#but i'm assuming he got somewhat educated when he was in school

[maochira]

Something I think about a lot regarding fem!Lorenzo is that she probably didn't get her period until Snuffy took her in since that was when her life got better. So she was like 18/19 when she got her period for the first time and they were probably irregular at first as well because her body was still getting used to everything.

I like to think the other Ubers members and Snuffy explained everything to her very well and helped her with stuff like choosing period products. But she was still horrified for a moment when she saw blood because even though she knew about periods and all that, she didn't expect to get hers when it happened for the first time.

[walrus150915]

cw: discussions of nonsexual grooming

There is one thing that has been spinning on my mind ever since I watched the movie. This conversation isn't that popular in the fandom, probably due to its uncomfortable subject matter, but it needs to be discussed. I'll be the one to start

The Director has groomed Ambrosius and it affected him far into adulthood

(A really long analysis post)

Warning: I'm not a psychologist neither am I really educated in this sphere, and I never was a victim of grooming, so don't take my words as 100% truth. However, I'm a literature student, so I can analyse a few scenes and make a conclusion lol

So, to start off, let's share the definition of grooming, shall we?

"Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them."

Now, of course Ambrosius is an adult in the movie, and we can't exactly know his entire history with the Director. So this analysis will take a few things as truth despite them not being confirmed

- the Director has been by Ambrosius's side throughout most of his life. Considering the fact that she's been around even when Ballister was a child, the same can be assumed about Ambrosius

- we as viewers do not see Ambrosius's parents (because this is quite unnecessary to the narrative, maybe we'll see them in a sequel Quane and Bruno were teasing buttt¯\_(ツ)_/¯), and he's been in the Institute since childhood, so it seems like the Director was the most reliable adult in Ambrosius's life

Despite Ambrosius being a grown man, the effect the Director has on him cannot be denied. His relationship to the Director is like half his character arc, the man being torn between his loyalty to the kingdom and his lover

I will take a few scenes from the movie where Ambrosius and the Director interact and try to analyse them

Starting off strong, we've got the "acting like common children" scene. I could point out the obvious bias the Director puts in her words (villainizing an oppressed group of people as a rich white woman in power how nice of her) but we ain't coming to her throat for classism today. Pay attention to her praising Ambrosius and singling him out. "Thankfully, we have a descendant of Gloreth to lead us"

Are other knights happy to be around Ambrosius tho? The answer is no

(Text below is taken from the screenplay. The scene is after Nimona's and Bal's escape)

***

Knights: I knew we never should have trusted Ballister./If Goldenloin hadn't trusted him.../Well, if Goldenloin hadn't helped him...

***

Todd: This is his fault!

Knights: Yeah!/Tell him, Todd!

Goldenloin realizes all eyes are on him

***

I think it wouldn't be wrong to assume Ambrosius's colleagues dislike him at best and outcast him at worst. Compared to Todd, who seems to be the more liked one amongst their peers (bro really is a jock bully high school stereotype in his 20s isn't that embarrassing), Ambrosius is isolated. He doesn't have anybody except Ballister and the Director. And as you all know Ballister and Ambrosius are separated for the most of the movie. So it leaves him with the Director as the closest person to interact with. Yeah...

Also in this scene she displays TWO tactics groomers use to manipulate their victims: isolation and favouritism

Another scene I'd like to pay attention to is Ambrosius's ✨iconic✨ freak out

"What's on your mind, Ambrosius? You can talk to me"

"...I'm fine, Director"

This scene actually left me confused on the first watch because it looks like a perfect moment for the Director to seem at least somewhat sympathetic. It truly seems like she cares about him

Honestly it's pretty hard for me to surely say whether or not she's being sincere or not but her goal is definitely to win over Ambrosius's trust, to make him believe she's a safe person (now that his real safe person is away ajdjdjj). That is also another tactic for groomers to manipulate their victims

And I think it would be fair to mention Director's attitude towards Ballister's and Ambrosius's relationship. It's obvious she knows about them (...not like it's rocket science have you seen these lovebirds) and disapproves. She doesn't outright state it but it's really clear

"Sir Goldenloin, is your loyalty to this Kingdom or to the knight who consorts with a monster?"

Again, amazing case of manipulation. She doesn't say Institute, nor "me" or whatever. She says kingdom. And she clearly knows that it works on Ambrosius, because he is, after all, Gloreth's descendant. Gloreth was the original protector, and Ambrosius is supposed to be the protector now. By choosing Ballister he betrays the kingdom, his bloodline and Gloreth

Now, I know this scene is not Ambrosius & the Director because it's Nimona in disguise but considering how good Nimona was in playing her part we might as well assume real Ambrosius would act the same.

Look at these eyes. He's afraid of her. She has the complete power over him. And Ballister is aware of this (if that's how he told Nimona to act)

Off-topic but I watched Nimona with two of my buddies yesterday and during this scene they both went like "Wait, who is she to Ambrosius again? Is she his mother? Because she acts like she one" and they are so damn right???

Now remember the fact that during one of the interviews Eugene Lee Yang said that the Director is Ambrosius's parental figure. Do with this information whatever you wanna do

I'm still not over her audacity in this scene. Her lip didn't even twitch and she's killing a person whom she praised for his bloodline. Saying "May Gloreth forgive you" while DRIVING A SWORD THROUGH HIM is beyond evil like??? Chill out Nancy Reagan???

I could say that this is the scene that debacles the American model minority myth (with East Asians being put on a pedestal and used to further reinforce white supremacy). A white woman killing an East Asian man while using a Christ-like figure to justify her actions (Gloreth is literally mentioned to be a Christ figure in the art book), and, if we take into account the theory that she wanted to set Ballister up so that it looks like he killed Ambrosius, BLAMING IT ON A BROWN ASIAN MAN was really a choice huh

The Director killed Ambrosius the second he questioned her, the second he wasn't useful to her

And how was he being useful to her? Allow me to introduce you to the scene which made me SUPER uncomfortable once I realized what was going on

During most of the movie Ambrosius acts rather impulsively, reflexes play a big part in his body language. And what does he do? He protects her with his body

"We need to get you to safety!"

Ambrosius was trained in a way that he needed to protect the Director with his body and his life.

Even in scenes where Ambrosius and the Director don't interact you can see how much Ambrosius is brainwashed.

"She manipulated you. She manipulated both of us. But together we'll take her down, you'll be a knight again"

"Thank you. The Director can't-"

"The Director? Oh, no, Bal. I'm talking about your sidekick"

Ambrosius refuses to even think about the effect the Director has on him. He's insisting on Nimona being the manipulator despite him being manipulated

Finally, when Ambrosius realizes something is CLEARLY wrong, he still tries to talk some sense into her

"But what if we're wrong? What if we've always been wrong?"

Despite him being a constant witness to Director's misdeeds he tries to do everything peacefully. Look at his face. This is a face of a man who doesn't want to harm. He gives the Director a chance to improve herself. I think he would forgive her after everything she's done

...but being a conservative she'd rather explode than admit she's wrong. So she attempts to kill Ambrosius again

This, again, says that no matter how much mercy you show to hateful people, they'll continue to be horrible to you. Just because they think they have a right to

Analysing Ambrosius's and the Director's relationship I think it'd be more than valid to state that she has, indeed, groomed Ambrosius to exploit and use him for her own (political and other) benefits. Other knights were brainwashed and groomed too, but something about her attitude towards Ambrosius really bugged me the wrong way

She is an excellent manipulator and Ambrosius fell victim to that, which is no surprise

Thank you for reading this! It took so long to make😭 If you want to add on anything in the reblogs please do, because the discussion HAS to happen at some point

[prettyboybuckley]

30, for buddie please?

hi anon ❤️ thank you for the prompt! exhaustion got to me so it took me a little while to write it, but I hope you like it!

from the soft prompts: ‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’

Eddie never really figured out how to introduce Ana as his girlfriend without feeling awkward. It didn't surprise him at the time, because he'd felt the same about introducing Shannon as his wife, for a long time, at least.

So he'd always assumed that was kind of the norm. That he'd always feel awkward introducing his partner, or that maybe that's how most people feel doing that, even. 

In hindsight, that was a stupid thing to assume, probably.

The point is that when he and Buck start dating - and holy shit, they're actually dating - he expects it to be as awkward as it's always been. Perhaps even more awkward, considering that yes, this is Buck, but he's also never dated a guy before. He's never introduced anyone to his boyfriend before.

(Well, that's not entirely true, but those were all people that already knew Buck. It wasn't so much introducing Buck as it was telling those people that they were dating now.)

And then comes the PTA meeting.

Eddie doesn't particularly like PTA meetings, they are long and boring and half the shit that gets discussed is pretty much trivial. He goes anyway because he cares about his son's education, and it's polite to show his face and interact with the other parents. 

He doesn't expect Buck to see it on the calendar on the fridge, turn to him with a bright but somewhat hesitant smile, and ask: "Can I come with?"

"Yeah, of course," Eddie answers without even having to think about it for too long. It'll be much more fun with Buck by his side. 

The realization that he's going to have to introduce Buck to all these parents - at least the ones that haven't met him before - doesn't cross his mind until they're already getting out of the car in the school parking lot.

It's probably a good thing that it doesn't, or he would’ve been all up in his head about it. As it is, he freezes right there next to the car, watching couples and single parents alike make their way into the school.

"You alright?" Buck's voice sounds, suddenly right next to him. He must have walked around the car while Eddie was lost in thought. Buck's hand slips into his, tangling their fingers together.

"I'm fine, just thinking. C'mon, let's go."

He pulls Buck along to the school entrance, greeting some parents he vaguely recognizes along the way. Once inside, they follow the directions to the gym, and it's only when they're there that Eddie finally pauses. His hand is still wrapped tightly around Buck's, and he has no intention of letting go, but that also means that someone is going to notice.

"Eddie, hi!" someone says, and he turns around too quickly, pulling Buck along and making him stumble a bit. See, there's the awkwardness already. It's Katie's mom, Jennifer, who Eddie has talked to on multiple occasions. He's pretty sure she tried to flirt with him in the beginning, though he isn't sure why she stopped. "I see you've brought someone along this time?"

This is usually where it gets awkward, where Eddie stutters out an introduction and embarrasses himself and his partner in the process.

But this time he follows Jennifer's gaze to look at Buck, and he finds Buck smiling at him, soft and so damn happy, as if there's nowhere he'd rather be than here at this PTA meeting with Eddie, and it's not awkward at all.

"Yeah, this is my boyfriend, Buck," Eddie replies, only taking his eyes off Buck at the end of it, and he pulls Buck a little closer as he smiles at Jennifer. "Figured it wasn't fair that he's only been getting the fun parts of raising a kid now that we finally got our shit together."

He and Jennifer both laugh at the indignant squawk Buck lets out at that, and Eddie only grins wider when he stumbles because of the little shove Buck gives him with his shoulder. It's not as if he's in any danger of falling when they're still holding hands, and as soon as he's stabilized himself again, he's pressed right back along Buck's side.

Buck is grinning, too, when Eddie looks at him, and he allows himself a moment to get lost in his boyfriend's eyes. Turns out that didn't feel awkward at all, it simply felt right.

"Just kidding, we both know you've been helping with the less fun parts all this time, too." He pauses for a moment, then turns back to Jennifer. "Now, Jen, have you heard any good gossip lately?"

Next to him, Buck snorts, and Eddie is going to get teased later for caring about gossip in the first place, but he's pretty sure that his boyfriend listens just as attentively while Jennifer tells them of the rumor she heard about two of the teachers hooking up.

[2darklymelanatedstories]

Distraction (ft GokuBlack)

A request I got from my old blog by @ msbowser.

"Ugh!" You let out an exasperated sigh before letting your head fall onto the books scattered on your desk.

"Stress?",your lover asked as he walked into the room with a mug, of what you assumed was coffee, in his hands.

"Yeah."

You gladly took the hot mug from his hands and smiled when he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

Usually he's been very sweet about you spending your time studying instead of spending it with him. It was odd.

Just two weeks ago he was wrapping his arms around your waist and places distracting kisses all over you. Whenever you'd ask him to stop he'd just reply with something along the lines of, "You know, I could just destroy the school and every other school. I mean who needs education anyway?"

And you'd just shoot him a glare or a questioning look for a while to get him to let go of the topic and leave you be...but not before a bit more cuddling and kisses just because he thought you looked cute when you were annoyed.

Before you could even take a sip of the enchanting nectar of the gods, Black had lifted you off your seat before claiming the chair as his own.

"Hey!" Without sparing you a glance, Black just stared intensely at your papers and books as if he were trying to find the hidden meaning of life.

"Hmm, mmhm. Uh-hu.",he said as he nodded his head. "Interesting."

You couldn't help but smirk. You were about to make another attempt at drinking your coffee that was slowly getting cold but before you could, Goku Black had somehow pulled you down onto his lap on your side so you were somewhat facing him.

"You know I could help with that stress if you'd like.",he said whispered in your ear seductively. You bit your lip but still had enough resistance to roll your eyes at him.

"Black."

He looked at you with a devious smirk on his face.

"Fine." He sighed. "If you had only let me carry on my plans of destroying mankind, then maybe you wouldn't have to deal with all this.",he said as he brushed his hand over your cheek. "Stress, sleepless nights, not to mention you haven't been outside for a while."

"Aw, Black is concerned.",you cooed in a baby voice. "So cute."

"Shut up.",he said but you knew he didn't really mind by the smile on his face.

"Seriously, don't stress about these meaningless mortal tests. You'll do great. I know you will (Y/n). You've never failed before and you won't start now." What he said changed your whole mood as a smile appeared on your face. You were ready to head back to the hell hole of studying just so you could prove him right.

"If you even think of going "awwwww" again, I will–"

He didn't have time to finish that empty threat when you pressed your lips against his. He pulled you closer to him as he deepened the kiss but he soon pulled apart before things could get heated, earning an annoyed groan from you.

He chuckled. "Now dear, I know I'm irresistible but remember you have to put all that energy on studying." He got up off the chair then placed you in it before turning to leave.

"And if things go south–which I doubt they will– then I'll be there to threaten the lives of your professors." He then muttered loud enough for you to hear, "Maybe even kill one."

"Black.",you said in a threatening tone.

He turned to you with his arms behind his back. You held up your mug without even sparing a glance in his direction due to you already giving your studies all of your attention the minute he walked away.

"Make me another coffee. Mine's cold now."

He scowled at the fact that you thought you could order him around. He then smirked as if a lightbulb lit up over his head.

"Of course.",he said as he took the mug from your hands then whispered. "Now I have another excuse to come in here and annoy you."

[myrfing]

my childhood best friend was another chinese kid and we bonded over the fact that our mothers were uh, insane towards us. one time my mom bought me a gift and i guiltily went up to them one day and said "I don't think my mom is as bad as yours" LMFAOOOO. anyway their mother HATED me. I ate dinner with them in their clean upper middle class home twice and maybe the stench of poverty was too evident on me or so I thought whatever. we also lived in a nice house at the time that was rapidly going to shit due to the breakdown of my mom's purely contractual marriage and her gambling addiction and although I'd been trained for two or three years in all the marks of a little upper middle class kid by playing two instruments and chess and whatever, I always just assumed it was obvious that we were fake-rich and that our time here was running short. anyway because this friend was made in the brief period of "success" in which I was imported into the US and could play the role of a well-assimilated educated well-off model chinese immigrant child, because they were one themselves, my grandpa really liked this friend and constantly asked about them. even now during my last visit...I'm 24 now and I had stopped talking to that friend when I was 10, lol. during the 4th and 5th grade my brain started collapsing and I had weird intermittent breakdowns seemingly for no reason that were so baffling to teachers and classmates who'd known me as a pretty bright and competitive child. my hygiene lapsed and i became withdrawn and strange. i lost what credibility i had to be their friend in the eyes of their parents. their mother moved them away when we graduated elementary and forced them to go to a different high school in which 90% of our peers did not go to in what was perhaps a purposeful attempt to separate them from my bad influence, and it worked.

anyway during that last time he asked I mentioned to my grandpa "x's mother did not like me" and he laughed and said "no, their mom didn't like YOUR mom". and i immediately shot back that "if you dislike my mom, you dislike me" which is one of those things you say and you mean it but is still weird and loaded to think about afterwards. i mean, I dislike my mom, friends who are acquainted with tidbits of my childhood dislike my mom, and they treat me with love and respect. but it's different from the way he dislikes my mom and my friend's mother disliked my mom in which they see her as a failure of a human being long before she had even done anything incriminating, or before they had known about it. they saw her threadbare clothes and her poor health and her broken english and awkward mannerisms, her evident discomfort in suburbia, they asked her about her job and got an answer that was suspect to them, and they immediately branded her as someone unworthy of respect. it's obvious that she's a poor, somewhat "trashy", broken person, and the immediate assumption is made that she had just foolishly chosen wrong in life and deserved every bad thing that happened to her. but the thing is I think all those things are obvious in me too and of all the things I probably inherited from her, these elements I judge the least and find the greatest connection in with her. it's weird to have people from the outside judge these parts of her and say "you are better than your worthless mom" when in the regard they speak of, I'm not

[cricketwrangler]

My little brother is autistic and 16 now, probably 6 feet tall at this point, and he's already faced so much discrimination from people (teachers and school staff mostly) acting like he's malicious and out of control. When he doesn't have a mean bone in his body, he very clearly doesn't understand why some things are wrong to do, has meltdowns sometimes and other behaviors pretty typical for an autistic kid. Honestly nothing particularly extreme even. The things these people (who teach special education by treating the kids like they don't have disabilities I guess??) say and do are appalling and absurd. I remember the principal accusing him of "lying" when questioned about something and it's like. Dude he'll tell you if he farted. He's not gonna lie on purpose.

Thankfully now that he's at the highschool where the program is a lot better and the teachers a lot better--and can do this til he's 21 I believe? Maybe longer--things have been so much better for him. I still worry because it's a huge school and I know what the cops are like there.

It's also jarring to think how black kids in his situation probably get treated though. The demographics have usually been about 50-50 white vs not white in that district, and the structural differences are notable--I had at least somewhat majority of white people as classmates when I started out in excel/advanced programs and classes. When I had enough school problems I took the regular classes for some subjects, at least 75 percent of those classes were probably black. When I got in school suspension I was probably the only white kid in there, and most of the others were not there for the first time. I remember the guy in charge of supervising talking to a lot of them about options outside of graduating high school.

I got threatened with getting sent to the alternative school (because they don't expel!) If I skipped classes after getting out of school suspended. And they kept trying to convince my parents and see if they could force Ian to go there--things were bad enough we were honestly considering seeing if the classes and staff were better there, actually, but were worried he wouldn't be able to come back when he was in highschool for the program he's in now. He had to do an outside ABA program primarily meant for kids much younger than them--and don't get me started on ABA, but the fact that the school staff were shocked at the idea of rewarding but not punishing kids there was just. Wow. I know the vast majority of those sent to the alternative school are black so I'm gonna assume most are not given the alternative option.

Like man I guess my point is like. Not to take away from how black children are demonized and treated like they're not children. But it's scary how easily disabled kids in general have that happen. I don't really know how I'd handle it if Ian were physically hurt as discipline. Just imagining a kid not knowing what's going on or why it's happening, and their responses being treated as further aggression. And it's so absurdly hard to find anyone on their side in these situations.

[spacedustpan]

Before I get into this please know that I am saying this gently. I'm not trying to shame anyone here.

There is no Standard American Secondary School Curriculum for American Public Schools.

What is taught and tested varies from state to state.

"Authority to regulate education resides constitutionally with the individual states, with direct authority of the U.S. Congress and the federal U.S. Department of Education being limited to regulation and enforcement of federal constitutional rights. "

" The U.S. government may also propose, but cannot enforce national goals, objectives and standards, which generally lie beyond its jurisdiction. "

My friends in neighboring states and I would bitch and moan about Standardized Testing and we all learned fairly quickly after asking at school that our states had wildly different education requirements.

The differences in curriculum between states has also been a focus in most major news outlets for the past 3 years due to MAJOR differences in curriculum regarding Slavery, The Civil War, and things like discussion of Gender and Sexuality in Southern States versus other states.

I personally was taught very little about the Vietnam War. I memorized the start and end date the reason for the conflict and got some personal anecdotes from my teacher about his family that was in the war, but it wasn't a focus for Standardized Testing.

So it wasn't a focus for the class teachings or the review.

The teacher gave it more time than he was technically supposed to because he personally cared about it.

But he had a very Pro War Anti Hippie stance on it.

He didn't mention Kent State.

I'm sure you can understand how that would shape my class's perception somewhat.

I personally learned about Kent State while watching the movie Nixon when I was bored out of my mind one summer and my parents were watching it.

Otherwise I wouldn't have learned about it.

My family and friends didn't listen to Niel Young when I was younger and my tastes lean more towards EDM and Pop so I haven't heard that song before.

On top of that, not everyone picks out the lyrics of songs that they hear snipets of while shopping at the grocery store or while watching a movie. Sometimes people just hear background music as Pleasant Background Noise. Or they hear the melody but not the lyrics.

There's a lot of universality assumed that just is not true.

I understand someone being frustrated if they and another person went to the same high school and their state teaches a topic in detail and they know for a fact that they were both absolutely taught the information. That would be very annoying to hear from someone at that point.

But being frustrated with random internet strangers because of an assumption that every american high school teaches what you were taught the way that you were taught it is uncharitable.

If you're reading this and also previously thought that all high schools in the US have some overarching requirements for curriculum -especially regarding history- it's not your fault.

We are all Today Years Old at some point in our lives and we all have gaps in our knowledge determined by our learning environments.

This is also not the first or last time this conversation will take place on tumblr dot com. 🌈

I will say thanks for the song reccomendation though! 👍 I'll give Neil Young's "Ohio" a listen. sounds like it'll be a good listen that goes hard judging by that snippet of lyrics I used to Google it just now.

there is a post going around like THE GOVERNMENT DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW ABOUT KENT STATE and I am sorry but if you are an adult American with a high school degree and don't know about Kent State I'm afraid that's on you. There is a Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young song about it and they play it on your average oldies station like twice a day.

[arsnovacadenza]

[Nobunaga x Kicho] cause everything you heard is true

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Characters: Kichou, Mitsunari, Nobunaga (mentioned)

Pairing: Nobunaga x Kichou (pre-slash)

Warning: crossdressing (reference), Nobunaga's past relationship with a female OC

Part of the Different Universe, Same Love challenge by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

Day 1 - June 13th - Modern AU | Historical AU (it's the 60s!)

"I suppose that's all you need to know about the tenure. Now, let's take a look at the boy's schedule," Mitsunari paused, quickly glancing her way to see if she was following. "Um, Saitou-san?"

"I'm listening," the woman said, looking at the accountant with hawk-like eyes. Mitsunari wished she'd lower her sunglasses from their perch on her perfectly-coifed hair. Miss Saitou constantly looked like she was a second away from turning him into a stone or devouring him alive.

Mitsunari gulped under the scrutiny and turned his attention back to the timetable on the desk. "So, as you can see, Young Master Nobutada is quite the sportsman, partaking in rugby and kendo after school —not at the same time, definitely. Young Master Nobukatsu is the quieter one. He's part of the science club though he's more adept at taking care of lab rats than actual science-ing —wait, you didn't hear that from me— so they've got quite the busy schedule. I know they should be playing with other kids their age, that's what people often say, but I guess that's how it is with rich families."

"Tell me about it," the woman quipped.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean," Saitou smiled perfunctorily. "Despite the rumors, it's obvious that Oda-san thinks about the education of his sons a great deal. He may be a philanderer, but I guess most parents are the same. They want the best for their children, do they not?"

Mitsunari forced a nervous laugh. "I agree."

He could now see why his boss selected Kichou Saitou out of all the candidates to be his sons' private tutor. And not just because of her head-turning looks, either. The 'professional governess' was a statuesque stunner with skin as pale as bisque and midnight-dark hair that gave balance to her (unusually) broad shoulders. It could've perfectly framed her long neck if it weren't for the ivory brand-name vintage scarf wrapped around it. Her dress stopped at a length Mitsunari's folks at home would consider obscene, but that was the ensemble that only the most fashionable young women would walk around Ginza in. The lime dress perfectly accentuated the irresistible cinch of her lean waist, a trait irresistible to men (but especially Master Nobunaga). 

"This is quite the timetable. The previous Madam Oda must have gone to great lengths to ensure their boys get to class from home and back. I've heard they're quite the, ahem, restless bunch, especially Young Master Nobutada," Kichou tucked her thick hair behind an ear. "I assume she had a personal assistant to help watch over the boys?"

"I'm afraid that's where you will come in, Saitou-san," Mitsunari smiled somewhat apologetically. "Master Nobunaga wanted someone to watch over the masters round the clock. Maybe not a babysitter, but a private tutor-slash-personal assistant for the boys, if that makes sense?"

And maybe just a companion, if asking for another mother figure is too much, Mitsunari thought. After all, the aftermath of the split was rough to deal with for the young masters, let alone for Master Nobunaga himself.

Saitou didn't seem fazed with all of the information, though. She must have heard about the divorce, too, Mitsunari guessed. It's all over the papers.

"Shall we move on, then?" he offered. "We should be able to wrap this up before lunch."

........

When it was over, Ishida offered Kichou a tall glass of iced tea, fumbling around like a butler instead of the family accountant. Kichou was initially supposed to be meeting with Oda's secretary, a strapping older man named Toyotomi. Kichou begrudgingly accepted the drink, wishing he was back home and taking a long drag on his cigarette. But a job was a job, and he's set to get it done come hell or high water.

At least it was cool out on the patio. Kichou had seen very few houses with private pools instead of the usual koi-pond with cedar trees and an arching lacquered bridge. After all, Oda had always been a rule-breaker —his philandering ways almost as notorious as his entrepreneurial successes. As he'd read from the files, the abode had felt a woman's touch not too long ago, that bimbo Ikuno or Ikoma. Really, Mizusaki was better suited for this mission. She had the long thick hair, the doe-eyes, and the schoolgirl smile that most men would die for. A seemingly sweet, pretty little thing that Oda would easily win over and protect in this fort of a mansion for a very, very long time. And not a challenge he'd stubbornly conquer and lose in a blink. 

And still it wasn't enough for Oda to keep Nou around. Kicho frowned, away from view. A lesson learned for her, definitely. But one for him too, by the end of this.

Just then, a (real) butler came in to approach Mitsunari. "Ah, right on cue. Master Nobunaga has just arrived, and he's inviting you to come eat lunch with us, Saitou-san! Shall we?" The accountant called out.

Kichou smirked. Ah, speak of the devil. "Sure," she smiled sweetly, pearly teeth peeking between coral-painted lips. 

This house of cards was about to fall down, king and all.

......

Coincidentally, it's also pride month, so....happy belated pride month?

Sorry for the late submission. And I didn't make it long because this was supposed to be a precursor to my bigger 60s AU.

Tagging @weird-konpeito and @ashavazesa

[butterfly-winx]

I'm not sure if you've already answered this but could u talk about everyone's first experiences with magic?

No I haven’t and I can’t claim I have thought about it long enough to have rock hard hc, but it’s a fun prompt anon, so here we go:

Bloom:

Aside from being protected from the flames of the house burning around her as a baby, Bloom’s first conscious brush with magic was actually using her innate aspect. She has always been a sensitive kid and everybody assumed it was just some form of hyperempathy when she talked about other people’s feelings with high accuracy. But when she categorised people into colours depending on their auras, she meant it. Then as sensitive weird kids be, Bloom was picked on a lot in late primary and middle school and that’s when her temper started to show. Bloom got angry easily and it only riled up the other children more to get her to show a reaction. Before that it was mostly tears, but one memorable occasion Bloom’s control over temperature manifested with her burst of anger and she made everyone and herself develop a sudden high fever. She fainted from it unfortunately and spent the next two years transfixed by all sources of fire and flames eventually circling back on her obsession with fairies and all things magic. The older she got the less she paid attention to the colourful auras until they completely faded from her everyday sight and only cropped up when she herself felt her emotion in a disarray. As Bloom got older, other magic effects started to crop up with higher frequency, like her “magically” avoiding injuries or recovering from them super fast, or never getting burned on hot pots as the Dragonflame started to feel cramped unused in her body. When Stella was being threatened by the goblins and the ogre, Bloom’s fight or flight instincts automatically allowed the Dragonflame an outlet. (She then of course followed Stella down a rabbit hole of an adventure and got a place in Alfea due to her new friend’s quick thinking and forgery)

Stella:

With two proficient magic users as parents Stella was practically hounded over as adults in her life anxiously waited for her to show signs of magic. She went through magic prep courses trying her hardest to please everyone who was so important to her. She wanted to be magic so bad, always afraid of that infinitesimal chance that she didn’t get all the right genes from her parents. At age seven she was kind of a late bloomer for fully magic children to yet show any sign of magic sensitivity, and she spent another short holiday with her mother’s family up north. it was Stella’s favourite pastime to wander as close to the edge of the estate as she dared to alone in the constant twilight of the Solarian pole. Her favourite spot was a little cropping of shrubs populated by lighting bugs that always flocked to her when she came by. The loved collecting the shiny rocks as well that lit up at her touch and create her own little sun filled garden in the back where no one would bother her for hours. In retrospect Stella can tell exactly why she hasn’t come forward with all of these light related oddities, wanting to keep her island of peace to herself, but back then baby Stella really just didn’t clock that this could be related to her magic aspect. Her grandma eventually noticed and eased her into the thought that yes, she was definitely magic. After that the expectations were laid on even thicker instead of getting easier to bear as Stella got instructions at school and from both of her parents after school. Luna was very helpful with first developing Stella’s magic, so Stella actually started off with a stronger focus on her moon based powers. Radius with his control over bright skies was not very useful and Stella soon started feeling guilty over that and took up sun focused spells and fey magic explicitly to please her father. Radius would have loved her no matter what, but Stella’s insecurities were early risers and she felt the need to please others, so she was more than happy to follow his footsteps and enrol off planet in Alfea, his alma mater.

Musa:

She was equally under observation, only because she is mixed (human-elven) and it was unclear which type her magic would manifest as. Maylin herself a magic using elf would have loved to teach her daughter all she knew, but there was of course always room for her to chose a human stream, should she take after her human father more. That Musa was magic sensitive was a well known fact ever since she was a baby and was able to produce... quite a cry. Maylin was lovingly warned that her daughter was likely to be a musical type along with a gift of full sound-blocking earbuds. At age six Musa could remember the melodies of over 300 pieces of music of ranging complexity, regularly got birds to sing for her and had impeccable hearing - all in all she showed signs of having a promising future as a magic user. For her to be gifted with skills in music that brought Maylin and HaoBai together was a blessing from the Heavens. Then Maylin died and Musa and her father’s world shattered with her. Grief can have complicated effects on one’s magic, and Musa age 9, appeared with dried up magic meridians like she was a l 90 year old. It took a lot of family counselling and well timed teenage rebellion for her to pick up music and with that magic again. And it was hard work, let her tell you that. Both letting magic inot her and developing a feeling for it and doing it all while hiding from her father, afraid he’d want to ban her music and snap instruments again (it happened once, and HaoBai isn’t proud of how much the pain of loss had consimed him at that moment). At fifteen she finally had enough and decided to go head first for it, insisting her half-orphan “recompensation fund” to be used as tuition at Alfea College for fairies, despite never having received any magic prep education. Through brute force, luck and insane talent Musa aced all entrance examinations and made it despite it all.

Techna:

As childbirth on Zenith is, it was completely up in the air whether Techna would be magic or not.  All the early childhood signs Techna showed for their aspect were at first more or less mis-categorised as autism (which they absolutely have, but them going through technical books detailing the technological systems of ancient civilisations daily wasn’t just that). The first one suspecting they have magic was actually Techna’s elder sister, Electra. Electra five years older than Techna was very into the idea of a baby sister and loved smushing and cuddling Techna, which Techan absolutely hated and kept giving Electra static shocks out of nowhere. Once Electra understood where static came from and identified that there was absolutely nothing charged around Techna when they did that, she became suspicions. The whole family found out when during dinner, Techna announced in the calmest voice possible that they have heard the car talk and it told Techna exactly what was wrong with it setting an end to their parents tense discussion about the car having issues. The car was sent for repairs, confirming what Techna had  said and Techna was taken for a magic sensitivity test having that confirmed. (Baby Techna like: oh yeah I could always hear machines they just usually don’t have anything worthwhile to say). She wasn’t quite five at this point. Magic isn’t as widely practiced on Zenith and it took Techna’s ranerts a while to find a magic prep school for them to attend after school, which ended up being outside the borders of Transjordan actually. The daily drive was very long and exhausting both for teen Techna and the parent of the day who had to drive them, so they started talking about sending Techna to a boarding school once they were old enough. Techha was left to do their own research and they realised they had quite many options, even with just narrowing it down to fey magic that were closer to home than Magics, but they all advertised themselves as “girls’ colleges” and even pre-gender realisation that just irked Techan for an inexplicable reason. They much preferred going to a coed school, so Alfea ended up as their first choice on the application form.

Layla:

In Layla’s case, detecting her magic sensitivity was incredibly difficult, seeing as she grew up practically constantly submerged in water playing with her cousins by the shore. Androsi people naturally have a large lung capacity and are able to dive long. That Layla dried super fast afterwards and never got salt rashes was also brushed under the rug ascribed to good royal hygiene and skin care. When she started being schooled in the castle Layla was colossally bored. She received basic magic training just because, no one actually expected her to be magic since they believed she didn’t show any sensitivity for it, and kind of for shits and giggles Layla took it and ran with it. Layla discovered privately in tidal caves just what a mistake that was able to make the water be kind to her and mold and move just so she could always get out unharmed. She surprised everyone at age eleven when during a banquet the visiting princeling was annoying her just so much, she used her water magic to turn his strictly pomaded hair into a bird’s nest, overshooting and drenching the next three dignitaries around him as well. The party stopped. At first Layla though she was going to get into so much trouble, caught under the strict eyes of her father, but as it turns out, he was overjoyed. Layla was put on a fast track for learning magic and surprised people once again choosing fey magic and being able to transform at the tender age of 13. She was never sent to Alfea, but received the offer from Faragonda after the Darkar incident thinking Layla could easily make it to Enchantix (which she did, this girl is talented).

Flora:

Both of Flora’s parents are untrained magic users, so her being somewhat sensitive at least was also expected. Flora loved sitting to the side watching her father run the potion shop when she wasn’t chasing all her other parental figures and watching what they were doing with curious eyes. She loved it when her aunti Nimali gave her bumps and scrapes a little kiss so she started doing that to all sorts of things including her father’s ingredient plants. He was indulging her harmless kid fantasy, knowing full well that most of his magic plants responded to emotions like they had a soul and was more than surprised when he found these plants not only healed but sprouting wildly whenever Flora gave them a small “get well smooch”. The village talked it all over and Flora was given over to the local magic users to train with and shadow what they were doing. Her interest in potion making however prevailed and by the time she emerged from Nature’s Teaching Path having singlehandedly ran the little children’s colony it was very clear that Flora would need to receive proper training from a proper institution. She was just too good at magic for her family to fail her not being able to offer her more knowledge. Flora wanted magic with frankly for her startling greed and ambition, but she hated the idea of moving away. She could have just gone to Woodland College like most other magic users, but even there the entrance exam examiner was suggesting the school was too small for her. (And Flora kind of felt that - she overthought the whole exam because it was just so simple, she just had to touch the plant, and will the box to float. Her aspect of plant growth might not have given her complete control over the environment, but she was still a lot better than her peers.) The teacher spoke to the Council about the potential of sending Flora off planet and now that had her attention and full investment in doing everything the Council demanded to get her a visa to study in Magics.

Out of the six Layla and Techna were able to transform already before they came to Alfea, Flora and Stella had unstable first attempts (Stella during her own first year that is, not her re-run), while Bloom and Musa were the only ones who fully had to learn it from scratch during their first year.

Stella and Layla pay their tuition from royal funds, Flora is Lynphean Council sponsored and Bloom after the first year paid from Callisto’s royal fund (oops) is on a Magics scholarship for minority cultures as a surviving Dominian. Techna benefits from Transjordan’s education scheme which gives students a basic income, their parents supplement the small remainder, while Musa is 100% self sponsored from aforementioned widower’s trust fund they got after Maylin’s passing.

[llithiaskyla]

@patricks-pet-rock ask and you shall receive 😘

SIGNIFICANTLY more lore under the cut because i have no self control but trigger warning for talk of WW2, starvation, child trafficking, murder/suicide, mutant discrimination, and heavily implied sexual assault 🙁

I've seen extremely little on Greece's part in ww2 as an american, and so i tell almost everyone that asks about him about it

Athan (like previously stated) grew up in Greece during WW2, where the main issues of the country at the time were starvation, the nazi occupation, and.. trafficking..

Athan was raised by his father, a horrible person who agreed with Hitler and his anti-Semitism, and unfortunately was a major contributer to the child trafficking issue in Greece at the time.

It made a decent amount of money, so Athan was one of the few children who weren't starving, but he started to be sold out by his father when he was around 6, due to his looks.

Athan's mutation developed when he was sold for the night, he didn't exactly know what was happening and so he told the man to get out of his room.

Athan's mutation is a vocal manipulation mutation, and he is rated as an alpha class mutant, due to his mutation being extremely powerful, but it can be limited.

(Tell me if I'm wrong for this rating, because he doesn't exactly have any physical drawbacks at all, but he is easily stopped if you cut off his way of speaking without getting commanded to stop in the process)

He managed to get out of it for almost a month straight, by (unknowingly) commanding the people to leave. He didn't know what he was doing, both being young and thinking that they just left when he asked nicely.

When his father found out that he was telling people to leave, and that his clients didn't get what they were paying for, he got a wittle pissy, and long not very nice story short, Athan grew up muzzled

Athan's sister was born to a different mother when Athan was about to turn 18, and his escape plan was thrown on it's head due to her mother dying when she gave birth.

His sisters name is Amalthea, and he basically took over babysitting her, which helped later when he ran off to the states.

Athan snapped when his father made a comment on his sister, something about how he has more 'merchandise' now that she was born.

He took advantage of the fact that he could speak, and, quite literally, told his father to kill himself. he had more than enough intent and power behind it, that his father didn't even so much as question it, shooting himself in the head with the gun in his drawer.

Athan fled to the United States after this, manipulating (literally) his way on to planes and simply telling people that he had a ticket, papers, etc. he passed his sister off as his daughter for a while, and never really refuted it when people assumed.

He stole for a while after moving to the states, having quite literally no education or documents, he couldn't get a job. eventually, he needed a place to stay, BAD, so he used his power to have them forged, and he (guiltily,) manipulated his way into getting a job at the local mechanics shop.

it payed well enough for Athan to get a home somewhat close, and he lived there with his sister until it was burned down (mentioned later)

Erik and Charles found him and his sister through Cerebro when Athan was around his early twenties, and when his sister was still little.

He vehemently refused their first offers, not willing to leave the life that he had built for him and his sister in the slightest. they accepted this for the most part, and Charles left him his information in case he ever wanted to join in the future, etc.

And would you look at that, he did 😭

Athan's house was burned down due to a pre-planned attack. His sister, Amalthea, developed her mutation when she was in school, a power similar to Athan's. She forced people's attention onto her when she sang, and they fall unconscious after a little while. It developed in the middle of her choir concert, and she took half of the crowd out (thankfully unincluding Athan) before the concert stopped.

Athan, at the very least, realized what had happened, and got them both out of there before either of them could be attacked as people started realizing she was a mutant.

They were (unfortunately, again,) followed home, and some supremacist decided that they needed to, well, be exterminated or whatever rhetoric they wanted to use.

This one isn't some fancy thing, the fire alarm saved them, and they got out safely with the dogs (yes they have dogs, around 4 pitbulls that Athan found on the side of the road from the same litter), the firemen handling the rest.

The house wasn't saveable, and Athan literally didn't have any choice beside seeing if Charles was still doing the school.

This was before dofp, so he was still in his little funk (depression) when Athan showed up. Charles let him in anyways, along with the dogs (hesitantly), and Athan was there when Logan showed. he didn't help with the jailbreak, no matter what they said, and he met Erik once (1) time before deciding he didn't like him very much, despite Erik appreciating the fact that they had similar beliefs.

Athan was mostly along the sidelines for a lot of the rest of the x men lore, because he not only refuses to use his powers to hurt other people, but because he's only partially verbal and more than a little bit traumatized 😘

he's got a kid to raise alright

he is definitely a teacher in the school, specifically foreign language and mythology. He offers a few languages, because he ends up being able to speak quite a few of them (people can only be influenced by his mutation if they understand what he's saying) (greek, english, german, french, spanish, and he dips his toes in russian and really wants to learn arabic)

i feel the need to mention that he and Hank have a several year long fling that lasts for a hot minute, but Athan doesn't think he could handle a relationship like Hank wants, so they amicably go their separate ways. They're actually still good friends, i swear 🙏

Athan is also semi verbal (is that the correct word usage) for a long while, only talking to his sister and eventually Hank and Charles. He signed a lot, and had the tendency to have verbal shutdowns (nonverbal??) whenever he got particularly upset. He worked through it in order to teach, thankfully, and is a really good person to talk to if you have a more subtle mutation that is looked down upon (mind control, telepathy, invisible ones that are viewed as bad/invasive despite not being able to control it just as much as the physical mutations)

chat if youve gotten this far pls tell me if i made any sense at ALL and please do educate me if i made a mistake im so open to constructive criticism

guys do u like my x men oc say yes (lore + closeup under the cut)

Athanasius Constantine, 19 and freshly immigrated to the US 😘

He was born around the same time as Erik, before WW2, and, (unfortunately) lived through it as a child. (take from this what you will, greece was an awful place to be at the time)

He lived in Greece at the time, and moved with his infant sister to the US when he turned 18 after killing his father 😜

There's so much more but during first class he's one of the mutants that they scout, or at least try to, because Athan doesn't take them up on the offer until a few years before days of future past

guess what the scar is from and you'll get a fat juicy kiss (..sorry)

[iwriteficsandmore]

Mindful Education

Finally. Sorry it took so long but here’s that fluff I promised. Hope you like it, anon :D But anyway this is also to commemorate Hawks’ Birthday! Yay! It’s different from my birthday piece last year but I still liked how it turned out :)

|Alright. Meet me tomorrow at 9am at the station.|

Hawks reread the text on his phone for the tenth time as he patiently waited at said location for ten minutes now. It wasn't yet time for your meeting with him but he had wanted to get there early to mentally prepare himself. You two had been dating for the better part of six months. Much longer than he expected any relationship with anybody to last. But he knew there was something different about you. It was why he had been so adamant despite your obvious disinterest at first. Sure, he might've come off as a tad bit overbearing but it was only because he was interested about what he saw in you that he couldn't quite describe. 

You weren't big on dates. Neither was he for that matter since there was no such thing as privacy in his life. But he knew you enjoyed spending time together no matter where that might be. So after months of trying to convince you, you finally accepted with one condition: you chose where you would go, no questions asked. He complied if only for the opportunity. Needless to say, he was somewhat anxious about what you had in store for the day. 

I just hope it's not where people will bother us too much.

"Big Bird!" 

The sound of your voice calling out to him made Hawks spin on his heels to meet your gaze as you caught up to him. He stared for a good minute as you caught your breath. Seldom did you two see each other outside of work and seeing you now in normal clothes took him aback. 

You looked adorable in that summer dress. Even more so with how cute you looked with that little scowl while calling him that name—whoops.

"My bad," he chuckled, "I wasn't paying attention."

"Obviously." You don't regard that as anything unusual. He always seemed to daydream in front of you. It made getting him to do his work all that much harder but at least he wasn't an awful boss and boyfriend aside from that. Losing the edge from an awful morning, you give him a small smile before pointing towards the station. "Come on, our train is leaving soon."

The two of you boarded the train. Hawks noted the stations it would hit and wondered which one would be your stop as you took a seat beside each other in a mostly empty car. You said little of where you were headed even now. All you told him was that it was a place you frequented and that you enjoyed being at very much. That was enough for him for the duration of the train ride. It got him to wonder just what kind of place it was that made you wear such a loving smile.  

Of everything that he had come up with, this was certainly not even on the list. "Y/n-sensei!" 

"Hello, everybody!"

All the preschoolers rushed your way the moment you entered the door, the faster ones clinging to your skirts and legs and the rest clamoring around you for attention. Hawks stared with mouth agape as all of them—he counted at least...30!?—bombarded you with questions that you patiently answered. Hawks couldn't help but stand stiffly when one of them, a little blonde girl with huge green eyes, spotted him. They stared at each other, one curiously and the other quite awkwardly for what seemed the longest time. 

Finally, she grinned and pointed enthusiastically at him. "Birdy!"

Almost like a war cry, the rest of the children turned together and burst into shouts and laughter as they rushed to Hawks. Some appeared to recognize him while others simply were interested in the new face that had 'pretty wings.' Looking up, he couldn't help feeling used when you simply chuckle mischievously before sauntering off to meet with who he assumed was the actual person in charge of the bunch of children. She was an older lady. One that seemed to readily recognize you when you came to her. 

"Ah, darling. It's so nice to see you again."

"Glad to be back, Yui-san."

"And you brought your friend—everybody! How do we introduce ourselves to a new friend?" With a clap of her hands, the children dispersed like well trained animals to give themselves space as they bowed a little and chorused a 'it's very nice to meet you!'. Pleasantries over with, she readily instructed the children to go prepare for morning activities. They did so after a grand chorused 'awe' and scattered out into the adjacent room where another, younger, teacher waited for them. Turning to Hawks, Yui smiled tenderly. 

"Welcome to our little school. I'm Yui, the director."

"N-Nice to meet you. I'm—" The small laughter from the old woman made Hawks stop midsentence. 

"I know who you are, young man. It's not everyday that a hero comes to visit us, much less the No.2 hero in Japan. But that’s alright, y/n told us beforehand you would come."

Hawks eyed you briefly before the other teacher called out to the director. The moment you two were left by yourselves, his amber eyes gave you a sidelong glance and a raised eyebrow that you replied to with a sweet smile. 

"This is your idea of a date?"

"It's my idea of a good time. And at least the ones who'll bother us here won't do so with ill intentions."

Touché. Setting that aside for the time being, you took him around on a tour of the small building that made up the school. For once, Hawks listened intently to what you said. You liked coming here and helping around once a week when time permitted it. You knew both the director and the rest of the staff personally and you came often to give music appreciation classes. You chuckled at the thought of that. "I call them classes but it's really nothing more than me playing and singing in front of the kids and them singing along with me."

"Sounds amazing to me," he replied sincerely.

"It really is," you said. "You'll get to see it this afternoon. But until then!" 

To say that he wasn't confused and taken aback by all the stuff that you got him to do would be an understatement. While you were a natural with the children that you saw on a weekly basis, Hawks couldn't say that he had that kind of expertise. For all that he did outside with the citizens and media, he was somewhat puzzled as to how to act with children that expected nothing of him except for him to play with them. They were as ecstatic about his presence as he was baffled by theirs. You lasted a half an hour laughing on the sidelines while watching him struggle until you came to help with the tough crowd he'd gathered. 

When one of the kids tugged at your skirts—the same one that had been bugging him about getting airplined around for the fifteenth time—you bent to his height before lifting him up in yours arms. The boy giggled before he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. Once he was done, you placed him down. Unlike how he acted with Hawks, the boy trotted off to play elsewhere, satisfied with the pick up. 

"How do you do this?" he asked tiredly, his wings drooping dejectedly.  

"It took some getting used to," you assured him as you helped a few girls tie together flower crowns before leaving them to run around the playground. "First thing I learned about was boundaries." "Boundaries?"

You nod and step back behind him. Hawks barely had time to follow you with his gaze when he felt the prick that came from your plucking one of his smaller feathers from one of his wings. With a teasing smile, you brushed it against your lips with a giggle from his reaction. Bending down to help one of the boys, you place it on the band he wore around his head to help with his costume as they played heroes. They thanked you before dashing past the two of you without a bother.

"They have their needs, mentally and physically, and I help them meet them. But I can't give them all the answers. If all I do is give them what they want, they'll grow spoiled without understanding what it means to grow and learn. I listen to them, work with them, and keep my distance when I have to." Rolling your eyes, you glance at Hawks as he stands beside you, "It's a little like how heroes work with interns to teach them the ropes."

"Well, maybe that's the problem," he pointed out. "I don't take interns in my office."

"Well, maybe you should give it a try." 

There wasn't much time for Hawks to rest. You made him help out during the daily activities and lessons which though not hard were draining in a whole different sense. 

Children made him feel awkward. You could tell at least that much from the way he dejectedly sat outside on the grass once naptime for the kids came around. You watched him from afar as he spread his wings behind him, letting them rest from all the tugging and plucking that the kids had undoubtedly and unconsciously done. His back had become a familiar scene nowadays. But gazing at him from behind always gave you the worst kind of feeling. Like he was in such faraway place that you couldn't reach him. No one could. It was why you brought him here. You wanted for him to let go of his responsibilities and burdens of a hero and see the world outside that. 

A world where he needn't be Hawks, the hero Japan had created. 

A world where he could just be Keigo Takami, the man you loved.

You made your way out there with the small bento you'd prepared and sat beside him soundlessly. Not even when you felt his feathers bristle beside your leg did he say a thing. He merely watched you with an intense gaze—one you often felt watching over you during work—as you unpacked the lunch you'd pack for the both of you. Hawks thanked you under his breath when you passed him a rice ball and ate it without a word, simply gazing skyward. You did the same watching the clouds as they floated by in the soft breeze that blew by. 

"You know..." he spoke softly, not taking his gaze away from the sky. "Even when it's so loud and cramped in there, it gives off the feeling of being peaceful somehow."

"It's strange, huh?" you say, agreeing implicitly.

"Very." He looks down long enough to grab another rice ball before turning to you and smiling warmly your way. "I can see why you like being here with them. Compared to everything we see everyday, this is heaven."

"It's a very pleasant way to unwind." You admit this as you finish your second rice ball. Deciding that was enough for you, you gently push the rest his way. He thanks you for the meal before taking what was left. "It reminds me why we do what we do. Why we're out there fighting, even when there are times when we question ourselves and the society we live in. When those thoughts come into my head, I think of these kids and all the others out there who have so much to live for. So much to see and experience. And then I think about how we're the ones keeping that future taut. We keep their dreams alive by giving them a future to look forward to."

"It's a hard thing to think of," he confessed. "Especially for someone like me who was robbed of a choice at all."

Your gaze fell, saddened by the strain in his voice. You were well aware of what he meant. Hawks had told you before how it was that he became a hero. Unlike you, it hadn't been by choice. Destiny had given him one of the best Quirks out there and by doing so, forced his hand in this society. He needed to become a hero...because if he didn't, what else could he possibly be without people out there comparing what could be with what was. 

"And that's why we have to work hard," you retorted calmly. "To make that dream of yours a reality."

"I want a world where we have more free time than we know what to do with." 

So that everybody out there has the chance of a choice. 

"Y/n! Hawks-san!" Hawks and you look over your shoulders to one of the staff members who waved at you from inside the building. "Nap time is over." 

Hawks saw a small smile appear on your lips as you raised to your feet. He followed suit and helped you gather the bento box you brought with you. As you made your way to the classroom, he spoke up, "Is it time for the live concert?"

"It is." 

A few minutes later, he found himself standing at the back of the room before a crowd of 30 more or less awake children along with the teacher in charge and the director as you took your place before a small upright piano that stood against the opposite wall. Sitting with your back perfectly straight, you turned on your bench to half face the children around you. "Now, what should we sing together today?"

Hands shot up so quickly that Hawks let out a chortle at their enthusiasm. He watched immersed and entranced with the scene of you picking a hand and choosing a song before turning back. Claiming you would need help, they all cheered and quieted to mere murmurs as you began to stroke the keys of the piano. You ask the girl that you chose the song from to start the song and for others to follow after. 

"We're small but we're strong." The little girl started with a squeaky voice. The one next to her, one who Hawks recognized as the girl's friend who'd been playing together with her stood alongside her friend while grabbing her hand to sing along. 

"We're cool but we're kind, and..."

"We deserve to shine!" they sing together, completely out of harmony but completely fine by them.

"We're gritty and tough," one of the boys chimed in.

"We're smooth and refined, and," another girl called out.

"We deserve to shine," they sang along.

"We'll figure it out, there's plenty of time."

The small voices of the teacher and director join in with a few of the children as the song continues. 

"For everybody and every mind and every facet to finally find that..."

Your voice gently echoed through the air along with the quiet voices of the children as they sang low to hear you better, joining you only when you got to the chorus again. 

"We deserve to shine.We deserve to shine."

A smile came to Hawks as he listened to you and the children chorus along to different songs. The director, noticing his attention taken by you, took the moment to explain to him why she appreciated what you did for the children.

"Take a moment to think of just Flexibility, love, and trust."

"They are children at a very critical point in their lives," the old woman said just loud enough so that he would hear her without taking the children's attention away from the quiet and soothing song that you sang to them next. 

"Take a moment, remind yourself to Take a moment to find yourself Take a moment and ask yourself if This is how we fall apart?"

"They are aware of themselves as individuals and are just learning about others. She teaches them through song how to accept themselves and others as they are. They also learn to love the world they live in, despite it not being perfect. I suppose they love her so much because she doesn't shelter them from reality or sugarcoat it as others do."

"But it's not. It's okay. I've got nothing to fear I'm here."

"She simply tells it to them in a way that they can understand."

"And it was just a thought It's okay We can watch them go by From here."

Curiously watching from the background, Hawks couldn’t help but be taken by your performance. You took your time to explain to the children what they didn’t understand and just like the director said, you didn’t shy away from the bad things either. You found a way to explain it to them in a way that they clearly understood. He recognized that way of thinking immediately. It's what attracted him to you in the first place. Your optimism, it was never from a place of falsehood. It came from a place of learning, earned experiences, and surpassed pain. 

And it's the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The day ended quickly thereafter when the last child was picked up from school. Hawks went and found you in the music room alone sitting on the bench in front of the piano and playing a couple of notes. Cautiously, he took a seat beside you and leaned his head against your shoulder. "Greatest date ever or what," you mumbled.

He chuckled as you stroke away at random keys making a makeshift melody. "I’ll admit that I was a bit skeptical at first. It was quite a surprise in the end, though, I’ll give you that."

"What can I say?" You say as he reached out with his hand and struck one of the keys repeatedly and slowly. Though dissonant, you quickly changed the ones you were playing to harmonize with his missed stroke. "I'm full of surprises."

"That you are." Carefully taking back his hand, he lifted his head to look directly at you. You, however, don't take your eyes away from the alabaster keys as your fingers graze them without making a sound now. " I’ll say...you're definitely the better hero out of the two of us."

This time you chortled at his joke. "Doubtful. You actually save lives."

"I'm not the only one," he assured you. "I may save them from danger, but you're saving them in a way I could never."

"Saving them from what, pray tell?"

"The society that will eventually try to crush them into neat little molds for their own purpose."

A brief sidelong glance was all he got from you before you retracted your hand and smiled tenderly. "They're treasures, those kids. I want them to live the lives they want to live. Differently from us. Freely."

"And we can make that happen," Hawks said confidently. You felt how one of his wings moved to cradle you closer to him. Feeling this, you reached back with one hand to run your fingers against the soft feathers that graze your skin. "The two of us, in our way."

Finally smiling that smile he fell in love with, you leaned against his shoulder this time, bringing the tail end of his wing over you. 

"I like the sound of that."

"Yeah." Hawks smiled, his chest swelling with the love he had for you as he let his head fall on top of yours. "So do I."

[queenvibranium]

I'm catching up on Queen Sugar and I just don't understand why Nova wrote all those things, do you?

I don’t know know but I do have my own thoughts on why Nova would based on some of what I’ve observed and assumed about her. 

I think about how Nova was in college when her mother passed and probably  expanded her already growing interest in systemic inequality. I imagine then she looked at what she learned with a sense of finding answers and understanding, while also building on her interest in using journalism as an activist. I assume in this time, she might have started placing a certain level of judgment on her family which I do think isn’t necessarily abnormal. I don’t know how much it built out of the loss of her mother but you can see how she always has this assumption that her family doesn’t get her (such as thinking her father wanted her to get married) while she often does not express understanding of them (I think immediately of how she yelled at Charley for wanting to spend money on their father’s funeral).  Anyway, I imagine, since college and graduate school, she learned how to articulate these concepts she already cared about and then she looks at her own family, her own richer sister, her less articulate brother, her abused aunt, and starts to analyze them all in terms of systemic inequality and, I think, she feels somewhat above them from achieving this level of education and also by being this woman who does good or enacts real change in her community. In other words, I do think she feels superior to them and has for a long time. I think back to how RA called her out for not visiting him while he was in prison while her entire platform has been about systemic injustice and brothers being thrown in the system. There is this level of empathy she extends to others that she does not always extend to her family. 

Also, I think there’s at least a part of Nova that likes having the image of being this incredible journalist/activist. She likes being the teacher. I also think it does give her a position of looking down on others, such as, say her sister who she loves but can always look at as someone who does less with more money and access. That started to get turned upside down over the last few years as Charley has been trying to do good by her community. I wonder if that inferiority complex Nova has about Charley got even worse with these substantial changes Charley made (which I think might even have influenced her to want Remy, or at least, want Remy to want her.) I know I’m going back and forth with inferiority and superiority here but I think that’s why her relationship with her sister remains complex. Charley is successful and educated and was nationally admired and known. I do wonder if Nova would look at that with resentment for many years feeling a sense of inferiority while also looking at her and thinking, “well, I am at least using my education for good and not just to expand a husband’s empire.” 

I recognize that Nova can absolutely be a caring and kind woman to her family and often gives them wonderful advice and assurance but I think about how that might connect to her own need to be exalted. I don’t know that she realizes that necessarily but I do see it in her and the way she engages her family and community. I think about how she expresses pride when they share her values. . I think she wrote that book and was able to convince herself that she was doing right because she felt that she was right about her family but I think it’s just as important to note how she wanted to be exalted by the masses. Her family’s stories were the good ones and she did not just find a way to utilize truth but she specifically decided to exploit her family’s juicer stories in a supposedly academic exercise to analyze America and to diagnose her family’s issues, all while pretending she was telling her own truth. 

She brought up the issues that her family already moved past. Charley changed. RA continued to raise his son. Vi entered a happy and safe marriage. Darla had been clean for years. Yet, Nova writes their stories and places herself in the position to judge exactly why they did what they did without even thinking she needed their POV. That tells me that she feels that she knows better than them. Furthermore, she uses their more-interesting tales to make sure people read her book. How many people would even review that book if it didn’t mention her famous sister’s marriage? Where is her integrity when even suggesting that her father might have killed two men without even doing her own fact-checking? Yes, Nova does care about justice and community but she also cares about attention and did not want to admit as much. I think her need for that attention has grown every year since the first season as she got more national attention and TV coverage and she shows anger towards anyone that even hints at trying to influence her message (Chantel, Robert, Octavia). She had a right to call some of them out but the consistency in her issues with them all has come down to “hey, this is about me.” 

So, the shorter part of this is that Nova wanted to be widely recognized for her work and wanted her work to be seen as important. She did not know how to accomplish that without her families’ stories. Furthermore, she feels a sense of superiority over her family which, to me, is the only way she could even fix herself to say these things about her family members without even bothering to get their perspectives. In my opinion, she had been holding onto these thoughts for years. 

[francesderwent]

I feel like you've probably answered this somewhere or, alternatively, are tired of the question but: how did you decide to study theology? I'm so glad you did and are because it feels like you were made to but how does one decide that? What's your phd in theology backstory?

I don’t think I’ve ever actually talked about it here!  And I’m happy to!

Short answer?  It wasnever something I planned, it was something that came at the end of a long seriesof “let’s just take one step forward and see what happens” kind of choices.

Long answer?

When I started applying for colleges at sixteen, I hadnever, in my life, had a single reasonable goal of what I wanted to be when Igrew up – the working plans went from princess to singer to actress, alwayswith the tacit understanding in the background that these were things that werenever going to actually happen, because princes were scarce, and I wasn’tcommitted enough to either of the other ideas to do the suffering-artist thingand chase them down.  And so, I appliedto college as a theology major, because I figured religion was the one thing Iwas good at.  I knew Church teaching backwardsand forwards, I’d read the whole Bible for school that one time, and when itcame to writing retreat talks or speaking the controversial truth in discussion,I could run circles around all thekids in the parish youth group.  Ifigured I was going to be some kind of prodigy; I could accurately distinguishbetween the Immaculate Conception and the Virgin Birth, after all.  

Needless to say, I was an unbearable person with very fewfriends.  

My college applications came back, and the financial aid wasbest at the school I least wanted to attend. Feeling like a martyr, I decided to attend there.  My first semester I was required to take anintro to philosophy class before I could start taking theology.  I felt this was probably a waste of my time;I was ready to get my lower level theologies out of the way so I could go on tothe advanced stuff.  But I signed up forthe philosophy which best fit my schedule and prepared to blow everyone away.  (Did I mention I was unbearable?)  That semester, the newbie philosophyprofessor whose class I’d signed up for was having all his freshmen readPlato’s Republic, cover to cover.   And just like that, my life waschanged.  For the first time I wasn’tmemorizing factoids about the truth, straight off the page of the Catechism orthe Summa.  I found myself in the placewhere Truth opens up before you and you realize it’s always going to be biggerthan you, you’re always going to be inside of it, there’s always going to bedeeper to go.  I read all my homework twoor three times.  I spent ages on all mywriting assignments, fine-tuning my arguments, trying to find new angles.  I raised my hand enough in class thatoccasionally the professor would have to say “Somebody other than Cate.”  And,miracle of miracles, I was good at philosophy– not because I’d read more or because I had more orthodox parents than anyoneelse, but just immediately, mysteriously, like all of a sudden I’d discoveredwhat my mind was made for.  I added asecond major within five months of being at school, and then was delighted todiscover that the theology department was alsofull of people who were thinking deeply about things.   I loved all my classes, but I still likedphilosophy best.

When I was approaching graduation, I sat down with one of theprofessors and asked what he thought I should do next.  I knew I didn’t want to work in a parishoffice, and I I didn’t feel ready to teach high schoolers; I thought I mightwant to go to grad school, but I didn’t even know where to begin.  And he explained to me that most of thephilosophy programs in the country were focused on analytic philosophy orlogic, and very different from the philosophy I’d done at school.  And the type of theology I’d been doing forthe last four years was apparently a veryniche school of theology – there was one grad program that had continuity withwhat I’d learned, but only one.  “It’s avery metaphysics-heavy program,” he told me, placidly, as if he hadn’t justpulled off a really impressive con, “the best philosophical thinker alive is teachingthere.  It’s the only place where youwouldn’t really have to choose.”  And soI applied to grad schools: some theology, some philosophy, with the theologywith-a-metaphysical-focus that my professor had suggested as my first choice.  Offers and rejections trickled back.  I got a really generous offer from a safetyschool far down on my list, and I began to wonder if I was going to end up withmy last choice again.  I needn’t haveworried; if I hadn’t been at my last choice for undergrad, I might never havefound out about my top choice for grad school. God had put me exactly where I needed to be four years earlier, and everythingfell into place for the next step.  Imoved, I took out loans so I could pay rent, but it all worked out.  I wasn’t even alone – two of my classmatesfrom the theology program were starting the Masters with me.

Looking back on it, I kind of squandered those twoyears.  I had a lot, a lot of personal drama in that time, andI was in a long-distance relationship, newly rekindled with an old boyfriend(bad idea), and so I was back and forth between different states every otherweekend.  And there was so much continuity with my prioreducation that I could kind of get away with it.  Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot – Ilearned to love Scripture and Christology, and moved away from my flatter, Inow realized, Kantian ethics to something more genuinely Christian.  But I was leading a very compartmentalizedexistence; I kept theology and philosophy in one box, and then in every otherbox lived my life however I wanted.  Ireceived the sacraments at almost the bare minimum.  I was learning, but I wasn’t letting anythingI learned penetrate my heart for fear of what it would require of me.

But compartmentalizing is hard and unnatural, and eventuallyI had to face up to some things.  Myboyfriend had just returned from a month-long musical tour of Ireland, and heand his fiddle player wanted to go back for three-to-six months of the nextyear, and he wanted me to come with them. This proposal was not accompanied by a corresponding proposal for thecommitment level of our relationship. When I brought this up, there was a big fight, and I finally realizedafter a year and a half of studying theology with a focus in marriage andfamily that he didn’t really believe in marriage.  He would probably have married me eventually,in ten years or so, but it wouldn’t have meant anything to him, and thevalidity would have been questionable at best. I broke up with him a week after Thanksgiving.

I found myself facing a blank future – I’d spent the lasttwo years becoming very entrenched in my boyfriend’s world, assuming that I wasabout to become a permanent fixture there. And in the process I’d put strain on a lot of my college friendships, Iwas more distant from my family than I’d ever been, and I hadn’t made any friends in grad school.  I barely even spoke to my roommates – theydidn’t find out about the breakup for weeks. I was isolated and lonely, with no goals and nothing to look forward to. And then, all the theology that I’d beenholding at arm’s length suddenly became intensely personal to me; I saw clearlyall that I’d been running from and all that I’d messed up.  I cried a lot during class that semester.

Applications for the PhD program at my school were due thesecond week of January, or thereabouts. And with nothing else on my radar, I decided I would apply.  The interview process was infamously intensive,and I figured if I made it through that then I could weigh my options from theother side.  I begged for letters ofrecommendation, scrounged together a CV, and wrote my essays.  About a month later, I had two straight daysof interviews, with everyone from the admissions director up through the DeanEmeritus.  The program adviser for theMasters asked me why I wanted a PhD; I told him it would make it easier to gettenure track positions.  “We’re allreally used to responding to interview questions in a utilitarian way,” he toldme, “how one thing will get us to somewhere else.  But why do you want that thing?”  I thought aboutit.  “It’s important to me to be able tocontinue engaging with the truth on this level,” I said. “I want to end up in aplace where my peers care about these questions and can dialogue with me.”  As soon as I said it out loud, I started toreally want it for the first time.  That professor sent me on my way to the DeanEmeritus.  We had a charming conversationabout homeschooling, and then he got down to business, told me I’d doneexcellent work there already, and asked me why I wanted a PhD.  “I know I’m going to be thinking about thesequestions for the rest of my life,” I said. “And I want to do that in acommunity.”  He nodded, and said, “That’swhat my reason was when I started a PhD, too.” Now more than a bit dazed, I headed over to my last interview with theprogram adviser for the PhD.  He lookedover my application, told me, “There’s no possible reason you couldn’t dothis,” and then gave me twenty-five minutes of advice on how to go aboutit.  My friends who’d applied with me haddescribed getting grilled – but I only felt encouraged.  These people had confidence in me.  I cried on the metro platform going homebecause I was so overwhelmed.  I’dknocked, and the door had been opened wide. In a way, the PhD program was given to me, as a surprise, and then Ilearned to want it.  By the time I got myofficial acceptance

So, for me the reasons for doing the PhD have always beencomplicated – it’s something I want for its own sake, just because I care aboutthe truth and am lucky enough to get to spend time with it, and also somethingI want for extrinsic reasons.  Those havechanged over the years, somewhat – I would still like to be a professor, but Ialso wouldn’t mind going home to work for my bishop, and if I get married andhave kids that would be more than enough for me: I’ll write the occasional articleand maybe finish a book or two, and teach religion at the homeschool co-op, butmost importantly I’ll live the truth that I’ve received.  That’s the beautiful thing about theology(and philosophy) – you can’t help butuse your degree.  And behind and aroundboth of those reasons is the only real one: this is where I was led.  There was never another choice that wouldn’thave felt like Jonah fleeing Ninevah.  I’mstruggling, all the time, but I get indications every now and then that this isstill where I’m meant to be.  I have noidea where the path I’m on is going to take me, but I can see how it got mehere, and I trust that God will continue to lead me.

[onlineeducation2]

Making Online Education Attractive

Everywhere, the quantities of individuals in school at the various levels takes pyramidal shape. There are gigantic numbers at the rudimentary, yet as they progress, the numbers decline, leaving only a couple of in advanced education. In the United States, around 65 million understudies were supposed to enlist from K to K12 in the fall of 2015. In a similar period, it was normal that 20.2 million would go to Colleges and Universities. It is assessed that 25% of new secondary school understudies in the U.S.A can't graduate. For new understudies who enter schools or colleges 1 out of 3 are probable not come to second year. This dropout out rate frustrates public turn of events, in light of the fact that many individuals don't get the full preparation they should be utilitarian in the public arena. Public improvement would be enormously cultivated, assuming more grown-ups get training, all together that they become useful in the public arena.

I'm not saying that all grown-ups who were not completely taught IN Online education are not assuming significant parts in the public eye. There are exceptionally conspicuous people in the public eye who exited school at some level. Charge Gate, Mark Zuckerberg, Oprah Winfrey, for instance, eventually exited school. However this rundown isn't comprehensive, the quantity of individuals who exited school or chose not to acquire advanced education but became fruitful are somewhat not many. For the greater part who exited or ended schooling, and couldn't become effective in their vocations, it was on the grounds that they coming up short on information they expected to foster their true capacity. Assuming you actually look at the historical backdrop of the people who regardless of exiting or stopping tutoring have become fruitful, you would see that as seemed to have tracked down their life's motivation thus sought after those objectives and, all the more significantly, they got some sort of training later.

Training as we as a whole know is a long lasting movement. Anytime, whether you exited the everyday schedule praises at your graduation, you would require instruction. The school dropout who has found himself a business or acquired work needs training so he/she can be more useful, the dropout who has understood the need to school however has 'developed past school going age' and wants to school clearly needs schooling, directors as well as representatives need further training to stay up with the present quickly impacting world and gain expanded wages and status individually. Some way or another, the conventional instruction subordinate society we have made for us and thinks about', 'as far as possible our mission for proceeding with schooling. For some individuals, formal training finished the day they exited or moved on from High School, College or University, despite the fact that, innovation makes it workable for us to sit in our homes regardless get quality training.

At the point when innovation - PCs and web availability - supplanted actual homerooms and made it conceivable to concentrate by distance progressively, it seemed the issue of constant training for everybody, including the dropout and the middle class have been settled. It showed up, regardless does, that now the instructor need not leave his understudies, apply for study-leave or time away to seek after additional schooling. It seemed the fifty-year-elderly person who exited school quite a while back could now school from home and it seemed the dad could realize what his girl is realizing at College utilizing a similar gadget he uses to call her. It gave the idea that. The individuals who exited school because of issues of money and have not since had an advancement wouldn't benefit, and the people who have the cash would have zero desire to place their cash into a testament bosses and academicians the same would disapprove of. So little seem to have changed for these two gatherings, however online Colleges and Universities flourish.

Two prime issues are at fault. In the first place, online training is excessively costly for the objective gathering of students and second, there is the discernment that web-based Colleges and Universities don't give all encompassing schooling like the customary Colleges and Universities. As demonstrated by Ed Vosganian - organizer and CEO of College Funding 123, the expense of nearby University for undergrad is assessed at 42,000 bucks while for a similar gathering it cost around 21,000 bucks for online colleges. By correlation we would agree that that it cost undeniably less to study by means of on the web. Be that as it may, we want not neglect to focus on the people who generally sign up for online University. It is those in the center and lower classes who settle on web-based colleges. They incorporate; the representative who has forfeited delight for higher capability as a trade-off for better wages, the jobless who needs to acquire employable abilities, the dropout who needs to return to school with the expectation that there will be a more promising time to come, and individuals living in the remote region of the planet, particularly in the creating scene, who don't for even a moment have the cash to pay charges thus would need to learn and work all the while. To these 21,000 bucks is cash so enormous, it is extremely challenging to raise. There are individuals of the greater pay class who sign up for online colleges, yet internet learning isn't famous among these because of low distinction and the fantasies related with online instruction. The web-based foundations will tell you, they wouldn't put anything on your endorsement to show that you got a forward thinking training. This sort of advert talks about how society values online instruction. Online schooling is viewed as a modest approach to getting 'watered down' training. Online Colleges and Universities were as of not long ago considered certificate factories. This discernment actually exists, however exact proof lets us know there is no divergence in nature of understudies from customary Colleges and Universities on one hand and online Colleges and Universities on the other. The web-based Universities and Colleges are giving their all to make internet learning renowned and cut down concentrate on cost, yet they can't do it single-handedly. With government mediation web based learning can become esteemed and lower and working class agreeable.

[ponyregrets]

Is there a Bellamy pov for 'I frankly would've liked to stay'? Coz I really want to know what prompted them starting to make out, like, did Clarke say something? He made the move, but I can't read his side of things as well in this one so I'm mighty curious. I bet you'd come up with something amazing!

tbh the explanation is mostly “he wanted to make out with her” but you know

original fic here on AO3 and alt POV here!

The thing about Clarke is that she's like no one else Bellamy has ever had in his life. She likes him without any obligation to like him, and apparently with no misconceptions or ulterior motives. She enjoys spending time with him, doesn't get intimidated or annoyed by his moods, and seems to appreciate when he stands up to her, even when she's very determined to get her way.

She is, of course, also intelligent and beautiful and makes his whole chest feel warm, and he would like, very much, to figure out how to make it work with her. It being however far he can safely get on the sliding scale from friends to lovers. If all they ever are is good roommates who are fond of each other, he'll live, but he'd be much happier if he could at some point make out with her.

And he's pretty sure that should not, in any way, require his addressing the TV thing.

Honestly, nothing should require his addressing the the TV thing, because the TV thing is just not a big fucking deal. Every time he thinks about it, he tells himself that. Everyone else tells him that too, but they never make it sound believable. After all, it's hard to believe when every time someone finds out that he hasn't seen whatever thing he'd just love, and he says he's not interested, and it's always just--weird.

In some ways, it's become a test for him. He thought Miller would be a dick about it, but Miller just said, "Fuck, if you want to deprive yourself of cool shit, that's your call. You still play video games?" and that was it.

With Clarke, the biggest problem is that she makes him want to like the things she likes. He's at that stage of his crush where he wants to know everything about her, and she's the kind of person who likes having the TV on. And, from what he can tell, she has pretty good taste in her media.

So he starts asking about it slowly. If she has something he doesn't recognize on, he asks what it is, and she tells him, and that's about as far as he's gotten. Which is sad, and he's more than aware of it. But he'll come up with a second step, at some point. It really shouldn't be that awkward.

But he waits too long, so it is.

It's not strange for him to find her on the couch in her pajamas on a Saturday morning; when they first moved in together, she asked if he minded her hanging out in the living room with the TV on while he was around, and he said no, and she told him to just let him know if he ever wanted to watch something else.

Which, of course, he never has.

He goes into to the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee, leans against the counter to watch whatever is happening on the screen. It looks like fantasy, which isn't something he sees her watching a lot, and he takes a sip of his drink before he asks, "What are you watching?"

Instead of answering, she twists around to frown at him, which is not her usual reaction. "What do you mean, what am I watching?"

He frowns right back. "I'm not sure how that question could be clearer. You even repeated it."

"Fellowship of the Ring," she says, and he doesn't wince, but that explains that. "Extended edition."

He keeps his voice casual as he pushes off the counter to lean over her instead. "Oh yeah, they made a movie of that." Whoever's on the screen is short and kind of dirty, so he makes an educated guess. "Is that Frodo?"

"That's Gimli," she says, amused.

"Oh, yeah, that makes way more sense."

He pushes off the couch, and heads to the kitchen, thinking he's escaped from the awkwardness, but then he hears, "How have you not seen this? I know you have the books. I've seen the books on your shelves."

"I just never saw them," he finally says, knowing she's not going to let it go at that. He remembers when they came out, and it was all he heard about at school for weeks. He knows the guy who plays Legolas is, like, really dreamy, and that even jock kids liked the movies, which he told himself was a sign he wouldn't have.

But he really had wanted to see them. He'd done the math over and over, making sure he really couldn't afford it, and he really couldn't. So he didn't.

He hears the movie stop, and he doesn't let himself turn around. Not even when she says, "It really just started. You should watch with me." When he still doesn't respond, she adds, "Fellowship is definitely the best, but you can get mad about how they screwed up Faramir in Two Towers."

It's not what he was expecting her to say at all, and something in his chest relaxes. She doesn't think these movies are perfect. She's probably not even going to be offended if he complains about them. "They screwed up Faramir?"

There's a smug note in her voice that says she knows she's won. "Totally. Come on, Bellamy," she wheedles, for good measure. "I was in this fandom for a while. I can tell you all about the slash fanfic I read about Legolas and Gimli making out."

"I don't have to actually watch it for you to tell me about that," he points out, like he's not already a lost cause. She's never asked him to watch anything else before, and apparently he's not good at resisting her. "Isn't it like ten billion hours?"

"I'm sorry, did you suddenly grow a social life? Did you make plans for the weekend?"

He puts his coffee down on the table. "I need to get a book. So I can pretend I'm studying."

"Uh huh. I'll start it over."

He gets a book and sees that she's moved from the middle cushion to the left one, so he takes the right, leaving a good couple feet of space between them. The last time he watched a movie with someone, it was "watching a movie" as a clear and unmistakable excuse to make out. Which he's used to.

With Clarke, it's friendly. She puts her feet up on the coffee table and has her sketchpad in her lap, and aside from the anxious flutter in his chest, it feels like the kind of thing he could get used to. That he'd like to get used to. It would be nice, being good at watching movies with Clarke.

It still takes him a while to get there.

They blaze through The Lord of the Rings over the weekend, and it does go well. Bellamy has some trouble actually relaxing, but Clarke has a knack for putting him at ease. And she doesn't seem to care that he's not thrilled with the way they did Eowyn's storyline and thinks that a lot of the better speeches lost some of their impact going to screen. She has her own complaints, and there's plenty to like about the adaptation too.

It's fun, and he wants to be happy about it, but he can't help waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Because this is not something Clarke is letting go. She's not exactly subtle about it, but she is--well, she's cool about it, thinking about what he'll like and why he might like it. He assumes she talked to his sister, which is weird, but flattering, and it comes across as something she wants to share with him.

It's nice, it just feels like only a matter of time before he hits something that makes it awkward.

"I've never seen a Mad Max movie," he tells her, in line for Fury Road. Just to test the waters.

"Neither have I, but assholes on the internet are boycotting this one because it has too many women, so how bad can it be? And I don't think there's a ton of plot we have to follow."

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand. "That's a thing?"

"Which part?"

"People boycott movies because they have too many women?"

"Have we talked about the Ghostbusters reboot?" she asks, sounding thoughtful, and maybe that's why this thing is working for him. It's not just that she wants to share this stuff with him, it's that she knows what he's going to be interested.

She's working at it, and it's hard to feel anything but grateful and happy about that.

"You haven't," he says, shifting a little closer. "Do we have time?"

"Not for all of it. But I'm not going anywhere."

He bites the corner of his mouth. "No. So, tell me about Ghostbusters."

*

He actually really likes the anime. Not just because it's cool, but because Clarke hasn't seen a lot of it either, so he feels less pressure. If he was watching Clarke's favorite movie and hating it, he'd feel bad, but he likes forming opinions with her, or seeing her rediscover something she'd largely forgotten, enough so that when she says they're on their last Ghibli movie, he's honestly disappointed.

"I don't know anything about this one," Clarke says, making a face. "Grave of the Fireflies. Watch or skip it?"

"We've got it, why would we skip it?"

She looks so happy that he wishes he could just be normal about this. That he could just forget his random spikes of anxiety and watch things as casually as she does.

But he's still kind of a weird anxious mess, so that's all he's got.

"Yeah," she agrees. "I've heard it's good."

And part of Bellamy can recognize that it is good. Quality isn't the issue. But Clarke has been sticking, largely, to fun, somewhat fantastical stuff. Most of the movies were at least a little emotional, but Grave of the Fireflies is a war movie, and it's a war movie that starts with a little boy dying after he fails to save his younger sister's life, and that's nothing like any of the other things they've watched together.

It's not an unfamiliar feeling, recognizing himself in media. He does it in books and in songs, in the things he interacts with on his own. He likes it, even when it hurts, the familiarity, the assurance that he's not alone.

But, left to his own devices, he might not have experienced it with Clarke. He's not one of those people who thinks that guys crying is bad, or damaging to their masculinity, but there is something awkward about crying in front of another person, even quietly. They feel obligated to react in some way, and he wouldn't have put that burden on her. It's awkward, and he's never thought of her as someone who feels very at home with comforting people.

Then, she reaches over and takes his hand, making his heartbeat spike. Her palm is soft on top of his, her grip gentle, as if she just wants to remind him she's here. He swallows hard, unable to take his eyes off the TV, and lets his hand turn over so he can squeeze her back. Part of him wants to say something, to explain himself, but Clarke probably understands.

For the first time, he feels sure: she's on his side. She's going to stay on his side.

He doesn't have anything good to say about the movie, nothing that feels right. He liked it, but the words feel inaccurate and inadequate all at once. It was like watching another version of himself, a life he might have had, the life he beat. He and Octavia survived. He kept them alive.

So he clears his throat to get the tears out of his voice and asks, "Do you have easy access to that cop show?"

"Cop show?"

"The one with the hot angry latina." She watches it a lot in the background, and he always likes what he hears. One time a guy actually said the word transphobic. He didn't think that happened on TV shows.

Her smile isn't patronizing at all; if anything, she looks glad there's something she can do. "Yeah, it's on Hulu."

"Could we watch an episode of that? Just--"

She squeezes his hand when his voice gives out. "Sounds good."

Then she lets go, which kind of sucks. He's excited for the show, but he'd be more excited without the cushion of space between them, if she were curled up into his side. It would make him feel so much better.

When she's done, she puts the remote aside and lets her hand fall back on the cushion between them. It could be a coincidence; it could mean nothing. But if she can have a campaign to get him familiar with pop culture, he can have his own, private counter-campaign, one where he tries to figure out how to, someday, date her.

So he reaches back, takes her hand, and sees her smile a little.

Maybe it won't even be that hard.

*

Of course, the thing about his plan is that it involves a lot of risk. If making a move on Clarke goes wrong, his whole life is kind of ruined. He has other friends, of course, other people he cares about, but--he adores Clarke, like he's never adored anyone else. If it works out, it's going to be amazing. If it doesn't, he'll still have to live with her, and with the knowledge that she doesn't want him.

"Or you could, you know, get a girlfriend," Miller says. "I hear that's good, if you're into it. And she's cool and likes all your weird shit. It's been long enough she's probably not even just into you for your body."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried she's not into me at all."

"Dude. You've had other roommates, right? You get that this isn't normal."

"It's not about roommates. It's about her. She could be like this with all her roommates. She finds out something is weird and has to fix it. That's how she is."

"She can do that and still be into you," Miller says. "Which, again, I'm pretty sure she is. Her signals are not subtle. She looks at your mouth a lot."

"Why do you know that?"

"Monty and I have a drinking game. Once you're dating someone, the stress about them not liking you goes away and you have to make your own fun."

He rubs his face. "I'm going to tell her. I can do that thing where I yawn and put my arm around her, right? That's what people do during movies."

"How do you know that but not what The Terminator is?"

"I assume it's a guy who terminates things," he says. "Is it going to help me hit on Clarke? If it doesn't, I don't care."

"It probably could. You need all the help you can get."

He leans back, closing his eyes. "I'm going to figure it out any day. Just wait."

"I'm not holding my breath," says Miller, and Bellamy inclines his head without straightening it up.

"Yeah, I wouldn't suggest it."

*

When he's still working on figuring out how to subtly shift into Clarke and put his arm around her during a movie, they hit the Star Wars issue.

It's weird to think of Star Wars as an issue, but lots of people love Star Wars, and he knows Clarke is one of them. She doesn't make a huge deal of it or anything, but she has a Darth Vader mug that her dad gave her before he died, and she actually owns the DVDs, which is pretty rare for her. She usually just streams things.

It seemed pretty unlikely that he'd be able to avoid it coming up ever, but he hoped he'd be able to avoid it coming up until he was sure she liked him. When he didn't think it could ruin things.

It's so stupid. He knows it is.

He's at the stove, working on dinner, when it finally comes up, and he doesn't even notice. He did know May the force be with you was a thing, but his primary association with the word force isn't the Star Wars franchise, so he runs through a list of things it could be and finally guesses, "Is that a band?"

He'll maintain it's a good guess. They don't usually buy movie tickets that much in advance. And she seems to expect him to know what it is, which isn't usually how she acts about movies. Plus, he knew there was a new Star Wars coming at some point, but he thought it wasn't for a while, and he didn't know the name.

But then Clarke says, slow, "It's the new Star Wars," and he tries and fails not to wince.

"Huh," he says, careful.

There's a pause, and then he feels her by his side, so close he could hook his arm around her waist if he wanted to. Which, he does, but--not right now.

"You know I don't care, right?" she asks, because she does know him. "You haven't seen movies, big deal. It's kind of nice. I get to show you all my favorite stuff and you've never seen it before. I get to see you seeing it for the first time."

He's heard that before, but he does believe it from Clarke. She seems equally delighted when he enjoys things and when he complains, but--he wants to love the things she loves. He wants to have these things in common.

"Octavia told you," he says, mostly to see what she'll say. Of course she talked to Octavia about it, but--he doesn't know exactly what Clarke thought was important. Or what Octavia assumes about why he's so stubborn about these things.

"Just that you guys didn't have a TV when you were kids," she says, with an easy shrug. "And that she gets annoyed with people asking her why she hasn't seen stuff."

He nods, looks at her sidelong. "I know all the spoilers."

"For what?"

"Star Wars. Darth Vader is Luke's father. Luke and Leia are siblings. The prequels are shit. Jar Jar Binks is the worst." He scrambles for any other knowledge of the franchise and comes up wit, "Uh, Yoda," which at least makes her laugh.

"You think Yoda is a spoiler?"

"He's not? I feel like once I saw him, there wasn't much point in anything else."

"Yeah, we all feel that way about Yoda." She nods, as if this was a discussion, and now they're on the same page. "So, this weekend, right? You and me, Star Wars marathon. You were a space kid. I bet you haven't seen Star Trek either," she adds, perking up again. She sounds gleeful, and all he really wants is to make her happy.

He wants this to be as fun as she thinks it will be.

"I thought you weren't allowed to like both," he says, wary.

"I'm a rebel." She taps her jaw. "I think you'd like DS9, that's the one that's got, like--it's the one that's good if you don't have the benefit of nostalgia."

"You're making this sound great."

"I try to be realistic," she says, and he knows that's true too. She's been working so hard at this. She's been so careful.

And now she wants to jump in the deep end with Star Wars.

"I might not like it."

"We don't have to watch DS9."

"I meant Star Wars," he says. "Is that going to be a problem? You going to have to move out?"

Her smile is a little patronizing, and he has to admit he deserves it. "I'll live. But I think you're going to like it."

"I had this girlfriend in high school," he lets himself admit. It's one of those stories that he feels hurt him more than it should have, that he doesn't like caring about. But she was the first girl he'd ever really dated, instead of fooling around, and he'd liked her. He'd thought they had something good. Now, he knows that it wouldn't have lasted anyway, but--it was easy for him to get attached back then. He was so greedy for affection. "She found out I liked the Harry Potter books, but I'd never seen the movie, and she was--like you, I guess." It's not true, not really; he doesn't think Clarke will be anything like Roma was. But he needs to hear her say she's not. "She was really excited she got to show them to me. And I fucking hated the first movie," he admits, with a wry smile. "I always kind of saw Harry as, uh--I thought he'd look more like me, and no one else looked like I pictured them either and it just--I thought it was shitty, I didn't want to watch the rest, she got pissed, and we broke up. Over a stupid Harry Potter movie. And it's not like I really cared," he adds, which isn't exactly true either. He wants to not care, but everyone else always makes him feel like he has to. Just because Clarke does it in a nice way doesn't mean he can stop fretting. Fretting is what he does. "But I did get sick of it. I haven't seen some stuff. Who cares?"

She leans her forehead against his shoulder blade, warm and affectionate. "I kind of like it when you hate stuff," she tells him. "It's fun."

"Yeah, I've noticed. But--you like Star Wars."

"Yup," she says, without a trace of worry.

"I want to like it."

"Maybe you will." There's a pause, and then she adds, deliberate, "I'm not going to break up with you if you don't like Star Wars, Bellamy."

"We're not dating," he says, voice a little dry. It doesn't even feel true, right now. It feels as if he could kiss her, and she'd slide into his arms and not leave. "So that would be tough. Do we have to watch the prequels?"

"I'm going to do some research," she declares, because of course she is, and he loves her.

"Research?" he asks, and lets himself hope it's going to be okay as she walks him through her plan.

Star Wars is really long, after all. He can definitely stretch and wrap his arm around her at some point.

*

He blames his actual excitement about the whole thing for his slip-up with Octavia. They're on their weekly check-in call, and when she asks him if he's doing anything special over the weekend, he tells her, "Watching Star Wars with Clarke," without thinking about it.

During the long pause, he remembers that his sister has tried, on multiple occasions, to convince him to watch Star Wars, for his own edification. Half of his refusal to see those movies, specifically, was just to piss her off.

If anyone had asked him, he would have said he assumed Octavia knew he was in love with Clarke. He sort of assumes everyone knows. It's a both minor miracle and annoyance that Clarke seems to have missed it. So it doesn't really feel like this should be a surprise for her. She should be able to figure it out.

"All of them?" is what she finally asks.

"You didn't think I had a social life, did you?" He shrugs, even though she can't see it. "Might as well get it over with. She wants to go to the new one, so--"

"So that is a thing."

"I don't know what you were expecting, you had your hot friend move in with me. Obviously I have a thing for her. I thought you knew."

"You're such a mess, Bell," she says. "If you like Star Wars, I'm never going to let you live it down."

"Cool," he says. "I'll deserve it."

*

Despite his best efforts to sleep in, he wakes up stupidly early on Saturday. At least the problem isn't really nerves about not liking Star Wars; he's basically fine with however that turns out. But the event feels significant, and he's got his mind half set on today being it. He's going to make a move on Clarke, somehow.

But she's not even awake yet, so if his brain would just shut the fuck up about it, that would be great. He gathers some of his thesis stuff to work on to distract himself, getting set up on the couch fairly happily. He's going for cool and casual, but of course as soon as Clarke comes out, she calls him out on it, which is fine. He wasn't really planning to keep the books once she was awake, he just needed something to do with his hands.

He gets the stuff put away and is settled back in by the time she's ready with coffee and cereal, and he can see her thinking for a second before she sits directly next to him, close enough that he can feel the heat coming off her side.

So they're on the same page. That's good.

"Okay, so," he says, shifting so he can get more comfortable, putting his arm behind her on the couch, but not really around her shoulders. "What's the plan? Did you figure out the optimal order to watch these in?"

"Machete order, basically," she says, like this will mean something to him. His expression must give him away, because she counts off on her fingers. "Episode four, episode five, episode two, episode three, episode six. And instead of watching The Phantom Menace, we just listen to the Weird Al "American Pie" parody song, which is way better."

"Cool. Which one is your favorite?"

She flashes him a grin. "Why, do you want to be nice to it?"

"Kind of, yeah."

Apparently it's the right answer, because she actually starts snuggling with him, which is the best kind of alarming. She's warm and smells like day-old shampoo, and it's the kind of perfect, comfortable morning he'd like to have every weekend.

"Return of the Jedi," she says. "I think the Ewoks are cute. Apparently this is a really unpopular opinion on the internet." She flashes him another bright smile. "I got in some fights while I was looking into this, so you better appreciate it."

"My hero," he says, getting his arm around her shoulders. "Are people against cute things?"

Clarke trades her cereal for the remote. "Not exactly. Just, you know. Star Wars is at its best when it's all serious and about a lack of hope for the future or something. Which is bullshit, especially given the first movie is called A New Hope. That's setting an optimistic tone."

"The first movie or the fourth movie?"

"Fourth movie."

"That's definitely needlessly confusing, for the record."

"Yeah, I think it was supposed to be kind of exciting? The ultimate in media res. But it gets weird to talk about."

He lets himself rest his cheek on her hair. "What's the one coming out soon that we have to see? What episode, I mean. Negative five?"

"Seven," she says, fond. "Okay, first disclaimer."

"Jesus, already?"

She ignores him. "These are the new versions, so I'm going to yell at the screen about how George Lucas is a hack any time one of the new scenes is on."

"Perfect. This is a lot of text. Do I need to be reading it?"

"No, you're fine. Evil empire, no hope, the usual."

"Is Yoda the new hope?"

She laughs. "No, Yoda is his sled." There's a pause. "You get that reference from just being alive, right?"

"Citizen Kane?" he hazards.

"Yeah. Which I've never actually seen. We should watch it. Grow as people."

"That sounds awful. The ships are pretty cool," he adds, hesitant. Effects don't always work for him, but he can imagine how cool the opening would look on a big screen, how all-consuming.

"That's a Star Destroyer," she says. "Evil empire ship."

"Evil empires get all the cool ships." He slides his arm further down, around her waist, and she finishes up the last few bites of cereal and puts the bowl down so she can curl against his chest.

He could definitely get used to this. And he even thinks he'll have the chance to.

*

He misses Yoda's first appearance, but it's definitely not his fault. He's trying to figure out when he should be tugging Clarke into his lap to kiss her, and it's hard to plan that when he's never seen the movie. And he is enjoying the movie. It's just that the girl he's in love with is tangled in his arms and they're holding hands and he's not sure there's a movie in the world that could distract him from that. Especially given what a great angle he has to look down her tank top right now.

"I was expecting more of a reaction," she says.

He starts, guilty. "What?"

"Yoda. I know he's your top priority."

He squints at the screen. Luke is on some kind of weird gray swamp planet, and everything seems bad.

Then he sees the weird green thing.

"Holy shit, is that him?"

Clarke is laughing. "I thought you knew what he looked like!"

"I thought he'd be bigger. And brighter green. And--wow. That's a lot."

She squeezes his fingers. "Everything you dreamed?"

"Honestly, yeah. What's he made out of? Is there an actor in there?"

"I think he's a puppet."

"Wow. That's awesome."

"I'm glad he lives up to expectations. He and Luke are going to do a training montage."

"He's a teacher?"

"Jedi master."

"Huh."

"See, you didn't get spoiled for everything."

"Not everything," he agrees, turning his focus to their linked hands. "I didn't see this one coming."

*

"Fun fact, Weird Al actually wrote that song before the movie came out based on Internet spoilers," Clarke tells him, once they're finished with the musical recap of the first episode. If it's really accurate, he doesn't feel like he's missing that much. He has yet to develop any emotional attachment to Anakin Skywalker.

"And I'll never know how accurate it is."

"You can watch the first one. I won't stop you."

"What's the point if you're not watching it with me?" he asks without thinking, and he's rewarded with a smile and slight flush.

"Suffering is better together," she agrees. "Okay. Episode two?"

"Sure," he says.

He'd like to say he gives the movie a fair try, but he honestly just doesn't. Clarke doesn't like it, and it's not like he's doing this just to impress her, but if she's not engaged, he isn't going to be either.

Besides, she just keeps getting closer to him, and even if he didn't basically want to marry her, he'd be dealing with some noticeable physical reactions.

"Do I need to care about this?" he asks. Pre-Vader and his girlfriend are flirting. Maybe. It's probably supposed to be flirting, but Han and Leia were a lot more convincing.

"Yes, this is--" She makes a face. "Honestly, I can't even think of a fake reason to care. I honestly have no idea what happens in this--"

He catches her jaw and tugs her mouth to his, swallowing the end of her sentence. She laughs into the kiss, this bright, pleased sound, and repositions so she can reciprocate without hurting her neck. He mouth is soft and warm and perfect, and she's pressing in close, like she wouldn't have been able to wait much longer either.

"This is because I'm bored and you're all over me," he tells her, trying not to grin too hard. "Not because the movie is romantic. I just want that to be clear."

"Because you're bored?" she asks, amused, and he nips her neck.

"We need to be dating by the time we're watching Return of the Jedi so you can dump me when I don't like it," he teases. "So I was working on a pretty short timetable."

Clarke looks like she's going to say something, but she leans in first, and he can't help kissing her again, and it turns into making out basically instantly, warm and perfect, making his whole chest light up. She's so warm and eager on top of him, so perfect.

"That's probably not going to happen," she murmurs, and there's a split second of total panic before she laughs softly and noses his jaw. "I meant dumping you, not dating you. I don't think there's anything you can say about Return of the Jedi to make me stop liking you."

He wasn't actually worried, not with any conscious part of his brain, because he knows her, and he knows she wouldn't be doing this if she wasn't serious. So it's easy to laugh and let his hands find the hem of her shirt, pulling it off when she obligingly raises her arms. "Sounds like a challenge." he says, giving her another kiss. "What if I hate the Ewoks?"

"I'll live."

"What if I think the entire franchise is a waste?"

"You like Princess Leia, so I know you don't."

"What if I--"

"What if instead of talking about Star Wars, we had sex?" she suggests, grinding down on him with a wicked smirk. "Don't get me wrong, it's fun and all, but--come on, Bellamy. It's just a movie."

He laughs, sliding his hands up her back to unhook her bra. "Yeah," he agrees. "Just a movie."

[taco-calamitous]

Ha-HA! Have THIS long-ass shit on your page!