#but I just need them to know how INSANELY qualified I am for this simple job

[eggs-love-loki]

I love spending two hours working on a cover letter and application for a twelve hour a week summer job

[slug-demon]

(this was too long for a reply so here's my thoughts in an addition, thanks for your input @justproshiprants)

i don't necessarily disagree with you about the definition of proship, but i still don't think i'd label myself a proshipper because usually proship related media or content is stuff i am personally not comfortable engaging with. if your definition of proship was the universal deciding definition of proship, sure, i'd fall into that criteria, but despite my belief in letting people do what they want and it not warranting harassment i still don't think i'd engage with proshippers much because like. that's where you find the taboo content. the taboo content i do not want to look at! obviously things would be easier if there was a stronger consensus of what proship actually means but unfortunately a lot of self-identified proshippers cannot agree and a lot of anti-shippers will reactionarily label content that makes them the slightest bit uncomfortable (ex. age gaps between adults) as proship material when... i really don't think it is. and when a lot of anti-shippers like to equate the word/label proship with serious accusations of harmful behavior it kind of kills productive discussion of what proship actually entails.

i skimmed your blog and found a lot of stuff i agreed with. i also found some things i don't completely agree with or don't agree with at all. that's fine. i'm not so hung up on the 'proship' in your name that i have to disagree with everything you have to say. i'm also not so hung up on what other people do in their own spaces when it's properly filterable. to be honest, i think you probably do a better job than i do marking discussion about taboo/serious topics, so kudos for that.

my rant wasn't really thought out super thoroughly, mostly just a ramble spurred on by frustration about people's weird ideas of how fiction works. if anti-ship people were less reactionary when something makes them uncomfortable or if proshippers were less vehemently defensive about a simple label, we could have some real productive discussion about what qualifies as proship and what doesn't, and maybe finally flesh out the facts about fiction versus reality. obviously it would be naive to pretend that fiction doesn't affect reality considering propaganda is a whole sub-genre of political fiction that has been proven to work- but the idea that writing/reading/drawing something taboo or unacceptable/potentially illegal irl (according to what my idea of morals is) is worthy of harassment or real-life discrimination is fucking INSANE. it's all too black and white 'us vs them' mentality that we need to move past in order to properly engage with each other (or figure out how not to) in a respectful and respectable manner.

as a final thought, i don't want to pretend like proshippers are not capable of using their pro-fiction rhetoric to behave predatorily to vulnerable people. i also do not want to pretend like anti-ship people are incapable of doing just as predatory things. i don't want to generalize and say one is more common than the other, because i don't engage in either space, so i literally just... do not know firsthand or secondhand. if fandom was a more widespread concept maybe somebody would be able to reliably research if there is a trend between proship spaces and predatory behaviors and how to avoid that more reliably if there is a trend, but until then i think it's unfair to assume something that serious when there's no substantial correlation between proshipping and predatory behavior. just... use internet etiquette. don't get too friendly with someone you don't know, and don't assume you know someone when there are many ways to lie to a person and many ways it is made easier with the barrier of an online-only relationship.

do what you want, tag your nsfw and tag your taboo or potentially triggering content, and live your life without the idea that your enjoyment of fiction has to hinge on a label or what some people think of that label/people who enjoy the things you do. be prepared to consider criticism and be prepared to think for yourself. i think that's just the best that anyone can do in this whirlwind of arguing.

tldr: anti-shippers are frequently reactionary, and proshippers can be excessively defensive, on top of engaging with things that could turn dangerous if not conscientious. i wish people would stop engaging with rage bait and argumentative posts so fandom could agree on what proship actually means and fandom could bring back 'don't like don't read' attitudes.

look. proship vs anti-ship is another one of those debates that is treated too black and white for my tastes. i do not consider myself proship and a lot of people who choose to describe themselves as proship make content that makes me deeply uncomfortable and conflicts with my personal moral perception of the world. however i am STRONGLY anti-censorship and i feel like a lot of anti-ship people really do not understand the implications of the stuff they seem to want. like i hate to say it but i like ao3 because you can host just about anything there. you never have to worry about 'sensitive' topics being banned unjustly. and like, you can't really ban a topic all together in most situations because it blocks productive portrayal and discussion around real-life topics which is important. i would rather have uncomfortable and weird fanfic on the site i use than have to worry about the website being bought out or changing management or some shit and starting censoring any mention of 'distasteful' or 'inappropriate' topics. sometimes writing contains rape, incest and other uncomfortable topics in a non-glorifying or productive light and censoring those works would be unfair. also the idea of all art needing to have a purpose or a sort of productivity to it comes from capitalistic ideals about art as a product and not as expression, so i also don't think the gross underage incest rape fic should be censored either. if you start censoring, where will the line be drawn? how will you maintain the line? what will you do if societal and/or popular opinion of what should be allowed changes? it's all deeply rooted in capitalism and exclusion and othering/'i'm better than you' ways of thinking. so i'm not proship or anti ship i'm anti censorship and pro minding my damn business when something unrelated to me makes me uncomfortable. ao3 has tagging. block the tags from your searches. it is that easy.

[yellowocaballero]

hey so i was trying to explain to a friend how ace characters/narratives written by non-ace people sometimes just dont hit right (even when they are well meaning) and i so badly wanted to resort to just recc’ing your fox & leia stories to them. i guess this is my way of saying thanks again for writing toocb and the holiday special. they’re such a delicious & funky duo of works too, almost like a greek tragedy + satyr play or a fixit for a problem you created.

FIXIT FOR PROBLEM I CREATED. YEAH THAT'S IT. THAT'S IT YEAH. Literally had to deal with how sad the canon events of toocb were while writing by imagining a less depressing version ljaskdf. And tragedy & satyr play is a very cool way to put it!

In Star Wars, love is the most powerful thing. It's the most destructive force in the galaxy and it's the only thing that could save it. The Force and love are strongly linked, and love has caused the worst atrocities and greatest triumphs. If love is in a Star Wars story, it needs to be this explosively insane thing. Like, it has to go hard and people have to be fucking insane about it. Nobody can be normal about love in Star Wars. In a lot of ways, Star Wars is a story about love.

Romantic love is never qualified in that! Anakin & Padme's romantic love and Anakin & Obi-Wan's platonic love were equally cataclysmic to the galaxy. Han & Leia's romantic love showed how wartime and conflict can't extinguish the care two people can have for each other, and Luke & Anakin's love for each other restored hope to the galaxy. Jyn & Cassian, Baze & Chirrut - their bonds and loyalty to each other destroyed the Death Star and allowed them to die together instead of alone. As a kid I fucking loved how Luke didn't end up with anybody at the end, and how his happy ending was saving somebody's soul and relieving them of their suffering, and how a girl really didn't need to fit into that. Which is why DinLuke be dull as hell and JangObi I am looking at you too.

That was where I wanted Fox & Leia to fit. It was a love story. They loved each other. Briefly, purposelessly, uselessly. It didn't change the galaxy or change anybody's fate. The only thing it did was save somebody's soul and relieve them of their suffering. Meaningless! And the most important thing that ever happened in Star Wars.

Of course the Holiday Special is a lot more jokey and sitcom about it, but it gave me a lot more room to actually depict the relationship as it deserved to exist and how something so simple and uncomplicated is made complicated by their hierarchical and rigid society. And I think that's where it actually went into the more ace themes of your private relationship being relentlessly scrutinized & interpreted by people who can't really get it and who are missing the point. By necessity it was something private to them, but I think that's where they both liked it.

Honestly, I didn't even write it to be specifically ace. Like Fox and Leia did, I just decided on 'love' and stopped there. I don't know what they'd call their relationship in the Holiday Special and I think they'd both shrug about it.

I write a lot of stories with ace themes for a lot of reasons, but I think part of it is really just the fact that the topic encompasses every way we relate to each other and understand love. It opens up the structure and method of telling these stories, and allows us to talk about love in a different way. Once we kinda stop and go 'wait there's no rules actually' then I think we can start doing some really interesting stuff. It's really rewarding. I recommend it.

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan 

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments. 

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son. 

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head. 

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals. 

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal 

at first you froze in shock, and  megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High 

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe. 

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around. 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[fairestwriting]

Hello Faire-san, can you please do a headcannon of GN! Yuu telling the other NRC staff that they’re more reliable and trustworthy adults than Crowley, even praising them while saying Crowley is not. Yuu’s only doing this just to troll Crowley. Please also add Crowley listening to their conversation and it’s up to you what’s his reaction be like. Thank you and stay safe.

stay safe you too! first staff post of the blog here we go. they dont have much of a personality ingame so this is more speculative than usual

Mozus Trein

Is genuinely better at working in school staff than Crowley.

He's always been teaching at NRC since forever, so when you come to him after class to deliver a late assignment, apologizing and explaining that the chores Crowley gave you kept you from finishing them in time, he immediately holds back the scolding.

"I'll have to deduct points from your grade, but I'll accept this." He says. Just as you sigh in relief he accepted your assignment, you notice Crowley peeking at the door.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Trein, I don't know what I would have done if you didn't accept it!" You make sure to keep your voice clear. "Ah, just between me and you, you're so much more responsible and understanding than Crowley, I'm glad to have such a reliable adult in this school."

Flattery doesn't really faze Trein, but he's happy you've found him trustworthy. "Of course." He just says, moving to pet his cat who rested on the table.

Outside, Crowley has his two bird (?) eyes so wide. Did he just lose to Trein? He's genuinely offended. He's reliable too, not to mention, a kind person, thank you very much.

"Ahem," He'll call for your attention as you leave the classroom, pretending not to see him. "Prefect! I noticed I accidentally gave you too many duties, so I decided to assign them to someone else, for I am gracious." He preens. "And very reliable too, right?"

(He just dumps everything on another random student. Crowley will never let his students like Trein more than him. That'd ruin his ego.)

Divus Crewel

Potions class was tough, and Crewel is tougher, his perfectionism hitting his students like bullets -- But he actually does mean well.

He's only strict because he wants you to achieve great things. And he's willing to help his students anytime they're in need, which was what happened to you today.

It's office hours, Crewel is explaining a recipe to you that you just couldn't grasp. You watch attentively as he goes over different substances until the lecture is over, and you're finally able to visualize how it all works in your head.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Crewel, I think I finally get it." You say, and he smiles slightly. "I'm so sorry for taking up so much of your time."

"It's no issue. I'm doing my job." He shrugs, placing papers on the desk, and just as he does it, you catch a glimpse of Crowley outside. You remember the documents he'd been making you deliver lately, and decide it's time for retribution.

"I'm really glad to have someone like you in this school. I really admire you, y'know, you really know how to get us to expand our limits! And you're here to help us with it too, it's good to have such a trustworthy teacher. It feels so unlikely I'd have one when the headmaster is like that..." You say, glancing towards the door.

Crewel values responsibility so he agrees with you on Crowley lol. He laughs quietly, a bit amused. "Surely. I won't badmouth my employer, but, well, I'm glad I'm here to fill this role."

Outside, Crowley is in shambles -- But it's Crewel. He can't do anything about Crewel specifically, he's probably the most qualified teacher in this damn place. He just leaves, dejected. He can't win against that guy.

Is convinced you just have a crush on Crewel or something. He's the teacher that gets the most admirers. Pesters you about it later like a concerned, but very awkward and irresponsible father.

Ashton Vargas

I’m sorry I literally cannot imagine anybody saying Vargas is trustworthy whether they wanna piss Crowley off or not. This guy is insane.

Sam

Now that's another staff member that's actually more responsible than Crowley.

He's more on the fun side than your teachers, but he's still an actual adult. When Crowley tells you to take boxes to the school store, he's quick to come help you carry them.

“Don’t worry about it, Little Demon, I’ll help you.” He says with a smile. Honestly, what a pleasant guy. Carrying boxes from the hallway to the shop ends up being just a little less awful than you thought it’d be.

“Aah, thank you so much.” You sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead when you’re finally done. Your arms hurt, you’re mentally cursing Crowley. “You really saved me here, I don’t think I could have carried all of that by myself...! It’s so good to know there are dependable adults in this school, Crowley wanted me to move these around by myself...” You sigh again, this time out of irritation. “So irresponsible.”

I don’t think he’d badmouth Crowley in your presence, or anyone really, he strikes me as a cautious guy -- But he’s smiling and nodding anyway.

Meanwhile, Crowley was passing by with papers in his hands, another errand ready for you to run -- You’re the least busy dorm head, after all, surely you have a moment to spare -- and he overhears everything.

Similar to how he reacts with Trein. He doesn’t want his approval rate to be lower than the school shop owner! The papers are dropped on the nearest poor soul.

“Prefect, how is your task going?” He walks in noisily, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Oh, look, you’ve done so well! It was easy, right? I’m so gracious to give such simple tasks to my students!” He laughs out loud.

What a guy.

[tittytania]

Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt. 4

I really need a pick-me-up after 2x11, and I feel like 1x7 might be what I'm looking for, so here I am again with another HSMTMTS rewatch. I'm genuinely so excited for both of these episodes, so without further ado, let's jump right into

1x6: She stands for... lies, pressure and very inappropriate suggestions (coming here after 2x11 might have been a mistake, actually)

I honestly don't get why Nini's reaction to seeing Ricky in full Troy costume was so big — he actually looked pretty ok to me. Sure, the wig is a bit too much, but so what, it's cute.

Ahhh my boy Reddy is so adorable in that talking head... 'click!' Gosh, I love seeing him so cheerful! Guess he's embracing his role as part of the crew. As he should.

'I'm home'. Yes, Sebby, and you look so good, too! Gosh, I love this scene so much. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it.

Gina looks beautiful, though — I mean, she looks beautiful in anything, but I really like the Taylor look on her.

Ok, I fully understand everyone's frustration about this picture — it's genuinely so hard to get a good picture of someone jumping up in the air, and I can only imagine what it would be like with six people. A bunch of my classmates tried to do something like that ages ago and, needless to say, it didn't go very well. No good pictures were taken that day.

Ah, Portwell: the early days. Ok, but wanting something and feeling like you have to get it is far from the same thing, EJ. Honestly, these two in their early days as accomplices... this is not the first time they've been like 'X is the same thing as Y' when it's obviously not. I mean, of course, that time they became accomplices because 'we want the same thing' — which, at that point, they didn't.

Ok, but they were in such unison with that 'Not now!'... couple goals! You know, even before either of them had considered the possibility of them being a couple for real.

That's a lot of pressure that Miss Jenn is putting on dear Carlito over there. I mean, he's one of the youngest at the drama club and he has to essentially do her job for her, all while she's not even sure if she'll be able to return to her job. I just... keep reminding myself that these kids are closer in age to my little brother than they are to me (except for EJ, who is precisely in the middle), and then the pressure they're under takes on completely new proportions in my mind. None of them should have to deal with all of this. And no amount of 'trust the process' is making it better.

'Should I just live vicariously through someone else?' Oh Reddy, you should just live for yourself. I mean, the truth is I don't practice what I preach most of the time, but I really do mean this. Just go out there and live your best life. You're not Ricky's therapy dog or anything (that being said, Ricky's getting a therapy dog when?).

What part of 'a forest of boys' does Nini not get? It's simple enough. Just help Carlos do his job, how about that? I mean, he shouldn't have to do everything himself anyway.

See? He cracked. That's what happens when you put all this responsibility on a teen's shoulders and be like 'deal with it'. He was just trying his best, you guys. He did not deserve all the clapback.

Ricky's forced optimism about Miss Jenn and the show is too much even for me. Sure, I know everything turns out mostly alright at the end, but this just sounds like Ricky's on the verge of a breakdown. You know, every time someone's been too unrealistically positive on this show, it has ended in a breakdown. And that's the last thing I want.

I do agree about the simple acoustic version of the song, though. Sometimes simple is the best option.

Major props to Carlos for going up to Mr. Mazzara like that. If someone had bullied me, and especially if that someone was a teacher, I'd never have dared to call them 'Benjamin Mazarra!' to their face. Even when he's on the verge of despair, this boy is still the boldest. And we love him for that.

Is this where the 'Carlos Surname' joke started, though? I had forgotten. It was funny while it lasted.

Ricky doesn't know it yet, but he's seriously playing with Gina's feelings there. And I don't blame him because, again, he doesn't know yet, but I still feel bad for her.

'Despite the 4.3 GPA, I'm actually an idiot.' — EJ is high intelligence, low wisdom, confirmed. Not that this is news, but I really don't remember much about this season, so I'm pointing this out now.

Now forgive me if I'm not feeling for Miss Jenn after 2x11... she did some really unforgivable things there. Still, as much as I want to say a real qualified teacher would not do any of that, my personal experience suggests otherwise, quite unfortunately. Miss Jenn might not be very emotionally mature, but not having legal teaching credentials is not her biggest issue, really. It is precisely her lack of emotional maturity.

OMG, Big Red accidentally invited the entire drama club over! And that, I guess, is half of how Redlyn established themselves as the hosts of every out-of-school drama club gathering. Thanksgiving is, of course, the other half. Gosh, those two were the parents of the drama club even before they were a couple. Guess they're soulmates in that way, too.

Ok, so I didn't comment on this after 2x8 when Big Red did it to Ricky, but now that I finally notice that Seb did it to Carlos, too (I took my time, thanks), I need to talk about the knee touch thing. See, this is exactly the amount of touch I used to be comfortable with (since I'm very touch-averse) — both on the giving and on the receiving end — and it can mean so much when you feel bad. It's a subtle 'hey, I'm here, it's going to be fine', a sort of hug-without-the-hugging... I feel like this is a gesture we don't see enough of in media and it can feel just as intimate as, say, holding hands or cuddling. I don't want to talk about kissing because I don't know anything about it. But I just love how we've got the knee touch depicted by both a romantic pairing and a platonic pairing in the show. Ok, rant over. But I just really wanted to talk about this because, well, I saw myself in it.

'Her past is a little bit sketchy'... I see, Ash has already started writing Truth, Justice and Songs in Our Key, even if she doesn't know it quite yet.

Miss Jenn finding out Mike is Ricky's dad is just as awkward as it should be. Whatever they had going on should have ended right then and there.

'... people in the dramatic arts are insane' — 'Thank you.' — Umm, Miss Jenn, you are not really helping your case there. Quite frankly, you're lucky you've got the allegiance of the entire drama club. I don't think they'd have your back as much after 2x11, though.

Ok, but... Big Red wearing a longcoat just to take it off for the dramatic flair of it all? An icon if I've ever seen one. Also, mad props to Larry for apparently learning this number in record time after Dara got injured.

Oh, and... mad props to all the kids in-universe for writing, rehearsing, and learning this entire number in one night.

So both Seb and Natalie have solo lines in the song... and Seb was promoted to main in s2. So does this mean Natalie will get the same treatment in s3? I mean, that will probably mean they'll try to stick her in some sort of romantic plot, and I really don't need that, but I really, really want her to be a main character.

Also, let's not forget we had our first Redlyn moment in this number... seeing them dance together makes my heart jump with joy!

I won't lie, though, the entire dance number and everything was just a little bit uncomfortable to watch after 2x11... these kids do so much for Miss Jenn, and what does she do? Put insane amounts of pressure on some of them, shuts others down at every attempt to put in a word, favours yet others despite their abysmal performance at the audition, and then has the audacity to tell that same person to jump off of something high, with all the implications attached? Not that I'm naming any names, of course. Ok, this has taken a sudden and uncalled for turn for the dark, so I guess I'll just move right along to the next episode now.

1x7: A world where 'That was terrible!' and 'I'm so happy!' can both be true at the same time

My girl Ash is doing the recap! And she's a pun queen, too. 'Miss Jenn was in hot water, Carlos was a hot mess...' — not pleasant, but so true. But wbk. Ashlyn is the best.

And... Ricky and Nini's on and off chemistry is back on. Good for them, because after season 2, I really needed to see a good rehearsal. But I'm thinking EJ's joy at the end-of-school bell had little to do with Thanksgiving...

That look Reddy gave Ashlyn as she was walking out... might be me digging for breadcrumbs, but I think I just saw the exact moment my boy fell, and he fell hard. Ok, I realise now after I've said this that 'fall' probably isn't the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Fell for Ashlyn. Not like... oh, never mind.

'So meek, so mild, sword!' I can't really explain it, but I love this line. And I feel like it describes Ash so perfectly: like, she might be meek and mild, but if you cross her, she's armed. Gosh, I love her!

Not the Caswell parents leaving their children alone over two holiday breaks! No wonder these two are the way they are. But they're about to get a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration. [Fun personal fact: the year I was born, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving day. That doesn't mean much in Bulgaria, but my dad works with a lot of Americans so my parents knew about it and I've known this and that about this holiday I've never celebrated since I was very young. I have no idea why I'm telling you this, but Thanksgiving has always reminded me of my birthday for this reason, so... ok, moving on.]

So I know she kind of suggested it, but... why does Carlos think it's his place to invite people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, this was part 2 of Redlyn establishing themselves as the hosts for any out-of-school gathering, but... oh well, it led to a beautiful party with everyone, so... I'll allow it.

I really liked Nini's talk with her grandma. It was really nice, and a very fitting way to remind everyone what Thanksgiving is originally about. I feel like people often forget that when it comes to... literally every major commercialised holiday.

Wow, EJ really is that person where once the tap is open, it can't stop spilling. And I kind of like that look on him. It's a transitional stage between EJ 1.0 and EJ 2.0, and I appreciate it for what it is.

Ahhhh it's Redlyn's first proper 1-on-1 conversation! I mean, it got kind of really awkward really quickly because of — surprise, surprise — Nini and Ricky (and EJ), but those two are so adorable! No more breadcrumbs — we're about to get an entire five-course meal here! Which goes really well with the Thanksgiving setting, now that I think of it.

Gosh, they've never really talked and my boy whips out the 'the only thing I'd ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight' line right off the bat? Boy is whipped! But like, he is the master of grand gestures where Ashlyn is concerned. Still, in this first moment they shared, he really was like, go big or go home, and home isn't really an option here. But I should have known, it's in his name after all. Gosh, I love both of those two so much! Especially when they're together.

Ok, so... this is a really bad way to meet your mother's new boyfriend. Poor Ricky. As if ringing his mum wasn't hard enough already.

See, when I rewatch season 1, I get where the Rina stans are coming from, but then again, remember when I used to say I wanted Gina and EJ to just be friends? Yeah, that's changed too. Not that I ever shipped Rina romantically — I rarely ever ship a pairing unless they're explicitly stated to have something going on, just because I can't see that sort of stuff very clearly — but I really, really want them (Ricky and Gina, I mean) to be really good friends. Once they get past the awkwardness of their sort of history, I mean.

I miss the good old days when Nini was a nice person... I mean, we kind of (really) had a glimpse of that in 2x11 (I'm guessing she was making up for Miss Jenn's very inappropriate slip-up), but I miss the days before she was this big internet-famous songwriter and actually had to be convinced by Ashlyn that she should write songs for herself... wait, now that I think of it... Ashlyn might have helped create a monster there. Oh well. Still love her so much!

You know, I love the Choosical, but it's all a bit sad, if you stop to think about it for a sec. Just picture little single-digit-aged Carlito making this whole thing up in an attempt to participate in his favourite thing... only to not have anyone to play with for the next ten years. Great, I just made myself cry. The thing is, I relate to that story a bit too much. I remember in preschool, when the rest of the children would play together, I'd sit in a corner by myself and read the only book that was there... over and over, day after day. I don't even remember a single thing about that little book right now, but back then I clung to it like it was everything. And I couldn't very much share the experience with any of my peers, seeing as I was the only kid there who could actually read (my grandma used to be a preschool teacher and she taught me to read when I was 4). So yeah. I went off on a rather personal tangent there. Thing is, I know how little Carlos felt and I'm so happy that he finally gets to share this thing he made with a loving and supportive group of friends. Everything has its time and place, I guess.

'Look, I'm not following Big Red just because he paid me a compliment' — of course not, dear, you know your own worth and we love that for you — but see, when he said that thing that you're referring to as a compliment, he did not lie! You really are the brightest star and deserve the brightest spotlight. See, the thing I love most about Redlyn's compliments to each other is that they're so sincere and state nothing but the absolute truth. Those two just see each other for what they are, and love each other as they are. And I think that is beautiful.

It's so funny to me every time someone gets something wrong and Carlos just walks past them out of nowhere and corrects them without missing a beat. I kind of relate to that side of him, too. Except it's usually about grammar and language in my case, not HSM trivia.

If I were Nini in this scene, and was suddenly put face to face with Emily on the spot like that, I would not have been able to handle it. So props to Nini for handling it.

Yeah, sorry to break it to you, Emily dear, but whatever you're doing is not a Cockney accent. I don't claim to be an accent expert, but I know first-hand what Cockney sounds like and... that's just not it. Even Dick Van Dyke was closer to a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins, and that's saying something. (See, I feel bad criticising any aspect of Emily because her actress is no longer with us, but... I have no idea who let them get away with passing this off as Cockney).

Is this the beginning of Jennzara there? I am loving this.

Of course Carlos was obsessed with Glee as a kid... but wasn't he a bit too young for it when it aired? I know I was, and I'm older than those kids. I mean, I waited until I was emotionally mature enough to watch Glee, and that wasn't until 3 years ago, when I was 18 going on 19. Ok, I'm thinking too much into this. Moving on.

Ahhhhh, Redlyn! Just... all of their moments. But screaming the lyrics of What I've Been Looking For on top of their lungs while looking right at each other... was so beautiful to watch. Give me more of that!

EJ: 'That was terrible.' Seb: 'I'm so happy!' — Moods, both of them. Those two are real-life emojis, aren't they? And we love them for that.

'... without laughing... or killing each other.' — I feel like that last specification was needed given that it's Ricky and EJ we're talking about, and especially what happened last time they had to do a one-on-one exercise during rehearsal. The ensuing scene, however, is the most hilarious thing!

Root beer, huh? Is that the HSMTMTS code for 'awkward' now? I mean, Nini and Gina had a nice talk there, all things considered. I really want the two of them to put the Ricky thing past them and be friends... but we'll see.

Gina is trying to make the sleepover thing look like 'it's not a big deal' despite how big of a deal it obviously is to her... to which I say, good for you, girl, but I wouldn't know. The only sleepovers I've ever had have been with my little cousin who is 9 years younger than me and also insists on sleeping with a very bright nightlight on, which means I can't sleep at all. So yeah, I wouldn't know. But I'm happy that Gina is feeling included.

So this is the exact moment when it becomes clear that Big Red is not telling us the complete truth when it comes to his HSM knowledge... '14 and 10'? Even I didn't know that. I knew 14, but... for someone who allegedly 'hates musicals', my boy has very detailed knowledge of one certain musical movie... I love how it got him a certain girl's attention, though. Not that she wasn't already paying attention to him, if you catch my drift.

Ok, but this hits even harder now than it did the first time — just when Gina has finally managed to make friends, to feel included in their group, her mum has to move her away again. This is straight-up tragic. I'll say it now, and I'll probably say it again when it comes up in the rewatch — Ashlyn is an absolute queen for taking Gina in for the next semester.

'That's sort of what you always do, huh? Take care of everyone else' — yeah, Ash, and you do the same. You two just need someone to do for you what you do for other people. See, guys, this is what I mean. This is why they're soulmates. Because in a world that has more or less forced both of them to put others first, they put each other first. They each get to be the most important person to each other after they've been stepping back for others all the time. And if that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is. I know I'm repeating myself over and over saying this, but... they own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale.

Ok, but Ashlyn's little run after Big Red left was so cute! Girl is... I don't know why I keep using that word, but... falling.

Unpopular opinion: Out of the Old is the best Nini solo to come out of this series to date. Maybe I feel that way just because I relate to it most, but hey, that is a valid reason to like something.

Oof, EJ's losing followers. Oh well, if they're unfollowing him for being too honest, they didn't like the real him to begin with. So good riddance to them.

Yikes... Jennzara fell asleep with flammable stuff left unattended... we all know how that ended, but just the fact that they felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in each other's presence... speaks volumes. So I guess... well, I don't know what exactly I'm saying regarding the fire they caused, but I loved this big little moment they had.

So this is it. That was 1x6 and 7 and, well, they were beautiful, but there are some parts I can't look at in the same way anymore after 2x11. Guess that's the risk of a rewatch. The Redlyn scenes, though — still the best part of both of these episodes. That and a couple of other things for which I don't need to pretend like I haven't seen season 2.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

I just had an idea for if Supergirl (the person, not the show) ever really got fed up with mass shootings and decided to take a stand, she might just... become a teacher. She goes through all the appropriate channels, earns all the right certifications, and then enters the ranks of substitute teachers, in multpile counties/districts across the nation. She rocks up her first day in a business suit of red and blue, her family crest still on proud display, and gets to work. Yes, it's part publicity stunt, obviously, but she's good, and the kids are always enriched with knowledge and enthusiasm for learning by the time the real teacher comes back. People thinks it's cute-- right up until they realize that it's ALL she's doing. National City's fire and police departments are left to fend for themselves, and suddenly people realize just how much she's done for them, and when traffic is awful for the third week in a row because Supergirl isn't around to clear the debris overnight, the pundits start yapping.

She's focusing on the wrong crisis, she has no jurisdiction, she's caving to the liberal left, she has no grounds to levy judgement against the 2nd Amendment, etc. "Citizens have expected you at other crises," a reporter asks Supergirl one day as she leaves the school at the end of the day. "How would you respond to criticism that your extraordinary abilities are more needed elsewhere?" "I would tell them that they're wrong," Supergirl replies calmly. "Mass gun violence in schools is the greatest threat to the nation is currently facing, and any measure I can take to help protect the youth of today is my only focus." "But whatever class you teach is only one class out of millions. One class on one day--" "Those vocal against gun control have suggested that the teachers be the line of defense. I am currently the only teacher in the entire world qualified to be so-- since I'm bulletproof and all. It may still be only a drop in the bucket, but short of flying every citizen to the polls to vote pro-gun control, a drop is all that is within my power to do. And it is a drop desperately needed." And so it goes. The students love her, and she continues to pick up certs in more and more areas, increasing her coverage, and even Superman follows suit, though he sticks close to Metropolis. Some states amend their gun laws immediately-- others are more reluctant to change. Supergirl's tactic gains momentum, and more and more heroes follow suit. As more cities are left vulnerable, more attention is given to the debate, which is rapidly becoming less and less of a debate and more of a plea as consituencies beg their state and national congresspeople to vote for reform-- in the end, it's the gun lobby that keeps the movers and shakers from capitulating. It's maybe a year before a gunman enters a school Supergirl is serving at. It's her first day, and a new district, and she hasn't even met all the teachers yet. Her class isn't even the first one hit-- it doesn't matter. She hears the unmistakable click-clack of a round entering the chamber of an AK-47, and Supergirl speeds out of the room towards the sound. She doesn't stop until she's planted herself directly in front of the shooter-- a young teenage boy with pimples a vibrant red against pale, clammy skin. Her fingers are already tucking into the hidden loops of fabric inside the back of her blazer, and just as the boy's finger squeezes against the trigger, she pulls down and out, unfurling a cape far larger than her own, but no less infrangible. She closes her hands around the boys wrists and hugs herself tight against the muzzle of the rifle, engulfing herself and the weapon in a cloud of bulletproof fabric. Stunned, the boy empties the clip, then stands frozen when the chamber finally clicks empty. Supergirl knows he has more magazines, and a handgun tucked into the back of his jeans-- he came prepared, and the thought chills Supergirl to the core.

But he doesn't reach for them. Under her hands, his hands stop trembling, and his face gains more color with every moment that passes. "Drop it," she orders, with the same authority she commands bank robbers to surrender. She hopes that this boy will be like the less experienced robbers, already uneasy and quick to capitulate. He isn't. His features flush with sudden rage, and he tries without success to tug his hands free. "Fuck you," he snarls, "you alien bitch. I don't have to do any-- augh!" The bones of his hands crackle under Supergirl's grip, and the gun clatters to the floor. To her further unsettlement, the boy starts to laugh, the sound harsh in the utter silence of the school around them. "I wonder how the bleeding hearts will feel knowing their precious hero brutalized a student. And a mentally unstable one too..." "Your mental faculties seem plenty stable to me." "That's not what my lawyer is going to say." He grins at her, like he already knows what his Wendy's order will be once the police arrive. "It doesn't matter what you do, Superfreak. This country was built on sweat and blood of gunowners. We will always have a right to own guns, and we will always have the right to use them." Well... Supergirl doesn't have any effect on gun law, true. But the video footage of her exchange with the would-be gunman does. Filmed on multiple phones, and corroborated by multiple school employees, not only does it eviscerate the boy's attempt to plead insanity, it also serves as the last straw for a public already on edge. The country shuts down, with thousands marching on private homes and public workplaces both. Politicians and PAC leaders alike feel the wrath of the American public, until an emergency session is held by the US Congress to ratify sweeping gun control reforms. When Supergirl is interviewed, she keeps it simple. "My only regret is that it took so many years and so many lives to get us to this point. But we're here, and it's definitely a relief." She also gives a shout out to L-Corp, who helped design and manufacture her emergency cape. As expected, she does go back to superheroing. It's good to be home again, doing what sometimes feels simpler than navigating the youthful choas of a crowded school. But when she's contacted for an emergency sub position-- Supergirl rarely says no.

[shes-an-oddbird]

Sunflowers, Snapdragons, Roses and Daisies

Dousy Week Day 2 - Prompt : AU - A Flower Shop and Fake Dating AU in one

Actually a little Multichapter AU fic I’ve been working on for awhile. Enjoy :)

Summary: While covering a shift at Jemma’s flowers shop, Daisy must help a customer with an unusual request. When they discover flowers may not be the right thing to solve Daniel’s problem, they work out a new solution.

AO3

The custom of bringing flowers to a date, while once a staple, has become an outdated practice and is regarded as an old-fashion tradition, now considered unnecessary outside of special occasions. To avoid social faux pas these occasions should be limited to anniversaries, holidays and birthdays; never first dates where the gesture may come off as creepy or overstepping.

Seriously, Daisy thought. Of all the creepy things men do, bringing flowers to their date hardly qualified. Why did Jemma even have her reading this book? That was that kind of mentality that was going to put her little flower shop out of business.

“Excuse me miss, I could use some help, when you have a chance.”

Daisy nearly falls off her stool. She looks up to see a handsome man standing on the other side of the counter looking around uncertainly. How long had he been standing there? She hadn’t even heard the door open. She wants to swear, mostly because she’s already messed up but also because she really doesn’t want to help anyone. Despite what her name might imply, she knows next to nothing about flowers. She was only supposed to cover the desk and phones while Bobbi was out today.

She falters, trying to assess the situation quickly. She could do this, it was just flowers. She looks the customer over, thinks again that he’s a good-looking guy, wearing a nice, if a little stuffy, suit. He probably just needs flowers for his wife or girlfriend. She glances at his hand. Girlfriend then.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I was just caught up in my book.” She closes the book, giving the impression of her full attention. “What’s the occasion, anniversary?” She hopes it is. You give roses on an anniversary, even she knew that. It’s funny, she thinks in the back of her mind, at another time, when she wasn’t trying to save Jemma’s shop from a horrible review, she might realize it was odd to wish for the good-looking guy with the polite smile to be taken but Bobbi has already warned her about that. All the decent guys who come in are already spoken for.

“I’m afraid it’s not quite so simple.” He answers sheepishly.

“Ok, well, let’s hear it, I’m sure we can find the right thing.” Her fingers curl around the edge of the book. Where was Jemma? She was supposed to be back from the greenhouse by now.

He seems to consider his answer carefully before replying. “It’s more of a congratulations.”

“That’s not so bad,” she flips the book back open, prepared to check the index. “What are we celebrating?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s probably not in your book.”

Daisy shakes her head. “This book comes with the Dr. Jemma Simmons stamp of approval, if it can be said with flowers, it’s in this book.” Or so she’s been told.

“My ex-girlfriend is getting married.”

Oh.

“That’s – well that’s, kind of passive aggressive, but some of these flowers do have pretty cruel meanings, I’m sure we can get the point across.” It makes him laugh which is great because that’s what she’d been going for. He was right, that wasn’t an easy one and she didn’t have a clue where to start. “OH! We have some great discount bouquets!”

“No, no, um, I’m happy for her, for them, really.” His shoulders are still shaking from laughing and she notices his eyes crinkle a bit at the corners, but after a moment of quiet he does let out a heavy sigh. He still needed something.

She gives him back a sympathetic smile. “My friend, she’s the owner, she should be back soon, if anyone can figure it out, she can.”

“No more faith in your book?”

“Umm.” Daisy flips the book to the list of flowers and their meanings. It was an insane amount of information, most of which was irrelevant according to Jemma. Customers who didn’t have much to spend asked for something pretty and simple. Customers with money to spare asked for something different. Nine times out of ten they didn’t care what the flowers meant, they either wanted a deal or to make a statement. She assumed in this guy’s case it was less about saying the right thing and more about not saying the wrong thing. He certainly couldn’t send roses to his ex to congratulate her on her wedding. But maybe some flowers with no romantic connotations. She could probably manage that. “You know what, I think we can put something together.”

He smiles back at her gratefully and follows her to the worktable set up in the middle of shop. Strewn across the table are rolls of red and blue ribbon from where she and Jemma had been finishing up some wedding flowers earlier that morning. She pushes it all aside into a messy pile and can hear her friend’s scolding tone about a neat workspace being a happy workspace.

“Does she have a favorite flower?” Daisy asks as lays out some paper the same way she has seen Jemma do.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, no problem.” Daisy looks around the shop. “Okay, what about – yellow!”

“I’m sorry?” He asks, not understanding her outburst.

“Yellow flowers, there are usually no romantic undertones associated with them.” She recalls as she grabs bins of yellow sunflowers, carnations, and daffodils, deposits them on the table and goes back around for the daisies, roses, and tulips. Eventually the table is full and Daisy returns her attention to the book.

By this point the customer has taken a seat at one of the stools by the worktable. He’s watched her shuffle around the store with amusement written across his face and now as she settles down to sort out his request he finally speaks again.

“Have you ever done this before?”

She looks up.

“Even once?”

“No.” She answers truthfully. She’s been caught, no point in lying about it. “But I’ve watched Jemma do this a million times, it’s not that hard.”

She expects him to stand and leave. Find a flower shop with a competent salesperson and a shelf dedicated to flowers for awkward occasions. Instead he remains seated. “Alright, where do we start?” With a surge of confidence, she continues.

She looks at the flowers. “Which do you like?”

 “Damn.”

“Still no good.”

“Disappointment and rejection, probably not going to work.” Daisy sets aside the yellow carnations. “I thought for sure, I mean we sell a ton of these.” So far, they have had to discard the marigolds, the roses, the chrysanthemums and nearly everything else she’s familiar with. The sole survivors are the daisies, the tulips and the sunflowers, and even those were on the fence.

They’d been at this for nearly an hour now. Daniel, he had eventually introduced himself, had made himself comfortable, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. He was happy to fetch and return whatever she requested. Daisy, twice, had to stop to help other customers and each time he apologized for taking up too much of her time and insisted he could come back later.

She refused. They would figure it out even if it took all day.

“Who even decides these things,” Daisy groans as she rearranges the flowers in front of her. “Dark thoughts, false riches, who looks at bright yellow flowers and thinks that?”

“Sounds like someone with a broken heart.” Daniel replies.

“Maybe.” It was the best explanation she could think of. She scoops up the flowers and drops them into a vase so she can see them standing up. They flop lifelessly. She grabs up some of the filler greens to support them, but it still looks a mess. “This would be so much easier if you just hated your ex like a normal person.”

“She’s not the problem, if I could just go to the wedding I wouldn’t need the flowers at all, I could just bring a toaster oven or a blender or booze, like they registered for.”

Daisy sighs and shoves the vase away. “Why can’t you go to the wedding?” He must have been invited it he has the gift registry.

“I can, I want to,” he pauses, “you don’t think it’s weird, to go to your ex’s wedding.”

She shrugs. “Not if you were invited and as long as your happy for them, and you know, you’re not still in love her with her or anything like that.” Now she takes a moment to pause. “You’re not still in love with her, are you?”

Daniel’s expression turns soft and his tone is nothing but genuine when he answers. “No, I care about her, truly, she’s one of my closest friends, but I am happy for them.”

“So go, I see no reason why not.” She encourages. “Please go, because this is a disaster.” She gestures to the flowers.

“I don’t know, its growing on me.” He pulls the vase towards him and adjusts some of the flowers. Daisy immediately realizes he’s avoiding the ‘why not’ and while its not her place to pry, she’s curious now.

“What is the real reason you don’t want to go?”

“It’s that obvious?” She nods. “It’s really not them, it’s everyone else who will be there, we all work together and they know that when things ended between me and her it was really more on her and I was the one left with a broken heart, if I go, I just know I’m going to get that look, that poor pitiful Daniel look, all night long and I already get that enough of that as it is.”

“Why is that?”

“Hmm, oh.” Daniel stops fussing with the flowers. He turns on the stool and tugs up his pant leg to reveal a metal prosthetic.

“Oh well that will do it.” Her surprise gets the better of her and she doesn’t realize till after the words are out how they may have sounded. “Sorry, that was rude.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, it’s okay, I rather people didn’t make a big deal of it.”

She understands. Not what it was like to have a prosthetic leg of course but to have attention for something connected with less than pleasant memories.

The bell above the door jingles, pulling Daisy out of her thoughts. She looks up to greet the customer and instead see Jemma entering the store, a slight squishing sound following her as she trudges to the counter and dumps her bag and keys across it.

“You will not believe – “

“It rained?” Daisy interrupts.

“No, it did not rain,” Jemma runs her fingers through her damp hair trying to make it presentable. “The sprinkler system in the greenhouse went berserk, drenched my phone so I couldn’t call out, I had to run to get Fitz and drag him back there to fix it, I’ll be lucky if everything isn’t ruined.”

“That’s sounds terrible.” Daniel’s sympathetic reply catches Jemma off guard. She spins around with a look of horror on her face that fades just a bit when she sees them.

“Oh! I didn’t realize, Daniel Sousa – ” She surges forward, hand outstretched and a wide grin on her face. Daniel jumps up from his seat to meet her halfway and shake her hand in hello.

Daisy looks back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

“Daniel is a regular customer.”

“Flower shops have regulars?”

Jemma rolls her eyes. “It’s so lovely to see you again, its been a bit since you’ve been in – “ She trails off, her eyes going wide as she spots her pristine workspace in perfect disarray. Daisy stands and attempts to position herself in front of the table to hide the mess. “What brings you in today?” She asks distractedly.

“It’s a long story.” Daisy is forced to move aside as Jemma steps forward to examine the bouquet Daisy had only moments ago deemed a disaster.

“Oh, I think I’d like to hear it if it somehow ends with this.”

“It’s my fault really, I wanted to send flowers to Peggy and her fiancé, as a sort of apology for not attending their wedding, Daisy was trying to help me put together something that would properly express that without sending the wrong message.”

“I see.” Jemma collects the last bins of flowers and returns them to their homes.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Daisy whispers to him.

“I feel like I just got you in trouble with the principal.”

Jemma returns to the table and inspects the bouquet again. “Well I can see where you were coming from here Daisy, but I told you, most people don’t read much into the meanings behind the flowers.”

“You’re the one that gave me the book!”

“Yes, and in that book, it also tells you that it’s not customary to send flowers for a wedding.” Daisy frowned. She hadn’t gotten to that part. “That said, I’m afraid flowers aren’t going to solve your problem Daniel.”

“That’s okay, it’s probably a sign that I just need to suck it up and go, let everyone whisper over their cake about poor single heartbroken Daniel a little bit longer.”

“That does sound truly awful.” Jemma says gently.

It does, but in that moment Daisy is struck by an idea. “Hey wait, why don’t you just bring a date?”

Daniel looks sheepishly at the ground. “I, I haven’t got anyone to bring.”

“Perhaps you could go out and meet someone new.” Jemma suggests.

“I don’t usually connect with people that fast and the wedding is this weekend.”

“Well it’s not like she has to be the love of your life or anything.”

“Daisy makes a very good point, you could always invite a friend.” Jemma suggests but Daisy already knows that won’t work either, a friend won’t eliminate the look of pity from his colleagues faces. She has only known Daniel for an hour but she’s already on his side. She wants him to have it all, to attend the wedding for his friends and to give a proper screw you to his coworkers. “What you need is a fake date, someone who you can pretend to be invested in just enough that they know you’re over your ex but not enough that the next time they see you they think to ask about her.”

“OH! You should take Daisy!” Jemma looks absolutely giddy, as if her sudden exclamation is a stroke of genius and hasn’t caught her best friend completely off guard.

“Wait what?”

“Well why not, she’d be the perfect fake date, no one will know her, you two clearly don’t mind spending a bit of time together, unless you made this mess all in five minutes,” she gestures again at her worktable. “And I promise under this apron she’s a total babe, no one would look at you and feel sorry for you, I promise.”

Daisy does notice that she is not the only one embarrassed by this proposition; Daniel looks flustered and unsure how to handle having a date just tossed at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“She wouldn’t mind, she really needs to get out more anyways.” Daisy slaps Jemma’s arm.

“I get out.”

Daniel shifts uncertainly. “Still, this wedding is kind of a high profile event.”

“She cleans up really well.”

Daniel’s eyes go wide. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant,” He looks frantically back and forth between them, “I’m sure you do, it’s just there is going to be a lot of people there and possibly media.” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe how ridiculous the notion is and again Daisy finds herself wondering who exactly this woman is. In fact, it has gotten to the point where she kind of wants to meet these people.

“Actually, it might be kind of cool.”

“What?”

Daisy considers for a moment longer before confirming her answer. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, besides I feel like I’ve got to see this through to the end now, since the flowers were kind of a bust.”

It takes him a full minute to catch up. “Um, the wedding is Saturday, if you’re free?”

She nods.

“Okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “You’re really sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be great, we can give those gossipy coworkers of your something to really talk about.”

“Alright, great.” He looks at their flower project and turns to Jemma “Can I still buy these?”

“You don’t have to – “

Daisy cuts Jemma off. “Oh my god no, this is, it’s really my problem, you can take the cost out of my pay Jemma.”

“No really, I actually kind of like it.” Daisy doesn’t believe that for a moment, but she also can’t think of any other reason why he’d want to keep the sad little bouquet.

Maybe Jemma does though? She smiles happily and scoops up the vase, “let me wrap them for you.”

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Dino Albani Card story ‘‘Mail Order Freak‘‘

Translation of Dino Albani’s 3* “Mail Order Freak” from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Dino: Ooo…

Dino: Ooooo….?

Dino: oooOOOO….!?

Keith: Oi, Dino

Dino: !!!???

Keith: TV shopping again huh….

Dino: Ah, haha… I’m just watching okay? I haven’t ordered anything yet!?

Keith: Yet?

Dino: !! No no that’s not it, pay no mind to that just now!

Dino: The other day I did as you told me to and am dedicating myself to simple living. My minds all clear now, there’s no way I’m going to clutter up again?

Keith: Hooo~?

Dino: Ahaha, haha… Was convinced you were sleeping soundly though, what’s up?

Keith: Aah. I just strangely woke up out of nowhere, thought to come get some water

Keith: Where’s a glass, glass~....

Dino: Uwah… what’s with this hanger rack… Amazing, it’s way too overpowered….

Dino: Eh!? It’s that cheap if you buy three of these together!? Woah…. what a crazy deal…. 

Keith: Hold on, what’cha going to do if you buy that? Like three of these even, do you have that many clothes!?

Dino: ….I don’t.

Keith: Geez… ya really love it don’tcha. It’s always been like that, but is it so interesting to the point of waking up in the middle of the night to watch?

Dino: It’s interesting!

Keith: How?

Dino: Right now it’s about a hanger rack but, if you buy in bulk it’ll become an insane bargain, or the fact that you can easily order it via the phone or internet...

Dino: And, you’ll discover so many useful goods that’ve you’ve never heard of before because of the passive way they’re presenting the articles!

Keith: Ooh… Thanks for the impassioned speech. Looking at you rattle off is making me believe that you’re presenting it yourself. 

Dino: Ahahah. Grandpa and grandma often told me that too

Keith: Aah, grandpa and grandma back at home huh

Dino: Yep yep. I’ve been a slave to TV shopping ever since the time I lived with them

Dino: Whenever I found an article that’d make me go all ‘That’s amazing!’, I’d be presenting it in front of them. Ahaha, how nostalgic♪

Keith: Somehow, feels like I heard ‘bout it before but also not...

Dino: Think you probably did hear it before. When we, together with Brad, went to ‘Future Land’ and stayed over at my house

Keith: Aah… I remember hearing about all kinds of things from both of ‘em. Can’t recall the contents of it though….

Dino: I’m sure that both grandpa and grandma were super happy to meet you two

Dino: I would always be talking about you two. Also, since they’re living considerably deep in the mountains, having guests come over was rare on it’s own. 

Dino: Right… That’s why I’d be TV shopping

Dino: Living in such a remote place made going shopping no easy feat. When thinking if there wasn’t a better method, I saw it on TV by chance 

Dino: I was amazed how there’s such a way of shopping, from there I slipped and got trapped into it….

Keith: Hmm? The way ya look at things changes depending on where you live huh

Dino: Grandpa and grandma were pleased with how convenient it was. I remember also getting happy when seeing them get what they wanted♪

Keith: …….Speaking of it, did you get in contact since coming back here? With your grandpa and grandma I mean

Dino: Aah yeah, I did. But it turned out that Helios went to contact them before I was able to

Dino: I haven’t seen their faces in person yet, so once things settle down I wanna go visit them~ is what I’m thinking to do though

Dino: Ah, I’ll bring something that’ll make them happy again too. Hehe, I’m looking forward to it♪

Keith: If that’s your reason, it’s alright to continue using mail order. But without resulting in buying anything useless...

Dino: !! That’s right…. that’s a great idea….

Keith: ….Huh?

Dino: Say, Keith. Isn’t there anything that you want?

Dino: Alcohol or daily necessities, something that you just thought of buying, anything like that?

Keith: You… Don’t tell me you’re seriously planning to get what I want via mail order...

Dino: Exactly♪ Like that, my room won’t be full of things, and I won’t be buying anything useless right?

Keith: No, telling me that and looking as if you just came up with a brilliant idea….

Dino: Isn’t it a brilliant idea? My insatiable craving for wanting to mail order will be satisfied and you’ll get what you want

Dino: Fufu. I’m expecting to see your face light up, just like grandpa and grandma’s♪

Keith: Ya think I’ll be all happy? That’s...

Dino: We don’t know so, let’s give it a shot!

Dino: Anything that you think you really need is fine~! Please, Keith~~!

Keith: ……...

Keith: ….I’ll give in. It’ll be troublesome if I get a taste for it, so only this time

Dino: Yippee-! Thanks, Keith♪

---Few days later.

Keith: (Aaaah, finally released f rom that pain in the ass meeting….)

Keith: (Was said that each teams Major Hero has to attend but… can’t Dino join for that too?)

Keith: (Without a doubt, he’s more qualified-)

???: ♪~

Keith: (....Mh? Humming?)

Keith: (I’m hearing it come from my room, gotta be Dino right? What’s up with him… he sounds extremely cheery)

-

Keith: Oi, Dino. What’cha-

Keith: Ugeh!?

Dino: Ah, welcome back Keith♪

Dino: The goods I ordered the other day arrived! Look, here’s the earplug and eyemask easy sleeping set!

Dino: With this you can sleep soundly….♪

Keith: Just, hold on…. What is the meaning of this?

Keith: All I asked for was the easy sleeping set…. So why the hell are there so many boxes scattered everywhere again!? 

Dino: Aah, these? I thought of something good after all, so besides you I went around to ask everyone thoroughly if there wasn’t anything that they wanted to buy

Dino: I’m going to go deliver these now, hope it’ll make everyone happy♪

Keith: You….your craving for mail ordering, just how deep does it go…...

Keith: Can’t understand it…. I can’t understand it at all…..!

 -

Notes

This is from Chapter 5 of the main story, but during the academy days Dino heard about a rumor regarding Lost Garden in an attraction park called ‘Future Land’ and wanted to go investigate it for fun. So he suggested it to Brad and Keith, and they all went together on a trip and stayed overnight at Dino’s grandparents house.

[littleshrimpcat]

                                    Alexis and the Art of Starting

Disclaimer: This piece reads like a self-help post. Do not be fooled. I am not qualified to tell anyone how to live their lives. I’m not even sure I’m qualified to tell myself how to do that. I just want you to walk with me as I untangle a thought. So, put on an insanely expensive sweater and take a walk through Schitt’s Creek with me.

 I’ve started to write this blog piece, every week for the last 2 months. I’d catch myself writing introduction after introduction in my head. Some great…some terrible. All those words wasted because I’m 32 years old, and I have no idea how to start…anything. It’s true. I start my morning with a sigh, instead of a smile. I sit up with a groan. Before I can fully form a thought, my brain auto corrects. It’s simple. I can’t start to save my life.

 And then i ran into Alexis Rose. Much has been written about her growth on the show, into a kind, smart and captivating person. When Alexis was on screen, I had eyes for no one else (except that little button Patrick). I followed her story with interest. On the face of it, Alexis and I have little in common. I have not, dated a Sultan’s nephew (yet). My first kiss was not Jared Leto. But Alexis, like most of us, had the rug yanked out from under her feet. She went from a world, which she navigated with ease:

 “Um, I’m sorry, were you picked up by the South Korean police on New Year’s? I had to sweet talk the consulate’s lawyer to get me a passport by midnight”

To a brand new life in a tiny, eccentric town called Schitt’s Creek.

I loved Alexis for her kindness, her adventures, her theme song for her reality show (linked below), and of course “ew, David”. But what always fascinated me about Alexis’ journey, was her willingness to try. An unshakeable confidence that she could work things out, even when she had no idea or experience to back that up. From high school, to college, to being a secretary at Ted’s veterinary clinic to handling PR for her mother, Alexis clicked, swayed and swished through them all.

And that got me thinking about how I handle things. How I need the fear of god put into me before I do anything. Got a deadline looming? Start typing. Got a bladder ready to burst? Start running (and unbuttoning). I don’t enjoy the beginning of anything. It’s hard to remember when I started something with enthusiasm.

To be fair, 2021 (and its terrible sibling, 2020) don’t really inspire energy or enthusiasm. In a year that essentially jammed a giant full stop in many of our lives (lost jobs, death of loved ones, quarantine) “starting right” seemed to be the least of our problems. Most days were considered a victory when I managed to make it to bed with my teeth brushed and my brain tired. I have stayed in that mode for 12 months now. What’s the point? Why try? Nothing good can come out of it.

 A few weeks back, I had another setback (a missed job opportunity). I immediately began to sink into a soup of self-pity. What was I going to do? Nothing ever works out for me. Fuck COVID-19 (no, but seriously, FUCK COVID-19). Eventually, I started to choke on the sheer bitterness of my thoughts. 

 Now, I’m not advocating for positivity and sunshine all the time. But a little bit of hope, a little bit of excitement, a little bit Alexis just feels better. I don’t think I’ll win the Pulitzer, or brush my hair every day…but it does make life a little more tolerable. I may have lost a job opportunity I really liked, but there is still a chance I’ll find something better… isn’t that exciting, too? Just the possibility of that thought, made my head spin. It felt like something new.

 Ultimately, Alexis too, doesn’t accomplish anything yet… it’s all waiting for her. Her new story starts at the end of the show. New York, a new apartment, a new job and visits from Twyla await her. Who knows what she’ll make of it? But she’s excited to try.

I, too, have no idea what I’ll accomplish with this little bubble of hope in my brain. All I know, is that for once I didn’t listen to the voice shrieking in my head saying “none of this makes sense”. All I felt was the beat of the keys as my hands moved, the thoughts streaming from my mind down to my fingertips and Alexis tapping my nose, with a little “boop”.

 A Little Bit Alexis (Click)

[witchy-lili]

What was necessary, part 1/?

So hewwooo, kinda spammed myself with Sander Sides animatic and fic AU’s so i got inspired ! The events are after POF, Roman shut himself making the others doubt their decision to accept Janus and our sassy snake boy needed a way to crawl in. If they didn’t wanna give him a place, he was gonna take it. 

Enjoy~ ---------------------------------------------- It was so crazy, it had to work. They didn’t have much more ideas or solutions did they ? Janus ran his gloved hand over his face, hissing quitely. The fire was crackling in front of him, but no warmth in this world could melt the stone cold look he had on his tired eyes. He took a deep, almost growley breath before looking at his acolyte. The Duke was sitting, legs crossed, seemingly floating in the air, but the ardent embers kinda reflected on a pitch black tentacle. He always had that same enigmatic smile. -Let’s start over, Remus, we- -Again ? Just talk to one of my zuckers and wake me up when you’re over this. I told you. This plan is absolutely perfect, unless Mister Danger Noodle isn’t qualified enough for his task~ -Don’t call me..whatever you just said. No plan is perfect, and what you’re suggesting is really risky, and actually pretty crazy. -Jany, Jany, Jany ! You just lack imagination ! It’s just a simple bait and switch. Three cards appeared in front of the snake. They flipped themselves showing three aces, heart, spades and diamonds before turning again. Janus raised an intrigued eyebrow, staring at the cursed creativity. -Don’t you think it’s not the moment for games ? -Calm your snake tits and pick one damn it ! Janus sighed loudly before putting a finger on the card in the middle. It was supposed to be the spades. He flipped it, kinda confident before being greeted by an almost mocking diamond card. His eyes went back to the satisfied Duke. -You cheated. -Nu uh Slithering Sandy, you didn’t even know what the game was ! I took your attention away and switched the cards. Bait and Switch. The snake’s eyes shimmered under the starlight. Remus seemed foolish, delusional even, this plan was so unrealistic it was impossible to not have doubts about it, but he trusted the man sitting in front of him. This whole scheme also depended on his act. He already managed to fool the other sides more than once, but now it will be for a longer period of time, he had to be perfect. -I guess it’s settled then, dear...slimy friend. Conjuring objects was always pretty easy. Effortless even. But maintaining the illusion of two different places while being shapeshifted was not as fun. Janus sighed looking at his reflection in the mirror, he looked like an almost picture perfect version of Roman. He knew which strings to pull, he had to be careful. They were dorky, not dumb. After taking a deep breath, his natural scales and slit eye disappeared. It was time. Light, cameras, action. Logan, Virgil and Patton were already in the living room, around a board game and some dice. Three pairs of eyes turned to see the newcomer and Janus could quickly see Virgil switching the dice to another number. This could have put a smile on his face, but it wasn’t the moment. Patton had a small side, kinda nervous smile. -Hello kiddo, a..are you okay ? We haven’t seen you in a very long time. Oh yeah. Roman kinda closed himself off after the sides -well, Patton and Logan primarily- accepted to give Janus a seat at the table. The prince look-alike shrugged after putting on a nonchalant demeanor. -Oh you know, a prince needs his beauty sleep. Self care and all of that ! I just needed to think for a hot second. What are you playing, you nerds ? He needed to distract them for now, and also do his best to buy the most time possible for his partner. Logan adjusted his square glasses and loosened his tie. -Well, a game about financial gain, monetary organisation, estate management and…- Virgil cut him off -Monopoly, Logan, just say Monopoly. -Well i was just being precise and-..i'm pretty sure i had a five on my roll. Logan stared at the eyeshadowed emo man who just looked away with a sly little smirk on his face. Patton just laughed, he absolutely had no idea how to play but still had fun, and was against all odds, winning, even though he was just “buying what seemed nice” and getting insanely lucky with the dice. He felt kinda bad playing them like that, but he did what needed to be done. He just hopped that Remus didn’t mess up on his part. -Actually, i came here to talk about an important matter. The small bickering between them stopped as they turned toward the fake prince again, all curious. -I..thought about it for a very long time and i think it’s time to -against all odds- accept that this slimy snake can sometimes be right. We neglected Thomas’s well being for way too long. They looked each other in the eyes. Patton stood up and walked toward Janus before taking him in a warm, kind hug. He was cold blooded. This contact made him shiver a first, but he accepted it, even closing his eyes to focus on the comfort it made him feel. The personified morality looked at him with an innocent soft smile. -I know this was probably a hard decision to make kiddo, but i'm happy that you at least took the time to think about it. Virgil crossed his arms looking at him with a rose eyebrow. -Yeah, you’re usually stubborn and stay stuck in your position. What made you change your mind ? -Well “Purple Days”, guess I am able to have critical thinking ? See ? Hey Logan, I said critical thinking ! Big words here ! I just want to do what’s best for Thommy ! Jesus, this felt like a divine punishment. Acting like the himbo himself. And without another word and the same attitude, he walked up to the board to watch them play, actually he wasn’t even following, his mind was split between thinking about Remus’s situation and if he managed to do his part, and the unceasing affection from Patton. He was so trusting and kind, he even forgave him after impersonating him, but now wasn’t the time to doubt. He knew he did, what was necessary, or at least, he believed so.. He just wanted to be listened to.  ----------------------------------------- Kinda short I know, you know why ? It’s only half of the first chap ! This is Jan’s point of view, so expect to see a garbage bastard rat very very soon~ 

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p4

a/n: any one out here wilding? i’m just vibing and writing comes when you ave zero braincells left...

Waking up was a struggle, you’d never slept that deeply or that well. The combination between a long, hot shower and Earth-shattering sex made it all too easy to sleep. You were so, so sore, but it was good. You admitted you hadn’t been fucked like that, heavens, at all if not for a long while. You looked at the large mirror across from your bed, lifting up your shirt. You had a few book-related bruises. 

Stretching and feeling out the fact that you obviously didn’t have your sea legs yet. Your knees and thighs were wobbling and weak.

Then you caught it in the reflection. The collar- your collar. You half- thought it was just a fever dream. But it was real, and it’s weight was light but suddenly very noticable. The ring pressed against your larynx, the bow at the back felt oddly graceful as you flexed your neck to get a better look. 

You finally allowed yourself to cry- this was what dreams were made of. (hey now, hey now!) You were exhausted already, you were happy. You felt light years away from where you were before the Master whisked you away. Hell, the last time you saw the Doctor seemed just a memory. 

So much had changed. You felt completely different. Yes, you had all your same traits, likes and dislikes. But a week with the Master? Chaotic, mind blowing, devastating, beautiful, enriching and most of all, beyond your wildest dreams and even your deepest darkest wishes.

You definitely were different. The collar around your throat and the bruises and sore, stiff muscles proved you were. Not only were you having a tea party with the Devil, but you were the Devil’s whore. 

It was wicked, and all too amazing. He treated you well for the most part. Very well. For only knowing you a week, he seemed to harbor no true ill will. 

You got dressed and wracked your brain, reconciling everything finally and putting thoughts in boxes where they needed to go. It was slow, but needed. And time really did not matter anymore. You splashed yourself with cold water from the sink and prepared yourself mentally for outside your solitary walls. You had no clue what was waiting outside and you needed to put yourself out of any more revieries that might pop up. You had a lot of thoughts, and a lot of places to add up. Obviously, pro and con lists were out of the questions these days.

You supposed if this was a standard exchange of power, that rules and limits would be in place, but there was already the imbalance of aliens with knowledge of all of history, time travel, and space. Humans were simpler and had an equal footing. Therefore it was always up for debate.

You were halfway through finishing your daily SPF and thought about what if’s. Where was this all going? You couldn’t ask, obviously. He made it all up as he went along as much, if not more than the Doctor.

Poor Doctor, you allowed yourself to think, picks you up from your mundane routine only for you to better fit in with her best enemy. 

Her loss, his gain.

Things added up, morals and ethics wise. The Doctor could be just as callous and just as insane, yet hid behind the greater good. She was a spoonful of sugar whereas he was castor oil. Twin sides of a coin…

You shook yourself from these thoughts. Too much to process in one morning for you, especially without caffeine to mainline. 

You finished up and made your way out after stretching and taking a few excedrin you found rattling around the medicine chest. This TARDIS was incredibly intuitive and even materialised all your usual products you used. Or maybe the Master read your mind and supplied them. Either way, it was a big help…

You made your way out and sat down to an already piping hot mug of coffee and a tinkering Master. Your heart and stomach gave a flutter. You rolled your eyes at your over-eagerness.

“You’re finally up, I was worried that I’d have to physically go in there…”

You sloshed into yourself, “How long was I actually asleep?”

“19 hours. I think that qualifies as a coma with you humans.” 

“I obviously needed to sleep.” You talked into your coffee mug. It tasted good. Strong, a little crunchy, very much the perfect cup you didn’t have to add anything to.

“Mmn, you made this?” You asked, pointing to the mug held loft in your hand.

“Of course, I know how to make coffee, spent years on the Outback of Australia, I got bored, I know how to be perfect at everything…”

“Yeah, sure, perfect at everything.” You rolled eyes again, this time at him. 

“I am the Master.”

“Alright, alright.” You gave a concessional hand. You stared into your coffee and contemplated breakfast. You weren’t usually a big fan of eating in the morning, but all things considered you scraped yourself away from the coffee and started looking through the cupboards to see if anything was appealing to you in the moment. Nothing seemed terribly tasty so you just grabbed a bowl of random cereal and some sort of liquid you assumed was oat milk by the scent. 

You felt his eyes studying your back the entire time, you didn’t know if it was in an observational manner or just perversely taking a peek at your backside. 

“You like the show?” You demanded jokingly. 

“Of course, pet…” He leaned back and placed the device he had down. It was a long silver and gold rod with three prongs at the tip. “I see my pretty little pet has found her pretty little treat.” He went over and flipped a strand of your hair and fingered the collar at your neck before stroking at your sternum. He smiled down and flexed his lips open. The lighting made his teeth glitter dangerously. 

The dim lighting really brought out a beautiful tone to his lips. You tried to return to your cereal, but you pecked him on the cheek and steered yourself to a seated position. Temptation could take a temporary back burner. You had to get some semblance of nutrition into you.

He joined you at the table. 

“I was thinking of a few ideas, but I wanted your input.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really, I can more than enough make my own choices, but to spice it up, why not get some feedback? What chaos shall be wrought today?” He bent over the table, disregarding the personal space needed to eat a bowl of cereal and let actual brain-processing happen. 

“What all did you have in mind?” You scooted back infinitesimally and tried to finish breakfast quickly. 

He quickly pointed to some post-it notes, “Here’s the name of an intergalactic crime boss who owes me a few favors, figured we could go and rough him up until he squeals, giving me the powerful weaponry we all know he has. Or, here’s a plan to visit a certain set of pepper pots and make some deals that most definitely will backfire, but it would be great fun to see them get frustrated and deny the fact that they can get frustrated. Or I was thinking of visiting Earth and teasing Torchwood and UNIT around early 2000’s Cardiff, you know, for funsies. Oh! What if we went back to Raxacoricofallapatorius and destroyed their nursery?” He was spinning around and fluttering between notebooks and sketches including one where he was strangling a person in an army uniform and a handlebar moustache. 

“Jesus, how fast does your brain go?” You massage your temples…

“Too much? Huh? What would you suggest then?” He pouted, placing a hand at his hip and jutting it out.

“Why don’t we just start slow and nothing Earthly? Crime boss seem good? Simple even…” You slurped the milk off the spoon, “But lemme finish Breakfast first!” Pointing it at him, “Slow your roll. Savor the day. Do you Time Lords even sleep?”

“Rarely.” 

“Wow, that explains so much.”

He querched an eyebrow, “And what would that be, love?” The love felt oddly formal, not like being called a pet. 

“I’ve only met two of you, mind, so I might be generalizing...but the high energy. Like... “ You pressed your fingertips together, “Napping? Don’t you enjoy finding a good place to sleep during the day and just sleeping and enjoying the restfulness and sensations of the sun through a window and maybe a breeze if you open it a bit.”

“No, I’d love to try it, sounds pleasurable…”

“And you said that you were the Master of Everything.” You false-scandalized then laughed, cupping his face and smiling at him. It was great. He really made you laugh in one of those cheesy, stupid ways.

“I could punish you for talking down to your Owner…” He teased right back.

“Oooh...dirty.” You gave a salacious wink.

You could feel the “You have no idea…” radiating from his pores.

“Come along, my pet…” He pulled you from the table and over to the console, “We got a crime boss to torture…”

He punched in the coordinates and grabbed his jacket, then pulled you out the door…

You were toasting your success in the newly acquired weapons-room that now belonged to, as he poured you a little more champagne. 

You oddly enjoyed helping torturing the poor sap. He squirmed and you enjoyed him blanching from pain. 

The machine you saw him working on was a laser screw-driver? And he gave it to you as he was attaching some high tech hand-cuffs to the man. He told you that the controls were intuitive and to “give it a whirl...see how that grabs you…” Watching the gross little green man scream and shake around, flushing and pleading- felt good. Felt powerful. It brought you a tingle of pleasure and you could see why the Master was fond of it. The device felt good in your hand and after the second whorl of your wrist, it felt like a natural extension. It felt right to hold it in your hand and be able to grasp such power. 

A bit of sadism? Then champagne? And the thrill of a steal? All felt like an adrenaline rush.

What were you becoming?

A shred of our conscience echoed about the fact that you, obviously, had to kill him, something the Master allowed you to turn into him and avert your eyes as he shrunk his body and flicked it into a drainage gate. He knew your limits and didn’t go past what he knew you could currently take. You grimaced a bit as you heard a tiny clink. That was a tad harsh. 

All in all, a busy day... 

He was busy cataloging and cooing at all the tech he had access to his as he put it “fun, evil plans”...

It was hilarious and so endearing to watch. He was like a kid in a candy shop. Soft, feral, incorrigible. 

You determined that a small nap whilst tipsy and moonstruck was a great gift to yourself. You felt the collar and played idly with the diamond heart until you blacked out. 

You woke up to him watching you. “One of those fabulous little naps you talked of?” He stroked your thigh and massaged the fabric of your shorts. You pulled yourself up and propped yourself up on your elbows and coyly smiled, “Care to join me?” You winked, “Take a walk on the wild side. It’s a real treat. After that...who knows?” You teased him. 

He considered it and then loosened the buttons, and took off his jacket before laying it down and rolling up his sleeves. He laid down and you offered him to slide up to you. He obliged stiffly but soonly gave in. You spotted his chest hair and stared at it for a moment. You then acted, you traced it, mildly twirling your finger in its mass, he shuddered and then left you to continue. You laid down your head on his chest and felt his hearts pounding between two different beats. 

He murmured, “Keep the screwdriver. A little gift. From me to you…” You felt his hearts hitch a bit.

Sighing, you told him, “Relax." You let out a sleepy little moan. You embraced the warmth of his body and soothing echoing in his chest like a whitenoise machine. "You're doing excellent.." The Master eased up and you felt yourself ease up and drift off. You dreamt of falling through water and waves and the scent of fires and musk. You could feel a pair of eyes watching you, but they felt nonjudgmental, just guiding you deeper down. Deeper under the spell of sleep and total darkness. 

[lamortexiii]

Shades and Shadows: What Exactly is an Art Witch?

We live in an age now where you’re no longer burned at the stake for identifying as a witch or wanting to burn down your local church. If anything it’s become trendy, and all kinds of different witches are cropping up as a result. In fact, the internet is loaded with posts where you can essentially Web MD whether you have the qualifying “symptoms” of a witch, and all sorts of little BuzzFeed-esque quizzes to further help you identify just what kind of witch you might be. While this is cute and whatnot, witchcraft is ultimately a path; it’s a practice. I myself am still learning every day. If you caught my introduction post, you may be wondering what exactly an art witch is, or what art even has to do with witchcraft or the occult in general. Let me explain…

Creativity is something that requires you to tap into the unseen, and for me, this is where the correlation between art and the occult begins. Art is a means of entering another world, and it’s actually how I got into witchcraft and the occult in the first place. While my interest in such began at a much younger age, actively practicing and delving in didn’t begin until later when I started painting abstracts. I had no idea this was the path painting would lead me down. Like anything new, painting was initially an experiment. It was fun, it was easy, it was something I could do without thinking too hard, and it felt like I was finally tapping into myself. But something strange began to happen as I got more and more into art, I started to feel as though I was stepping out of my current reality and into something more. I would get so engrossed in what I was doing that when I would step away from a painting, I found myself wondering where it had come from and who had painted it. Of course I never told anybody for fear of sounding insane, but I began to wonder about this something more I was stepping into. So I started asking questions and suddenly found myself with a wealth of information that actually resonated with me.

Ever since then, I’ve made art a part of my practice. Not necessarily on a daily basis, but the parts of my practice that don’t involve art still work to strengthen myself as an artist. The two just seem to intertwine so well. Basically, an art witch is someone who not only incorporates art into their practice but finds a solid connection with their practice through their art. It’s more than just being an artist who also happens to practice witchcraft. I think anything creative that you can incorporate into your practice will strengthen both you and your practice, and I think that goes back to what I said earlier about creativity being a way to tap into the unseen. Really what makes you any kind of witch is figuring out where you feel like you step into your power. Where is it that you find that solid connection with yourself? If you want to find your connection to anyone or anything else, especially something intangible like “the other side,” you first have to find that connection with yourself, and that connection then has to be nurtured. There are many ways you can incorporate art into your practice, which I will be discussing further in upcoming posts, but one very basic application is using it to keep your mental health in check. Walking a spiritual path of any sort does not make you immune to life’s challenges, and let’s face it, 2020 has been the year for challenges. I would be lying if I were to say I haven’t been thrown off track a few times. However, looking back on those moments it’s easy to see where I just wasn’t applying any of my practice to keep myself in check.

Art is incredibly powerful in healing rituals, so naturally one of the main things I do to keep my mental health in check is to paint. I understand that not everyone is an artist or even remotely interested in such, but chances are you’re more creative than you think. When you’re engaged in something like artwork, you’re momentarily distracted from what ails you. You’re also allowing whatever state you’re in to just be, meaning you’re not berating yourself for it, which often does more damage than the initial state itself. An art ritual can be as simple as lighting a candle or burning incense and putting what you feel onto canvas. Lighting a candle or burning incense alone can sometimes be enough to help shift your state of mind. Of course no practice is meant to replace working with a professional when necessary, but it can certainly aid in the process. Art doesn’t always have to be a serious practice either though. There are times when I take what I’m doing more seriously, but it can be easy to get too caught up in that, so it’s equally important to let go and have fun.

Something new I’ve incorporated into my art practice is connecting with my paintings through card reading. As Ja Rule once said in a rap skit, “the cards never lie, it’s all in the tarot reading.” In all seriousness though, I find reading cards an excellent way to check in with my own energy, the energy around me, and as I stated, the energy of my paintings. One of the areas I began to feel stuck regarding my artwork was feeling like I never knew what to say about my pieces. It felt as though I wasn’t connecting with my own paintings on the level of the story they have to tell. Pulling cards is a creative way for me to go about that connection and allows for expansion in both my art and my practice. If you’re familiar with reading cards, then you know the kind of guidance and insight they have to offer, but it had never occurred to me to incorporate them in my art practice.

I think a lot of the time when we feel stuck, whether it’s in an area of life, an emotional state, or even a mindset, it’s because we need to look at how we could expand whatever it is. Even I go through periods where my artwork and practice feel stagnant, and it’s usually because I’m lacking growth in that area. All the extra free time we’ve been given this year due to the pandemic is also giving us the opportunity for major growth, and as many of us know, that can be uncomfortable. Maybe it’s time to try new things. I think it’s become glaringly evident (at least in the United States) that the way we’ve been going about things as a society is not working. Maybe that’s what the rising interest in witchcraft and the occult is all about. More and more people are waking up to the fact that a lot of what we’ve been fed, such as traditional religion, isn’t working anymore. Let me make it perfectly clear though, I have nothing against religion, so if it works for you that’s great.

For me witchcraft is about stepping into your own power. Does that mean you need it? No, of course not, it’s simply a tool. That’s why I can’t stress enough the importance of figuring out where you step into your power, or what it is that energizes you. It doesn’t have to be art or even witchcraft for that matter. It could literally be anything. Follow the things that spark your interest. If you are following the path of witchcraft, incorporate these things into your practice, even if they seem completely unrelated. These are all simple tools, and they will give you something to work with when you meet life’s inevitable challenges. It will also help to expand you and your practice as well.

Shades and Shadows Blog by @thecraftyvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

<•Ø•>

[storm-driver]

Hi! Do you have any writing tips for Roxas and Ventus? :D

I am about to bash heads in with this, you might wanna sit down.

I’m known to be particularly brutal when it comes to analysis and judgement of others’ works, so asking for my advice might lead to me being very harsh about it. I also just typed up a bit of shit and one misclick on my keyboard deleted literally all of and I’m PISSED the fuck off at Tumblr for not having an AUTO SAVE FEATURE ON POSTS. But whatever here we go

I’d qualify this as a character’s study, because that’s honestly what I’m doing. I’m gonna cite to you my character studies for Roxas and Ventus. I’ve spent literal days analyzing their archetypes and who they are as people. And all I’m gonna do is cite it. Below the cut because oof I got a LOT TO SAY

Ventus is one character I see people get half right and half wrong in their fan works. Many characterize him as a bubbly and upbeat, naive child with hardly a copious sense of what it means to be the kind of child warrior that he is. A Mary Sue, to use a term. And to an extent, Ventus can seem very Mary-Sue-like, being such a young person and such a caring and, at times, gullible child.

In the story of BBS, we see Ventus progress through the worlds in search of his friend, deliberately defying his Master’s wishes in the process. When he finds out one of his friends, Aqua, was only out looking for them to drag them home, he called her an awful person. From the moment he met Vanitas, he was flat out rude (though with reason).

Point being, even if Ventus’ heart is literally made from pure light, he is not a pure person. He makes mistakes. He has choices he regrets. He’s not happy with everything that’s ever happened. He has his dislikes, things that make him uncomfortable, things that he hates. He’s not a saint. He’s not without flaws. So in my honest opinion, he cannot be written without them.

One of Ven’s most defining character traits is his personality being a near polar opposite of Roxas’, the character whom he most resembles. Ventus is upbeat, he’s outgoing, he wants to see new places and meet new people. He wants to protect those people and he wants to call them his friends. And sometimes, that’s his downfall.

His overtly strong care for Terra, as his brother-in-training, led him to defy his Master and go out on his own. This led to Ven going about and protecting people from the “monsters” (Unversed) that plagued all the worlds. A good outcome, yes, but it led to Ven’s doubts about who Terra was and what he was capable of. And that led to a falling out in their friendship. To a point where Ven was so hurt by Terra not letting him come on the journey, Ven kept going just to find new friends. A hint of jealousy.

As the series has progressed, though, we find Ventus is acting a bit more mature after he woke up in KH3. When Aqua started to feel down that Terra was still missing, Ventus held his Wayfinder to the stars and assured her that they would be able to bring him home. A role reversal that showed how much Ven has grown as a person, given that it was usually Aqua, one of the most mature characters in the series, who would support Ven in his times of need.

All in all, Ventus remains a very kind-hearted person who I’d hope is still eager to make new friends. Though he’s matured just enough to realize that the world may be a bit more complicated than the black and white views that Eraqus taught him. I.E. When he told Vanitas that he didn’t ask to be split away, that their split didn’t define them. And you can visibly see Ventus get upset when Vanitas insists that all he is capable of being is darkness.

It’s such a strong sign of maturity that Ven also calmly accepts Vanitas’ answer. He doesn’t try to fight it like Sora does. He’s aware that he can’t change what some people think, and he just needs to live with it. Giving up on an argument, especially with someone as stubborn as Vanitas has shown to be, is an insanely strong sign of maturity that not a lot of characters show with such a collected grasp on the situation. Ventus knew exactly what he was saying. And that’s amazing growth from when he tried to argue with Terra and Aqua in BBS.

I would say he’s a kind person. Still a bit childish around the edges, as he’s shown he’s capable of being. But he isn’t quite a child anymore. He knows what he’s supposed to be, what Vanitas is supposed to be, and how this development affects him as a person. He’s very mature for his age, but still very caring. And maybe just a little naive.

Roxas, on the other hand, might feel like a polar opposite.

Consider first that Roxas is just over a year old. He’s almost as close as you can get to an infant in this series, besides the literal children Sora, Riku and Kairi from BBS. He probably doesn’t have a fantastic grasp on even the most simple concepts like gender or friendship. That second one should most especially be true to Roxas.

Something I tend to see people do very wrong when writing Roxas is making him emotionally driven by nothing but sheer anger. Yes, Roxas’ most defining trait is his remarkable ability to dual-wield, something he learned through the unbridled rage of watching his best friend die in his arms. But think about why he’s angry first and you start to unveil who Roxas really is.

First and foremost, he’s a tragedy of a character. Everything about his existence is tragic and leaves the viewer with strong pity and condolences for Roxas. He even pities himself and the fate he’s forced to face by end of KH2. Why, though, is it all so tragic? How come Roxas’ story hurts more than, say, Riku’s or Aqua’s?

Part of it comes back to Roxas being born a literal blank slate. He had no grasp on reality for an entire week after he was born. No sense of purpose, what was right and wrong, self-preservation or care for other things. He needed to be taught what all of that meant, and it was only after he made the mistake of following Xemnas and joining the Organization. It’s akin to a child being adopted and immediately put to work for the efforts of the homeowners. The child knows no better than to do so. Especially for Roxas, who has literally no memories or cohesion of who he is.

Furthermore, the person who taught him what it was to be alive, to be friends with others and to experience joy, ended up betraying his trust and flat-out lying to him for most of the time that they were friends. Axel may not have enjoyed lying to Roxas, but the point being that he did. And it gave Roxas trust issues from that point onward.

Now that’s not to say that Roxas isn’t capable of liking other people. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We know that Roxas wants to be friends with others. In a way, it mimics Ventus’ wishes to make new friends, and maybe even has some deeper meaning to it. (We do know that Ventus’ heart was with Roxas for some time, so who knows, maybe it was overflow?) We know for a fact that Roxas would’ve liked very much to be friends with some kids he saw in Twilight Town. There’s even a point in the manga where Roxas says that he was jealous of their friendship.

Now I also wouldn’t put it past Roxas to be a little cold towards people. For someone who’s gone through as much tragedy as he has, he has a right to be cold. But it’s not like it was every random stranger’s fault that he had such a shitty start to his life. Roxas has shown he’s capable of being compassionate and kind to others, even to people he doesn’t know too well. I know the Roxas we met in the data Twilight Town wasn’t exactly genuine, but the little mini-games you did during his segment? Just proof that, if Roxas didn’t have his Hell of a life at the constant front, maybe he could’ve lived a bit more calmly. Been a helpful person around town and just an overall calm and chill person.

Of course, he probably has his gripes. I think he’d be playful and teasing with his friends. Maybe give Riku a cold look for that time he stole the munny pouch. Stare at Ventus oddly for a few seconds before realizing that it wasn’t a mirror he was looking at. But he wouldn’t be 99% anger and 1% “ice cream!” Everything Roxas has gone through doesn’t lead directly to rage mode 24/7, despite how much we as a community joke about it.

Roxas is a compassionate and loving person, but because of his numerous trust issues in the past, he might hold some friends closer than others. He can be nice to anyone he wants to, but only so few people know what Roxas is really like. He has a playful side, but he’s also capable of being very aggressive, stubborn-willed, and flat rude when he wants to be. He might even have a bit of a temper problem. But that doesn’t define him. He is Roxas, nobody else.

[dovechim]

schrödinger’s cat

➾ guardian angel! jimin x reader

➾ schrödinger’s cat: a quantum mechanic thought experiment where a cat is placed in a box with radioactive material. if the box is not opened by the observer, the cat is thought to be both alive and dead at the same time. if the box is opened, the observer becomes entangled with the cat in its multiple dead or alive states. it is often used to express the ‘many worlds’ interpretation of quantum mechanics.

➾ 9.8k

➾ summary: one day, when you wish aloud for someone to come and save you, your wish is granted. except your guardian angel doesn’t really know how things work yet. 

➾ a/n: recently i came across a genius book called ‘Oh, The Places You’ll Go’ by Dr Seuss that has brought me immense comfort and encouragement during difficult times. you can read it here. please read it and keep it close to you in the tough times to come. i wanted to share his words with you all, and also say a few things to anyone who’s going through a hard time like i am. like jimin’s ‘promise’, this was written for myself, but it is also for you. 

love you ♡＾▽＾♡

“Thank you so much for your time. We’ll be in contact with you within 2 weeks to let you know the outcome of your application,” the head interviewer- the woman with the slicked back hair, also the head of the marketing department- gives you a cool smile and pushes her chair back to show you the door.

You return her smile without a word and follow her to the door, exchanging a brief handshake and the appropriate pleasantries before you step outside. If someone had asked you what you had just said mere moments ago, you wouldn’t be able to tell them, for your mind is currently a whirling mess, it feels like you can’t breathe if you stay in this building for a second longer.

“Dear Lord, please save me,” you mutter under your breath as you punch the button for the elevator repeatedly, willing the doors to open faster.

The moment you step out into the open and fresh air hits your face, the moment where you catch a glimpse of the wide expanse of blue sky overhead; your breathing returns to normal, and your heartrate slows till it’s no longer burning a path through your chest. Looking up at the infinite stretch of clouds helps to remind you that you are merely just another tiny little human being in the grand scheme of things, and that sense of powerlessness that threatens to consume your entire being also helps to hammer in the reality that it’s impossible for you to be in control of the outcome of a situation.

Not in control, hence not to be blamed.

It should be as simple as that, right? Still, as you walk down the street slowly in your heels that pinch your feet with every step, you can’t help but obsess over every single word uttered during that 40 minute interview. Whether you said the right things or not; if you came off as confident enough, or if you’re even qualified enough for this job in the first place.

The sun is slowly sinking down over the horizon of the skyline dotted with high rise buildings, being swallowed up by the metal skyscrapers as it douses everything in a sunset glow. And as you walk slowly to the bus stop, you can’t help but feel as if everything, everyone around you is rushing with a sense of purpose that directs them to where they need to go.

“Good lord, could your thoughts be any more depressing? I feel like I’m watching a soap opera,” a voice suddenly jolts you out of your musing, and you glance wildly around, ripping out an ear bud to make sure that you’re not hearing things.

When really, you should have rubbed your eyes to make sure that you aren’t seeing things. If only you weren’t wearing makeup today, dammit.

On the bench next to you is a brown haired boy with round cheeks, plump lips and a teasing smile. You’ve never seen this man in your life, not to mention he looks painfully out of place in his white tee and jeans amidst a crowd of working adults all in office wear.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” You shift uncomfortably away on the bench when you realise that he is sitting almost hip to hip with you, tugging on the lapels of your blazer to collect your thoughts. “Do I know you?”

Your barrage of questions draws strange looks from the people around you, and you frown in confusion, turning back to the strange man beside you. Upon seeing your expression, he only laughs so hard that his entire body shakes in his amusement, he slaps his knee, throws his head back and covers his mouth in an attempt to contain his giggles. You’re about to ask him just what exactly is so funny when the stranger manages to collect himself.

“You may want to pretend that you’re talking into your phone or something. I mean, unless you want to get more weird looks, that is,” he looks strangely pleased with himself as he reaches for the lapels of your blazer and straightens it. “There, that’s better. You don’t know me, but you do now.”

You flinch when you feel his touch on your blazer. “Excuse me, do I need to repeat myself? Who the hell are you?”

A woman standing nearby looks over in concern, tugging out one side of her earbuds as she turns to you. Your raised voice has apparently drawn the attention of a few other people around you, and they are all glancing over, but there are also a few people taking a few steps away from you, as if you’re a lunatic causing a scene. The woman glances at you from head to toe to make sure you’re all right. “Miss, is everything alright? Do you require assistance?”

You hastily push yourself off the bench just to put some distance in between you and this strange man who’s still laughing at you. “There, that man was touching me, and he says I know him when I clearly don’t. Also, he’s laughing like a maniac right about now, can’t you hear him? I think he’s just escaped from prison or something, and-“

“Miss, I think you should sit down,” the woman places her hands on your arm and attempts to guide you back to the bench.

“I don’t need to sit down,” you shrug her grip off angrily, glancing at the stranger beside you in irritation. “This guy just needs to back off.”

“I-I’m not sure I’m following,” the woman glances you nervously, her eyes shifting to the empty space beside you.

Beside you, the man sighs as he wipes his eyes from laughing too hard. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? If you did as I told you to, things wouldn’t have to come to this. Now you’ve got a crowd of people staring at you like you’re insane.”

You grit your teeth as you glance around the bus stop and realise that he’s right. For some reason, no one else is able to see or hear him, not even when he laughs that stupid, annoying giggle that already haunts you.

“Look, just this once I’ll help you get out of this,” he says as he stands from the bench and snaps his fingers.

Almost at once, out of nowhere, a few buses pull up to the stop, and the woman who had been staring at you in concern pats your arm a few times before she huddles toward her bus along with the crowd. Frowning in confusion, since those buses weren’t supposed to be here for another five minutes- according to your app- you watch them board their respective buses, leaving you still waiting. Somehow every single bus except yours has arrived. Soon, the entire bus stop is empty, leaving you with the stranger.

“Who are you?” You repeat again, sliding to the other end of the bench and bending over to pick up your heel in what you hope is a threatening manner. As little as you think your life is worth- not much in the bank, even less in your purse- you’re ready to fight to the death to defend yourself. “If you’re looking for money, I’m afraid you picked the wrong person.”

The man only laughs again- the sound is jarring to your ears as he runs a hand luxuriously through his brown hair. “Money? What’s that? No, I’m not looking for money. I’ve been assigned to you.”

“What?” Your voice is startlingly loud, and a few newcomers at the bus stop turn to glance at you once again. Irritated, you hold your phone to your ear and pretend to speak into it. This makes the mystery man smirk in approval. “Assigned? What the fuck? Is this some kind of practical joke?”

“You did ask for someone to save you, did you not?” He frowns for a second, and then breaks out into a jovial smile that has his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I’m Park Jimin, your personal guardian angel.”

“What- when did I-“ The memory hits you and you groan loudly, massaging your temples as you sit back on the bench, hard. “Listen, I’m not falling for this. If there’s any hidden camera here, the jig is up, I’m onto you.”

You get up and pace a few steps away, wrenching your phone away from your ear and shoving it into your bag in what you hope is a clear signal to Jimin- you don’t want to talk to him any longer. Instead, the man follows you like a lovesick puppy.

“This isn’t a joke, and I know it’s hard to believe,” Jimin says, manoeuvring his body to stand in front of you. “But it’s real. It’s all real. Guardian angels exist, and I’m yours.”

“If that’s true, then-“ You stop yourself mid-sentence, glancing around self-consciously before pulling out your phone again, contrary to what you had planned. “You expect me to believe that my guardian angel is some hot and cute 20 something year old boy? That’s too good to be true. And nothing this good ever happens to me. So you’re out of luck, buddy.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, arms crossed, expression deadpan. “I take the form of whatever you want me to be. I don’t make the rules here; my appearance is whatever your sub-conscious wishes it to be.”

Stumped, you’re at a loss for words as you stare at him for a moment, feeling your cheeks heat up as you scramble around for something to say. Luckily, you’re saved when your bus pulls up to the stop, and you hurry to board it.

Unfortunately, Jimin is just a step behind you, surrounded by hoardes of working adults all pushing and shoving against each other to board the bus. When the doors close right in Jimin’s face, you breathe a sigh of relief against your seat, closing your eyes for a moment to clear your head of the momentary insanity. You clearly need a break from all this, or else you’re going to lose it for good.

“This is what you deal with every day?” A familiar voice sounds from above, and you rip your eyes open to find Jimin standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets, frowning at how crowded the bus is. “Thank God I don’t have a corporeal body.”

“Stop following me!” You hiss at him surreptitiously, but thankfully everyone else on the bus is plugged into their phones and not even paying attention. “What do you even want?”

Jimin shrugs as the bus stops and the doors open for more passengers to get in. The people around him begin to shuffle in to make room, and he sees it fit to just plop down on your lap, settling his ass on your thighs with a smug smile. “Ah, that’s better now isn’t it?”

“What the fuck? Jimin!!!! You can’t just- you can’t just sit on my lap like this!” You shift under his unexpected weight, wondering if you can just push him off your lap.

“Why not?” The little bastard shifts around to find a more comfortable spot, propping his elbow on the seat in front of him and leaning his head on his hand as he grins at you. “Do you have any idea how awful it feels for someone to walk right through your body? This way’s so much better. That is, unless, someone comes along and sits on your lap.”

“No oneis sitting on my lap,” you enunciate your words clearly but under your breath. “And that includes you.”

If anyone could see this, it would be a strange sight indeed. A grown man sitting on a woman’s lap, grinning as if he’d just won the lottery. In fact, he rather resembles a Cheshire Cat. For a second you wish that the people around you could see just how ridiculous your life has become, then at least you won’t have to suffer this fate alone. You can’t even tell if this man is real or not- from the way his ass feels on your thighs, firm and taut, he certainly does feel real to you, but the lack of public outrage over how he’s completely invading your private space begs you to think otherwise.

“That’s it, I’m calling my therapist,” you mutter under your breath, digging in your bag for your phone and scrolling through your contacts. Clearly you’ve been rescheduling way too many appointments, and this is just your brain’s way of telling you that you’re one step off from tipping over the edge.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Jimin stops you with his hand on your wrist, pulling your phone toward him to see your screen rudely. “Ah, calling your therapist? Doesn’t work, that trick. Neither does calling the police, friends or family… Trust me, I’ve seen it done before and it did not end well. You’re not crazy, if that’s any help. But if you do make that call, you’ll be sent to the asylum quicker than that.”

He snaps his fingers right in your face, and you flinch in response, earning you an annoyed look from the old woman sitting beside you. Muttering an apology, you send another glare Jimin’s way, but it only confuses the hell out of the teenage girl sitting across from you. Your temples are throbbing, feet aching, and you just want to go home and sleep away this insanity. Perhaps after a few hours of hitting the hay you’ll be in your right mind again.

The man on your lap is way too pleased with himself. His grin stretches across his face and he pretends to check his reflection in the window. Key word being pretend.

“Get off, this is my stop,” you mutter under your breath, and graciously, Jimin stands. You make your way past him to the exit doors, tapping your card and clomping down the stairs in your heels. Maybe when you turn around, Jimin won’t be there.

It’s only wishful thinking.

“Which way now?” Jimin chirps brightly as he bounces on the balls of his feet, looking around your neighbourhood.

*

“Hey, you got anything else other than peanut butter and jam? And I don’t like white bread, do you have brown?” Jimin calls from the kitchen, and you are just about ready to pull your hair out.

Contrary to your highest hopes, a nap did not make Jimin go away. You’re beginning to regret ever asking for someone to save you. Your mother always told you to be careful about what you wished for, and while you’d never taken her advice seriously, it’s only fitting that karma comes back to bite you in the ass like this. She’d probably tell you that you deserve it.

Almost at the end of your rope now, you tear into the kitchen and spot Jimin raiding your fridge, a carton of orange juice in one hand and a box of cereal in the other. And then you truly see red.

“Wow, you live like this? How can someone live on milk and cereal and nothing else?”

“Look, this was fun while it lasted, but you need to leave. Now. Before I call the fucking police,” you spit at the brown haired man in your kitchen, but he only glances at you for a second before taking a swig of orange juice.

“By all means, call them. I hope you’ve realised by now that no one else can see me except for you.” Jimin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh and if you haven’t come to that conclusion, then that’s me telling you, by the way.”

“How is it that you need to eat then? This literally makes no sense at all, and if this is some fucked up way of telling me that I’ve lost my mind, then I get it, I fucking get it!” You are fighting back tears now, your voice unsteady and you have to pause to take a few deep breaths. You haven’t cried since the day you got your period and realised you’d have to be spending five days a month bleeding your guts out, and you aren’t about to start now. Especially not in front of this stranger.

Jimin calmly turns around to appraise your bedraggled self, tear streaked cheeks and hair sticking out in every direction. “I told you. I’m here to save you. I’m your guardian angel.”

A chuckle of disbelief pours out of your lips, and you tilt you head back to the ceiling, closing your eyes and feeling the laughter shake your frame thoroughly. It’s been a while since you actually laughed like this, and insane or not, you actually have to thank Jimin for that. “Save me? And how, pray tell, is this saving me? And if you were meant to save me, where the hell were you for the past six months?”

Your lip wobbles and your breath hitches, a sure tell-tale sign of the water works. “In case you haven’t noticed, this has been my personal hell for a while now.”

For the first time since you met him, Jimin actually looks unsure of himself as he glances down at his feet, eyes shifting from side to side uncertainly. “Um, well actually, there’s one thing I forgot to tell you. Actually, I’m… this is my first assignment. You see, we… there’s this entire department in heaven. Dedicated to assigning people their guardian angels. And you’re my first assignment, so I’m pretty new to all this, and…”

“Oh my God,” you groan out loud as you grope your way to the kitchen table and sink down into a seat. “Not only did I get an extra annoying one, I got an amateur one too. Great. Just my luck.”

While Jimin seems to have brushed aside all your earlier insults and jibes, this one seems to hit him where it hurts. If there was any doubt that he was indeed an angel, it is all cleared up now, for staring into the face of a fallen angel is the most jarring thing you’ve ever had to witness. His face clouded over with rejection, the corners of his mouth turned down, eyes dark and sad as he bites his bottom lip hard and turns away.

A bolt of guilt strikes you hard. You wonder if it’s possible to go to Hell for tormenting one of God’s angels.

“Hey… um, there’s some brown bread in the bread box over there,” you hazard, getting up slowly to approach him. “And I have some Nutella too.”

You move carefully around him, wary of igniting some of the Heavenly rage you’ve always read about. You’re not a devout Christian, but you know enough about the Bible to know not to mess with celestial bodies. As you pull out the jar of Nutella, you slide it over the counter to him, and his hand twitches as the jar bumps into him.

Jimin turns slightly so that you can see some of his side profile now. You watch him as he slowly twists open the jar of chocolate spread, stopping as he glances around for a knife or spoon to spread it with.

“Just between you and me… sometimes when I’m alone I eat it straight from the jar.” You tell him as you keep your eyes on him. “It’s better than sinning.”

The joke actually makes a smile tug at the corner of Jimin’s lips as he tentatively dips one of his fingers into the gooey chocolate spread and brings it to his lips. He glances at you uncertainly for a second before licking his own finger, and a delighted hum emanates from his chest. “That’s so good!”

He goes back in for seconds as you turn away to hide the smile on your own lips. Strangely enough, your heart feels a lot lighter than it did five minutes ago.

*

Living with Jimin hasn’t actually been all that different. He has a voracious appetite, but he also tells you that anything he eats is magically replaced by the next day, so you don’t complain too much when he finishes an entire jar of Nutella by himself the first two days. Until you introduce him to a jar of Speculoos spread, and he goes crazy over that too.

For the first two weeks you tried everything you know to get rid of him. It’s not that you hate him, per se, it’s just uncomfortable having a total stranger living with you, and one who claims that he was sent down to Earth to ‘save’ you, whatever that means. You still not entirely sure he isn’t a conman who’s just moved in with you. You’ve tried literally everything, from putting laxatives in all his/ your favourite food and ending up spending the entire day in the toilet yourself. You even resorted to running away from home and staying with a friend for a day or two till he showed up in the middle of the night standing beside your friend’s bed, and you had a hard time explaining to her why you screamed bloody murder and woke up her whole house.

You even contacted a psychic, visited a priest to get exorcised (is it even possible to be haunted by an angel?), and briefly considered running away to a nunnery. All to no avail, though you’ll save that last one for when you’re really desperate.

Long story short, it seems as if Jimin is here to stay.

In your tiny apartment with only one room, it means that you have literally no privacy from Jimin at all. You and him are together 24/7, and as someone who grew up an only child, you can’t say that you are loving this arrangement. He sees every tiny thing you do, from the way you roll over in your sleep, arms outstretched and legs curled up, to how you leave your used plates and cups lying around after using them. There’s not much you can do about it though, and the one thing you pride yourself on is adapting, so you quickly get used to it.

In your stint of job searching and unemployment, your days are pretty much empty except for a few part time jobs here and there, tutoring students and shifts at the convenience store. And submitting job applications and preparing for interviews, of course.

“So tell me again, there’s an entire department in Heaven just for guardian angels?” You ask Jimin one Monday night, after getting back from a five hour shift at the store.

Jimin glances up from where he’s on your laptop, pushing himself into a sitting position. In the first few days you got used to seeing him in shirts and jeans, but then you figured it can’t be very comfortable for him to sleep in jeans all the time. So you started giving him more roomy white slacks, and paired with his white shirt, he’s now dressed to fit the part of guardian angel. He’s taken to watching anime on your laptop, and when you teased him about being a weeb, Jimin retaliated with your questionable living habits, and you were silent after that.

“Yeah, there is. The Head Archangel, Saint Gabriel assigns us all. For newer angels like me, we spend our first few months learning the basics first. Y’know, like how to adapt to living on Earth, how to help and protect our charges from things like physical, mortal danger, amongst other things.”

You drop your bag on the floor and head for the kitchen, thinking of throwing together some bread and cheese for a simple dinner before heading to bed. “Is there like… detailed instructions? On what to do when you get here? Like, how do you know when your job is done?”

Jimin glances at you sheepishly. “I was kinda um… in the middle of all that when I got called down here. By you.”

You sigh through your nose as you fix yourself some tea.

Jimin glances up to see what you’re doing, and he raises an eyebrow in disapproval. “Um, we talked about this, remember? Proper food, please. Saint Gabriel will strike me down from heaven if he sees you’re not eating properly. Bread and cheese is not a proper meal.”

“As if I care about whether you get struck down or not. In fact, maybe he should do that, then maybe you’ll leave me in peace,” you roll your eyes and continue munching. “This is all I have in the house. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m jobless and too poor to live off anything else.”

“What’s your deal, then? Maybe if you tell me what’s your problem, I’ll know how to fix it, then I can get out of your hair,” he says, closing your laptop and sitting upright on the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like I wantto fail my first assignment.”

You turn around to face him, leaning against the counter as you sip your tea. “What do you mean, what’s my deal?”

Jimin gestures vaguely into the air. “You know. What’s wrong with you. Past traumas, present nightmares, all that juicy stuff.”

You actually have to set your cup down on the table before you throw the scalding hot liquid all over that stupid punk’s face. Not that it would actually mortally wound him or whatever, and you’ll just end up with a stained sofa. If it all your problems could be solved by talking about them, then why exactly are you paying good money to your therapist every single month and still living like this? “Hey, okay wait, are all guardian angels as rude as you? I mean, you skipped a part of your training, did some of that training maybe include tips on how to be nice to the person you just so happen to be protecting?”

If Jimin is capable of detecting sarcasm, he doesn’t show it, instead shrugging with an unapologetic look on his face. “No, I don’t think our training includes that.”

Good fucking Lord. He is going to be the death of you.

Thanks to him you’ve picked up a few anger management techniques by now, which including breathing in and out slowly and counting to ten. “If you really want to know,” you begin slowly, feeling your anger seep out of your bones slowly. “I’m just… I’m trying to find a job. Trying to get by. Just trying to find my way.”

Jimin bobs his head in understanding. “Yeah, I gathered that, from my time here. Along with the fact that you are a slob who has terrible living habits.”

“Hey dude, you wanna speak instead?” You fold your arms across your chest, and Jimin holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’ve seen you do some weird stuff, like make that bus appear,” you continue on. “Maybe you could give me a job or something? Nothing too over the top or anything. Just a basic office job would do, preferably with a salary of over-“

“Woah, wait, I can’t do that,” Jimin shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s out of the question. I’m not a genie, you know.”

“Then what can you do? How exactly are you supposed to fix my problems?” You demand, and Jimin glances at you warily, recognising the start of another one of your temper tantrums. “You’ve been here for over three weeks now, and my life isn’t getting better. In fact, it’s getting worse.”

Once again, the words slip out of your mouth without your control, and you briefly close your eyes in regret. Deep down you know that this isn’t Jimin’s fault. You’re just projecting your anger and disappointment on him. The long day has taken a toll on you, and with every single day that passes without an email beginning with the word ‘Congratulations’, you descend further and further into an unrecognisable pit of darkness, journeying deeper into the heart of it with no promise of emerging out the other end.

“It’s just been hard, okay? The waiting, the hoping, everything. It’s always the same old, send in application, either get hopes up when they reply or drive myself crazy waiting for one. And if I get an interview, the days leading up to it are a blur, sometimes I can’t even remember the days passing, but somehow they do.”

Jimin is silent for a moment as he watches you from across the room. Amidst your apartment strewn with books, clothes and plates, cluttered with all of your emotional baggage and shrouded over with hopelessness, he seems to be the one thing that remains untainted by all of this.  The one thing that doesn’t belong. Anyone could see that he is painfully out of place, too pure to be surrounded by all of this filth. He sits there on your sofa surrounded by everything, all the mess and all the clutter, an angel draped in white, here to save you, except neither he or you have any idea how that will happen.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, leaving your cup on the table and shrugging off your jacket as you climb into your bed, the only real sanctuary from the world. “Get the lights, please.”

You close your eyes to shield yourself against the harsh, bright lights on your ceiling. Not a moment later, the lights dim, and darkness surrounds you once again.

*

One would think that handling rejection emails gets easier with time and volume. Meaning, the more you get rejected, the less toll it takes on you. That’s the general theory anyway, but you think it should be the opposite instead. Everything adds up, slowly piles upon your shoulders till you feel like Sisyphus heaving that rock up the hill.

Every morning when you wake up, your first instinct is to check your email for any replies from your applications. Except for weekends, that is, when you get a brief reprieve out of expecting any news.

Today you open your email app and drag down to refresh, your heart jumping into your throat when you see a new email with the subject header of the company you interviewed at three weeks ago. Immediately, it triggers a conditioned response from you as your fingers tremble, sweat breaks out on your forehead and upper lip, and your breath is stuck in your chest. You have to physically force yourself to click on the email to open it, force your eyes to skim over the opening line.

Thank you for taking the time and effort to apply for a position with us. We regret to inform you that…

You stop reading altogether, tossing your phone aside and letting your arm fall to the side with a thump, suddenly feeling as though your limbs weigh a ton. Your stomach roils and it feels like you have to throw up, except you haven’t eaten anything so the best you can do is dry heave. There is a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to do anything but gasp for air, and even if Satan himself were to burst into this room and demand your soul, you don’t think you could move. The disappointment sinks its teeth into your supple flesh and tears, rips you limb from limb and finds a way into your bones, settling deep inside and weighing you down.

Turns out, it isn’t Satan who bursts into the room, it’s Jimin.

“Hey, aren’t you late for your shift? It’s 10am, you should have left 10 minutes ago,” Jimin frowns at you as he stands beside your bed.

From your position under him, you randomly realise that you can see his double chin from this angle. Even such a good looking guy as Jimin has a double chin, you muse to yourself, and the thought distracts you just enough for a faint chuckle to escape your lips. “You have a double chin.”

Jimin draws aside the curtains to let some sunlight in with a wave of his arm, and you moan in protest, turning over and throwing an arm across your eyes.

“Take my fucking soul, dammit. Just fucking possess me already. What’s the worst that can happen…” you mumble into your pillow.

“Get up, you’re going to be late,” Jimin tosses aside the covers to grab your arms, but you can’t feel a single thing as he manhandles you. Despite his slight frame, he is a lot stronger than you give him credit for, and he manages to wrestle your lifeless body into a seating position.

“I can’t, Jimin,” you slip out of his grasp to fall back against your pillow. “I can’t move; I can’t get out of this fucking bed. I don’t want to.”

There must have been something in your voice, because Jimin pauses and gets on his knees to really look at you. Normally he takes everything you say with a pinch of salt because he knows that you can be an utter bitch with a stick up her ass, but something about your voice sounds different, and it makes him hold his breath as he gets a good glimpse of you.

Saint Gabriel once told him that humans were easy to read. Just look into their eyes, for eyes are the window to the soul. Jimin never realised this when he was alive, never thought about how easy it is to read someone else’s mind until he became a guardian angel. More specifically, your guardian angel.

Your eyes are dull, half closed and your cheeks are tear stained. Jimin forces you to make eye contact with him, and what he sees scares him. In place of the galaxy of stars that he associates with your irises is a dark, empty void, eyes that see nothing. In all his time spent with you, he knows your eyes to be the most enthralling part of you, swirling with the cosmos and sucking him into its singularities, and he’d gladly let himself be consumed by them. Who knew a mortal human could have the most enrapturing eyes he’d ever seen, surpassing even the celestial grandeur of Heaven itself? But now they are nothing but a black hole, and panic rises in his throat, because he has to do something, say something dammit-

“Stay with me, please,” he begs, feeling his throat close up in desperation. His words are falling on deaf ears, you don’t seem to register his presence at all as you close your eyes, shutting him out. He calls your name again, louder, but no response.

Jimin’s breath quickens, his mind races through everything he’s ever been told about how to interact with humans, only to come up empty. No training nor words of advice could have prepared him for the utter sense of panic as he watches a tear roll down your cheek, so he does the one thing that he feels is right, guided by an unknown force that manifests itself deep within his soul, having long ago ascended into the hallowed halls of heaven.

Leaning over, Jimin presses his soft plump lips over your closed eyelids, first the right eye, then the left. Saint Gabriel once said that the touch of an angel’s lips held the power to bring about miracles that no man could ever fathom. Jimin desperately hopes and prays that his words hold true now.

There is a faint brush across your eyelids, a warmth that you’ve never felt before, and as they flutter open, you are greeted with the face of an angel; Jimin’s concerned frown that mars the perfect space in between his brows, his soft cheeks and plump lips, the golden caramel of his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You regain your senses and look around, fumbling to sit up and pull yourself out of his grasp. “Why did you kiss me like that?”

“I just… I don’t know,” he admits, wringing his hands together as he watches you retreat from him, press your back into the wall in order to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. His heart, if he even has one anymore, aches in his chest, and regret clogs up his throat. “I’m sorry. I was only trying to help.”

You regard Jimin with a look that is less suspicion and more filled with a strange wonder. This golden haired boy with sweet lips and an ever sweeter gaze. A moment ago it felt as if you were physically unable to move, chained to the bed by an unknown force that threatened to consume you entirely. But now, something feels different. Lighter.

“I… I got rejected,” you say suddenly, sparing a glance at your phone that you threw somewhere on your bed. Saying those words aloud makes adrenaline rush through your system, and for a second it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Saying it aloud makes it all the more real.

But logically, there is no one else in this room to hear it other than you. And Jimin of course, but at this point you still don’t know if he’s real or just a figment of your imagination. So it should be safe. Right? It’ll be like talking to yourself.

“I got rejected from somewhere I really wanted to get into,” you continue on, pretending as if the words don’t feel like a million knives carving at your insides. “And I thought the interview went really well too. But I failed. Again. I lost track of how many times this is. Every time I read those words it’s like… all the energy gets sucked out of my body, and I lie around and I can’t do anything.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment as he regards you with those deep amber eyes, looking so sombre that you almost start to feel ashamed for unloading on him like that. Just as you look away from him in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you internally scold yourself for seeming so weak, Jimin sighs.

“Oh, the places you’ll go,” he says quietly.

“What?” You glance at him, but he only shakes his head and smiles gently, eyes brimming with a sort of amusement as he looks at you. “Where am I going?”

“You don’t know this, but you’re going to go great places,” Jimin says with a sudden conviction you can’t quite pinpoint the source of. “We see it all, we see everything from up there. If you don’t believe in angels, fine. But just believe that there is a place where time exists as a panorama. Meaning that yesterday, today, and tomorrow all happen at the same time. And as someone who came from there, I can tell you: you’re going to great places.”

“H-how are you so sure? Prove it to me,” you demand.

“I’m sure because I see it as clear as day,” Jimin shrugs as if it’s painfully obvious, a smile still on his lips as if your questions are like a child asking why the sky is blue. “You have brains in your head. And feet in your shoes. And you can steer yourself any direction you choose. So why wouldn’t you go to great places?”

Jimin can see that your eyes are still unbelieving. He doesn’t need to convince you right off the bat. Humans, he was told, can be stubborn and dense sometimes. Sometimes, they need a little bit of time to see things that are right in front of them.

“You should get out of bed. And get something to eat,” Jimin says as he tugs at your arm insistently. “After that, take a nice, long shower, change your clothes. Then, you can look at more applications.”

Begrudgingly, seeing as Jimin isn’t likely to leave you alone till you follow his demands, you push yourself to your feet and shuffle to the kitchen, blindly doing whatever he tells you to. But that doesn’t mean you can’t shoot him annoyed looks and grumble all the way. To his credit, Jimin is incredibly patient. He watches as you chew every bite of bread, sip your tea, put everything in the sink. He stands outside your door as you strip and feel the hot water pour down on your skin, singing your nerves a bright pink. When you come out wrapped in a towel, he nods to himself as if giving himself praise for a job well done.

You pull on a random shirt and sit at your computer, taking a deep breath before you wake it up and click over to the job portal. Jimin hovers over your shoulder like an annoying mother hen, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to tell him to go away.

You scroll through pages upon pages of opportunities, none of them catching your eye. Until you reach the third page of listings, and the first one catches your eye.

“That one. Click on that one,” Jimin says, as if he read your mind. You glance at him over your shoulder in mild annoyance; you never liked being told what to do, but you click on it anyway.

The opportunity sounds like your dream job. You fit every single requirement, and reading the job description makes your heart skip a beat in excitement. It’s all you ever wanted to do after graduating from university, but you immediately tamp down your hopes, shut them down before your mind can soar to places that you know are too high for you to actually climb to.

“Are you going to apply?” Jimin’s voice breaks into your thoughts as he plops his head onto your shoulder. “You should. Just give it a shot. What do you have to lose? I have a good feeling about this one.”

“Alright alright…” you grumble under your breath, opening up your Word document to start a cover letter and edit your resume. “I’ll do it. No need to hang over my shoulder like that.”

Your words fall on deaf ears. Along the way Jimin sees it fit to give you pointers here and there, his inputs are annoying, but somehow it makes everything seem less daunting. Like you’re not actually doing this by yourself. Like you have someone rooting for you, someone who’s equally, or more, invested in this than you are.

The mouse hovers over the send button, and you hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t apply. If you don’t try, you’ll never know, but that also means that you can’t be rejected. But before you can change your mind, Jimin’s palm lands on your fingers, and the email whooshes away, out into cyberspace, gone forever.

“Jimin!” You exclaim, frantically searching for the undo button. Except this isn’t Gmail, it’s your Apple Mail. “Oh my god. I didn’t read it through to the end!”

Jimin rolls his eyes as he watches you freak out. “Relax. I read that over, like, a million times while you were sitting there all caught up in your own thoughts. It’s good.”

You continue to sit at your desk for a few moments, wishing you could actually slap his annoying little voice away. Then, you turn around and eye him with an evil smile.

“What? What are you thinking?” Jimin says nervously, shifting from his position all spread out on your sofa.

“You said you take on whatever appearance I desire, right?”

“Yes…” he says cautiously, not liking where this is going one bit.

“Good. I was getting kind of bored of looking at you. How about… this,” you close your eyes for a few moments and delve deep into your imagination. Thank god you still remember all those children’s books from all those years ago. It only takes a second, but even before you open your eyes, you can already hear Jimin’s protests.

You put him in a large green dinosaur hoodie, paint his nose red and give him cute little whiskers to match. His face is beyond irritated, he is crossing his arms and stomping his foot, but he looks way too cute for you to take him seriously. Admittedly, you’re not the greatest artist ever born, but you just wanted to mess up his pretty face a little. Jimin pushes back the hood frantically and gingerly rubs his nose, before he yells in annoyance.

“Put me back! Erase these, THEY’RE A MONSTROSITY! THIS FACE IS TOO CUTE TO BE DESTROYED LIKE THAT!”

“Shut up, or I’ll put you in a crop top and hot pants instead,” you raise your eyebrows in warning, but the intended threat doesn’t work on Jimin.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says with a broad grin as he turns around to show you his ass. Except he’s all too well covered in the oversized onesie. “I’ll need an extra-large for the pants please.”

*

Having Jimin around feels more and more natural as the days go by. He follows you to work at your shift at the convenience store, which is nice because you finally have someone to talk to in order to pass the time. You also work the graveyard shift, which means it’s practically empty all night long, and the walks home are lonely and scary.

“Hey, how do I become a guardian angel?” You ask him one night on the walk home. “I think it’d be cool to get to annoy someone on the pretence of protecting them. Do I have to like check a box when I get to Heaven or something?”

Jimin buries his hands further into the pockets of his onesie as if he’s cold. “No, no such thing. Only very special people get to become guardian angels.”

“Do you have to be especially annoying, or especially ugly?” Teasing him has become a part of your regular routine now, if only to see the cute way his cheeks puff up when he pouts.

Jimin thinks back to the last day he was alive. It was wet, dark, and miserable, and a cold night not unlike this one. Bits and pieces of his memory are scattered here and there, and his temples throb when he tries to piece them together. All he can remember is a horrible screech of tires, and then everything went black.

“You really want to know how guardian angels are chosen?” He turns to look at your side profile, the tip of your nose all red from the cold. “Angels are people who die.”

You hum in consideration. “Yeah, I mean, we all die eventually. But not everyone gets to be a guardian angel, do they? I can’t imagine people like… that old man, the one who came in demanding cigarettes and alcohol. Him as a guardian angel?”

A small smile crosses Jimin’s lips. “You’re right. Not everyone gets to be a guardian angel.”

“Then what’s the criteria? What makes you different from everyone else?”

Jimin stops behind you as you unlock your door, following you into the warm interior of your apartment, and watching as you rub your hands together. “It’s a secret.”

The golden haired angel seems all too secretive about this, so you let it go for the time being, too tired to argue. As you get ready for bed, you notice Jimin standing around uncomfortably in his onesie, trying to fit himself on the sofa that he’s been using as his bed all this time. Sneaking glances at your guardian angel every now and then, it’s painfully obvious that he seems a little more sad and a little more lonely tonight as compared to other nights. His eyes are still the warm caramel that you’ve come to be familiar with, but tonight there is a sprinkling of melancholy that doesn’t sit well with you.

“Hey. You want to… um… share?” You jut your chin out at your own bed. “It’s… it’s big enough for the both of us. And it’s cold tonight.”

His eyes light up immediately, and he grins, his smile almost blinding you. Jimin buries himself into your warm sheets face first, and you lift up the edge of the covers to find him beaming back at you.

“Scoot over, bed hogger,” you grumble under your breath. “You better stay on your side of the bed. I don’t care if you’re a guardian angel or whatever.”

Jimin pretends to whine in disappointment. “But I like cuddling. And why’d you invite me into bed if you don’t want to cuddle? You said it was cold. And I’m cold too.”

“God. Shut up I swear, I’m trying to go to sleep,” you say, turning over to hide the smile on your face.

A few moments pass in silence as you lie there with your eyes open. You can feel Jimin’s weight on the other side of the bed, and strangely enough, it comforts you. Carefully, you turn over onto your back and glance over to his side, only to see his eyes closed peacefully, chest rising and falling slowly. Asleep like this, he looks every bit the golden cherub that he is.

You turn to face him. “Hey, Jimin?”

“Hmmm?”

“When you were… when you were human like me. Did you ever feel like there was a time where you were both alive and dead? At the same time?”

Jimin opens his eyes and turns his head towards you. Your hand is resting on the pillow by your head, and Jimin copies your action, purposely letting his hand brush against yours. When you don’t flinch away, he feels his heart skip a beat. If he was alive, he’s certain it would be racing a million miles a minute.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “Why? Do you feel like that now?”

“Not recently, no.” You feel his hand brush against yours, and with a courage you didn’t know you had, you tentatively curl your fingers around his. “But sometimes there are days where I feel like I’m in limbo. Like I’m just waiting. Where everything and nothing is possible at the same time.”

“I think we all feel like that at one point or another. And it’s hard, but I think… you just need to escape from that place. That place, that waiting place, it’s not for you. You’ll escape from there and find the bright places. The places where you’re meant to be.”

You turn fully onto your side and watch Jimin look at your ceiling as if he’s watching galaxies unfold, shooting stars arching across the plain concrete as if they were amongst a backdrop of a million other stars winking in and out of existence, racing each other across the Milky Way. His side profile has become as familiar to you as the back of your hand. And looking at him brings you a peace of mind, it steadies your heart and steels your determination to keep going.

“What if I don’t know how to get there? To all those bright places where I’m supposed to be?”

Jimin turns to you. “Then I guess that’s my job, isn’t it? To guide you to where you need to be. And to me it feels like you’re almost there.”

You don’t ask how he’s supposed to know either. You don’t ask how he’ll guide you there. You don’t ask when you’ll know if you’re there. All these questions, they’re just white noise when you’re supposed to focus on the cadence of his breathing, the way his hand feels in yours.

And when morning comes and you wake up with your face in Jimin’s chest, you realise that maybe, just maybe, you are the bed hogger after all.

*

“You can do it.” Jimin says as you pause outside the tall building just for a moment. “We practiced this a thousand and one times. You’ll be fine. You got this.”

“Oh my god, leave me alone,” you say under your breath, but you don’t really mean it. Not really. And Jimin knows this, so he sneakily slips his hand into yours and tugs you forward.

Unless you want to look like you just tripped over air, you have no choice but to follow him and Jimin walks into the building confidently. You’d changed him into some black dress pants and white shirt, and you absently think that were he alive, he’d absolutely look like he belonged to this place.

“Wait, just- give me a second,” you try to slip your sweaty palm out of Jimin’s hand as he presses the button for the lift. This is all going way too fast, and you’re not ready for what might be the defining moment of your life. You need just a second more. Just a while more to prepare yourself for what’s ahead.

But Jimin won’t have it. “Come on, if you wait till you’re ready, you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life.”

He tugs you into the lift and presses the correct floor for you. There’s no one else in the lift with you, so you turn to him with an anxious look on your face.

“Do I look okay? Is my hair okay?” You fuss over your appearance, but Jimin only hushes you with his hands on your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You look good. You’re beautiful. Okay?”

“I don’t know, isn’t there something else you can do?” You continue to fret, pacing back and forth inside the tiny elevator. “Tell me what questions are coming out. How to curry favour with the interviewers. What answers they want to hear. Things like that.”

Jimin blows a sigh through his lips as he resorts to pulling you in close for a hug. Your chin rests on his shoulder, his arms around your waist, and feeling his phantom heartbeat against your chest somehow grounds you back to reality. “You don’t need any of that. But if it makes you feel better… why do you think I told you to prepare a childhood anecdote last night?”

“Really?” You draw away from Jimin, and he smiles confidently.

“I’m your guardian angel. I got your back, remember?” He wipes away a smudge of lipstick at the corner of your lips. The doors open at your floor, and he spins around, extending a hand towards the door. “Ladies first.”

You walk out, trying to channel some of Jimin’s confidence. He looks like a supermodel whenever he walks, and that outfit of dress pants that you put him in only accentuates how good looking he is. On your part you can only try to emulate some of his aura as you knock on the door.

Jimin is right beside you as you wait for a response, and at the last minute, he turns you towards him and lands a kiss on your forehead. “For good luck,” Jimin says. “Kid, you’ll move mountains. And you’re off to great places.”

Then the door opens, and you face forward once again.

*

Nights with Jimin bring with them a strange sort of solace that you never knew you needed. He’s immortal and doesn’t have a physical body, so technically he doesn’t need sleep. But when he’s lying beside you he closes his eyes just to go through the motion of it all. But also more so that you can feel comfortable enough to lie beside him.

Jimin feels your eyes on him. You’re watching him with the tiny sliver of space in between the two of you. He doesn’t open his eyes because he doesn’t want to catch you staring, doesn’t want to make you look away.

But on this particular night, he feels your breaths continue to brush against his cheek in a cadence indicative that you’re not yet asleep. It takes you a while to fall asleep normally, but today it seems to be taking even longer. He cracks open his eyes just a tad to see you looking at him, and then he gives up and opens them fully.

“What is it?”

“Hmm?” You meet his eyes as you prop your head on your arm to face him better. “Nothing. I wasn’t staring at you, by the way.”

“You totally were. But beauty is to be appreciated, so you can stare all you want. Just don’t blame me if you wake up all grumpy tomorrow.” Jimin fluffs his hair with a satisfied smile that makes you roll your eyes, fighting back a smile of your own. “Well, grumpier than you usually are, anyway.”

“I just… I don’t want to go to sleep yet.” You inch your hand across the space between you and him, stopping just shy of his chest. “I want to be awake as much as possible now while you’re still here. If there ever comes a time when you’re not here, then I’ll use that time to sleep. So that I won’t miss having you as much.”

Jimin grins so hard that his cheek is squished against his arm that he’s using to prop up his head. “What if I’m always going to be here? Then you won’t go to sleep, ever? I really think you might die from that.”

“I don’t care. Let me be awake just a little more,” you are persistent, and Jimin can only shake his head at your stubbornness, a fond smile across his face. “Let me look at your annoying face just a while more. I need it so I can remind myself just how much I can tolerate.”

Jimin laughs a full bellied laugh that makes him flop back onto the bed onto his back, staring at the ceiling as he folds his arms across his stomach. The movements of his body makes the entire bed shake, and you are not immune to his utter joy. It takes him a full minute or two before he finally calms down again, and all this while you are watching him, your own cheeks aching with the effort it takes to contain your smile. When he turns back to you, his eyes are still dancing with mirth. “You survived all this time from birth till now without me. What makes you think I’m making that much of a difference now?”

“‘Oh, the places you’ll go’, you said,” you quote his own words back to him. “Because of that. That’s all I’m giving you by the way, in case you were fishing for compliments.”

“It’s true, and I wasn’t lying,” Jimin says as he watches your eyes blink wearily. He wants to add on to his sentence, but decides against it when you close your eyes fully and your head sinks back against the pillow.

When your eyes close, Jimin fades from your view. And when you open them again, he’s gone, and you close your eyes to go back to sleep just for a moment, but without a doubt that he’s still there, somewhere, in all the great places that you’re going to go.