#she's the type who tried a lot of things and never found her niche so she worked a bunch of retail/customer service jobs

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Joy looked like such a feral little kid

the combination of her limitless energy and her tendency to get bored and break/build things made her a terror to adults and a hero to the other kids

[autisticrosewilson]

Hiii!! Do you have any Jason & Catherine, Jason & Willis headcanons to spare?? Alsoo, permission to use on fics? 👀

Thank YOU FOR THE ASK!! And of course I love when people use my headcanons!!

For Jason and Catherine I think he gets his love of theatre, especially musicals, from Cathy. She seems like the type to study classics or work at an antique shop or something and a lot of their apartment used to be decorated with assorted knickknacks. It was a little bit of push back against her Catholic upbringing which demonized earthly pleasures and material goods.

Admittedly she used to have hoarder tendencies, she would get very attached to her collections, they became a crutch for her while caring for her mother and after her mother's death, and I think this is what inspired Jason's tendency to keep as little on him at all times. He couldn't stand the clutter for the first few months after Willis was arrested.

I've mentioned it before but I think a big part of why they never had a kid of their own after taking in Jason is because Catherine was scared of passing down her hereditary disease, especially because in my version she originally comes back to Gotham to take care of her sick mom. In this way she spares Jason from dying like her and her mother, but she ultimately fails to save him the pain of watching his mom deteriorate right in front of him.

Jason comes by his autism honestly, from both parents. Neither Catherine or Willis were particularly aware of it but they totally understood all of Jason's interests and his insistence on rigid routines. Neighbors and teachers would be like "don't you find how isolated he is odd?" And they would be like "Nope :) kneeling on the playground collecting rocks and organizing the classroom bookshelf during recess are perfectly normal. And so is him crying when the lights are too bright and eating his food section by section."

I know that Jason was the CHUNKIEST baby, I know it I was there. Catherine and Willis dressed him as a pumpkin as often as they could and he made all the girls and old people in the apartment SWOON and fawn over him. He didn't even have teeth and he was raking in candy.

Catherine and Willis had VERY different parenting techniques, Cathy grew up on a farm going to church every Sunday in Virginia while Willis grew up running Gotham's streets with little to no reliable supervision. So Catherine was kind of a helicopter mom because Jason was her miracle kid, while Willis was a lot more laid back. Which isn't to say that Willis loved him less, but Willis prefers to teach Jason to be self sufficient because he knows exactly what it takes to survive in Gotham.

Willis always wanted to take Jason fishing but due to it being Gotham...that never happened. Regardless, he tries to hit as many of the typical father-son milestones as he could because he never really got to do those things with his own father. Jason wasn't particularly sporty, but he was canonically a baseball fan and I also think he's a hockey fan, so that's something him and Willis bonded over. They definitely found their favorite bonding activity working on cars together though (can someone say shared special interest).

I actually think Jason gets his love of cooking from Willis! I imagine he worked with a lot of street food vendors and at a lot of different mom and pop restaurants, he seems like the type who bounced from a lot of different jobs throughout his teen and college years so he's kind of a jack of all trades and has a bunch of niche skills from his EXTENSIVE career. Willis Todd is much like Barbie to me. But anyway he passed down a lot of those recipes and his love for food and different cultures to Jason. Catherine can cook but after growing up being told it would always be her responsibility, something she was obligated to do as a wife, Willis's delight in doing domestic tasks like that is part of what drew her to him.

Willis had a picture of Jason in his wallet and he bragged about Jason to anyone who would listen so a lot of people recognized Jason on the streets, which put a target on his back but also so many of Willis's friends (exes) knew Jason that part of why Jason survived so long is that people were a lot more willing to help him. There was a not insignificant community of Crime Alley who were delighted as well as suspicious when Jason was adopted. There was a candlelight vigil held for him after he died since no one got to attend the funeral.

Jason has always had Catherine's smile, and he still does. It's amazing how easy it was for her to pass as his bio mom, if you raise someone long enough they'll eventually start to emulate you. No one ever denied that Jason was Cathy's. No one knew Catherine was pregnant? Some of Jay's traits are... unaccounted for? Nope Jason has the same speech patterns and gets the same look when he's judging someone and has that same light in his eyes when he's reading a particularly good book.

In tribute to them he has a tattoo of a shield surrounded by lilies. The shield is for Willis because in some languages his name means resolute protector, and the lilies are for Catherine because like her name they mean purity.

After moving in with Bruce after finding out Willis died he asked to hold funerals for both of them and they have matching headstones at Gotham cemetery. For Catherine's he chose a Bible quote (Timothy 1:7) and for Willis's he chose a dedication to the only version of Willis he knew (loving father, devoted husband, friend of many, brave till the end). The ceremony was public and the venue was overflowing with people who had known Willis, Jason learned more about his dad than he'd ever known before listening to their memories of him. Ma Gunn was still in jail but when word got back to her she sent a letter to Wayne Manor thanking him, because she might be a hateful old bitch but that was still her son.

[probably-haven]

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

-

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

-

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

-

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

[raiy-yn]

picos school trauma coping head canons because this is how I decided to spend my Thursday afternoon!

obviously CW for the events of picos school, drug use, discussion of trauma, self harm and also repressed memories.

pico

pico often copes through a sort of exposure therapy by using his guns, it also helps to let off some extra steam.

he also tends to use weed as an escape but he does this far less often due to how often he gets really bad trips

one thing he does a lot a lot is try and find some high up area like a rooftop or something and try to take in the view. pico either does this to get his mind off things or so he can mull over his thoughts in a constructive manor away from anyone who he could lash out on.

this one is a really niche one but I have this really specific hc where he wears cat ears and a maid outfit as a comfort blanket. it makes him feel pretty :3 this one probably doesn't happen often tho.

one of his big ones is making humor out of his trauma, not all of the jokes are funny but y'know, you can't win e'm all. he does this most frequently with nene who tends to be the best with this type of banter.

Nene

Like i said earlier she often tends to talk to pico about these types of things, jokes, vents, whatever she’s feeling at the time she finds most comfort in pico’s company when upset or stressed.

Nene used to self harm often(but you already knew that) but recently she has been getting far better and instead of knives n shit she tends to use a slap bracelet and rubber band so she can negate the damages. Of course it isnt as good as not harming herself at all but its doing well.

She definitely takes self care days, yaknow all the good shit. Bubble baths and manicures, the works. One of her favorite face masks is a sparkly pink one that is labeled “bubblegum rose�� scented.

She definitely pulls the other two to do this stuff with her (sometimes a makeover too if they aren’t too prickly about it)

Nene probably also hugs her plushies really hard when she has trouble sleeping at night, i can imagine she also keeps on a nightlight.

Darnell

Darnell doesn’t actually remember the shooting due to repressing those memories, despite this he’s deathly afraid of the sounds of gunshots and blood.

This gets really bad around fourth of July because he suddenly gets really stiff and starts shutting down from all the noise, but he doesn’t even know why. So usually what he does is put on some noise canceling headphones. gets under his covers with a notebook and recites mathematic equations, or just looking at whatever’s online.

He often finds most comfort in holding his friends or being held. Being touched in general brings most comfort, hand holding, shoulder tapping, using other people as an armrest(mostly pico) whatever is most convenient. As long as he is touching someone and knows they’re present. Its never in a sexual way tho Darnell is just a clingy man.

Lots of stimming, all the stims. He often scratches at his jeans or something else rough, but he also does the classic arm shaking stim a lot too but he tries not too since carpal tunnel is assumably not fun.

One of his biggest stims is probably flicking a lighter on and off (i think i talked about this earlier)

Similarly to pico he also likes getting on roofs to sit and reflect, he also stares at camp/bonfires frequently because fire pwetty.

One long night darnell got worried for pico since he had been gone all night when they had plans. He went looking for pico the entire night and soon found him on top of a skyscraper just staring at the city scape. Darnell asked him what he was doing here pico simply told Darnell “has the best view in philly, i come here to think sometimes” Darnell was invited to join him with a quiet patting of the concrete right next to pico. They sat there quietly, thinking and pondering for most of the night. This quickly became one of their favorite pass times.

[kendo413]

ValVarez headcanons pt 1

Here are Judy/Fem!V (or ValVarez as I have started calling them in my head) headcanons that kind of took on a narrative, and then kind of lost the plot along the way. These were the result of possibly the worst migraine of my life. I needed a distraction, so I started typing up some headcanons I thought of for the streetkid!V I was playing at the time, and then kept expanding it until I could finally fall asleep.

I will try say there are some spoilers for the game in here, and I will try to hide them under the fold or whatever. None of this is likely unique at this point, so if anything feels like it should be in your fic, have at it. Will be at least two parts after I realized just how much I had typed up during the migraine.

Something is off about this Merc. She isn't posturing, or boasting - she doesn't even seem to be wearing clothes that fit. When she speaks Judy can reluctantly admit that she does so without even a trace of guile.

The merc - V - is a BD virgin. Judy was confused about this turn, to say the least. Not many make it to her age, or at least as old as V appears to be, without at least making use of an educational BD.

Judy has never seen someone as strong as V, or at least, not someone with 'ganic limbs. Even the Animals probably haven't put as much steroid-free effort into their body as V clearly has. Judy has a lot of opportunity to admire her while V is in the test BD.

Evelyn has to convince V not to bolt from the chair the second the trial BD concludes. The merc shifts with anxious energy, looking a little green around the gills, and any doubts Judy had that V may have been lying about being a BD virgin go right out the window. She is intrigued, despite herself.

A netrunner is brought in, and Judy spends the whole of the Konpeki BD scowling at her monitors.

Not many people say "Thank you" in Night City. Somehow it fits that V, the big bad merc that she is, makes a point to say thanks despite how nauseas the BD experience has clearly made her. Maybe it was a mistake to give her that BD wreath.

Evelyn thinks she's sweet, and Judy is all too quick to remind her of her terrible judgement when it comes to people. Present company excluded of course.

Judy thinks this is all a terrible idea. Capable or not, nothing good can come from putting faith in the candid merc. Evie insists that V is an adorable murder machine regardless.

Judy was right in the end. She wasn't happy about it though. Not when Evelyn went back to Clouds a few days later.

V is back, Evelyn is missing, and they need each other right now. Judy doesn't have to like it.

It was terrifying to watch V work. Like a switch flipped and all of the restless, shifting energy she returned from wherever-the-fuck with was exchanged for focus.

V is uncommonly fast as well as strong, apparently. Her blade sings through the air with merciless precision, and her footsteps only make noise when she wants them to. V is is like a vengeful specter, and Judy is glad they're on the same side.

V enjoys her work, and seems more alive than ever leaving a trail of scav bodies behind her. She also stops to check every broken and discarded corpse along the way to make sure it isn't Evie's so that Judy doesn't have to.

After they rescue Evelyn and bring her safely to Judy's apartment, Judy realizes she can still hear the echoes of screams and gunfire left over from the rescue. She can't feel an ounce of remorse even now, hours after V sent heads and limbs flying as they hacked their way to Evelyn.

Judy is grateful to V for the care she's shown. For listening to Judy's direction in the scroller den, for saving Evelyn's interrogation for another day despite how desperate she was to find the Doll when they first made contact. For the first time, Judy feels ashamed of her snap judgement of V. Yes, her clothes never match or even fit her on any of the occasions they've interacted, and yeah, she has personally watched V pick up a discarded can of Chromanticore and finish it off, but she is also kinder than anyone Judy has met in years.

Evelyn is dead, and V is the only one she can call. V who is terrible with words but somehow knows exactly what to say to help Judy focus on the important things. She's helpful, and trying so hard to keep them both together.

V distracts her when the badges come. Tells her about meeting Jackie - how he shoved a gun in her face, then brought her home for lunch a few hours later. By the time they leave Judy isn't in cuffs, so the distraction must have helped.

Judy begins making plans. Wallowing in sadness never helped anyone in this city.

She's getting the feeling that V may have a crush on her. She also gets the feeling that V didn't like whatever she found while snooping on Maiko's comp, if the line of not-subtle-at-all questions as they leave are any indication.

They kill Woodman, and Judy doesn't feel any better. V tries her best to help, and it's the earnestness that Judy once found so off-putting that helps more than the words themselves.

V checks in on Judy in between jobs. She sends pictures from the Badlands that she thinks Judy would like to see. Judy ignores the way it bothers her to see some other woman in the background of more than a few.

Maiko makes it clear that she doesn't want the "freak merc" anywhere near this revolution. Judy is extra pleased to inform her that V is a vital, non-negotiable part of the mission.

V is dying, and Judy feels like someone pulled the rug out from under her. She thought V was being dramatic the first time she said so, but now she knows better. V falls asleep on her couch while Judy tells her about the unsuccessful line of BD blooper reels Sue had her work on a few months back.

V invites Judy to El Coyote Cojo a few days later for dinner. Rather, she invites Judy to Mama Welles's place for dinner, because V can't cook to save her life.

Mama Welles has endless stories about V and Jackie's misadventures. Judy is impressed that neither of them ended up in jail based on the amount of times they've had to pull each other out of the fire. By the end of the night, Mama Welles insists Judy call her when she needs to.

Sometimes, on a particularly bad night, Judy idly wonders how many people V has murdered that day. It seems she is always finding trouble to get into the middle of even just walking down the street. She doesn't want a number, but on very bad days it comforts her to know that if nothing else, they all at least had it coming. Maybe the world is a little bit better because V is in it, doing her thing.

V disappears without a trace for a few days. No pictures, no texts, not even a blip on the street about that sword wielding merc jumping into save some random citizens from gang violence. Judy tries not to worry but ends up going through a whole pack of cigs anyway.

Judy ends up calling Mama Welles who reassures her that V is probably just sick. V gets sick a lot with the way she eats whatever she finds but it's a habit they've not been able to break. Judy still can't reach V on the holo, but she does get an invite to dinner so she at least has company in her worry.

When V reappears, she is only slightly worse for wear and closed off about her whereabouts. Rumors start to surface about a massacre in a Pacifica church, and Judy doesn't ask.

Despite Maiko's best efforts, Clouds is liberated. Judy visits Evelyn's niche to tell her it's done, and finds V has left her cigarette case there.

Judy begins planning something new.

Judy gets a call from V, but not V. Panam on V's holo, the woman in the background of the photos. Panam is rude, but seems terrified and keeps going off on tangents about how V doesn't even have a security pin on her holo. "Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is when anyone can just access all her shit if she loses it?"

V is getting worse, and Judy feels helpless when all she can really tell Panam is to let V sleep it off. Panam thanks Judy for "being so helpful, truly appreciate the insight." If Judy weren't so sure Panam was V's output, she would admire how much "Fuck you" the feisty woman managed to inject into every syllable.

V stops by late the next day and apologizes for Panam. Judy suspects it's on Panam's advice when V not-so-subtly insists, on six separate occasions during the visit, that she and Panam are just friends.

Later, Panam calls Judy herself and apologizes. Judy makes a joke about V surrounding herself with temperamental women, which sets off teasing on Panam's followed by bickering between the nomads Judy wasn't aware could hear them chatting. She thinks she understands what V sees in Panam, now. It must feel like coming home, having to pull Panam out of the fires she creates after losing Jackie.

Judy invites V to Laguna Bend, and aside from V nearly drowning, the evening is perfect.

[shapiros]

you've mentioned before that blair is the type to have had a lot of different, fleeting interests / passions ( knitting, music, recently acting ). could you talk a little bit more about the hobbies blair has had in the past? are there any that she still returns to from time to time? what's the "cringiest" interest she's had / one she'd never admit to? is there anything she would like to try but hasn't had the chance to yet?

hi, aura ♡ i was gonna ignore this but now it’s starting to feel like a Rite of Passage, so here we are. 

so, at the heart of blair’s character i think she is just someone who is trying to figure out who she is – jack of all trades, master of none, blair is someone who’s never really found her niche. she’s decent at things, but never found anything she’s particularly good at or makes her stand out. this might come from the fact that she never really had any hands-on parenting, like if she had something that made her special or unique, then maybe she would be more worthy of certain time or attention. additionally, blair was never very academically gifted – she always struggled in school and fell behind her peers, traditional school just didn’t really work for her, so she tried to find other ways to show she had certain value.

that said, one conversation with blair and you can figure out that she’s pretty fickle. her mind moves quickly from one topic to the next, never lingering too long on anything in particular. she quickly loses interest in things that don’t challenge or excite her – and, well, this goes for people, too. she puts her all into everything she does, but this is generally in short bursts. 

so, to list off some of the hobbies or fixations she’s had : 

the rubix cube. she can solve it faster than pretty much anyone you know.

knitting. there was one christmas where everyone blair considered a friend was getting a hat or a pair of gloves.

watercolors. not to say blair is like, an amazing artist, but she can definitely draw decently and she took a watercolor class for a while and knows how to actually use them. 

mixology ! this actually lasted a while in LA, thinking maybe she could just outlast it there and get really into bartending. i feel like this one comes up in threads most often.

music. blair never learned to really read music properly, but she can strum a few chords. her strength lies in singing and she’s fun at kareoke.

ask her to braid/dye/cut/etc your hair, she does actually know what she’s doing. she can also do piercings, was definitely the girl with a needle piercing a friend’s ear in the bathroom during class in high school . . . 

and everyone knows about the acting hyperfixation. 

now that she lives in a house with ethan, she might start getting into horticulture ? catch her getting obsessed with plants and starting a random garden in the back ( yeah, she’ll be growing weed, too. ) 

i think now that she lives with ethan she might also get into dnd/magic ? i think it would be funny if she got swept up into some of his ‘nerdier’ interests and got totally fixated on that stuff, it’ll be a nice progression from her accidentally buying him pokemon cards when he asked for magic. i think this kind of behavior will continue for a bit, though, because since coming back from LA, she still feels like she hasn’t found her niche / figured out who she is. and maybe she’s letting these things define her in all the wrong ways, but she’ll keep doing it until she stops being scared to put herself back out there again – people keep asking her how long she’s staying, and the truth is, she doesn’t know. her experience with leaving has made her scared to try it again.

[whatusernamex3000]

So I know it's a niche ship but Komelle has always been a sweet little pairing I've loved since I watched voltron. I just wish they did more to further the two of them together (romantically or friendship idk just wanted more).

Anyways here's and unfinished fic from two years ago when I started writing. Just wanted to put more Komelle into the world.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Keith was on a mission to reconnect with his estranged mom. Feeling rejected by his friends, he set off on a solo road trip across the country to meet her.

The last thing he imagined was that on the trip back, he would end up being happy for the first time in his life. All it took was his mom, a mutt, and a goofball hitchhiker.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Keith sat in silence with his newly found mother, Krolia, he learned her name was. When he set out to find her, he was at an all time low in his life. And at twenty one years old, that was saying a lot.

He'd made mistakes before, but he'd never meant to burn bridges. He never meant to throw away everything he had worked so hard to build. But things just didn't go his way. He had no idea what to do next, so he finally decided that he was going to set out to talk to his estranged mother.

The woman who had left him when he was born with just his father. The woman who didn't seek him out when his father died. The woman who didn't want him, didn't need him.

But he packed as much as he could into his rusty pickup truck and said enough with California, and drove to Portland, Maine where he discovered she lived.

After he mustered the courage to knock on the door, things went rather well from him. He was prepared to give her a piece of his mind and tell her off, but when the time came, he couldn't. Keith was just so happy to have found her. And she was nothing like the terrible monster he had created in his head. Krolia for all her faults and mistakes in her youth, was willing to be a part of his life. She wanted to find Keith after she found out his father died but she had heard too late and he was already with the Shiroganes.

While Keith wanted to say that it was no excuse, he couldn't imagine his life without growing up with Shiro and his family. They treated him as their own, and he considered himself a part of their family even if he knew it wasn't true.

The trip back was filled with awkward silence as the two tried to learn more about each other. He'd learned that his mother was a total badass, and a surprisingly great cook. She never married, or had other children, and all around was a great woman. While she couldn't get back the time she'd missed, she wanted him to know that from that point on, she was going to be there.

Somewhere around Indiana they hit a snafu. More specifically, Keith nearly hit a dog. The damn thing sprinted in front of his truck causing him to swerve out of the way and drive straight into a ditch. There they had to get it towed to replace the destroyed tire. Keith could've done it himself had the ruined tire not already been the spare.

Next door there was a local dive bar that Krolia suggested that they check out while they wait for the truck to be fixed. Leaving the shop Keith noticed the dog that had caused this fiasco sitting patiently as if it were waiting for them. "Go away you mutt!" He shouted but it had no effect on the dog. It sat patiently waiting for God knows what.

Forgetting about the dog, Keith followed his mother into the dive bar. Needless to say it was exactly what he expected. Loud drunken local hillbilly types, a bartender that was too pretty to be there, and a few out of place strangers. But one stood out among the rest.

A cute blonde who looked to nervous to be at a place like this. Krolia seemingly sensing Keith's wandering eyes chose to have them sit next to the pretty blonde girl. "Do you mind? These seats aren't taken are they?" She kindly asked the girl.

She shook her head. Krolia sat down and had Keith sit between her and the girl. "What would you like Keith?"

"Ummm a rum and coke," he replied. Krolia chuckled, "just like your father." But as soon as she said it, she realized how much of a mistake it was. They were far to soon in their relationship to talk about him. Keith excused himself for a minute leaving Krolia alone. She let out a large sigh, snagging the lonely girls attention.

"Is everything okay ma'am?" She kindly asked. She had a slight British accent if Krolia was placing it correctly. "No. I'm stuck with my estranged son who hates me. I haven't been part of his life in over twenty years, and now I am. And it's a bit much. For both of us."

"But you're trying right?"

Krolia let out another sigh, "I'm trying harder at this than anything I've ever tried before. But I don't think it's going to be enough."

"Well I think it should be. You have motherly eyes," the girl pointed out and offered Krolia a kind and friendly smile.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I'm sure that the last thing you wanted was for some stranger to confide in you. Especially something like this," Krolia laughed a bit.

"Nonsense, I asked you. I'm Romelle," the girl said offering her hand.

"Krolia."

"So Krolia why are you and your son here in the middle of Indiana?"

Krolia filled her in on her and Keith's story. From meeting in Portland, Maine, to hitting the ditch just a few miles down the road.

"It was Kosmo," Romelle said. Krolia looked at her with a confused look. "What's cosmic?"

"No the dog that ran in front of your truck. His name is Kosmo. He's like the towns friendly neighborhood dog. He doesn't have an owner," she explained. By this point, Romelle had taken Keith's seat and drink, due to Krolia's offer.

"He was probably trying to chase a rabbit," she explained, polishing off the last of Keith's rum and coke. "And he was probably trying to apologize to your son when you saw him outside."

"Speaking of Keith," Krolia swiveled in there seat to survey the rest of the bar. "I don't see him."

Krolia paid for the drinks and her and Romelle walked towards the exit in search of Keith.

Much to their surprise, Keith was playing fetch with Kosmo. "Would you look at that," Krolia teased. "I thought you didn't like that mutt."

Keith smiled as Kosmo returned with the stick. Keith bent down to pet his face. "He's a mutt alright. Half amazing, half terrific."

"Parks n Rec," Romelle shouted. "I love that show."

Keith awkwardly smiled at her. "Uhhh hi. I'm Keith."

"Oh I know all about you," Romelle playfully teased. Keith's face started to turn red, thankfully, Krolia stepped in.

"Actually Keith, I was about to buy Romelle here a drink for listening to me ramble on about you. But why don't you do that while I talk to the mechanic." She gave her newfound son a smile and surprisingly he returned it.

"Uhhh yeah sure." He responded as Krolia walked towards him to give him some money. "Play nice, she seems like a sweet girl," she whispered as she handed him the money.

Keith and Rlomelle sat there awkwardly sipping on their respective drinks. A rum and Coke for him, and a vodka cranberry for her. It wasn't the fanciest of bars, but the pretty bartender definitely did make killer drinks. "You're mom's nice," Romelle finally said, breaking the silence between them. He couldn't help but notice her misplaced accent. Certainly foreign.

He awkwardly laughed, "you probably know her better than I do at this point."

"Because you met her a few days ago yeah?"

Keith nearly choked on his own drink. He looked over and saw her with a concerned look in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. It's just that she told me, and i… I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay. It's just… I don't actually know what I'm doing," he said, offering her a reassuring smile. He ordered them both another round, Indiana had very cheap alcohol compared to California. Once the bartender returned with their drinks, he turned his attention back to Romelle. This time he took all of her in. She had beautiful blonde hair that she kept neat and straight with pigtails but not really pigtails, if Keith knew anything about hair other than to wash and occasionally comb it, he would've been able to pinpoint her hair style. But regardless of what style it actually was, he thought she looked beautiful with it. It flowed all the way down to her just above her waist, but it was hard to tell while she was sitting. And while her blonde hair was eye catching, it was the piercing violet eyes that pulled him in. She was truly beautiful.

"I just feel like I should forgive her," he continued once he found his voice again. He was nervous that he may never be able to speak properly in front of her again now that he noticed just how stunning she looked. "But I don't know if I should. She had a chance to find me, but thought it was best to leave me with the family that took me in… that I wasn't good enough." He finished in a whisper, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

Normally he would've called up Allura by this point, telling her everything. If he were still back home in California, he would've driven to Acxa's. She was never one for sharing heart to hearts, but hanging out with her always put his mind at ease. With her, he was able to forget temporarily and just be himself. Hell, he would've called Lance or any of his friends by now, but in typical Keith fashion he blew up at all of them and promptly left the next morning without a word. Some time during the night he mistakenly and drunkenly blocked and deleted all of their contacts, the only thing that kept him in touch with them. He didn't have snapchat, or twitter, or even Instagram. That was all of them. He preferred things the old fashioned way, face to face. That didn't mean he wasn't on Instagram. All his friends had decided to create a hashtag for him under #keithkogane. He loved and missed his friends, but they weren't here. And yet somehow here, in the middle of nowhere Indiana, in some rundown bar, he found himself pouring his soul out to a beautiful girl he just met.

Romelle wasn't too sure what to say. Keith looked completely devastated, and she refused to believe that this man she just met was anything but good enough. Suddenly, the dj started playing a song she's recently started listening to religiously, and an idea came to mind. "I love this song let's dance," she grabbed his arm, not allowing him to say no.

"I don't dance," Keith tried to refute, but the look in Romelle's eyes told him that he was going to lose this fight ten out of ten times. The first few songs weren't that bad, considering they were a variation of country music. Romelle tried to teach him to two step, but in the end he proved that he doesn't dance because he can't. But still, Keith was thoroughly enjoying himself; watching the way Romelle moved with the rhythm, the way she laughed as she was spun around. It wasn't until the latest song had ended that they found themselves back in each other's arms. His smile was much more genuine than when they started. Suddenly the lights dimmed and the beat slowed. (A/N Golden Hour - Kasey Musgraves)

"Surely you can slow dance?" She teased, giving him an out if he wanted. He hadn't slow danced since the senior prom with his date Acxa, and he was so awkward (thankfully, Acxa was just as awkward) that he swore off slow dancing forever. But now, not slow dancing with Romelle was just about the last thing he wanted. Dancing the past hour or so had completely taken his mind off of his situation. For the first time since he left his friends a week and a half ago, he was having fun. And it was all because of her.

Keith pulled Romelle close and they slowly swayed to the soothing beat. Her head rested on his chest as they kept swaying. "I know what you did… And thank you," he whispered into her ear.

"For what?" Romelle asked, obviously playing dumb.

He did his best not to laugh. "The dancing. It's helped. I really appreciate it. You didn't have to do this for a stranger."

"How about a friend?"

Keith didn't respond, instead just closed his eyes and let the music take over. Something about this felt right, and if he wasn't stuck here, he would've been willing to explore this feeling further. "Thirsty?" He heard her ask, and he opened his eyes to look down at her and just stared into her eyes, getting lost in their reflection. It was right then and there that Keith wished more than anything that this was just a dream. If it was, he wouldn't have to leave her so soon.

"That'd be great."

Two more drinks later, courtesy of the bartender who liked Romelle's "sunshiney attitude", Keith finally decided that despite knowing that he would most likely never see this girl again, he wanted to enjoy his time with her. Not wallow in self pity due to their limited time. "So tell me about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" She asked between sips of her apple Martini.

"What brings you here?" It was the wrong question, he realized too late. The pain in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was running from something. "I… sorry. You don't need to talk about it."

She smiled, sliding her hand over his. "Thank you."

"So where are you going?" Based on her face, this was a difficult question as well, but not for the reason he thought.

She sighed, "I don't know. I've just been drifting from place to place. But I've been here for about three weeks. I don't know why but something was keeping here and honestly I wasn't sure what it was… until today."

It took Keith by surprise, and he almost pulled his hand away. Instead he switched so his hand rest on top of hers and he gave it a squeeze. "I hope you're right."

Krolia reappeared to a sight that made her smile. He saw the look the two young adults were sharing… comfort and hope. It as perfect picture, in fact she took out her phone and took one. She had decided that she was going to catalog their entire journey back with Keith. She wasn't sure if her son had Instagram, so instead she just used a simple hashtag with his name. And to her surprise, she wasn't the only one that had used that tag. Suddenly she was staring at hundreds of images of her son with his friends. It made her heart melt that despite all his struggles, there were people that cared about him. The most tags came from two girls named Allura and Acxa, and a man named Takashi. Clearly these were three of his closest friends, and she hoped that she could meet them.

She stared at the photo she just took and debated on whether or not to add it to the four other photos she had posted under the hashtag. But she decided against it, this was a private moment between the two of them.

Feeling eyes on them, they snapped out of their reverie and turned to look at who was staring. Keith had forgotten that his mom was even with him, and all of a sudden all his feelings came pouring back in. But seeing the look on her face made them slowly vanish. She was smiling… his mom was smiling at him.

Maybe it was the alcohol finally taking effect, but he swore that he had never been more at peace.

[belphiesreverie]

Second of the requests! Some fluffy interactions with the Bucci gang for @pezahut

—————————————————————

Let’s just say, your days were usually pretty hectic. When you have 7 friends who all want to spend as much time as possible with you, it gets kinda hard to have a peaceful day.

Mornings were the most relaxing. You spent them with Bruno, slowly waking yourself up as he cooked breakfast for the both of you. He always managed to look so lively, even at 8am, that it filled you with your own energy to face the day.

“Good morning cara, I’ve got some fette biscottate for breakfast today. How many would you like?”

His smooth voice reached your ears and you instantly perked up. He sounded like he was in a good mood, so he most certainly had some interesting stories to tell this morning. One of your favourite things about spending time with Bruno was hearing about all the things that were happening around Naples since he was out and about all the time. He didn’t like to call it gossiping when he told you about all the things he overheard when walking around, but it was most definitely gossiping.

“You sound happy Bruno. Did something interesting happen?”

He placed the plate with your biscuits down in front of you, a devious glint in his eyes. He heard something really interesting.

*

Your next stop for the day was to see Giorno. He had a rather large garden that he tried his hardest to look after, but it was a lot of work for one person. That’s why you volunteered to help him out every morning.

Gardening was something you enjoyed doing anyways and you got to spend time with one of your friends whilst doing it. There was nothing better in your eyes.

You found it rather cute how Giorno would instantly smile when you arrived at his garden every day. It was a small smile, but it made your heart melt.

“Ah, Y/n! Just in time as usual. Thanks again for always coming to help me out!”

You two didn’t talk much, but it was still very enjoyable with small conversations peppering the comfortable silence every now and again. Just being in such a pretty and tranquil environment with Giorno was brought to put you at ease and prepare you for the chaos the rest of the day had in store.

*

Trish was your up next and she was probably your last chance to relax again until later in the evening.

It always amazed you how organised and neat Trish’s room was whenever you went in there. With how much stuff she owned, it was a mystery how she found the energy and patience to always make sure everything was in its proper place.

“Y/n! Can you grab my lipgloss for me? It’s on the bedside table.”

You noted Trish was in the middle of styling her hair and had already gotten dressed and applied most of her makeup. You must’ve spent longer in the garden today since usually you’d help Trish pick out what she was going to wear. Maybe Giorno had added some more flowers and you hadn’t noticed?

Waking over to Trish with the lipgloss in hand, you helped with the finishing touches to her hair. She didn’t seem annoyed that you’d come up later than usual, but you knew it meant you’d be spending a little more time with her this morning, which you didn’t mind at all. After all, you two had quite a lot in common and nothing could beat being able to lounge around and talk with Trish for a few hours.

*

You finally left Trish’s room when Mista was practically about to bash the door down with his knocking. Time had flown by and now you had to go out for lunch with him.

You appreciated Mista letting you choose where you went to eat whenever you went out since he would normally choose the same couple of places. However, you liked to visit all types of establishments from the popular restaurants to the more niche cafe’s.

“So, where are we going on our date today?”

Mista always made jokes about these lunch trips being dates and despite knowing that he was just kidding around, it never failed to make heat rush to your cheeks. Although lately, it was getting harder to convince yourself he was just joking around.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind, you dragged Mista along to a quaint little cafe you’d been wanting to try out for the longest time. Letting yourself relax in the comforting atmosphere, you chatted endlessly with Mista and listened to him complain about all the trouble the pistols had been causing him.

*

Standing in front of the door to your next destination, you had to prepare yourself for what was to come next. From the sounds that were coming through the walls, you already knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

Pushing the door open, the sound of yelling increased tenfold and you knew you’d have to break those two up before they started throwing things. It was honestly a miracle how Narancia and Fugo still persisted in with hear tutoring sessions despite them always ending in chaos.

“Ah, y/n! Tell Fugo his teaching sucks and he needs to get better if he wants me to understand what he’s saying!”

“As if! You need to actually start paying attention and try to start using your brain! There’s noting wrong with the way I teach!”

The two continued to bicker back and forth as you made your way further inside the room. Picking up the worksheets that had been thrown about in a fit of rage from one of the boys, you made your way towards the table they were sat at.

You gave them the look and they immediately settled down. With a little more nudging, you managed to get them to apologise to each other and try the problem again, minus the yelling. Sitting down, you continued to watch them try and fail to subtly poke and prod at each other without you noticing.

*

Letting out a big sigh, you relaxed into the spot on the sofa next to Abbacchio. He acknowledged your presence with a small nod in your direction before taking a sip of his wine and returning his gaze back to the book in his hands.

You two were the only ones up right now, but that’s how you liked it. Since everyone else was always pulling you this way or that, you never really got to spend any time with Abbacchio. The time you got with him was always cherished as you always felt relaxed in his presence. Whether that was because you felt safe around him or it was just because he was one of the few people around here who knew what the word calm meant, you couldn’t really tell.

“You want a sip?”

Shifting your gaze over to Abbacchio, you saw him holding out his wine glass for you. Accepting it with a small smile, you took a little sip before returning it to him.

The wine was sweet which is something you’d come to expect from Abbacchio’s taste in wine. You’d inquired if he liked bitter wines before, but he didn’t give you a straight answer, just saying that he ‘doesn’t drink bitter wine anymore’. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t want to pry.

Slowly, the exhaustion from the day started rolling in and you could feel your eyes closing, finding it hard to fight off the sensation of sleep. Your head fell to the side and onto Abbacchio’s shoulder. If he was bothered by it, he didn’t say anything, instead letting you slowly drift off to sleep accompanied by the rhythmic sound of pages turning.

You awoke in your room the next day feeling refreshed and prepared to do it all again.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Follow My Lead |Tom Hiddleston x OFC |Chapter 2 | He sipped the wine, avoiding the elephant called his bare ass, in the room

A/N: This will update every Thursday.  There are 13 chapters.  There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships.  This is the one I choose to write this time.

Series Masterlist Here

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship.  When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian.  Which is the one thing he never knew he needed.  Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship.  But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter:  Tom and Vivian take the first steps in this relationship, including a first date and a first kiss.  And Tom discovers Vivian is not like any other person he has dated before.  Can he step up to the task?

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Taglists are open!  Please let me know if you wish to be added!  Thank you for reading!

-

Vivian returned to read her book while Tom waited in line for coffee. She didn’t look over her shoulder, but she could tell Tom was sneaking glances at her. He soon returned with two espressos. Vivian preferred a sweeter coffee, but the chocolate chip scone more than made up for it. She replaced the book back into her tote while Tom nervously sipped.

Vivian stared at him as she broke apart the scone with her fingers, popping bites into her mouth. She offered him half of which he accepted with a smile.

“Ask the question, Thomas.” she stated, leaning back in her chair.

Tom chuckled as he folded his hands in his lap. “Am I that transparent?”

“No, that predictable. It’s always the first question.” She finished up the espresso. “Go on, ask it.”

Tom sighed, his face a bundle of nerves. “So how does it work?”

Vivian smirked. “Depends.” Tom’s eyebrows raised and the two of them burst in laughter.

“I deserved that.” Tom laughed.

“Not entirely. But it’s the truth. Every relationship, vanilla or not, is different. But nothing happens without consent.”

“Good to know.” he finished up his coffee and half a scone.

Vivian narrowed her eyes, sizing Tom up with fresh eyes. “You know, if you are looking for kinky sex, there are professionals who can whip your ass and make you lick their boots.”

Tom coughed as he choked on the last of the scone. “Forward, as always. I am well aware of the niche services out there. I am not looking for a one time thing or anything casual. I want a committed relationship. I apologize if I wasn’t clear.”

“No, you were. But I run into a lot of men who say they want a relationship, but what they really want is to play 24/7 and a woman to fulfill all of their dark fantasies. It was never about me. Just a kink dispenser.”

Tom nodded. “I can only imagine the hurt and anger you must have felt.”

It touched Vivian at how empathetic Tom was. Something definitely missing from previous subs.

“What does your work schedule look like?” She changed the subject.

“I’m between projects right now. A few meetings and events here or there, but for the next three months I am mostly reading scripts and hanging around the house.

“Would you like some extra reading?”

Tom smirked. “I’ve already read Anna Karenina.”

“Not exactly. Can I have your phone number, please?”

Tom rattled off the number. Vivian typed on her phone, glancing at Tom a few times before hitting send. His phone dinged, and he fished it out of his pocket, reading her message.

“You want me to read these books?” He quirked an eyebrow. The titles of some books listed piqued his interest. Tom read a bit about this after his last failed relationship, but Vivian had more experience in this arena.

“Yes, please. And then write a 500 word email on what you are looking to get out of this relationship.” She gathered her belongings. “Think of it as homework.” She smiled at him.

Tom scrambled to his feet. “What happens next?”

“We date. We go out to dinner. To the movies. We flirt. Figure out if we like each other. If we are compatible.”

“And if we are?”

“We set up a trial period. We discuss expectations. Now if you excuse me, I have a hair appointment. It has been very nice to meet you properly.”

Tom held open the door and followed her out to the sidewalk. “Dinner tonight? You pick the place.”

She tilted her head at him and smiled, reaching up to pat his cheek. “How about tomorrow? I’m thinking Italian. 7 p.m. Text me the name and address please.”

Tom nodded. “I look forward to it.”

They parted ways with a hug and Tom kissing her cheek. Once she rounded the corner, Tom pulled a ball cap out and searched for a nearby bookstore.

-

There were many who would consider a blowout a luxury, but to Vivian it was a necessity. Her thick, irregularly wavy locks were a nightmare to tame on the best of days. Her standing Saturday appointment was something she never cancelled unless she was out of town or too sick to get out of bed. As the stylist pulled and tugged at her hair, coaxing it into big loopy curls like you see in all the magazines, Vivian replayed the conversation with Tom in the coffee shop.

First, she chastised herself for not recognizing him the first night in the bar. Second, she wondered if this was too good to be true. A bona fide movie star. Not that his status mattered in the long run, but Tom was looking for a lifestyle relationship. The little goblin in the back of her brain screamed, “HE JUST WANTS KINKY SEX!!!” But then she reminded herself not once did Tom mention sex.

While she stood at the counter paying, her phone buzzed. It was Tom. Such an eager beaver.

Hit the lottery at the local bookstore.

Attached was a photo of all the books she told him to read with Tom’s head poking in, a huge boyish grin on his face along with a thumbs up. She couldn’t help but laugh.

Good job. Aren’t you eager?

She turned the camera on and took a quick selfie. How’s my hair look?

Tom responded within 5 minutes. Divine. I made reservations for Il Sugo tomorrow at 7.

She danced a bit in place. One of her favorites. And the fact Tom wasted no time complying with her request pleased her to no end.

I know the place. Thank you for doing that right away.

Tom beamed at the praise, his cheeks heating and blushing as he made his way home to read his “homework” from Vivian.

My pleasure. Is there anything else before tomorrow?

Vivian licked her lips as she contemplated his question.

Wear the suit from Bloomsbury.

She trotted back towards her apartment when a dress in one of the clothing stores caught her eyes. Navy with a faux wrap detail and a deep vee neckline. The dress would highlight her assets and she had the perfect Louboutins to go along with it. Not to mention it would match Tom’s suit. She tried on the dress, loved and plunked down her credit card to pay.

-

Tom was ready 30 minutes before he even needed to leave the house. Unheard for him. While he made a point to be on time, no early, for all his professional obligations; his personal life didn’t always get the same attention.

He tugged on his cuffs and adjusted the gold cufflinks before smoothing down his jacket lapels. This suit, the one Vivian asked him to wear, was among his favorite, with the dark blue color and a thin white line running both horizontally and vertically. It cut close to his lean frame, and the blue suited his features. His phone beeped.

Nervous?

Tom frowned at Benedict’s message. He regretted letting his friend know about his date.

No. He lied. Tom wasn’t ready to reveal the true nature of this relationship yet.

Turn on that signature Hiddles charm and she will be putty in your hands.

Tom sweated. He hoped it would be more like him being putty in Vivian’s.

Right, mate. Got to go, Don’t want to be late.

Tom grabbed his keys and headed out the door, missing Benedict’s last message.

Make sure to tell me everything tomorrow.

-

Vivian completed the same ritual she did every time before a date. After soaking in a bath, with an oil in her signature scent, she toweled off. She applied an eye look that was sultry but not too heavy. A glossy lip and dark lashes completed the look. She slipped on her new dress and her shoes. The mesh details were reminiscent of lingerie. Her diamond swan necklace and a small clutch and she hustled out the door.

-

When Vivian walked up to Il Sugo, she found Tom pacing the storefront. His face broke out into a grin when he saw her approaching. He grabbed Vivian’s hand and kissed her cheek.

“I wanted to wait for you before going inside.”

“Thank you.” Vivian kissed his cheek too, the first kissing him anywhere. His cologne was woodsy and heady.

“That dress is divine.” he complimented, holding his arm for Vivian to spin. “The shoes though, how tall are you in those things?”

“I’m 5’10”, these are about four-inch heels, so 6’ 2”.”

“Perfect.” Tom murmured. He opened the door for her.

The restaurant was warm and cozy. And the food divine as always. Vivian ordered the seafood risotto and Tom the Bolognese. As they waited for their entrees, Vivian folded her hands on top of the table.

“So tell me about your work.”

Tom sipped his water. “So I just finished up a play at the Old Vic and I have about three months before I am due in Atlanta for my new project with Marvel. After that, a series for Netflix filming in London. Have you seen any of my work?”

Vivian’s cheek heated before regaining her composure. “I have.”

Tom smiled at her. “Well, you called me the God of Mischief so at least one MCU film and based on your hushed tone, I am guessing The Night Manager?” He tucked his head to stare Vivian directly in the eye.

“Yes.” she did her best not to blush.

“I’m quite proud of that work. Was nominated for an Emmy, won a Golden Globe. Quite proud of all my work.” He sipped the wine, avoiding the elephant called his bare ass, in the room.

“What is like at the Golden Globes?” she asked.

“Long.” he laughed. “But at least they feed you.”

Vivian giggled too. “Are you always this charming?”

“No.” he deadpanned. “Normally, I’m more charming. You put me quite off balance, Ms. Swann.” She liked how her name sounded when he said it. “From the first meeting. How do you manage that?”

“Practice, confidence, and a good pair of heels.” She kicked her foot out.

“Perhaps I need to invest in some new shoes.” Tom teased, the thought of him in high heels flashed through Vivian’s brain for a moment. She smiled to herself.

“I think yours are just fine.” She kicked the bottom on his oxfords with the toe of her heel before dragging it up his leg mid-calf. Tom choked on his water. “So I know what your job plans are, but what is work like?”

“Rewarding but exhausting.” he commented. “What being a globally renowned corporate barrister? It must be draining.”

Vivian’s eyes sparkled. “You Googled me.”

“Guilty.”

She held her sip of wine against her tongue. “It’s exhilarating. A total adrenaline rush. The stakes are high and I call the shots.” Vivian beamed as she talked about it.

“Don’t you ever want to not be the one calling the shots. Do you ever want someone say ‘do this’ and not have to think about it?”

“No. Do you?”

“Absolutely. I prefer my personal life to be as few decisions as possible. Wear the same clothes all the time. Jog the same route. Eat the same food.”

“And what if it was someone telling you what to do?”

“Honestly, it would be a relief.”

“Even if it were a woman.”

“Even if it were a woman.” Tom parroted, as the server placed the food on the tables. Tom waited until Vivian took a bit before eating. That’s just good manners.

“How is the risotto?”

“Delicious as always, your Bolognese?”

“Delicious, but mine’s better.”

Vivian raised a manicured eyebrow at him. “You cook?”

“When the need arises.”

“Do you clean too? I’m looking for a new maid.” She chuckled, half joking.

“Not as well as I should. Bachelor life has made me somewhat lazy in that regard. My mother would be ashamed.”

“I’m sure we can fix that.” She finished up her food and set her fork down. “What is your mother like?”

Tom wiped his mouth as he ate the last few bites of food. “Kind, hardworking, independent. I doubt I would be where I am today without her. Now my sisters…”

“I have one younger sister. You?”

“One older and one younger. And they are brutal. Talk about the Night Manager. The text messages they would send me. I am never living that down. Ever.”

“Sounds like my kind of girls.”

The server dropped by the table. “Dessert?’

Tom looked at Vivian expectantly.

“Would like to split something, Tom? Your choice of dessert.”

His eyes lit up, and he ordered whatever chocolate dessert was on the menu. Lava cake, flourless cake, some cake. Vivian didn’t care, but she enjoyed seeing Tom happy. The server returned with the dessert and two spoons. She took a small bite as Tom devoured his half and leaped onto the rest of hers. He insisted on paying the bill which Vivian agreed to only on the condition she paid next time.

The day had been unseasonably warm for June, and Vivian didn’t wear a jacket. And now the night air nipped at her bare shoulders. Tom slipped his suit jacket over her, the residual warmth of his body clung to the lining. She grabbed the lapels and pulled it tighter around her.

“Walk me home, please?” she asked rather than demand.

Tom smiled at her. “How else am I getting my jacket back?”

They walked the several blocks to Vivian’s flat in silence, her gripping onto his jacket for dear life. Tom shoved his hands into his pants pockets, doing his best impression of a man not cold. When they arrived at the lobby entrance, Vivian slid the jacket off her shoulders and handed it back to Tom.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

His hands twiddled in front of him. An awkward gesture Vivian found endearing. Just as Tom leaned in for a hug, she grabbed his shirt front and pulled him into a kiss. Tom’s feet scrambled for purchase against the sidewalk as Vivian yanked him forward. Her lips soft against his and he melted to her. His hands fidgeted in the air, not doing what to do with them until landing on cupping her face, catching tendrils of her hair in his fingers.

Tom couldn’t catch a breath as Vivian pressed against him. Her perfume made his brain go fuzzy, or was that the kissing? Tom didn’t know or care. He just wanted to keep kissing her forever. When Vivian pulled away, Tom leaned forward, desperate for contact. She flattened her hand against his chest to hold him in place.

“Goodnight, Tom.” She pecked his lips and backed away before he could pull her into an embrace.

He sighed as his chest heaved. “Can I call you tomorrow? After work?”

She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I work late.”

“I don’t go to bed early. Please text me when you get home. Whatever the hour. I want to hear your voice.” He pushed her hair back.

“Call me at 11?”

“I’m setting an alarm.” He whipped his phone for dramatic effect. Vivian playfully pushed him away as she headed to the door.

“Goodnight, Thomas. And don’t forget your homework.”

“I haven’t!” he called after her.

Tom floated his way back down the street and to the restaurant to fetch his car and head home. The ride home was a blur, and he stripped down to his boxers, tossing the clothes onto the floor, before slipping between his sheets and drifting off to bed.

Vivian washed off her makeup and did her skincare routine before changing into pajamas and placing her clothes in the hamper. She sighed as she thought of Tom. His soft lips and eager hands. Vivian was eager to take the relationship to the next step, but all too aware that rushing things with someone new like Tom could turn disastrous. She grabbed her book from the nightstand and read a chapter before going to bed.

[sailorbadger]

Book Review - 6 modern female-led Robin Hood adaptations

In the past 8 months or so I have read/watched/listened to over 30 different Robin Hood adaptations. Over the summer I found myself reading almost exclusively adaptations that were written by women and centered women in the story one way or another. (I also found out that “lesbian Robin Hood” is a whole genre on its own.) I decided to write short reviews for 6 of these books since I know I have followers that probably share my enjoyment of this particular niche. 

This post includes spoiler-free reviews for the following books

Outlaw and Scarlet by Niamh Murphy

Nottingham: The True Story of Robyn Hood by Anna Burke

Hood by Jenny Elder Moke

Marian, Princess Thief by C.K. Brooke

Heart of Sherwood by Edale Lane

The rest of the post will be under the cut since this is quite long.

Despite the fact that I read other books that could technically fit this same category, I decided to focus on these six in my review because these ones are easily accessible to most of my audience (meaning that they are in English and new enough - the oldest one being from 2018 I think - so that you should be able to find them easily). 

I tried to keep these reviews relatively short and spoiler-free. That means that describing specific plot points is impossible because in most of these, the basic premise is the typical Robin Hood origin story. I tried to focus on my general feelings about the books and the characters and their relationships. 

I won’t be doing any numerical ratings. I know that the order in which I read these impacted on how I felt about them. If I had read them in a different order, I would probably feel differently about some of them. That’s why it’s difficult for me to give any real ratings. The reviews are not in any real order either, apart from my favorite being the last one.

These reviews are also about 75% serious and 25% not serious. When my friend and I started to go through all these different Robin Hood adaptations, we made a bingo card that features tropes/themes/details found in a lot of different versions of the story. I’ll leave quick comments on the reviews on how each of these did, but I won’t go too much into detail on those.

Niamh Murphy: Outlaw & Scarlet

I grouped these two books together because they are the first two parts of a series. My understanding is that the author does plan on eventually releasing more, but since Scarlet was released this year, it might take a while. If a third book does come out, I might read it, but I’m not in a hurry to reread these two.

Outlaw tells the story of how Robyn, the daughter of a baron, ends up becoming an outlaw. If you are familiar with at least a few Robin Hood adaptations, you will know how it goes. There are no big surprises, but I suppose the purpose of this story is to introduce us to the characters and set the scene for the later books. Scarlet continues Robyn’s story and introduces a new character to the story. (I won’t go too much into details on the second book to avoid spoilers, since its plot does not follow familiar beats as much as the first one.)

Besides the books on this list, I have also read/watched/listened to several other Robin Hood adaptations as well, and when it comes to plot, Outlaw lands in the “uninteresting” section. There was nothing new or exciting there, and seeing that I have spent most of the year in a Robin Hood -bubble, I was left wanting more. Scarlet was a slight improvement seeing as Outlaw was mostly a very generic Robin Hood origin story. Together they still feel like this is just the beginning of a longer story, so I hope that if a third book comes out we get into the real action.

Outlaw is marketed as a “lesbian retelling” of the Robin Hood story, but compared to some of the other titles on this list, I was left wanting more. The romance aspect is barely there, so if you’re going to pick these up for Robyn and Marian’s relationship, prepare for slow burn. 

The characters didn’t leave a huge impression on me. I do have to say that the Sheriff’s wife was interesting and I wish we had gotten more of her. Other than her, I felt that at times many of the characters could have been from any adaptation. 

Overall, there wasn’t anything really wrong with these books, but they just didn’t entertain me as much as the others. I feel that if I had read these before all the other ones on this list, I would have enjoyed them more. Outlaw and Scarlet are a good read for someone who wants a basic Robin Hood story with a lesbian lead. I still think that marketing the first book as a “lesbian retelling” is setting unrealistic expectations for some, but I hope that in the future the series really earns that title.

I completely forgot to fill out a bingo card for these two and at this point I have forgotten many of the details so unfortunately we’ll never know the result. Most of the tropes hit were so general they probably weren’t on our card anyway.

Anna Burke: Nottingham: The True Story of Robyn Hood

Out of all of the books in this list, Anna Burke’s Nottingham is perhaps the most explicit in its queerness. Although the story obviously doesn’t use modern labels, I would say that it includes representation for (at least) lesbian, bi and trans character(s). None of this feels too out-of-place, and instead Nottingham offers a (mostly) historically accurate Robin Hood tale with a queer main cast.

The plot mostly follows your typical Robin Hood -formula: After a hunting accident, Robyn becomes an outlaw, surrounds herself with loyal friends and helps those in need. This aspect of the book doesn’t offer any new ideas or challenge the existing ideas about Robin Hood as a story. However, it focuses more on the characters, so it doesn’t really need anything new. Marian especially has to come to terms with her feelings towards Robyn and women in general. I do have to say though, that the romance between Robyn and Marian happens a little fast - they only meet a few times before falling in love. [Insert joke about lesbians moving too fast here] It didn’t bother me too much, but I do wish there had been a little more buildup. 

From this list, I read this book the most recently. It may be that I was just so burned out from reading all these Robin Hood -stories but I didn’t connect with the book that well. I enjoyed it, but I wish there had been more of that fun sense of adventure I look for in these stories. 

I would recommend Nottingham to anyone who wants to read a story that manages to be historically accurate and use the Robin Hood mythos to its advantage while not shying away from its portrayal of queerness. Although it did not hold my attention as well as some of the other books, it is still written well and has a good story.

This book didn’t get a bingo unless you interpret “lähentely* which is uncomfortable for the audience” as the sex scene (there is sex in this book but nothing that explicit, I would say high T/low M in Ao3-ratings) being uncomfortable for the reader OR the third person in that scene being uncomfortable. About half of the bingo card was still filled.

*I couldn’t come up with a good translation for this word, it means something along the lines of making moves/coming onto someone/making advances, though for this bingo I use it to generally mean anything flirty/intimate/sexual/etc.

 Jenny Elder Moke: Hood

This book was the first one on this list I read. Compared to the other novels, I would say that Hood is the least like your typical Robin Hood story. The book follows Isabelle, Robin and Marian’s daughter, who has to find her father in order to save her mother. The adventure is brand new, though there are still familiar characters and the basic concept of Robin Hood is honored. This is a story about the next generation of outlaws, so if you’re looking for something that focuses on characters from the legends, you may be disappointed.

Speaking of the characters, I loved Little, Patrick and Helena. I could have just read a book where this group of young outlaws has adventures and been satisfied. Unfortunately I didn’t connect well with the main lead, Isabelle, and the love interest, Adam, felt like a very generic hot guy from a YA novel. The romance itself is practically non-existent, and honestly I could have done without it. Seriously, I had completely forgotten about that whole thing until I started writing this review. This story is more about Isabelle’s relationship with her parents, which I like. She also gets to build genuine friendships with the other characters. I just wish the book had been a little longer so that it could have spent more time developing some of these relationships.

Had I read this book when I was a teenager, I most likely would have loved it a lot more. It is YA, and at times it really shows. As far as Robin Hood stories go, I generally enjoy the “outlaws being outlaws in the forest” content the most, and unfortunately this featured surprisingly little of it. It still offered its own take on what could happen after the legends everyone knows, even if it doesn’t add much to the legends themselves.

It is important that I mention here that if Allan has a child in an adaptation, this child must be named either Allan jr. or Alana. This book fulfills this basic need for me and I am satisfied. It also checked most of the boxes on the bingo, and I almost filled the whole sheet. So somehow, despite not really following the typical Robin Hood formula, Hood managed to include all the important tropes.

If you are a teenager who enjoys Robin Hood -stories, I would definitely recommend this book. It’s not the best YA novel out there, but it’s a good standalone story. I think that for adults, this can be a good read if you are a fan of Robin Hood -stories and/or enjoy this type of YA anyway. I wasn’t sure what type of book this was when I started reading, but if you just prepare yourself for a fun adventure aimed at young teens, you can enjoy this. It’s very quick to read, I think I read it in one day.

Also, I must quote a review I saw on Storygraph (imagine this is in all caps) : “hjsxhfjsdksfjk???????????? Patrick best character no cap”

C. K. Brooke: Marian, Princess Thief

In Marian, Princess Thief, Robin Hood doesn’t exist at all. Instead the story follows Marian, who in this version is a princess, who escaped an assassination attempt and is now living in the forest as an outlaw with six other women - the genderbent versions of the Merry Men. Eventually there is a romance in this book as well, but the biggest force carrying through the book is the friendship between the women. If I had to describe the novel in just one word, I would say it’s lovable. If I had to describe it in two, I would say it’s dissappointingly heterosexual. 

Maybe the fact that I found a genre that is basically “lesbian Robin Hood” has ruined me, but how can you write a story that features seven women living in the forest as outlaws, and not one of them is queer? This is entirely a thing that bothers me personally, and the book doesn’t need queer representation to be good, but there is no reason to not include it. Headcanons can fortunately go a long way, but I’m just saying that you could easily keep everything about Scarlett’s backstory the same except make her a lesbian. (In fact, I’m 98% joking when I say that her not being a lesbian is a homophobic choice. I will elaborate on this if you ask me but I won’t go too much into it here because I would have to explain things about other adaptations as well.)

As for the straight romance, I can’t say that I was feeling it. I could see the points where I was supposed to feel something, so maybe it’s just the fact that I’m aspec myself, but I didn’t care that much about it. Still, it was refreshing to see a story where the romance doesn’t overshadow the friendships between the women, and instead they are valued just as much (if not more) as the romantic relationship. The story doesn’t dig too deeply into the characters, but I still loved all the women. (I don’t care about the male lead. But I know others who would.)

I think the biggest “problem” this book has (apart from not making Scarlett a lesbian) is that the ending feels just a little bit rushed compared to the rest of the novel. I still think that the novel achieves everything it tries to do, but I could have used one more chapter to flesh out the climax.

The bingo card wasn’t even close to being full, but you know what, Marian, Princess Thief is good enough as it is and doesn’t need to follow all the familiar tropes. Still, how hard is it to include a bird?

This was a very quick read, in fact I basically just read it all in one go. I would definitely recommend it to anyone who wants to read something lighthearted and, like me, is often disappointed by the lack of women in Robin Hood stories.

To end this, I will leave you with a translated quote from my WhatsApp commentary: “What is it that in all these Robin Hood stories these old dudes are all after these young maidens like get yourself a hot milf and leave the kids alone”

Edale Lane: Heart of Sherwood

Heart of Sherwood is my favorite Robin Hood -novel that I have read so far. It has just about everything I could want: good characters, a fun sense of adventure, political scheming, great relationships (both romantic and platonic) and a good ending. I was less than two chapters into this book when I knew that this would be a difficult one to top.

The premise of this book is very similar to Burke’s Nottingham: both follow the story of Robyn becoming an outlaw, making friends with the other Merry (Wo)Men and developing a relationship with Marian. I don’t want to compare these two stories too much, but I did prefer the more lighthearted tone of Heart of Sherwood. This was also the first book where I was actually invested in the romance. Normally in pretty much all Robin Hood adaptations, the relationship between Robin and Marian doesn’t interest me greatly; I don’t mind it, but it’s not something I have too many personal feelings about. However, only a few chapters into Heart of Sherwood I thought: “If these two don’t get a happy ending I’m going to jump out of the window.” (I won’t spoil where this threat ended up going.)

One thing I appreciate about the romance in this one is that Robyn and Marian already know each other, so I didn’t have to deal with a romance that develops too fast. The novel also had other things to offer besides being a “lesbian Robin Hood” story, so I didn’t feel like I had to enjoy the romance to enjoy the whole story. I was very invested the whole way through, and out of all the books I’ve reviewed here, this one made me the most emotional. 

As a fan of the BBC show, I do have to say that this novel had a very similar vibe; there was a good balance of action and humor. Maybe that was a part of why I enjoyed this so much. I was also able to predict exactly how certain things would end up. I kind of wish I would have been more surprised. 

This novel is well paced, it is exactly the right length for the story it’s telling and overall I can’t really find things to complain about. If I wasn’t petty, I would give this book full five stars, but because I am petty, for very personal reasons I’m giving it 4,99999… stars. As for the bingo, this one filled most of the sheet.

I’ll end this review with this random line I had shared on WhatsApp for some reason: ""Does this mean I am dead?" Alan asked in jest. - - - "Nay; same annoying jester, alive as ever, and likely wanting for a pint about now."”

Conclusion

Writing these reviews was surprisingly difficult because most of the stories follow the same formula, so commenting on anything that moves away from said formula could be considered a spoiler. Hopefully if you read this far you were still interested enough in at least one of these books and feel inspired to read them. I would happily recommend any of them, and if you want to know my more detailed thoughts on them, feel free to message me. The same applies to all the adaptations I’ve gone through. I have Thoughts that I’m dying to share. 

[girlsbtrs]

Me, Taylor, and The Search for Musical Legitimacy

Written by Lila Danielsen-Wong. Graphic by James Nida Grey.

As a child, whenever I took art classes, they were full of girls. I took group piano lessons with four other girls from my neighborhood. Any theatre I was involved in casted regardless of gender because there were never enough boys to fit a show. My middle school orchestra was about three quarters girls. 

It came as a shock that when I started getting involved in any songwriting I could do, I was suddenly in the minority. The few all-ages open mics I could go to were set up by dad-types and primarily populated by their friends of the same demographic. Teenage rock band-type boys dominated the non-classical learning spaces. 

However, this isn’t about them, this is about me, Lila Danielsen-Wong, a girl you’ve probably never heard of, and a girl you probably have heard of. Her name is Taylor Swift.

In 2010, I was a sixth-grade latchkey kid who spent a whole lot of time watching music videos on YouTube. Taylor Swift had just released her third studio album, Speak Now. Although many girls my age had been enchanted by Fearless, I was a pretentious and precocious preteen who was resistant to popular things, and was much more interested in niche Boston folk singer-songwriters like Antje Duvekot and Lori McKenna. 

However, niche Boston folk singer-songwriters don’t really make lots of YouTube content geared at middle schoolers, so the YouTube recommendations led me from my folk corner, to The Band Perry, to a song called White Horse. 

This snowballed into me listening to every Taylor Swift song on Youtube, to learning to play the piano chords to each of them, to writing complete songs of my own. Although I’d been writing simple piano melodies for years, songwriting now occupied every corner of my brain in nearly every free moment. When I learned Dear John, I decided it didn’t sound as good on piano, so I decided I needed to play it on guitar. I snuck into my mother’s room and learned to play an E chord. Soon, all I did was practice guitar and write songs. I wanted to write like she did, to articulate my feelings as well as she did, so precisely that everyone who listened understood not only me, but themselves better. However, I was not ready to publicly be someone who listened to Taylor Swift. Occasionally a YouTube comment would remove me from Taylor world and remind me “All of her fans are teenage girls.” At eleven I didn’t have the words or the context to understand why that so briskly discredited her. I knew it was an insult, and I knew it was an insult that worked. 

Flash forward two years, I was one of the youngest writers at a summer songwriter lab geared toward teens that one of the local theatres held yearly. Remember the rock boys I was talking about? This is when we became acquainted. We had just come back from writing songs in our randomly assigned groups. I had a hard time contributing, being a not-quite-high-schooler who’d never tried co-writing. One of the older girls was talking to the rock boys and I remember the conversation word for word. One of the rock boys asked her how the session went. She responded “eh, it was all girls,” to which the boy said “mine too, a lot of just-singer girls, you know cause of like, Taylor Swift.” They laughed and went on to complain about the younger songwriter girls who “don’t even know what they were doing.”

The conversation they were having, “Taylor Swift, a frivolous girly artist, is encouraging frivolous girls to come into our serious artist spaces and making them frivolous,” stuck with me through my teen years, and it wasn’t until recently that I started to understand. Taylor Swift found success because she could connect with girls like me, and I found my absolute favorite thing, my life calling, because of Taylor Swift; but Taylor Swift was being discredited because of me, and I was being discredited because of Taylor Swift. 

In older interviews, Taylor talks about how after the first time she went to Nashville to pitch herself to labels, she heard nothing. So she decided she needed to be different, and that’s when she started writing songs. At that moment, I realized that I was going to have to be (crucify me) “not like other girls” if I wanted to be taken seriously or have my ideas heard. The next day I came back to the young songwriters lab with my viola instead of my guitar, and managed to finesse my way into playing on nearly half the songs in the showcase. 

I don’t need a list of MLA cited sources to explain that art geared to girls and young women is dismissed. It is not a hot take to say that art created by young women is often instantly devalued. Taylor Swift wrote music about girls and young women for girls and young women, and she didn’t have much interest in being a sex symbol. Not that there’s anything wrong with female artists who use their sexuality, but Taylor Swift gave the men who gate-keep musical legitimacy nothing they wanted from her. Still, she wrote Speak Now with no co-writers before she was old enough to legally drink. She followed it up with Red, a diverse transition album that showed off her songwriting range. 1989 broke records, started an 80’s pop revival and seamlessly transitioned her into pop. Taylor Swift was everywhere, and yet I heard the same things echo. 

“She isn’t a real artist because she only writes about relationships.” 

“Her audience is just rabid fans who don’t know anything about real music.”

“She’s just a pop star who won’t stand the test of time.”

I spent the tail end of 2015 writing songs that emulated the rhythmic lyrics of 1989, but if anyone asked who my musical influences were, I’d often omit her and stick with niche Boston folk singer-songwriters. Me and my music were not going to get pegged as a naive and shallow fangirl.

It was my freshman year of college. I was at my local state school because I couldn’t really afford to go to any of the music programs I wanted to go to, when I ran into a friend who I knew from the songwriting labs. She invited me to the guitar club that she ran, and of course I went. Although the rock boys weren’t the majority numbers wise, they dominated the room. They asked about my beat up Guild guitar. Impressed with how I inherited it from a rocker guy my dad works with, they encouraged me to play a song. I pulled out my most meticulously crafted coming-of-age ballad, and let them hear my line, “we’re all cynics and romantics, it’s semiotics and semantics,” to which they responded “cute song.” 

With the release of Folklore and Evermore, there’s been a shift. After teaming up with Aaron Desner of the National and Bon Iver, Taylor got a bit of that male approval that she never really needed. Pitchfork commented, with surprise, that Folklore showed “some real signs of maturity.” Each album that an artist releases should probably be more mature than the last. Surprise at lyrical maturity from a 30-year-old songwriter who penned lines like “you come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you” as a teen, comes across a little underhanded. 

Much of the next generation of musicians have been influenced by Taylor. Conan Grey’s TikTok hit Heather was based on Last Kiss. Rising it-girl Olivia Rodrigo is a hardcore fan. Even Phoebe Bridgers, who has been memed as “Taylor Swift for girls with crumbs in their beds” or “Taylor Swift for people whose parents still love each other” lists Taylor Swift as an influence. Although this new shift is one for Taylor Swift and not a change in the ingrained biases against women and their art, I wonder if it’s going to trickle down to the artists she influenced. 

My favorite line in Evermore, Swift’s latest studio album ft. sad dad rock, comes in the second verse of Coney Island. In this song, Matt Berninger of The National slides in and out, singing lines in less predictable blocks than in other Swift collaborations. Together, Swift and Berninger coo “do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care.” It’s funny to hear one of the world’s biggest superstars share a line so monumental to the album. I wonder if it’s because she knows how much louder it will be when a man is holding up the low ends. 

[the-magnus-backlogs]

Statement of Suzanna Harkness regarding a manuscript she reviewed for publishing.

Statement taken direct from subject, 27th December 1993.

You wind up stumbling down a lot of weird rabbit holes when you work for a small press long enough. Niche genres you’d really rather remain oblivious to, arts majors trying to break the mould by submitting something they swear up and down you’ll have ‘never seen before’. Never mind if it’s actually legible, but that’s…that’s another matter, I guess. I’m not here to talk about the subpar sci-fi erotica or whatever, I’m here because I found something weird.

I’d like to say right off the bat that I’ve got a strong stomach. Wouldn’t have lasted this long in the company if I didn’t. We only publish a couple hundred books a year, but we take in all sorts around here. Sometimes it feels like our only real submission requirements are ‘unmarketable to the general public’, and it seems like anybody with a half-baked idea is willing to try their luck at tossing their unedited manuscript into the ring.

That’s where I come in. Wading through the mountains of unusable garbage, hunting for hidden gems. I’ve even found a couple, but mostly it’s just about finding something readable. Or something we can pass off as being readable for those rare readers capable of ‘comprehending the author’s artistic vision’. Yeah, the marketing team winds up throwing phrases like that around a lot.

Maybe I’m being unfair. I was a lot more patient about that sort of thing when I started. So preoccupied with not coming across as judgemental, but I’ve worked in publishing over ten years now.

It used to be more common for us to get manuscripts sent in through the post, back then. Nowadays it’s pretty much all done online. A couple we get from literary agents, but most are just emailed in by aspiring writers who stumbled across our site, usually after receiving their rejection letters from the two dozen publishing houses that show up above us on pretty much any search engine.

Every once in a blue moon, though, a manilla envelope will find its way onto my desk. Some bright spark who thinks they’re above using a laptop decides to send their manuscript in the old fashioned way. Sometimes it’s just a precaution in case we somehow miss the half dozen emails they’ve already sent out to every listed staff member on the site. Hell, sometimes it’s written by typewriter.

You know typewriters require special paper to print? Special ink, too. They probably spend more writing the damn thing than they’ll ever see in royalties, but to each their own, I guess. I even got one handwritten, once. The idiot sent a follow-up a month later anxiously asking if he could have it back if we weren’t going to consider it because it was his only copy. Can you imagine? Mailing off the only copy of your handwritten manuscript to some backroom small press without any insurance.

By comparison, this manuscript was relatively normal. It had been typed, I think. The paper was…I guess it was sort of crumpled, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. The postal service isn’t always the most careful about this sort of thing, and it wasn’t really packaged properly. Just shoved loose in a box and shipped out.

It was pre-bound. Just a bundle of papers held together with a few strands of red string. A little unusual, but not exactly throwing up any red flags. Even when I started reading it, I didn’t know. How the hell could I have?

It was good, though. Maybe that should have been my first clue. The prose dragged on a bit, but hey. There are plenty of successful writers out there who probably could have benefited from a harsher editor. They made up for it, in my opinion. Even just skimming those first few pages, I was hooked. Didn’t even really realise it when I was due my lunch break. I was so focused on that damn book.

The visuals were the thing. Plenty of writers can pour out half decent prose, but something about this writer…they had a way of making it feel real, you know? All the little touches, the scenes they crafted from the ground up. It felt…it felt like I couldn’t stop reading. Even if I’d wanted to, and trust me, back then I didn’t.

I didn’t leave my office that day. Barely noticed it when the phone rang, ignored all my emails. I really, really thought we’d accidentally stumbled on a gold mind. Not just a passable debut novel, but an honest to god genuine talent.

The funny thing is, I can’t even really remember what it was that drew me in. Couldn’t tell you what genre it fell under. The plot itself was practically non-existent. A girl who dreamed of being a dancer and crept out of her house to practice under the moonlight in a clearing in the forest behind her house.

Then, one blissful night, illuminated by the full moon, the forest provided her with a partner. The partner.

Nothing too out there, right? Your basic fantasy-romance type stuff. Pretty tame compared to a lot of what we publish, but I was enthralled from the first description of their first dance. Barefoot and so light on her feet her toes barely skimmed the dew-slick grass. They loved each other, and in that moment, I think I understood that. Really knew what it was to love someone so much you’d offer them your still beating heart if it would mean holding onto them for just a second longer.

Except it wasn’t love. Not really. It was an obsession.

I couldn’t stop devouring page after page as their budding romance grew and spiralled, twisting into something unrecognisable. Those whispered words of I can’t live without you became their mantra as they clung to one another so tightly they left bruises on one another’s skin. Soft kisses turned sharp as they came to understand what it was to need to consume and be consumed. They needed one another in a way neither could truly provide. Not really.

In their despair, they begged the forest to offer them a solution, and it gave them one. A way to lie in the sweet summer meadow forever, and in their glee they didn’t think to ask what it would cost.

Not until they began to rot, anyway.

My memories around here get a little hazy, or maybe the words were just less clear. The writing seemed…hurried towards the end, but the couple didn’t seem to mind much when the insects began to burrow through their skin and make their homes inside. They had so much love to give, literally brimming with it. As sickening as it was, it sounded almost…fond. Like the writer truly wanted to give them the happy ending they deserved, but somehow couldn’t think of anything more befitting than allowing their decaying corpses to be infested with creepy crawlies.

It was sick. The concept was sick. Everything about it was sick, but even now I can’t truly convey how vividly they described it. The picture they painted was so clear. Even the affection the insects lavished upon them as they crawled and burrowed through their decaying flesh. It was…God, it used to make me sick just thinking about it, you know that?

Because it wasn’t enough that I had to read it. That I physically couldn’t tear my eyes away. I had to see it. The idea of it…It got its hooks in deep.

By the time I got to the end, I was at a loss for what to do with the manuscript. On the one hand it was probably one of the best written pieces we’d ever received, and there are plenty of twisted readers out there looking for something to churn their stomach.

Somehow it didn’t feel right to publish it, though. I’ve read body horror before, but this…It wasn’t right. I couldn’t…I couldn’t just inflict that on people. How do you make someone understand, truly understand, when they’re signing up to read something that won’t ever let them go? How do you make them understand that the words they’re paying you to read will imprint themselves against the backs of their eyelids? That they’ll grow and spread and fester.

I dream about that dancer in the moonlit meadow. The descriptions of her actual appearance were relatively scarce, but I can still see her face when I close my eyes. I see her intertwined with her dance partner, caked in a mossy fungus that failed to disguise the living hive crawling beneath their skin. I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins, anymore. Not even sure if I could tell them apart looking at them, what with their withered skin being so covered in filth and grime.

That damned book made it sound like something beautiful, but their beauty decayed with their childish notions of romance. They chose to become hollow husks of themselves to make room for the love they could no longer contain, but that’s…that’s not love. It can’t be…right?

So why can’t I stop thinking about the way their fingers intertwined before rigor mortis set in and cemented their bond forever?

I can’t concentrate on anything else anymore. At first it was just a niggling seed of doubt at the back of my mind, but it’s grown so much since then. That image burrowed so deep inside my mind turned its hungry mouth towards the parts of me which were most vulnerable, eating and eating and eating and eating until I could think of nothing else.

I don’t know why I never thought to burn it. Maybe I was worried it would make it worse. Maybe it felt too much like sacrilege. I never read it again after that first time, though I considered it often. It sat on my desk while my other assignments lay scattered around it, disregarded without a second thought. After all, there was no room left in my mind for anything else anymore. Every other passage I tried to read just seemed so…dry. So false. I used to get so invested in the lives of paper people, but now I know what true love is, how could the half-baked notions of romance ever compare?  I tried at first, but by the end I just…stared at it. Waiting.

Maybe if I’d tried to destroy it…Too late now, I suppose. I never let it see the printing presses, but I did let it go in the end. Some old man came in asking for it specifically. Something about it being a collectable.

I don’t know how an unpublished manuscript could be considered a collector’s item, and frankly I didn’t ask. I’m not sure if I even really cared about what he’d do with it by that point. Did it bother me that I might be condemning him to share my fate? It doesn’t now, I know that much.

It’s…I was hoping this might help me clear things up, but I just couldn’t see any of it straight. I can’t see anything, anymore. Not really. It may have started in my dreams, but once I let her in…They’re everywhere, now. I saw him in the faces of my colleagues before the press finally let me go… I don’t remember how long ago now. I think the power company cut the power at some point. It doesn’t matter now.

The funny thing is, I really thought they cared about me. They did, at first. I think. It all sort of blurs together, but I remember how they used to talk about me when they thought I couldn’t hear. The nervous looks they’d send me when I zoned out at my desks. Then they staged their first intervention, and I saw it. I saw her. It was the man I saw painted across the features of everyone I knew, in the arches of eyebrows and slants of cheekbones, but it was her I saw reflected in their eyes.

It was her I saw in the mirror, before they ran out of space inside my skull, and the maggots took my eyes…or maybe I imagined that part too.

I’m pretty sure it’s too late for me now, but when I heard about you guys I figured it was worth a shot. I’m full of it. Whatever that feverish contagion that claimed the couple was. That sickly, rotting thing they mistook for love. I can feel it now. I can understand it now and it’s so much. Already I’m on the brink of bursting with it, I think.

I just can’t wait to share.

[honestgrins]

Something Tart || Klaroline

On his TV show, Klaus Mikaelson rescues failing restaurants. In all his experience, he’s never encountered a hidden gem quite like Caroline Forbes.

.

Klaus had seen a lot of failing restaurants in his day. It was absurd to him that he'd built a career on revamping these places for a television show, especially when he missed running his own kitchen. But he'd found a niche and some small celebrity, and he did enjoy the opportunity to grind the egos of bad owners under his heel.

Damon Salvatore, however, was proving to be in a category all his own. 

"I shouldn't have to explain why it's necessary to order fresh produce when what you already have spoils," he bit out, pinching the bridge of his nose. The prat just stood there, his arms crossed in defiance as he tried to explain about the costs he'd been cutting. Stefan, the brother who actually had to cook the food, at least managed to look remorseful. "If these are the choices you're making, you deserve to go out of business."

When the brothers started to argue their case, Klaus stormed out of their office. He didn't care what they had to say; nothing excused sacrificing the quality of their product, especially at the expense of their customers' health. 

It was unfortunate, too, because Giuseppe's Italian Eatery had some of the best desserts ever seen on the show. The place was a local haunt with comfort food and a homey presentation. The patisserie, though, was technically perfect and beautifully plated. While he might have been concerned to have such a disconnect between the dinner and dessert menus, Klaus pored through the numbers his own staff had compiled in their pre-show research. If anything, their pastry chef was a draw in and of herself.

In Klaus's particular opinion, Caroline Forbes was far too good to be working for the Salvatores.

Too annoyed to put up with the brothers for another moment, he made his way to the kitchen. As he expected, it was mostly empty but for the woman leaning heavily on a rolling pin as she flattened out a disk of dough. "I thought everyone went home to clean up for dinner service."

Caroline glanced up before focusing once more on her task. "Everyone else doesn't have to worry about laminating puff pastry for the dessert special tonight," she explained. "If I don't get enough layers folded into it, the apple tarts won't flake right."

"Can't have that," he teased. When she bit back a smile, his own spread wide on his face. He sobered at the attention she paid to the evenness of her dough, however. "You're a more dedicated employee than Damon Salvatore deserves, that's for sure."

She opened her mouth to answer - in kind, he assumed - but she seemed to think better of it. Pressing her lips together, she finally met his gaze with a stony frown. "Look, your critiques were fair," she said, likely referring to the dressing down he gave both brothers for the quality of the dining experience they were trying to sell. "More than fair, even, since Damon is the absolute worst and refuses to take any of my suggestions for actual efficiency. But Stefan is a friend, and he's a good cook when he doesn't let Damon handle the grocery list."

Klaus shrugged, leaning back against the opposite counter as she stared him down. "Maybe so, but Stefan doesn't appear willing to part ways. How long do you think this place lasts if they won't take my advice?"

Sighing, Caroline took to folding her dough in careful layers before wrapping it back up. "This is one of two restaurants in the area," she said. "I think it'll last, it'll just be miserable for everyone if things don't change."

"You wouldn't have to stay," he pointed out. "I could connect you with chefs all over the country, several of whom would take your skills in a heartbeat. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make sure you get there."

Her eyes were wide and shining, like she couldn't believe he was real. "Why do you care?"

He crossed his arms and regarded her carefully. "You're good, and you deserve better than Giuseppe's. Where did you train? And don't feed me some Southern drawl, granny's kitchen sob story. You've been taught, and taught well."

"Grandma Forbes absolutely passed down a recipe or two," Caroline retorted. "I also went to school in New York for a bit."

That made him frown. "Most patisserie schools have a high placement rate for those who finish."

She let out a shaky breath, which only made him frown more. "I didn't finish," she answered simply. "I was needed at home, so here I am. Stefan was nice enough to let me wreak havoc on his menu, the one fight with Damon he won."

"A well-picked battle," Klaus nodded, gently sidestepping the personal details she alluded to. "Damon doesn't strike me as the type to be reasonable in any scenario."

"He gives me hell whenever I demand the good chocolate, but I always get it." With a wicked grin, Caroline turned to place her dough in the refrigerator. "I bug the crap out of him because he knows he can't fire me. Some people only come here for dessert, and that's all me. It drives him nuts, which is a fringe benefit, really."

Chuckling, Klaus couldn't resist a fond smile at her petty tone. "You could always start your own place, rid yourself of the Salvatores altogether."

But she hesitated again, all humor drained from her face. "No, it's too big an investment. I take some specialty orders on the side, Stefan lets me use the kitchen here during off hours, since I usually clean it better than his crew. This is fine for now."

"You won't leave because home needs you, but you won't establish yourself on your own terms? I'm confused, love." His first impression of her had come with blazing glares and biting remarks. She wasn't a woman who scared easily, even when faced with a seasoned professional and his biased camera crew. 

Her smile was a weak, rueful thing. "I don't know if you know this," she said, her voice dripping with irony, "but restaurants are an expensive business. Bakeries, too. A lot of them fail, some so badly that a TV show comes in and tries to save them from themselves."

"I've heard something to that effect," he noted drily.

"I don't make a lot," she admitted, "but I'm comfortable, and that's enough for me. For my mom."

Understanding washed over him like cold water, and all Klaus could offer was a sad nod. "Home needs you," he repeated, far more kindly than he did before. "You're still too talented for Giuseppe's."

Caroline laughed, looking far more comfortable than he felt at the realization he was going to have to leave her to this small town life. "It's this or the Grille, which is better suited to loaded brownies and ice cream sundaes. I do make pies for them, though."

"Of course you do." While he thought she could do so much more, he had no doubt Caroline Forbes exhausted every opportunity available to her in Mystic Falls. "If you change your mind," he said, privately hoping she would do so quickly, "feel free to give me a call."

She accepted the card he offered, but not without some skepticism. "Do you do this at all the restaurants you help? Pick the pretty girl and try to talk her into following you across the country?"

"You're very pretty," he agreed with a grin. "You're also an excellent pastry chef. I assure you, I usually leave my producer's card for the people I meet while filming. That's my private line for people I actually want to call. And," he plucked it from her hands to write on the back before returning it. "That's my personal cell, if you'd care to have it."

Slipping her tongue between her lips, Caroline shook her head. But he was relieved that her mouth pulled up into an easy smile. "Smooth. I see why they gave you a TV show." 

He smirked. "I'm here for the weekend, flying out on Monday. Perhaps I could tempt you for breakfast before I go?"

"You'll have to be smoother than that," she replied. He really did mean just breakfast, but he liked that her mind considered him for more. Still, he was relieved that she pocketed his card all the same. "Let's see how the weekend goes first."

Nodding, Klaus promised himself he'd do his best to make Giuseppe's a better place for her to thrive. All else aside, Caroline deserved at least that.

[fiction-in-my-blood]

MC and Estranged Father (Scandel In The Spotlight)

This isn’t really a HC or coupley thing, just an idea I had and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts! 

~~~~~~

It had been a dreary few days in the Revance house. Masami’s temper was far shorter than usual, ever since she got a letter in the mail that she wouldn’t even let Nagito see. Not even when Kyohei teasingly threatened her. She was too distracted by the contents and no one knew why. It was like her current mood had affected the beautiful spring weather. It had been raining cat and dogs for the past week!

The contents of the letter, from her father, were locked away in Masami’s desk draw. He had rarely been around in her childhood. He was a workaholic, who somehow had time for plenty other women than her mother. He sent her money on her birthday and hardly ever showed up to her parent-teacher conferences- his excuse was being on the other side of the world at a concert he was holding. They always seemed to occur in the most important times in her childhood.

She still got those montetary gifts on her birthday- it was the only one she got this year as no one else in the house actually knew it was her birthday and since her mother passed, she didn’t care much for it. But, this year was different. This time, it came with a note.

That letter expressed his regret for the way he treated her and her mother- the two had never married as Masami was an accident, but he was a man with pride and would support his own offspring no matter what. Financially anyway. Masami didn’t care much for an apology from the man she hardly knew anything about except for what the press told her. Her mother was a kind woman who never told her anything bad about him, so she grew up not believing anything she told her. This man didn’t even come to her mother’s funeral, why was he suddenly getting friendly now?

However, the thing that really angered her about that massage was his wish to meet her. He had somehow found out she was living with a group of male superstars, and she wasn’t sure how. However, knowing his connections in the industry, it was likely someone from Revance’s managerial company. Her father was his own type of superstar, however slightly niche to the younger generations.

The letter told her he would be visiting the house on a specific day, after he finished one of the last concerts he said he was ever going to do. He told her he was quiting performing his music to the masses and was going to concentrate on the personal life he had abandoned for too long. Masami thought it was too late for that, but she wasn’t going to make herself scarce- it would just cause trouble for the others for a random stranger to show up on their doorstep, asking for her.

So, on that faithful day a week after the gloominess on the usually ‘peaceful’ house settled, the rain had finally let up. Not metaphorically, physically. Masami was in an even worse mood than she had already been and the sky outside was covered in white clouds, but at least the plant life wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, be flooded today.

“Hey, um, Masami... Are you feeling okay?” Nagito sheepishly approached her as she sat at the dining table, where she had holed herself up lately. At the beginning of this week-long, slient, rampage, the dirty idol had been able to tease her without trembling in fear of her wrath. Now, he was too scared to even speak in her presence. 

She had been trying to distract herself with work until the door bell rang, but it wasn’t much use. This was like the worst type of writer’s block she had ever had. She could write just fine, just not the stuff she should be writing. The lyrics she wrote were hateful and annoyed when she should be writing about young love and growing old with your significant other. Takashi definitely wouldn’t be happy if he saw the scrawlings in her journal.

“Just peachy.” The sarcasm was thick in her venomous words, not looking up to see the rest of Revance grouped together behind Nagito, peering and waiting to see what would happen next. Lets just say he lost a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. 

“Th-That’s great!” Not knowing what else to say, Nagito retreated, only to get rapped up the side of his head. 

“That did nothing!” Kyohei glared in a hushed tone, not wanting Masami to know he had sent in one of his lieutenants to gather information. 

“But Kyoo~, I don’t know what else I can do! She didn’t even blush when she walked in on me in the shower room yesterday.” Nagito sulked. It wasn’t like Masami to get used to the sight of his body and he knew she was too deep in thought in the moment to even see him. She almost started stripping herself before he could escape. The loud and long sigh she let out didn’t go unnoticed, but he was much too scared to ask at the time.

Before the boys could go about hashing another plan to find out what had been bugging her so much, the door bell rang. 

“I’ll get it.” Kota grumbled, being the closest. However, just as he was getting up, he was pulled back down by an unbelievable force on his shoulder. 

“It’s not for you.” Masami glared down at him and even Iori showed a look of bewilderment at the harshness of her eyes. It was like they could see fire raging behind them.

Masami wasted no time in leisurely strolling to the door, although in her head it was the hesitance to open it that made her so slow. She really, really didn’t want to see her father or hear anything he had to say to her, not after her mother died, but what was the use of pushing him away? One thing she believed about her father that her mother had told her is that he persistent and ambitious. How else could you become one of the most famous and sort after composers in the world?

With a growling sigh, she forced herself to let her hand rest on the door handle before turning it, throwing it open just to get this awkward reunion over with.

Only, the victim of her contempt wasn’t her father, but none other than the group’s kind-hearted manger. “M-Mr Sasayama?” She finally showed an expression other than irritation, which was shock and shame. Sasayama had an astonished look of his own face to see the usually happy, yet sometimes defeated, girl so angry. 

“Masami, have the boys been difficult? Do you want me to intervene?” He was quick to offer his help, but that only reminded Masami why she had opened the door in the first place. She almost felt like tearing up, but she promised herself she wouldn’t. Her father didn’t deserve to hurt her like he had. 

“No. No, thank you, Mr Sasayama, I’m fine. Would you like to come in?” She forced herself to smile, just to get someone off her back for a bit so she could sort out her thoughts and emotions. The constant questioning and seemingly worried members had been grinding on her already worn nerves and she certainly didn’t need any sympathy from someone else she looked up to.

As Sasayama was walking through the door she held open, her expression falling just while his back was turned, another voice called out from the street. Both turned, both surprised by what they saw. It was a man, no surprise there because the sound of Masami’s name had been very low, with greyed and some white stranded hair. It was long enough to reach the bottom of his ears, the front curtains pushed back by circular, black-framed glasses resting on top of his head. He held a fabric hat screwed up in his hands, either a beenie or a flat cap niether could tell. His face, wrinkled and aged by cigarettes, was contort in a worried expression, part of his bottom lip pinched between whitened teeth. He wore a grey blazer with black elbow patches, a black turtle neck and grey suit pants that matched his jacket. His whole aura was gloomier than the overcast weather.

“M-Masami?” Through panting breathes, the man’s tone was asking, unsure if the woman that stood before him was really his own flesh and blood. He shouldn’t be so unsure, she was the spitting image of her gorgeous mother- except for the unimpressed and stressed expression on her youthful face. 

Masami didn’t let go of the door, nor did she make any move to voice an invite, so the manager that still stood beside her felt the need to speak up. “M-Mr Sakamoto! What are you doing here?” Sasayama couldn’t hold back his surprise to see such a world-renouned man standing at his band’s doorstep, the slightest shine on his forehead and the deepest crease between his brows. 

“Mr Sasayama, go inside, would you?” Masami tried to be polite, but since she had calmed herself down from meeting the manager instead of her estranged family member, she had been caught off-guard. Her mood was a hundred times worse than moment before- if that was even possible. 

“Miss Masami, I don’t th-.” 

“Is he the one you asked?” Masami cut the man off, something she would never usually do, but she was just so pissed off. It was bad enough to suspect someone at the agency would leak information like this, but their own manager? He could have caused a lot more trouble than this mess.

“N-No, an old friend of mine...” Her father led off, awkardly avoiding eye contact as he felt himself relax. It was a relief to know he hadn’t just gone up to a random woman and assumed it was his daughter. One hand reached up to his neck to pull at the now suffocating fabric around it. For once he wished he had a different taste in fashion.

“Get in then. Or are you just going to stand there and waste more time than you already have with me?” After a sigh, Masami spat those words out like they were covered in deadly poison. Sasayama didn’t know what to say, nor did the men standing at the end of the hallway, having listened in to see what all the fuss was about. The composer gulped before nodding and Masami let him in, slamming the door behind him to try an let out some frustration.

After taking his shoes off, Masami guided him into the garden, the Revance boys escaping from her sight before she found out how they were about to invade her privacy. They would have discussed their confusion about the man’s appearance, some aware of who he was and some not, but they were too eager to speak in case they missed something in the tense conversation that was sure to arise.

Sitting across from each other at the outside dining table, Masami’s leg crossed over the other with her arms overlapping each other and the celebrity sitting with his hands clasped together and head drooped like some sort of pray, the two definitely didn’t seem any sort of related. It was like Masami was reprimanding him with just her decerning gaze, which was fair. The man had been an awful dad to her and a more than terrible lover to her mother. The minimum he had done for her was offer child support while telling her mother he loved her, which was definitely false if he was able to sleep with whatever woman came up to him after a show or red carpet. 

“Are you going to start talking or do I need to gain clairevoyance?” Masami’s tone was dull and low, something the boys couldn’t hear but could definitely see her lips moving. Sakamoto shot up, his wrinkled hat crushed even more in his hands.

“Ye-Yes... Yes, sorry, I’m the one who asked to meet you.” A quiet and unsure tone was odd for this man, not that any of them knew as no one had actually met him, but the rich aura he gave off gave them a clue he would usually be confident in himself.

“More like you announced you would be coming without even asking if I wanted to meet you.” Masami glared and Sakamoto almost felt like laughing if he wasn’t so scared. Her mother always had a stern glare when she was mad at him and Masami mimicked her so well. Instead, he settled on trying to hide a dopey grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to see me but I need you to know... I... I’m quiting composing.” This was a lot for her father to say and anyone could see that in the slight quiver in his voice. His posture was now straight, his true height bearing an air of sanguinity and positivity if he wore his usual confident grin. 

“You said.” Masami couldn’t care less what this man did with his life, he didn’t when she was growing up. But she still didn’t know what he wanted her to know or why he was doing it. It did make her a little curious, but not enough to ask. Not enough to even allow him to think she cared. 

“Yes, I guess I did. Well, I know I didn’t say I’m moving back to Japan.” The attempt to lighten the mood drastically failed when Masami’s facial expression didn’t change in the slightest. Sakamoto lived in Australlia. Masami was told she had gone to his house a few times, but she didn’t remember. She only remembered his absence.

“Why would you do that? Isn’t your life in Sydney?” Masami blurted out without thinking. The question gave her father a little hope.

“I know you hate me for what I did to you and your mother. I know I wasn’t a father to you. I know I ran away from that responbility. From raising you. And... I’m done running.” Sakamoto finally met her gaze with something other than defeat. He was determind to reconstruct the bridges he had burnt with his last living relative. It hadn’t been made public, but he had a health scare not only a month ago and it gave him the existential crisis he needed to realise how wrong he had truly been. He regreted what he had done and wanted to meet the woman his truest love had raised. Was that so wrong?

“Are you... Are you fucking kidding me?” Masami finally raised her voice for the first time she has been living in this house, and maybe ever, and that made everyone but her jump. She was a monster, standing up in an attempt to ease her fury. She didn’t like getting mad, but there was no other option when it came to this man.

“You didn’t come to my high school graduation. You didn’t come to my 18th birthday party. You didn’t even call me, ever, when I was growing up! Even after mom’s funeral I never heard from you on the subject except for a condolence letter! And you think you can come here and say some cliche words, which I’m sure I’ve heard in a movie, and think everything will be a-okay?” Masami started listing off her father’s shortcomings, even going the extra mile to raise a finger for each one. She paced back and forth, trying so hard not to cry. She was so, so mad... 

And so, so happy. For once in her life she felt like her father loved her, or at least accepted her, even if they were just empty words. But, that made her feel guilty. The man that had ruined her mother’s life by abandoning her with a baby to raise on her own when she was just as young and as ambitious. She was a violinist, but she had to quit to take care of this girl that had fallen into her lap.

“I know I was an accident and you didn’t want children, but, god, even the worst parents stick around for their child. They don’t abandon them to a single mother with dreams of her own! She was too good to you, you know that right? She had nothing else but compliments for you! She made you out to be this hard working genius, even though you were in the tabloids every other week! And no amount of money is going to be able to pay back that pain.” Pulling a familiar envelope out of her back pocket, Masami slapped it on the table in front of her. It was far thicker than anyone else who had seen it remembered it being. It wasn’t even possible to seal it again.

“This is..?” Sakamoto led off as he picked up the envelope and peered inside, eyes wide at the millions of yen that were stacked there. Ever since Masami was her own person and made her own money, she never spent any of the money her father had sent her. She didn’t want to, she felt like it was blood-money, and she had waited for the day to shove it back in his face. Showing him she didn’t need him.

“It’s all the money you sent me since mom died. You can count it if you like. I don’t need it, I have my own job.” Masami scowled, crossing her arms in an attempt to reject anything further he would try to offer her. 

“How... How did you do that?” Sakamoto was at a lost for words, the bills in his hand as heavy as the weight of the world. All that time he thought he was helping her and this is what happens?

“I sold stories to a publishing firm and comissioned poetry to couples. It’s not hard. I guess I got that creativity from you? It’s the only useful thing, anyway.” Avoiding eye contact, the boys darted out of the door way, hoping she hadn’t seen them before she looked in their direction. Even Sasayama had joined them now, although guiltily.

“...Masami... You need to take this.” Sakamoto’s tone was finally strong, his voice heavy with demand. The daughter jumped, surprised to hear those specific words and looked back at him to make sure she had heard him right. He seemed... angry?

“I don’t need it. I’m sure you’ll find a use for it, going into retirement.” Masami’s voice faltered for a moment, but her resolve to hinder any further reason for him to get in contact amped her up. There was no sign of her budging in the sterness of her own tone.

“Noriko-”

“Keep her name out of your mouth.” Masami was quick to interrupt her father from belittling her mother by reguarding her so casually. She may be dead, but that only made it worse. She wouldn’t be hear to defend herself.

“...I got a letter from your mother before she died.” Sakamoto sighed, placing the money softly on the table and reaching into his own back pocket. Sliding along the table under his fingertips was an old-looking piece of paper, the edges curled with time and what might have been stains from a clear liquid. When Masami snatched it from him and brought it to her face, she could smell the distinct scent of vodka.

Masami wasted no time in unfolding the letter apparently sent by her mother and instantly started tearing up at the familiar but forgetten handwriting. Her mother’s penmanship was poor, to say the least, but that didn’t mean it was illegible. Still, Sakamoto announced a summary on the letter, just in case.

“She told me to support you whole-heartedly and critised me for the I’ve done so far.” Sakamoto let out a low, soft chuckle at the memory of the only woman he’s ever loved. She was a strong person, stronger than him, and he knew he let her down. It’s what made the usually positive chortle sound so depressed.

“She told me to make sure you got through college, so I set up the scholarship program at the place she said you wanted to go to. She told me to help you find your first car, so I sent the money and a brochure. She told me to help you get your first job, but I didn’t even know what you wanted to be. She told me to do so many things that I hadn’t been able to do because I was selfish, and I’m still failing her. I... I loved her and I wasn’t there for her...” The weight of all those years of guilt pushed down on Sakamoto’s shoulders. Usually, if she wasn’t so distracted by the letter from beyond the grave right in front of her, Masami would be screaming bloody-murder so even suggested he cared for her mother. Abandoning someone isn’t love. It’s cowardice and fear. You can’t throw away someone’s life for a one-night stand and call it love. That’s what she believed.

“She sent me letters about you every year. Telling me how much you had grown and how you were doing in school. I never replied because I didn’t know what to say...” Sakamoto took a deep breath to go off on another tangent, but no words came when he saw his daughter, alone for so many years, with tears gliding down her face and onto the paper in her hands. She sniffled when she noticed him staring and turned, using the sleeve of her jumper to dry her face quickly.

“She was too good to you...” Her voice came out hoarse, both from her crying and yelling, and Sakamoto let out a relieved sigh to know she was too emotional to scream again. 

“You said.” Was words that shouldn’t have been said, really, at such an emotional point in their relationship and how traumatic this was for Masami, but she couldn’t help but let out a low, breathy chuckle that no one heard or saw with her back still turned. He was as cocky as her mother had told her.

“... Masami?” Sakamoto called out again, his tone high and questioning once again, asking if it would be alright for him to speak again. Masami turned to see him reaching out for her, but the distance was too great for either of them to meet each other and he was still sitting down. She didn’t make a move towards him, but by holding his eye contact the composer knew he was permitted to continue. 

“I know you hate me. You should. Really, you should never forgive me...” Sakamoto led off as he thought of things to say.

“This is meant to help your case?” Masami chuckled, turning fully towards him but not growing any closer. The boys remerged now that no one was looking in their direction.

“I ruined your mother’s life, and she gave me the greatest gift I could have asked for. She told me to keep composing and working to be the best I could be while she raised a daughter everyone could be proud of and happy to be around. She didn’t want to give up on her dream, but I, admittedly, gave her no choice. You’re right, I didn’t want children...." Even though he was a man with extraordinary talents, Sakamoto didn’t seem much to be one with words. He stumbled and shared too much, but Masami appreciated that about him. She had that same issue when she was writing her songs. She got too excited, wrote too much, and had to cut out a lot. It took practice and time to be able to just say what needs to be said without rambling. 

Maybe...

Maybe that’s what their relationship needed?

“But I want to know you, Masami. We’re all we’ve got left and you’re all I have left of her. I’ll give up anything to prove to you I want to be your father.” Sakamoto met her discerning gaze with that same determinded glare he had given her moments ago. Now it was her turn to say the wrong thing before turning it around.

“You’ll never be my father.” The words drifted out of her mouth as she clenched her fists at her side, slightly crinkling the old, hardened letter in one hand. Sakamoto’s heart broke right there and then.

“My mother was my father. And my aunt. My sister. She was my best friend. She raised me as if we had a huge family and I never felt alone... But...” Masami stopped herself before she could go off on her own tangent, telling herself not to beat around the bush.

“... I guess you can work on becoming my dad?” Masami grew shy, clutching her hands in front of her as she glared at the ground. She had always wanted to know what he was really like. Who wouldn’t? It’s your father. Even if she hated him, if there was a chance, that little girl who didn’t have anyone to meet her first boyfriend and warn him about getting overly-friendly wanted to know him. The girl who didn’t have anyone to protect her at fairs when her mother as busy with work. The girl who wanted to play wrestle with her father but her mother was too tired to act like that. They wanted to have him in her life. 

Sakamoto shot up the second he heard those words. Sure, he wasn’t a much for true affection, but one time couldn’t hurt, right? He inched closer to her, timidly lifting his hands up to her shoulders and closed them around her. He was stiff and awkward, not knowing how to hold his daughter.

Which made her giggle. She laughed and laughed at how formal her own father seemed and couldn’t keep it in. Her whole life was an extraodinary circumstance, so when everything got weirder, like now, when she was reuniting with the man she hated for so long, she couldn’t help but find it funny.

“You think she’s finally cracked?” Iori mumbled, cringing as he watched the babbling idiot trying to cover her tittering with her hand as the two leaned away from her. 

“It really was a roller coaster, huh?” Nagito laughed sheepishly, earning another rap around the head for being so loud. 

“I’m going to sleep.” Kota grumbled, acting tired and bored. Really, he wanted to get away before Masami surely noticed them in this sensitive time. 

“Her dad’s Hanzo Sakamoto?” Takashi could help but mumble to himself as he glared at the ground. The famous composer was a sort of inspiration for him. 

“Hopefully now she won’t bite our heads off the second we speak in front of her.” Kyohei sighed, getting up with the others but leaving a quick glance at the newly formed family in their garden. The skies cleared for weeks after that day.

[cloudyfm]

* TASK 002: lilia jeong ♡

pov: your name is lilia jeong and you snitched on your brother when you were 16 for a drunken mistake that happened 2 years ago which got him kicked out of the house. you feel nonstop guilt<3

imma be honest, the overall relationship / their family dynamic is terrible and the only person in her family she is close to anymore is her mom. even then, it’s a struggling relationship that is out of more loyalty than actual love. dad could basically be dead to her she has no loyalties to him even if she fakes it. the only person who she has unconditional love for at this point is avery and even that is beyond messed up as you all know. but yeah<3 bennie’s task has other family info too ok we tried our best i hate their parents so mf bad

iris jeong (mother) 

kind of the … head of the family in a sense. she was always the one making decisions, in charge of the business, and the drug / cartel business actually came from her side of the family. kind of put their dad in a loveless marriage because it was more something that was arranged to keep a plausible cover for their family. while growing up their mom kind of gave avery more of the attention because he was the one which was supposed to take over the family business … yah you know the rest. anyways. lilia always had a suspicion that their mom never cared for her or didn’t appreciate her as a daughter and when she started babying avery … well :cursed: that kind of just grew and planted seeds within her that eventually led to her snitching on him. realizing she did this to prove something to their mom and i don’t like that ! her relationship with her mom is simply complicated<3333 and by complicated i mean just terrible . ever since avery was kicked out of the family, yes it was lilia’s fault myob, their mom basically had to condition her in 2 years to take over … what she literally did to avery for 18 years she had to do in 2. so when i say miss girl gave lilia everything she got and fucked her up without any reprieve ! well she did ! she has this weird loyalty to their mom because she was basically told to for years, but then at the same time hates her for the shit she made her do since she was 16. like has this inherent need to ruin their mom but knows that she wouldn’t be able to without some kind of severe push. like she has had dreams about what she could do with her life if their mom just wasn’t involved. yes she has mommy issues i don’t want to talk about it. also shes a cap sun gemini moon that is frankly enough besties. ( song seonmi fc )

tobias jeong (father)

i hate complacent men so bad<3 their dad was the nice guy … science teacher type who literally kind of wanted to give them everything their mom couldn’t. he tried but he was basically a doormat to their mom’s tyrannical rampage of life. bill nye wannabe if you will. anyways ! he was the one who would also give them something to look forward to - literally has a jeep that they would go on random drives in throughout the year just to talk about how terrible their mom was and he would agree. but he did nothing about it do you see why i hate complacent men now<3 yeah. lilia’s relationship was more distant with their dad mostly because i think she just kept having an obsession with proving herself to their mom that she never tried to do the same with him. but she loved art … like specifically weird niche art but she still liked it KLNSDFLKNSDFL you know those weird museums that have exhibits that made no sense yeah he would take her to those. but then when the entire avery thing happened, their relationship turned for the worst. context wise, after avery left lilia got into a huge argument with both her mom and dad because she never expected it to end with him being kicked out - well too late for that now ! the entire argument was her asking for her mom to rethink what she did, but when her dad basically kept telling lilia to let it go and for it to happen, she began to resent him for everything he was. in her head he’s a spineless man who can’t stand up for a single thing he believes in. she was 16 and stupid when she did what she did, but their dad really has no excuse so their dad is literally dead to her<3 she will be nice to him and patient but that’s as far as her loyalty goes to him. aqua sun cancer moon once again explains it all. ( kim juhoon fc )

avery jeong (brother)

they were … so close. ridiculously close growing up. they were basically that cliche of we really don’t have anyone but we have each other. like when they were kids he would always be the one to clean up her messes because she always had a tendency to take on more than she could handle. if you read bennies task then you know they would go to orchards together because they are . rich like that . anyways pt 2 of that is how they would go home, cut up the fruit, and then just … have a whole food fight with each other where they both just get sticky and ruin the kitchen because of it. he ends up taking the blame for it and has to clean but she’s just sitting on the counter watching him and purposely making it difficult so he has to give her more fruit :\ that’s how close they were - like really would do anything for each other. avery was kind of her person growing up, but then we bring it back to their mom who just made her feels SO inadequate to him. it wasn’t even purposeful from his end, but she started to almost like … resent him slightly ?? for being given more control which again wasn’t his fault. she’s 2 years younger than him but she had this image of herself in her head that was a lot grander than she actually was. but we all know what she did<33 after that she like … her parents basically lied about some of the stuff avery did growing up and by her parents i mean her mom so that already complicates it.

after avery left she kept trying to fight for him to come back but it was met with a mom who refuses to be told she was wrong and a complacent doormat dad, so they literally lied to her for her to let him go. she is so … guilt ridden about what she did to him. like even before she found out about the lies her parents told her, etc. she carried so much guilt about it since she was 16 that she basically repressed. before yale and when she still lived with her parents, she would go through random boxes in the basement and find the guitar he used to play songs for her with - it had their initials in it from when they were kids inscribed on the back. she even tried to play a song but her nails kept getting caught on the strings. overtime she attempts to call him and is always met with with his voicemail, but she finally leaves one that just says “hi …” before hanging up. that’s the last thing she said to him before they saw each other at yale again. and she’s tried to call him again more than once, but eventually gave up. maybe her doing that was self serving because of her guilt but more than anything she just missed him.

as of now it’s just a really awkward dynamic like .. she doesn’t know how to approach him and apologize but a lot of what she does is to protect him. she started sending him money when she went to yale, literally blackmails a news source to not bring up her family which is mostly done for his and her sake, etc. at this point she just doesn’t know how to even approach to topic, so if she does anything for him it’s always nameless or anonymous - she just literally has no idea what she’s doing at this point, but even now so much of what she does is for him.

[janexeu]

     though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, JANE MÁRQUEZ is actually a descendent of HYPNOS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-SIX year old DEMIGOD ELEMENTARY EDUCATION MAJOR from NEW ORLEANS, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite SACRIFICIAL & STUBBORN.

( she’s b-b-b-back on her bs : katya ! tis uhm ,,,, a lil bit of a chonk of an intro but ill try 2 b cute w it. any time u wanna yeet jus peep the gif again & forgive me bc Look At Her ! )

POWERS ( more info here )

hypnokinesis  — p much made her a glorified babysitter w lynch-esque wacko dreams. it got stronger naturally as she got older, but jus w herself n eventually the ppl shes real close w. its also gotten a lot better since comin to eonia 

seeing gods in dreams  — she doesnt hang out w em every fridays at tgifs but like ,,, if she had Pertinent Questions she cud smhw make it happen. found out abt her being a demigod at age 10 when she met hypnos

memory retrieval — shes got great memry of her own but bc she knows it can help w grief n all that, shes been learnin in eonia how to do it 4 others if they mayb wanted it

BIO POINTS 

her single ma died during childbirth so jane's been in the foster care system since 5ever. attempts at reunification nvr worked out but thankfully she got real lucky w her group home and foster families. twas stable enough to not emotionally scar her even further but the instability of it all was fosho a big ol’ lot and has influenced her rigidness in sum aspects of her life

she lived p much as a mortal even tho her powers r a lil freaky. never went to camp but it worked out bc all her abilities r internal and cannot be Perceived by others. she had a talk w hypnos abt what 2 do n he mentioned camps but also gave sum monster avoidance tips ( like rarely use ur powers, maybe learn self defense, yada yada ) n she jus ,,, did that so she cud continue livin real normal w the mortals. logistics of camp stressed her out esp bc shes livin w non-family n stuff yk it was All Too Much, miss her w the added demigod stress tyvm

got married at 23 to her childhood sweetums luis, but he ,,, died abt a yr later fr a car accident. coma for 2 weeks n jane p much slept the entire time in his hospital room, visitin his dreams n talkin to him. twas a life support sitch so they eventually decided to pull da plug whch was real sad but like she's processed it 2 da best of her abilities. her powers helped a lot in the coping too n she visits memories of him in her dreams smtms when it gets real sad then shes ok again bc life goes on n life is pretty uwu

bc of her bg round kids of all kinds, shes always been passionate abt em. always takin babysittin/tutor gigs and went to community college so she cud teach n then worked as an elem teacher. only started considerin goin 2 eonia 4 postgrad when she had a student who showed signs n strugglez of bein a demigod. she eventually got to talk to their godly parent 2 confirm n she was shocked pikachu meme, real concerned for all those youngins who hav no clue what to do ! or how to cope ! bc they cant facetime w the olympians lyk she can ! so cue her discussin eonia w luis a lot then a year after the accident, broke out the pro-con list again. took abt *checks watch* another yr til she finally decided to zoom 2 athens but then whoosh she did !

PERSONALITY

yearning ? idk her — shes can be a bit of a take it as is typa chick. can be a lil literal jsksj not dumb but like ,,, def doesnt read into things enuff to pine n long n year yk. some things might def fly over her head. she says Yes To Serotonin in this house. she dk the the mitskis n the sikens n the carsons ; its all mary oliver up in this joint. we just tryna luv life n be grateful folkz

le freak, say chic ! — control freak, that is. growin up in an unstable envi meant shed cling 2 stability n independence, wrvr she cud get it. so when it comes 2 the way she does things, she can be real a heel digger. also bc she has 2 deal w kids yk so it can b A Lot n shes v stern lyk dat. ofc she wont infantilize the eonians .,,,. or will she ? big sis vibes outta control. she means well tho always always means well. itll also b v hard to get her 2 giv up on sum1 bc life ? she luvs it n knows u can too

changes by david bowie — is decidedly skipped on the playlist. she doesnt like change !!! i mean she knows its inevitable but still not entire unavoidable. ever since she got out of the system, shes had a partner n her own way of doing things n its been workin out so why change it yk ? she says time may change me but jokes on u i can sorta trace time 

rip but im different — this goes out to all em whores in this house. she respectz ur hustle but like ,,,, not her thang. girl doesnt even get drunk when she drinks bc she doesnt rlly drink sksjsk doesnt like the taste of it, big baby ! but like she's Lived, its more like. ok tried it, not for me. thanks tho. also for all the meanies in the house, y’all perplex her. shes empathetic n wont show the judgement but smtms shes lowkey lyk .,., ur how old n u had all this goin 4 u n ur still so rotten ? how u actin like a 7yo w a trantrum ? scratch head, make it make sense

at least u tried — dad jokes, bad puns, tries to be big jokester but isn't funny. she's pretty tho so she gets away with it. idk wht else 2 say ur honor. shes the type thatll embarrass u w affection

well that was Awkward — probably sum1 abt her if  they see her actin a Fool bc shes in a foreign sitch or topic. when shes a fish outta water then she can be so ! easily ! flustered ! which is p much her in eonia. shes not new new but theres way 2 much godly shennanigans for her to wrap her head ‘round n sis has never gone to camp so its ice bucket challenge level shock from time to time still w da magics n lore

til death do us part — yknow when death cab for cutie said i knew that u wer a truth i wud rather lose than 2 hav nvr lain beside at all ? how abt when they wrecked me by rudely sayin love is watching sum1 die ? yes ? no ? nywy thats jane 4 ya. if she loves then shes in and if shes in then she is all in, luke danes stylez

was that a vivid enough picture or did i just word vom the same things agen n agen sjksjs jus know shes cute n sweet if a lil frustrating n annoying bc shes stubbornpants mcgee. may or may not have a slight compulsion to help fix other ppl ..,,.. someone set her str8 n tell her fix u by coldplay isnt it !!!  

OTHER INFO 

5′9″ born 4 october 1994, virgo sun n moon

not a freshie ! idk how long her program is but like ,,, lets ignore that 4 now ok jus kno that she been here a while

yogi & boxing enthusiast back at home. hc her mans got real into the martial arts w her when hypnos told her she gotta learn how 2 defend so that was one of their things : bonding by workouts so jane cud protecc herself if need be

her maiden name’s jane fulton. got her mommas surname but the name jane ? thats some jane doe bs some rando picked out for her which she hated at first but then seeing tarzan made her go hmmm, ok bet !

lgbtq+ alliance president ! identifies as pan

she met her late hubbie when they were abt 7ish, real friends 2 lovers cuteness. jane was there for him throughout his entire coming out & transition ergo her passion for the community esp queer kids bc she was That Cis Ally for her mans. wears her ring as a real lowkey necklace now

shes also real passionate abt sleep. will ask u how did u sleep last night p much every day u see her bc ppl spend like half their lives asleep catherine ofc shes gonna ask

her fave thing abt eonia ?  the whole siblings bit. shes had 2 make do w what she got n build a family from scratch so this ? she luvs it a lot let her give u kithes hypnos babies

shes p well versed in the greek thingies but only thru the knowledge mortals gets + dream info. after her realizin who she is, all things ancient greek jus sorta became her niche interest ykwim ? shes not like Super Learned abt it more like ,,, ok i gotta at least make Sum sense outta all this, gotta learn what i can. imagin how embarrassin it wud b 2 see a god in ur dream n then go : sorry to this man. nope. not jane, not her, nuh-uh 

luv languages : words, acts of service, physical touch !

useless hcs but she loves disney sfm ok. smtms dresses up as princess tiana for bday parties n shit bc shell do nythin 2 put a smile on the kids n babs faces

ya like jazz ? bc jane surely does ! adores motown & 60s music. nina simone owns her. no one drag peggy lee from 101 dalmatians ! not an important hc but i jus wanted to quote my bubble butt winged bee lover barry

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

children ! infants ! babies !

demigods that make her scratch head damn u live like this ? but also wud knife emoji to protect n care for. shes not the oldest on campus but shes been livin independently p much her entire life so she finks shes got a tight grasp on the myth that is Adulting  

srsly tho the Big Sis vibes is off the charts w this one. shell perserve u dumdums

baddie influencies !

convince her 2 get drunk at a party ! bc she never does. convince her to maybe try drugs ! or go hook up ! do smths impulsive idk jus smth new !

gl tho bc shes not rlly ,,, easily influenced But she can b reasoned w ! in general i fink its just gonna be a fun dynamic if y/m knows how to coax sum wildness outta her or w/e bc thotty yummy theyre hotty yolo rzning jus wont do w this gal. will most likely get argumentative like a big ol momma hen but if u win then ur winning big

Sleep Now or forever hold ur peace !

idk sum1 she helps w their messy sleep ? shes def not super public w it, surely knows her other siblings r Better at it but if  y’all are close, she probs enjoys doin it 4 ya. she runs her hair thru fingers a lot when she does it. like a lot a lot unless u tell her to get lost

lover boi, lover gorl, lover enby !

she can be a lil traditional when it comes to how she views rels. she wants all that meetcute courting bs ! no gender roles tho n u best be sure shes not constantly comparin w her late hubbie ,,, but she jus wants smth magical n 2 be wooed again yk ?

so yea ,,, crushers mayhaps ? sum1 who is tryin 2 woo her ? sum1 she had a meetcute w and now janes got lowkey heart eyes for em ? idk lotsa possiblities but pls keep in mind she is not good at the flirtings so hav mercy on her 

eonia tour guide !

or jus friends who like ,,, constnatly fill her in w all the godly stuff n whatnot. years of not goin 2 camps mean u miss out on a lot ! explore ruins w her n get her info her mortal educ didnt make her privy 2 yk 

head real empty atm i will think of sum n let y’all know when i do, but give us all the conekshunz. friends, enemies, the usual bit, lgbtq alliance peeps, lmk whats up whats done whats cookin we want it all

( shes p much a new muse n da result of me tryna bring in an emotionally healthy kid to this sad sad university. janes in a v good well-adjusted place rn n is my therapy muse bc that other bitch m** is a messy handful. but wbk life aint linear so mayhaps shit’ll hit da fan or one of y/m will ruin her lmfao press f pls ! but also color me eyes emoji bc we love to see it )