proceeded by Lance listening to the tape on repeat for an entire weekend.

[Inspired by 80s music, high school life, and riddled with their awful slang.]

"life after death" by taylortot

Teen | 40k

Fear clambers into his mouth and tastes bitter on his tongue. “Who are you?” It takes him a moment to register the sound of his own voice. She stares at him. Blinks. “Lance, please, this isn’t time for one of your jokes--” He furrows his eyebrows and struggles to sit up, to stop leaning into the cradle of her arms. “I’m not--I’m not...joking.” * After sacrificing himself to save Allura, Lance wakes up in a strange new world where the only thing he knows is a deep connection to a boy he doesn't remember.

"The Futures Full of Clones" by jilliancares

Explicit | 20k

Keith accidentally winds up in his future self’s body, who he then has to pretend to actually be because apparently the future is full of clones who will say or do anything to trick Team Voltron. In the future, anyone acting out of the ordinary is a suspect, and Keith can't afford to get his future-self killed by being incompetent. This is only made harder by the fact that he has to pretend to know what it’s like to be a boyfriend, because in the future, he and Lance are dating.

"To Catch A Thief" by orphan_account

Teen | 5k

“You’re him,” said Keith, hardly able to believe it himself. “The Collector.” He laughed, grin wide. “That’s what you guys call me? Classic.” Eyeing Keith up and down, the man leaned against the gallery wall, next to Van Gogh’s Blossoming Almond Tree, with a coy grin. “That’s too formal, though, so call me Lance.”

"baby, you're a haunted house" by seabear 

Teen | 6k

The thing is? Lance doesn’t even really like Halloween.

"dynamic" by kagshina

Teen | 17k

“So, uh,” Keith starts, and Lance notices the way he shifts, like he’s not quite sure how to say what he wants to say. “How are we gonna...do this?” Before answering the question, Lance makes a quick list in his head of things he should never do: 1. Ask the boy he has a huge crush on to be his fake boyfriend for the sake of proving a point (even if Lance thinks he’s going to say no, because apparently he might actually say yes!)

"I just wanna make love to you" by DairyFarmer

Explicit | 26k

Both Paladin and Blade stood in silence for almost a full minute, staring at each other with indiscernible expressions (or at least Lance thinks the latter is, can’t really tell with the identity protecting mask adorning their face.) Before he can stop himself, he opens his mouth with a smirk curling at his lips. “You come here often?” Lance asks, tilting his head coyly. XxX In which Lance hooks up with a masked Marmora member, unaware he might know the person a little better than he thinks.

"Jealousy Thy Name is Lance" by RandyDowager

Teen | 8k

“I heard that you like someone,” he admitted. Wow, it hurt to say it out loud.

"when the lights go out" by dimpleforyourthoughts

Teen | 18k

Date and a Fifth: a type of party in which everyone must come with a date and a 750 ML bottle of hard alcohol (fifth). However, you must stay zip tied to your date until the two of you finish the entire bottle together. // (In which Lance needs a date, Keith needs cash, and maybe they fall in love along the way.)

"Feel me, I'm running through your veins" by Queerklancing

Explicit | 2k

“Hunk?” Lance pulls a face at the hoarse sound of his voice. “What’s this smell?” “Uh, yeah,” Hunk says and rubs the back of his neck. “Keith … asked me to give this to you.” He takes a few more steps towards Lance’s bed and hands him a dark cloth. Lance can feel how his body reacts the moment he realizes what he’s holding in his hands. It’s Keith’s shirt.

"three minutes to closing" by Yuisaki

General | 1.5k

“So you don’t know his name,” Pidge says slowly. “And he says meme-y things. And he always comes in three minutes before closing, and—” “Always leaves on the dot,” Keith adds. “And uh, he never orders the same thing twice in a row.” Pidge’s face is blank. “A customer who leaves at nine on the dot and never orders the same thing twice in a row,” she repeats. She opens her mouth, closes it, and taps at the screen of her tablet, hopping off the counter. “I’ll just tell everyone I didn’t get the answer out of you.” “Pidge,” Keith protests. “I mean it.” “And I think you have a cryptid customer,” Pidge says. (or: eccentricities in a small coffee shop where a cuban boy with cute dimples only exists three minutes to closing.)

"sweep him off his feet" by hcneylesbian

Teen | 25k

“I win.” Lance’s rapid breath hit his face, and that’s when Keith realized how close he was. He was close enough to see small freckles dotting across Lance’s cheeks, and to see his eyes taking him in. After a moment, he was just surprised Lance hadn’t pushed him away. “What were you down here for in the first place?” Lance’s face was red—Keith presumed he was flushed from the workout. “Hunk made lunch, I thought you might be hungry. Plus, I hadn’t really seen you all day.” And Keith was pissed that something in that sentence made his face fall of all cockiness, replaced with surprise. “Oh,” he said simply. Lance’s breath was finally evening out, but he still hadn’t shoved Keith off his waist. -- In which Keith and Lance keep having bonding moments until it's almost too late.

"i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me" by ericawrites, killproof

Teen | 16k

A stellar collision is the coming together of two stars caused by gravity, gravitational radiation, or other mechanisms not well understood. Any stars in the universe can collide. Keith and Lance do.

"Cereal Sweepstakes and Other Bad Ideas ft. Lance McClain" by ruralfishingcat

Teen | 50k

After winning a free session from a cereal contest, Lance decides to visit Voltron Skydiving. Unfortunately, there's only one employee working at the time and he has a stupid mullet. And to make matters worse, Lance seemingly can't escape interactions with him.

"flesh and blood (you deserved to be loved)" by rosedvst

Teen | 12k

Lance is melting under the intensity of Keith’s words, the sincerity of his voice, the softness of his heart. Falling for him all over again, but in different ways--not just for his smiles and his hands and his iridescent eyes, but for his heart and his voice and the way he makes Lance feel--tender and warm and deeply, deeply in love. Keith is like the ocean, Lance thinks, in that he is incredibly deep and beautiful and dangerous and dark. And when you get too close, he pulls you in like the sinking tides. Whether or not you embrace him is up to you. ☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ Or, Lance dreams of Earth's oceans to put out the fire raging within him. Falling in love with Keith happens somewhere along the way.

"put the stars in our eyes" by keithkin

Teen | 7k

Keith turns his body and brings his legs onto his bed, sitting criss cross with his shoulders hunched up near his ears. He wants to say something, and he can tell that Lance is waiting patiently for him to find the words, but he isn’t sure that it’s possible to form something eloquent. So, he says, “are you disappointed?” He doesn’t look at Lance when he speaks. He doesn’t know that he’d like what he would find on the other’s face. “Well, I’d rather not be glowing right now.” Lance responds. or: after years of Keith not having a soulmate, something changes.

"Nightmares" by Trashness

Teen | 15k

Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this. Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.

"fit the crown to my head" by aknightley

Teen | 76k

“What’s the fun in a masquerade if you don’t flirt outrageously with the prettiest person in the room?” the young man says flippantly, and then winks at Keith. Keith huffs a laugh, amused. “You keep saying things like that, but you haven’t seen my face,” he says, gesturing to his mask. “I could have warts under here. I could have spots, or scars.” “You’d be lovely even with all of those,” the young man says, and he suddenly sounds serious. It takes Keith by surprise, makes his heart twist along with his stomach. “Your eyes,” he continues, tilting his head. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

"Everybody's Got a Hungry Heart" by 2towels

Teen | 3k

“I’m Lance! Nice to meet you! Can I ask you something? Just fielding here, no funny business!” No, Keith wants to say as he glances at Pidge’s circle again and sees her throw her head back and scream something victorious at the ceiling. He doesn’t even think they’re playing flip-cup anymore. “Shoot.” He says instead, peering mysteriously into his drink as he moves his hand from over the lip of it. It’s just water, but clearly something has afflicted him if he’s going to indulge the guy. Maybe Pidge’s enthusiasm is infectious from across the way. Lance’s lips quirk very wide before he seems to be able to calm his expression. “Well, I am a sharpshooter!” He blurts, blinking when Keith blinks in turn at him. His shoulders bunch, then, and he barrels on, “Nevermind. Anyway, uh, would you ever date a zombie? Quick survey.”

[riddledeep]

 REMY AND JUANDISSIMO: IN SHORT

Brief bios about a snobby rich kid and the father who’s always there for him

REMBRANDT LIAM CAJALLENA BUXAPLENTY

Birthday: April 14th, 1991

Height (11): 4′10″

Height (Adult): 6′2″

Age During Frozen Timestream: 11

Alignment: Neutral Evil -> True Neutral

MBTI: INTJ

Love Language: Quality time

Handedness: Right dominant

Hometown: Dimmsdale - A coastal city in California, USA

Favorite School Subject: Spanish

Least Favorite Subject: Biology

Dream Career: Hahahaha-

Had Fairy Godparent: December 25th, 2001 - February 10th, 2002 (Age 10). Reunited with Juandissimo December 10th, “2004” (Age 11) - ???

Favorite Wish: The ability to breathe under any condition (Underwater, in space, and so on)... He still has it

Bio: Remy Buxaplenty was born to extremely inattentive parents, and in a mansion as big as his, he often went days or weeks without seeing either of them. His insecure-avoidant attachment style as a baby tripped ASPRA’s sensors early on. Officially the baby could not be assigned a fairy godparent until he was older, but with Juandissimo pleading for a chance to redeem himself after his last godparenting failure, the officials at Amity Angel reluctantly agreed to put Juandissimo on the case.

Remy’s life as a godkid is far from traditional. While most godkids meet their godparent between the ages of 9 and 14, Remy was practically raised by Juandissimo in his human disguise as Juan, Remy’s personal butler. In disguise, he looked after Remy and occasionally used a bit of magic to better his life (while not being obvious about it). They’ve practically been joined at the hip all of Remy’s life.

As Remy approached his 10th birthday, ASPRA agreed to give Juandissimo his godparenting license back. Juandissimo revealed his identity as a fairy, much to Remy’s surprise. After the initial confusion and anger, they settled into a rather routine godparent/godchild relationship. The pair’s separation in “Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary” was a devastating blow to both of them. Although Remy had an official fairy godparent for only a short time, he’d had a decade with his beloved guardian and struggled to pick himself up again after the loss.

Not long after Remy and his parents were shipwrecked on an uncharted desert island, his mother opened a luxury resort where Remy spent his days wandering the halls. He tried to make friends with kids who came by on vacation, but most either kept close to their parents, realized he was the owner’s kid and sucked up to him, or didn’t take interest in him (and they never stayed long anyway). Juandissimo and Remy reunited in December of “2004” after Juandissimo illegally returned Remy’s memories and helped him leave the lonely resort for Dimmsdale once again.

Remy is a notable character in the 130 Prompts. He plays a small role in Come What May and briefly appears in Along the Cherry Lane. When not busy rolling around in his money, he likes to read Crimson Chin comics and doodle Crash Nebula fanart. He attends Dimmsdale Middle School (when he feels like it) and shortly after “Fairly Odd Baby” befriended another rich godkid, Hadley Harrington. With Juandissimo crushing on Wanda, Hadley’s fairy crushing on Blonda, and only a short walk between their houses, they get along well enough. Still, Juandissimo will always be Remy’s closest friend.

Related:

Full Character Profile || Family Tree || Timmy’s and Chloe’s Bios || Kevin’s Bio

JUANDISSIMO LUIS MAGNIFICO

Occupation: Fairy godparent; masseur; prone to various odd jobs

Birthday: 2nd Monday of November, Spring of the Fluttered Whisper (Love)

Height: 3′7″ (Average for a fae)

Age During Frozen Timestream: 395,041 (Mentally 35)

Age As of Devil’s Backbone: 558,301 (Mentally 49)

Alignment: Lawful Good -> Neutral Good

MBTI: ENFP

Love Language: Words of affirmation

Handedness: Left dominant

Hometown: Serentip - A highly congested port city in Fairy World full of apartments and skyscrapers

Crown Lift: Highly unstable

Wand Type: Gingertie

Fagiggly Color: Purple

Preferred Shapeshifting Form: Jaguar

Bio: Juandissimo is a rarity in Fae society in that he was born of magic, much like Poof (though Poof was half created by physical means where Juan was all magic). His infertile father made a deal with a genie, and she granted his wish for children by giving him Juandissimo. As part of this wish, Juandissimo was born right alongside his counterparts, making Anti-Juandissimo and Dame Juandissimo his biological siblings. He lived alongside them for only a short time before it was decided they would thrive best among their own kind. Young Juandissimo was extremely broken up about this and has struggled with the weight of loneliness ever since.

Being born of magic has left Juandissimo’s life force less stable than most fae, and he’s constantly under study by Cupid’s family as a result. His friendship with Cupid began long ago, when the Eros Triplets were born. Juandissimo, interning at the Eros Nest at the time, was assigned as their babysitter. Juandissimo stopped interning there when he finished school with his godparenting degree, but even so, when excitable Cupid heads out into the world, his wary friend is sure to follow.

Juandissimo dated Wanda Fairywinkle during their time at the Fairy Academy, cheerfully flitting on her heels and complimenting her on a near-constant basis. But centuries of being told the same things (and not finding the caring and protective signs of love she was looking for) eventually began to wear on Wanda. As is custom in Fairy courtship, they began their Year of Promise together by dressing in ceremonial clothing and limiting their interactions. This space gave Wanda time to consider a future without Juandissimo, while Juandissimo spent it daydreaming about the rest of his life with Wanda. When their ceremonial year and a day apart ended and they shared their feelings, Wanda broke up with him- much to his absolute shock, since he’d been prepared to propose. He’s still reeling from it 10,000 years later.

As a fairy godfather, Juandissimo’s career has been moderately successful but notably spotted with failures. He loves cheering others up, but his extreme permissiveness as a parent has gotten him into trouble time and time again. He was once suspended from godparenting after [REDACTED; see also, Prompt 57, “Whatever”]. After a decade of begging, the Amity Angel program reluctantly agreed to give him another chance to prove himself. This brought Juandissimo to Remy, so you can imagine how distraught he was to lose Remy in “Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary.” Blaming himself, he fell into despair. Juandissimo has always passionately believed in Da Rules, but seeing Remy so distraught without him, he finally chose to act against them and look after his old godson, whether it was illegal or not.

Juandissimo occasionally appears in Origin of the Pixies and Frayed Knots, but plays a much larger role in the 130 Prompts, scraping together desperate plans to hold his career together... and clinging to his connection with the last godkid he’ll probably ever have.

Related:

Full Character Profile || Fairy Class Overview || Wanda’s Bio

[sol1056]

stop and un-remember this

Step away from the echo chambers of twitter and tumblr, and set aside the pockets of the internet where reviews live. Most of a show’s viewing audience -- hell, the vast majority of the US -- doesn’t reside in those places. 

For the casual viewers who make up the silent majority of almost every viewing audience, there’s minimal interest in any convention circuit, or interview, or much of anything outside Netflix’s selections. (This is one reason for having reviews and interviews showing up in a half-dozen venues, to try and grab as many low-engagement viewers as possible.) 

What that means is that, for the majority of viewers who are not as plugged-in as the core fandom, the story exists only as it’s shown on their screens. So let’s step back from JDS’ and LM’s ex-canonical explanations, and look at how the story appears when taken solely on its own merits. 

Behind the cut: five things the story doesn’t explain, and how the actual narrative might appear to a casual viewer. 

1. Shiro has a degenerative disease; while perhaps not terminal, it does sound inevitably debilitating. 

This is quite a bombshell, and it’s never mentioned again. Nothing in the story offsets or contradicts what Shiro -- or anyone else -- says in S7E1 about how much longer he’s got. 

SHIRO: I’ll only be able to maintain my peak condition for a couple more years.

This is underscored by the series’ use of timeframes (to a greater degree than any previous season). We know Shiro spent a year as a prisoner, and from Pidge’s later comment about ‘four years’, we can deduce it’s been another year since then, plus a magical three-year timeskip in the return to Earth. 

That means that for casual viewers, the season is shadowed by this assumption that Shiro has an expiration date -- and it’s not that far off in the future.

2.  Keith inexplicably stops pressuring Shiro to take position as Black Paladin.

Nothing is said anywhere as to why Shiro is no longer tied to Black nor the Black Paladin. The closest we get to even a nod in that direction is when all but the five current paladins are frozen, in S7E6.

ALLURA: Coran is frozen as well. Our paladin armor must have protected us from the shock.

The problem is Shiro’s wearing armor, too, and he’s also frozen. That single line (and his exclusion from the bulk of that episode) seems to stand in for the message that Shiro is no longer a paladin. 

At the same time, S7 had a complete absence of any protest from Keith. We’ve had 50+ episodes of Keith insisting -- even when all evidence pointed to Shiro’s death -- that Shiro remained the Black Paladin.

KEITH: Shiro is gone. He was the Black Lion.

A casual viewer might decide Keith’s silence in S7 meant Keith realized he’d been wrong all along. That in fact, the mantle of Black Paladin passed to Keith upon Shiro’s “death,” and the clone taking Black was another indication of the clone’s wrongness. That is, the clone stole Shiro’s memories and appearance, and Keith’s position as Black Paladin. 

3.  Shiro’s physical abilities are downgraded significantly.

Most of the fight scenes across S7, Shiro does little, if he’s even present at all. Krolia lampshades this by saying Shiro’s still recovering.

KROLIA: No, you’re still recovering. I’ll do it.

And in the last stretch of S7, Shiro’s contribution amounts to telling other people what to do; his previous physicality is reduced to acting as a conduit for Sam to hack his brain. And finally, Sendak defeats Shiro easily, compared to S1 where Shiro fought him to a draw. 

A casual viewer might thus assume Shiro himself chose (offscreen) to refuse Black’s position, between adjusting to a new body and the last stages of a genetic disease (since a clone with identical memories would reasonably also have identical physical aspects). 

4. Shiro has the clone’s body, but not the clone’s memories.

In S7E1, the high-drama element is whether his awareness can fix itself to an unfamiliar body. Shiro calls out the clone-situation only once. 

SHIRO: Well, I'm sorry, Lance, but I guess having my consciousness transplanted from the infinity of Voltron's inner quintessence into the dead body of an evil clone of myself has left me a little out of sorts for the past few weeks. 

Later, Shiro mentions his “disappearance,” and says dealing with the long dark passage alone required adopting routines. He never references any events that happened during his absence. The narrative is pretty clear, so it’d be reasonable to conclude the two had completely separate experiences, and Shiro has none of the clone’s memories. 

In short: Kuron was evil, is now dead, and has no further influence on events.  

5. While we’re at it, a casual viewer might be unaware of the intended subtext of Shiro’s relationship with Adam. 

Yes, yes, I’ve seen all the arguments that say it’s supposed to be coded as romantic, but it’s full of contradictions that create a certain ambiguity. For one, they’re in the officer’s club, with other people present. Second, although Adam asks what he means to Shiro, his next line could imply a long-term partnership of a military kind. 

ADAM: Every mission, every drill, I’ve been right there with you.

Although the EPs/writers seem to put family together to a frightening degree that a modern military would never condone --- Matt and Sam on the mission to Kerberos, Veronica going with Lance to the battlefield --- that’s just not the assumption the average person is going to make. 

In writing, you always put last what you want to stick in the reader’s mind. The order here leaves room for viewers to skip over any implications in the first line to linger on the second, which could be ambiguously platonic. A viewer not actively looking for queer representation could interpret this as Adam being afraid for his best friend, and possibly a bit jealous at being left behind. 

At no point -- in that first episode, or later, when Shiro learns of Adam’s death -- does anyone speak of their relationship. Nowhere does Shiro even put a word to it. If casual viewers had already coded them as best friends or near-brothers, Shiro’s grief is still comprehensible and relatable. In some ways, the platonic aspect of other pop-culture bromances (ie Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers) are just as strong, with mourning just as severe. 

Honestly, there was more in a few lines’ exchange between Ezor and Zethrid to indicate a romantic relationship than there was in all of the Shiro/Adam interactions or references. “I’ll always take care of you” and “that’s my girl” are pretty unambiguous, especially given the character designs (and previous interactions) make it pretty clear these two are not siblings. 

And --- unlike with Adam and Shiro --- they’re storyboarded with a certain intimacy. They’re alone, and Zethrid gets in close in Ezor’s personal space, with Ezor neither pushing her away nor recoiling. 

ZETHRID: Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.

If casual viewers had heard anything in passing about LGBT+ rep in VLD, it’s entirely possible they could’ve assumed this was the rep intended. Of course, both die in a fiery explosion not long after, but who’s counting. 

in the absence of in-story explanation

It seems to me that a casual viewer --- lacking the EPs’ explanations --- might have found S7 somewhat confounding. Is Shiro now unable (or not allowed) to pilot Black because he occupies someone else’s body? Is Keith’s tacit appropriation of the Black Paladin mantle meant to signal the S4 handoff was a mistake? By virtue of his disease or his victimhood in Haggar’s schemes, is Shiro no longer qualified to be a paladin? 

The season’s also full of characters framed as though we should care as deeply about them as we do about the core protagonists. Adam, Colleen, Iverson, Sam, and a dozen or more Garrison cadets and officers, all better trained, better disciplined, and better equipped than Voltron itself. They not only get two episodes of backstory (twice what Voltron itself got), they dominate most of the second half of the season.

Meanwhile, the protagonists struggle, needing Shiro to tell them what to do; they’re almost their own worst enemies more than Sendak is. Compared to the Earth forces who rally repeatedly, the Voltron team barely hangs in there. They need Shiro’s ultra-ugly oversized insta-mecha to intervene, before Voltron can get its act together long enough to strike the killing blow.   

Honestly, it’s no surprise the first flush of audience reaction is so unhappy, if the majority were unaware of the EPs’ explanations. Almost all contradict point-blank what we see in the story itself: 

Shiro’s disease was cured during his imprisonment or cured in the cloning process, but either way he’s fine, now

The clone was neither evil nor brainwashed, just basically Shiro doing his best until Haggar struck in late S6

Shiro and the clone are now merged consciousness, with Shiro retaining his memories plus that of the clone’s

Shiro’s link to Black has been permanently broken by Allura’s transfer; he’s no longer a paladin, full stop

Shiro and Adam were in a long-term relationship, either currently engaged or heading that direction, at the time of their breakup

None of that shows up in the narrative. None of it. 

Lacking that ex-canonical information, it had to have felt as though the story’s expected trajectory was just thrown out the nearest window. Coupled with the extreme emphasis on an entirely new set of characters, I wouldn’t be surprised if casual viewers got the impression that S7 existed solely as setup for Voltron to gain a new and better set of paladins.