#while never severe (we were housed and clothed and fed and by all accounts fine)

[soldier-poet-king]

Actually the whole work thing would be infinitely less stressful if I actually knew how to navigate the white collar world and was not from a working class background and I have no idea how anything works because we were poor! No one in my family has done shit like this!

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, Yours (1)

(gif not mine) - fluff Baek ㅠ

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

AU: professor Baekhyun, domestic AU, family AU, triplet craze AU

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: none

This is a sequel to Simply, Yours! You do not need to read it first, but it will give you better understanding of the situation in the story.

Enjoy!

Masterlist / story masterlist

Next -->

<3 <3 <3

“Ta-da!” Sukyeong held out two coupons in front of your face, her excited smile not dazzling enough for you to mimic it. “Let's start working out!”

You were unsure right away for many reasons. First one was the squirming infants on you and on her. Juna was the eldest triplet but she had nothing on the middle one, Junhee, who was currently tapping away on the play mat made out of pastel coloured puzzles in front of the big couch in the spacious living room. Jun was the only boy triplet and the youngest. He was peacefully sitting on your lap, your palms flat on his cute baby tummy while he was looking up at Sukyeong with huge eyes that, the more he grew, the more they resembled his father's. The issue was, where would you put your munchkins while you'd be working out?

Second one was more personal and one that you felt guilty for thinking about, but you couldn't help it. Would you have enough energy to go through sixty minutes of work-out? You were still breastfeeding and pumping, by now completely accustomed to it. It made up a huge part of your day; if you didn't have the infants pressed to your breast, it was the pump attached to you, hidden under your shirt while you were running around the house, trying to get chores done while the babies would nap. Being exhausted was a given, but squeezing in more exhaustion? Doubtful.

Third one was the one that always gave you a slight headache. Travelling through busy Seoul was difficult to do by yourself with triplets. Despite living in a very good apartment at the moment, which was a kind present from the government as a thank you gift for bringing triplets to the aging society, it didn't mean your financial issues disappeared with it. Keeping up the apartment was a huge responsibility; the energies, the water, the common fees, lots of management with the apartments' committee that your husband became part of - it all required money and the lottery ticket you received and made you a billionaire quickly dispersed in your bank account. Another issue were the triplets themselves. Keeping up with them, buying diapers, clothes that they seemed to outgrow in a speed of light - it all required lots of income but there was only one source - Baekhyun, your husband.

As much as you always told him you would find a job to keep the financial stability, you could hardly find a time to sit down and go through job offers, let alone actually prepare for an interview. You knew many companies would refuse you if you as much as mentioned you were a mother.

“Oh, no, I can practically see the turning gears in your brain, mumma friend,” groaned Sukyeong and leaned in to press a loud kiss to Jun's face which in turn made him surprised. That surprise quickly morphed into a huge, toothless grin and you were fast to follow him, too. Jun was the weakest of the triplets and was prone to get more sick. He had a terrible season of harsh refluxes which made you and Baekhyun extremely worried and unhappy. Jun wouldn't be able to accept your milk, vomiting it out right after swallowing. His smiling face meant more to you than anything else in that moment.

“Auntie Sukyeong is being silly, hmm,” you cooed lovingly and you also leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He had dark baby hair growing, and it always made you realize just how fragile these babies were. “I don't know Sukyeong,” you finally answered her. “I would love to work on my body and gain back my old one but I just can't see it happening.”

She quickly held up her hand. “Before you get into all the details - they have a little baby corner where you can leave the munchkins while we work out! And-and I would come with you! We have a car with Chen, so I'd pick you up and then we don't have to worry about travelling in an over-packed bus.”

You pursed your lips, thinking. “What time is the training?”

“I think it starts at seven in the evening!” she exclaimed and quickly took out her phone to search. “It's lots of cardio and core strengthening so it's very beneficial for you!”

“Hmm, I would have to discuss with Baekhyun,” you murmured. “He comes home late these days but I just want to know his opinion.”

“Make sure you don't get squeezed down by your hubby,” Sukyeong noted and leaned down again to look at Jun. “I know you guys are basically inseparable but he's been working so much since he became a professor. Make sure you don't become second to him over his work.”

“Well, he is the youngest ever, so I understand he wants to try his best.” You wanted to question her words - Baekhyun never prioritized his work over you or your children. He was just about to be thirty and you were just in the middle of your twenties, you didn't think you would reach that kind of crisis in your relationship yet.

“Yeah, but he doesn't have to do the hapkido training in the evening, yet he decided to do it,” she reminded gently, and touched Jun's cheek, “so you can do just the same, right? You are always with the babies and spend lots of time by yourself. You deserve to have a little time dedicated to you and, of course, me!”

You smiled but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Sukyeong wasn't wrong but you knew Baekhyun was only trying to start off his professor career as good as he could. He upped his game as a cool professor by always wearing outstanding suits - dark red, striped, the list went on. He looked very, very handsome and it sometimes even pained you to let him go to school like that. He told you it was to make sure people remembered him in the department and for his students to think he was cool; a trust-worthy professor to whom they could always turn to; a cool professor with whom they could have a good workout session in the evening and try to defeat him in hapkido. It was all great, but his work brought you back a tired husband.

“Maybe you're right. I will talk to him tonight. When do the classes start?”

“Next week! Tuesday and Thursday! I think it's the perfect timing!”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. Your best friend could always make you giggle when you needed it. “I'll talk to him and let you know, hm?” Just as you finished the sentence, you jumped to your feet, trying to prevent Junhee from climbing over the small coffee table. “Aren't you a little wild girl? You must be after your father,” you breathed and Sukyeong laughed.

<3

Baekhyun returned to a quiet apartment that evening. It was past eight and it meant triplets must have been asleep by then. He felt guilty right away, because he missed their bedtime. It wasn't like it was set - they woke up enough times during the night for Baekhyun to be by their side, but he still wanted to be part of the evening routine like bathing them, being next to you when you fed them, changing their nappies and their clothes. It was all the little things, but he was missing out on them.

You were lying on the couch, your eyes closed, your arm over your eyes to block the light out.

He crouched next to you, taking your hand in his. “Honey, I'm home,” he murmured gently, watching you remove your arm and smiling down at him tiredly.

“Hey, baby. Let me heat up the dinner,” you said, sitting up right away, but Baekhyun stopped you from standing up.

“Sorry I came home late again,” he said guiltitly. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it a few times while looking intently into your eyes.

“It's fine,” you sighed and cradled his cheek. He leaned into the touch and eventually pulled on your hand to move closer to him, which you did. He met you half-way, pressing his lips to yours. He prolonged the kiss by puckering his lips several times, making little kissy noises that made you pull away and smile widely. Baekhyun immediately grinned.

“How was your day, princess? You look very tired,” he noted, slight worry etched in his features.

You shook your head and pressed another kiss to his lips. “The usual, you know it. Sukyeong was over and we talked,” you told him, and you wanted to bring up the topic of you attending workout classes when he said:

“Good, good, I’m glad she kept you company. I am in charge of some doctoral students now, so I need to lecture them over the summer break, but otherwise I made it clear that I want a full summer holiday so I can be with you more,” he informed you and nuzzled your nose.

You sighed in content. “Do whatever you think is the best, Baekhyun,” you whispered, your breath hitting his lips. Your hand reached out and tucked on his tie. “I just want you to enjoy your work.”

“I know you do but you and the babies always come first. Always,” he emphasized and this time brought both of his hands up to your cheeks and kissed you again, more eagerly. “I missed you,” he murmured and dived back in, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Humming in pleasure, you shimmied yourself closer to the edge of the sofa so that Baekhyun was crouching between your legs, your hand untying his tie. “I always miss you,” you murmured between the kisses.

He kissed you one last time and smiled. “I don’t want dinner. Let’s just cuddle, hm?” He flickered his eyes up to yours, his thumb running over your cheek. “I had a light dinner in school anyway.”

You nodded. You felt like your body weighed another twenty kilograms so you didn’t take much to convince.

After all, finishing the day a little earlier with Baekhyun by your side in the bed was always the best way to wind off. You found yourself in his embrace under the sheets, his black shirt hiked up as your arm rested around his middle.

He smooched your temple. “Was Jun okay today?” he asked quietly into the darkness of the room.

Baekhyun had texted you many times during the day to double check on his son but he still had to ask to make sure nothing happened in the short time he wasn't in touch with you.

You looked up at him. “He was okay, thank god. I hope that reflux is finally over.”

“I hope so too,” he sighed and kissed you again. “It’s so heartbreaking to know he is struggling to receive food.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you pouted against it. Everything about babies was scary. Both of you got used to them and to the crazy lifestyle but anything that would go wrong would throw you off the boat. Jun always needed special attention. “It will be all fine, right?” you murmured against his skin and as a reply, he tightened his embrace around you.

“It must be. Jun is a healthy and sturdy boy just like me, hm?” he joked.

You breathed a small laugh. “Yes, you're absolutely right.” Pushing yourself up, Baekhyun's arm loosened and he looked at you with questioning eyes when you faced him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you - Sukyeong has a coupon for these workout classes. They start next week at 7pm. I'd be away on Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours. Would you mind if I go for it with her?”

Baekhyun's eyes kept flickering to your lips as you spoke and you felt your heart swell whenever he looked at you like that. He finally met your eyes and brought his hand up to brush your hair out of your face. “You should totally do it if you feel like it, sweetheart. It's your body and I know you don't get to move around much when you're at home a lot. What kind of workout is it?”

You pulled a thinking face. “She mentioned core strengthening and cardio.”

“That's very good. You should definitely work on those to keep your body strong,” he advised in a gentle tone. “But just know that if it will be too hard, you don't have to keep doing it, alright? Your body is perfect and as long as you're healthy, nothing else matters.”

Baekhyun always made sure to provide reassurance even when you didn't ask for it. You smiled widely and leaned in, hugging him. You were literally splattered all over him and he brought his leg over yours to accomodate you better. “Thank you.”

He hummed and kept playing with your hair that managed to grow quite a lot in the meantime. Even though it was falling out like crazy after giving birth and your hair brush gave you a heart attack whenever you made a single swipe with it, you didn't pay it much attention. Being so busy with the kids, you hardly took notice of how you actually looked.

“What about the munchkins? I'll try to make sure I'll be home early but if I can't make it where will you put them?” he asked again.

“Sukyeong said there is a baby corner where mothers can put their kids for the time being.”

“Is it three-month-old-baby safe though?”

“I will try to contact them to double-check, alright?”

He hummed again in reply.

“You trust me with them, right?”

His hand stopped brushing your hair. “What kind of question is that? Of course I trust you with them, baby,” he replied quickly. “You're their mother. If there is anyone who knows them well, it's you.” He paused and you snuggled yourself even closer, making Baekhyun chuckle. “But you know what?” He leaned into your ear. “You'll always be my baby. My little lady.”

His breath tickled you on the ear and you laughed, even his words tickling your heart. He laughed along and he rolled you over so that he was on top. He started dropping sweet butterfly kisses all over your face and you scrunched your eyes close, emotions of love, joy, contentment making you feel like a millionaire thanks to your husband.

“You don't have anything to reply to oppa?” teased Baekhyun and smooched you under your ear. “Tell oppa you love him.” Another kiss on your neck. “Tell oppa he is the best.”

You kept giggling. “Baekhyun c'mon! Stop!”

“Not until you say what I want to hear,” he refused with a cheeky smile, kissing your lips loudly.

You gasped when you felt his hand under your shirt, tickling you on your side. You squirmed under him, trying to suppress the laughter that was making your muscles hurt. He was being a big tease and you knew he wouldn't stop until he had it his way.

“Oppa, I love you,” you told him through laughter and he stopped tickling you right away, suddenly very attentive to your words, “oppa, you are the best,” you said breathlessly, reciprocating the eye contact. “I'm oppa's baby,” you added and felt your cheeks heat up.

Baekhyun observed you with a smile. “That's right,” he murmured eventually and leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “You're oppa's baby girl,” he said in a low tone, his lips moving against yours. He captured your lower lip in a slow, sensual manner that had your insides ignite with passion. You closed your eyes and followed his lead, his kiss purely there for the sake of showing you love rather than leading to something more.

It was only nine in the evening, but it was by far the nicest time you had in a while; your triplets sleeping, your husband home and only yours until work would steal him away from you, and he did his best to make you feel loved, appreciated, beautiful and wanted.

<3

Morning came much earlier for you. Junhee was up at three which you found quite good since they slept ever since you put them to sleep the night before and therefore enabling you and Baekyhun to have some alone time. 

Quickly grabbing the intercom so that Baekhyun wouldn't wake, you went to their room, the three baby cribs and a small dimmed light welcoming you. Junhee was crying, rolling in her place which was her new favourite pastime to do since she learned how to keep her back up and straight.

“Shh, shh, sweetie, don't cry.” You took her in your hands and rocked her in your arms while you checked the remaining two infants. Jun was wide awake, his eyes looking back at you with interest which you found funny, because he didn't make a single peep, while Juna was about to follow her younger sister, her small face already scrunching up at the sight of you.

Just when you were about to reach for her while you were balancing Junhee in your other arm, you felt a pair of familiar ones on your waist, stopping you. “Let me,” Baekhyun rasped into your ear, sleepily kissing your cheek. He walked up to Juna and brought her out of her crib, the baby looking tiny on his broad chest. She started to wail just in time, and you and Baekhyun exchanged looks that spoke volumes - you would be up for a while.

There was a small corner in their room with two rocking chairs that Baekhyun insisted on buying for feeding time. While you sat down in one, Baekhyun went out to heat up some breast milk you pumped earlier, so that Juna could feed.

You adjusted your shirt and within seconds Junhee attached her tiny mouth to your breast, her eyes closing in delight as she sucked on your milk. Smiling, you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes too, sleep quickly chasing you down.

Baekhyun appeared next to you with a bottle that contained the heated up milk and had Juna eat. Just like Junhee, Juna closed her eyes as she diligently drank, making Baekhyun's features soften with affection. He had her lying on his thighs, her tiny feet resting against his stomach while he held up the bottle for her. Occasionally, her small hand would tap against Baekhyun's long fingers which you found endearing. His index finger was bigger than her whole hand. “Jun doesn't seem to be hungry,” he commented quietly as he looked at Junhee in your arms. “Did he eat last night?”

“Yeah, he ate well,” you replied in a low voice. “I think he just isn't a crybaby,” you said with a chuckle. “These two sisters keep pushing him aside all the time.”

Baekhyun looked down at Juna. “Well, they better not. You will have to take care of your younger siblings, miss Byun Juna,” he told his daughter in a cooing voice. “So you better be a good older sister.”

You shook your head at his words and he laughed, sending you a wink. “You should go and rest, babe,” you told him after a while, “you have to get up early.”

“I'm not leaving all the work to you. We are in this together, right?” he said just as he always did. That was his iconic sentence that always made you effectively shut up. He was right, and you shouldn't have been taking away his father duties, but you knew he had a lot of work. Eventually, he would be nearing his limit and you didn't want that.

“That's more like it,” Baekhyun commented when you didn't reply.

You only managed to smile, closing your eyes again. Despite getting used to this lifestyle, it still made you feel uncomfortable how the babies would bite down on your nipple or the small cramps you'd get in your abdomen while feeding. Also-

Wetness was what made you open your eyes to look at the unoccupied breast. Before you could say something, Baekhyun spoke up: “Should I bring Jun? Or the pump?” His worried eyes were looking at the leaking milk, your shirt quickly becoming drenched.

You sighed, feeling helpless. If some mothers weren't able to produce milk, you were the exact opposite. There were times where you had to let out milk even though you already fed, even though you already had enough milk in storage for later. It kept pouring out of you and you didn't have other choice but to release it. The entire family could easily feed off of you at that rate. 

It would have been okay, but the pain of dried up milk in your breasts was something you were scared of, so making sure you could let the milk flow was important.

“Can you please bring me the pump?” you told your husband absent-mindedly and Baekhyun was fast to cooperate while keeping Juna in his arms so she wouldn't be disturbed.

And just like that, you stayed up till early morning until the triplets fell back asleep - you waited for Jun to be hungry, and finally lied down when Baekhyun was getting ready for work. He even made sure the babies' nappies were fresh.

With swollen eyes, you watched as he dressed into one of his striped suits, looking like a Burberry model. He turned to look at you as he buttoned up his white shirt, his hair smoothed back, revealing his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked you gently, walking over to your side.

You smiled. “I'm good, don't worry, babe. Your lunch box is in the fridge, don't forget it.”

“You didn't have to prepare it,” he clicked his tongue, “just make sure you eat your food, alright, sweetheart?”

Nodding, you sighed and Baekhyun turned to put on his cardigan. “I'll be off. I'll try to come home early, hm?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, bewitched at the sight of him. “Kiss me before you go, handsome professor Byun.”

He gave a half-smile and walked over to you, leaning down so his face was hovering above yours. “Of course I would kiss you before I go. I can't leave my precious princess without a kiss,” he whispered, making you smile amorously. He pressed a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making sure to prolong it. “Rest, okay?”

You nodded. “Another one,” you demanded and Baekhyun laughed, though complied. “Mm, I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he sighed and pecked your forehead as a final kiss. “Text me, hm? I'll go say bye to the munchkins, too. Gotta go now,” he straightened up and gave you a smile before turning and leaving the bedroom.

You heard him shuffle around the apartment before he left for his long day at work.

Deciding to sleep until the babies would need you, you turned around and nuzzled your face into Baekhyun’s pillow, his gentle scent mixed with faint baby detergent pulling you into a fluffy cloud of dreams. That was Baekhyun to you.

<3

A/N: Hi, welcome back to the first chapter. It will slowly all start to roll, but if you read Simply Yours, it is anything but drama after drama. Expect a similar concept too, hope you enjoyed the FAMILY in this chapter!

Thanks for reading!

Please try to comment! I appreacite likes, but a word or two never hurt! ^^

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Kait!

You have been accepted for the role of ANNALISE FAWLEY! We loved your thoughts on the very Hufflepuff nature of Annalise’s loyalty-fueled treachery and all the details you gave of her “normal” life before she lost her sister, and can’t wait to see all the trouble she’s going to cause for the Order. We’re so excited to have you join us!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Kait, she/hers

AGE: 25+

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m returning to in-person work after 3+ months of WFH, so I can’t say with absolute certainty what my activity will be, but I’ll definitely be able to post every couple of days at least!

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers. I have a bit of rp experience, in a similarly character-focused, literate marauders rp.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Annalise Fawley

AGE: 23

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: female, she/hers, identifies as straight

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

ANY CHANGES: Nope!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Everyone knows Annalise—she’s one of the many Fawley cousins, a cheerful former Hufflepuff, a familiar face at pureblood soirees. But not all that many people really know her. Very few know that she’s good at sketching but definitely can’t paint. Or that she’s an excellent liar, even if she almost never uses that skill. That she often feels shy when she has to meet new people. That she doesn’t have a temper, but she does hold grudges like nobody’s business.

A relatively private person, Annalise has always been content to live a simple life, compared to many other pureblood women. She’s happy with her flat and her job and her friends. She adores her sprawling family— anywhere she turns, she can find a familiar face. And she delights in the social whirl of pureblood society— the beautiful dresses and jewels, the gossip, the parties. The fact that she’s never at the centre of that whirlwind is perfectly fine with her.

A sociable extrovert with a touch of shyness, Annalise craves interaction but isn’t always great at making new acquaintances, and her shyness can sometimes make her seem standoffish to strangers. She’s certainly capable of saying the right things—her mother raised her well and she can handle whatever social situations she needs to—you can’t survive long in pureblood society if you don’t know how to hide your thoughts and say the right words. But Annalise has always been most comfortable around people she knows well. And there’s no one closer or more important than family.

While at Hogwarts, Annalise had been sorted into Hufflepuff house, and it had been an absolutely perfect fit. She has always been patient and hard-working; though far from a prodigy in any of her classes, she managed to earn consistently good grades simply by putting the time and the work in applying herself. This has continued into her adult life. Not coming from money, she has worked since finishing school, and even though she’s jumped jobs a few times as she tries to figure out what she wants to do, she’s never had a bad word from an employer.

And of course, loyalty. The Fawleys as a whole tended to value loyalty, especially to family, and Anna was no exception. She never snitched on her sister for stealing a cookie when they were little, never dated a friend’s ex, and she’s always said that she would kill for her family. It had been meant as a figure of speech… but, well…

These traits are the sort that normally define people from her house as cut-and-dry good; there’s a reason Hufflepuff boasts the fewest dark witches and wizards of any house, after all. But after Leina’s death, every one of those values honed in on finding justice for her sister. Annalise has always believed that those in the wrong should be punished, and since she obviously can’t rely on the Ministry to avenge her sister’s death, there was only one choice: become a Death Eater, and make those responsible pay.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Annalise Fawley was the younger of two daughters. Or, she is the younger. She’s not quite sure. Are you still a younger sister, if the elder has died?

Leina Nott, nee Fawley, had been a year older than Annalise, but when they were small they’d always claimed they were twins. Though there was a difference in height, they had looked similar enough that a stranger probably would have believed them. But more than in appearance, they were as close as twins. The age difference was near enough that Leina didn’t remember a time when Anna hadn’t been around, and when they weren’t visiting the many Fawley cousins scattered around the country, they mainly had each other for company.

The sisters grew apart somewhat as they grew older; Leina having had a year’s head start at Hogwarts, and Annalise being sorted into a different house, meant they didn’t spend quite as much time together as they once had. But they were still close, even if they disagreed at times. Not very long after finishing Hogwarts, Leina became engaged to Josiah Nott. Annalise never quite understood her sister’s decision to marry him; yes, he was wealthy and well-connected, but he wasn’t exactly likeable—not to mention he was so much older than them! But Leina seemed happy enough, and even more so after her son Theodore was born.

The match had been quite a coup for Leina; though the Fawleys were a perfectly respectable family, part of the Sacred 28, and automatic invitees to all the best parties, they weren’t from money. Their branch of the Fawley family tree was one of the less important ones—Annalise’s father Alistair had been the younger son of a younger son several times over, so they’d never had the opulent wealth of many of their peers. But they’d never quite lived in poverty, either. The one thing that the Fawleys were rich in was connections, and through a combination of Hufflepuff work ethic and a touch of nepotism, Alistair worked his way to a high-ranking position at the Ministry, and was able to keep his family comfortably sheltered and clothed and fed. He always made it clear to his daughters that there was nothing shameful about hard work, and he lived that example as he climbed through the ranks.

Annalise’s mother, Calliope, left her own job at the Ministry once her husband began to advance and their daughters were born. She needed the time when she was raising two children—the Fawleys were never quite in a position where they could afford help. These days, though, she has an awful lot of time on her hands. Enough time to have absolutely devoted herself to arranging Leina’s marriage and planning her wedding, and more recently, fussing over her grandson, and pushing prospective husbands in the direction of her younger daughter.

Leina’s murder hit the whole family hard. Family was everything to the Fawleys, and with her death, their family was broken. Alistair has thrown himself into his work, while Calliope has been focusing all her attention on caring for Leina’s child, Theo (and though she’d never say so much to her mother, Annalise hopes it stays that way; she does not have time right now to fend off her mother’s matchmaking.)

Annalise, of course, has been busy. After the initial shock, it wasn’t sadness threatening to overwhelm her; it was anger. These people, these self-proclaimed do-gooders, they’d broken into Leina’s own home and murdered her. Because she’d been in the way. They’d taken her sister’s life and shattered her family, and she was going to make them pay. She was going to burn the Order of the Phoenix to the ground for what they’d done.

OCCUPATION:

For the Fawley girls, there were two options: earn a living, or marry money. Though her parents certainly expect her to marry a pureblood wizard sooner rather than later, they haven’t pressured Annalise too much about this; Leina had made such a good match, after all, that it bought her some leeway. She certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying well, but she also wanted to actually like the person she married.

So, while her sister opted to marry up, Annalise chose the employment option. She was her father’s daughter, after all, and she was not afraid of hard work. After finishing Hogwarts, she moved through several different jobs, helped here and there by a recommendation from a Fawley relative. She was an assistant for a while, spent a bit of time in the Ministry, and passed one very unpleasant summer waiting tables.

For the past year or so, she’s worked at Twilfitt and Tattings in Diagon Alley. It’s a perfect job: decent wages and commissions, hours that don’t conflict with her social life, and a generous discount on robes (a very useful perk when you don’t have a bottomless Gringotts vault to spend on new dress robes for every party). When she first started, she mostly just worked the cash register, but she’s picked up more responsibilities over time, and has recently started design work as well.

Working in a high-end boutique means that she has very steady contact with all the well-to-do of the wizarding world. As she pointed out when she approached the Order—who knew what sort of conversations she might overhear? And, of course, the revolving parade of customers will make it easy for her to smuggle information back to the Dark Lord, too.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Annalise is filled with grief for her poor sister’s untimely death. She knows that her brother-in-law is almost certainly a Death Eater, and he put Leina in danger by conducting Death Eater business in their home—and now her nephew is left without a mother. She’s determined to help the Order stop the carnage before anyone else can be hurt in the crossfire. And, with her pureblood connections and her job in one of the most upscale stores in Diagon Alley, she is a definite asset to the Order.

As far as the Order is concerned, that is.

Annalise is a wolf in sheep’s clothing—and she makes a very convincing sheep. Wide green eyes filled with tears, insisting that it was that bastard Josiah’s fault that Leina died—that she wanted to help end the war before any other innocent lives were lost. There’s a chance some people might be suspicious, but she is pretty certain most people couldn’t fail to be convinced. Especially when it’s mostly true. She did blame Josiah, for putting her sister in danger in the first place, for not being more careful, for not protecting her. And she did want the war over before anyone else she cared about was murdered. The part she didn’t add was that it was the Order, not the Death Eaters, that she was determined to stop at any cost.

As far as Annalise is concerned, it’s not even that risky a plan. Certainly these cowards are capable of murder—her sister’s grave is testament to that. But she is confident in her ability to convince the Order her intentions are good. She’s always been an excellent liar, after all, able to think quickly on her feet. Yes, she will be the perfect spy, and by the time she’s finished with them, every single one of these courageous and honourable cowards will be dead.

Though her grief and anger are driving her to waste no time in burning the Order to the ground, Annalise has always been a patient woman, and her anger has always been the sort that burns cold and slow. She’s playing a long game, and she can’t get caught before she has found a way to destroy every single one of these people. The Dark Lord doesn’t expect daily intel, or trivial hints about the Order’s day-to-day operations—certainly she is to pass on what information she can without getting caught, but her focus is on rising through the ranks until she can learn valuable information. The type of information that will bring this entire organization to its knees.

SURVIVAL:

So far? She’s survived by not being involved. But her sister wasn’t involved, either, and now she’s dead.

The Order isn’t as ruthless as the Dark Lord and his followers, but Annalise is still going to have to tread very carefully. They clearly are willing to kill, after all. She can’t pass over information that might expose her as a spy—only things that most people in the Order know, or information that she comes across by snooping, that can’t be traced to her. But letting the Dark Lord down could be dangerous, too.

Everything about her position is dangerous; quite aside from the risk of discovery, she could be killed by a Death Eater as easily as anyone else in the Order, since only a handful know she is one of them. And if the worst happens and she’s found out, there’s no telling how much help will come. Though Annalise would never have described herself as a reckless person before, she probably wouldn’t have said that she was overly cautious, either—but she’s going to have to be, now.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Family is the most important relationship, as far as Annalise is concerned. Her parents have both been devastated by Leina’s death, but like Anna, neither are wallowing in it. Her father, always one to lean on the side of emotional unavailability, has retreated into his work, while her mother is devoting herself to caring for her motherless grandson. The three of them don’t really talk to each other anymore—her family has been shattered.

After an initial retreat from public life to mourn her sister and plan her revenge, Annalise has returned to socializing and attending parties. Though most of her thoughts and energy are now devoted to destroying her sister’s killers, the social scene is a good distraction at times when she just can’t take it. An extrovert who is prone to shyness, she’s rarely had close friends outside of her family, so the friendships she’s maintaining are relatively shallow—but it’s easier that way.

Joining the Order gave her a few shocks—in terms of how many people she recognized. The number of purebloods from good families is astonishing. Vanity, Greengrass, Selwyn and Macmillan—these are names she knows, faces she’s seen at parties. The Yaxleys—she knows they are Death Eaters, so what in hell is Branwen doing here? Could she be on the same page as Annalise, or has she actually fallen for the Order’s bullshit?

And the McKinnons—they might not have been quite high society, but she’s still surprised to learn of their involvement. The fact that Marlene is using her family’s house for the Order—that she has werewolves camped right outside—does she not see that she’s putting her family in danger? It’s so selfish! And Alaric—she’d known him at school, they’d been in the same house, and she knew her parents had tried to arrange a match between them. She probably dodged a bludger, there. Learning that he was working with the Order was disappointing—but at least he’s not actually one of them.

Frank Longbottom is a distant cousin, and it’s dreadful to know that there is family here. Does he just not care that they killed Leina? But she’s willing to use that connection to her advantage. After all, the entire extended family shares one value in common: family is important. So of course he’ll look out for her.

She doesn’t recognize Peter Pettigrew or Severus Snape. The names are vaguely familiar, since they were only a few years below her at school, but they’re not even a blip on her radar. The fact that the Dark Lord has other spies in the Order is not known to her—and she certainly wouldn’t have picked Pettigrew as one of them.

At present, she doesn’t know that Lily Evans was the person responsible for her sister’s death. If that fact is revealed to her, it’s going to take all her self-control and willpower to keep her cover and not avenge her sister on the spot.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: No ships in particular, just chemistry. Honestly, Annalise growing close to anyone in the Order (romantically or platonically) would be fascinating, since she’s only there to see them all dead!

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Annalise did not come from money, but her family was never poor, either. She is a woman in a patriarchal society, but she is a woman from a well-connected and respectable family. Her bloodline is pure, going back at least a dozen generations. Annalise’s position is unquestionably one of privilege—not extreme luxury and decadence perhaps, but certainly privileged enough that she’s been able to opt out of caring about the war until now. She is aware of her privilege to some degree—knows the value of her connections and status—but she doesn’t really think about it.

While she’s dimly aware of her privilege, she has no concept at all of her biases. She really would consider herself among the more progressive of purebloods. She works for a living, after all, and while she’s never been moved to fight for Muggleborns rights, she’s never actively fought against them either. It’s not like she supports the Dark Lord’s ideology, after all. And while she certainly thinks that any sort of contact with the Muggle world is to be entirely avoided, she’s never felt the urge to go around murdering them for fun.

Certainly she looks down somewhat on Muggleborns, and half-bloods to a lesser extent, but that’s not a bias—it’s just a fact that purebloods are superior. It’s nothing personal! She had plenty of half-blood friends in Hufflepuff, after all. It’s just the way it is. Sure, there are some half-bloods who exceed expectations, but they’re the exception, not the rule. As for certain Muggleborns—well, Annalise has always privately believed that the more talented of that lot probably have some magical blood in their history. Honest-to-goodness talent can’t just spring up out of nowhere.

In the same vein, half-breeds are dangerous and have no business socializing with regular folk. That isn’t bias. It’s fact. Werewolves—they’re wolves! The fact that there is one of their kind in the Order—well, it’s just another nail in the Order’s coffin, as far as she’s concerned.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? The amount of attention and detail that has gone into this rp is incredible. I’m all about worldbuilding and the world you’ve created here is fascinating! I also just love Annalise’s bio—she’s a loyal, hard-working, and patient Hufflepuff, who is channelling that loyalty and hard work and patience into burning the Order to the ground. She’s not fuelled by lust for power or pureblood idealism—this is personal. That’s the most Hufflepuff way to go dark, and I’m here for it. I’m so interested to see how she’ll balance the need to stay under the radar and out of suspicion, with the need to advance and gain access to more information—as well as how she’ll cope as she gets to know people in the Order better. It’s easier to hate all of them when she doesn’t actually know any of them.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): I’d definitely like to see information that Annalise passes on, be put to use against the Order. Also, plots that will challenge her and put her in difficult situations—for example, if a Death Eater is taken hostage by the Order, will she be able to risk setting them free?

ANYTHING ELSE? Just that this group looks so great, and I hope you like my app!

[canvas-the-florist]

No Time Like the Present (3)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, QPR Intrulogical, Sleepmas

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Swearing, harassment, assassination, neglectful parents (?), homophobia mention, fire

Summary: Roman and Virgil have a bonding moment, Dolos discovers something that shouldn't be as surprising as it is, and history gets a vibe check with hindsight.

-

Roman had only been awake for three minutes and he already knew it was too early. The stress had been getting to him, and on the long way to the palace, he had only gotten three hours of sleep in the past week. Usually, he’d sleep in and cuddle into Dolos, but that wasn’t really an option. Even when he’d do expeditions alone, Roman at least knew that his love was safe at home. This wasn’t exactly a good week for him as he knew the sun wasn’t even up yet.

He sighed dramatically and stood up to stretch. Deciding to spend his time wisely so everyone could leave the moment they woke up, he fed the horses, checked around the area for any trouble, and started the hunt for food. Now, they brought food, and Roman knew this, but he had been so bored lately now that his days had an extra six hours. So this meant, he’d roughly remember everything Patton has said about scavenging and try to mimic everything Virgil has done regarding hunting. It didn’t go to plan as he wished but at least he hasn’t gotten severely injured yet, as he was still recovering from that one asshole.

Unfortunately, his brain couldn’t help but drift to Dolos. What if they were all too late? What if he gets hurt in a way he never recovers? Is this how Dolos feels whenever Roman travels out of town? He travels a l o t and he had almost always had to get patched up by the end of it. The guilt started growing as he realized that he and his boyfriend had switched roles. A little ‘I told you so’ at the end of this entire fiasco was definitely in order and Roman would accept it gracefully. He breathed in to keep himself from freaking out. He and Dolos would both get out of this alive, and it’ll be okay. But why couldn’t he bring himself to believe it?

“What the fuck are you doing up so fucking early?”

“Shut up, Virgil, you’re going to wake up Patton and you know he’s a light sleeper,” Roman said huffing slightly at the end of his sentence. Even though he had been up for hours, it was still way too early for any actual communication. “Besides, I know you like sleeping in so what woke you?”

Virgil gave a small grin and shrugged, extending his arms to invite a hug. “I can sense anxiety from 20 feet away so I thought I’d comfort you.”

“Sounds fake but okay.” Roman scoffed, accepting the hug with a small laugh. “Though it is mighty suspicious that I have woken up before you, and you have shown on multiple accounts to not sleep like,,, at all.”

Virgil shoved Roman out of the hug and punched his shoulder. A little unnecessary, but that was what basically defined their friendship at that point. Some melodramatic bickering and practically acting like they hate each other even if they would kill for one another. Though, if this were to be brought up, the two would immediately argue this, as if it was something the world wasn’t allowed to know. Logan and Patton found it ridiculous but Remus found it hilarious that they can act so stupid. Eventually, the others woke up to the two lightly bantering. The sun was up at that point and it was decided they should PROBABLY leave to finish their plan.

“Guuuysss, our horses will probably kick us if we don’t get going!” Patton called.

Roman shook his head with a tired but genuine laugh; hopefully, that laugh would be shared with Dolos soon. He ran back to the campsite, ready to leave as soon as he could.

-

After Dolos was told the plan he was half-convinced it would work.

I mean if you heard any plans about overthrowing your current government with 30 or so people, you’d be skeptical too, right? You wouldn’t just believe everything off the bat. Remy and Magenta shared a house and gave Dolos the guest bed. They weren’t together nor would they ever which was totally fine and Dolos didn’t even ask or hint at something like that when Magenta told him. He was assuming that one of them or both were in separate relationships or so.

It was late at night or early morning and he still hadn’t slept. He was under the blankets, all warm and cozy, but actually getting rest? Who did you take him for? He hardly ever slept when Roman was on his trips, but actually having an adventure for himself? That shit is scary. Dolos sighed and turned to his hide to cradle a pillow in his arms. He hugged it close to his chest, forcing his eyes closed as he imagined that he was safe and sound at home with Roman and his plants. He was so sleep deprived he could almost feel his loved one’s arms around his waist.

Unfortunately, it only lasted about twenty minutes before the sun came up, forcing Dolos to get up as the light hit his pillow and face immediately. He frowned and rubbed his eyes. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind as a vacation at any rate. First of all, he would’ve preferred to have his boyfriend.

While he walked out to the commons of the household he noticed the lack of everyone else. Did they get curtains for every room in the house but his? Classic. He was tired and more than 75% convinced that being cursed to turn half-snake made him cold-blooded as well.

Dolos wrapped his arms around himself, giving himself a small hug and warmth as he curled up in the recliner. Roman would probably tease him on how he can fit so perfectly wrapped in a ball on a chair. This caused him to accidentally drop one of his legs which he didn’t have the reaction time to pull up again. His foot hit the floor and Dolos hissed in pain, attempting not to wake anyone up.

“Well, this is going perfectly.” He muttered to himself angrily, slowly falling off of the chair and slumping to the ground. “Just absolutely splendid. No setbacks at all.”

“Saying synonyms to what you want to believe is true probably isn’t going to work, babe.” Dolos turned around and saw Remy, coffee and all. It’s like he couldn’t be seen without caffeine. He let an exaggerated sigh after taking in the fake that another person was awake, especially that person being Remy. He rolled his eyes in response. “Gurl, calm down, this is my house after all. Strange how I come here sometimes.”

He didn’t bother to respond verbally and slid slowly off of the chair onto the ground so Dolos wouldn’t have to look at his face. It was a bit childish but he was too sleep-deprived to care about that much. He just wanted to hug his boyfriend and let him know that he was alright. Hopefully, he wasn’t doing anything stupid… Ugh, the sooner he helped this ragtag team overthrow the king, the earlier he could get a new home with Roman. If it took actually cooperating with people, maybe the snake would consider it. He let out another sigh and stood up.

“So, what can I do to help your side of the rebellion?”

“About fucking time you gave some enthusiasm.”

-

Thomas tucked his pocket watch back into his jacket for about the fifth time before the queen came in. He was incredibly nervous because he had to actually talk to his father and without Joan around, he didn’t want to mess up and put anyone in jeopardy. Unfortunately for him, his mother had the pleasure of telling him that his father was too busy. Because of course, why would anyone want time with their son? He wasn’t salty at all thanks for asking.

With a sigh, Thomas decided that he was definitely sneaking out again to see Remy and hear about the plans. The more his father ignored him, the more he wanted to rebel. So, once night fell, he put on his cloak and peasant clothing to walk into the streets. It was nightfall at this point and he blended into the point he felt like he let out a breath he seemed to have held for an entire day. Even with being a prince, he never really thinks of himself as one. Yes, he’s grateful for his privilege but he tried not to expect everyone to treat him with that privilege.

It was a hazy afternoon and he opened the door, closing it behind him swiftly. The door closed louder than he thought it would and he heard a loud thud along with a long string of swears. It wasn’t a voice he recognized so he decided to assume it was that Deceit fellow. Even so, Thomas placed his hand on the hilt of his dagger and slowly walked to the living room to see a person on the floor, clutching their feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Perfectly peachy, this definitely isn’t the second time this happened to me today.” Ah, this person can possibly be a threat then. Too clumsy to be an actual criminal. “So are you that prince dude the coffee addicted bitch won’t stop talking about?”

Thomas shook his head. “First of all, no swearing. Second of all, yes, I think?”

“Of course. At least I know that you’re sort of trustworthy.” The man said, standing up and avoiding wincing. Thomas came to the realization that this was supposedly the masterful witch that could destroy the king? Hmmm, okayyy. “Anyways, dipstick, I heard the plan. It might suck ass but I think with a couple of knuckleheads like you, y’all have a chance.”

Without even digesting the sentence, one thing came to the prince’s mind. “Y’all? I have no idea what you’re saying to me.”

Deceit laughed and punched his shoulder, causing Thomas to grab it and yelp in alarm. He was just met with another snicker, which turned grim. “Look, sorry for punching your fragile noodle arms, but you need a better plan with more or fewer people. At this stage of planning, Y’ALL won’t be able to overthrow the king. I know Remy doesn’t want me to change the outline and I respect that, but sometimes force is a dumb fucking thing to do. Since you’re dating him or whatever, and probably smarter let’s be real, you need to tell him! We aren’t going to be able to go at night with clanky weapons and shit like that! You need a more cohesive plan!”

“Well, shit,” Thomas breathed.

“Swearing,” Deceit tutted with a smirk.

Thomas punched him, similar to how he was hit just earlier. Deceit fell from his force, accidentally setting his hair on fire. Both of them stared at each other for a moment. Neither of them noticed Remy had showed up until he poured his coffee on top of the fire. The two standing helped him stand up, as he was too shocked to react. He looked at his hands, managing to make a flame grow above his finger. Deceit blew it out and made eye contact with Remy.

“I think I’m actually a fucking witch then.” He looked up, imagining how Roman would react to this. “Well, that makes a lot more sense than being a pyromaniac as a child… Huh…”

-

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! Roman stared at his broken sword. He was supposed to be the knight in shining armor for his love, not breaking the one thing he knew how to use properly. Hell, he couldn’t hold a bow right. This was his favorite sword too. He dropped his head on the horse's neck and sighed. Roman thought himself as an idiot at this moment.

“Yep, that sword looks done for.” Patton declared, patting Roman’s back in sympathy.

“Thanks, Patton,” He replied with a sigh.

“We could always gain possession of another sword. One in better shape.” Logan stated, picking up the pieces and stuffing them into his backpack. They couldn’t leave any traces of themselves behind, even if a broken blade was incredibly useless at the moment. “Furthermore, we have reached our destination. Erytol is two hours and three minutes away if we keep at this current pace without distraction.”

Virgil stretched his back and it cracked loudly. “Since when have we kept from being distracted?” He asked with a chuckle. “Besides, we’re going to have to wait until dark before we should even bother walking in. Even Patton got banned from this city, right?”

Patton nodded while Remus laughed at him. “I think I mentioned something about gay people? Weird because I don’t even have romantic attraction.”

The group sighed at the sound of homophobia. You know the city is bad when even Patton managed to get banned from it. Continuing on, they eventually decided to stop their conversation and travel as promptly as they could. They hid in their average cloaks and prepared for their least favorite city. Erytol. This place was annoying because it had the castle, which meant that more guards and stuff were stationed there. Yet, it was filled with lots of plans to overthrow the king, though a lot of them were never attempted or fell flat. This time it would be better. Because the gays were angry and wanted to fight.

And they were going to beat the shit out of their opponents.

-

When Dolos was a child, around seven years old, he wasn’t allowed outside. He was known as the destructive kid that would be a bad influence on yours. Dolos had once set fire to an entire house and his parents quickly moved away from that town. He wasn’t the son his father or mother could be proud of so he was taken out of the public eye. At least, that’s what he thought for the longest time.

Dolos had grown to despise his parents for being forced to hide. Sure, their intentions seemed good! Their child wouldn’t stop setting fires and at the time he was twelve, this was pushed aside as a wild boy with pyromania. So, he was feared. He had no friends or anything. Eventually, Dolos chilled out and learned to handle things on his own. He bandaged his own wounds and fought his own battles. When he WAS let out, his parents made him wear a hood over his head so the neighbors wouldn’t recognize him. But one day, he met someone that could be considered a friend. Remus.

He was a boy just a year older than himself. An unruly personality. Perhaps one comparable to a wild pyromaniac?

So, a friend! A friend that was a twin that could also be a friend! But, Dolos wasn’t supposed to be outside or talk to others. But… he finally had friends… Doesn’t that mean something? His parents should at least respect that, right? They didn’t. He was told to remain quiet and go home immediately. As Dolos was walking away in shame, he turned and saw confusion and hurt in Remus’s eyes. He softened and fought against his want to cry. If he wasn’t allowed to be friends, he would just have to break the rules.

Roman and Remus were kind. They didn’t ask questions when Dolos knocked on their window at one AM. Perhaps they were too tired or suspected something about his family life. Dolos had run away at age fourteen. He lived with Remus and Roman at their orphanage. It was a refuge for him. He was able to talk to other children and have friends! But not all were ups. The food was horrible and most of the kids were even worse. Dolos would go into his shared bedroom with bruises he would treat himself after treating Remus. Roman was the only one who evaded bullying, by appearing so confident, no one dared to mess with him.

No matter how strong the three got, it was agreed to run away after a year. They ended up in Klanbou, the self-declared “most dangerous city in the continent!” by its citizens. That’s when the three worked together smuggling pixie dust through cities, Remus and Dolos also taking up part-time assassins. They all took up code names to remain secret and eventually met a young man named Virgil under extremely unlucky circumstances. Dolos never mentioned his pyromania to anyone and always kept some form of water on him at all times. Not to keep him hydrated, but to hope it would all stop. Eventually, at least. He never considered himself to be a witch, he didn’t realize the qualifications of magic at the time.

At least, until he had turned 22, and encountered a drunk wizard when he was in the middle of working out his plan for a random politician. The wizard was attempting to flirt with Dolos and as he told him kindly to “Fuck off” and to leave him alone… The wizard got upset. And slapped him.

Dolos stood up to yell at the wizard only to find the left of his face in excruciating pain. He had fallen to the floor, feeling cold hard scales sprouting off his face. The wizard gave him one last kick before leaving the bar. Roman ran after him, leaving Dolos alone. And as he was, he heard the earl of the town ban him publicly. In front of almost the whole contents of Klanbou, the city of criminals. People yelled and called him a witch.

As he was about to be chased out, his eyes darken. “I’ll give you witch,” he hissed, touching the building. The pyromaniac tendencies must’ve kicked in because Dolos created fire without knowing how, and walked out with Roman helping to carry Dolos’s weight. If Klanbou wouldn’t hold them, they might as well give them a legitimate reason not to. And burning the bar seemed appropriate at the time. Though, this meant the two would need somewhere new to live, and a cottage in the woods sounded pretty nice.

taglist:  @azure-shard @bookwyrminspiration @snakeboicouldbegayer

[rough-n-randy-rando]

Edd and Flow; Jitters, Junk, Fireflies

Eddward Vincent had never been on a clandestine date before. Or any date for that matter.  He’d gone to Sadie Hawkins with Nazz, but it had been a pleasant outing between two friends. Nazz had met his parents, he’d met Nazz’s, pinned a corsage, danced together under the supervision of chaperones, drank punch that may or may not have been spiked. It had been a quick affair, never repeated and with no misunderstandings or hurt feelings.

     As he decided on what to wear, he thought over the situation in terms of what a date classically is and found that it was beyond typical categorization. If anything, it was a rendezvous. It had all the thrill, danger and intrigue of one at least. And it was hot, but not just hot, humid at that. A romantic rendezvous in a tank-top and shorts? It would be so.

    There was another point of consideration; was that all this would be? A passing… something… in the night? Is that worthwhile? Is that something to look forward to? So many questions, and nothing but a time and place to answer them. As well as an auburn-haired boy. That raised more thoughts, lewd, personal thoughts. He humored them and changed again. Messy, messy, messy.

    By four in the afternoon he’d run out of things to catalogue and alphabetize; every advisory note left by his parents was read and followed; Jim and the ant colony fed and watered; any and every bit of clothes washed, folded. Now he’d resorted to an impromptu one man play in the living room, portraying both himself and a suddenly erudite and proper Kevin, replete with baseball cap. Then, a knock at the door.

    Actually, it was less a knock than it was Eddy strolling in, Ed in tow. “Hey Sockhead why dontcha answer your phone?” He tracked in mud, fresh, blackened mud likely from a runoff canal near the Creek. “Ed and I found a great spot ta set up Slippery Eddy’s Super Summer Splash Park and we need ya ta draw up the plans.”

    “Eddy, shoes, please!” Double-Dee sprung over the couch and dialed a command into his wristwatch, sleeker models of the cleaner bots from the café emerging from the hall closet and setting to work.

    Ed swept Double-Dee in his arms and crushed the air from his lungs in a rib-cracking bear hug. “Eddy told me you’d been taken by the sewer people, to build them a radioactive claw they’d use to steal the Earth’s core!” He mimicked a gnarled claw and snapped at various objects on the end table near the couch, curling his lip and crossing his eyes in his best impression of a sewer person.

    “Ed, we’ve talked about unnecessary roughness in our greetings.” Double-Dee felt the pressure around him relax.

    “Sorry Double-Dee.” Ed seemed on the edge of tears, sincerely remorseful he’d slipped up and possibly disappointed his friend.

    Double-Dee had a special place in his heart, and therefore his patience, for Ed, and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s perfectly fine, Ed, just a friendly reminder. Now, if you wouldn’t mind releasing me.” Ed dropped him bodily to the floor and stood smiling.

    Eddy had meanwhile helped himself to one of the pre-made sandwiches Double-Dee had spent the morning preparing for himself and was lounging on the couch, a phone in his hand. “All my missed calls and you didn’t even try to get back to me.” He seemed taken aback by something he saw on the screen and flew into a rage. “Kevin? What, he tryin ta shanghai ya ta help him with his summer school?”

    Double-Dee scrambled over the couch and tried his best to get his phone back, Eddy keeping him at bay with his leg. “My correspondence with other people is my own business, Eddy; so unless you’re listed as the account holder or contribute directly to my service bill, I’d appreciate you returning my property to me and pondering your own social interactions, thank you very…” he kicked off the arm-rest of the couch and managed to spring past Eddy’s leg, grabbing ahold of his phone as he sailed off towards a crash landing, “much!”

    He made a hard landing against the opposite wall, knocking over a waist-high bookshelf. Ed scrambled over and helped unbury Double-Dee, lifting him up to his feet and dusting him off.

    “Are you okay, Double-Dee?”

    “Yes, thank you, Ed… you didn’t take off your shoes?”

    Sure enough, there was a long, thick trail of viscous, blackened mud from the entryway to him, the cleaner bots chugging along frustratedly.

    “Forget his shoes, what’s Shovelchin tryin ta rope ya into, huh, huh?”

    Double-Dee held the phone to his chest and turned his nose up at Eddy, moving off towards the kitchen. “None of your ‘beezewax’ to borrow from your own crude vocabulary.” He glanced at the screen and saw he had indeed received a message from a number identifying itself as Kevin.

Hey Double-Dork, it’s Kev, don’t forget.

    He felt a bolt of lighting shoot up his spine and crash back down in the pit of his stomach, flooding him with warmth and energy, his heart racing. Now how to go about responding. He wanted to send a long-heartfelt message filled with his excitement and anticipation, the concern and worry that had been consuming him ever since their brief intimacy the day prior. Then he thought of how Kevin, up till now the smoothest of operators when it came to romance, would take this outpouring of deep emotions, especially in such an early, fragile state of their… relationship.

    “Hello, Double-Dee, ya have a stroke or somethin?” Eddy had finished his sandwich, wiping his hands on the couch, and was looking at him expectantly.

    “Eddy, how would you respond to someone who had asked you out on a date, wishing to maintain a level of distance and mask your enthusiasm?” He looked to Eddy, who had a crestfallen look on his face.

    “Oh come on, not Boxhead…”

    “The identity of the individual is irrelevant, but the question stands.”

    “Is Double-Dee in love, Eddy?” Ed again closed the distance between himself and Edd, wrapping him up in a cautious embrace.

    “I wouldn’t call it love, Ed, but someone has piqued my interest, yes.” Double-Dee relished the affection afforded to him by his gregarious friend and returned the hug.

    “What you have to do is beat up their enemy like in Ultra Space Adventure number six-hundred and four, where Tim Cobalt, space explorer, fought for the love of an alien with a thousand mouths by defeating the hairy mutants from X-O-Nine!” Again, sudden silence, pleasant smile.

    “I’ll take it under consideration, Ed.”

    “I say leave him hangin, never text back, move away, save yourself the headache.”

    “Come now, Eddy; could it be your prior antagonistic encounters with Kevin have soured your opinion of him?”

    “Kevin’s a jerk, always will be a jerk, ask Nazz.”

    Double-Dee bit his lip and tapped Ed to release him. He moved into the living room and sat in his father’s recliner, looking off to a spot on the carpet. “I admit, Kevin’s romantic record to this point has been less than stellar. But could it be that that’s a part of adolescence? After all, Kevin and Nazz remain close friends, despite their history.”

    Eddy looked Double-Dee over and shook his head, standing to leave. “Double-Dee ya could marry a hornet’s nest and I’d ask when the reception is…” he picked at his teeth with the nail of his pinky-finger and examined what he’d scraped loose, “but Kevin?” He tutted and walked towards the door. “Just don’t ask me ta be nice ta him.” He paused and said over his shoulder, “Keep it loose, say when and where, then be there, keep him guessing.”

    “Remember Double-Dee; defeating your love’s enemies is the key to the heart.” Sudden silence. Pleasant smile.

    “Ed, your advice, as always, is illuminating.”

    “Wait for me, Eddy!” Ed raced after Eddy and practically bulldozed him out the door, the pair alternatingly laughing and arguing as they made their way back to whatever spot they’d staked out.

     Save for the cleaning machines lethargically scrubbing away at the last of the Ed’s mess, the house was quiet. Double-Dee looked at his screen again and considered a response. Then, another text popped onto the screen.

Don’t flake on me or I’ll pound ya.

    It seemed Kevin was also in the throes of pre-date jitters. He thought on it for a moment, then replied.

Eight o’clock, the park.

    And that was that.

       The Park was one of the oldest in Peach Creek, planned back when the cul de sac and other suburb outcroppings were still just blueprints and promises. It was simple, a few play structures, slides and swings, as well as a sandbox. Ringed by tall, old trees that were always last on the town’s list of landscaping priorities, a canopy had formed in some places, and in others crowded saplings and bushes fought for space. Otherwise, it was a straight shot through the park from one end to the other, wide open views from the street that anyone could take in unobstructed while passing by.

    These observations were obvious to Double-Dee as he sat at the picnic table, glancing at his phone every few seconds. 7:55pm. He’d arrived promptly at 7:30 to allow himself the opportunity to settle in, seem casual, build an alibi should anyone from the neighborhood or beyond happen upon him and subject him to interrogation. He’d imagined a million and one scenarios, his stories becoming more and more fluid as the questioning increased in severity. By 7:45 his resolve had faltered a bit, though he quickly reminded himself that it was Kevin who’d set the time and Kevin who’d sent a reminder, as well as a, hopefully, playful threat.

    The summer sun set late. It would be almost 9 by the time it fully set beyond the western mountains, casting everything into deep, dark night. Now, at 8pm, there was more than enough light to show someone mounted on a restored, candy-red ’92 Honda VT600 Shadow roll up to the curb beyond the park’s entrance.

    The mystery rider cut the engine and sat back in the seat, arms crossed, the tinted, visored helmet clearly looking towards him, “You comin or what?”

    Double-Dee felt both underdressed and intimidated. Whereas he’d resolved to wear cargo shorts and a simple band tee, Kevin was clad in black denim with a weathered, adobe-colored leather jacket. He needed to retain some of the rehearsed blasé attitude he’d constructed.

    “I’d accuse you of showing off but I’m afraid I don’t know enough about motorcycles or the necessary safety gear to offer any real criticism.” Humorous, self-effacing, humble.

    “Shut up Dork, put this on.” The careful waltz of clever witticisms was shattered, and Kevin lobbed a small backpack at Double-Dee. Inside was an equally weathered chartreuse leather jacket and an older, Italian motorcycle helmet.

    “First of all, Mr. Barr, don’t speak to me in that way.” Double-Dee let the bag drop to his feet and crossed his arms. “I’ll admit I’m positively disposed towards you but this disposition does not mean I’ll forgive disrespect.”

    Kevin kept his helmet visor down, a black-eyed cyclops that stared him down wordlessly. He triggered the kickstand switch and let the bike settle at a cant, dismounting and walking straight up to the other boy. He stood a full head taller, and he still didn’t raise the visor.

    “Well?” Gasoline fumes mingled with the aseptic bite of a cologne that had given up the ghost long ago. The closeness of the two as well as Kevin’s facelessness revived the sense of enticing danger Double-Dee had dismissed as romantic fantasy.

    Kevin flipped up the visor and was smiling. “You’re cute when ya want to act all tough, Mr. Vincent.” He scooped the bag up and handed it daintily to Double-Dee. “Pretty please, with sugar on top, put this on.”

    “Very well, but only because you asked so nicely.”

    Soon, they were off, riding for about an hour to the west, halfway between Peach Creek and Lemon Brook. Suburbs gave way to orchards, the new moon providing more than enough light to navigate the many backroads Kevin detoured. Here and there you’d spot farmhouses; lonely old things that looked abandoned, only the motion-activated security lights close to the road reminding you that people lived there.

    Even with earplugs, the sound of the bike’s engine was monstrously loud, the vibration of the road rattling Double-Dee numb. He’d kept his eyes clamped shut for much of the ride, but as Kevin slowed to take the winding roads to their unknown destination, he’d allowed himself to peek out into the night, take in the sights. In the milky-white brilliance of the new moon, details were discernable; old collapsed fence posts with depression-era barbed wire; an actual honest-to-god phone booth at a crossroads that still had a functioning light on the inside; an abandoned tractor that had been consumed by wild grass and weeds, a thicket forming around it; acres upon acres of anything and everything that grew on trees.

    Though named for the citrus fruit, no lemons grew in or around Lemon Brook. The main employer of the community, Staple and Citrus Cargo Company, named the town after the first product they’d shipped in upon opening in 1890: Lemons for the Navy from California. Rail-lines, weigh stations, turntables, fuel and water depots cross-hatched and dotted the county. This area surrounding the town was known as the badlands, beginning and ending at an old district boundary no one bothered to review.

    They finally came to a halt at the beginning of a gravel road that disappeared through a cluster of beech trees. Kevin killed the engine and sat for a moment, then turned his helmeted head.

    “Hey, uh, you can let go now.”

    Double-Dee did so, the blood rushing back into his arms, hands, fingers. “My apologies, Kevin, I’m not used to this mode of travel.”

    “It’s fine, Nazz hated riding this thing too.”

    Double-Dee dismounted shakily, his legs waking up. “I’m glad to know how other people you’ve dated enjoyed the experience.”

    “Come on, Double-Dee, I didn’t me-” Kevin saw that the other boy was politely stifling a laugh. “Good one, you really made me feel like a jerk.”

    “I can’t make you feel what you already suspect.” Eddward allowed himself the laugh and removed the helmet, his beanie pressed flat underneath.

    “I’ve never seen someone get helmet HAT before.” Kevin dismounted as well and walked the bike off the side of the road into a stand of already dying paper birches. Double-Dee was waiting for him as he reemerged, and Kevin thought on how ridiculous he looked in the oversized jacket, shorts, and chipped-white helmet, old-school driving goggles sitting crookedly across the brow. “You look like you shop at the Salvation Army.”

    Double-Dee considered what he was wearing and shrugged, “Half of this outfit was provided by you, so I’d say it reveals more about your own stylistic choices than mine.”

    “Fair enough, come on, we’re almost there.”

    They set off along the gravel road and entered the stand of beeches, Double-Dee taking note of the many bottles and cans strewn about the ground.

    “I take it this is a popular place for revelry, shame they’re so inconsiderate of the local flora.”

    Kevin stooped and came back up with one of the cans in hand. It was so faded, half-covered in a slimy, mossy sludge that he couldn’t make out any kind of date or design. He let it fall back among its brothers and wiped off the sludge on a tree as he walked by. “Used to be, all the upperclassmen would come here.”

    “We’re the upperclassmen now.”

    Kevin chuckled, “Yeah, we’re in the big leagues.”

    They exited the stand of trees and stood at the edge of a field of tall grass about two acres long by two acres wide. Rising out of the grass here and there were old hulks of various vehicles. They were rusted husks without engines, without seats, skeletons of skeletons. In the center of the field there rose a jagged mound of earth and steel. Bicycles, shopping carts, weathervanes, melted and crushed together into a chaotic mass half-buried by an abortive burial attempt. The earth that had been heaped upon it had, over time, solidified and compacted, and now was topped by thin, white, fluted flowers.

    What gave this mound shape was the most surprising specimen of all; beneath the wreckage and dirt sat an old tank, its turret turned slightly to the right, main gun held aloft by a sturdy-looking support brace bolted to the chassis.

    Kevin took Double-Dee’s hand and squeezed it. “Welcome to the ThunderDome.”

   Double-Dee giggled and took the lead, pulling Kevin along as he walked towards the mound. “I’d be interested to see what species of flower that is, as well as the model of the …”

    They’d only taken a few steps in when the fireflies, as though they had fallen asleep on the job, rose and began their display. The two teens were surrounded by a flurry of light, a chain reaction rippling outward across the field, legions upon legions of the luminescent insects taking flight. The new moon was obscured by a blanket of clouds that threatened rain and thunder, the night deepening across the land. The fireflies were transformed from points of light to living stars, meteors caught in the atmosphere of this private universe, celestial bodies that collided and danced all around them.

    “It’s beautiful, it’s like experiencing the moment after the Big Bang!”

    Kevin looked at Double-Dee and was struck by the awe, the wonder in his eyes. As those wide orbs of glacial blue diamonds took in the beauty of the moment, reflections of fireflies that passed close by blinked in and out of existence like sparks from a flint. For a moment Kevin was party to Double-Dee’s immense knowledge, imagination, and understanding, and in that moment he felt afraid. He was one of the most intelligent people Kevin had ever met, an inscrutable mind of unknowable potential. What could he offer him? What could he give to him that he couldn’t create himself, better, at ten times the scale with ten times the power?

    Double-Dee moved in close and laid his head on Kevin’s chest. “I could live in this moment for the rest of my life.”

    At a loss for a response, but feeling victorious, he held him close and said nothing.

READ THE FULL STORY IN SEQUENCE HERE

[ask-asuka-x-shinji]

Right. Several days ago on my personal, I said i had a decent idea for an Eva fic and if It was gonna go anywhere i’d post a preview here. This is very much a preview version of chapter one, while I try and remember what I did with my Ao3 account’s password I’m gonna really clean it up and add a lot more dialogue and a probably another scene or two. Also this is very much not the verse I RP Shinji and Asuka in, I’m using mostly different headcanons for this. Mari Ikari the protag, her friend Hana and her yet to appear love interest Wing were all created specifically for this idea. 

I’m Mari Akahime Soryu-Ikari, age 14, student at Tokyo 3 City Middle School class 2-A hobby Kendo special skill artistic composition, yes it’s a very long, rather stupid name. Mari after a friend of my late grandmother’s and Red Princess because I have my mom’s bright red hair and it was her own stupid nickname as a kid, not sure how either of us would qualify to be called princess though my understanding is mom was wild and violent as a kid and i’m pretty rough looking myself.

My mom drives me really crazy, I have the great distinction to be the daughter of former child genius and ‘great foreign beauty’ Asuka Langley Soryu, a woman with two children and no idea in the slightest how to do housework, no actually it’s probably that she has no interest in ever learning. Shortly after my brother was born my dad left the military to become a musician full time, he usually works from home but occasionally he goes on tour like he has been the last few days leaving us in her care. I think even my dad just wants to get out of this house now and again. I really don’t want German food in my lunch box, it’s bad enough being German without eating meat and root sandwich spreads. The stupid penguin doesn’t even find that crap edible. She’s not even awake yet, i’m make my own lunch! 

Our current house is actually pretty nice. Well equipped kitchen, my brother and I both have our own bedrooms, I can easily make a few decent rice balls to avoid my mom’s cooking. 

“Good morning, you’re up early you don’t have extra practice this morning do you?” And there she is, not dressed fully and yawning like she didn’t even sleep to begin with, she has work at the same time whether dad’s here or not. I bet she played video games all night, again. Asuka Langley Soryu-Ikari, Age 29, Professor of Theoretical Evolution Tokyo 3 College of Sciences, hobby mixed martial arts, special skill, being a pain. 

“I’m making lunch, if I didn’t you’d send me to school with something weird and you know it.” 

“Well how much is lunch from the school store, it can’t be more than...”

“No! We can’t be so careless with finances, i’m old enough to make my own lunch and one for Eren, you need to get dressed and shower and so forth! You should be the responsible one here mom, so don’t you anything stupid like standing here all morning arguing with me.”

“Hey! I need to make some coffee. You should try doing a job that mostly grading papers when you’re an adult, it screws over your brain.”

“Whatever. I think other things have screwed with your brain from your youth.” 

“oh Clappe!” She squeezes by me to get the electric kettle while pouting like a teenage girl and muttering under her breath. 

She had me very young. What’s probably way too young as you could tell from our ages. I know people like to whisper about it when they think neither of us are listening. Everyone says that she had a breakdown that ended in getting pregnant, but clearly she got better, better enough to get that ridiculous doctorate in a field that no one else understands, while dad never even went to college. But her mother had been famous scientist all the Soryu’s had been for years and years so she wanted to follow in their legacy. She’s such a pain. Although grading papers from students who can’t follow you must be a pain I can’t begin to understand what she’s supposed to be teaching.  

It isn’t long before i’ve got those lunches made and get my brother out the door.  Hana is already waiting for me outside. Hana Aida is probably my closet friend and has been since we were little. She’s a giant robot fangirl and knows probably more about NERV then my parents who actually worked there. Her cousin is pretty much the same and has been dad’s friend since school although he’s even more out there than she is. People used to call her a freak, but then I got in the habit of beating them senseless and they stopped, of course I got into trouble but also every time I did, my mom was actually incredibly proud of me. 

“Red and Little Eren, a good morning to you on another average 90 degree day in Tokyo’s useless autumn, time to work our buts off at school and suffer for it huh?” Hana starts out with.

“My teacher said there is no Autumn in East Asia.” my brother replies confused before he frowns and turns to walk the other way to kindergarten not staying around for an explanation but still confused. 

“I think he usually doesn’t understand a word of what you say Hana just don’t take it too personally.”

“I don’t.” She really didn’t did she? 

“So what are your plans for tonight Red? Do you have more babysitting or can you come over? I could use your eye for detail, you are a born artist.” 

I should probably avoid leaving my mother and brother alone together for too long if I can, but really he’s too young to mind her so it should be fine, it’s not like she’s dangerous just absent minded. She won’t feed Eren penguin food or leave him unattended so it should be fine to hang out after school, it’s not like this hasn’t happened before and isn’t just a constant part of life. 

“I’ve got nothing pressing and it would be nice to get out of the house. What do I need to get?” 

“Now now, I’ve got everything technical, that’s just who I am after all... if such a thing exists for the creation fan art, Ohana Aida has it, or is gonna barrow it from a relative.” 

I think she’s just being nice to a degree. Even if our house is pretty nice now and everything, When i was younger the three of us lived in a one room apartment that my dad had as a NERV officer and when I was born apparently we are all crammed into one bedroom of Colonel Katsuragi’s old place. It’s easy to not realize exactly how bad off you are as a kid, but when you get older you realize how stupid that is. How innocent you were not to see makes you angry or at least it makes me angry. Family pride doesn’t pay any bills and I can’t say the Soryu family has anything else. 

And like that, I didn’t pay attention to my classes and the day is very much over. I need to relax and I feel like hitting something or someone, I promised Hana I'd hang out, so not hitting anyone. 

I guess I should explain since I didn’t earlier what Hana and I actually do, I get so fed up with my family that this narrative is suffering. Like I said my special skill is artistic composition and Hana writes some really bad manga so I’ve been helping with cover art and the like for awhile now... of course you probably have guessed that’s not entirely it. 

A basic benefit of being the daughter of the two of the first actual Mech pilots to ever live is a family resemblance. The type that allows you to model both your parents to you’re mech nerd friend for her art. A decent wig and contacts later and if you didn’t know I might as well be Rei Ayanami we basically have the same face after all. 

It’s never actually bothered me that Hana does this or that I’m helping. Only A handful of people actually know what it was like back then and my parents certainly aren’t talking about it to me. Dad says they met on the deck of a battleship I’ve heard only a few million times that they had some kind of rivalry over who was the better pilot. But specifics? It might as well be the stories from Hana’s comics, so helping is...  a way to see Dad how he used to be. 

Of course, the tsundere girl with the catch phrase ‘don’t be so stupid’, and a firm belief in the bright future that the UN represents for humanity can not be my mom, no way, I sort of like that versions, of course I helped write her and sadly enough based upon myself. 

It’s late by the time, I actually feel brave enough to come come. 

“I’m back, Hanna says hi and wants to borrow some clothes, should I get started on dinner or are we eating something weird yet again? next time please have said leave us dinners.” no reply, the lights are on. I finish taking my shoes off and... and both my mom and little brother are curled up on the floor of the living room fast asleep, the TV still on. She really didn’t sleep last night did she? They’ll be awake when they smell dinner. 

“...Misato put some actual clothes on, don’t stand there like that for Shinji to see and don’t fix us anything weird for dinner just order a pizza like a normal person... what? are you stupid, there’s nothing traditional about instant anything...uh...” and I heard all of that, she’s sleep talking and probably has been.. of course you could guess that’s not why i’ve stopped dead, that actually might as well have been me complaining couldn’t it? best not to admit i heard anything and walk slowly away to start cooking. Right...

[duckbeater]

The Sea of Faith, pt. 1

M showed me his penis a week or so after Carl slept over at his condo. He hoped I would weigh in on a red spot that was neither a pimple from razor burn nor—M had done a frenzied hour or so of Google image comparisons—a herpes rash or an HPV wart or a syphilitic chancre. I didn’t make the obvious connection. In fact, most of my records from that night (including my previous, loosely written one), indicate Carl had made quite the nuisance of himself—too much so to fuck around. He tracked mud onto the carpets and sullied a sea green sofa; he tried smoking inside, first a cigarette and then, after Ben had wrested those away, and M and Ben had believed him pacified, a careful handful of childishly rolled up leaves from a beloved silk pothos. It did not ignite but smoldered sourly. His appetite piqued by all the crawling and tottering, he asked for an egg, two eggs, over-medium, and wheat toast—and ate standing. After a dry dog yowl—huge gloppy vomit—then strings of yolk dripping out his nose. Somehow he managed to pass out on the futon. M removed his wet shoes and pants, and Ben turned his head. They had cleaned his face and dried his eyes (a detail that reminds me of the times I’ve yarked so hard, my eyes streamed tears without sadness); now he was blanketed, pillowed, sound asleep.

But until he collapsed, Carl talked more or less nonstop. He mumbled questions about the decoration, about their “arrangement”—“How long have you two been ‘exclusive’?”—deploying air quotes, saying too that he was just waiting for John to text, just a little howdy-doody, “My ‘John’ …”—but probably, so late, John was asleep… then moved to a discussion of the neighborhood. All this in a soft loop, this blather. He apologized in an offhand way, also repeatedly, for “crowding their scene.” When M explained this to me, I said, “Oh, he was waiting for the invitation to join you in bed. It’s not at all weird that even very drunk he kept priorities around sex. What a lizard. You were his little rock to lie on.”

“I don’t have a little rock,” said M.

“Why did you make that dumb fuck an egg sandwich?” I replied.

“It was very late and all our other attempts at drunk person diplomacy had failed.”

This summary took place before the penis picture. We were walking together down Clark, he tall and I short, two limp lightning bolts in sweat-soaked gym clothes. M was supposed to be taking a bus back after our Fro-Yo, but we were letting them glide north while we continued to stroll south. The evening air smelled of lavender from Andersonville’s many decorative beds (the flowers pressed a little from a light summery thundershower), with the usual notes of misty wet road and car exhaust. Also, from no discernible source, garlic bread.

“What was the morning like?” I asked.

M said, “Not awesome. He was not waking up in time for my work, so I left him with Ben, and he did not wake up in time for Ben’s drive back to Michigan, so then Ben left him with a note.”

“Did he pee the bed?”

“No.”

“Did he smell bad?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Man,” I said, “how unpleasant. Carl didn’t talk anymore about Trump?”

“No.”

“Did you see him again?”

“Nope,” said M, “he slipped away I guess in the afternoon.”

“How are him and John?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Do you have any greater sense of who this creature was, who you brought into your home, fed, stripped, tucked safely to sleep? He has used you in every way short of writing your address a shitty Airbnb review, and you can’t give me—”

“Evan,” M cut in, “what you really want are details to put into your stories, and for now, I’m fine, I’m quite fine with the…” He searched for a word.

“Paucity?” I supplied. “The paucity of detail?”

“Carl’s amazing vanishing act.” Then M remembered something: “He did end up smoking in the house! He did! I came home and the whole fucking place smelled like an ashtray!”

“What a horrible dumb fuck!” I said, relishing this detail, luxuriating in it as amorously as a cat who’s found sun-warmed wood to lie on. I actually began to kneed M’s back, purring like an idiot, fingers meeting tensed muscles through his shirt.

“That fucking tickles!” he screamed, then pivoted, and held both my hands in his. “This is my bus,” he said. “Tell Daniel I said, ‘Make more money!’”

“Okay, tell Ben I said, ‘Pull more teeth!’”

He rolled his eyes and then, as is M’s custom, kissed me much too deeply, much too wetly on the mouth, and before I’d opened my eyes (for I have made it my custom to close my eyes, and to imagine, with all attendant melancholy, what my life with M would have been like), ah, he was gone.

—

Whenever I’ve wrecked myself on booze in front of strangers, I assumed there was no saving it. I reasoned I’d never see those victims again, and that over the course of months, in a city full of strangers drinking themselves to tatters in front of other strangers, those victims would forget my face. My holding this belief accounts for some of my surprise (and some of my admiration) on finding Carl’s friend request when I got home. In fact his tactic mystified me. He had appended the notice, I was not myself.

Not discounting M’s very recent account, Carl’s presumption of grace deeply impressed me. Substituting one identity for another, as in the transforming embrace of a forgiving god, is a powerful leap into the charity of those you’ve trespassed. It is excellent gamesmanship. I can’t complete this analogy (because it’s not a very good one), but I recalled the plot of Borges’ “The Theologians,” a story that ends in heaven, with the orthodox Aurelian and his nemesis, the heretic John of Pannonia, forming a single, unimportant person in the mind of their inscrutable divinity. I felt that I could be this inscrutable divinity, disinterestedly absolving the two Carls. I drank some wine, I tapped my lower lip.

“It is not one pyre you are lighting, it is a labyrinth of fire,” hissed Euphorbus, wearing his clothes of flames. I’d never considered the gay subtext of “The Theologians,” but suddenly it was crystalline. I tapped my lower lip. I was not myself. The demands of the city—its psychic boring, its loneliness and drudgery—have fairly atrophied my sense of destiny. I’ve never been a great detective; the little red flags that practically fall from the mouths of wastrels, I use those for napkins, believing them to be napkins. That isn’t a metaphor for using the messes of other people to wipe away my own (or not only). Some hazards reflect back at you and blind you. With slits for eyes I accepted his friend request.

I accepted his friendship, and went ahead and built it, technically, on a lie. He thanked me for helping him to bed in M’s condo and I didn’t correct him. Embellishing some, I wrote: It was like disposing of a corpse! You were so heavy. It felt like a gangster movie. The pronoun was speculative, meaning hypothetical. (Furnishing him upstairs probably did feel like managing a corpse up two flights, to M and Ben. Carl probably was heavy: he’s six-foot-two.) He wrote back, I’m glad you found it entertaining, and I interjected—because I’m a fast typer—No, it was cinematic, I wasn’t entertained!

He didn’t reply back to that thread, but a few days later he sent me a book review I’d already read and I thanked him for it.

Days after that he inquired if I’d read the book under review or the review itself, and I said,Yes, of course, and he said, I thought so. Would you recommend? I was beginning to feel important. I said Nah and asked about John. Several hours later he replied: All’s well that ends well. Because the last I’d seen of Carl was his crying on a stoop, I wondered how stable was their relationship? No new pictures together—fairly few together to begin with, no mutual replies or likes.

I texted M. Carl and John break-up?

Hours later, M ignored the question and proposed we see a movie later in the week. I didn’t text back at all, thinking, Game recognize game. I didn’t obsess, and I didn’t encourage.

[devonrunning]

Adventures in Postpartum Exercise

I went back to the gym 17 days after giving birth.

That was a mistake.

I was eager to feel a little bit like my old self again, to move my body independently of doing things for my baby, and dear God, to actually be alone and do whatever I wanted for 30 glorious minutes. And yes, I was eager to start working toward my pre-baby body again.

17 days after giving birth.

That was a mistake.

I always thought I would give myself more grace after having a baby, but it was much different psychologically for me at the time from what I imagined. I gave myself all the grace in the world when I had a baby in my belly, but once she was out, I felt like I no longer had an excuse to carry the extra weight (even though, duh, I totally did—I just had a baby and was breastfeeding to boot).

I didn’t anticipate the physical awkwardness of that postpartum in-between phase, when my pre-baby clothes were still a looong way from fitting, but my maternity clothes were pilled and stretched out and unflattering. I didn’t realize I’d have to buy a whole third wardrobe to accommodate that phase (many pieces of which I’m still wearing, by the way, since I don’t comfortably fit into my pre-baby jeans or some tops nearly 17 months later, but I’ve long since accepted that).

Back to that first trip to the gym. The common advice after an uncomplicated vaginal birth is to wait six weeks to do anything other than light walking, and then get cleared by your doctor to exercise again. I felt great by 17 days out, though, and had stopped bleeding (after giving birth, you basically have the longest, heaviest period of your life—woo-hoo), so I figured it was OK. I think I did a slow, gentle stint on the elliptical and lifted some weights. I felt great!

And then I started bleeding again. It was then I realized I had pushed my body too far, and decided to wait until my six-week checkup to exercise again—just like I should have in the first place.

I got the all-clear at that checkup on June 11, then went for my first postpartum run the very same day. I alternated one minute of running with one minute of walking for 30 minutes, with a 13:07 pace overall. 

I felt great, but certain body parts definitely jiggled in a way they never had before. I must have either fed Evie or pumped right before I left, but my chest was still… a factor… in my running that I’d never experienced before. The larger sports bra I’d worn throughout my pregnancy was laughably way too small now that I was feeding a hungry baby, so I bought a Fiona bra at a local Brooks outlet store to keep everything nice and strapped in.

Side note: Now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to have a larger chest, I have major sympathy for ladies who have dealt with that their whole lives. It’s a real pain in the ass. I nursed for 13 months, so it’s been about four months since we stopped and I am thrilled to be back in my pre-baby bras.

I ran/walked a few times a week until the end of July, when Evie was 12 weeks old and I went back to work. I should also mention that Aaron and I did Whole30 during the month of July. I was inspired by Cely writing good things about it, and I really needed to do something to clean up my eating and gain some body confidence before going back to work.

I was particularly mortified by this photo taken in June, where I still looked quite pregnant. 

I was less than two months postpartum, so of course I recognize now that looking like this is totally normal and perfectly fine. But I also wasn’t eating very well at the time, and knew I could do better and feel better in the process.

I did a lot of research before starting Whole30 about how to do it as a nursing mother, and about whether or not it would impact my milk supply. (Please do your own research and talk to your doctor about what’s right for you; don’t go by my decisions!) Typically snacking between meals is discouraged while doing Whole30, but nursing moms are free and encouraged to snack whenever they need to. 

I also read many accounts from moms who said that Whole30 either had no impact on their milk supply or actually increased it. Whole30 is all about eating real, unprocessed, nutrient-rich, calorie-dense foods, so it made sense to me that it would only improve the quality and/or quantity of milk. I obviously can’t be a judge of quality, but I can report that I experienced no negative impact to my supply. In fact, July was the month I really focused on pumping as much as I could to build up my stash of frozen milk before going back to work, and I was able to do that just fine.

By the end of the month, I had lost eight pounds, was sleeping better (when I was able to; I was still waking up several times a night) and had so much more energy in general. Whole30 was a great success, and I went back to work feeling awesome!

I was much happier with this family photo, taken in mid-August. That’s a whole pre-baby outfit! (All made of stretchy knits, but still.)

I had always been pretty sure I wanted to go back to work—I enjoyed my creative job and just never pictured myself as a stay-at-home mom—but I still cried leading up to my return. I knew it was the end of the first phase of Evie’s life, when her mom was around 24/7 to take care of her, and the time had gone by so quickly. It felt like I was losing something I’d never get back. I get teary-eyed even now thinking of those feelings.

But the first day I went back to the office, I knew I’d made the right decision. I still missed my baby like hell, and fumbled my way through pumping three times a day while trying to catch up on everything that had happened at work while I was gone, but it felt so good to be showered and dressed in real clothes and doing grown-up work with other grown-ups. 

I have so much respect for stay-at-home moms; it is truly one of the most difficult jobs in the world. It just wasn’t right for our family.

It helped me a lot emotionally that Aaron had a month of paternity leave left to use, so he stayed home with Evie through August before she started daycare. The transition to daycare was pretty rough as she adjusted to being cared for by complete strangers and being around other babies all day, but she was completely settled in after about a month and grew to love it. Even though she’s now in a toddler room, she still loves her teachers from the infant room and will leap into their arms for big hugs whenever she sees them. It’s so sweet.

Anyway, I’m getting off track! After I started back at work, making exercise a priority became a lot more challenging because all I wanted to do when I got home was snuggle my baby. More often than not, I chose to do just that—which was totally the right decision. Even though in those early days, when you’re barely sleeping, it feels like your baby will be a squishy, helpless, cuddly little thing forever, that stage goes by so fast. Everyone says it, and it’s annoying, but it’s true. I’m glad I savored every chance to have my little squishy baby take a sweet, open-mouthed nap on me.

Evie began sleeping through the night around six months old, after several grueling nights (weeks? who knows) of letting her cry for certain amounts of time and then comforting her until she learned to soothe herself back to sleep.

This. Was. A. Game-changer.

Evie now had a predictable bedtime and was (almost always) guaranteed to sleep for 12 hours, so I knew I had plenty of free time to work out once she was down. We had also just bought our house and moved to a different town, so I enjoyed going on short runs to explore the new area.

Still, I struggled with the transition to fall—colder temps, more rain, and nights that became dark earlier. Looking back on my GPS records, I didn’t run for the entire month of September… and also for another entire month between Thanksgiving and Christmas. (I decided to embrace the holiday season and just go all-out with eating and being lazy).

When 2017 rolled around, Aaron and I decided to do another round of Whole30 as a post-holiday reset. I lost another five pounds in January and effectively kicked my sugar cravings.

My friend Hallie invited me to join her team for a relay in April, so I had an actual goal to motivate me to run on a regular basis. The fact that I’d be part of a team of five women was a big motivator because I didn’t want to be the out-of-shape weak link.

This post is getting veryyy long, so I’ll save the rest of my relay prep and the race itself for the next one!

In the meantime, you can catch up on my running and exercise in real time on Instagram @dev.on.running.

[amorphousalien]

So, not that literally anyone cares, but here's the deal with that person that was harassing me all week. Waay back in the good ol days of mid 2015 (sarcasm, fuck 2015)- I was experiencing a lot of really intense, frequent Rick shifts that were making me near catatonically depressed and dissociated. After seeing the season 2 finale, they just got worse. So I opted to unfollow all the r/n/m blogs I was following, stay out of the tags, stop looking canonmates, etc pretty much everything but actually taking Rick off my kinlist because I wasn't coping with it well and I needed to take a break. I even put on several pages of my blog that I did not want /anyone/ kin from ric/kandmorty contacting me because at the time it was basically a trigger. Then I start getting messages fromsomeome kin with M/orty, asking to talk to me, compare memories, etc. I told them I didn't want to talk to anyone, that it was triggering, etc. I accidentally posted one of their asks publically instead of privately, because mobile sux, and wound up getting a slew of TERRIFYING messages from them saying shit like "How could you do this to me?? I trusted you!! You exposed us!! How could you do this why would you do this to us?? I'm going to have to delete my tumblr because of you, how could you do this, we trusted you!" I panicked, deleted the ask, apologized profusely, and was generally successfully guilt tripped into allowing this person to continue messaging me and probing me for information about my Rick kintype. For maybe 6 months, they continued talking to me. I would ignore them for as long as I could, but eventually caved and replied to them out of boredom or fear, or they'd send me a slew of guilt trippy messages apologizing for bothering me, saying they were such an awful person, they always did this, everyone hates them etc etc etc. After 6 months, I was accepted to Job Corps and told them I was leaving for school and would have no internet access until I graduated. About four months into school l, my parents bought me a phone and were paying for my service. I logged back into tumblr to find about twenty "Hey"s and "Hi"s and "Oh my god I'm so sorry I know you hate me I just don't know what to do I'm so awful I'm sorry for bothering you"s in my messages from them. I told them I was in school and wouldn't have time to message them very often. I wanted them to just leave me alone, but I didn't want to be outright mean and they weren't taking the hint that I didn't want to talk to them. Or maybe they were and that's why they'd send me that guilt trippy bullshit every few weeks. And unfortunately I was an anxious wreck having just escaped multiple physically, memtally, emotionally, and sexually abusive relationships at this point. So I was easily manipulated and desperate for friendship. Which they knew. I'd mentioned it briefly and had vented about it multiple times on my kin blog. Anywho. I came back from school after about 6 months. Tumblr had dome some weird update and I couldn't log into my account anymore (except from my ipad where I was still logged in). I remade my account and directed everyone to my new kin blog (this one). I'd kinda forgotten about them at this point, but when I remade my blog they started messaging me again. I was pretty worn down and still pretty desperate for friends. I was recovering from the depressive Rick shifts and started talking to them more and more about our canons, and eventually decided we were canonmates. By the time we'd 'known' each other for about a year, they'd mentioned to me multiple times that they were living in an abusive situation and needed to get out. Three things about that last sentence. 1. *Known: Our entire relationship was one of us (mostly them) messaging the other every few days, or even every couple of weeks, to say "Hey"-"Hi"-"How are you"-"Fine, you?"-"I'm ok" and then maybe they'd complain (extremely vaguely) about something going on at home. 2. Everything they said about their abuse was extremely vague. The most detail I could ever get was that the house they were living in was not being maintained and there was never any food. Which they blamed on their parents despite being a 20 year old adult. 3. I'd spent hours trying to give them help getting out. I looked up resource centers in their area, homeless shelters, disability, food stamps, offered to write their resume for them, etc etc etc. I was practically offering to do everything for them to get them on their feet, and they shot down my advice every single time. Around 11 months into our friendship, they told me they couldn't take being there anymore and they were going to run away. They didn't know where they were going, didn't care, kept talking about being homeless and living on the streets to get away from where they were now. So I told them to come to Colorado (where I live) so I could at least offer help in person. November of 2016, they bought a bus ticket and came to Colorado. I picked them up and took them to my apartment (a three bedroom townhouse I shared with three roommates. They were all upstairs, I lived in a sectioned off half-room behind the living room). At the time, I was working 40 hours a week at a thrift store making about 9$/h. This job was not only tearing my already chronically ill body apart, but was also causing weekly psychotic episodes and mental breakdowns. I was 3000$ in debt with my roommates. My rent was 400$/month and I was making maybe 700$/month. Even so. I was using all of my spare money feeding them, buying them a tracphone and service, toiletries, clothes, etc etc Despite how much I was spending on them, they were still asking for more food, expensive food, cigarettes, alcohol, and weed. And if I didn't say yes, they'd spiral into depressive episodes, hiding either in my room, the living room, or the bathroom, and cry. And then ask again twenty minutes later. Over. And over again. Until I said yes. They talked 24/7. Literally. 24/7. From the SECOND I came home from work til I went to bed. And frequently came into my room multiple times throughout the night to ask for cigarettes and weed. Despite the fact that I had to wake up at 6am for work. It got to the point where, despite being in constant physical pain and despite the mental break downs, I was volunteering for overtime at work every single day to afford to keep them fed and to just fucking avoid their non stop talking and guilt tripping. And this was not non stop conversing. It was non stop THEM talking. I didn't exist. I could not get a word in. They didn't expect me to reply except for an occasional "Isn't that funny/weird?" or "Do you ever do that that??". I basically clocked out mentally any time I was home. I wasn't a person to them. I was just expected to listen quietly to their thousand and one stories. I already made posts back when this started about what happened while they lived with me, so I'm not gonna go into any more detail. I don't remember most of it anyways. It was such an incredibly stressful point in my life, I developed a new alter in my system. I was rarely fronting. It was so bad, the alter that /never/ fronts, had to take over to deal with what was happening. This person has been stalking me from the second they found my blog, and five months after I kicked them out and blocked them, they're still stalking me. I had to install an ip tracker on my blog. They were checking my blog damn near 20 times a day and sending me 10 or more messages every day. I barely posted half of what I got. I was even so desperate as to text their mom to beg for help. I wanted this to end before it started. I never wanted to know them. I want nothing to do with them. I don't want to be dealing with this. I am an asocial agoraphobic shut-in. I don't want any part of this. I don't care what happens to them. I don't care what happens to Rain or Darcy or the 'KuroNekoClan'. All I was is for this to be over. I want to be left alone. I want to finish repressing everything about them. I want them to completely disappear from my memory. I have never hated nor been so terrified of someone as I am in regards to this person. I'm gonna go back to radio silence on this blog for a few more days just to be sure they're not still checking it. Everyone can still PM and I'll still reply to asks, but I'm not gonna be posting on here til I feel safe.

[catandbean]

NYC - Day 2 (22/3/17)

We had an amazing sleep in today at the Forgies and woke up refreshed to tackle the city. We headed over to Trader Joes to stock up on supplies (seriously that place is epic) and had a leisurely breakfast. All of this relaxing did not prepare us well for the icy chill of Manhattan. The temperature was floating around 0 and the wind was bitter. Nevertheless we caught the subway right into the middle of town and began a walking tour that Sam had prepared which would enable us to see all of the highlights of Mid-town. 

Midtown is essentially a grid of massive streets and boulevards lined with huge buildings, all in different ages and styles. There are locals, tourists and taxis everywhere, and in the cold steam rose from the grates and gutters of the streets. Very atmospheric and so NYC. The first stop was the Empire State Building which was immense. We took plenty of photos and got as far as the lobby but then decided it wasn't worth paying to go up. Next stop was Macy's, a NYC establishment. It was fine, pretty much just a big shop, but what did we expect. After that we headed to the New York Public Library, which was a pretty cool stately building, and onto the Rockefeller centre, which we had read had the best views + Luc said was a must. We were not disappointed. After going through an exhibition relating to the building, Mr Rockerfeller himself, and his art collection, we headed to the viewing platform called the Top of the Rock. This had amazing 360 degree views of the city across to the Empire State Building and financial district to the South and Central Park to the north. The best views were to be had from the very top of the building, but it was outside and actually painfully cold so we got some quick snaps and got out of there asap. 

At this point it became apparent that it was a pretty shit day for a walking tour. We agreed to cut our losses and after a late lunch of hotdog and burger at King of Kobyu (epic) in Hells Kitchen we headed to the Chelsea markets to explore and meet the Forgies. This was a welcome reprieve from midtown as it was slightly more chilled in every respect with much less tourists clogging the streets (aside from us). When the Forgies arrived we shared a bottle of wine and bought some Mexican food from the markets. We then headed to Sleep No More, a show that the Forgies and Sally Spry had booked for our wedding present.

Sleep no more probably needs its own blog entry. The show is set in an enormous 6 level building, that contains amongst those levels several forests, an insane asylum, houses, studies, libraries, shops, a banquet hall and more. The set is stunning and i can't imagine how much work went into it. The show itself is a version of Macbeth but crossed with various Alfred Hitchcock novels, so the characters are dressed in 19th century clothing. When you arrive at the building you are ushered into an old school bar and given a mask which you are to wear the entire show. You are told not to talk. You are then led to an elevator and sent out into the building. The show takes 1 hour but it repeats itself 3 times with a big finale at the end. However it takes place all over the 6 storey building so you are likely to only catch snippets of the story and see certain characters each time around.

It is recommended that you seperate from your group and have your own experience of the show, which we did. Here are our accounts:

Cat’s experience

I started looking around the building and came across a nurse who was scrubbing blood from some item of clothing and looked very distressed. All of a sudden she jumped up and started storming around the building, going into bathrooms to look at herself and then into a study where she started cutting up pieces of a book. She then headed to this forest area and started walking carefully. There was another nurse who looked in a trance and was writing something on a tree with chalk. All of a sudden she collapsed and the first nurse helped her up and took her to this little cabin in the forest filled with cuttings from a book. The first nurse comforted her on this rocking chair but all of a sudden the chair started rocking violently and the first nurse freaked out and ran away. The second nurse watched her leave and then gestured to an audience member (there were about 3 of us watching) to come into the cabin, and then locked the door and windows. I then started roaming around the building myself watching some of the main action, although annoyingly the main characters usually had massive crowds of people around them. I then headed upstairs and saw this actress just standing there. I walking over to her and she led me upstairs to the 6th floor. I have since found out that you can only get up there by invitation and my experience there was crazy. She told me that she recognised me and had not seen me in so long. She then started talking about times we shared at Mandalay Bay (I have since learned this is a passage from Hitchcocks book Rebecca). At one point she was talking about an orange moon, and all of a sudden it went pitch black and there was a glowing moon at the back of the room, and she threw some burning paper into the air. Then the lights came back on and there was an old wheelchair at the back of the room. She gestured for me to sit in it which I did and then she started to lead me down this hallway. All of a sudden a recorded voice started repeating the monologue of mandalay bay and I noticed that above me was a perfect miniature replica of the various floors of the building that we wet in. The girl then freaked out and grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair and started running back down the corridor to the door, which was pretty full on. She gave me a massive hug and said we can never go back to Mandalay Bay.

After that intense experience I started wandering around the building again, catching some of the main action. When I was in the forest I came across the nurse again in a trance writing on the tree. I knew this scene and where the audience member who had been pulled into the cabin had been standing so I followed the action and stood there. Sure enough I got pulled in. The experience was also super weird and intense, but awesome. The nurse smiled at me and took off my mask. She then offered me tea and fed it to me with a spoon. She then looked at my wrist and freaked out. She told me a story about a boy who was born on earth alone with no parents, he went to the moon to find people but it was rotting wood, went to the stars but they were insects caught in the sky etc. she said he is still there now. Then she hugged me and told me she hoped I would be ok, and let me out of the cabin.

Shortly after I saw Fliss and we basically followed the main action through to the banquet hall, where the grand finale took place (Macbeth was hanged).

Beans experience

Upon entering the magical world Sleep No More i spent the first part exploring the different areas and following a few characters. I watched a pretty messed up fight/sexual dance scene and then one of the witches lead me away to a phone and made me pick it up while kind of fondelling my breasts. I looked around the floors a bit more walking in to rooms empty and filled with strange bird taxidermy and an entire sweet shop alone and then came across a fight in a bar which involved a lot of nakedness and man on man action and a naked man in a shower who I helped to dress and continued to follow him around. I ended up at the blood rave which various actors, including MacBeth and the witches dance around naked smearing blood on one another sexually and holding up a dead baby, all to intense house music and strobe lights. I bumped in to Sam towards the end and we missioned around for a bit ending up in the banquet hall for the finale. It was an intense but amazing 3 hours. We headed back to Brooklyn sharing our stories from the night.