#they’re so orange cat/black cat coded

[cashweasel]

Okay, I need to know more about Gideon and Valen. I (now) know they're OCs, but from what fandom? What are they like? How did they meet? (Of course, pace yourself if this volley of questions is too much, lmao)

HIIII omg thank you so much for your ask hehe I totally don’t wait for people to ask about them or anything djdjskskjdjd 💗💗💗💗💗💗

They’re my ocs yes! Not from any fandom just my brain lol they exist in a fantasy verse (and also a modern au that I’m very obsessed with)

Their moms are very close besties!! and when they had kids they also became besties fjdkdkdjd (so basically they’ve been besties since birth yes, besties since the womb even)

Valen is royalty and lowkey the black sheep of his family he’s loud, chaotic, charming and unhinged, Gideon is the same but emo kdjsjdjdksk (and shy sometimes) and later becomes the general of his armies

They basically go through their entire lives together and they’re very dependable on each other which is a huge part of their story. Valen has a magical disability that can be very dangerous to him and others and gideon is a victim of DV so they take turns taking care of each other and for a long time they were each other’s only friend

They grew really close which created feelings, they had their first kiss -which valen rejects and runs away from 💀- when they were teens for which gideon apologizes and responds to by building impenetrable emotional walls that lasts a lifetime all while valen is trying to gaslight him into believing Nothing happened fhdjskdj.

Several years of pining and clawing their way out of the depths of repression hell they Finally kiss for real and their happiness and planning for their future is definitely not cut short by a devastating incident or anything 👍

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 1

“Vices to fill a Void”

A/N: so I decided this is gonna be a two-parter because if theres one thing I’m good at, it’s edging my dear readers ;)

~word count: 3.4k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel Miller has a menu concocted just for his customers. Pills? He’s got ‘em. Guns? Ammo? Name your price. Booze to warm the broken souls and hearts of the QZ? give him a holler. Everything comes with a price, of course. Joels got somethin’ special on his menu. Somethin’ that he doesn’t advertise freely. Y’gotta want it. Y’gotta have a desire that matches his own, only then will he offer what you seek.

Warnings: dark themes, two feral cats energy, mentions of deceased bodies, Joel is an asshole that knows how to get exactly what he wants. Dark! Joel, post!outbreak, Joel and Tess run the black market in the QZ, age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her late 20’s, mentions of drugs, smoking, alcohol, graphic depictions of violence, reader is a spitfire with a no-shit taking attitude, enemies to lovers type beat, Joel likes to play mind games, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, +18 minors dni!

The first time you meet the infamous Joel Miller is in his and Tess’s apartment in one of the few available Boston QZ apartments. Rumor on the street is that Joel and Tess are an item. When in all actuality, they’re business partners that occasionally fuck. His options, however, are not just limited to Tess. He likes to keep that part of his business on the low. He’s got a reputation, sure. But he doesn’t boast it proudly like a peacock. He knows his expertise, and he knows it well. His purpose in the structure of the QZ was smuggling. He’d bring pills, booze, ammo, guns, and anything else that was desirable. He’d trade for ration cards; a hefty amount of them. Sometimes, he’d allow his customers to trade their bodies, but he was quite picky, and it ain’t had anything to do with women’s appearances. In that department, he indulged in all body types. What he was most intrigued about was their minds. Their ability to survive, and most importantly, what they desired most in this shit-hole world.

He liked it when they were verbal. Silence was not a name in his game. He liked it when they showed up at his doorstep knowing exactly what it was that they wanted from him. He could play all the cards, and he played them well. He could be empathetic if they asked for it. He could pretend to love them just for the night. He could yank their hair, dig his nails into their flesh and call them a dirty, useless whore, but only if it was requested. See, he wasn’t all that brutal of a man, but if you weren’t careful and direct, he might send you home with more than just an ache between your thighs. He knew how to fuck, and he enjoyed it almost as much as he enjoyed beating a man senseless, almost.

You, however, held no interest to know what laid beneath his weathered jeans. You showed up wanting one thing, and one thing only. A vice to fill the hole in the void of your heart. You knew that Joel Miller’s menu was just what the doctor ordered.

Tess and Joel were seated at the kitchen table going through their supplies for the day. They had their usual customers, but Joel was always intrigued to see new faces walk through his door.

A cigarette dangled between his lips as he flipped through a stack of ration cards. The scent of tobacco wafted through the cracks in the door frame as your knuckles rapped firmly along the chipped paint. You knocked once, then twice five seconds later. It was customary like a code. Not that Joel or Tess had any concerns with FEDRA; they were a part of his regular cycle of customers too.

“Come in.” His voice was thick, deep, and dripping with authority.

The tip of the cigarette glowed bright orange as he inhaled the toxic fumes. The nicotine that coursed through his system calmed his nerves. Everyone had their own skeletons in their closets after all.

He paused his counting momentarily as he listened to the door handle squeak before it was pushed open.

“Sit.” He rasped with his freehand gesturing to the open seat in front of the table. “State your business.”

You watched the way the smoke coiled around his head like an ashy halo through the stagnant air. His brow cocked in your direction as his eyes zoned in on the stack of ration cards that you pulled from your jacket pocket.

“I was told that your menu is designed to cater to one's vices. I’m needin’ a bottle of booze, and a pack of smokes if you got any.” You placed the ration cards along the table before leaning back against the chairs frame.

“We ain’t got a whole pack, unfortunately. Five cards gets you five sticks, and three gets ya a bottle of hooch.” He declared in his warm Texas twang.

He was handsome, you’d give him that satisfaction only.

“I’ve got ten cards total. How about you throw’n two more smokes to make it even?” You countered smoothly as you crossed your arms against your chest.

“A negotiator, huh? Well, I'll tell ya what, girlie. Y’got yourself a deal. Y’new around here? Ain’t seen ya before.” He knew pretty much every face in the QZ. But yours remained a mystery. He wasn’t all too big of a fan of mysteries.

“Don’t think that is any of your concern, Joel.” You ignored his question as you passed off the cards.

“True.” He mused with a grin tugging across his lips. ‘S’alright. I’ll jus’ end up findin’ out about you in my own way.” He shrugged with the utmost casualness that sent your blood boiling under the surface. “Besides, my customers always end up comin’ back for more.” He grabbed a bottle of hooch and seven freshly rolled cigarettes concealed in tinfoil.

“There ain’t much for you to find out. Wouldn’t go wastin’ your time.” You grabbed the bottle swiftly before tucking it into the inner lining of your jacket. Before he could send you on your way, however, you unrolled the tinfoil to inspect the handiwork. Once you were satisfied with the merch, you plucked one of the cigarettes and placed it between your lips. “You got a light I can borrow?”

His nose twitched and his eyes squinted tightly before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He beckoned you silently to lean in as he ignited the flame.

“Y’know, these are a nasty habit to break.” He leaned back into his chair with his own cigarette dying between his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ like a good ole’ fashioned nicotine addiction.”

You scoffed under your breath as you took a deep inhale of the cancerous smoke that filled your lungs. “Says the man puffin’ away on one right in front of my face.”

He didn’t even look half fazed by your remark as he blew the smoke drifting from his lips off to the side.

You stared at one another a second longer before you stood up from your chair and snatched the cigarettes from the table.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Joel Miller. See ya around.”

Before he could respond, you were already slipping back out his apartment door and into the hallway.

“Man, she’s got a pair of balls on her, huh?” Tess mused from her seat alongside him.

“Yeah,” He smirked. “She sure does.”

The next time you saw Joel Miller was a few weeks later. You were assigned with assisting in dumping deceased infected into the deep pits where their flesh would be burned and melted away and all that would be remaining was their brittle bones. You had done this job enough times to get used to the putrid stench of rotting flesh. Others, however, couldn’t stand the smell. Some would pass out, others would empty what little was in their stomachs.

A denim-clad shoulder brushed against you as you lifted another body from the truck bed.

“Fancy seein’ you here, Angel.” Joel’s voice was muffled through the bandana he wore across his face, but you knew it was him just from that Texas twang of his.

Your eyes rolled back as walked past him and dropped the body into the flames that engulfed it.

“C’mon now.” He mused. “I know y’heard me.” He pressed.

“Fuck off, Joel.” You muttered under your breath as you bumped his shoulder harshly.

“Y’break that nasty habit yet?” He asked with a twinge of curiosity.

“Nope. Don’t plan on it either.”

Much to your relief, he walked away without speaking another word. It was short-lived however as he was standing right behind you in line to receive your ration cards for the day. The air was hot and almost unbearable as you wiped the sweat of your brow along your sleeve. When the cards were placed into your outstretched palm you shoved them deep into your pocket. The pay wasn’t worth the work that you put in.

Before you could disappear around the corner of the alley to head home, a hand grasped your shoulder rather firmly and before you could reach for your concealed weapon, your back was met with something hard that nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

Joel Miller.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doin’, Joel?!” You hissed under your breath as he flipped you around to face him.

“Got a proposition for ya, girlie. Trust me, you’ll want in.” His voice dipped down an octave as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of pills. Painkillers you suspected. The kind of shit that people could easily find themselves getting addicted to.

“And what makes you fuckin’ think that I would wanna do anythin’ for you?” What the fuck was this guys problem? The nerve he had.

“Cus’ I know there’s somethin’ that you want. Somethin’ that you need. Besides, you ain’t gonna make it long here if you don’t start usin’ people. S’the only way to survive in this world now. So, here’s what you’re gonna do. Tess and I wanna branch out further and in order to do that, we gotta get the rest of FEDRA off our backs.”

“You ain’t know shit about me, Joel. I’m doin’ just fine on my own.” You ripped your arm from his grasp, but he was quicker than you expected.

“I ain’t askin’ you, Angel. I’m tellin.’ Now, you’re gonna take these pills, and you’re gonna go on over to those guys o’there, and you’re gonna trade them. Y’get half the ration cards from the deal. Seem fair?” His tall stature loomed over you like a shadow being casted across the sun. Everything about this man was massive. His hands. His bulging arms. His shoulders. He was built like a fucking fridge, and he clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Is this what you do to all of your customers? Corner them into alleys and force them to do your dirty work for you?” You scoffed as you ripped the baggy from his hand. “And I get all the cards. I ain’t gonna let you just go and boss me around for half.”

“Jus’ the pretty ones that have a mouth to ‘em.” He mused with a wicked grin. “Fine. Y’get all the cards, but only if they agree to trade. Go on now, Angel. Time's a tickin away.” He nudged you forward with the palm of his calloused hand resting along your lower back.

“Asshole.” You hissed under your breath as you stashed the pills into your pocket before departing from the alley. If there was one thing you were good at, it was getting men to give you exactly what you wanted. You could flutter your lashes, giggle, flirt a little and their little egos would be crushed to dust beneath your fingertips.

“Hey boys, got a minute?” You spoke in a honeyed voice as the three officers diverted their attention towards you.

Joel watched from the shadows of the alley as you worked your charm like a fiddle. He was impressed with your natural skills. You certainly were no pushover. He did wonder if this was all a facade that you wore confidently. He thought briefly about what it would be like to have you beneath his sheets. What would you request from him? Would you ask him to be sweet and gentle? To fuck you like a man oughta? Or, would you be willing to share your deepest, darkest, filthy desires with him? He hoped for the latter.

When the deal was done, you made your way back across the street. Maybe Joel Miller was right. Maybe you should start using people for what they have. Who gave a fuck about morale anyway?

“How’d it go?” he inquired with his broad arms crossed against his chest as he leaned back against the brick wall.

“They wouldn’t take the bait unfortunately.” You let out a faux sigh. “Guess the deal is off.”

“What a shame, Angel. I surely thought you had it in ya. Guess I was wrong. Oh well. Good luck to ya.” He pushed himself off the wall only to find himself being pushed right up against it. Your palm lay flat against his chest as your freehand reached into your pocket and pulled out a single ration card.

His brow raised curiously as you went to slip the card into his back pocket. His eyes widened when he felt the warmth of your fingers searing through his jeans. At this close proximity, he got a proper whiff of your natural scent, and his cock pathetically twitched in the tight confines of the denim.

“Here’s your half of the deal. Decided to be generous.” You whispered through the thick growing tension.

His hand reached up to grab your wrist but before he could make contact with your skin, you were already stepping away from his reach. Your fingers rose in a mock salute before you turned on your heel and walked away.

Fuck. She’s perfect.

The next time Joel Miller saw you it's past curfew. Hours to be exact. The Boston QZ streets are quiet sans the labored breathing and deep grunts coming from a group of low-life scumbags.

“I already told you, I don’t have shit on me!” You emptied out your pockets to show these fuckers that you weren’t messing around. Would raw honesty really keep these men from tearing you apart?

“Bullshit. Y’got stuff back at your place, right? C’mon now darlin’, don’t lie to us. We’ve seen you hangin’ around Miller. Y’workin’ with him?” The man that had you pinned against the brick wall pressed further.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Are y’all really that boneheaded to think that i’m gonna be carryin’ merch on me out in the open like this?!” You yelled out of frustration as you tried to pin your wrists free to reach your concealed knife.

“How about you shut the fuck up and tell us where Joel’s apartment is, and we won’t have to kill you. How’s that sound?” The man twisted your wrists tightly to the point where you were just waiting to hear a sickening crack.

“I don’t know where his apartment is, asshole. And even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you because i’m not a fuckin’ rat!” You hissed between your gritted teeth as you threw your head back in one swift movement right into the face of the man that was holding you hostage. His nose crunched audibly from the force as he stumbled back right onto his ass.

Blood pooled and gushed down his lips as he yelled out a slew of profanities in your direction. Just as you were reaching for your knife, it was knocked from your grasp and clattered to the concrete out of your reach.

A fist collided with your face that sent you slamming into the brick wall with your ears wildly ringing.

You detected a familiar voice through your half-conscious haze as you slumped down to the ground with a labored wheeze.

A sickening crunch, followed by a strangled yell as Joel had one of the men in a headlock. Their body dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks. Eyes forever unmoving. The man that you headbutted was desperately trying to crawl away as Joel staggered after him. He bent down, grasping the hilt of your knife in his calloused palm.

His pupils were dark like a never ending black pit as he sent his steel-toed boot colliding into his gut over and over again. The man’s wails died in his throat as Joel flipped him over onto his back and slit his throat with one fatal swipe. Blood spurted from the entry wound and speckled Joel’s skin in a spray of crimson.

The third man almost got away, but Joel fired a bullet right into his spine without a second thought.

He focused his attention on you as he crouched down, knife still in his grasp, dripping with blood onto the pavement. His freehand grasped your face gently as he assessed your injuries. His good ear detected the sound of tires crunching under gravel; FEDRA.

“Angel, we need to go. We need to move. NOW.” He spoke urgently as he tucked your knife away before placing that hand along your shoulder. “FEDRA is gonna be here any minute, and I don’t know about you, but my ass is NOT bein’ thrown in lockup!”

When you didn’t immediately respond to his dire request, he took matters into his own hands, literally. You felt his strong arms lift you from the ground as if you weighed nothing. He left the crime scene in a flash. He was speaking to you, but you couldn’t detect his words as his mouth was moving too fast.

The last thing you remembered seeing was his dark, espresso brown eyes, and his blood spattered skin.

“Need’ya to open your eyes for me, sweetheart. C’mon. Guy knocked ya pretty good, but you’ll live.” Joel murmured close to your face as you were coming to.

What the fuck.

Your lashes fluttered for a moment and then snapped open. Despite the ache in your face from being punched, and the pounding in your skull, you immediately shot your hands upwards and shoved harshly at his broad chest.

“Joel?! What the actual fuck–”

“Ah, there she is. The sleepin’ beauty awakes, finally!” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat as he moves off the couch to give you space to breathe.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Joel?”

“Wow.” He tuts under his breath dissaprovingly. “Can’t even get a thank you for savin’ your fuckin’ life?”

“I had the situation handled on my own. What the hell were you doin’ out past curfew anyway?” You sat up a little too fast as blood rushed to your head.

His strong hands were gently easing you back down to a lying position before he was backing off again.

“Easy now, Angel. I wouldn’t sit up a’that fast if I were you.” He warned you sternly.

“Well, good thing you aren’t me, huh?” You snapped back as you swung your legs over the side of the couch.

This time he was more forceful in his actions as his hands pressed down on your shoulders firmly. “I said, stay put. God, can’t you jus’ fuckin’ listen to me when I tell ya to take it easy? You’re gonna bust your nose back open, and the stitches on the back of your head. Just chill the fuck out.” You could taste his hot breath on his tongue and feel his pulse quicken. The bulging veins in his neck protruded through the thin skin.

You swallowed harshly as your gaze wavered along the remnants of blood on his skin. Why didn’t he bother to wash it off? You couldn't help but wonder.

“I didn’t fuckin’ need your help, Joel. And you still haven’t answered my previous question either.”

He rolled his eyes before he lifted his hands from your shoulders and stalked away into the kitchen. You heard him grumbling under his breath as he slammed open a cabinet door that was already hanging by the hinges on its last legs.

“Oh, I see. So you’re just gonna ignore me now? Y’know, its fuckin’ rude to not answer someone when they ask you a question, Joel.” You muttered mostly to yourself, but you secretly had hoped that he heard you too.

Two semi-cleaned glasses were yanked from the sink and lifted from their rims as Joel swiped up a bottle of whiskey before stalking back over to the couch. He slammed the glasses down on the faded coffee table before popping the cap off with his teeth.

You were infuriating. Disrespectful. And he wanted nothing more than to put you right back into your fucking place. He however, refrained from doing so and instead poured a large splash of amber liquor into both glasses.

“Y’know, Angel. One day that mouth of yours is gonna send ya six feet under.” He stated firmly as he picked up his glass, swirled the liquor around before throwing it down his throat in one gulp.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you glared at him from the couch. You reached for your own glass as you slowly sat up. He was pouring himself another when you downed the liquor without a fuss.

“I am well aware of that, Joel.” You deadpanned and he poured you another.

“Good, that’s real good, Angel. S’then it should come as no surprise to you that I think you’re a fuckin’ disrespectful brat.” He rasped low and deep as his words rumbled like an oncoming storm.

The tension in the room was palpable as you stared one another down. Two predators with sharpened claws ready to strike.

______

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[moistrodent]

On the topic of the Seven Deadly Sins being color coded, something I think would be cool is the character having those colors to represent their sins.

Angel Dust or Nifty (or probably even both) being blue makes sense. Angel Dust could have dark blues to resemble how despite being a sex worker, he hates it because of Valentino’s abuse. While Nifty could have light blues to showcase that she’s actually extremely boy crazy and lustful (and unlike Angel Dust she has no regrets.)

Valkryie (I refuse to call her the name Vivziepop gave her) and Alastor could be red to resemble how wrathful they can be. Although Alastor could have subtle shades of purple to represent his Pride.

On the topic of purple, Lucifer and Charlie should’ve worn purple. It would make them stand out and it would make sense since their literally the main royalty in the Pride Ring + purple is a regal color in general.

Husk’s wings could be orange to represent his Gluttony. He's a bar tender who uses alcohol as a escape, so he definitely overindulges in it.

But to be fair, this requires thinking and research, which apparently Viv is allergic to.

Apologies if this was pretty long, it’s just disappointing how much wasted potential HH/HB have

the colour theory in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva boss are lacking to say the least.

I think Angel could have red/pink with blue clothes because he was part of a mob (maybe he was a sex worker in his life time? Never confirmed or denied) to show how his sex worker persona is only that, a persona.

Niffty would also look much better is she was blue to be honest. Blue Niffty truther.

And Alastor and V (that’s what I’m calling her now) would make much more sense to red and purple, they both have red in their design (well Alastor is hot pink actually) but close enough to red. But why they don’t have accent colours OTHER than red, white, and yellow baffles me.

I’m assuming Husk went to hell for gluttony so I think him being a calico looking cat would make much more sense thematically.

Lucifer being red is also so fucking funny, WHY RED? WHY? He doesn’t even look good. He could be purple and white, that would make sense. White means purity which would be a nod to his past in heaven and purple means pride. Charlie just being red, white, yellow, and black is also weird. Her and Lucifer being more like a goat would make much more sense to them.

There are so many interesting possibilities in how Vivziepop represented her characters but instead they’re all red? In greed it’s slightly better but she still just makes everything one colour in a ring, it’s not even colour coordinated it’s just inaccessible. Seriously, it’s so hard for me to look at because I’m red green colour blind. Plus Vivziepop went to art school. She should know this.

[therealloopylupin2099]

Rp facts :D ( it’s so long )

so wanna share some lore with you guys about the big guy spider ^^

Spider: Miguel’s wild,instinct driven side of his brain that comes out. Tell tale signs that it’s him is the retinas changing black and red.Originally they were pure white when he first woke up from the machine that spliced them together in the machine. The spider that was spliced into him, was an experimental one that had a few other spiders in its dna. Wolf spider,jumping spider, and another spider (I already forgot the other one lol). One of the spiders were female.. which means he’s 1/5 female XD!

Originally, they couldn’t talk. like AT ALL! the first word they spoke before Miguel “woke up” was AAAAAROOOOOONN” (comic lore ovo). It was found out that it comes out when Miguel is stressed,hurt,overwhelmed, or upset. (Fun)

It learned speech by listening to everyone around it. The way it talks, it has a speech impediment. The S and Ts are snake sounding or hiss like. Which is the contrast how Miguel talks. When the serum doesn’t work right (it gets blown through very quickly if it’s angered too much), it gets a little.. quirky ( rip Bowe’s jewls). And speech becomes harder for them before they just make spider noises like they originally did or tapping in spider. But when that happens he just shortens everyone’s names to nicknames to make it easier. (Furry spider >:3) the nicknames are either what it sees,touches,or color. Like Lyla. She’s orange lady. myla is purple guy.

It likes building nests. It’s for resting or protecting himself or others (vi and others he said he was sorry-)

collecting things is another instinct that it has,where it stores objects (or people) in webs and guards it.

The spider purr.. it’s more like vibrations but think of it as a cat

The beans.. he has beans because yes.

Its fears are about the same as Miguel’s but its true fear: Cicadas. ( COUGH BOWE COUGH)

It CANT WORK TECHNOLOGY! like it’s the embodiment of “WAIT SPONGEBOB WERE NOT CAVEMEN! WE HAVE TECHNOLOGY! * smashes computer with rock* it didn’t work”

But it figured out how to mimic Miguel in that aspect. It just taps things to the equivalent of button mashing to work stuff and hopes and prays it works. If not,it just throws it.

and just like Miguel. It hates loud noises. No they aren’t a venom varient (although their dna was scanned to make Spider side( more comic lore woo!)

It HATES needles. Alchamax also. And it’s very light sensitive and sound sensitive, so loud sounds for them and Miguel are a NO (no there not a venom but carnage made sound hell)

Rats. He really likes rats. They were his friends in captivity, and they trust them. But sometimes they wind up eating them if they’re mean (ah nature).. don’t be surprised if Miguel gifts you a rat or names them,that’s just how spider is

Now for a really cute nicknames he gave Gabe that might never be used because nobody wanted them to reunite (granted I originally planned on him dying but now i want him and Miggy back together) : Gab Gab and the other nickname: Goggles

And funny thing: the red dot 🔴 chasing was him because it looked like a smaller bug (cat code)

and the kneading.. spiders knead (I think)

Now the question: if there are things invading the body ( carnage,venom,sickness,ect) what happens? Well if the invasive things in the body are alive, then spider either “hides” away and the “personality” takes over,or he winds up bonding with them. Poor Miguel though..

Now if it’s sickness. They do what Miguel does: ignore it until it can’t be ignored.

that’s all for now on spider.. sorry it’s its long lol

[dramaticallycryingblood]

Outing myself as an eternal bartylus shipper.

I read a lot of different ships but I’m always grasping at bartylus crumbs, I’m legit more excited when they make eye contact than when the main pairing (usually jegulus) who has been slowburning for the past 20 chapters finally kiss. I’m just genuinely obsessed with them. I love all the other ships but bartylus just hits different.

It’s like jegulus is folklore and bartylus is reputation. I looooove folklore, it’s so pretty and poetic and tragic, but reputation has me giggling and kicking my feet, it gets me hyped up, it makes me feel badass, it makes me want to dance, I literally started loving Taylor Swift BECAUSE of reputation so at the end of the day I’ll always come back to reputation.

Jegulus is reading and bartylus is listening to music. I adore reading, every time someone asks me what I do for fun I tell them I read, but let’s all be honest I would not survive a single day without music.

Jegulus are my converse shoes and bartylus are my doc martens. I wear my converse almost every day, but I’m sooooo happy every time I wear my docs.

They’re so spideypool coded.

They’re so Batman x Joker coded.

They’re so lover x reputation coded.

They’re so Billy x Stu (from Scream) coded.

They’re so Kat x Patrick (from 10 Things I Hate About You) coded.

They’re so Violet x Finch (from All the Bright Places) coded.

They’re so Lazlo x Nadja (from What We Do in The Shadows) coded.

They’re so black cat x orange cat coded.

They’re so Florence + The Machines coded.

They’re so FOR YOUR LOVE by Måneskin coded.

They’re so Fast Car by Tracy Chapman coded.

I’ve been shipping them since before jegulus was ever anything more than a crack ship, before we started liking Evan so before Rosekiller was even a thing, and I’m not even remotely close to moving on. They live in my bones, in my veins, in my arteries, in my lungs, in my heart, in my brain, in my whole nervous system. They carved themselves in my skin and they run around in my head rent free. And I love every single version of them. Like give it to me toxic, sweet, angsty, desperate, tragically canon, unrequited, in a polycule, in a qpr, just give it to me in any way you want and I will eat. it. up. every. single. time.

[jelluf1sh]

GAWAAAAHH!!1!1! AWWWW YOU HAVE A (tiny) CRUSH??? THATS SO SO CUTE? AHHH IM A BIT CURIOUS NOW… WHAT ARE THEY LIKE?? okok im hopping off topic.

but yeaahhhhh me and my crush’s dynamic (let’s call them A) reminds me of satoru and suguru. i’m more like suguru and A’s more like satoru. they’re sooo energetic.. they honestly remind me of a golden retriever or maybe an orange cat idk (in a good way ofc! it’s adorable). im more of a black cat girlie. oh jelly, i don’t know what to doooo i’ve never felt like this before and A makes me swoon. 😮‍💨🥲

ANYWAY!! i’ll definitely be asking more questions about you (not in a creepy way). i just want to learn more about one of my fav jjk writers 😋!!!

-🎀

STOP IM ALL GIDDY NOW. NO ITS OK I CAN TELL U!! if i had to give us a ship, it’d be like satoru and suguru too, except i think i might be suguru !?? they’re pretty nice to have around!! then again maybe im not suguru because i’m usually a quiet person but then when one of my interests is mentioned or something i can never shut up. idk maybe i am satoru coded!! or maybe we’re more like 2 raccoons BUT AAAA U GUYS ARE SO SATOSUGU!! THATS SO CUTE ♡ PERSONALLY,,, i’m not looking to date anyone rn so ur not gonna hear any details about me asking anyone out but if u are I HOPE U TWO MAKE IT !!

[raichett]

Jellie

Scar and Jellie meet for the very first time in this flash fic :) And I promise, despite some referenced sadness from Scar’s backstory, this is basically fluff all the way down.

This flash fic can also be found on AO3.

–

JELLIE

It’s not often that a vex leaves their contract, but Scar has always been strange for a vex. Too ambitious, too bright-eyed, too full of dreams and desires to stay happy bound in contract with an evoker who won’t ever do anything their mansion doesn’t dictate. So, tired and restless and brimming with frustration, Scar had left. He doubts his absence has even been noticed; there are always more vexes to summon, more ready to fight and die in ceaseless violence for violence’s sake, pillaging villages and then not even rebuilding on the ruins.

A jungle is far from his home biome of a dark forest – much warmer and muggier, filled with life in a way that the deep shadows of dark forests had prevented, shrouding the biome with perpetual gloom from which monsters crept. Scar can hear the chirping of the parrots and the grumbling of the pandas, the wind rustling through the leaves and the smell of growing things – cocoa beans, flowers, bamboo – filling his nose.

He swoops down to perch on a log by a river, for even vexes need to drink water to live when bereft of the magic of a summoner to draw their life force from. He dips grey-blue hands into the stream, cupping and bringing it to his face. It tastes good; thank the Developers that water, by standard code, is always pure and free from contamination, no matter the biome it’s found in. Scar’s heard stories from other vexes that not all servers stay standard, that some add mods to make survival more difficult, just for the challenge of it. Not here, thankfully, though Scar is intrigued by the nature of players to reach higher and further, developing their own skills and abilities, going as far as to handicap themselves and then thrive anyway.

That’s another of Scar’s problems: he’s always been a bit too enthralled by players, and not in the right way, the acceptable way. He’s always been more drawn to what it’s like to live like them, than by any urge to kill them for it.

“Mrrow?”

Scar’s shaken from his thoughts at a noise. He looks up and sees an ocelot on the other side of the stream, staring and tilting its head at him. He squeals with excitement and flutters over, realising a second too late that such often frightens little mobs off.

The ocelot does tense, but stays in place, at odds with its naturally nervous nature. Scar’s seen cats before, in villages, both before the pillagers descended upon them, lounging in the sun and accepting strokes and scratches, and after, picking through the smoking ruins with their little paws, nervy and skittish. He’s always wanted to stroke one, but has never been able to get near enough.

An ocelot is not the same as a cat, but they’re close enough. Scar stops a short distance away, berating himself for distressing the cute mob, reaching out a hand with baited breath and holding it lingering in the air. Come on, he begs silently. Please. Just this once. I want – I want to be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you. Please.

The ocelot sniffs at his trembling fingers, daring to come closer. It licks them, a rough little tongue, and Scar melts. It presses its little head into his palm.

Scar would die for this little ocelot.

Then, all of a sudden, it nips at him, smearing purple blood and licking at it. “Hey!” Scar says, betrayed. That hurt! Not a lot, mind, but still… he’d thought he was making a friend…

The ocelot shakes its head rapidly, ears flicking and whiskers trembling. Scar suddenly wonders what the magical demonic blood vexes carry could possibly do to an ocelot, and feels fear for the little creature; all of its fur is standing on end, puffing it up, and then –

“Oh, um… is that – intended?” Scar murmurs as particles surround the ocelot and its fur changes colour and pattern, from striped orange, black and white to striped greys and whites. A secret from the Developers? An unintended glitch?

The cat – it must be a cat now, it’s no longer an ocelot – purrs. Scar becomes very suddenly aware of a new bond trailing between him and the cat; not a summoning bond, like he shared with his old evoker, now broken by Scar’s hands, but a pet bond, a link of affection and duty. This cat is yours to love, now.

“...Oh,” Scar breathes, and it’s – no one ever trusts a vex with anything, certainly not a mob entirely under his care and his mercy, relying on him for love and food, for a place to shelter and hands to cradle it gently.

The cat comes closer, butts its head against him again, scenting him and seeking affection. Scar’s heart is a puddle on the jungle floor, and he feels like a new vex at just the idea of this cat being his.

“Hello… Jellie,” Scar says, the name flashing and integrating into the cat’s data without even a name tag. That’s now its entity sub-data: entity.minecraft.cat.jellie. What…?

Jellie accepts Scar’s cuddle, miaowing as he scratches behind her – she’s a her, he can tell – ears and purring as he cuddles and strokes her, warm with new hope and new friendship, warm as he never was in that cold woodland mansion. He butts his head against hers, flutters his wings, and croons an answering purr: hello, my friend. My very first friend.

The future opens before him. Scar and Jellie are coming for you, world, you’ll see, we’re coming. We’ll be something worth remembering, worth talking about, worth listening to; we’ll be something great.

[crownamedblue]

Hey, let’s talk about aesthetics

(Written for a school newspaper)

To the readers of the Chariot,

In case you haven’t gone outside recently, surprise, it’s cold. I know, shocker. This- I’d hope- would inspire a change in aesthetics for some. For the purposes of this article, aesthetics are to be defined by a certain look, mood, or vibe. This means it applies to clothes, accessories, and anything else that can be decorated, modified, or chosen specifically. This also means that any and all adults most likely stopped reading the second they saw the word “vibe.” For those that stuck around, I’m not sorry, this isn’t for you, and very little of this will make sense. That being said, let’s talk about some killer fall/winter aesthetics. 

First on the list, inspired by my recent love of sweaters, is Academia as a whole. Academia, as a descriptor, is defined by being related to college or further scholarship. Academia, as an aesthetic, is defined by little london boy being sent to private school, among many other things. We’ll begin with the fit, see here at least two layers, usually a sweater over a button down. Color tones are usually browns in combination with darker shades. Jewelry, specifically in shades of gray, is always appreciated, and books of some kind are necessary. The aesthetic is versaille, ranging from scruffy rebel still forced to wear the uniform, to loner art kid with fingertips stained with charcoal/graphite, to preppy charismatic leader who may or may not be the villain of the story.

Next off is Halloween! It’s Halloween season and I refuse to admit anything otherwise. My friend you need black, you need orange, you need purple. Mon amie you’re gonna need some fake blood and an absurd amount of makeup. No I don’t care that it’s September, it’s Halloween season. Wear those fake teeth! Those black cat thigh highs are necessary! That witch hat headband does not violate the dress code! (it very well actually might, and I hereby deny any and all responsibility that comes from the making of this statement) It is spooky season and I will not shut up about it, we diehard fans of Halloween are the only thing that stops Christmas from encroaching even further. You cower behind our DIY costumes, as we collectively confront the horde of snowmen. We and our “needless obsession for spirit Halloween” make up the STALWART SHIELD PROTECTING YOU NON-BELIEVERS FROM THE JOLLY RED MAN AND HIS HORDE OF ELVES. WE WILL NOT STAND DOWN, WE WILL NOT SHUT UP, WE WILL DEFEND THE HALLOWEEN SPIRIT, BOTH THE AESTHETIC, THE SPECTER, AND THE POP-UP STORE! Ahem…

I got really excited about the first two, as they are my favorites. Not nearly as much detail will be given for the rest, but y’all have instagram and TikTok, It’s not as if they’re hard to find. Starting off with Goblin-core, meaning greens and browns and ratty clothing. Congratulations, your compulsion to grab random things that you personally think are cool can now be spun as “dedication to the aesthetic.” There’s grunge, needing a band tshirt, a flannel, and jeans. Next up is goth, all black, all the silver, all the time. May I introduce to you corvid-core: goblin core in random items, but all black and well put together in clothing. Also on the list is cryptid-core, because mothman is cool and everyone needs to appreciate that. Everyone also needs to appreciate simple eye imagery and all sorts of other cryptids. Just for the men, it’s “straight?” where the fit is fire, you’re wearing jewelry/nail polish, and you look too good for people to fully believe that you’re hetero. For those looking to achieve this look, ask your girlfriend for advice on what to wear. For those who are rather decidedly not straight, try queer-core, where anything and everything works, so long as it looks amazing and is a little bit weird. Under this aesthetic falls different colored makeup, mashups of other styles, and subtly/not so subtly incorporating the colors of whatever your current identity is. You’re valid and I love your earrings. 

Fair warning, looking up these different aesthetics can and will push your algorithm into wanting to give you more ideas. This article is mostly just meant to start your journey into all that, there’s so much more to find outside of this specific instance. If we’re looking for more ideas still, here’s just the names of some more aesthics: cabincore, adventurecore, cottagecore, skatewear, Victorian, glitchcore, fallwear, pink goth, white goth, ska, androgynous, steampunk, cyberpunk, biker, pastel core, carnivalcore, casinocore, fairycore, femfatalle, feral, emo, indie, punk, and electroswing. There are still so many more I’ve yet to mention. What this means is that you have no excuse to just wear a sweatshirt and basketball shorts. Please, I’m begging you, no more basketball shorts, enough is enough, you’re giving high school boys a bad name. They’ve already ruined their image, you don’t need to add to that. Regardless of what you wear or what aesthetic you ascribe to, be confident in yourself. You deserve it. Last but not least, don’t forget that WE ARE THE ONLY THING PROTECTING YOU FROM THOSE BELLS JING-A-LINGING, AND WE WILL DIE BEFORE THAT COOKIE EATER SHOWS HIS SORRY FACE BEFORE OCTOBER. 

-Sincerely, Blue

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Dark Shenanigans - Nandor x (f)reader

Summary: It’s Nadja’s something hundredth birthday, with that said, you’re on a mission to make it great.

Warning: fluff, general vampire nonsense

Masterlist

“Yeah being a half vampire half human does have its perks. I mean for one I can do all that cool vampire shit and I can go out in the sunlight...so that helps for when they’re all being really annoying.” You admit with a casual shrug to one of the documentary cameras before turning to an isle of party supplies. “So anyways we’re at this store.”

The camera shifts to the multiple arras of supplies and materials at the local supermarket in Staten Island that you and your vampire lover’s human familiar, Guillermo, currently are. Specifically on the hunt for birthday decorations for Nadja and ghost Nadja who’s possessed a strange looking doll for the time being.

Since the other four actual full vampires can’t shop for themselves at this time of day or really in general, you and Guillermo have been given such an honorable task in making Nadja’s birthday the best one yet. Considering she’s the most well balanced in the head out of the four of them and is the only other lady of the manor.

“Hey Y/N, how’s this look?” Wonders Guillermo as he holds up a bunch of Mardi Gras beads of yellows, purples, and greens. “Comments, questions, concerns?” He adds with a small smile.

Eyeing up the beads, your head shifts over to the other various colors, “Hrmm, G I’m feeling the vibe you’re going for this year and I like it, but let’s go with Nadja colors.”

Guillermo’s dark eyes light up at your positive suggestion, “Right! So the red and black ones then?”

“Yup. She’ll love that shit.” You state with a satisfied nod of approval, “Let’s get some black and gold confetti from over there and oh, those masquerade masks look cool as fuck.”

You pick up and test out various masks in the background as Guillermo adds some bits of dialogue for the documentary crew, “Um yeah she’s really cool isn’t she.” He says with a smile while glancing at you then back to the camera, “Which is kind of odd since Y/N’s been with Nandor since 1793 so you’d think she’d be a little more like them but no, she’s super chill and really nice.” Suddenly his face goes a bit serious as he leans in to whisper, “But she did kill a whole street gang once when they threw a slur at me so I wouldn’t mess with her. For your safety.”

The camera pans back over to an oblivious you who’s put on a masquerade mask and is swinging a plastic light saber around with a whole lot more accuracy and grace then would a normal person. The camera then pans back to Gullimero, “Um, I’m just gonna....make sure she doesn’t smack anyone.”

——

Arms full of groceries of food for you and Gullimero, as well as random party decorations for Nadja’s birthday tomorrow night, you use the bottom of your boot to skillfully open the door as the documentary crew and Guillermo follows suit. Guillermo now on the verge of falling over with the large heart shaped pillow in his arms that’s covering most of his body.

You don’t feel tired in the slightest due to your half vampiric abilities so this is nothing to you, “Alright.” You state, turning on your heel to face the crew and Guillermo, “They’re asleep so we gotta be extra sneaky now, I don’t want Nadja catching us with all this cool spooky birthday shit. Everyone to the attic!” You whisper yell before leading the charge to the attic.

They all follow as quietly and as quickly as they can and then soon enough in no time are you and Guillermo back outside in the sunny garden trying to figure out if you should blow up the giant sea monster pool floaty.

“I mean it would look cool as hell and no doubt out-do whatever the fuck boring thing Lazlo probably has planned.” You quip with a shrug while the two of you stare thoughtfully at the small gloomy dark pond. “He’s got no chance with us. I’ve won best decorator and card maker for two hundred years in a row.”

Guillermo side eyes you in honest amazement, “Wow that’s a lot of years. And cards.”

“I know. I was an artist in the 12th century but my no good terrible good for nothing piece of garbage trash sexist human husband, who I was forced to marry when I was only sixteen, took all the credit for my artwork in that era.” You confirm with a growl, “But it stings less because once I finally grew into my powers and strength at eighteen I simply made his untimely demise look like an accident.” You add with a smirk.

“Oh, wow.” Mutters the intrigued familiar.

“Precisely. The old fool was thrown off his horse because I told Philip, the horse, to throw him off. And he did. Which killed the idiot so I got the house and all of his money.”

“That’s......neat.” Mutters Guillermo as he shoots the camera crew from behind you and him a nervous look. “Uh the suns going down so I should probably help Nandor out of his coffin.”

Raising your head to the sky you immediately see how the sun has begun to paint the clouds in beautiful colors of oranges, reds, light pinks, and darkening purples. “Oh, how bout that. Yeah alright let’s get inside.” You nod to Guillermo before turning to walk towards the manor’s giant mahogany doors.

——

Turning the handle and walking a couple feet into the large main room that holds itself as a sort of crossroads for all the other various connecting hallways and staircases. You don’t make it even three more steps towards the left ascending staircase before you hear the highly recognizable voice of your one and only.

“Y/N! My lovely wife and favorite person still ever so lovely!” Announces Nandor loudly with a grand smile showing off his pearly white fangs, “How I have missed you and your morning kisses. Where have you been off to?” He wonders softly as you smile a big dumb love-struck grin right back up at him, you’d absolutely die to hear that accent one last time.

“I can’t tell you right now it’s a secret!” You whisper yell back, causing his thick dark brows to scrunch up in confusion.

“But I am your lovely strong puff dragon Y/N.” Whines Nandor adorably as you roll your eyes at the cameras before looking back up at him.

“Fine. Come here then.”

In an instant he’s at your side, excitedly awaiting what secretive news you will tell him, “Okay, so we know it’s Nadja’s birthday tomorrow right?”

“Yes. I remember because she hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Right. So me and Gullimero got some fun surprise birthday party decorations and they’re in the attic and we can’t tell Nadja.”

Nandor gives you a knowing look of affirmation as he leans in closer to you, his demeanor suddenly shifting into a more saddened one, “You went shopping without me?” He says quietly.

Leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek your hands instantly find his, “Just for a little while, but I still need to find more stuff so....you wanna come?”

Nandor’s big dark eyes light up with joy as you hand him a kind smile, “Yes! Let us go in search of unknown treasures for our lady friend Nadja so she will not be mad at us for terrible dull gifts of friendship.”

Laughing you give his hands a playful squeeze, “Come on I’ll race you to Party City!” You say before leading him past the camera crew and Guillermo who simply watches the two of you leave, glad to have an hour of peace.

“There’s a whole city for partying? Y/N why have we never been to this place?”

——

“Y/N there are no people partying here.” Whines your vampire lover in puzzlement as he follows you from the entrance to a side isle. “You said this was a city for partying.”

“That’s just the name of the store Nans.” You retort with a small chuckle as he looks from right to left at all the color coded party plates and napkins galore.

“Well the title is very misleading.”

“Agreed.”

Turning to the right you guide him towards the decretory pirate themed isle in search of something that will peak his interest. Also you wanted so badly to make it to this spot but Gullimero was a man on a mission so your intention was thwarted for when you had Nandor with you.

Speed walking down the pirate themed isle you quickly halt all movement as Nandor’s large body stops within less than an inch from your back. Smiling brightly you snatch the desired object in front of you and as swift as a cat turn to face him.

“Have you come for a dual my old enemy?” You speak slyly, eyes narrowed as you hold the foam sword right in front of his face. “I sense a nervousness about you. Tell me, are you ready to face your inevitable bloody end?”

Staring at the pointy foam, his dark puppy eyes shift over to you as an adorable fangy grin breaks out across his pale face, “Seems you have come prepared, oh radiant and alluring seductress. Well, so have I!” Shouts Nandor before grabbing two foam swords from off the rack and swinging them in both hands like a mad man.

Taking a cautious step back you hold your pathetic five dollar sword in both hands like a true warrior ready for battle, “Only one shall leave this place alive.” You affirm with a smirk, “And it’s not going to be you.”

“Arrrrrggg.” Bellows your lover as he charges you like the true conqueror that he once was. But all to soon do you swiftly duck under his arms and swat him over his stomach with a confident thwack sound.

He makes a puny little “oww” as you turn around to face him once again, “Y/N you hit me kind of hard.” He complains, looking rather defeated and genuinely hurt that you could have intentionally injured him on purpose.

Bringing the plastic weapon down to your side once again, your face suddenly softens as you walk over to him, “Come here you big baby.” You quip sincerely as he leans down so you can give his cheek a quick kiss.

Rising back to his full height, Nandor almost blushes as the corners of his eyes crinkle into a happy smile, “Actually it didn’t hurt at all I just wanted you to kiss me.” Reveals the vampire with a proud grin as you simply roll your eyes.

“Should have known.” You add before turning and snatching up four more plastic foam pirate swords for the others. “Alright let’s get outta here, follow me my love, to the checkout line we shall purchase our weapons of war and partying on the high seas.” You announce with gusto as Nandor stands proudly at your side, ready to follow you anywhere.

“Yes. To check out.”

——

Kicking open the unlocked door, Nandor bursts into the vampire residence with bags full of goodies for Nadja’s birthday party. You right behind him but less dramatically, “We’re back!” You shout to no one in particular as Colin Robinson suddenly appears from out of nowhere, looking ready to leave with his funny little hat and usual beige jacket.

“Oh hey guys,” He starts with a friendly nod, “I’m just heading out on the town tonight. I guess there’s a fair or something in the park and I wanted to test my skill at the ball toss. I’ve been reading up on the body mechanics and how the game is set up which seems pretty basic all in all. Also I really want to win a stuffed bear this time, it might add a little pizazz to my room. Welp see ya’round.” Adds Colin before walking past the two of you without another word and out into the night he goes with some of the camera crew following close behind.

Nandor turns to you with a look of annoyance, “Jeesh I thought he would never leave. Let’s go to your room I want to kiss you some more now.”

“Why my room?”

“Because since you are half vampire you get to sleep in a bed and because I am a full vampire I sleep in a coffin.” Inquires Nandor while looking at you with those big beautiful dark eyes of his, “And my coffin is too small for cuddles so your room will suffice.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point.” You shrug before following him to your room.

After many cuddles leading to other more rated R type activities that lasted until just about sunrise, you finally got some well needed rest while the sun shone high in the sky until she began her dramatic descend back into oblivion. Opening your eyes you slowly rise from out of your comfy bed, already missing the presence of your obsidian eyed lover.

He gets too nervous about your closed windows for fear that the sun might burn him which would be impossible because you black out the glass. But alas, he’s very cautious about these types of things and won’t risk it for anything, though he feels bad about leaving you in the morning, you understand.

Suddenly it dawns on you that today or perhaps tonight, is Nadja’s birthday and you completely forgot to set up any decorations. Shit, how stupid. Throwing the blankets off of you, your feet move quick as you speedily change yesterday’s outfit for something a bit nicer and more clean.

Racing out of your room and into the dimly lit manor hallway, you make a bee line for the attic but before you’re able to reach the steps, Guillermo runs into you, just about knocking you into a wall of various stolen ancient weapons. Sharp ones at that.

That was close.

“Y/N are you okay!” Worries the familiar as you quickly gather your bearings.

“Guillermo! The decorations! Nadja’s birthday!” You whisper yell as the human man simply smiles. “Why are you smiling, this situation does not call for smiles.”

“Don’t worry. While you were sleeping I set up all the decorations.” He replies with a shrug, “No problem.”

“What? But that must have taken you all day, you could have asked me for help. I would have come.” Your brows furrow as he shakes his head, though you still feel bad for not helping with anything.

“Well I did try, but um,” Gullimero awkwardly clears his throat, giving the camera a quick glance, “Nandor was with you and last time I asked for you while you and him where having alone time he threatened to carve out my eyeballs and force feed them to me.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance you take a deep breath, “Sounds like him. Very creative when he wants to be, alright, well....where’s everyone?”

“Oh, they’re not up yet. I was actually on my way to get you. I made blood popsicles and the pool floaty is all done and in the pond.” He says with a sense of pride for his decorating skills. “I think she’ll like what we’ve come up with this year.”

-

Standing in the living room with your three fellow immortals you search a dresser for her card, “Oh shit where’s my card? I could have sworn I had it yesterday on my dresser but I don’t remember seeing it there in the morning. Maybe it’s in this one?”

“Witches!” Hisses Nadja as you huff in frustration, where the hell did you put that damn card?

“Oh, Y/N my love,” Intervenes Nandor with a gentle tug of your sleeve, “I took it with me when I left your room before sunrise because I wanted to put my name on it too so she would know it’s from us.”

“What?” Replies Lazlo dramatically, “Now hold on just a damn minute, this card competition is individually scored so I won’t be having any of this nonsense. I worked really hard on mine this year.”

“Oh lick a donkey’s arse, look here,” You retort with, quickly holding up the card for Nadja, “there are two separate drawings on ours so either way if one of us wins she gets both our pictures. So you better hope your drawing doesn’t resemble a night clubs bathroom wall.”

“Yeah.” Mutters Nandor, who’s hiding behind you while resting both hands on either one of your shoulders as you glare at Lazlo.

“Fine.” Agrees Lazlo begrudgingly, “And mine will be amazing, this bitch of paper took me a whole six months to plan and produce. Can’t get quality this good anywhere else I guarantee it.” Adds Lazlo with a firm nod of self approval as you glance at the nearby camera.

“Right, okay everyone sit it’s time for presents. I want to know what you all got me.” Beams Nadja excitedly as she smiles a fangy grin in delight, plopping herself down in one of the arm chairs. Lazlo quickly finding the other one while you and Nandor seat yourself on the large couch. Colin and Guillermo finding somewhere to sit close by respectfully.

“Well, all I can say is hold onto your socks my dear cause this is going to blow you away.” Smirks Lazlo as he pulls a small box from out of his jacket pocket.

“If it’s a self made business card that says invitation to sexy town I will puke.” You deadpan while Nandor laughs from beside you, causing Lazlo to lose his smirk as Nadja hides her amusement the best she can manage.

“He he, sexy town, nice one Y/N.” Mutters Nandor with a proud grin as you raise a brow at Lazlo who’s giving you a hard glare.

“Oh, my dear pumpkin pie love, don’t listen to Y/N I will love anything you gift me.” Encourages Nadja with a bright welcoming smile, no doubt immediately boosting Lazlo’s once irked mood.

Rolling your eyes you shift a bit to find yourself leaning into Nandor’s body as Nadja opens up the rest of the vampire residents various gifts. A joyous fangy smile gracing her pale features every single time, revealing this birthday party was a thrilling success.

After much more fun that just about lasts throughout the whole night, and some rare but hilarious attempts at dancing between the five of you vampiric individuals. You’re feeling rather sleepy and you can tell Nandor is ready for a trip to dreamland as well.

Swaying to the lowly playing record instrumental, you hold Nandor tight while simultaneously enjoying the feeling of him so close, him doing just the same as he keeps you firmly pressed against his chest. His long dark hair tickles your face as he presses his head to your cheek, doing his absolute best to keep the flow without tripping up.

Sensing his growing fatigue, you gently squeeze his hand, “My love the sun will be up soon, let’s get you to bed, yes?”

A small lazy smile tugs at the corners of his lips while he looks down to meet your gaze, “But my dark angel I’m not tired. I want to dance with you a little longer.” He whines adorably before failing to conceal a big yawn.

Giggling, you lean back to slowly lead him towards the door, “That yawn says otherwise.”

“That wasn’t a yawn Y/N, I was just smiling really big.” He protests, though he still follows your lead to the door.

“I’ve never seen anyone smile like that.” You add with a raised brow.

“Well maybe that’s just how I smile.”

Letting out a breathy snort, you pull away from him to at last take his one hand, “Come. I can’t have a single ray of that dreaded sun to get a taste of your precious skin. Not on my watch.”

Glancing at the closed front door, Nandor squeezes your hand, “Well um, now since you’ve mentioned the sun...I think I’d like to go to my crypt now.” He says, the flash of worry crossing over his face for only a brief moment.

“You sure? I mean a sunrise is pretty beautiful if I’m being honest and I know you never get to see them...”

“Not funny Y/N. And not fair, you know I can’t because I am full vampire.”

“And you’re missing out.”

“And I’d like to stay alive Y/N.”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes and I am your only husband so I need to stay not burnt to a crisp.”

Chuckling, you follow him down the hallway, “Oh really? Don’t want me finding myself with another vampiric lover? Some new beast to sweep me off my feet and take me away into the night.” You tease.

Side eyeing you, he frowns, “No. Don’t I sweep you off your feet?”

Stepping into his crypt you stop him with your hand against his bicep, “Always.” You whisper sincerely with a quick wink, causing him to break out into a big fangy grin.

“Good. And if anyone would try and whoo you I would make sure there would be no more whooing again!” Exclaims Nandor, making the candles rise in flame for only a short second at his rise in emotion for how much he loves you.

“I don’t doubt they would fall by your blade. Not for a second.”

[nitewrighter]

Would you have liked Starfire to be portrayed as less wacky foreigner and more Alien?

While I'm definitely of the opinion that "female alien characters should get to be as weird and monstrous as male alien characters and not have to subscribe to beauty standards as they often do," I think that's a complicated answer with regards to Starfire as Starfire is frequently black-coded (or y'know, just full-on black as we see in Titans) and sometimes autistic-coded. This varies between different writers' takes on her and to be honest I haven't even touched Red Hood and The Outlaws so idk how good a judgment call I can make on the shifts in how she's represented, so I'll just go off of what I know.

I feel like within DC canon, Tamaraneans do already have a lot of cool alien aspects about themselves: they have long tongues and 9 stomachs, and thanks to the 2003 show they have the most random puberty in the galaxy, and... yes I like the language swap via tongue thing, I think it's neat. I also like the emphasis on Tamaranean culture being very emotion driven and frequently polyamorous. But overall as much as I like creative alien designs, I don't mind Tamaraneans being as humanoid as they are. They're still otherworldly-- you kind of get "avenging angel" vibes with all the fire, and there are stories of extremely humanoid aliens in ufology with "nordic" aliens. For me it's kind of a nice pulp sci-fi vibe, like I definitely get Dejah Thoris vibes from some of Starfire's outfits and her whole 'warrior princess' deal, and I think it fits really well for Starfire's place in the DC canon. And I do feel like Starfire's black and autistic coding is important enough to her character that you don't want to take her too hard in the 'xenomorph' direction. In short: I am totally cool with Starfire being a hot orange space babe.

However, if you wanted to, you could take the "Descended from a feline race" aspect of Tamaraneans in interesting directions without massively changing their appearance such as giving them raspy tongues or extra vertebrae like cats (The extra vertebrae could also lean into the fact that Tamaraneans are generally taller than humans).

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (2/???)

Should tw be a thing for a bit of mind-control? Oh well, I'll put it as a warning here just to be safe.  

Three weeks have passed. I've been informed by Eri that Shinsou has a mind control quirk. In all honesty? That doesn't change anything with the way I see him. He doesn't know I know his quirk. He doesn't need to since it wouldn't really change anything. He still seems rather untrusting of me though. I wish to change that, but how? More progress has been made with one of the adults, and he's around the least amount from working three jobs! Ugh, this is rather frustrating.

There is still plenty of time for that to change though. Remember Y/N, it's only been three weeks. At least the bond between Eri and I has grown substantially. We even already made our own little code thing by putting our right pointer finger on our nose, closing our left eye, and slightly poking out our tongues in a silly manner. It makes her giggle every time. We haven't shown that to the others yet. Not because there's anything wrong with it, it just never came up since I leave right after they come home. Shinsou almost saw it twice. No big deal if he does.

I even got to meet the two she thinks so highly of, and they're both adorable rays of sunshine themselves. They even brought dresses for an extra interesting tea party we had that day. The green one- the one whom of which I found out is named Deku, or Midoriya- is rather uncomfortable with wearing the dress, but seems to do it for Eri. The blond, Togata, has a short strapless pastel blue one that he doesn't seem to mind wearing in the slightest. He told me it's because he's rather used to suddenly being naked from his quirk. I can only wish to have that confidence. They told me more about their school, which honestly makes me wish to visit them and their friends someday. Sadly, that's not my place though.

Tonight is a night that I have to babysit them a bit longer, and have to put Eri to bed. Something about extra paperwork. I decided to be good for them and do some cleaning of their house. Nothing major, just the dishes that seem to of been sitting for a bit longer than they should have, and maybe even sweep the living room since there are a few visual piles of cat hair.

I start with sweeping the living room now while Eri watched more of her favorite show with her stuffed animals. It took a bit longer than it should have taken to find the broom in the utility closet. Oreo comes up to me and starts trying to swat at the broom, catching Eri's attention.

A smile starts to form on my face. Why not have a little fun with this? I start to drag the broom around, making him chase it. It doesn't take long for the other two on the cat tree to catch interest. I lean down and shake the broom side to side. Sundae jumps off from the highest point of the cat tree and lunges towards the brush of it, scaring Oreo in the process. Oreo jumps high in the air and angrily starts to bat at his brother.

Eri starts giggling and I get rather close to joining her. Mochi comes over from his box on the floor of the cat tree and starts to lazily bat at the broom as well. Oreo didn't seem to like that, so they jump onto Mochi. He wasn't being aggressive, just playful. I use the broom and gently sweep it on the two of them. They start trying to bite the bristles of it.

Their attention wasn't kept by the broom long though sadly. Sundae attacked Oreo, who was still focused on Mochi, then took off out of the room. Oreo then follows in hot pursuit. Mochi surprisingly trudges after the two of them. I laugh and shake my head while locking eyes with Eri. "They're sure lively today!" She giggles in reply.

There was a giant pile of fur after sweeping the living room. A ball of it big enough to barely fit in my palm. Nothing but a fluffy swirl of black, white, and orange. It's not in my palm though since there's most likely a bunch of other dirt too that wouldn't be pleasant to touch. I get it all in the dustpan and go to dump it in the garbage.

Eri is still rather interested in her show, so I decide to let her watch it a bit longer before cooking and having to put her to bed. Shinsou stayed at his school for a while longer today. My guess is he helps Aizawa or maybe even trains with him there since he doesn't seem like he'd have much time here.

I start doing the dishes, which doesn't take too long. A bit of green mold on one of the dishes makes me recoil in disgust a bit though. Okay, maybe they've been here a bit longer than I thought. Eri came into the kitchen half-way through me doing the dishes and sat on one of the chairs at the table to be by me. "Eri, you don't have to be in here you know. You can keep watching your show."

She shakes her head. "But I like being with you. I get so sad when you leave."

A quick twinge panged through my chest at that information. "Aw, I miss you when I leave too. Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite to be around!" I inform and see her being really happy about that.

It's true though. She's been incredibly easy to take care of compared to so many others from before. Like the brother who kept ripping the heads off the dolls of his younger sister, or the one I kept having to keep a very sharp eye on to not find the hammer to test out how durable the windows of the house were. Or even the one who kept trying to put Play-Doh in their hair. Her past might have some to do with it. I focus my sudden new anger on thinking about the vile man to scrub the stained dishes more thoroughly.

It doesn't take too long to finish the dishes and start dinner. I decided to make dinner for the others too, even though it might be cold by the time they get to their home. Keeping it in the oven for a while might work. I get it ready and put it inside the oven. My stomach growls a bit at thinking about food. I don't feel right eating their food though, so I always bring snacks to eat while Eri eats what gets made. Luckily, she doesn't seem to be picky and sometimes asks for something that can be made. They told me anything for her is fine so that just makes it all the easier.

A familiar purple-haired teen enters the kitchen in the corner of my eye. "Ah, Shinsou! You're back! Your dads told me they wouldn't be back for a while. Hope you don't mind what I'm making for dinner. Eri said she wanted it."

He only replies with an uncaring shrug. He sets his backpack on the table and takes out homework to start on. Ah, homework. Don't miss it. Sadly though, even as an adult homework is still a thing, just in a different way. A part of me also likes to think he's only in here to watch me with Eri again. That's a very common thing I've noticed. He'll be around, but never want to join us. He'd probably hate me more if I told him, but I find him rather adorable in that aspect.

"Hey, Eri. Did you have fun again today?" I pretend not to see it, but that caring smile towards her didn't go past me, boy!

Eri goes over and hugs him. He hugs her back, and I'm pretty sure my heart melted a little again. I can get behind this being a common occurrence. I'm so happy to be the one gifted with taking care of these two children.

I must have lost track of time focusing on the two of them since the stove starts beeping, informing me the food is ready. I mumble out an "already?" and go over to the stove, taking it out. It gets placed on the stove to cool a bit as I grab hot pads, cups, silverware, and everything else needed for the table for the two of them.

Shinsou looks at me quizzically. Eri seems to notice his look too. "They never eat the food they make. Don't know why. It tastes so good!" His eyes narrow at me accusingly.

"I just don't feel comfortable eating your guys' food, you know? I usually just make Eri something and bring a few snacks with me to eat instead," I go off to think in space a little bit. "Okay, maybe that does seem rather suspicious now that I think about it."

"Suspicious?" Eri questions.

"Means like something is not right. Like if a person kept the following someone. A person watching the two would find that suspicious." She tilts her head, maybe more confused. "What does that do with food?" Oh, her dear innocence.

"Don't worry about it, Eri. It's nothing important right now. How about we just eat, and this time I guess I'll join you?" She looks down for a second at her empty plate, then back up at me. "Okay!"

I bring the food to the table and grab another plate, sitting down next to Eri despite Shinsou's glare at me again. Shinsou puts some on his plate. He only seemed keen on eating it after I took a few bites of it.

"Oh yeah, Shinsou?" He looks at me questioningly. "Could you wait here after dinner? I need to talk to you."

He replies with a nod and continues eating. Eri smiles at him. "See Toshi! It's so good!" He gives her a toothy smile. "Maybe even better than Hizashi's." Um... which one is that? I only finally memorized their last names!

Don't think he will tell me, so I decided to pretend to know which one it was. Either way is a 50-50 chance. Maybe I should ask Eri to remind me of which is which.

Eri nods. "Much better than the time daddy tried to make that gross stuff."

Shinsou gets an amused smirk. "You mean that homemade dish he burned beyond belief? heh, he wouldn't let it down for weeks."

I stay silent as I let the two of them talk. Hopefully, I'm not coming off as creepy just by still being here. I do wonder why they want me to stay with the two of them. Shinsou seems much more than capable of taking care of Eri himself. Even if he doesn't know how to cook, it could be learned.

"Y/N?" Eri's voice saying my name snaps me out of the thought of Shinsou cooking and struggling by burning it. "Yes, Eri?" I ask. "Could you read me the princess and the frog tonight?"

"Of course!" I smile at her. "You must be really excited, huh? I've never read to you yet, have I?"

She shakes her head. "Alright, grab the book after dinner and I'll be up there soon after." Her hands shake in excitement. She starts eating her food faster.

"Slow down! It's not going anywhere." I tease.

She only replies by slowing down slightly.

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

I tuck her in and started to read the story to her while laying on the bed above the covers so she could look at the pictures in the book too.

We start to read the book. Well, mostly me reading it out loud to her. I don't even get halfway through the book to notice her falling asleep leaning against my shoulder.

She's rather stubborn though and refused to fall asleep until the book was finished. Laying her down fully, she falls asleep almost instantly.

Turning off the light, I then proceed back to the kitchen. There Shinsou sat, still doing his homework.

It's quiet between us with me sitting in the same chair as earlier. The only sound being the scratching of the pencil he's using on paper. Now is the best time to bond with him, but how? Could talking about his quirk work? Maybe him knowing I'm not afraid would help?

He looks up from the paper, straight into my eyes. "Do you truly like Eri?"

What's with that sudden question? Hasn't it been shown well with my interactions with her? "Of cour-" Something akin to icy claws felt like were wrapped around my head, leaving a numbing and foggy feeling over my body. My body is no longer in control of itself. The only explanation is it's his quirk. So this is his quirk in play. Does he want truthful answers? Then so be it. I've got nothing to hide.

"Be honest," His voice takes a sharp tone. "Do you like Eri?"

"Yes." my voice is monotone, and it honestly sounds rather strange.

He becomes ever-so-slightly less tense. "What is your goal?"

"To take care of you and Eri."

"In what way?" His eyes narrow. "Are you secretly hired to take Eri?"

"No. I am doing my job, and more." His brows furrowed into a look of confusion instead of accusing. "More?"

"My goal is to befriend you and take care of Eri." The foggy feeling goes away from my mind, most likely his quirk losing control as his eyes widen. It's hard to tell whether he willingly stopped, or it was caused by shock. "I'm also aware of your quirk. You should know that makes you no different to me."

He abruptly stands up from his chair like he's never been told such a thing before and can't believe it. I can only imagine how many children probably tell him it's a villain's quirk or something. Poor kid. Er, well... Teenager. In all honesty, that makes it worse. "How long have you known?"

"A week maybe? I'm not afraid of you or your quirk. I know you're trying hard to be a hero, and you'd never do anything that would harm me unless needed. You've most likely been told before, but you're not a villain, nor will you ever be," I smirk at him. "If you are, you're doing a terrible job at being one."

He gives a small and rather happy smile in return. There we go! We're getting somewhere! "Your guardians are usually around, but if you ever need anything and they can't help, you can always come ask or tell me, Shinsou."

He remains quiet for a moment. "Hitoshi."

"Pardon?"

"My name. Call me Hitoshi," He rubs the back of his neck with his left hand. "If you're serious about being with us, then I suppose it wouldn't hurt to call me by my first name," he lets out a sigh. "I also suppose it would also be problematic to find another sitter since Eri is rather attached to you already."

Well, he changed his mind rather suddenly. I'm not complaining though! I nod. "Hopefully I can be close with you as well someday. I know we're still rather rocky, but thanks for giving me the chance to grow better with you."

He replies with a nod in return. The pencil still in his hand writes down a few more things, then he puts it back into his backpack and looks at the time on the stove. "We might as well wait in the living room for their return."

I nod, and we both go into the living room. Shin- Hitoshi is much more relaxed around me now. Man, wish he could have used his quirk for confirmation earlier. Then again, this is the first time Eri hasn't been around, and she probably wouldn't be too happy to see him use his quirk on me.

The T.V. is mostly background noise as the two of us sit in silence. "So, Shin- Hitoshi. Are you more of a comedy person or a horror person?"

He shrugs. "Comedy can help me get into the minds of others by saying things that might make them reply, but horror is more interesting."

"Ooh! that's actually really smart to do! I didn't think of that until you mentioned it!" He smiles and rubs the back of his neck again.

A hand is suddenly placed on my shoulder, making me jump out of my skin. I sharply tilt my head up to lock eyes with Yamada. Seriously! How is their door so silent when it opens!? And more importantly, how can such a loud man be silent enough to sneak up on someone!?

"Glad to see the two of ya gettin' along!" He says with Aizawa slouched beside him.

I smirk at him. "It's been a bit of a challenge, but nothing I'm not willing to try going up against! Also, you scared the daylights outta me! How could you sneak up so well?"

He laughs. "All in a hero's work, even if I'm supposed to be a more noisy one!"

"I bet! Oh! Also, I did the dishes for you and made dinner, which is in the oven. I did it to keep it at least a little warm for when you guys got back to your home. Hopefully, you guys don't mind." They seemed rather surprised by that. Checking the time, it's almost midnight. There isn't school for them tomorrow.  Eri told me they always take non-school days as family days. Well, unless either of them are called in for a patrol.  

I get up and put my shoes on and look at Hitoshi before I go. "It was great getting closer with you today! See you soon, Hitoshi!" The adults' eyes widen greatly, and Yamada's mouth hangs so far open he might as well be a pelican. It makes Hitoshi laugh. Huh, he must not let many call him by his first name or something.

I leave, even more excited for what the future holds with this family than before.

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

[kareofbears]

margin of error

Sophia knows a lot, but that does not mean she understands much of anything at all.

Or, Sophia struggles to grasp why Akira and Ryuji don't follow her predictive algorithm.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Sophia knows a lot.

She can tell you almost anything in the known world in an instant. Calculate the radius of the sun. Who won Best Picture three years ago. The outfit to wear when you need to 'dress to impress.' Just yesterday, she was able to find them a bath, a takoyaki restaurant, and an overnight camping site within 0.3 milliseconds. That’s not very many seconds.

Sophia knows a lot, but that does not mean she understands much of anything at all.

She’s quiet while she’s propped on the phone stand, watching the rest of them lounge in the RV. There’s a shape to the interior that wasn’t there before—where it had been pristine when they had first gotten it, now it’s littered with crumbs and instant-food packaging despite Makoto’s half-hearted attempts at scolding them for it. Empty surfaces are filled with knick-knacks, stuffies and a plastic ramen bowl rattling gently along with the RV.

There’s a rare lull amongst them, a moment of quiet. Most of them were napping away the road, gently snoring and bodies jostling whenever a pothole hits, oblivious to the scenery that passes by. Only the soft tunes of pop music from the front and the hum of the engine broke the quiet.

Other than Makoto, there were only two people awake: Akira, scribbling in his journal, and Ryuji, watching him do it. They sat across from each other in the booth, with Ryuji’s chin propped against his hand.

Probability and pinpoint accuracy is what she excels at, and being able to apply them to her friends excites her. Not to mention, she hasn’t been wrong yet.

Idly, she runs the numbers—according to the data she’s collected from spending time with them, the silence will be broken by Ryuji within approximately two minutes. Pulling up a time from within Akira’s phone, she waits eagerly.

A minute passes, and then another. And another. Akira is still scribbling in his neat penmanship and Ryuji is still watching him doing it, unspeaking.

Frowning, she double-checks her calculations. No errors that she can see. It seems that he simply does not want to speak. This is surprising, and very unlike him. He is not usually this quiet. In the Metaverse, he is by far the loudest of them; calling on his Persona’s name can often leave her own ears ringing.

The real world does not stray from that data. His voice is clear in crowded areas, helpful in guiding their big group throughout bustling cities. He is often shushed by the girls when they are trying to sleep at night—Futaba even goes as far as to kick the ceiling from her bunk bed.

The data is strong and sure. There should not be a reason that she should be wrong in this assumption unless there’s a confounding variable that she had missed.

Akira looks up and catches his eye. “Am I boring you?” he asks quietly.

Ryuji shakes his head, grinning. “Couldn’t be happier,” he whispers back.

Sophia’s about to ask when Makoto cuts her off.

“Wake up everyone. We’re here.”

—

“Okay,” Akira calls. His voice isn’t raised, despite the crowded street of downtown Sendai, but they all straighten up. “We’re probably not going to spend too much time here, especially once we take over the Jail. Grab what you need now—snacks for the trip. Shopping. Souvenirs. Frozen pineapple. Any questions?” Yusuke raises his hand. “Yes, I’ll pay for you.” The hand falls back down, relieved.

“Cool. How about we meet back here…” he squints at the large clock hanging on the wall, hand blocking out the blaring sun. “In an hour?”

A chorus of agreements rolls through them as they rush out, excited to explore a new city. “Good speech,” Sophia pipes up from his hand. “Do you do them often?”

“I try not to,” he yawns. His thick black hair is even more unruly than usual, glasses barely hiding the light blue that’s beginning to form underneath his eyes. “Most of the time, they can handle themselves fine. All they need is a schedule and some rules to work with.”

When she doesn’t answer, Akira brings his phone up. “What? Did I say something?”

“It’s because she’s worried about you, you moron,” a disgruntled voice says.

Akira’s gaze flickers towards it. “You’re still here?”

“Of course I am,” Ryuji says. “You really think I’d leave without saying goodbye? Glad I didn’t either, cause you look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“Still pretty, though. No worries about that part.” He shoves his hand deep in his pocket, stray yen clinking against each other as he rummages. After a moment, he throws something at Akira. “Catch.”

He plucks it out from the air with ease. “Car keys?” he asks, surprised.

“Grabbed them from Makoto before she ran off for stationery shopping.” Ryuji reaches forward, gently turning Akira’s head this way and that, frowning. “I told you to quit staying up so late. You’re exhausted.”

“I am not.”

“He is,” Sophia refutes. “Last night, he had approximately four hours of sleep, with only four minutes of that being REM sleep.”

“I told you. She’s even bringing up computer stuff now.”

“I think you are thinking about RAM, Ryuji.”

“Whatever,” he shakes his head. “Look, just head to the RV, get some shut-eye. You can finally sleep in a proper bed that isn’t an overheating tent with three sweaty dudes and a cat. Oh, and trade phones with me.”

He hands it over without hesitation, sliding Ryuji’s phone into his own pocket. “Why?”

“You have the grocery list in here, yeah? Not to mention, I don’t want Sophia getting bored while you nap it up.” He looks down at her. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi!”

Akira still doesn’t seem convinced. “But I promised Yusuke—”

“Who’s with Ann now, shopping like they’d die if they didn’t get the perfect skirt to fit her next shoot,” he says, uncompromising. “Chill. It’s fine. We’ll survive an hour without Joker keeping an eye on us.”

They stare each other down for a long moment with Sophia watching. She does not need to run the numbers on this one; Akira will not allow himself to go back to the RV.

To her surprise, he relents. “Twenty minutes.”

Ryuji scoffs. “We’ll see about that. You suck at waking up.”

“Shut up.” And then, quieter, “Thank you.”

“You know I got your back.”

He yawns once more, slowly walking back to their car. “Sophia, please make sure that when he gets the Pocky to get the strawberry one. Futaba won’t eat anything else. And also that Haru wanted doilies to make the place look nicer. White, if you can find them.”

“Roger that,” she replies, distracted. How is she wrong again? This is troubling.

“My hoodie’s in my bag if you get cold!” Ryuji calls out. Akira throws him a thumbs up without looking back. “Jeez, that guy. He’s gonna run himself to the ground before he’s thirty, I swear. Like some geezer with a bad back but with really good hairline or something.”

An old man with a thick head of hair shoots him a glare as he passes by them. Ryuji laughs, high-pitched. “Yikes, that was awkward. Let’s get out of here, we need to hit up the grocery store before they run out of carrots.”

Sophia doesn’t answer, too deep in her thoughts and running endless calculations.

—

It’s impossible for her to get a headache, but her code is trying its best to give her one.

Two mistakes now. That isn’t allowed to happen. She’s lucky that they were both relatively small errors, but it can easily become a bigger problem. What can she do?

Luckily, that had a very simple answer.

“Ryuji?”

“Hmm?” He peels his eyes away from scrutinizing the oranges in his hands, the wires from his earphones swaying when he does. After one too many strange looks when he talks to nothing, it was just better to act like he was on a phone call. “Yeah?”

“I have a question.”

“What am I, a teacher?” he snorts. “If you got a question, go ahead. Friends can do that.”

That’s right. They’re friends, and friends have trust in one another. Sophia jotted that down as lesson number forty-eight, thirteen days ago.

“Okay,” she says. Questions float around her, and she picks the one that’s giving her the most stress. “If I was not as useful as you think I am, would we still remain friends?”

The orange tumbles out of his grip, and he rushes to catch it before it hits the ground. “Wha—!” he stutters out. “Duh! Obviously! What the—where the hell did that come from? Did we do something to think that we’d just ditch you like that?” he lifts the phone so that she was eye-level with him. “Be honest,” he says seriously, quickly. “Did I say something to hurt your feelings? I do that sometimes, and I’m working on it, and I know that’s no excuse—”

“You did not say anything to hurt my feelings,” she says before he spirals even further. “In fact, I do not have feelings for you to hurt.”

Relief blooms on his expression, and he sags his body against the fruit display. “Okay, good. Good. Thought I was gonna get a heart attack. I’d be pissed at myself if I did, and I just know Akira would give me so much shit.” He sighs, ridding himself of panic before giving him her full attention. “So what’s up?

“Sir…” an employee shuffles towards them, hands shaking knees knocking against each other. He is afraid, she notes, but of what? “I’m sorry, but it’s against store policy to lean on the product. Please try to understand.”

“Oh, shoot!” Ryuji exclaims, straightening up. “Sorry, man. I didn’t even realize. I think I squished an orange, but I’ll buy it so your boss doesn’t give you hell for that one.”

The employee blinks. “You would?” he says, shocked. “That would be great, actually. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t sweat it,” he waves it off. Tugging the shopping cart, he places Sophia where they’d normally put babies. “Hope he doesn’t get in trouble. I feel kinda bad.”

She thinks for a moment. “Ryuji, why was that man afraid?”

Swiftly, red rushes to his cheeks. “That obvious? Aw, man.”

“I don’t know if it was obvious, but all the signs were there,” she says, watching as he ducks his head, embarrassed. “What is happening? I do not understand.”

“It’s just—” his eyes shift sideways, meeting the eye of a young girl. Immediately, she directs her gaze downwards. “I look really scary to people.”

“You do?” It isn’t in her program to doubt, but she is rather skeptical. During the entire trip, he has been nothing but kind to her. Yes, there are times when he has arguments with others in the group, but more often than not it’s him that’s being teased rather than the other way around. “Why? You aren’t even that tall.”

“Ouch?”

“I’m just saying that you are not scary to me, so I don’t really understand why other people would be.”

He sighs, picking up a box of miso unseeingly. “It’s a combination of a lot of things. My hair’s bleached, and people usually see that as like, punk or whatever. My posture sucks and my voice is loud.” Shrugging, he throws it in the cart. “It doesn’t really bug me though. At least that means strangers usually don’t bother the group, cause they think I’ll kick their ass.”

“And would you?” Sophia crosses off miso. Only bandages are left on the list, but the cart is filled with snacks, sodas, and a small cactus. “‘Kick their ass?’”

“No way. If I did, my mom would kick my ass, and I can’t pull that shit twice in a lifetime.” Pushing the cart, they slowly meander through the aisles, occasionally looking at what’s on sale. Ryuji tosses in rainbow marshmallows, and after a moment, reluctantly puts it back.

“But you know,” he says eventually. “If someone was bothering the group, it’s not as if I’d just let it happen.”

She considers his answer. “You are tough,” she concludes. “But not scary.”

“Uh, yes,” he says, unsure. And then, with more conviction, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Got it. ‘Ryuji is tough, but other people are terrified of him.’ I will make a note of that.” He looks like he wants to say something, but she keeps going. “Synonyms for ‘tough’: robust, stalwart, and strong. Would you say that’s accurate?”

He laughs, disbelieving. “No idea what the first two meant, but the third one isn’t right.”

“Why not? You can fight Shadows. Your muscle ratio is high. One time, when Futaba couldn’t unscrew her water bottle, you did it with no problem.”

“Because, Sophia,” Ryuji picks up gummy worms, and turns to her with pleading eyes. When she shakes her head, he puts it back on the shelf with a grimace. “Strength isn’t always about muscles and who can kill what. It’s more than that.”

It seems as though he doesn’t want to speak about this anymore, but the topic is too interesting to stop here. “Explain, please.”

“It’s...it’s like mental strength,” he says begrudgingly. “Like if someone failed an exam they studied real hard for, mental strength would help them get through a tough situation like that. Like Akira.”

“Akira has high mental strength?”

“Oh, the highest out of all of us without a doubt. The world could explode and he’d be all—” Ryuji lowers his voice by an octave. “‘Here’s what we can do,’ and then fix it somehow. That’s just the kind of guy he is. All plans and no fear.”

All plans and no fear is a good way of describing Joker. “And you aren’t like that?”

“No way. Have you ever seen me have a plan in my life? I’m more of an ‘act before I can talk myself out of it’ person. Usually works out fine in the end. Besides, he does it enough for the both of us.” His eyes light up. “Do you think if I get the panda bandages, it would work better in the Metaverse? Cause of the brain stuff?”

“I think so, as long as it makes people think it works better.”

“Great.” Ryuji tosses it in with the rest. “And I think we got everything! Let’s head out. If we’re lucky, we can grab some ice cream before we meet up with the rest of them.”

“Good job! But you may want to consider removing the orange soda. Makoto is already unhappy with how much junk food you are always eating.”

“Fine. I’m keeping the cactus though.”

It was only when they’re all sleeping back in the RV when she realizes that she never got to ask him her actual question. Actually, she ended up with even more questions than when she began.

Maybe she’ll have better luck asking Akira instead.

—

They, or rather Akira, have their knees buried in a patch of grass in the middle of Sapporo with a small pile of four-leaf clovers by his ankles when she decides it would be appropriate to ask him.

“Akira, can I ask—” she pauses, and tries again. “I have a question.”

His face is so close to the ground that even the dirt would realize that his glasses don’t have prescription, and people are shooting him worried looks that he completely ignores. “Shoot.”

“Actually, I have many questions, and I’m hoping you’ll answer all of them as honestly as you can in order to have the most accurate data possible.”

“Research?”

More often than not, Akira has been giving her information about the world that she does not have access to. Slang terms that Futaba yells out in frustration, Ann’s tendency to jump from one topic to the next with little regard to who she’s talking to. It’s all confusing to Sophia, so she makes sure to memorize all of these instances and bring it to him for clarification.

“Sort of,” she says. “Some of my predictions have been off lately, and I am trying to figure out why.”

“Sure. Oh, another one.” Gently, he plucks it from the soil and gently places it with the others. “For Haru. Apparently, she’s really struggling with economics, so hopefully this helps her out next semester.”

“How many more?”

“Four,” he replies. “Yusuke, Sojiro, Akane, and Ryuji.”

She frowns. “Ryuji already has one.”

“He’s going to need more than one.” Akira turns to her, distressed. “Entrance exams are coming up.”

“Oh.”

“Yup,” he turns back to his task. “Anyway, you had a question?”

“Right,” she says, clearing her throat: a sign of taking a more serious tone. “Why are you scared of Ryuji?”

Akira freezes. Sophia waits patiently. But after a moment, then two, then five, there is still no reaction from him. And then slowly, he faces her with a blank expression.

She has not known Kurusu Akira for very long—only a few weeks in fact. But in that time, she feels that she has come to learn a lot about him. For instance, he does not like pears. He also finds grocery shopping relaxing, and he would die for his friends. Another thing she has learned from him is that he is very quiet; even in the Metaverse, amidst the explosions and gunshots, he does not yell. It is not as if he has nothing to say, but rather he would rather express himself through gestures and the odd comment here and there. He is much happier to let the people around him carry the conversation for him.

Shock racks through her as he bursts out laughing. His shoulders move up and down as laughs pour out of him uncontrollably. “What—?” he tries, pushing his glasses atop his head. It’s almost hidden amongst his thick, black locks. “Did you seriously ask if I was afraid of Ryuji? Sakamoto Ryuji? Blond guy, helps out in the Metaverse? My best friend?”

“Um.” This was not what she was expecting, despite having no expectations to begin with. “Yes.”

He sighs, content. “I really have to thank you, Sophia.” Akira brings his glasses back to his nose, the corners of his mouth quirked up. “That was really good. Haven’t laughed that hard since Yusuke thought Italy was near Mexico.”

She tilts her head sideways. “I was not joking.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He sits up, crossing his legs over each other, giving her his full attention. “Tell me why you thought I was scared of him.” Even as he’s sobered up, he can’t quite finish the sentence without smiling.

“My predictions have been off lately,” she says, a wrinkle between her brows. “This is normal—predictions by their nature cannot always be right. However, I’ve noticed that they’re incorrect more often lately. I ran the data, and these errors are related to two things:” Sophia brings her hand to the screen so that he can see properly. “You and him, as a unit. Individually, there doesn’t seem to be any errors. It is specifically when you are being measured together that creates mistakes. My prognosis on everyone else in the group creates more stable and accurate results.”

Sophia twists her hair in her hands. “The only reason it would be wrong is because of a confounding variable. Maybe there’s something between the two of you that others do not have. So I thought that answer—”

“Was fear,” he finishes. There’s an odd tone in his voice that she doesn’t comprehend. His gray eyes, sharp but never unkind. “I see where you’re coming from. But, and I can swear on this fact—it isn’t fear. I am not, nor will I ever be, afraid of him.”

She deflates. Wrong again. “And he’s not afraid of you?” she asks, out of desperation than anything.

Akira thinks for a moment. “Do you remember when I was cooking, and Ryuji went in to smell the broth, and knocked the whole thing over and onto my suitcase?” She nods. She had taken many pictures of that moment. “He felt really guilty, but he wasn’t scared of my reaction. He was more scared that he had ruined my stuff. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do.”

He bops the top of his phone a few times, an odd resemblance of patting her head. “Cool.”

Sophia stares at the road past their garden of clovers. Cars speed forward, too quick for her to focus on what the driver looks like. It’s hot today, but she doesn’t feel it. She runs her data one more time. “Akira, do you love Ryuji?”

His hands do not pause. “I love all my friends,” he answers simply.

—

At the end of the day, it does not matter if her attempts at predicting the future are fruitless. If she is in fact humanity’s companion, her code makes sure of one thing above all else: to help humanity with any of their endeavors.

That’s a tall order, especially when there are 7,874,965,825 humans within that humanity at this moment. Sophia is only one being, and realism is etched into her. To make things simple, she gave herself a domain of discourse. A sample size. Narrowing what she can do, and who she can help. The entirety of humanity then, at least in Sophia’s mind, falls under the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.

Sapporo is freezing. Frosty. Crisp. Chilly.

“Fucking cold!” Ryuji shivers, jogging around them in an effort to get warm. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.”

“Even with the space heaters on, it seems that the winter isn’t interested in going anywhere,” Makoto says. She’s standing uncomfortably close to Ann, trying to leech off of her inherent heat. Actually, she wasn’t the only one—Haru is also inching her way to her. “It should probably get better once we start moving. Good thing we won’t be here long.”

Yusuke nods, unperturbed. “Yes, this should be a quick run. We’re just here to collect a desire gone astray, yes?” It seems that the ice does little to bother him. “Oracle, can you find its location?” No response. “Oracle?”

He glances to the ground, sighing when he finds her on the ground, eyes closed and breathing deeply. “Wake up,” he says, nudging her with his boot. When she doesn’t move, Yusuke throws an exasperated look at Akira.

Reluctantly, he nods. “Yeah, yeah, I got her,” he says, summoning Queen Mab. Instantly, the temperature seems to rise, just a little bit. Scooping her up, Akira shakes her roughly like a particularly malicious sack of flour. “Wake up, your space heater’s here.”

“This may be a quick run,” Haru says. “But it doesn’t mean we should take this any less seriously. Someone’s desire got lost on its way back, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, that sounds—Mona, get off my leg—about right.” Ann squints her eyes along the horizon. “It’s far, right? If we start moving now, we can probably work off the frost on our skin.”

“Yeah, it’s about…” Futaba yawns as Akira sets her on her feet. “Twenty-minute walk? Ten-minute run, but unless you want me slipping and turning the ice red, we’re gonna want to slow down.”

Akira touches his mask. “Agi.” A wave of heat rushes over them, and she sighs, grateful for the respite. “Hopefully that helped a little. But it won’t last long, and we shouldn’t waste energy warming up. Quick recap—someone lost their desire, we’re here to make sure it gets back. Our top priority is getting that desire back as quick as possible. Questions?”

Sophia raises her hand.

“Yup?”

“Did you say top priority?”

“Yes, I did say top priority.”

“Understood!” she chirps, making a note in her head. It was hard to concentrate when she felt like her insides were freezing up.

Another hand shoots up.

“Noir?”

“I don’t have a question. I just think you’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Thank you, Noir. Always a pleasure.” He looks around, nodding. “Alright. If that’s it, then let’s do this thing.”

They all move ahead, wary of their footing. Sophia frowns as she scuttles forward, scared of being left behind. There is no room for error here. If she feels that she is not useful in the real world, then she can at least utilize her talents here. And the first step to doing that is to make sure she is doing two things:

1) Not slow

2) Won’t trip

After a while, she looks up and feels her eyes bulge. How did they get so far already? Sophia can hardly see them anymore, especially with the slight fog that’s beginning to emerge. She has to get there faster.

Failed step number one already. For once, she’s glad she wasn’t hardcoded with emotions, or else humiliation would be overwhelming. Quickening her pace, she’s determined to do this correctly. One foot, then the next. One foot, then the next. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left—

She slips.

With a gasp, she moves to twist her body so that it wasn’t her head that would take the impact, and closes her eyes shut.

Just before she slams into the ice, arms grab her torso, swinging her forward. “Whoa there, shorty!”

Ryuji uses the momentum to swing her onto his back, and she latches around her neck, bewildered. “You okay? Almost got knocked out before any Shadow got to us.”

“Yes,” she replies, breathless. “Thank you for saving me. That would have been bad.”

“No prob!” he marches onward as if he wasn’t carrying an entire human being on his back while treading through sleet.

“...You can settle me down if you’d like.”

“I would not like.” He grins, boots finding matte ice with ease. “I kinda love carrying you like this. Not like I can do this in the real world, can I? ‘Sides, Futaba would chew my head off if I tried it with her.”

“Have you?”

“Maybe.”

She laughs as they finally reconvene with the rest of them. When Akira turns to them, his expression softens with relief. “All good?”

“All good,” Ryuji says. “Nothing Sophie and I can’t handle.” He raises his fist at her, and she bumps it enthusiastically. Lesson twenty-three: never refuse a fist-bump. It’s one of her favorites.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” Futaba calls out from beside Ann, arms were linked as if they were strolling through a park, and not a Shadow-infested land. “I said stop!”

“We heard you the first time!” Morgana yowls. “Are we here?”

“We’re close. Kinda weird though.” She smacks the side of her goggles a few times impatiently. “Nothing’s showing up.”

“Lucky!” Ann whoops. “Let’s get this over with and get some gelato!”

Rounding the corner of an empty street, Yusuke points forward to a glowing heart, beating in time to its pulsing light. “That’s it, I take it?”

“I can get it.” Sophia pats Ryuji’s shoulder, and he lets her down. “That way, we can finish this as soon as possible.”

She runs forward, eager.

“Wait—!” Futaba cries out from behind her. “We’re getting ambushed!”

As she says it, footsteps surround them, the clanging of weapons and the grunts of Shadows appearing out of nowhere. She starts to run faster, terrified of slipping but pushes on anyway. She can do this.

“Shit,” Akira hisses. “Sophie, come back here!”

Sophia ignores him, the Desire almost in her reach when she feels it. A cold breeze, impossibly colder than the temperature before, almost seems to pierce through her skin. She did not need to turn around to know what it was—every cell in her body is screaming it for her.

A curse. A strong one that would have no problem wiping her out like fly on the RV’s windshield wiper.

Would she at least be able to save the Desire? Even if she ceases to exist? Would it be worth it then? It should be, since this is what she was made for.

Something solid shoves her from behind, and she gives out a yell before hitting the ground, hard.

“What…?” she mutters, disoriented. Somehow, she isn’t dead, or even near death. Shaking her head, she grasps for the Desire in front of her before turning around.

Instantly, her heart stops. The Desire in her hand continues to pulse steadily as she stares down at Ryuji, collapsed on the ground.

“Skull?” she whispers. Leaning down, she can still hear his breathing, though it’s faint. Her hand reaches out, before she remembers. Top priority. The Desire needs to get to Joker first.

The ground begins to rumble, and Sophia looks up in time to see an arch of glowing white explode. Every Shadow is eviscerated, their ashes scattering violently at the aftershock of wind that follows from the impact. Concrete cracks, snow blows away. Without a doubt, it’s an attack from a Persona user, but she has no idea who it came from.

As the dust settles, stray bits of ice falling from the sky like hail, Akira shoots out from the fog. He’s moving faster than she’s ever seen him, and there’s a desperation to his movements that throws her off-guard. Maybe he didn’t see yet? Sophia steps forward.

“Joker!” she calls out when he gets closer, thrusting her hand forward. “I got the Desire!”

He rushes past her without a blink.

Akira skids to his knees. “Ryuji!” When there’s no answer, he pulls Ryuji to his knees, resting his head on his lap. Akira presses his fingers against the pulse on his neck, concentrating intensely. Then he grits his teeth. “I can work with this.”

More footsteps. Familiar ones. “Dammit, Joker!” Morgana says. “You can’t just throw around attacks like that, especially with such weak enemies. You know how draining that spell is.”

He ignores him. Akira removes Ryuji’s mask with great care, setting it aside, before touching his own. “Aid me, Sarasvati.”

“Joker?” she tries.

A floating woman donned in green with a delicate instrument in her long fingertips appeared from the fibers of his mask, her expression kind and tender.

“Joker.”

Healing power flows through his hands, so potent that it glows green. Sweat pours from his brow, and his wrist begins to tremble with effort.

“Joker!”

“What, Sophie?” he rounds on her, gray eyes intense.

“I got the Desire!” she announces triumphantly.

A beat passes. And then another. It was as if there was never even a deafening battle not one minute prior.

When Akira finally speaks, his voice is low. “Panther, take Sophie away please.”

Her breathing stops. She could not inhale the air even if it was demanded of her. Akira turns back to Ryuji, but Sophia’s eyes stuck to him—like she was hypnotized, cemented to the back of his head, unable to look away. Every inch of her body is numb, but none of it has anything to do with the cold.

Ann gently takes her hand, hot as iron against hers, and takes the Desire in the other. “Come on, Soph. Let’s go for a walk, huh?”

She lets herself be led away, blank and unseeing, a part of her staying wishing to stay behind to...what? She didn’t know. There’s so much she doesn’t know.

They keep walking, rounding street corners, quietly passing underneath frozen lamp posts. Sophia wasn’t sure where they were going, but she didn’t bother to ask. Eventually, they duck underneath a railing, Ann covering her head to make sure she doesn’t accidentally bang her skull against the metal. When they straight up, she blinks.

“A heater?”

“Yeah,” Ann sighs, flopping down on a toppled column as if it were a sofa. “I figured if we were going to talk, you might as well stop shivering during that time.” At her words, Sophia realizes how hard she was shaking. Ann pats the spot beside her. “Sit. Nothing a little girl talk can’t fix.” She does.

At her silence, Ann hums. “Cold, isn’t it? You guys haven’t stopped complaining since we got here. I’m super lucky that Carmen’s here to help me. Warms me up even better than this heater, if you can imagine that. Completely different from the real world, where we feel like we’re going to burst into flames any second.” She yawns. “But god, there’s no one in all of Japan that can run his mouth about the weather like Ryuji.” Sophia clenches her fist, but she keeps going, speaking almost wistfully. “I mean, he’s just so loud, you know? Like, how many times have we driven by cows on this trip, and he’d literally wake us all up just to show us? Not to mention, he eats up all the food and snores like crazy. God, one time I invited everyone over at my place, and he just slept in my bed when he got tired! Who does that?”

Ann sighs. “But man, I’ve never met someone more devoted to his friends than him. Sometimes, he’d even give ‘Kira a run for his money, the way he’d just drop everything and run to where trouble is. Day or night, that idiot would show up on your doorstep the minute you shoot him a text, wearing the most ridiculous pajamas you’ve ever seen,” she scoffs. “He started the Thieves with Akira, you know? All gung ho about justice and stuff, you should’ve seen it. And he had the spine to back it up, too.” She smiles, just a little. “Don’t tell him, but I think he’s really, really cool.”

A drop of water hits Sophia’s wrist. And another. And another, until her vision blurs and her chest is heaving. “I just—” she sobs without restraint. “I was just trying to help. I just want to be useful and do what I was made to do, and Akira said from before that this—this was the top priority, and I even made sure, so I asked, but when I finally got the Desire and I was so sure that I’d finally done something right...” the image of Akira’s cold gaze makes her flinch, hard. “He’s just so mad at me, Ann. And Ryuji—” she chokes on his name like a curse, her tongue tumbling over it as if it were getting caught in a lie. “He protected me from before, but he said he was tough, so I thought it was okay since the Desire was the top priority but he got hurt because of me.”

“I don’t even know what I’m feeling, or why I’m crying, or why you’re being so nice to me even though I know I did something bad! I just—” Sophia buries her face in her hands, muffling her scream. “I just don’t understand anything!”

Warm hands rub her back. “I know,” Ann says quietly. “You’re trying your best. We all get that, and we all think you’re doing an A-plus job.” She pauses. “Sophia, Ryuji didn’t take the hit for you because he was thinking about the Desire. He did it because he didn’t want to see you hurt.”

That makes Sophia peek up. “But that was the top priority, wasn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, but that wasn’t his heart’s top priority.” Ann pokes her temple. “That whole logic and calculation thing you have going on is good and stuff, but the thing about the human heart is that you can’t always choose why you do things, or how you react in certain situations. I bet you anything that he totally forgot that we were even looking for this thing when he pushed you,” she waves the beating heart in her hand, still glowing. “And that’s also why Akira got a little mad at you from before.”

She deflates. “He hates me,” she mumbles, feeling her insides churn uncomfortably.

“That boy doesn’t have the time in his schedule to hate anyone,” Ann reassures her. “He’s just...really, really terrified.”

“But why?” Sophia’s starting to despise that word. “He already knew that he was okay. Why would he still be worried?”

Ann looks up, thinking. “You really love and care about Ryuji, right?”

Love was still a foreign concept to her, but for once the answer came forth with ease. “Yes.”

“Take that feeling, that dense, little ball of love and adoration in your tiny body, and multiply that by about eighteen million. That’s probably about the range of what Akira feels about him.”

She quickly runs the numbers. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Kinda scary, huh?”

It is scary. With numbers this high, she can only begin to imagine what it felt like for Akira to think that he might be seriously hurt, or even worse, dead. All because of Sophia.

“Hey now, I know that look!” Ann flicks her forehead. “I don’t want you to get all mopey about this. You said it yourself—he’s a tough guy. The toughest there is, but don’t tell him that. It’ll go straight to his empty head.”

She stands with exuberance, stretching. “Alright, I think we’re about done here. How we feeling? You ready to go back?”

No. Her heart speeds up at the thought of going back, her shoulders tensing in on itself, but somehow it would be worse to stay here. “I’m ready.”

“That’s what we like to hear!” Ann cheers. “No chickening out now, okay? You can do this.”

“I can do this.” Sophia repeats, and then, louder: “I can do this!

“Yay! And Sophie?” she looks up in time to see Ann giving her a warm look. “Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t mean we love you any less. You are allowed to be confused and make mistakes. Do you understand that?”

Sophia smiles wide. “I understand.”

—

They were a block away from the rest of the group when Akira emerged from the fog. With his black attire and dark hair, he could have looked like a picturesque horror movie figure, but somehow his expression ruined that facade the moment she saw it.

“I’m going on ahead,” Ann says when Sophia stops in front of him. “Someone has to make sure Futaba doesn’t sleep on us again.”

“Thanks,” he answers. Then, to Sophia, “Hi.”

“Hi, Joker.” She’s been practicing her speech the entire way back, her points all lined up in her mind, all leading up to the big apology. “I—”

“Pause,” he cuts in, and she shrinks. Is he still mad? She can’t read his expression. He kneels in front of her, squinting, and it suddenly shifts to horror. “Did...did you cry? Did I make you cry?”

“No,” she says quickly, but he doesn’t believe her for even a minute. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Oh god, no, please don’t apologize. Shit,” he rubs the back of his neck, sighing. It’s guilt, she realizes with a shock. “I’m such an asshole. I can’t believe I let myself lash out like that. A thousand apologies won’t even be enough. I was scared out of my mind, but that doesn’t mean I can just treat you like that. I even sent you away, like you’re some sort of kid,” he winces. “I’m really sorry. Can you forgive me?”

She stares at him. “I was supposed to say that stuff.”

He looks taken aback by her words. “No? How could you have known that we would have been ambushed? Ugh, I’m so dumb. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” Akira sends her a pointed look. “Though, you really shouldn’t split off from the group next time. Top priority means important, but above all else is your safety. Put that in your code.”

“I will,” she promises.

“Good. And the second priority is—” he reaches forward and engulfs her in a tight hug. “Is that you won’t ever, ever think that I’d hate you.”

She frowns. “How did you know?”

“A hunch.” Beat. “Also, Ann gave me a look.” He pulls back. “Are we still friends?”

Relief washes into her, crashing like a wave. “Of course,” she says, before hesitating. “Is…?”

“Yeah, he is.” Akira rolls his eyes, but there is no hiding the grin that takes over him. “A little too good, actually. He hasn’t stopped running around since I poured some energy back into him. I kind of think I overdid it, actually. Oh, and he’s excited to see you again.”

“He is?” she asks, hopeful.

“Absolutely. Asked about you the minute he came to.” Akira gets to his feet. “Shall we say hi?”

“Please.”

As they walk back, an epiphany takes over her. “Oh!” she exclaims, making Akira jump. “I get it now.”

“What’s up?”

“You love Ryuji.”

“That’s right,” he raises a brow.

She shakes her head. “You love Ryuji,” she insists. Even accounting for a margin of error, there’s simply no mistaking her results.

Akira stares at her for a long moment, before huffing out a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he says softly.

The moment Ryuji sees her, she sprints, throwing caution to the wind as she leaps into his arms. He catches her without hesitation. “Glad to see you’re safe, shorty.”

Sophia knows a lot of things, but there’s also a lot she doesn’t understand. But that’s fine. She’ll get there, and her friends will be waiting for her when she does.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

11x09 - The Classroom - Analysis

Okay, let’s talk about this classroom. I said on Monday that pretty much every single image in the background is TD in some iteration. I’m just going to quickly go through everything we’re seeing.

Behind Daryl on this wall are paper animals, including a cat, a horse, a frog, a bluebird, a rabbit a pig, and a black dog. All symbols we’ve seen used either around Beth, or just tied up with the resurrection symbolism in general. 

Also notice the deep-colored red and blue coloring smocks. It reminds me of the red cloak thing hanging in Beth’s cell.

Look at the blackboard on the left. There are numbers and letters. You can read the questions, remembering this is a child’s schoolroom. 

But look along the extreme left-hand side. ABIBEL. Everyone remember the ABIBEL theory? Guys, this has been around since the prison in S4, but we also saw it on a chalkboard, very similar to this, at Oceanside when Tara ended up there. So, it’s always entangled in Beth symbolism.

The blackboard behind them says Ms. Adams class. We wondered if that might be a biblical reference. It also says, “Remember, if you get lost in the woods (?) to S.T.O.P., which stands for Stop as soon as you realize you’re lost. Think about the situation. Observe your surroundings. Plan what to do. On the opposite side, there’s a lesson plan about preserving food. A note about always using the buddy system when you’re somewhere new, and a box in the middle that says, “What did you learn today?” Not sure all of that is terribly significant, but just so everyone knows what it says. Moving on.

The small board in the background says something about how everything you do should Praise the Lord. Not surprising it would be somewhat religious. After all, this was Maggie’s community, and Hershel always was.

Here, I want you to notice the paper lanterns strung across the room. Obviously a craft for the kids, but they remind me of Eastern or Tibetan lanterns, so they’re probably part of the Tibetan symbolism.

In this picture is the board with the fill-in-the-blanks, all related to farming and growing food. Again, obvious this is Maggie’s community. Sam’s drawings are directly above this board.

Now look to the board on the left. There’s something that says either Horse or Morse (like Morse code?) with a big green circle on it. Not sure what that is. I have an arrow pointing to the monkey, both because of the see/hear/speak no evil, but it also looks strikingly similar to the ones Emily posted the night she filmed at the white church (missing 17 days scenes).

Now look at this paper about bugs. The ones that jump out at me are the dragonfly (might have been one of those in the chalk mural at the prison), the butterfly in the center, and the ladybug on the left. 

We’re not sure why there’s a line coming out from it, almost like a long tongue, but it’s clearly a ladybug.

Next to the door Leah and the other Reaper come through is a red car and a carousel of horses.

Here’s a shot of the opposite wall. The ABIBEL is cut off here, but above the board are drawings of a yellow car, and a yellow robot of some kind. Yellow, we know. Not sure what the robot is about.

And then next to the board is an interesting one. It looks like a spider missing two of its legs and a centipede. If you look closely, the spider has an orange hourglass on its belly. That means it’s a black widow. Look, spiders drawn by kids are one thing, but they usually draw friendly spiders, like the one from Charlotte’s Web. For a kid to specifically draw a black widow, and the disturbing imagery of it missing legs, is just weird. So, obviously purposely placed by the writers. We’re not sure what it means, but black widows are poisonous, so there’s that.

We saw spiders around Alpha a lot, and I want to say we might have seen one at the beginning of either Still or Inmates. So, maybe they just represent something toxic or poisonous about to happen. I can see this representing Leah. Daryl thought she was a good person, but she turned out to be poisonous, both to him and to TF at large. Just conjecturing, though.

As Daryl emerges from his hiding place, we see both a sheep and a fish on the wall next to him.

So, what does the room mean?

This past week, my fellow theorists and I had a convo about breaking glass and what it means. I’m sure I’ll post it for you eventually, but I’m not going to the do the entire thing today, because it’s too long. The gist is that we think breaking glass represents the breaking of a barrier between the living and the dead. Symbolically, of course, rather than literally. Think of it this way. We often see hoards of walkers breaking through glass to get to the living, right? And the entire show is based on the dead coming into the realm of the living through reanimated corpses.

So, what caught my attention here is that Leah and the other Reaper guy had to break through glass to get into this room. At first, I wasn’t sure if it represented Daryl being in the land of the dead, or Leah coming into the land of the living. I think it’s the latter.

I know it’s kind of hard to tell from these pictures, but the walls of the room are mostly green. Not deep green. Kind of a yellow-green. But when I deeply saturate the color, it’ looks more green than yellow. Either way, both colors represent Beth and her survival.

So I think this represents Daryl fighting for himself and his family in the land of the living. Leah and her Reaper buddy represent death symbolically, because they’re literally looking for Daryl and his group to kill him. They break through the barrier (glass) and he has to hide in one of those hidden rooms. There’s definitely a theme about hiding from death. And the hidden rooms are part of it. It’s something we should explore more deeply, but for now, I think this is what they’re going for here.

And why show this, specifically, now? I’m not entirely sure on that one. I think it’s important that it’s tied up with Leah and the Reaper arc. It’s probably either a foreshadow or a parallel of some bigger theme. But they might have also just taken this opportunity to give us tons of TD symbolism, because as I said yesterday, I think everything in every one of these episodes is pointing to Beth’s imminent return.

That’s about all I have for today. I’ll finally talk about Sam’s pictures and Negan leaving tomorrow.

Thoughts?

[warriorsbutnotreally]

From The Ashes AU - Allegiances - TBC

Yes, I'm still thinking about this

No I won't stop anytime soon

For anyone who has yet to see the first post, which takes place at the very end of Squirrelflight's Hope, feel free to check it out

This is for Book 1 of The Broken Code, Lost Stars

I've not decided if the plot is still the same, but I do go through some notes at the bottom, so bare with me.

THUNDERCLAN

LEADER - Bramblestar, a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

DEPUTY - Rosepetal, dark cream she-cat

MEDICINE CAT -

Jayfeather, gray tabby tom with blind blue eyes

Alderheart, dark ginger tom with amber eyes

WARRIORS -

Thornclaw, golden-brown tabby tom

Whitewing, white she-cat with green eyes

Birchfall, light brown tabby tom

Berrynose, cream-colored tom with a stump for a tail

Poppyfrost, pale tortoiseshell and white she-cat

Lilyheart, small, dark tabby she-cat with white patches, and blue eyes

Bumblestripe, very pale gray tom with black stripes

Blossomfall, tortoiseshell and white she-cat with petal-shaped white patches

Eaglewing, ginger she-cat

Dewnose, gray and white tom

Hollytuft, black she-cat

Honeyfur, white she-cat with yellow splotches

Shellfur, tortoiseshell tom

Plumstone, black-and-ginger she-cat

Leafshade, tortoiseshell she-cat

Flywhisker, striped gray tabby she-cat

Snaptooth, golden tabby tom

QUEENS -

Sorrelstripe, dark brown she-cat (mother to Baykit, a golden tabby tom, and Myrtlekit, a pale brown she-kit)

ELDERS -

Graystripe, long-haired gray tom

Brackenfur, golden-brown tabby tom

.

.

SHADOWCLAN

LEADER - Tigerstar, dark brown tabby tom

DEPUTY - Cloverfoot, gray tabby she-cat

MEDICINE CAT -

Puddleshine, brown tom with white splotches APPRENTICE, SHADOWPAW

WARRIORS -

Tawnypelt, tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

Dovewing, pale gray she-cat with green eyes

Strikestone, brown tabby tom

Stonewing, white tom

Scorchfur, dark gray tom with slashed ears APPRENTICE, FLAXPAW

Sparrowtail, large brown tabby tom

Snowbird, pure white she-cat with green eyes

Yarrowleaf, ginger she-cat with yellow eyes

Berryheart, black and white she-cat

Grassheart, pale brown tabby she-cat

Whorlpelt, gray and white tom APPRENTICE, HOPPAW

Antfur, tom with a brown and black splotched pelt

Blazefire, white and ginger tom

Cinnamontail, brown tabby she-cat with white paws

Flowerstem, silver she-cat

Snaketooth, honey-colored tabby she-cat

Slatefur, sleek gray tom

Pouncestep, gray she-cat

Lightleap, brown tabby she-cat

Conefoot, white-and-gray tom

Frondwhisker, gray tabby she-cat

Gullswoop, white she-cat

Spireclaw, black and white tom

Hollowspring, black tom

Sunbeam, brown and white tabby she-cat

APPRENTICES -

Shadowpaw, gray tabby tom

Flaxpaw, brown tabby tom

Hoppaw, calico she-cat

ELDERS -

Oakfur, small brown tom

.

.

WINDCLAN

LEADER - Harestar, brown and white tom

DEPUTY - Crowfeather, dark gray tom

MEDICINE CAT -

Kestrelflight, mottled gray tom with white splotches like kestrel feathers

WARRIORS -

Nightcloud, black she-cat

Brindlewing, mottled brown she-cat

Leaftail, dark tabby tom with amber eyes

Emberfoot, gray tom with two dark paws

Smokehaze, gray she-cat

Breezepelt, black tom with amber eyes

Crouchfoot, ginger tom

Larkwing, pale brown tabby she-cat

Sedgewhisker, light brown tabby she-cat

Slightfoot, black tom with white flash on his chest

Oatclaw, pale brown tabby tom

Hootwhisker, dark gray tom

Fernstripe, gray tabby she-cat

QUEENS -

Heathertail, light brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes (mother to Breezepelt's kits: Woodkit, a brown she-kit, and Applekit, a yellow tabby she-kit)

Featherpelt, gray tabby she-cat (mother to Oatclaw's kits: Whistlekit, a gray tabby she-kit; Songkit, a tortoiseshell she-kit; and Flutterkit, a brown-and-white tom)

ELDERS -

Whiskernose, light brown tom

Gorsetail, very pale gray-and-white she-cat with blue eyes

.

.

RIVERCLAN

LEADER - Mistystar, gray she-cat with blue eyes

DEPUTY - Reedwhisker, black tom

MEDICINE CAT -

Mothwing, dappled golden she-cat

Willowshine, gray tabby she-cat

WARRIORS -

Duskfur, brown tabby she-cat

Mallownose, light brown tabby tom

Beetlewhisker, brown and white tabby tom

Podlight, gray and white tom

Shimmerpelt, silver she-cat

Lizardtail, light brown tom

Sneezecloud, gray and white tom

Brackenpelt, tortoiseshell she-cat

Jayclaw, gray tom

Owlnose, brown tabby tom

Icewing, white she-cat with blue eyes

Softpelt, gray she-cat

Gorseclaw, white tom with gray ears

Nightsky, dark gray she-cat with blue eyes

Harelight, white tom

Breezeheart, brown and white she-cat

Dappletuft, gray and white tom

QUEENS -

Curlfeather-pale brown she-cat

Havenpelt, black and white she-cat (mother to Sneezecloud's kits: Fogkit, a gray and white she-kit, and Splashkit, a brown tabby tom)

ELDERS -

Mosspelt, a tortoiseshell and white she-cat

.

.

SKYCLAN

LEADER - Leafstar, cream and brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

DEPUTY - Hawkwing, dark gray tom with yellow eyes

MEDICINE CAT -

Frecklewish, mottled light brown tabby she-cat with spotted legs

Fidgetflake, black and white tom

MEDIATOR -

Tree, yellow tom with amber eyes

WARRIORS -

Sparrowpelt- dark brown tabby tom

Macgyver-black and white tom

Dewspring-sturdy gray tom

Plumwillow-dark gray she-cat

Sagenose-pale gray tom APPRENTICE, KITEPAW

Harrybrook-gray tom

Blossomheart-ginger-and-white she-cat APPRENTICE, TURTLEPAW

Sandynose-stocky light brown tom with ginger legs

Rabbitleap-brown tom

Reedclaw-small pale tabby she-cat

Mintfur-gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Nettlesplash-pale brown tom

Tinycloud-small white she-cat

Palesky-black-and-white she-cat

Nectarsong-brown she-cat

Quailfeather-white tom with crow-black ears

Pigeonfoot-gray-and-white she-cat

Fringewhisker-white she-cat with brown splotches

Gravelnose-tan tom

Sunnypelt-ginger she-cat

APPRENTICES -

Turtlepaw, tortoiseshell she-cat

Kitepaw, reddish brown tom

QUEENS -

Violetshine, black and white she-cat with yellow eyes (mother to Rootkit, a yellow tom, and Needlekit, a black-and-white she-kit)

Bellaleaf, pale orange she-cat with green eyes (mother to Wrenkit, a golden tabby she-kit)

ELDERS -

Fallowfern, pale brown she-cat who has lost her hearing

.

.

FIRECLAN

LEADER - Sparkstar, an orange tabby she-cat

DEPUTY - Stormcloud, gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, FLIPPAW

MEDICINE CAT - Leafpool, a light brown tabby she-cat

WARRIORS -

Lionblaze, golden tabby tom with amber eyes APPRENTICE, THRIFTPAW

Cinderheart, gray tabby she-cat

Mousewhisker, a gray and white tom

Ivypool, silver and white tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes APPRENTICE, BRISTLEPAW

Molewhisker, a brown and cream tom

Minnowtail, dark gray and white she-cat

Fernsong, yellow tabby tom

Stemleaf, white and orange tom

Spotfur, spotted tabby she-cat

Twigbranch, gray she-cat with green eyes

Finleap, brown tom with orange legs

Scowl, a tricolor tabby cat

Gullheart, a ragged pale tabby tom; former rogue named Seagull

APPRENTICES -

Bristlepaw, a pale gray she-cat

Flippaw, a tabby tom

Thriftpaw, dark gray she-cat

QUEENS -

Daisy, a long-furred cream she-cat (caring for Flamekit, a black tom, and Finchkit, a tortoiseshell she-kit, for Sparkstar)

Cherryfall, ginger she-cat (has Stormcloud's kits; Duskkit, a gray tabby tom; Waspkit, a tortoiseshell tom; and Sandykit, a pale tortoiseshell kit)

Feathertuft, a white she-cat; formally known as Feather (expecting)

ELDERS -

Cloudtail, long-haired white tom with blue eyes

Brightheart, white she-cat with ginger patches

NOTES

FireClan is now public knowledge, but Sparkstar and her Clan have yet to appear at any official gatherings just yet, as she's preparing for Bramblestar's overreaction Lost Stars will have FireClan's first gathering and a confrontation between Bramblestar and Sparkstar, where she states loudly for the other Clans to hear that FireClan is its own Clan and no cat will be forced to leave it or back down

Cloudtail and Brightheart ended up moving to FireClan with Molewhisker, after Cherryfall snuck around and told her brother where to find her

Mousewhisker and Minnowtail joined the Clan and became an official couple Currently they're enjoying being allowed to be together and aren't worried about kits

Speaking of kits, no one knows who the father of Feather's unborn kits are, but she's retaining her right not to tell

Scowl is currently courting Daisy and the two seem really close, but aren't officially mates just yet, but it's clear it's heading that way. Scowl also uses them/they pronouns and chose not to take a warrior name. At least not yet, as they aren't sure they're willing to give up their old name.

Sandykit will use they/them pronouns when they're older

Finleap and Twigbranch are not mates and are just friends

Gullheart/Seagull joined between Squirrelflight's Hope and Lost Stars, being a wondering rogue who decided to settle down in a group after losing his mate and kits Right now he keeps to himself, but has a deep respect for Sparkstar

[whump-town]

Kittens

I wrote something along these lines as an idea a while ago and I finished it now in-between breaks I’ve allowed myself between an essay I have to write. I figured it’s not my best but no one gets hurt and Hotch talks to a cat for the majority of it so it’s not that bad

The creaking of the old floorboards stops Hotch from going down the hall and checking to make sure Jack is up. He stands for a moment at the mouth of the hallway, listening to Jack curse and mumble under his breath. Most of which, he can’t hear but there are dips in Jack’s voice which allow for only certain words to float their way down to him.

“Where-- that little motherfu-- he’s going to-- shit, shit, shit--”

Hotch huffs a little laugh, a chuckle that makes no more than the whisper of a breath of noise leaving his mouth. Parenting doesn’t make much sense and Hotch is certain he’s probably supposed to say something to Jack about the cursing but to his credit, Jack hasn’t spoken like that in Hotch’s presence. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite to get too frustrated over it. He cursed at sixteen and he still does. He also smoked and got into all kinds of trouble and, as far as he knows, the most Jack gets into on a Saturday night is too many energy drinks and a new book.

As curious as Hotch is about whatever it is that Jack is fussing with, Hotch has to get breakfast ready. He turns and starts to walk to the kitchen. That’s where he’s headed when he sees something small and orange bolts ahead of him. Glancing over his shoulder, in the direction it had come from, Hotch finds nothing. Just the light peeking out from behind Jack’s door.

Hmm. Odd.

Hotch continues down the hall, looking around the floor as he goes. Trying to see what it was and where it went. Until he gets to the kitchen. “Oh,” Hotch raises an eyebrow at the kitten he finds sniffing the floor near the oven. A tiny orange kitten. He picks it up, observing it as he turns it around to inspect the tiny thing.

It looks up and him and gives a little irritated meow.

“You must be motherfucker,” Hotch says, rubbing a finger over its head. “I think Jack is looking for you.” Hotch smiles as the kitten purs, pushing its head under his finger for more. He indulges it and, he has to admit, the thing is cute. He doesn’t mind it. “Are you hungry?”

He goes to the fridge and inspects the findings… slim pickings. “Cats are lactose intolerant, right?” He looks down as the kitten squirms his arms. Rolling over it attacks his fingers but cradled to his chest it’s safe. “I don’t know anything about cats.” He’s never had any pets. Haley had an old dog named Bailey when they first got together. A border collie her father bought for her birthday years before from a farmer in town.

Growing up in the country he’d seen plenty of stray cats and dogs but he’d never had his own. There was a porch cat he used to feed bread to but his father scared it off and kicked it once. Hotch had looked so much like his father that the cat wouldn’t come to him anymore after that incident. That was probably for the best.

“Here,” Hotch finally settles. He pulls the almond milk out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. He adds the container of blueberries beside it. “I’m having oatmeal but I reckon you can probably have almond milk, right?” With a frown, he makes a mental note to ask Emily or Garcia about that. One of them is bound to know. For now, a little almond milk is probably fine. It doesn’t have milk in it but he wants to be certain.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, he hums and reaches over for the measuring cups. He’s been making oatmeal for years so he’s mastered the eyeballing it technique. However, the half-cup measuring cup is the perfect size for him to use as a bowl for the kitten.

“Has Jack got you any food?” he asks placing the kitten on the counter. He pours a little almond milk in the half-cup and smirks when the kitten takes to it immediately. “Well… you probably wouldn’t drink that if it wasn’t good for you, right?” Probably… well, maybe.

This feels exactly like when they brought Jack home. He and Haley had been terrified of every little thing. They were constantly calling someone about something. He can easily call Emily or Garcia but… he’s an adult, he can handle a kitten.

“Stay,” he orders stepping away from the counter to grab a pan. The kitten doesn’t move just stands contently where it is drinking the almond milk. Hotch gets the oatmeal going, keeping an eye on the kitten out of the corner of his eye. “You’re hungry,” he notes, with a tilt of his head. And when it looks up at him, almond milk all over its face, there’s no way he can deny how cute it is.

His oatmeal doesn’t take that long to make and distracted with watching the kitten it’s a nice easy pace. Bowl of oatmeal in his palm, angry kitten trying to escape from where it’s tucked between his chest and forearm, and the little cup of almond milk pinched between his fingers he sits down at the kitchen table. “What has he named you?” Hotch asks, settling it all down on the table. It occurs to him it could be a little strange to let the cat on the table but it is a cat so if it sticks around he assumes there will be lots of table sitting.

Hotch can’t remember what book Jack was reading last week-- which is chronologically his best guess at when his little friend here made its way into the house. With hindsight, he can recall Jack having been just a little more distant with him, secretive. Jack is also significant with his decisions so maybe Hotch should think more along the lines of Jack’s favorite books, not his most recent reads. Then again maybe Jack hasn’t named the cat or he chose something out of a song or a movie.

Looking up as he hears Jack’s door creak open, he scowls back down at his lap. The kitten having stretched up at his chest and bats at one of the buttons on his shirt. He taps its little paw warningly, just enough to jar it a little, and judging from the look he receives this little warning tapis nothing something it was expecting.

“Hey, dad.”

Hotch looks up and hums back, nothing unusual because he certainly isn’t going to give up the advantage he has right now. His son is a snarky little shit -- purely Emily’s doing -- and Hotch rarely gets moments where he comes out ahead of whatever jokes Jack (or Emily) can make at his expense.

Jack comes around and nods his head, timidly going about making himself some cereal. Hotch doesn’t comment on his son’s socks -- one is teal with bright, highlighters yellow bananas and the other is beige with pink polka dots. Hotch had given up on Jack and socks. Jack gets a little thrill out of this rebellion and Hotch should just be happy that it’s not worse.

The two of them really have nothing in common. Jack loves science and math (Hotch has to use a calculator for simple multiplication). Hotch prefers for each of his books to look like they have never even been read (Jack has so many sticky notes in his copy that Fahrenheit 451 that it looks silly). Jack refuses to carry around a planner and writes everything down on the back of his hand (Hotch has multiple planners and color codes things in delicate details).

“Oh.” Jack turns with his cereal in his hands and sees the kitten in his father’s lap. That bright orange over his black dress pants. Jack knew his father wouldn’t be mad -- he can count on one hand the number of times he has seen Hotch angry. Though, he knows what he’s done wasn’t the right course to take. He’s not so sure what to do now, he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

Hotch hums again, nodding his head.

Jack looks down at the floor and timidly takes his seat across from his father at the table. Tucking his legs underneath himself to avoid hitting Hotch’s much longer stretched-out legs. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about hitting his dad’s legs but today he’s sensing he should probably consider his actions a little more. “Am in trouble?”

Hotch raises an eyebrow and looks away from the kitten to his Jack. He’s looking down at his cereal, playing with it so he can avoid looking at Hotch. Jack’s never really been in trouble. Hotch is a little too lenient at times but even Jessica is pretty bad for that. Even so, Jack has turned out pretty okay, he’s still a kid (16 isn’t that grown, despite that being the age Hotch’s father kicked him out at -- well sent him to boarding school but that was only after he spent a month couch surfing and sleeping in a shitty tent he stole).

“No.” It’s a cat and he’s not mad and Hotch doesn’t see just yet where he could make this a learning opportunity so… he’s not going to make it a big deal. It’s hard, in situations like these, to know where normal discipline comes into play. His own father would have beat him senseless or locked him out of the house for a week, maybe longer.

“Oh.”

Hotch frowns, “do you think you should be?” He doesn’t mean it to bait Jack, he means it honestly. There isn’t a right answer.

Jack shrugs, “I mean, I don’t know.” Jack is aware that his father isn’t like most dads but they’re in a unique situation, the two of them. “You should probably lecture me about something, right? I mean, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in any more cats but that’s not as a result of any lecture. I certainly wouldn’t do it with a dog.”

So maybe not a lesson learned but still sounds like there’s no point acknowledged. “Okay,” Hotch reasons. It sounds fair. “Well, next time we talk this sort of thing over, okay? I respect you and your decisions and so I ask for your opinions on things, right? I need you to respect my opinions.”

Jack nods.

“So, any names?”

[rjalker]

[ID: Six pronoun sets against a black background, with each word in the set separated by a white forward slash, and each word color-coded from left to right: red, orange, yellow, and green, showing which word in each set mirrors the others.

The pronouns listed are:

“he/him/his/himself”

“ze/zem/zel/zemself”

“ith/kir/kirs/kirself”

“rak/sura/suras/suraself”

and

“xey/xem/xeir/xemself:

End ID.]

A visual aid on how to use neopronouns.

For this example:

 He, Ze, Ith, Rak, and Xey are all used in the same way.

“He is over there.” “Ze is waiting in line.” “Rak is coming over.” “Xey is my friend.”

Him, Zem, Hir, Kir, Sura, and Xem are used in the same way.

“That’s him over there.” “I gave zem my chair.” “Did you meet hir yet?” “I met kir at the party.” “Can you pass sura this note?” “Here, give this to xem.”

His, Zel, hirs, kirs, suras, and Xeir are all used in the same way.

“That’s his sibling.” “We’re going to zel house.” “I saw some of hirs paintings earlier.” “That’s kirs dog.” “Suras cat is really cute.” “I’m xeir friend.”

and himself, zemself, hirself, suraself, kirself, and xemself are all used in the same way.

When someone writes out their pronouns with slashes or commas between them, they’re almost always in this pattern, so once you get used to how it works, figuring out where to use what word will become much easier!

You can check out @choose-your-own-pronouns for templates that you can use to practice or test pronouns you’re not familiar with!