#AND before y’all come at me and say oh stats??? it’s easy isn’t it

[folklore-girl]

stats just got 10x more difficult imma cry

[legendsgates]

Underrated SCP List

I’ve decided to create an updated list of my favorite relatively-unknown skips, as well as other articles I think more people should know about. I’m leaving out the more popular ones like 682 or 049, since it’s easy to find and get info about those. These are SCPs that, tragically, tend to get overlooked.

Normal SCPs

SCP-001 (Dr Mann’s Proposal) The real juicy stuff here isn’t in the file itself, it’s in the attached O5-clearance document. And good lord, the implications give me chills.

SCP-001 (S Andrew Swann’s Proposal) It’s us.

SCP-370 (A Key) Don’t look. Don’t look. DON’T LOOK.

SCP-408 (Illusory Butterflies) The booooterflies! Kondraki’s best friends :3

SCP-413 (Endless Garage) SCPs can play pranks too.

SCP-447 (Ball of Green Slime) Could also be named ‘Too Bad We Can’t Market This’. I would recommend reading the experiment log.

SCP-504 (Critical Tomatoes) You know the trope where bad actors and comedians get tomatoes thrown at them? Well...

SCP-507 (Reluctant Dimension Hopper) Poor 507! He hasn’t been the same since he came back from 99P-UT1-24J. Or 952-7YD-ABBA, for that matter. Read the log!

SCP-597 (The Mother of Them All) This one is either incredibly unsettling, weirdly soothing to think about, or a godawful mixture of both.

SCP-632 (Intrusive Arachnid Thoughts) Arachnophobe’s Worst Nightmare. Don’t read if you’re scared of spiders.

SCP-743 (A Chocolate Fountain) …At least they get a good meal first?

SCP-939 (With Many Voices) Thorough and creepy. Especially 939-101! I can’t tell whether I should be scared or pitying. Do not read if people getting eaten freaks you out, and don’t read the ‘scp-939 reproduction’ page if decapitation (or internal parasites, possibly) is a squick.

SCP-1155 (Predatory Street Art) I would like to see who would win between this and 173.

SCP-1171 (Humans Go Home) To borrow the words of tumblr user @arctic-chameleonus​... my thembro Beauremont got fucking catfished.

SCP-1459 (The Puppy Machine) Once you get past the inherent horror of the scenario, the test log is actually pretty damn funny. Or maybe I’m just nuts.

SCP-1545 (Larry the Loving Llama) Guys, stop calling him by all those different names - his name’s Larry.

SCP-1730 (What Happened to Site-13?) This one is a long, horrifying read - and it’s absolutely breathtaking. If you have time to kill and a taste for human corruption at its worst, come take a look!

SCP-2316 (Field Trip) You do not recognize the bodies in the water.

SCP-2357 (The Perfect SCP) The resignation letter of a Foundation employee... who specialized in memes and infohazards. If you’re not familiar with the Foundation-standard usage of those words, this is an easy and fun article to get a taste.

●●|●●●●●|●●|●

SCP-2662 (cthulhu f'UCK OFF!) I feel so bad for them, they just want to be left a l o n e

SCP-2703 (For a Good Time Call) She’s so friendly and helpful, stop screaming when she appears! You were the one who called her and she just wants to help you have a good time!

SCP-3008 (A Perfectly Normal, Regular Old IKEA) It’s an IKEA - a totally normal, nonanomalous one. Not sure why it’s on the site.

SCP-3636 (World's Greatest Jukebox) Please screen the title and lyrics very closely before you try to play anything. And don’t even touch anything on the blacklist.

Joke SCPs

SCP-006-J / SCP-006-CU-EX (WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING / Cuddly Cwawies) BUGS! Read that in whatever inflection you desire.

SCP-048-J (Negative Probability Phrase) I swear, if you jinx us-

SCP-076-J (IN OWN WORDS) Totally not Able, fellow meat-slaves!

SCP-666-J (Dr. Gerald's Driving Skills) OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH FUCK OH GOD OH GO

SCP-900-J (Modern Major Keter-Class) i’m sorry I can’t do this one justice

SCP-1543-J (The Sun Launcher) When in doubt, toss it into the sun.

Group-of-Interest Format

The Serpent’s Hand

A Love Letter to a Lady Mantis - and its sequel, A Wedding Gift for a Lady Mantis! An adorable romance. Don’t read if you’re scared of bugs.

Hello, I am an Eldritch Horror - You'll want to familiarize yourself with SCP-426 (I am a Toaster) first, but this adds a whole new depth to the SCP’s lore.

KoI Format - God is a fish.

Shark-Punching Center

SPC-001, Uncle Nicolini's Proposal... Maybe. (It's Lonely At The Top, says the article third from the top.) Once something becomes too easy it’s not even worth doing anymore, right?

SPC-172-J (”Sword Sharks?!”, Never Bring a Fist to a Spear Fight) Y’all need to update your shark-identification guide, stat. And maybe don’t punch it right where the horn is. However, I must say I like your style of protocol naming.

Story

A Lesson in Power - Broken Masquerade canon. A gun is only so intimidating when you work with SCPs.

Ethical? - Broken Masquerade canon. There’s going to be a change in the Foundation’s hierarchy, now that they’re forced into the light.

Ethics Committee Orientation - Isn’t the Ethics Committee, like, a myth?

Tales of the Ethics Committee: The Foundation Eats Babies - How do you choose who lives and who dies? To quote Agent Strauss, “We’re a bit beyond trolley problems here.”

Termination_Order - How to execute someone who can turn you into spaghetti with a thought. This one gets dark - warning for rape mentions.

Transcript of Dr. Clef's seminar, "Reality Benders and You: How to Survive When Existence Doesn't." - Fucking Clef. That asshole.

Exceptional Cases Which Do Not Quite Fit Into Any Of The Aforementioned Categories

Abundance - this story is actually on the Wanderer’s Library site and doesn’t mention the foundation, but the slowly-growing unease turning to gradual horrified and/or disgusted understanding would make some scp articles proud.

The Ship In A Bottle Hub - Please. Please read it. At least the intro - it will show exactly what to expect.

[Edit: most recent addition to this post can be found here]

[volturialice]

Spork Haven chapter 8: King fucking Lear

welcome to spork haven, where I spork the EL James fic you’ve never heard of

previous chapter | next chapter | contents

real quick before we do a Previously On I need to warn y’all about what’s coming in this chapter because holy shit

in the grand tradition of Stephenie Meyer, EL James makes a Shakespeare reference. but in the grand tradition of EL James, it’s completely horrifying (and hilarious)

but it isn’t so bad in hindsight because right before that we get the WORST, the very W O R S T,  title drop of all time

if you’re brave enough to read on I just hope you’re prepared for the snakes that will physically manifest in your house. you’ve been warned

previously on Spork Haven:

actor!Edward and hotel maid!Bella went on a date! Bella is a cello-playing orphaned virgin who is definitely in the Witness Protection Program! The paparazzi may have gotten a picture of Bella! Edward and Bella are gonna bang!

chapter 8 is pretty much entirely smut so it is [gag] very hard to read but very easy to summarize.

Edward is, as usual, profoundly horny, but he tells himself “not to be such a fucking Neanderthal” because since finding out that Bella is a virgin he “needs to get her aroused” because he doesn’t want to hurt her (was he going to fail to arouse her and then hurt her if she wasn’t a virgin? ok erika)

Edward begins by taking off Bella’s shoes and she reacts like it’s the sexiest goddamn thing that has ever happened to anyone.

mmm...shoes. 

then he takes off her socks...but in excruciating detail!

and this is around the point where I was like ‘jesus fuck erika how long is this going to take’ and I definitely jinxed myself

anyway. throughout the undressing process, Bella is

which. I know “bloody” is British slang and not meant literally but in this context it kind of sounds like she’s just been biting her lip so much that it’s now bleeding all over the place. charming.

just when things are heating up, Edward carries Bella into the bedroom and we get the weirdest non-sequitur imaginable:

if y’all’ve read 50 shades of grey, this weird fixation on food and feeding your lover will sound familiar! except (and I can’t believe I’m about to compliment 50 shades) at least in that story, there was a starvation backstory that made christian’s fixation on food make a shred of sense. here it’s just...bizarre and out of place. they literally just ate lunch, for fuck’s sake.

anyway the sentences in here range from disgusting to cliché to bafflingly weird. for example, bella’s bellybutton tastes “like fucking Christmas” (because who hasn’t wanted to fuck Christmas? nothin sexier than Christmas.) 

we discover that, in keeping with Pure ‘N Virginal™ EL James heroines, Bella has never so much as masturbated, and Edward thinks that’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. magnanimous soul that he is, he fingers her a bit and then mansplains masturbation until at last we reach the sentence

which I could not help but hear in Owen Wilson’s voice. you’re welcome

is it just me or does Edward’s use of “wow” here imply that his partners usually don’t come? good one erika lmao

anyway, now it’s time for some penetration! Edward continues to explain sex to Bella in the most patronizing possible way. he sounds like a middle school heath teacher and a victorian mother at the same time and it’s about as sexy as it sounds, which is to say not at all. then we get the hilarious return of Personifying Edward’s Dick. his dicksona, if you will.

ok then.

but at last, we get down to business. Edward slowly pushes in, as you do, and then. and then.

it happens.

the sentence. the worst sentence.

“a safe fucking haven... 

....for me and my dick”

a safe fucking haven for me and my dick

A SAFE FUCKING HAVEN 

FOR ME AND MY DICK

erika...oh erika...do you mean to fucking tell me...that the ‘safe haven’ of the title...was Bella’s vagina all along?

THE SAFE HAVEN WAS BELLA’S PUSSY ALL ALONG

just for reference, like just so y’all know, there have actually been a few other title drops before this. but always, when the phrase “safe haven” popped up before now, it was referencing Edward’s hotel room. this one, though? this one feels like the Thesis™ of the story. like obviously Bella was always going to be the safe haven but nope, erika just had to take it a step further

kill me.

anyway, Edward and Bella have sex, there are many gross sentences and implications but they have nothing on that title drop, Edward finally (at last!) gets to suck on Bella’s earrings, and then, when Edward is trying not to come too quickly, we get this delightful paragraph:

some quick background: I am a Shakespeare Bitch. his image is plastered all over my bedroom, my fridge, my car, and my heart. I have an encyclopedic knowledge of his life and works. I have been in King Lear.

which is why I can’t help but wonder...why exactly does Edward know King Lear’s storm monologue? did he, a 24-year-old, play oldass geriatric King Lear at some point?

yes obviously he could have been in a high school production like I was where there were no actual old man actors to cast, but tbh I am having the time of my fucking life imagining an early twenties RPattz playing Lear in old man prosthetics

don’t come crying to me about this horrifying image, it’s nothing compared to the horrifying title drop you just read.

anyway, back to the smut! when at last Edward runs out of Shakespeare monologues and Arsenal stats, we are treated to what might be the dumbest description of an orgasm ever written:

emptying...his soul. 

hey good news @ canon!Edward, you can stop worrying about your soul! turns out it was in your balls the entire time! the soul is in the testicles! what was that edward? edward? oh he hung up

and thus concludes chapter 8! may I suggest treating yourself to a nice Snake Rack for all the snakes that just manifested physically in your home?

be sure to organize your snakes by size and color according to the konmari method

a̴̧̛̩̖̰̫̲̮̙̓͊̐̄̿͝ ̵̧̦̠̪͚̫͌͐͜ş̷̳̝͔̖̲̟̀̑̆̓̋͂̓a̷͙̙̝̫͂͂͛̊́́̎́̕̕̚f̷̪͎̰́̆̊͊͌̿̄̃͛́́̂͑͆e̵̪̜̻̱̗̭̤̬͙̥͔͉̘̼̓̾̑̽̀̕͘͠ ̵̧̟̤̃̐̎͌̔͋f̵̧̡̭̭̘̰̹̹̼̬̳͎́ͅͅư̴̢̯̗̲̱̣͍̪̦̰̾̈͌̿͛̿̏̓͘͜͜c̷͙̦̳̗̀̀͐̒́̍͒̚̚k̴̡͕̩̗͇̪̘̥͊́ͅͅi̶̦̘̎̊̂̒ͅn̵̦̪͙̪͓̓͌̌͐̈́͗͂͠ͅg̶̡̳͔̳̻̻͖̩̤̹̜͖̺͆̈́͛͂̆͑̃̃̑͌̔̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̜͉̱͉̆̎̋h̷̛̟̽̀̚̚a̷̹̠̺̤̘̲̪̤̾͂̈́͂̋̐̅̑̎̄̚͘v̵̧͓̫̯͇̼͖͎̭͎̿̒̊͑̕͜͝e̷̢̛̲̱̭̙̭͂͐̈ǹ̴̛̩̦̯̹͇̰̒ ̶̨̡͈̤̫̼͉͖̮̬͎͖͋̿̄̍̀̈́͝͝f̷̝̞̤͙̤͖͕̖͐̏̋̑̇͗́͑̈́̕ͅo̷̢̱̠̳̞̰̺̩̙̔̐̅̀̓̒̈͑̅̈́͝͝͠r̸̨̢̼̺͖̬̱̹̠̻̽̅̏͊͗͋͑̅̕̚ ̵͚̤͎̜̆̋̏̋̔̔̊́̾m̸͎̫͙̼͈̖͍̜̯̻̝̝͔̍̔̈́̉͆͛́́͝ȩ̶̺͓̪̳̫̞̳͖̝͇̪̩͎͌̓́́͊̓͆̂̑̎̾̚͝͝͠ ̶̧̬̠̳͇̠̤̦̑̍̋̊̉̋̓á̶̯͚͒̏̃̿̈́͒͌̿͝͝n̴̨̡̟͓̟̖͓̪̗̼̩̞̣̻̰̔̈́̿̑̌̅̋̈́̒̔̅͋̚͝͠ḑ̴̧̡̱̲̱̮̻͎̩̼̺́͂̅̽̈́ͅ ̵̭͙͙͍̞̝̥́m̴̨̝̠͔̲̺̺̜͙͗̒ŷ̷̛̜̳͓̹̹͔̻̥̗̔̈́͐͐̀̀̏̐̚͜͜͝͝ ̶̯̮͙̆͆̀̓̉d̷̛̗̮͂̂̇̊͊̊͊̊̚͝í̶̡̗̠̘̜͙͓̟̙̼̱̌́̈́̾̑̅͂̉̐͐͊ç̸͙̳̠̞̣̙̥͎̣͓̠̝̟̾̈́ḳ̸̮͈͇̏̑̈́͘͜

best “fucks”

over-fucking-whelming (the temptation)

a fucking go signal for my dick (a gasp)

best “shits”

happy and shit (edward)

next chapter: the fucking inquisition

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Hi CJ, I have a question. I'll understand if you don't want to answer it, but what are your thoughts about the fighting about Lou and Vi that keeps happening? Do you think thier routes are unequal? I keep seeing posts about ppl insisting that the devs favor Vi and ppl getting nasty towards her about it. I love Louis and sometimes I agree with the posts but they are so mean about it that it makes me feel bad. You don't have to answer but I'd like to know your thoughts on the whole thing. Thank u

…….Sigh.

Okay. 

Anon, I’m sorry that it’s taken me a while to get back to you, given all the things I’ve had weighing down on me recently about my blog and life outside the fandom.

I answered this already and was ready to post it but then erased everything. When I reread it to make sure it was alright, I said, “Yeah, okay, that’s really nice and positive and… I don’t like it.”  So, let me try again and get what’s really on my mind off my chest. 

Basically, there’s a difference between being positive and being fake, and that answer I gave you originally was fake. 

You guys know that I like to remain mostly positive about everything on this blog. I don’t tolerate hate towards each other or towards myself. I rarely answer hate anons, if ever. I don’t start shit with other blogs because they happen to disagree with me on one little thing. 

Yeah, I get mad about things and complain and be anything but positive when it comes to topics such as Mitch’s death, Lilly’s character just in general, the flaws with ep4′s ending, ect. If you’ve been here a while, you know what I’m talking about.

When I talk about positivity, I mean it more in a way that I like to focus on the good within the fandom while also discussing things I would’ve liked within the series or things I didn’t like and would’ve changed, certain ‘what if’ scenarios. I try to do these things with a kind and optimistic outlook while also allowing myself to be truthful in how I feel. 

What I’m trying to say is I try to be a good person on here. I try to be nice, respectful and encourage you guys to create good things within the community and get invested in these characters and other topics. 

However, I also firmly believe in honesty. 

You asked for my opinion on this topic? Okay. I’ve yet to ever give a fake answer and I’m not starting now. 

If you’re new here: Hello. My name is CJ and I am a Louis/Clouis blog who loves twdg and discussing all the different characters, ships, and story elements within the game. I’m about to talk about some stuff with full honesty that it may get me some hate but y’know what? I don’t care, we’re gonna discuss it anyway. 

What are my thoughts on the constant fight between Louis/Clouis and Violet/Violentine?

It’s a waste of time. 

There are so many talented people out there who are wasting their energy on sending hate to each other, making nasty posts about the developers, shitting on the characters and the community, and then constantly wondering why this fandom is so damn negative.

I made an instagram account a long time ago for this blog where I started posting my favorite screenshots of Louis and posts from this blog. I followed the #twdglouis and #clouis tags and was seeing a lot of great things until I wasn’t anymore. 

I don’t post on instagram anymore because it’s a shitshow of hate. What’s new in the #clouis tag? Violentine hate. What’s new in the #twdglouis tag? Violet hate. 

I don’t know if y’all know this, but if I’m in any of the Louis tags, it’s because I want to see some good Louis content. OBVIOUSLY.

I swear, if these people sat down, took ALL of that energy they’re using for this nonsense and put it towards the thing they claimed to love, we would have the most amazing content of any fandom out there. I would be able to check the louis tags every day and see brand new, beautiful artwork and read amazing stories. 

But no.

 As for your second question, that’s where my honesty really comes into play.

Do I think Louis and Violet’s routes are unequal?

Yeah, I do. 

I think Violet’s romance has a few more things to offer than Louis’.

When you go fishing with Violet and Brody, you don’t get a choice- you have to hang out with Violet. 

If you go hunting with Louis and Aasim, you have to choose Louis if you want to hang out with him. 

Brody mentions that she hasn’t seen Violet warm up to someone like she has Clem in a long time. 

Not a single person mentions anything about Louis in regards to Clem coming along. 

Violet stands up for Clementine in ep2 no matter what you do. She takes on the leader position and you can imply that she and Clementine spent the most time together during the two week time skip, making their romance feel more balanced and understandable.

Louis is still on iffy terms with Clementine and you can imply that they barely speak until their talk during the archery practice, making their romance feel rushed and questionable. 

Violet’s romance has a star gazing mini-game.

Louis’ romance does not have a mini-game. 

Violet makes Clementine a pin so that they can remember that night because it was easy to retexture one of Violet’s pin and have Clementine wear it.

Louis can’t give Clementine anything because the idea of a piano key necklace was scrapped even though they could’ve made a small model for it for her to wear. 

I’m sure there are more, and yeah if I’m being completely 100% honest with you? It does bother me sometimes and it’s okay if it bothers you, Anon. What really matters is what you do with those feelings. 

Because y’know what?

Just because I can play a mini-game in Violet’s route doesn’t make me like her more Louis, but it also doesn’t make me want to spam hate posts about her. 

Complaining and whining and talking shit about the developers because so many believe Violet is favored over Louis isn’t going to do anything. 

Melissa saying she prefers violentine doesn’t make me want to drop everything clouis because “Oh Melissa said it so it’s canon even though we went over this her word doesn’t mean anything.” 

Sterling not being on the commentary while Gideon is doesn’t mean anything. 

The ending stats don’t mean anything. 

The hateful people on here and instagram don’t mean anything. 

None of it means anything. 

The only thing that means something is you and how you deal with this.

Clouis is the love of my life, as I’ve said many times. 

I love Violet. I think she’s a great character and I appreciate the happiness she and violentine have brought to many people in our community. 

All the things listed above? They may bother me sometimes, but I can and have written fanfics that have solved this problem. I’ve talked with you guys about it, talked about how I will be forever bitter about a lack of piano mini-game while also sharing cute headcanons and gushing about the wonderful clouis moments we do get in canon. I’ve read amazing clouis fanfics and admired beautiful fanart. 

I don’t pick fights, I don’t write hate posts, I don’t shit on the devs [although I will admit that I’ve thrown my fair share of shade at Kent but that was over Mitch’s death so that’s completely different right? …Right?]  or throw little baby tantrums because someone said something I don’t like or someone doesn’t like Louis or WHATEVER. 

I focus on better things, like this blog, you guys, Louis, Clouis, and many other better things. 

Anon, as I’ve said before, all this nonsense is just that: nonsense and a waste of time. It’s okay to feel the way you do but I encourage you to take those feelings a create something better with them. If you, or anyone, ever want to talk about this more, feel free to DM me. If something like this is bothering you, I am more than happy to try and help you. 

Alright, that’s enough brutal honesty for one night. 

I don’t think I’ve ever admitted to thinking that about the different routes so I’m a little nervous about that, but I’m also not going to pretend that I think they’re equal just to remain neutral and “positive.” It’s actually kind of cathartic to get it off my chest… huh. 

God, I hope this post got across everything I tried to say because I don’t want to rewrite it again.

Also, drinking game: take a shot every time I say positive or a variation of honest. 

Unless your underage. Then use apple juice or something. 

I don’t know what I’m typing anymore ignore me

[jawnjendes]

something more than me | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf. if there’s anything else yall wanna see regarding this series, let me know!

masterlist | series playlist

These days, the only way you could get me out of the dorm room apart from class and work was if you needed a buddy to travel with at night. What I’m trying to say is my roommate, Stella, wanted to go to a coffee shop after the sun went down. She would have gone alone if it wasn’t in a questionable part of downtown. It was also a coffee shop neither of us had been to before, and it was far from campus. She wanted me to go with her because I was always preaching about travelling in pairs at night.

The only thing is, Stella told me we were going out about fifteen minutes before she intended to head out the door. She was already dressed in a hoodie and leggings, a red beanie over her brown hair. She had her boots on and keys in hand. She was ready, while I was the opposite. The moment I woke up today, I decided to throw the whole day away. No interaction, no makeup, no pants.

“Come on!” Stella snapped, pulling off the comforter I was lying under.

I’ll admit, I was a bit under the weather these days. I had been waiting for a prescription refill on my antidepressants. Sleep evaded me, and when it wasn’t, I was having nightmares. Aside from that, my digestive system was giving me a hard time, which added to the mental stress. Finally, there was the fact that I was still in a gloom from, for lack of a better phrase, “breaking up” with my toxic fuck buddy, Luca. You could imagine how much I did not want to go out tonight.

“Isn’t that place, like, on the other side of town?” I asked, mumbling into my pillow. “Why not just go to Starbucks?”

“Because Shawn and Camila are performing at this place and I promised I’d go!” Stella hastily replied as she reached down to the floor to grab my jeans. “Now get dressed so we can go!”

“I don’t know those people…”

“You know Camila!” My pants were thrown at me. “Cover up your granny panties and let’s go!”

I vaguely knew Camila. She sat in the front of my stats class, always chatting to the professor. I was always in the back, close to the exit, staying as invisible as possible. We weren’t friends.

Stella was persistent, so I rolled out of my small bed and pulled my jeans on. “At least it’s not a bar.”

~

We showed up to the coffee shop after the show had started. People were spilling out the door, but Stella pushed her way in with me on her tail. A boppy tune was booming through the vicinity, and two distinct voices were singing passionately accompanied by an acoustic guitar.

Stella dragged me past the cashier/barista, claiming that there would be time for that later. She stopped near the front of where the singers were; A short girl who was fully jamming to her own song, and a tall guy with a guitar singing beside her.

I knew the short girl was Camila. Who could forget her beauty and voice that was talked about all over campus? I did not recognize the tall curly haired guy, though it was easy to tell he liked the group of girls sitting directly in front of his singing space.

My body was there, but I felt out of place. I thought that only happened at bars and night clubs. I wasn’t fond of being in a crowded space, or out of my dorm. My therapist said it was good for me, though. Being surrounded by strangers is better than being isolated, even if you feel alone in that crowd. Those are her words, not mine.

I snapped back into reality when the song ended and everyone started clapping. I joined in, trying not to look like an obvious stick in the mud. Come on, we can do this.

“Thanks, guys!” said Camila into her microphone. “I’m gonna leave it to my friend Shawn now!”

The girls in front were certainly happy about that. That Shawn guy was too. Must be a Leo.

Stella flagged down her friend as soon as she was offstage. Camila excitedly approached us and hugged us both. I tensed up at the touch, and my nose itched at the scent of her perfume, but she didn’t notice.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” she exclaimed.

I’ve talked to you exactly once.

She and Stella chatted for a little bit before the next song started. Now, instead of holding a guitar and standing at the microphone, Shawn sat down in front of a keyboard set up. I internally prepared to barf at the incoming slow love song.

Thirty seconds into it, I learned to not judge conventionally handsome singers and assume they only live to make ladies swoon. This song was fucking sad and poking at my own wounds.

“You’ve got ahold of me Don’t even know your power I stand a hundred feet But I fall when I’m around you”

I got that cold ache in my chest just like I did two months ago. My throat burned and tightened up. I was immediately sucked into the song, and mildly resenting it. How dare a handsome singing man make a song that I actually like.

Someone hurting you so bad that you’re begging them for mercy… That feeling was my best friend and worst enemy. She knocked the wind out of me many times, so I had to kick her to the curb. You can find the will to leave someone toxic, but no one ever tells you how hard it is to deal with the sadness and aches that come after. I just couldn’t pinpoint why it was happening. I cut off the toxicity, I removed the bad thing. Why was I so fucking sad?

Applause rippled through the crowd as Shawn hit the bridge. I let out a soft breath and clapped as well. This guy certainly knew how to move a crowd with his voice.

“I’m prepared to sacrifice my life, I would gladly do it twice”

If I was the type to smoke cigarettes, I would have stepped outside to do so. My eyes were starting to sweat, so I looked at the floor and tried to suck it up. The toxic ex was making his was into my brain again. It was bad enough I still saw him at work…

The show ended with that last song. Shawn thanked the audience and waved at the girls in front. As soon as he stepped off the stage, everyone in the shop rushed to the barista to order drinks and whatnot. That was when Stella grabbed my wrist and ushered us back outside. Camila followed close behind, her hands on my waist. Didn’t have boundaries, I guess.

“Y’all are getting popular,” Stella said when we were finally out in the chilly night.

Camila was beaming. “Amazing, right? We had no idea it would turn out like this!”

“So when are you and Shawn tying the knot, eh?” Stella nudged her friend.

“Ha! You’re so funny!” Camila replied with an eyeroll. “We’re looking, just not for each other!”

That made Stella smile mischievously, and she glanced at me. “Inch resting.”

The two girls talked some more, while I merely listened. This was still better than being at a bar… Or alone in my dorm for the millionth time on a Saturday night. Maybe I needed someone, or something more than me. Something to push me to… I don’t know? Something better, I suppose. Stella was good at that when she wasn’t in Full Extrovert Mode. I couldn’t demand she always “takes care” of me, though. She deserved a good time as much as anyone else did.

For convenient timing, the singing man emerged from the overcrowded coffee shop. He spotted Camila and joined our circle. He had a drink holder in his hands, and a big smile on his face.

“Hey guys, I brought drinks!” he greeted, looking at all of us. His face was much kinder when it wasn’t hidden by dim lights.

I also couldn’t look directly at him when he gave me a cup. Nope, we’re looking at the ground now, laid ease.

Stella, on the other hand, was not having it with my quiet, introverted ass. She nudged my arm to make me look up and then she properly introduced me to Shawn.

“Oh, you’re the goth roommate!” he said. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Will I ever be able to trust Stella to make me seem like a normal person to other people? Probably not. At least she was trying to get me out of the shell I made for myself.

“You too,” I replied with an awkward smile. “Good set.”

“Thanks. I saw you tearing up in the crowd.”

Fuck.

“That’s impossible, I don’t do tears,” I said without thinking. Okay, edgelord. You’re so edgy. So original.

Shawn chuckled. “Maybe it was the other girl with black lipstick and the Underoath t-shirt.”

And we’re looking at the ground again!

“Hey, aren’t you and Shawn doing the same major?” Stella asked, nudging me once again.

“Music?” Shawn guessed, looking intrigued.

I was puzzled, glancing at Stella once. “Um. No. Psychology.”

“Oops. Had a brain fart.” My insane roommate giggled.

“It’s cool.” Shawn smiled and lied his stupidly cute eyes on me once again. “A psych major, eh? Are you analyzing my every move?”

Funny joke. First time hearing that one.

“No, but I can for three hundred dollars,” I said back.

“Is that how much a shrink is?” Camila piped up.

“No!” Shawn answered. “Free healthcare!”

Yeah… yeah, he got me there.

“Somehow, I still think I’m in the States,” I said timidly.

After that, Stella and Camila strolled down the street. That pretty much ended Stella’s Safe Buddy Duty. I felt quite out of place once again as she babbled away to Camila in Spanish. It’s not that I didn’t speak the language, I just really am as much of a hermit as I’m told.

Shawn thought different as we walked someways behind them. “They always do that in class. You can’t understand them either, eh?”

“¿Y porque piensas eso?” I replied, once again without thought. “Simplemente soy muy callada y casi nunca me salgo de la casa. Nomas estoy un poca incomoda con personas que no conozco.”

“Awesome,” he said after a moment of silence. “So… you’re from the US?”

“Yup. Southern California.”

“What made you want to come all the way over here for college?”

“Simple: I don’t like the desert. Or heat. Or the sun.”

I had my eyes on the sidewalk I stepped on until I realized Shawn hadn’t replied. I looked up only to realize he was looking back at me in disbelief.

“That’s it? You moved countries because of the weather?”

What is he expecting, my life story?

Before I could talk back, Stella piped up from in front of us. “She’s a goth, she’s allergic to the sun!”

“Ah, so it was for your own health,” Shawn replied. “I get it now.”

~

The next time I saw this guy was at a bus stop just outside of campus. I had seen him from where I parked my car, and I secretly hoped he would have forgotten me by now. I made sure to have my headphones on as I walked past him, but he touched my shoulder and stopped me. So much for remaining invisible.

“Do you always look at the floor when you walk?” he asked, amused.

“How else will I know where to step?” I said in return.

He laughed, which was then followed by silence. Why did he stop me? Just to say hi? What kind of fuckery-

“You’re not wearing the black lipstick,” he pointed out.

I shrugged, feeling… inadequate. “Didn’t want people constantly reminding me of my lip color.”

“Well, it looked really cool the other night. It’s kinda what made me notice you.” He offered a smile, to which I changed the subject.

“So, where you headed?”

“Work. I work at this flower shop in the middle of town.” Shawn looked both ways, noticing the empty roads. “I think the bus is late.”

The bus is late. He works with flowers. The bus is late. Flowers.

“Are you running late?” I asked. Don’t do it. Oh god, don’t do it.

“Uh…” Shawn checked the time on his phone. “No, I should be fine. I like to be early.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I have a question.”

FUCK.

“Uhh…” I said stupidly.

“What really made you want to come here for college?” he prompted.

Someone clearly didn’t forget my lack of interest from the other night. Why was this question so important to him?

“Why are you here for college?” I said back.

“I live here. Now you.”

God fuckign-

“Wanted to travel, I guess. I’ve been in one place my whole life.” I shrugged, looking anywhere except him yet again.

“Hm. Okay. What are you listening to?”

“Five sauce.”

“Aren’t you a goth, though?”

I rolled my eyes and made a noise between a scoff and a laugh. “Firstly, Stella calls me that, I don’t. Secondly, you ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, I just wanna get to know you.”

Any normal, naive person would have been swayed by Shawn’s sweet tone and charming smile. I, however, learned that there’s more than what meets the eye. He doesn’t really want to know you, he just wants something. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make you think he does.

I narrowed my eyes. “You need to unlock level forty seven friendship to know anything,” I told him.

“And how far am I?”

“We’ve talked one time before this. You’re not even on level one!”

“Okay, so we’ll hang out sometime so I can make progress.” Shawn’s grin was now very smug. Then he looked to the street. “Oh, right on time.”

The bus just so happened to pull up right about now. My eyes were still narrow and furious, and I was making sure Shawn knew it. How dare he trap me! How dare he ask questions about me! Just say you wanna use me for sex and go!

He was still grinning as he went to the bus entrance. “I’ll let you know when I’m free to hang out. I’ll see you later!”

This motherfu-

[prodigxls]

                                            “ i don’t know how to stay tender                                             with this much blood in my mouth. “

* ╰   gavin leatherwood  ;  18 ;  he/his  —— wow,  nathaniel burke  sure has changed. i guess  he  is feeling isolated from the other  slytherin  members. guess you can’t really blame him. i still remember him being so  clever & rakish  now he just seems  hedonistic & resigned  guess being a  pureblood  isn’t helping matters much either.  i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.  (  zoe ; cst ; 21 ; she/her  )  

WARNINGS:  discussions of war, feelings of parental neglect, drugs & alcohol mention   ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   nate’s stats page, playlist, & pinterest board   ADDITIONAL NOTES:  this is mostly a recycled intro with several, probably clumsy & nonsensical, additions. if anything doesn’t make sense it is On Me. anyway i can’t wait to get to plotting with all of y’all!!!!! 

nathaniel’s life had always been carefully planned. he could trace roots of his future all the way back to before his parents first meeting, see hints of the planning in generations before any of them. that’s the way things worked for him, though, the way they’d always existed in the world he knew. life was an inescapable thing. he was son of their heir to borgin & burkes and the prettiest daughter of an old pureblood line in america’s south. 

he was NATHANIEL ARISTOTLE BEAUVAIS BURKE  ---  his name had always been a mouthful, too much, but the long string of syllables was never negotiable. it meant something.

he needed the two surnames; one to declare him important in his mother’s america, the other to give him credibility in his father’s britain. the first name was his father’s choice, and his middle name his mother’s. he was always meant to be a mix, the PERFECT child, their biggest stroke of luck. no one could say his parents weren’t lucky people, just like no one would ever call nate himself unlucky. 

life worked like that. happy or unhappy or downright miserable, luck was something black and white.

looking at homer burke and ariadne beauvais on paper, it was hard to believe they’d chosen each other in a sweeping romance, not a betrothal turned business transaction. maybe that’s where the luck began: they happened upon each other when they were young and beautiful and both a touch too vicious, and the end result was a son and heir for both dynasties on the very first go. no need for more children; just champagne toasts all around, patting each other on the back in congratulations on how much the world loved them.

nate’s parents were never the parenting type, anyway. had their first child been a girl, they’d have had another, of course. but they were the PERFECT couple, and so they got nathaniel and the rest of their lives to live the way they always had  ---  reckless in the way of the wealthy and beloved, freedom within a thousand confines. 

now, they turned a disapproving eye on nate’s antics, but he knows the hypocrisy exists only because he doesn’t care enough to hide his bad habits like they did.

he sees no use in sweeping the truth under a rug, and when he has a say in the matter, he’d rather be seen honestly.

( which is also a crock of shit  ---  lies slip off his pretty tongue all too easily. a defect of his birth, he’d say: how simple it was is for him to hide the truth. )

nathaniel was always intended to be both a beauvais and a burke. his mother wouldn’t let her family go so easily, and his father adored her enough to allow the influence. she’d charmed his whole family, in fact, despite the technical mar of her blood-status: what money and influence were good enough to fix in america, england was willing to hide. to anyone that mattered, she was a pureblood, muggle mother or not. 

to anyone that cared, nate was too. no one ever looked too closely, anyway, not at the golden heir to a family like his. 

he didn’t care about his half-blood status himself, but no one ever asked. his father’s family only told him to tell no one  …  swore him to secrecy when he was too young for the words to mean anything at all. and he never did. a rowdy childhood and alcohol-hazed adolescence didn’t mean he’d go spilling family secrets right and left, not even when they were his secrets to spill. 

people expected the worst of him. or rather, they expected nothing at all, and so that’s what he gave them.

nathaniel’s mother looked at him and saw so much WASTED potential. nate wondered when he came to realize this  ---  but soon after, he reached an even more important realization: that the when of it didn’t matter. nothing did, really, because her seeing all he could be in the lines of his face didn’t stop his mother from loving him. his mother loving him didn’t stop his father from hating him. his father hating him didn’t stop his grandfather from considering him heir to the shop. oh, there was something so sweet in the nihilism. 

nothing mattered; why hadn’t anyone said something years ago?

( if all the wars his father’s family wrought and bought said anything, it was because they were too stuck in stupid, old ways to know themselves. )

so he had this, his knowledge that nothing he did meant anything to his world, and he had his hatred of the father that hated him. he had the forbidden knowledge of his mother’s tainted blood and the blood-stained lessons her honest father taught him. he had what his granddad had given him, when he was twelve and spending his first summer in america with a wand: a way to be something entirely OTHER than a burke.

the shop and the sanctity of blood made the burkes in the wizarding world nate knew from school and growing up. but he’d spent summers, always, in the louisiana estate his mother grew up in, and that world was built on metal-charming and wandmaking, skills that many family members had an affinity for. nate, he had the heart of a metal-charmer.  it wasn’t a job wixen jumped on, nowadays, given its difficulty and a million peculiarities, the way the work only called to certain hands. 

nate possessed those hands, and a hungry need to do something with them, to be anything other than what his father, and his father’s father, needed of him. 

his granddad, of course, understood: he considered it a universal desire to carve a life out for yourself from the mountain of shoulds you’d been handed.

nate wondered, privately, if his grandad had used that rebellious spirit when he chose his wife  ---  if it hadn’t been love that pushed him towards the pretty muggle from the filthy rich family, but a devil-may-care spirit. 

TRUE LOVE  ( said in all caps, because it mattered )  was something nate had always believed in. because for all the father and son hated each other, homer burke had instilled in nate the fact that love was real, and powerful when it was true. nate’s parents loved each other, for all their bad parenting and wicked ways and million faults. nate knew love worth moving mountains for was possible. 

true love meant something to him; his grandad was only fallible for the fact that it meant nothing to him. 

his mother knew about nate’s metal charming. but it was the one true secret she kept from her husband, who she did genuinely love after all this time. the story was always that homer loved his wife’s family  ( never mind that that was a lie. her mother was a muggle, and he hated her father, could sense, somehow, that he’d been the cause of his son’s corruption. )  but thought america had turned nathaniel too rough. given him the dreams of being a cursebreaker that nate lied about when his father found his books on runes and advanced charms. 

it didn’t matter. let his father hate his aspirations, so long as they’re aspirations assumed and not the ones held close in nate’s heart. let him despise nate so long as he never KNOWS him. 

and who does know him? who can? nate has two talents, the way he sees it; his metal-charming and his intangibility. he’s always been good at being whatever the world asks of him, because it’s easy, this unbecoming. 

sometimes, though, the world wants him to be a viper. and that’s harder, he’ll admit. the cruelties of his father’s society, of his birthright name, they don’t come easy to nate. 

he can’t adopt hypocrisy with ease  ( because it is hypocrisy, to claim he detests muggles when he spends his summers drinking his muggle grandma’s sweet tea and laughing at her raunchy jokes, when she taught him how to shoot a gun and make a strong mixed drink. )  but he could pretend that his youth was the only thing to blame. act as if he’ll take up arms and hatred in due time, once he’s grown up. his granddad drilled the idea of superiority of mind and of skill into his head, so despite not caring about blood supremacy he’s still an arrogant little shit who’s resigned himself to being an asshole, because no one’s ever TOLD him he could be anything else

if asked, nate would admit that he’s always thought his bad habits would make him self destruct, one day. his father has told him a thousand times to stop, already, but could it only be out of worry of the family image? out of worry for the future of the shop? 

the boozing and the partying, the drugs and sex and flying while intoxicated, the sneaking around after hours and climbing over rooftops  ---  it’s fun, but fleeting, and nate knows that. he wishes he could live in the moment but he’s too cerebral. it pisses off his father and sometimes makes him forget who he is, but it’s not enough. 

nathaniel’s a melancholy person, and suspects that nothing’s ever going to be enough for him.

nate cares little for anything, knowing that little cares about him  ---  but his fierce need to be a person separate from being a burke is enough to drive him. he’ll booze and smoke and party, wreck reputations and end up being weekend gossip. that’s NOW. his future may be rooted in the past but nate hopes he’s strong enough to rip it out into new soil. 

[kotlc-oneshots]

Believing (Blind!Keefe AU pt 2)

Word count - 3551

A lot of soliditary between keefe and my other bbys

God I can’t wait to write from Tams perspective, next chapter y’all!

Anyways I hope you like it and that it’s not Bad™️ considering how tired I am

~*~*~*

Pt two

Keefe

The next morning, I wake up and go through my simplistic routine again. Get dressed, brush teeth, message Fitz, eat. When I hear the honking of Fitz car outside, I carefully grab my cane and walk out the doors, tapping my way yard and to the street.

“How goes it?” Fitz’ voice calls, and a smile splits across my face at the inside joke.

“I don’t know,” I reply, laughing at the memory it brings. “I can’t see.” Fitz laughs in response.

“You’re sitting up front today; Biana took Sophie to get coffee early, so it’s just us boys.”

“Dex sat in the back?” I questioned, as he normally was quick to jump on shotgun. I reach the car and pop the door open, and am greeted by the familiar smell of Fitz’s car.

“More like laid in the back,” Dex pipes up, while I thud my bag to the ground and shut the door. I shake my head.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one, Dex. Shame on you.” I chide, and Fitz peels away from the house. I roll my eyes and laugh; they’re so dumb. We’re so dumb. And I’m grateful for it.

“We're here—part two!” Fitz exclaims in the seat next to me. “Well, for half of my classes this’ll be my first day. I missed a lot yesterday—freshman presentations are ass,” he grumbles as he parks the car. I chuckle and shake my head.

“Your fault, man,” I taunt him, and he scoffs as a response. “Hey Dexxxxx… wanna walk me to class?” I say, fumbling around in the back, trying to hit him.

“Hmrrghh. Yeah.” I hear him shift around, and we step out of the car together.

As soon as we're both out, Fitz locks the car. “See y’all later!” he calls, jogging off- likely to some lifting or meeting or something. I chuckle; whenever I think of Fitz, I imagine he’s either very ugly, or really attractive. From what I heard, it’s the latter—he's the epitome of perfection to the entire school, and many other schools as well. I, however, know better—he’s a complete and utter dumbass. He once chugged half a gallon of milk on a dare, and another time got himself locked in a dog kennel—and that list can go on. I don’t quite understand how he keeps the guise of perfection and stability when he’s oh-so-clearly not. Him running off to a meeting or club isn’t a surprise, but it’s hard to imagine, knowing what he’s actually like.

“How the hell does that man manage all that shit?” Dex grumbles, also acknowledging that Fitz is definitely insane. I shake my head.

“A very, very large amount of crack,” I state solemnly, as if this is a sad, but true fact. Dex laughs loudly.

“I don’t doubt it. Better not let his coach find out,” He replies, just as sincerely. “What room number are you in, by the way?” He asks, just as I detect the curb with my cane. Gently stepping up, I tell him. “Nice—we aren’t that far from each other- you’re going straight there, right?” he asks, and I nod.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you—is there anything new with the Stina situation?” I bring up the topic gently—Stina Heks was Dex’s early on bully. Before Sophie brought Dex into the group halfway through their Freshman year, she would nag on him relentlessly—he was attending the school on a partial scholarship, and his family has a bit of bad history of being… odd. His dad runs a small pharmacy, and it’s mostly alternative medicine. She used to take any opportunity she could to point out anything about him that wasn’t strictly ‘normal’. I absolutely love it there with Dex. Mr. Dizznee is the kindest, most loving person ever—a huge contrast to my barely around, statue of a father. Plus, it always smells really nice in the store.

“Oh… well, we have precalc together, but she hasn’t said anything to me. She hasn’t said anything all summer—I feel like she's matured, a bit. Probably.” He sounds fairly put down, and I use his voice to guide me in the direction to wrap him in a one armed hug.

“Sorry I brought it up. But let me know if anything happens,” I say and he chuckles and pushes me away. From those few moments, I can tell he’s almost taller than me—which doesn’t feel right.

“No worries. Let's get you to class,” he says, and I can tell he’s being honest—it doesn’t bother him. Which is good, in my opinion. He’s growing up. Sometimes I feel like such a dad.

We walk into the main doors of the building and make our way down a few hallways. I use my photographic (ha) memory to make my way, but Dex still stays close to me, not letting me bump into kids or trip. I appreciate it, because I don’t have to use my cane—I might not be able to see them, but I can feel the people staring at me when I have it out.

“Well, we're here. We have, like, 15 minutes before class starts, though,” Dex states.

“I know- I always show up early,” I reply. “I mean, the other option is sitting in the cafeteria.” I shrug.

“Well, I might as well go to my class then. Brech told me yesterday I should come in if I had questions- and she assigned a couple starter worksheets. I gotta deal with that.” Even though I can’t see it, I can practically hear his frown.

“No worries,” I tell him, and he gently pats my shoulder before walking off. I pull out my cane, letting it guide me into the still unfamiliar classroom. The milky blobs of color offer little help as to finding a seat, so unfortunately this tends to be necessary.

“Hey! You should sit here.” A familiar voice says from the back corner. I rack my brain—Linh!

“Oh! Hey,” I reply. “Umm, where are you, exactly?” I ask, sounding really cool, I’m sure. I hate needing help.

“Just back here- this chair would be great.” She knocks on what I presume is the chair next to her. I use the sound to guide me, as well as the cane.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling. “You know, it's really hard to find a seat around here. Like, I literally can't see any! Must be budget cuts,” I say, grinning. There's a pause, then a small laugh.

“Some private school. They can't even afford chairs.” I chuckle.

“I mean- where’s the proof that there's even a building. Or classrooms! You gotta see to believe, and I certainly don't see, so…” I trail off and nod seriously. She laughs- I’m grateful. Blind jokes don’t go well with everyone. “Anyways, how are you?” I change the topic with a grin. “Long time no see.” This pulls out another laugh.

“Well, I’m ok. My schedule has been pretty stressful—but other than that, good. I’m still trying to make friends. I didn’t mention it yesterday, but this is my first year at Foxfire,” she says. I nod in acknowledgment.

“So, kinda on your own then? That’s not easy,” I reply, wondering if I should introduce her to the group. She seems nice enough, and, I hate to admit it, but half of being a part of our group is not being a piece of crap about me being blind. And all of us secretly being idiots.

“Well, there’s my brother—we’re twins. But other than that, yeah.” She sighs softly.

“Oh! You have a brother. That’s always nice,” I say.

“Well, yeah. He’s super over-protected. We got sucked into the foster care system, because… of some things, and there was a lot of bad things, which he always felt he had to keep me from. But we found a really great family now! They’re very nice, and actually acknowledge me and Tam’s ability. We’ve always been considered smart, but nobody really cared. They we're just in it for the money. Our new parents, however, have money, which is nice. So when they found out our test scores, they sent us here.” I nod in acknowledgement—Sophie went through some similar things before she got adopted by Grady and Edaline.

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry you’ve been through that,” I say, trying to find the right words. “It’s really good that you’re here now. Even though I’m pretty convinced there isn’t an actual school, I’ve been told that it’s nice.” She laughs at this.

“Yeah, so have I. Oh! I almost forgot. I’m in your stats class. Frer was just being rude the whole period, so I didn’t have a chance to say anything,” Linh says. I grin.

“Nice! Now that I know, you officially have to help me prank him at least once this year.” I tell her, very seriously.

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” she sounds apprehensive.

“I mean, you don’t have to. But I’m going to do it, so you may as well help.”

“I’ll think about it.” She says, and the door opens.

“Oh! Hello, you two. Early again?” A feminine voice—our teacher’s—says.

“You know it,” I tell her, smiling.

“Alright, well. You have a little bit less than five minutes before class starts, so go ahead and continue what you we’re doing.” Based on her tone—the bright, too cheery one that I hear a lot- I can tell she’s a little annoyed. I try not to let that affect me.

“Hey—I’m gonna work on some AP physics stuff,” Linh says, and I can tell she doesn’t really want to talk with the teacher there- even if its casual conversation. I nod, and let my thoughts be my own for the moment.

At least I’m used to it.

*****

Not much happens the next couple of periods—Fitz and I work on English together, and Dex and I use morse code to ‘pass notes’ in AP physics. He’s really good at science (like, really good), so he skipped a year and is in APP2 as a junior. I appreciate it- he’ll be a help for when I actually feel like studying. During Lunch, Dex and I sit at our table and Linh came to sit with us, introducing herself to Dex. In Government, I sit on my own and listened to the online assignments. In Stats, Linh manages to find a spot next to me and helps me out with the worksheet.

I find myself needing to go to the bathroom, so I ask to be excused. On my way there, a familiar voice calls my name.

“Keefe! Hey. Um.”

“Foster! Uh… what’s up?” I ask.

“Oh! Nothing. But, hey, do you think that you could come over tonight? There’s… there’s something I really want to talk to you about.” Just from her voice, I hear she’s slightly frazzled. Nervous.

“Are you ok, Sophie? Is someone bothering you again?” My mind jumps back to when she was first adopted by Grady and Edaline, and all the crap other kids gave her.

“No! It’s not like that. Just, something I wanna talk about. I need advice.” I smile.

“Ah. You need the wise old Keefester to help you out. Well, no worries, m’lady, I will do what I can. You want me to come over?”

“Yeah. I’ll just have Fitz drop both of us off at my place, Biana can ride on her own—sound good?”

“As long as you have food, I’m okay with anything.” She laughs softly.

“Of course. See you.” I hear her walk away, and smile to myself—I think back to when I had feelings for her, and can’t help but think about how they’ve changed- she’s like a younger sister to me now. It’s odd.

I go to the restroom and return to class, thinking about what Sophie might have to tell me that made her that nervous.

Stats class ends (for me), and my minds swimming with Frer’s stupidity as I go to Latin. I get there around when the bell rings to dismiss everyone else, and I find a seat close to the door. People filter out and in the classroom, and then someone speaks.

“Dude! Keefe, I forgot you we're in this class.” Fitz says, and a grin spreads across my face.

“Yeah, you had that Freshman help thing yesterday. You know there’s only one AP Latin 2, dumbass.” I respond, and he chuckles. I hear him put his stuff next to me.

“How was this class yesterday?” He asks, and I shrug.

“We barely did anything. Got a list of vocab and grammar to review.” I tell him, pulling up my bag to get my computer.

“That’s valid. Not gonna lie, I’m glad I missed it.” This makes me laugh.

“Oh, no—Wonderboy didn’t want to go to class? That’s a fuckin abomination.” I reply sarcastically, and the bell rings. I can hear Fitz scoff, but our teacher starts talking so he can’t respond. We get a reading prompt, and I have to go into the hall and listen to it. The teacher doesn’t let Fitz come out and help me, which sucks- but I have to consider the situation. Which also sucks. I hate having to be worked around.

One thing that really bothers me about our teacher, Sam, is she never lets me leave early. So Fitz has to help me through the crowd of people. The kids don’t really acknowledge me, but having so many people around that I can’t see, don’t know, that don’t care sends massive spikes of anxiety through me. Fitz does a really good job at helping me, his steady hand on my shoulder the whole time, making sure we both get through the crowd.

I’m so damn grateful for him sometimes.

We finally manage to get out of the building and to Fitz’s car. He unlocks it, and I climb into his car carefully. I can hear as he types on his phone, likely texting someone.

“How’s shit at home been going?” He asks, somewhat startling me.

“Oh. Well, not much has happened, really,” I admit with a shrug. “He’s been out a lot lately- I don’t have to interact with him much.”

“Good. We’re not gonna let him give you shit this year, got it?” I laugh.

“You’re so overprotective, Fitzy. I can handle my dad.”

“I’m serious, Keefe. None of this is your fault. Especially now with your mom gone… we-”

“I get it, Fitz. I know.” While I do love Fitz with my whole heart, he can be… overbearing. I reach out and search for his shoulder. “I’ll be okay.” I give him (what I assume to be) an award winning smile. “Besides, I got this year in the bag. All my pranks? Planned out to the t. I won’t get in trouble all year, I swear.” Fitz scoffs, but it’s lighthearted and followed by a chuckle.

“All right Keefe. I’m sorry.” He sounds genuine and I lean into him, letting my head rest on his shoulder. He can be a stubborn little shit sometimes, but he’s… a good friend.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking adorable.” The door crashes open and Dex steps inside. “You guys are gross, though.” He adds.

“PDA is not the Foxfire way.” Sophie says, jokingly.

“I will kiss him, right here, right now. Fight me,” Fitz says, joking but aggressive. Protective as ever. I laugh and push away, settling back into my normal seat.

“I think once is enough, isn’t it?” Dex laughs, but there’s something in his voice… I ignore it, and grin.

“Not when I’m involved. Trust me, even Fitz Vacker wants a piece of this.” I say, grinning and indicating myself.

“Not that you would know,” Fitz responds, ruffling my hair.

“Dude, I don’t even have to see to know how incredibly attractive I am,” I inform them.

“No need to argue with that.” Dex chuckles.

“Oh!” Sophie popes up. “I forgot to mention. Keefe’s comin over, could you just drop us both off at my place? I can get him back, Edaline normally doesn’t mind.” I’m actually the only one of the group that lives in town- everyone else lives in the country, because their parents needed or liked having the land.

“That makes it easy for me. Let’s go, brethren.” I don’t know when Fitz started referring to us at that, but I still think it’s hilarious. I snort at his idiocy, and we head off.

“Dex, are you doing debate this year?” I pipe up. I’m EXCITED for debate season.

“Yeah. I’m actually writing some stuff right now, on how to not be a little bitch.” Dex says, laughing.

“Dex, PLEASE. You’d do really good,” I argue. “Just write an oratory on veganism or something!”

“Dude, you’ve been trying this for the past two years- the meetings clash with robotics. Besides, why would I want to right an oratory when you’ve placed first twice now.”

“Not that that mattered,” I contest. “Considering my dad didn’t let me go.”

“Pleeeasseee. For me.”

“FINE. I’ll go to one meeting. Only because there’s no robotics and Sophie’s going. No offense Keefe, but you suck.” I stick my tongue out at him, but grin happily. I’ve been trying to do this for YEARS.

“You guys are such nerds,” Fitz inputs, and I hit his shoulder. “Oh, you know it’s true.” I scoff.

“Says the president of the chess club.” Sophie states, laughing.

“We don’t talk about that.” Fits says, and I feel the car pull to a stop. “We’re here, Sophie. Keefe, you too. Dex- get up here you little shit.”

“Hey. Don’t disrespect my son like that.” Sophie tells, and I hear Dex grumble a bit.

“Fitz, if you’re not busy, wanna do something? Like, I dunno, egg some annoying blondes?” I snort. Dex has learned well.

“Um, yes to the first part, no to the second. That’s a lot of work. Also, aren’t you vegan?”

“Oh! Yeah, that.” Dex says casually. I laugh, and step out and away from the car carefully.

“Have fun, nerds!” Sophie calls as they drive off, and I grin in her direction.

“So, Miss F, what was it you wanted to tell me?” I ask, and I can practically feel the shift in her mood.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Come inside?” I nod, and she guides me to the doors.

“Sounds serious,” I tell her.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Just… something that’s been on my mind for the past few months. Especially… I dunno.”

“Wanna go to your room first?”

“Yeah. Um…” I can tell she’s nervous, and likely picking at her eyelashes- what many people have told me to be her nervous tick. We walk over to her room in moderate silence.

“What’s the sitch?” I ask, and Sophie laughs- and replies with the Kim Possible beep. “Seriously though, what’s on your mind. Unless you wanted me over just to admire how incredibly handsome I happen to be.”

“Well, um, no… uh.” She sighs. I search around for a chair and sit down.

“Hey. It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.

“Well, I. I think. I’m gay, I think. Like, maybe not full gay, but pretty gay. Like, girls are cool gay. Really cool. But maybe not, I don’t? Know If I’m Actually Gay Gay. Maybe I’m just thinking and stuff, but I’m probably gay? I think? I don-”

“Sophie. Hey. It’s okay.” I interrupt, to keep her from going insane. “Take a few deep breaths.” I hear her do so. “You know none of us will judge you. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I guess, I just don’t want to make a big deal of it.”

“I get it. I’m glad you told me, though.” I smile at her warmly.

“Well. That’s all I really wanted to tell you. I guess.”

“Wanna play Smash?”

“Yeah.”

****

That night I get home relatively late- Sophie feeds me and we play video games for quite a while. We didn’t talk about what she told me- I want to respect her space.

“Where have you been?” My father, voice stern, says. I haven’t even closed the door yet.

“Sophie’s.” I respond, automatically pulling on a calm expression and heightening my posture. I shut the door softly.

“And what, may I ask, were you doing?” His voice is condescending.

“We were playing video games and I lost track of time- I’m sorry.” He scoffs.

“I’m sure. Do you have any homework?” There's the implied ‘that you didn’t do’ at the end.

“Not really. I have some reading I can do, though.” I admit. I’ve learned that lying to my father doesn’t work. Ever.

“You better get on that.” He sneers, and I try to keep my expression respectful and blank.

“Of course. I’m sorry.” I say, and walk in the direction of my bedroom. “Debate starts Thursday, by the way.”

“Convenient. The day that I have off.” He scoffs back.

“I’m sorry dad. Do you want me to come home? They won’t mind if I miss the first meeting.” I try not to yell, or say anything that will anger him.

“I don’t care. Go finish your reading.” He says. I can tell that he’s not lying- he doesn’t care.

I bite my tongue and nod. Then I go finish my reading.

[shushvera]

*toy story shark vc* howdy howdy howdy ! i would like to make it known i’ve been unabashedly eyeing this since it opened ! anyway ! i’ve lost my ooc intro groove so we gonna move down to my ic intro down below:

oh hi there, welcome to holiday, VERA FLOROS. you’ve been here for TWO MONTHS? awesome! you look just like MARINA DIAMANDIS, it’s crazy. oh, so you’re a 30 year old ‘FORTUNE TELLER’/’MUSICIAN’. and you’re FEMALE and use SHE/HER? okay, just checking! oh, people say you’re INTUITIVE & DILIGENT but DECEITFUL & RASH? well, i’m sure that you can prove yourself here. you’re looking forward to the HALLOWEEN celebration? that’s a good one, you’ll love it. i have to get going now, bye! [fleur, 19, est, she/her]

i would like to start by saying i’ve played vera once (1 time) before and it was,, so much fun,, the dumbest smart person to exist. i’ve tweaked her bg a little (because..... that’s what happens when you read lucille ball’s autobiography that was SUMN.....), but ! who cares !

update: this got rly long so there’s a tl;dr at the bottom if that better floats your boat !

INTRO-WORTHY STATS

aka, stats that aren’t that deep™

FULL NAME: Vera Floros DOB: August 17th, 1989 AGE: thirty FROM: Abergavenny, Wales OCCUPATION: “fortune teller” & a musician who doesn’t understand marketing ORIENTATION: bisexual CLASS: middle class ( that inheritance kicked in ! )

BACKGROUND: 

CHILDHOOD

triggers: parental death, brief mentions of child abuse

alright, vera was born to a very young couple in wales. they’d gotten married fresh out of high school and had a child (her) just two years later. that being said, for about two years after, her mother began distancing herself from the father... not because he was a bad guy, but he moved cities entirely and she was NOT about that.

to be perfectly redundant, for about two years, it was just vera and her mother. 

grandparents weren’t about their daughter being married. at 18. did they help pay rent for a separate living space? until vera’s mom was 21, yes. but was she welcomed in their house? lmao!!!!!

THEN her father blew back into town. they reconnected, they both began working more so that vera’s mother didn’t have to rely on her own (we’ll get to her dad’s parent’s in a second). 

vera, at the Tender Age of Three™ learned that she was a complete Daddy’s Girl™. although she loved her mom for obvious reasons, she connected with her dad on an entirely different level. he was fun! he was playful! he was young, but he was the perfect dad! he even told dad jokes! which she didn’t get until she was five because three year olds usually aren’t that smart! they did little ‘acrobatic’ things! it was cute and fun and good!

but? this is a roleplay character?

our man died from unexpected heart failure. the autopsy showed an abnormality that hadn’t previously been discovered, and we know our man rarely went to the doctor. vera was six at the time.

her mom: married at 18, mother at 20, widow at 26. 

because she and her mom had never developed that Close Bond™, it was difficult for her mother to figure out how to... like... keep her from wandering around... because just telling her not to wasn’t working... so she was like “you know what.... a leash.”

we love ‘puppy’ by george saunders

so whenever her mom was at work and vera wasn’t in school, she was tied to a tree in the backyard.

cruel and unusual punishment!

eventually, her mom kind of just... threw in the towel... she left completely for a change of pace. she said she would be back and that vera would be under the care of her father’s parents in athens until then.

her father’s parents had always been more accepting of the young marriage. they’d been more supportive of them being young parents, in spite of her father having left for a while. they’d definitely been supportive of vera and her mother during that time because they were like “omg mood”

there were a few other kids under their care, all related or not. they did some work for her father’s parents, but nothing very laborious – just sort of... Bonding™ ja feel?

so her mom DID keep her promise and returned three years later when vera was nine. mind you, vera had never held any feelings of resentment towards her mother. when she was six, she... just didn’t get it. at nine, she was old enough to be like “i get u.”

BUT her mother DID get remarried. she didn’t resent her for that, but... she was not fond of the new husband. he wouldn’t accept the ‘dad’ title, was very stern, very serious, made her mom seem like an absolute joy, etc. 

but her mom was in love, so what could she do? and then they had a son together, so what could she do? nothing.

that summer, to learn more Discipline™, vera was sent to live with her step-father’s parents in london. boy howdy, it was nothing like her father’s parents! they had a knack for pointing out flaws, induced actual laborious work, constantly quoted the bible at the worst of times, and thought that a single head nod was the equivalent of “good job!” there were a couple of other kids there too, but yikes.

TEENS ( *hang ten emoji* ) + COLLEGE

triggers: brief domestic abuse implications

early was filled with Drama™ surrounding her step-father’s parents and her step-father himself. the overall consensus was that he was not a dope dude, nor were his parents. vera’s mother filed for divorce and gained sole custody of their son (keeping in mind.... she basically already had sole custody of vera.... considering she was her only legal guardian left lmao)

after the divorce was filed, vera’s mother was like “u kno what. my parents hate me. my first husband is dead. my second husband was a douche. i have no reason to be here anymore.” so they went to the land of golden opportunity

but wound up in america instead

(joke patented by dr. doofenshmirtz)

vera, around sixteen at the time (y’all i’m figuring out ages as i go along bear with me), now attended some strange high-school where they were like “fahrenheit.” 

by the way! it was in holiday! that’s important to note for possible future connections!

it wasn’t an unwelcome change, though. starting over... was nice...

but the problem was that she was like her father in that she always acted before she thought... which made her a very dumb smart person. 

alright get ready for the single idea that drove this entire thing:

she majored in philosophy then was *pikachu shocked face* when she realized there were no jobs out there for philosophy majors.

ADULTHOOD

alright... so what do you do when you have no good opportunities for things in your major?

you would think you would do something like... idk... find a well-paying job that doesn’t require a major?

or maybe a job that just requires experience in ___?

or maybe a job that just requires a bachelor’s degree of any sort?

or maybe a job that doesn’t require a major, but would like a major similar to yours, thus giving you a leg up?

etc.?

lmao no. you go to new orleans and become one of many phony fortune tellers using the one good thing you got from your weird upbringing: easy analysis of body language.

in addition, you try to make something of your life through music, but have no clue what ‘marketing’ is because you really don’t understand social media and probably still have the egg as your twitter profile picture.

what do you mean print is out of style?

what do you mean no one listens to CDs anymore?

what do you mean garageband isn’t acceptable to record on?

that being said, it’s not like... she wasn’t good at it... i mean she was v good at it... but musician is in quotes because she has made NOTHING of her LIFE with it. DOES NOT UNDERSTAND MARKETING.

*sonic kid vc* WHEN WILL YOU LEARN? WHEN WILL YOU LEARN? *end vc*

she got some decent pay from being a ‘fortune teller,’ though. tourists totally flocked and using a fake russian accent helped, as did... just speaking a language they didn’t know while pretending to contact spirits...

at least she’s a good scam artist

can’t market very well, but could probs create the next big ponzi scheme

returned to holiday when she heard news from her brother that her mother had fallen ill.

honestly rest in peace.

is still around because... that’s her home! sentiment! also rip!

also marketing isn’t as hard in holiday so???

also testing fortune telling out in holiday is more interesting so???

DOPE.

PERSONALITY

either really dumb for a smart person or really smart for a dumb person.

still has a childlike trait tbh. i mean when ur growing up just laying beneath child labor laws, ur gonna have to become a kid again eventually.

really bad at technology for reasons unknown to... everyone, but really good at scams.

has not thought before she acted even ONCE.

hasn’t used her degree since she was 22. the closest she’s come is buying some misc. philosophy books and sharing tidbits with strangers. 

“now this is a taoist anthem” - vera @ ‘soak up the sun’ by sheryl crow

so many ragrets.

will find a way to bring up she’s half greek in every conversation. 

“and i’ve had mental illness since i was in middle school. good night.” - that video someone edited of professor tox

im so bad at personality sections but she’s got a fun one y’all one of the few characters i’ve played who’s had a Sad Backstory™ but wound up being a Fun And Comedic Character™

TL;DR

that was my first time ever writing this whole thing out, so it got real long. so we gonna give a tl;dr:

triggers: v brief mentions of parental death, brief mentions of child abuse, v brief implication of domestic abuse

born to a v young couple in wales. dad was like “brb” then he did, indeed, come rb. loved dad. but dad died when she was six lmao get wreckt this is a roleplay character.

mom was like “idk what 2 do” so she took notes from george saunders’s ‘puppy’ and just tied vera to a tree when she was gone adjsflka. went away for a while and vera stayed with her dad’s parent’s in greece. came back three years later and reunitedanditfeelssogood.mp3.

got married tho and vera was like “i don’t like this guy” and mom was like “i’m having his child.” lived with his parents over the next few summers. they almost violate child labor laws. like. just a hair more. hare? became source of any self-hatred lmao get wreckt

vera’s mom and step-dad divorced bc he was horrible and they moved to holiday when she was sixteen. she left for college when she was eighteen. she decided to major in philosophy which was a bad idea and the source of her entire character. 

decided to become a phony fortune teller in new orleans instead of... idk... just getting a job that didn’t require a degree or sumn? pretty successful tho! talked in a fake russian accent around tourists bc? why not? 

also did/does music but has no idea how marketing works. bad at social media. records things on garageband. an overall fool. good but a fool.

back in holiday bc mom died lmao get wreckt we’re an orphan now boizzzz

Sad But Rad™

WANTED CONNECTIONS

it’s 2:38AM as i write this part and i still have to go back and include a stats thing bc i love those then post ic but i’ll update this w/ some when im done i suppose?? but we do love brainstorming in this house!!

like this or hmu if you’d like to plot !

[eerythingisshaka]

Wakanda Got Y’all Pt. 7

[Black Panther x Insecure Mashup]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.2k

The outreach center was operating in its usual mode.  Children playing in the gymnasium and fitness centers, tutoring area giving one on one help to kids on their studies, lunches and snacks distributed on schedule.  Luckily attendance rose with the stat of the regular school year.

Issa helped in the tutoring room with Frieda and a couple of other volunteers.

“Issa!  We have really picked up our numbers since the first week, isn’t this exciting?”  Frieda asks with a smile bigger than her hair.

Issa couldn’t help but admit the same.  “I know! I really can’t believe it, but I guess T’Challa was right.  They will come eventually, long as we are consistent and patient about it.”

Frieda puts on a thoughtful look peering at Issa.  “Wise words, from a king nonetheless. Have you guys been...getting along?”

Issa instantly starts to sweat.  “Hey Bradley! Don’t let those equations divide your attention.  Multiply your knowledge young’un!” Issa yells out across the room abruptly, causing the other students to sit up and look at her suspiciously.

“Which one is Bradley…”  Frieda asks searching the room.

There was no Bradley, Issa just needed an excuse to change the subject from T’Challa.

“He back there.  So, um, have you seen Nakia around today?  I was hoping to get to talk to her a little bit to go over some stuff.”

“Oh no worries.  I already got with her about the one piece she wore.  I saw you couldn’t keep staring so I asked where she got it, but she said it’s exclusive to her tribe so we probably shouldn’t appropriate.”

Issa blinks wildly, shaking her head.  “Wait, did she say we shouldn’t appropriate?”

Frieda shakes her head.  “No, that’s my thoughts on it.”  

“Frieda, it wouldn’t be appropriation if I did it.  You passed the diversity training with flying colors, I don’t know why this trips you up still.”

“Ohhh, right.  I’m sorry I almost stripped you of your Black identity to your roots.  Honestly, I can’t believe my foolishness.”

“Plus that wasn’t even what I was talkin about.  I need her to-”

“Can y’all take this conversation outside or put a pin in it?  My thesis ain’t gonna write itself.” One shiny, round boy boy spoke up from his laptop.

“Sorry!  Bradley…?”  Issa asks.

“Stefon, lady.  Damn!” He corrects.

“Young man, remember the clean language policy please.”  Frieda warns gently.

“How about y’all just REMEMBER, ma’am?”  The boy says with some neck work.

Issa mutters to herself.  “Damn, he really is a Stefon.  Um, sorry. Frieda, I’m going to find Nakia, you got this?”

Frieda waves her off.  “No doubt. Take your time!”

Issa walks out of the tutoring area towards the administrative offices where Nakia is located.  The secretary says hello as she confirms with Issa that Nakia was present and wrapping up a meeting.  

Issa sat down and pulled out her phone to pass the time, seeing a message from Kellie in the group chat.

(K) Is Tiffany covering the bill for this girls night since this was her damn idea?  Shit is high as hell, even after happy hour discount.

Molly pops up.  No girl, just stick to what you can do, we’ll wind down at my spot afterwards anyway.  Save your drink money.

That’s👏 what 👏 I’m 👏 talkin 👏 bout!  Kelli emotes.

Oh, Molly, you cool if Nakia is at your place too?

(M) She comin??

I’m about to ask…

(K) Oh!  If we bringin plus ones, lemme bring my Butterball to the function too!

(M) NO!  Y’all ain’t fuckin in my damn apartment.

(K) Woooow, like I’m that disrespectful.  Fuck you too then!

So is that a yeah or…

(M) If you get the balls to ask, she can.  But she ain’t my business, so if things go south, she out!

Issa hears Nakia’s door open followed by laughter.  Nakia walks out with T’Challa, stopping to give him a hug, making Issa squirm uncomfortably.  T’Challa breaks away and turns to see her.

“Issa!  Hello, you look well.  Were you waiting on me?”  T’Challa asks, while striding over to Issa, holding her hand to stand her up.  His sunny demeanor was hard to ignore, especially when she wasn’t sure if it was truly for her or from Nakia.

“No, actually, I am here to see Nakia.  I wanted to have a little talk, girl talk, you know.”  Issa says, stammering slightly.

T’Challa smiles looking back at Nakia.  “Be kinder to her than you just were to me, eh?  Issa, I would like to see you later. Call me when you are free.”  He says kissing the back of her hand with a wink.

“Issa, come in.  I was hoping to see you actually.”  Nakia’s ethereal voice calls out to her as she gracefully turns to go back into her office, beckoning Issa with a twirl of her fingers in the air.

As Issa walks in, she is caught up in the decor of Nakia’s office.  Earth tones set her mood at ease with the dark wood panel walls, rich tapestry lining the wall behind her.  Exotic plants emit fragrances to tickle her senses. The babbling of a large waterfall running over the plastic rock formations sing in her eardrum as she takes a seat in the comfy chair.

“Wow, I didn’t know you worked in a spa.  I should’ve came here more often.” Issa says in amazement.

Nakia smiles sweetly, folding her hands on her desk.  “Trust me, this wasn’t in the budget, but I figured I could splurge myself for a home away from home.”

Issa nods.  “Yeah, I can only imagine being outside of where I’m from.  It’s kind of exciting but scary too.”

Nakia waves this notion off.  “Oh no, I am used to being away from home.  I have traveled all around the world as a War Dog for Wakanda.  This is a vacation in comparison.”

Issa blinks, feeling her anxiety grow.  “Excuse me? War Dog?”

Nakia nods, looking at Issa in surprise.  “Yes! I thought I told you? Anyway, a war dog is like a spy.  It’s how we keep tabs on the happenings around the world, intervene when necessary, other classified things.  It’s so exciting, for selfish reasons really; half the reason me and T’Challa couldn’t work out.”

“Oh.”  Issa says softly.  The reality of being the one after Nakia to T’Challa breaks her confidence down further.  

Nakia cocks her head to the side with concern.  “I hope us working together does not make things uncomfortable for you.  He seems to believe in you a lot and T’Challa’s judgment is pretty sound for the most part.”

“No, not at all.  We’re taking things slow anyway.  I would barely call it a relationship, I mean, we’re talking but nothing deep, you know.”  Issa stammers

“It’s all good!  Long as everyone’s happy I’m happy.  And speaking of, I wanted to talk to you about We Got Y’all.”

Issa sits up straighter.  “Yeah, go ahead.”

Nakia twists her hands together anxiously.  “I wonder exactly how well we mesh together as a unit.  Don’t get me wrong, I still feel that the benefit of mixing us together helps our causes more than it hinders but there are little parts that may be a challenge to the overall goals we are trying to achieve.”

Issa furrows her brow.  “Well, ok. Could you be more specific?”

Nakia bites her lip.  “Some of the coordinators seem a bit out of touch with the culture here.  And that is coming from me, I’m, certainly not tied to America in the slightest, nor would I permanently choose to be.  But some are either too, let’s say ‘engaged’ with the students and their needs to the point of concocting worse backstories on assumption, while others are completely aloof to put it nicely.”

Issa knew exactly the ones that Nakia was talking about.  “I get it, you don’t even have to say a thing about it. Like you said, they try for the cause by showing up but it’s hard for them to see past innate differences sometimes.  You should’ve seen them trying to use me like a cheat sheet on what to even say to you guys, and even Erik, and he’s from here!”

Nakia shakes her head in disbelief.  “It’s outstanding the lengths people will go to appear accepting only to trip and fall on their own face, when you’ve asked for none of it in the first place.”

Issa nods encouragingly.  “Can we just say it now? White people?”

“Pssh, I was just about to, you beat me to it!”  

They share a genuine laugh that felt so good for Issa to let go, like a weight was lifted from her shoulders.  “I can talk to them, try and make things a little less tense and remind them you guys aren’t aliens.”

“The curly haired nervous one, she can be that way sometimes.  Very knowledgeable but everyday does not have to be CNN.”

“Right!  Just talk regular, she is an easy fix.  Frieda is the ally you want to have around here.”   Issa assures Nakia.

“Noted, thank you again for your input.  I won’t keep you from your weekend any longer, please have a good day.”  Nakia gets up, collecting some papers on her desk.

“Actually that is something I wanted to bring up.  Me and some girlfriends of mine were gonna have a girls night out, and we haven’t gotten wind down time together.  So I thought maybe you’d wanna come?”

Nakia’s eyes lit up.  “Sure! That sounds like a good plan!  I’d love to join your friends, just let me know what I should bring.”

Issa dismisses her, getting up.  “Oh just bring yourself. You’re my guest, it’s not problem.”

Nakia stands coming around to give Issa a strong hug.  “Thank you for the invitation. I cannot wait!”

“Great!  I’ll give you the details later!”  Issa says goodbye, leaving her office on cloud nine.  Their talk went way better than she ever expected, and now the other girls will get to meet her too.  Issa began to look forward to the night even more now. And with a ding of her phone, T’Challa gave her reason to leave work a little early.

Before she texts him back, she messages the girls.

Hey! Confirmed one more head for our night!

(T) I don't know her. Molly may not have room at her place...

(M) Uh, don't shade my apt...

I thought we were eating out?

(K) Call your man for that.  Tiffany tryna be bougie cheap is all.

The hell is bougie cheap?

(K) Avoiding tipping by doing a house party which is more expensive.

(T) whatever.  I just couldn't find a reservation last minute. But she can bring something to contribute.

Ok what are we needing?

(T) No no. She can bring something. We don't know her, let her impress us.

It wasn’t even Tiffany’s party and she was already running shit

---

T’Challa wanted to eat out tonight, so he picked her up for a night out to a mid range restaurant for them to enjoy.

“Ooh!  I think I’m going to get the shrimp.  I’m feeling fancy and delicate.” Issa says, bopping in her seat slightly.

T’Challa looks at her, staring at the candlelight illuminates their table romantically.  “Whatever you like sounds good to me.”

“No, you have to get something different.”  Issa protests.

“And why is that?”

“....so the table can have some variety?”  Issa mutters.

“But the meals are individualized.”  T’Challa asks in confusion.

“Well, if you don’t have a preference you should try the chicken marsala, that sounded good to me too.”

T’Challa closes his menu.  “So, if you have shrimp, and chicken marsala, what am I eating then?”

Issa looks up at the ceiling in dramatic thought.  “We haven’t seen the dessert menu yet.”

T’Challa chuckles, taking his glass up to Issa.  She mirrors him. “To dessert then. May it be sweet enough to lick the plate clean.”  He sips his wine looking at Issa with desire. Issa almost chokes on hers, sputtering and wiping her mouth dry.

“So, did you have a good talk with Nakia today?”  T’Challa asks looking back to his menu unphased.

Issa blinks a incredulously, unprepared to discuss his ex so soon.  “Diving right in huh? Well, yeah, it was good. She wants me to kind of talk with my folks about their methods around the kids and I invited her to go out with me.”

“Oh!  Is she stealing you from me now?”  T’Challa quips.

Issa looks sideways.  “I mean, she kinda pretty.  We’ll see after these drinks we bout to have Saturday night.”

T’Challa’s mouth hangs open before melting into a smile.  “I’m glad you are in good spirits considering.”

Issa sips from her glass.  “That she is your ex and you didn’t tell me ahead of time?  Yeah, I’m pretty fucking good.”

T’Challa calls over a waiter.  “It’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you, it’s just that I hadn’t gotten a chance to.  And I also didn’t expect it to have to be explained. I didn’t get into this program expecting to fall for one of the coordinators.”

“Well pick yourself back up.  This is going to stay as professional as possible out of respect.”

T’Challa shrugs.  “Then we will be going dutch on the meal, then?”

Issa cranks her neck back.  “Uh, don’t be rude. You invited me anyway, so that’s the rules.”

T’Challa squints at her.  “Wakanda is a bit different than America.  I might have to claim ignorance on that.”

They laugh as the waiter approaches.  “Welcome to Chez Magnifique. I’m L-”

“Lawrence?!”  Issa gasps.

“Yes, Lawrence.  She will have the shrimp and the chicken marsala.  We are sharing tonight.” T’Challa smiles at Issa but it swiftly drops when he reads her expression.  “What’s wrong?”

Part 8

Masterlist

RagTag

@hbicprettyprincess @theunsweetenedtruth

@kimianostalgia @airis-paris14

@afraiddreamingandloving

@chaneajoyyy

@myfavemarvelfanfics

@nys30

@blkintrovert

@allhailnjadaka @cutewylie @bidibidibombaclaat @muse-of-mbaku @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689

[mamashitty]

Samwell Elementary Chapter 7

a new pov this time around. y’all can read the story here on my tumblr or on my ao3.

Shitty is seated cross-legged on the floor in Maisie’s room. She is in the process of figuring out how to braid his epic flow. She pulls his hair a lot less than Jack does, Shitty notices and files that information away for later. It is always good to stock up on chirping material for the future. Except, just as Shitty is musing over that, Maisie tugs his hair back rather painfully, and Shitty bites back a wince that his badass hockey niece does not even notice.

“Uncle Crappy?” Maisie asks.

“What is it, Corndog?”

“Do you think Mom is going to love me less after the baby is born?” It is not very often that Shitty hears the fear in Maisie’s voice. Her whole life she seems to face any situation head-on. She is always grabbing life by the horns. He finds himself frowning, not liking the question, and not liking that this is a worry that Maisie has floating around in her adorable little head. He tilts his head back so that he can look at her. He wonders if she has asked Jack or Camilla this question yet, or if he is the first one. He forces himself to flash her a smile and then he is sticking his tongue out her. Maisie lets out a giggle, though it sounds forced to his ears.

“Maisie, your Mom is going to love you the same as she does now, brah.” He says, putting as much conviction into his voice as possible, and hoping that Maisie hears it and understands it. Maisie is the first kid that he has spent any real amount of time with, she’s the first one he proudly calls a niece. The first one he gets to be some form of Uncle to. This feels a bit like a test to him, a test he is really just putting on his own shoulders. He does not want to fuck this up. He wants and needs Maisie to know that she can always come to him, no matter what the problem or concern is. He loves this little girl. She is a perfect mix of Jack and Camilla. And completely her own person too. Shitty remembers clearly her as a baby, and the first time he babysat her, and how she got mad. She was somewhere between six and nine months, no longer that scary kind of blob that newborns are, something a bit more sturdy and something that could move. He remembers she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and nothing he did could cheer her up. He was on the verge of panic calling Jack and Camilla when she reached up to grab his sunglasses and chew on them. She began to laugh. And Shitty, his heart still racing, had started to laugh too. Jack and Camilla had come home to Shitty and Maisie just shouting and laughing at each other. They had really connected after that, even though Shitty had been smitten with her the first time he saw her.

“Are you sure?” Maisie asks, her voice quiet. Shitty reaches behind him, tugging Maisie onto his lap and giving her a tight hug. She melts into it and her arms wrap around his neck.

“I am positive, Maisie-Daze,” Shitty says, before adding. “Every time I meet a new friend, I don’t love my other friends any less. Love has a way of growing, brah. Your Mom and Steve will love you and your brother or sister. And you are going to love them too, and be the best big sister in the fucking universe,” Shitty knows better than to swear in front of Maisie like that. He has had practice with it, after all. But he does it on purpose because something tells him, Maisie will like it.

And she does, she lets out a giggle as soon as he lets the f-bomb drop. “Uncle Crappy!” She admonishes him through giggles. When they subside, she pulls her head back to look at him. “But are you sure?” She asks, and he hears a hint of a quiver in her voice.

“I am abso-fucking-lutely certain, Corndog. Neither one of your parents will ever love you any less than they love you now. And if you don’t believe your Uncle Crappy, you should ask your Mom.” Shitty finishes, vaguely wondering if he said the correct things or not. Hoping that he did. He watches Maisie and she looks like she is really mulling over what he said. He watches her nod her head.

“Okay, Uncle Crappy. You swore again!” She adds, laughing.

“Please don’t tell your Papa,” Shitty jokes, before adding. “And, remember, you can always come talk to me if you need to, Corndog. Thank you for talking to me about this,” he finishes. He has always spoken to Maisie like she was a little adult. Not so much in the content of his words, that he usually keeps as kid-friendly as possible, but just in the way he talks to her. Shitty isn’t one for higher-pitched voices and dumbing down his speech for kids. He thinks Maisie appreciates it.

“Okay,” Maisie says, and he feels like he is losing her a bit now, that she is shifting from serious mode and wanting to get back into fun mode. She hops off of his lap. “Wanna play hide and seek?” She asks, and Shitty grins.

“Heck yes, I do!”

It is a few hours later. and Jack is finally home. Maisie is sleeping, Shitty had had to do bedtime. He had fun with it though, he read her three books for bedtime even though her parents usually just read one. He and Jack are seated on the couch in the living room. Shitty had already filled Jack in about Maisie’s frankly heartbreaking question. They had talked about it some and he knows Jack will talk to her about it tomorrow. He had sent Camilla a text message too about it. He feels like that was the right course of action. Silence has fallen between the two friends. Shitty is only half paying attention to the documentary that Jack put on. He’s nursing a beer, knowing that it is getting that time when he should leave. Jack’s bedtime is quickly approaching, after all.

“So, you coming to the Halloween party this year?” Shitty broaches, affecting as much nonchalance as he can. Shitty knows Jack does not have a game that night. He also knows that Maisie will be staying the night over at Camilla’s.

“I don’t know, Shits,” Jack says after a beat and Shitty wonders if Jack’s mind had immediately gone to Bitty or not. He decides it is time to go for broke.

“You’ll miss the costume that Bitty is wearing. It is going to be a beaut,” Out of the corner of his eye, because Shitty can be smooth and not outright stare at his best friend, he sees Jack tense for a moment and then relax.

“Really? Eh, that is nice.” Shitty notes that Jack’s attempt at nonchalance pales compared to his. Shitty shifts his position on the couch so that he can stare his friend down.

“Jackie-Jack,” Shitty says, adopting as firm a voice as he can. “You like him. You should come and hang out with him outside of school and outside of those five-minute chats you bros have before you and I go jogging.” He sees Jack opening his mouth, likely to denydenydeny. Shitty interrupts. “Brah, I have seen how you look at him and those coffees you bring him?” Shitty decides not to mention the looks he has seen Jack give Bitty when Bitty is wearing that Falconer's shirt. Jack is not subtle. Jack is also frowning now and Shitty only feels a teeny bit guilty about that.

“Shitty, even if I do find him attractive and even if I do enjoy talking with him… he’s Maisie’s teacher. That seems inappropriate, plus he just got out of a relationship with someone,” Jack is hedging. Shitty supposes his concerns are somewhat valid but they get in the way of Shitty’s dream. The dream that two of his best bros might actually be able to find happiness together. Jack is not subtle in his looks and neither is Bitty. Shitty can fucking taste the pine between the two of them.

“Jack, Trevor was a fucking douche,” Shitty starts with because that is easy. “Their relationship… it was not… well, it was not awful but also not the best. And Bitty is the one who gets to judge whether or not it is too soon, but you gotta’ give him a chance to do that. The teacher thing… maybe it is a little inappropriate. But, brah, you like him. I haven’t seen you like this with anyone in a long time. You deserve to be happy. And, also, it is just a party.” Shitty finishes.

Jack stays quiet for a while, likely mulling it all over. “I will think about it, Shits.”

“Sweet!” Shitty exclaims and he clumsily closes the gap between the two of them on the couch and smacks a wet kiss on Jack’s cheek.

Shitty and Bitty are seated at the kitchen island. Shitty has bravely volunteered as taste-tester. Bittle wants all the treats he is making for the Halloween party to be perfect. He claims half of what Shitty has eaten today is just not good enough, but Shitty, oh Shitty he begs to differ. And has countless times but Bitty just lets out a huff and reworks the recipes. Shitty is certain he will gain fifty pounds tonight alone, and he does not mind one iota.

“I invited Jack to the Halloween party. Brah, I invite him every year but I think this year he might actually come,” Shitty says, hopefully as smoothly as he wants it to be. He might be just a little high but nothing that he can’t function with. Nothing that impairs his taste buds any, a point he has argued over and over with Bitty over the course of the night.

“Jack? He won’t be busy with Maisie and Camilla?” Bitty asks, and there seems to be a strange tone to Eric’s voice and fuck maybe Shitty is higher than he realized because he is having a difficult time deciphering what that tone means.

“He has plans to go with them for trick or treating and then no plans. No game or anything,” Shitty explains and he notices the way Bitty tenses up, pausing in whatever it is he is doing to the baked goods. Probably something to make them epically delicious. Shitty can feel his mouth start to salivate at the thought of what those baked goods will taste like. He wants them in his mouth and down his belly stat! Wait, he is supposed to be focusing on Bitty and Jack and trying to encourage one of them to make maybe think about making the move on the other. In their own time, of course, but hopefully, that own time will be sooner rather than later.

“Seems kind of strange that he won’t be spending the night with them, doesn’t it?” Bitty asks and there is that tone again. Annoyance? Maybe even anger. Bitty’s Georgian twang has gotten thicker. Shitty frowns.

“Not really? I mean Maisie has a bedtime and they might let her stay up a little later because it is Halloween but, she’ll go to bed with plenty of time for Jack to come out and play. And Camilla is probably going to want to spend the evening with Steve, brah.” Shitty explains, hoping that settles whatever concern is in Bitty’s mind. He wonders if Bitty has the same concerns as Jack, the whole appropriateness thing with being Maisie’s teacher. This whole plan of his, half-baked though it is, suddenly seems more complicated if that is the case.

“Shitty. If Jack decides to come to a party and not spend his free evening with his pregnant wife then he is not the sweet man he acts like,” and Shitty wonders if the weed he smoked broke his brain some.

“Pregnant wife? Bro, no. Camilla and Jack are divorced. She’s with Steve and the kid is Steve’s, not Jack’s and…” and suddenly Shitty is laughing, harder than is probably warranted given the situation. Bitty spins on his heels to stare at him and Shitty notices how red his face is. He feels guilty about laughing and tries to stop. He manages to finally stop the laughter and sort of curses the weed gods for making him so giggly. It isn’t right laughing at Bitty right now even if it is kind of funny. Suddenly, the vague comments he has made in the past two months are starting to add up in Shitty’s head.

“Brah, did you think Jack was some kind of like… nice asshole? He’s single as fuck,” and Bitty is definitely Jack’s type but Shitty stops himself from saying that. Bitty is worrying his lower lip something fierce. He looks on the verge of saying something when the timer on the oven dings. He busies himself with getting the baked goods out of it and Shitty watches him, only pausing in his watching, to spin on the barstool for a moment, before he returns to just staring at his friend. Probably creeper level of staring.

“I was a little confused. Lord, Shitty. The man keeps bringing me coffees whenever he drops Maisie off. He always seems so interested in what I have to say, and I could not tell at first if he was just being polite or if it was something more. And then if it was something more that was just wrong because I thought he was with Camilla,” and Bitty lets out a groan. “I probably embarrassed myself around him so many times.” He watches as Bitty hides his face in his hands.

“Bitty, Bits… don’t worry. Jack probably never noticed you saying or doing anything embarrassing,” and if he did, Shitty thinks silently, he probably did not mind. Bitty is silent for a few minutes.

“I hope he comes,” he says, quietly and Shitty breaks out into a grin.

[longsightmyth]

Myth reads The Naming, Chapter 20

Welp I’m just gonna post the one I have and deal with the (possible) schedule in the morning. That’s just who I am as a person I guess.

PELLINOR

Just because they can see Norloch doesn’t mean they’re there yet though. In fact, it takes four days (one night of which is spent in an inn, where a fellow bard stitches up the wounds on Cadvan’s face) before they reach the city itself. The vale of Norloch is pretty, prosperous, and heavily gardened. Our heroes ride through the gates of the city proper just before they close and just before the storm hits.

To be completely honest, if you picture Minas Tirith as portrayed in the LotR movies, you’ve got a good idea of Norloch. There are nine levels, each with their own winding ways and gates of entry. Thankfully only the outer gate closes at sundown, so they can ride up to the fourth circle without being challenged as it starts to drizzle. The guard recognizes Cadvan and lets them through. They get through the gate to the first circle just as the rain really hits. Cadvan leads the way to Nelac’s house, who lets them in promptly.

Maerad saw that Cadvan suddenly looked exhausted and gray, as if he’d been holding himself together by sheer will and now, having reached his goal, was on the verge of collapse.

I know that feel, Cadvan.

Cadvan makes the barest of introductions (basically he tosses out that they’re Maerad and Cai of Pellinor, and Nelac is just like ‘why not at this point’) as Nelac helps Cadvan into a living room, where Saliman has apparently beaten them to Nelac’s house. I guess Rachida really held them up?

Nelac heals Cadvan, who until this point was getting worse and worse, and sends Maerad and Hem off for baths so he can rest after healing Cadvan, and Cadvan can rest after being healed.

Hem is rude to Saliman for approximately ten seconds, at which point he’s too interested in the south to think about being rude. They drop Maerad off and Saliman escorts Hem away.

Maerad bathes and unpacks, and meets Saliman and Hem to go back downstairs. Hem hasn’t bathed, but he has gotten dressed even if he left off the shoes.

Cadvan has already gone to bed when they get downstairs, so Maerad and Hem eat, though Hem does it while utterly enthralled by Saliman and Saliman’s stories of the south.

Maerad asks about Cadvan, and Nelac says he’s healed but needs some sleep, and that he was essentially wounded where his magic was kept. He asks how they all survived an attack by a wight, and Maerad says she blasted the wight. She takes their shock as disbelief and gets defensive.

“Nobody saw it,” she said. “Cadvan was unconscious. I thought Hem was dead. Nobody saw me do it. But I did. You can believe me or not.” She looked up defiantly and caught Nelac’s steady gaze. She held his eye, refusing to be intimidated. At last he stirred, looking away and passing his hand over his brow. To Maerad’s surprise, he looked immensely sad.

He tells her he believes her. End of chapter.

THRONE OF GLASS

For a minute there I thought I’d left a chapter out of my organizer and came to the conclusion that having to do three of them was a fitting punishment. Thankfully, I was just tired and realized my math was right the first time. Have chapters 44 & 45.

Celaena freaks out that the king meets her eyes, as well she should since in Crown of Midnight we are told that the turquoise eyes with molten golden cores are ancestral traits told of in song and story.

Wait no she just thinks me might somehow be able to read her thoughts about the wyrdmarks and Cain pulling some bullshit. Sure, why not.

Later Chaol ruminates on Celaena.

She was incredible now, so fast he had difficulty keeping up with her. She could scale a wall with ease, and had even demonstrated by climbing up to her own balcony with nothing but her bare hands. It unnerved him, especially when he remembered she was only eighteen. He wondered if this was how she’d been before Endovier. She never hesitated when they sparred, but she seemed to sink far within herself, into a place that was calm and cool, but also angry and burning. She could kill anyone, Cain included, in a matter of seconds.

I’ve seen no evidence of this and the word of an incompetent guard captain isn’t going to convince me of it.

After all of this reflection on her badassery, Chaol decides she needs to be protected because she won’t survive another year in Endovier.

Next chapter.

Nox and Celaena spar, or so I assume since the chapter begins with Celaena panting and both of them lowering their swords. Nox teases her about dancing with Dorian at the ball, Celaena warns him to be Super Extra Careful in the coming days. Nox prods her until she drops hints about her Actual Identity, which he then puts together to know who she is. He evidences surprise that she’s a girl.

Seriously is Celaena a gender-neutral name in Adarlan? Otherwise they have pretty strict gender roles going on though. Who knows. Moving on. She tells Nox to run, and the next day he has.

If it was that fucking easy for everyone to get out of the castle, why haven’t they all bolted? I ask you. (Also I note that Celaena doesn’t tell Nox about the secret passageways, making her even more of a half-assed helper)

Oh also Nox calls her Queen of the Underworld. Just cuz.

We swap to Kaltain’s PoV. She notices something funky about Cain, like shadows leaking all around him and stuff.

Shadows seemed to leak from him, flowing onto the stones and the windows and the walls like spilled ink.

But she forgets about it when she gets to Perrington’s table in the hall. Because Reasons.

Celaena’s PoV. She and Dorian are playing chess. She and Dorian eventually make out. Next section.

I assume Dorian left, because Celaena is sitting shivering in bed hoping the monster doesn’t get her the night before the final Test (which comes before the duel).

Celaena falls asleep and dreams of being chased by a horse. This is why I say the early books had more planning, because those of us who have read Heir of Fire will recognize the scene.

She wakes up, pets Fleetfoot (who remains incredibly well-mannered) and goes back to sleep. The next morning she wakes up to learn that Nox is gone (...but he already was?) and the final Test is cancelled. The duel is set for the next day.

End chapter.

COMPARISON

Celaena, if you want your friend safely out of the castle, maybe tell him about that one secret passage that leads directly out of the castle. Fuck’s sake. Do y’all see what I mean about this? (it becomes particularly egregious in Queen of Shadows, remind me to talk about this more when we get there. We’ll also talk more about Hem and Aedion)

Cadvan was not as hale and healthy as we thought, but at least Nelac is here to save the day. Also featuring: Hem’s TREMENDOUS crush on Saliman. No, Ms. Croggon, I know Saliman ends up with a lady. That doesn’t mean Hem doesn’t have a crush the size of a medium planet on him.

Also also featuring one of the main differences in the writing in general and the writing of main characters in specific, namely: Maerad kills things and feels bad about it. Celaena doesn’t kill things but glories in the idea of it and brags about murder until confronted with someone who might present a challenge.

All I’m saying is, the difference is stark.

Likewise, the love interests have totally different interactions with characters and story. Even if Chaol isn’t endgame (and Dorian becomes not endgame) it’s still interesting to see Cadvan vs Chaol & Dorian. Cadvan supports and encourages and sometimes snaps, but he rarely if ever belittles Maerad or her abilities. Chaol (and Dorian) all too often pay lip service to how awesome Celaena is while at the same time deciding she needs to be protected and undermining her at every turn (Chaol and Dorian do this to a lesser degree than Rowan, mind). It’s not even necessarily the characters undermining the protagonist precisely. It is the story undermining her in favor of these three dudes (mostly Rowan and Dorian, admittedly) and then undermining every single other woman in favor of Celaena. It is the oldest of strategies, the kind that elevates the singular woman above other women, showing by implication that it is because she is exceptional that she can run with the boys. Those other women aren’t quite good enough, but she’ll hang out with them if they prop her up enough. So long as Celaena remains more awesome than all other women (never the man she’s involved with, mind. He must be more awesome than all others), it’s all good.

It has not escaped my notice that all of the ‘good’ women are white or white-coded, either. Different cultures? What are they? Only for the evil or uncivilized, obviously.

That’s totally feminism, right?

STATS

Throne of Glass:

Pages: 14

Fragments: 17

Em-Dashes: 29

Ellipses: 7

Pellinor:

Pages: 18

Fragments: 3

Em-Dashes: 2

Ellipses: 4

[timeforelfnonsense]

30 Day Dragon Age OC Challenge

Hello! I’m busy as heck up I miss posting on here so I’m going to try to do this for all of girls! The original post is here and I would love to see y’all do this I love your ocs!! 

Day 1: Introduction

Describe your character in 140 characters. Now have your character describe themself in 140 characters. Also provide any of the basic biographical stats you wish: full name, age, pronouns, gender, class/specializations, etc.

Sylvas Mahariel: 

Headstrong, persuasive, fierce, proud, pragmatic,self-assured, noble  

( art by @rennybu part of this amazing commission they did for me!)

Full name: Sylvas Siona Mahariel 

Age: 18 turning 19 during the blight, 28 at the time of Inquisition (making her 30 post trespasser) 

Height: 5″3 

Hair: Waist length lose black curls that she always keeps up in a bun

Eyes: Grey  

Class: Rouge archer 

Specialization: ranger, Assassin 

Pronouns: She series 

Sylvas was raised by Ashalle in Clan Sabre for the first 18 years of her life. She was always a very responsible and caring person who put the good of the clan and others before herself. She is a thinker and a problem solver, the kind of person who always has a plan. She loves her clan and feels deep pride in her dalish roots. She got her blood writing at 16 before most of the other elves her age. She was apprehensive about leaving the clan, having had almost no human contact her whole life. She is prideful and fierce and tends to put up a wall until she feels comfortable. She is very privet about her emotions and feels burdensome when she tells others about her troubles. She holds herself to a very high standard and can be very hard on herself. She has a silver tongue and can almost always get others to see reason (or at least what she thinks is reason). She is very straight forward and appreciates when people speak plainly with her. She always tries to do what’s right for the greater good but sees ends to a means as well. Even with her small size many people find her intimidating, she takes no shit and definitely gives out the vibe she isn’t one to be walked all over. She has a pretty dry wit herself but she loves people who can make her laugh. 

I am Warden commander Sylvas Mahariel of Clan Sabre. I find it hard to talk about myself as I feel there isn’t much to be said that would be of interest aside from what is already public knowledge. I would say I am a capable leader and someone my friends and charges can rely on. I am practical and pragmatic, I am the person you come to if you need a plan or a problem solved. I value dignity and honor. If you make a promise to me you best keep it, a person is only as good as their word. I can't stand the petty squabbles of nobility who refuse to see the needs of others before their own. I am the first to admit I am not quick to trust but I care deeply for those I do and would do anything for them if the called upon me.  

Ygritte Hawke:

Cocky, independent, charming, witty, rebellious, alluring, bold  

Full name: Ygritte Hawke

Age: 22 during the blight, 23 act one 26 act two, 29 act three and start of Inquisition (Making her 31 post trespasser.)

Height: 5″8

Hair: Ginger hair she always keeps short with her signature Bettie page bangs. 

Eyes: Blue

Class: Mage

Specialization: Force Mage, Sprite healer 

Pronouns: She series

Ygritte was born and raised in Lothering. Being a mage she and her sister spent a lot of time with her father. They were very close and she gets her sarcastic, humorous nature from him. Her parents were strict about her using her magic and very protective. Ygritte is very rebellious though so that didn’t really stop her. She would also sneak out all the time.She was always very pretty and charming, turning the heads of many young men and ladies in her village. However due to her life as an apostate she never really allowed anything to become more than a fling for fear of being found out.She has always been a big flirt and very confident in herself. She’s super independent and very used to looking out for herself. In some ways this is a really good thing but it also tends to make her a little self-centered at times. She is headstrong and bold, never one to shy away from sharing her beliefs even when they are controversial. The Kirkwall gang was her first group of real close friends outside of her siblings and she really flourished with them around her. She is clever and thinks fast on her feet. Isabella says she could have been a rouge in another life! She’s the life of the party and wants to live her life to the fullest. As she has grown up she had become a little less selfish and a bit more thoughtful. She is very protective of her friends and family and would cross hell and high water to help them.

Well hello, 

You can call me Hawke. Before you ask yes it’s only Hawke  Miss Ygritte if you are nasty. I suppose I’m the champion of Kirkwall though I’m not sure if they let you keep the nice title after your boyfriend sticks it to the Chantry? How would I describe myself? I’m Clever and witty and down for any adventure. I know who I am and what I want and I’ve never been afraid to go after it. I’m not what you’d call discrete. I’m opinionated but I’m always ready to back up my arguments, I’m not all talk believe it or not! I’m a real looker and I know it. I think it’s a waste of time and energy to not see oneself in the best light. I just want to live a good life, make some memories and some changes. 

Ashalle Lavellan: 

Compassionate, persistent, clever, free-spirited, trusting, optimistic.

Full name: Ashalle Fellenaste Lavellan 

Age:22 at the start of Inquisition, 24 by the end (making her 26 by the end of trespasser)

Height: 5″0

Hair: Silver hair that on a good days holds a soft, romantic curl but out in the field gets pretty wild.

Eyes: Green

Class: Duel Dagger Rouge 

Specialization:  Assassin

Pronouns: She series

Ashalle was raised by her mother, grandmother and aunt in her clan in the free marches.Her Grandmother was her clan’s keeper, her aunt the first and her mother the clan healer. She however is not a mage like her father. Her father died when she was a teenager, they were very close and the loss deeply affected her. Ashalle is a total hippie. She lives her life following her impulses and her gut. She hate’s feeling caged or held back in anyway. She has a huge heart and is quick to trust and let others in. However it would be unwise to break that trust. She has a pretty nasty taste for vengeance and her sweet demeanor can sour pretty quickly if she feels you have wronged her or those she cares for. She is working on being more even tempered but it doesn't always work out that way. She loves fiercely and with everything she has.She is an optimist and very persistent. She’d never give up on someone she cared about no matter what. She feels a sense of loyalty to all elves dalish or city. She  dreams of seeing her people thriving and living well once more. She wants to know everything and anything there is to know about elves. Even if she isn’t a mage she loves magic and respects mages and supports their freedom. She holds so much compassion and I think that’s why she stayed on as inquisitor after the breach was closed the first time. She saw so much hurt happening and she couldn’t stand by and watch others suffer when she knew she could help. She is whimsical and curious always ready to do something new and exciting. She is extremely emotional and this mixed with her impulsive nature gets her into trouble sometimes.

Andaran atish’an,

They call me Ashalle. Oh hallashit how would I describe myself? Ummm I would say I’m bright! I have a knack for elven history and legend! I love stories and songs and I am always ready to share them with anyone who will lend an ear! I know I am a good friend, I would do anything for my loved ones. I never give up on someone I care for. Not ever; no matter what. I do have a bit of a mean streak. Not a mean streak per say, I just I get so angry sometimes and sometimes I just do things and I don’t think and I make a mess of everything. I’m working on it and I’m lucky to surrounded with more even tempers to help me. I love pretty things and sweets. I know that sounds silly but growing up with my clan I didn’t get to have fancy things or sweets. Don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t trade my upbringing for all the gowns and cake in the world! I’m pretty easy to get on with and I make friends quickly! I want to do right by the world and leave it better than I found it. I want to see my people thriving and safe once more. I want us to know what we have lost even if we don’t like everything we find. I know I am always growing and changing and I think that is probably the best adventure; growing strong and finding more of myself.

[monotonemanday]

Our Days Divided - Mystic Messenger University AU - Chapter 3 Misunderstandings

Chapter 3! Y’all want a whole chapter of bickering? Because Samantha and Saeyoung have sharp tongues!!! 

Enjoy!

“Uhhh, Hello? I’m looking for a…I don’t know if this is correct, it just says V? That seems weird to me though. V…That’s kind of scary if you think about it. Mysterious. Like what could it mean? Shit. I’m inner monologueing out loud. Uhm, is V here?” Samantha was walking around the large art room. It was empty and eerily quiet. Paint brushes were soaking, easels were stacked against the walls. She was glad no one had been around to hear her embarrassing herself. That was until she heard soft chuckling.

“Haha V is a pretty weird name, isn’t it? But it’s just a nickname. I’ll be out in a minute!”

Sigh. Great, she did make an ass out of herself. Honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She continued wandering around the room until she came across an easel with a medium sized canvas that someone clearly had been working on up until a few minutes ago. Sam was shocked and her eyes widened at the sight of the reference photo and what the painting had become so far. “Wow, V was it? This is beautiful! Do you know her by any chance?”

V had walked out from the back supply room with some acrylic paints. Samantha gulped. Great, this wasn’t just some art geek she had acted a fool in front of, it was Jihyun Kim. One of the prominent tuition kids. And he was hot. “I actually don’t know her. I just saw her in the courtyard earlier and couldn’t help but take her picture. Someone like that is definitely worth photographing. Plus I liked this particular photo so much I figured I’d try my hand at painting it.” The mint haired hottie settled in next to Samantha staring at the canvas for a couple of seconds in silence. “It’s coming along I think. Anyway, what can I help you with?” He stuck his hand out towards Samantha who gripped it for a light shake. “I’m-”

“Hot. No, Tim! Kim! I mean Kim! Jihot Kim. Jihyun! …oh my.” Samantha’s face was on fire, she hung her head in shame still lightly shaking the man’s hand. “What I meant is you’re Jihyun Kim…and I am a ridiculous human being.”

“No,” V had grabbed Sam’s chin and lifted her face to meet his eye line, “You’re Samantha Dae, and it’s very nice to meet you.” His smile was dazzling but due to her embarrassment, Sam was unphased. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, great. You already know who I am. This bodes well for me.”

“I assure you I’ve only heard good things.” V realized he was still holding onto Sam’s face and quickly released her. The two backed away from each other abruptly.

“Liz.” Sam broke the silence.

“Excuse me?”

“The girl in the photo and the painting. She looks like her friends would call her Liz.” Sam gave V a sideways smirk and in turn, a smile crept across his lips.

“My friend Jumin learned a new term and I think he may be right in his assumption that you, in fact, are a dime, Samantha.”

“That’s me. Ha ha…all the curves in all the right places ha ha…amirite?” She wished she could just stop talking. She had no control over what was coming out of her mouth. “I’m sorry you are just so tall, no, hot, no hard! No! Talented! You are just so talented and work so hard! Is what I mean to say. I admire you from the things I’ve heard.”

“Thank you, Samantha. I don’t know a whole lot about you, just that we have Econ together. And of course, the information that Jumin gathered on you from his scholarship kid research.”

Suddenly he became painfully unattractive. Scholarship kid research? She knew this was related to the group Kaeli was trying to form. Here she had scolded her friends for making assumptions about the tuition kids, and now she hears they were researching them like they had something to fear or be worried about? Like the had to prepare to deal with them as “untouchable’s”

“I’ll have to let him know that you have such a way with words.” V gave Samantha a chuckle and a light-hearted wink. He thought they were being friendly but suddenly the room got cold.

“Yup. I sure do. Anyway, here.” Samantha pushed a slip of paper into Jihyun’s chest. “I came here to ask if the art department could lend us these supplies and paint a few of these pieces for our next production. If not I’ll figure something else out. Thanks.” She turned coldly and sharply, briskly walking toward the door. V reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Samantha wait I-” Before she could turn around to release herself from his grip, someone had grabbed V’s own wrist and pulled it toward them.

“Don’t touch her. Not cool.” Saeran’s mint eyes sent a slight chill down V’s spine.

“Easy, Saeran. Down boy. Mr. Handsome doesn’t realize he’s insulted the lady. And I thought all rich kids had impeccable manners.” Saeyoung stood smirking in the doorway.

“Do you guys really have to follow me everywhere? You’re like a couple of leaches. Just drop it. Let’s go.” Samantha rolled her eyes and lightly stomped out of the art room. Irritated was an understatement. The twin boys shrugged at each other, Saeyoung saluted the mint-haired tuition kid, and the two followed after Samantha.

Samantha, Saeyoung, and Saeran were on their way to their part-time jobs. Samantha and Saeyoung, much to her demise and his pleasure, worked in the same small Record Shop. They sold new and vintage vinyl as well as comics and different odds and ends. Saeran worked a block away at a small local flower shop.

“So before that uncomfortable mess, what was that flustered trainwreck we witnessed?!?” Saeyoung elbowed Sam in the side.

“Ow! Cut it out!”

“But really  Sam, I’ve seen you be dorky but that was Saeyoung level embarrassment. Like, you were possessed.” Saeran joined in on the teasing. He grabbed Samantha by the shoulders and began to shake her side to side, and back and forth. “Saeyoung! Get out of Samantha!!!”

“Hey!!! Stop shaking me and please watch your phrasing!” Saeran listened to her plea and let her go. She dusted off her shoulders.

“Yeah, Saeran. Watch your phrasing. Besides, Samantha would never let me inside of her.” The twins shared a smirk and a high five while Sam covered her ears.

“Stop! Oh my god. For the love of my sanity, please god. Stahp! That is so gross!!”

The three had reached the front of the flower shop.

“Alright bro, Have a good time at the shop. Don’t be afraid of the swarms of girls that come to flirt with you every day. They may seem scary but really all they’re after is your di-” Saeyoung was cut off by a swift elbow to the rib cage.

“Seven! Shut up! I am not spending a whole shift with you and your big mouth!” Samantha stepped in front of Saeyoung and gave Saeran a quick peck on the cheek.

“Sam! What the hell?!  Quit kissing me with your gross chapped lips!.” Searan was rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks bright pink. Samantha gave him a sideways smile.

“Have a good day at work, Sae. And you know I can take care of myself, but thanks for stepping in earlier.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Saeran mumbled his barely audible response. He wiped his cheek and quickly entered the shop.

The day was moving so slow. Samantha was flipping through a comic leaning against the front counter. Saeyoung was leaning next to her messing with the iPod that hooked up to the PA system in the store.

“Pick a song, or a break the iPod, Tomato Head.” Seven narrowed his eyes at Sam. So that’s how it was going to be today? Alright. the game is afoot.

“Hey, Samantha, why do you dress like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a character from a 90’s Anime.”

“Because it’s cute. Why do you dress like a pothead skater from the matrix?”

“I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie!!!”

“If that’s how you see it.”

“Whatever. Why is it so dead in here today?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Why? Hot date with  one of your robots?”

“HEY! You’re just jealous because I’ve made robots so advanced that you CAN date them.”

The two continued to bicker, not noticing a black Mercedes Benz pull up out front. A driver opened the back passenger side door and let someone out. The bell to the shop chimed and Samantha and Saeyoung both gripping each other’s collars looked towards the door to find someone they could only assume the identity of. Jumin Han.

“Pardon me, I am just here to browse.” Jumin began to look around the small shop, his driver standing by the door.

“Yeah, man. Welcome in. Let us know if you need help with anything.”

Samantha watched him for a few moments. He was incredibly handsome. Sophisticated even in his casual wear. She expected him to have this haughty air about him but instead, he seemed so peaceful. Saeyoung broke her trance.

“Eye’s back in your head, man. Dude’s wearing a turtleneck tucked into pressed khaki pants. That 90’s aesthetic. It’s like he was made for you, nerd.”

“At least he puts effort into his wardrobe.”

“Samantha. Why must you hurt me so?”

“Because you’re irritating. Hey, do you want to do a little training after work today?”

“Nooooo! Vanderwood always yells at me.”

“That’s because you’re always messing around! Besides you need a lot of work if you’re going to beat me for the next physical trial exams.” Samantha knew that would push Saeyoung’s buttons.

“The only reason the great 707 lost to Smelly Sammy, was because the stats were rigged!!”

“Oh really? If they were rigged, why didn’t you just fix them yourself, hacker boy?”

“It’s called Integrity.”

“No, it’s called you have tiny biceps.”

“Just because you can do an insane amount of pull-ups doesn’t mean my biceps are small, She-Hulk! My muscles are huge!” Saeyoung’s glasses were fogging up he was in such a rage.

“Excuse me, but I like this. Is this what one would refer to as ‘witty banter’?” Jumin had stepped up to the pair and interrupted their incessant arguing.

“Well, my responses are witty. His are just noise.”

Jumin chuckled at Sam’s curt response. “Well I didn’t find what I was looking for but Miss Dae, I was hoping later you could meet with me to clear up a misunderstanding from earlier today.” He handed her a small business card. “Please call that number and let them know if you can make it.” Jumin didn’t say anything else. His driver opened the shop door and ushered him into the car.

“Well Sammy, looks like you are going to owe that guy, and the guy with the pastel hair, an apology.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Well you assumed the worst of them 'researching’ us, but there’s no way I guy like THAT, so unfamiliar with basic human interaction, had any bad intentions. Besides…” Saeyoung confidently walked away from Samantha. “Didn’t that Jihyun guy say the super rich one called you a dime?”

Samantha rolled her eyes and dismissed her friend, unable, however, to hide the blush on her face. She took out her cellphone and dialed the number on the card.

Saeyoung was organizing some of the records that had gotten mixed up and Samantha ran by him, throwing on her jacket.

“Bye, Seven! Lock up tight! Don’t forget training! Tell Vanderwood I’ll be late. See ya! Love ya! Mwuah!” She lazily threw a kiss in his direction.

“Sam, what the hell?! You’re leaving me for some hot piece of trust fund ass?!” The words fell on deaf ears because she was already out of the door.

His back was facing the counter and he was cutting the stems for a specialty arrangement. His head was pounding. All he could hear was whispering and giggling from a group of girls huddled in the corner of the flower shop. They had been coming up to him for hours now, asking him ridiculous questions and attempting to flirt with him. Saeran kept his responses short and simple. This was an everyday occurrence. He didn’t understand why girls were constantly in the shop flirting with him. However he hated that even he had to admit, he looked pretty adorable in his work apron. People always flirted with Saeyoung but he was outgoing and super fit. Saeran was a bit scrawny and didn’t really interact with people. Samantha and Liz were always telling him how handsome he was but he just never thought much of it.

“Excuse me, handsome flower boy.”

He turned around prepared to deal with the customer, holding in his irritation but instead when he saw Samantha in front of him his eye’s lit up.

“Sam, what are you doing here?” Wait, why was he so excited? He was sweating internally. He had to push that excitement way down and bury it. Their friendship was super important to him and there was nothing worth jeopardizing it.

“So is this how popular you are every day. I had to fight my way through a sea of ladies just to get to the counter.”

“What do you want Samantha?”

“I need you to make me a really nice flower arrangement. For a peace offering. And then you and I are going to get dressed up. And deliver it to a very prominent trust fund kid at a very fancy high rise.”

Saeran let out a deep sigh and made his way to the back room of the shop. Samantha knew that was his way of saying fine, he’d do it. Samantha sat on a stool in the corner of the shop waiting for Saeran’s shift to end. She laughed at all the girls trying to flirt with him, and how dismissive he was. She even told some of the girl’s things they should say to him and pretended to help them flirt.

The shift had come to an end, and the sun was beginning to set. Saeran threw his apron on the counter and went to the back to retrieve the flowers he prepared. Samantha hung up his apron for him and waited outside.

“Alrighty, let’s get out of here and go deliver these I guess.” Saeran had shoved the flowers into Samantha’s arms and walked at a quick pace. Samantha looked at the flowers and took in their wonderful scent. The arrangement was beautiful and despite how much he acted indifferently, Samantha knew Saeran put a lot of effort into it. She picked up a light jog to catch up with him, now walking side by side.

“Whatever you say, flower boy.” Samantha holding the flowers, and Saeran with his hands in his pockets, both staring straightforward in comfortable silence, Shy smiles tugging at their lips.

[redscullyrevival]

I finally saw The Last Jedi and I liked it - what I wasn’t entirely anticipating is that I also really enjoyed it! I will now commence bullet point blabbering about the film below the cut and it shall not be spoiler free. 

I now understand all the raging nerd-hate this movie has been getting - this film aimed to straight up burn this motherfucker down, huh? 

Loved it. 

Personally I was very… underwhelmed with The Force Awakens. It was a fun romp and I loved the new characters and the nostalgic twinge of the familiar but oh boy the entire thing felt far too beholden to the pedestal of A STAR WARS FILM! in slow steady blinking lights. 

The Force Awakens has that octane Abrams pacing but it is also just so damn stiff. So ridged. And obviously deeply afraid to wander off the path. 

I understand that the first re-introduction to such a beloved franchise playing it (excruciatingly) safe made sense; but I was still upset with the final product, with the final choice to deliberately aim to be nothing more than what I’ve seen and felt before.

The Last Jedi on the other hand turns out to be a long, cozy, chat about how A STAR WARS FILM! should be struck down so something new can grow. 

Hallelujah!

The visceral attack this film must feel like to a particular kind of Star Wars fan is no doubt very intense and in all honestly I do have some pity for folks who found this new film to be dismissing the legacy they feel connected to in deeply personal ways. 

*clappy hands*

But oh, I loved it so much!

Every twist and turn, every aspect of this film pushes the anticipated rhythm of A STAR WARS FILM! away; all the momentum the film gains is for the final purpose of rejecting everything easy and expected, for pushing past, well, the past. 

Hot damn, the nerds are kind of justified for once.

The Last Jedi came for them! It went so hard! The more someone had dug themselves into the belief that STAR WARS was a solid thing they knew and understood on a fundamental core level then the deeper the cut would go as the film raged on. 

The anger, the hate from certain fandom circles makes total sense. 

Because this film done changed the Star Wars. 

And it was about fuckin’ time. 

So prepared was I to sit through The Empire Strikes Back: The Remix that the intense gut fans-hate-it reaction the film got opening friggin’ day got me all kinds of delighted, how I saw it such a reaction signaled that this new film would be something actually new. 

And the fresh air of The Last Jedi comes from some pretty drastic subversion of A STAR WARS FILM! It is down right beautiful.

Ultimately, if the choice to change Star Wars was just to grim dark and edge it up then it’d be pretty terrible I agree, but The Last Jedi managed to alter and course correct massive change without breaking the frame of the how and the why and to whom these STAR WARS stories are told. 

I mean, in my opinion anyway. 

I felt the film put a lot of care and love into explaining to the audience what was right and natural about change, explaining that strength could be found in letting go of our nostalgia and expectations and opening up to new experiences in old sandboxes. I felt The Last Jedi was an oddly gentle film that knew it was going to frighten some while igniting others and did it’s best to show it’s good will towards signaling hope and legend and legacy into a shared experience. 

*shrug shrug shrug* YA FEELIN’ ME?!

I know I already have a spoiler warning above the cut but now I am going to really get up in this film and push my eyeball up against it’s eyeball and hey if you wanna see all particulars feel free, but this is now specific spoiler territory, thanks and happy holidays:

I was so enthralled with Finn and Rose’s quest and I was ecstatic when it didn’t work out.

The two went on a space goose chase for a daring rescue mission and got into ruffian escapades and thought on the fly and were brave and funny and were livin’ that STAR WARS life - and they failed spectacularly.

Their mission, their rip’roarin’ escapade, was in fact a brash and ill thought out plan that almost got absolutely everyone killed. 

Precious, lovely, daring, and confident Poe Dameron was a horrible leader. 

His belief in a desperate gamble; his total confidence that he was in the right and the stuffy Vice Admiral didn’t know when to take a risk; the audience knowing his qualities as sure fire STAR WARS leadership was all for nothing and people died for it. 

I said HOT DAMN!

This film made General Organa and Vice Admiral Holdo, two older women who don’t run around with blasters in hand but who have no less twinkle in their eyes the true leaders of the resistance. The true bearers of the spark of rebellion. It was their matured tried and true mentorship that ended up saving them all - not the cocky charisma of a younger good looking man.

Also Leia is confirmed Force Sensitive™ bringing to an end decades long old guard fans bickering and moaning over if she has pretend magical powers or not and why if she did that’d be “not right”. 

(Seeing Carrie Fisher bathed in moonlight was emotional)

And then, oh man, Rey’s parents? Wonderful, soulful, bright and strong Rey? Because she is in a STAR WARS film and can use the force everyone including people who’ve never seen The Force Awakens assumed her parents were a part of the legacy, a part of the grand scheme.

NOPE.

In fact, to really drive it home just so fans can’t possibly be confused, Kylo Ren tells her “You’re nobody. You don’t belong in this story.”

He said that with his mouth words!

But there she is all the same, good old Rey. And she’ll remain. Without being so and so from extended universe’s kid or a character only in some comic book or Luke’s secret child or whatever. 

Rey is just a character made to be there and to use the force because, hey, it’s a STAR WARS MOVIE! We needed someone to be the Luke this time around so why not Rey? 

PS we shattered Luke’s lightsaber and made Rey indebted to jack squat of this franchise. She searched for her purpose and her parents and only found the strength of herself and her own choices. Peace out!

That tickled me senseless, having the cultural institution of STAR WARS being full on assaulted for two and a half hours.

That tickled my pickle. 

The Last Jedi is hyper self aware media, but it was still fun. It was still a good time but it laid down hard and fast with changing the lifeblood of STAR WARS that even I, who is nowhere near as big a fan as someone you could probably hit with a stone’s throw, admit to feeling some uncomfortable chafing at times while watching.

STAR WARS is a legit cultural institution by the way, I didn’t just say that for the fun of it - that’s absolutely 100% true. 

Star Wars as a media, as a franchise, has an ebb and flow of patterns, style, symbols, and motifs that dictate a tonal cohesiveness which designates something as recognizable as STAR WARS.  

What I’m doing when I all caps “Star Wars” is I’m trying to defer attention to the known concepts and ideas of Star Wars media as a whole cultural institution and experience rather than just invoking a cluster of films, only I’m trying to do all that just through the written word.

Star Wars is a film and STAR WARS is all that which defines the franchise as well as our shared cultural understanding of said franchise, ya fell me? That’s how I approach talking about this kinda stuff online anyways. I feel most will understand what I’m doing with the capitalization and all that but hey, now ya know ‘fo sure. 

Anyway

Shit y’all! Luke Skywalker is a funky sore spot huh? Loved that too. 

Lets get to that Kylo Ren:

Kylo Ren’s entire set up is that he ain’t Vader and fuck, ain’t that the truth. But in a good way. Duh Kylo Ren is not Vader, he is a different character. And, now, he isn’t even remotely similar to Vader as a STAR WARS character. 

Everything about Kylo Ren is opposed to Darth Vader; while he gain’s definition with this new film Kylo Ren didn’t even remotely start out as a mysterious villain like Vader originally did. 

We all knew, in that STAR WARS fashion, that Kylo Ren had to be tied to the legacy. We all knew that he had to be tied to the lifeblood of the franchise. And Ben Solo absolutely is. 

We knew this before Han ever revealed it through dialogue and that’s why it wasn’t a big reveal in The Force Awakens. Of course Ben Solo turned to the dark side and is Kylo Ren. Of course. Of course he has some weird Vader obsession, the character needed to emulate Vader so as to take up his mantel in the narrative and in the franchise. We needed a baddie in a helmet, stat!

But oh, look what has happened though, oh man:

Luke Skywalker in a moment of fear almost murdered his own nephew  -because he is in STAR WARS. 

We all know if there are Jedi then there is a light and a dark side of the force; we all know that if you are a master of and a teacher in the ways of the force you open yourself and your students up to a choice; and we all know that fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. 

Kylo Ren being a direct response to Luke friggin’ Skywalker is as far from Vader as you can get but fits just so right within the cleansing fire that is The Last Jedi. 

The hero of the first saga ignited the villain of the next. 

That ain’t very STAR WARS and something tells me that is the biggest kick to the crotch for a lot of folks. 

I, of course, dug the hell outta that choice.

Kylo Ren is actually interesting now. Mischief managed.

The very not subtle social commentary the film was dishing out was a pretty pie to boot. Bit on the nose but hey, ain’t that STAR WARS at least? Didn’t even have to dig this time around, gems sitting right on the surface.  

… Damn, I’m tired. I still have plenty to talk about though. Hmm, well, lets close this out on a different note (and that’s a pun):

The music of STAR WARS is bonkers recognizable. Like, I keep saying Star Wars is a cultural institution that uses motifs and symbols as devices for defining itself, right? Yeah, the use of music in this film is a pitch perfect example of that. 

The Last Jedi seamlessly flows from theme to theme, with specific well known scores highlighting emotional call backs and in-story referenced characters - the use of music is the most traditionalist aspect of this new film (they even shook up the editing this time around - shock and awe). 

Smart though, if they fucked with how STAR WARS did music then even an impassive twerp like me would be pretty upset. 

For my money, the musical score is still the best thing about a good old Star War.  

[thatsjustsupergirl]

ur post about fic & racism in the supergirl fandom really got me thinking (especially about my own biases so thank you) but also like, how there’s this incredibly pervasive but subtle new form of racism I haven’t seen b4 in other fandoms? Like on one hand u have this loud condemnation of how racist monel is & how he was a slave owner blabh blah but no corresponding attention given to the existing Black characters. 1/4

I get wlw not wanting to write m/f fic but a lot of the fandom doesn’t reblog (or make) any of the gifsets, they don’t meta for him they don’t call for more screen time for Mehcad. Same for M’gann. SO many posts talking about how awful monel is compare him to Lena and strangely don’t mention the Black female character who also came from an oppressive society to become a hero? And there are like, idk, 4 people? Who write or post wlw fic with M’gann in it? 2/4

Same with Maggie. A huge segment of fandom decided Floriana is white (even tho hollywood clearly won’t cast her in roles for white women) so they use that as an excuse to exclusively stan the very light skinned white wlw. And the way it carries over to the characters, like, okay Flo is white? but Maggie is absolutely treated like a woc in how parts of fandom aggressively ignore her & find ways to demonize her character while overtly supporting lighter skinned characters ¾

And that same part of the fandom doesn’t ever seem to create content for Lucy or Vasquez either. IDK this isn’t something u can probably explore with stats but ur post really got me thinking and it just feels really gross now bc I see all these posts condemning racism but there’s still this extreme perpetuation of privileging white characters at the same time? & I haven’t seen this particular trend in fandom b4 4/4

Oh, anon, this made my day. I have a bunch of notes waiting in a doc to address the whole Mon-El thing with regard to the racist undertones and the rhetoric used by the show to frame his storyline, and I will do my best to write it before the season comes back again, because I genuinely think they tried to aim high and just … missed completely. (But I make no promises because my thesis defense is on Tuesday.)

To your first point re: fandom attitudes – I was surprised in the early half of S2 when so many people came out of the woodwork making posts in the main tag like “wait, why did they get rid of Kara/James??” because, oh right, nobody acted like they cared for almost twelve straight months. If y’all were so okay with this ship, where were you to acknowledge its social significance when it was canon? Where are you now? Why hasn’t there been an outpouring of tweets week after week at the execs and the writers for sidelining an interracial couple in favor of what we’re getting, especially since the storyline literally handwaved away human trafficking and slavery as minor plot points?

Not only that, when there’s unrealized potential for a non-canon ship there is typically an outpouring of fic in response, and while there’s been a statistically significant amount of new Karolsen fic in S2 because it’s pretty easy to top zero percent, the writing there is not keeping pace with any of the other dude-involved pairings. 

And you’re right, anon: it is not possible to prove anything with stats. HOWEVER, thanks to the addition of these new characters for S2, I *am* at the point now where it’s possible to see correlation between character race and fan engagement with different pairing choices. And the bias is there, whether it’s in the het pairings, the femslash, or even the m/m pairings. The whole reason I started tracking fic outputs in the first place was that any attempt to have this conversation last year devolved into yelling and finger-pointing because “you have no proof!” that racial bias is a thing. Except, yanno, all the POC who live with it daily saying that it’s a thing. Well, congratulations y’all: your choices leave digital footprints behind that are pretty easy to follow and chart for everyone to see.

This isn’t actually a new problem, by the way – racism and preferencing of white pairing happens a lot, in almost every fandom. The only difference maybe is that I’ve experimented with quantifying it, which is not something that people usually do when they study fandoms or fan behavior.

It pains me to no end that M’gann has been so overlooked, because her story has just as many dark character beats to it as Lena’s, if not more, plus the added bonus of her sharing a sense of “otherness” with Kara in a way that few other people can. And there is no way the disinterest in that pairing isn’t about race, because there are a whole bunch of ships from S1 between white women who’d never even met each other in canon that have more romantic fics than M’gann/anyone.

And the nonsense about Floriana, which I’ll remind everyone again was started by a white girl, had a demonstrable chilling effect on interest in Sanvers as a pairing. Like. I can actually show that on paper. And you’re absolutely right with what you said above, which bears repeating: Maggie is absolutely treated like a woc in how parts of fandom aggressively ignore her & find ways to demonize her character.

There’s also a treatment of Floriana herself that reminds me uncomfortably of how people went out of their way to demonize Naya Rivera’s personal life whenever she reminded the world she was black instead of just “very tan.” And a lot of the rhetoric people are using to talk about Floriana’s racial heritage is almost verbatim the same as what you’ll find on white supremacist discussion boards about Italian people. I’d love to think this is an accident, but I’ve made some people pretty angry for pointing this out in the past, so I suspect it’s at least partially deliberate.

Lucy was another case that drove me insane, for two reasons:

The vast majority of femslash fans flat-out ignored her as a romantic choice even though there were a whole lot of good reasons to ship her with either Kara or Alex, and a whole lot less negative reasons not to. (And it’s not like Supercat was already dominating the scene before Lucy’s character was introduced. That ship only became popular after the movie Carol came out during the winter hiatus of S1.)

People had the same fight last year about whether or not Lucy counted as a WOC and ultimately insisted that the answer was no. But then people kept on ignoring her anyway like somehow dubiously legal boss/employee relationships, potential treason, and incest were more logical bases for attraction.

Also, to the people who have been like “oh yay we could’ve had Dichen as Maggie, a real WOC” like somehow this would have made the fandom love her more – you’re full of shit. If you mean that, why has there been so little fic about Dichen as Roulette? Like, last year there were a whole bunch of shipfics featuring Livewire. There was Kara/Siobhan. And yet … no dark scenarios of Supergirl/Roulette? No Alex ones? There were even a bucketload of those for each Danvers sister + Max Lord, and this fandom isn’t even that into dudes. You’re telling me no one is interested in this kind of hero/villain dynamic with the Asian chick and somehow that’s not also about race?

tl;dr I suspect that a decent chunk of this problem is the result of subconscious bias, but some of it’s not. And what’s really sad about it is that, for all the talk on Tumblr about representation being important, we’re really doing no better as media producers than Hollywood when it comes to race. If anything, we might actually be doing worse.