#especially because he and I were both on a group project thingy with some people several months ago and that's where we met her

[whenthegoldrays]

still shook

[eljeebee]

For the friends ask meme thingy, the way I'd say "please answer all questions" bc considering your interesting and wonderful dynamics for your OC's I would really want to know it all!!! LOVE 'EM <3 BUUUT, it's also quite an... amount, so I'll say 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 27 🙈

A loooong one! Thank you for the ask Evan!!!!

(4) Who's the group baby? Who has to be protected at all costs?

Answered here!

(8) Who is the one with the troubling lifestyle? Who makes sure they take care of each other?

Agents:

I won't elaborate on this one, because secret agents has enough troubling lifestyle to live with, especially with Priscilla who grew up in their organization, trained to be its weapon.

DLU:

My main families (Davises and Vanderburgs) doesn't have that lifestyle yet. 🤐

Though when it comes to troubling lifestyle, Percival has some... traits. Off-camera, Percy likes to have casual sex, hook-ups, so he tends to go to different bars and clubs. He once tried looking for another one night stand in Sanguine, but Lilith kicked him out. I know this isn't troubling lifestyle, and that there are people out there who does this, but to Valentina, it is.

Percy also likes looking for a fight, and would always come home with bruises barely there, almost healed. Valentina's worried the oath he had is still lingering there, with lust and bloodlust mixing together. Percy assures her he doesn't hear whispers anymore, and explained that sometimes Lana gets on his nerves so much he needs an outlet.

Lenora picked up on this as well, and makes sure that every time tension rises between one ancient vampire and one young vampire, she's there to remove Percy from the room. She would always ask him to help her out with the recipe she found online and from the magazines, help her in painting, and would always tell him stories from before.

Now, the fights are less, but the casual sex is still there 👍🏻 Valentina always reminds him not to bite anyone, and not let anyone injure him while having sex so a drop of blood can't seep through an accidentally bitten fuck buddy.

(15) If there is or could be a group chat, who spams the chat with memes?

Agents:

No sending of memes on official channels, as well as in private communications, because memes can also be a meme. I will not elaborate this one for "safety measures" as Priscilla told me.

DLU:

Mason Davis mostly send memes. Jason reacts with a dad joke. Sophia sends a 👍🏻 with Louie and Sid sharing another meme.

The Vanderburgs does have a group chat, but they don't send memes. More on "Margaux, your agency wants you to sign on this project, it's going to conflict on this engagement on this date, shall we skip this show?" and "Please do, Penny. Thank you."

However, Louie, Sid, Julie, Mousse, and with their newest member, Mason, has a group chat! Out of all of them, both Julie and Sid has little activity on this group chat because they tend to have a separate conversation in the chat...while the boys sends their memes lol

There's one whole group chat with the Beau-Asvangs and Strauds, created by Lilith herself. Lenora participates by sending a video of a recipe, Lilith sends memes. Percival replies back with another one. Helen promptly reacts, Caleb leaves them on read. Valentina, Vlad, and Lana will only send a message if it's something important.

(16) On a day out or a night out, who typically ends up with the bill? Is there ever arguments?

Answered here!!

(23) Who is the pretty one? Who is the smart one? Do they label themselves as anything? How do they see each other?

Agents:

The Secret Agent, The Rouge Mage, and The Handler. These were given nicknames of their colleagues, and they didn't mind so they stick with it.

DLU:

I don't think anybody label themselves as anything??? Louie and his friend group doesn't like labelling each other because each and every one of them has their own strengths. One can't be smarter than the other, because everyone has their own smarts.

Except for one vampire called Lilith Vatore where she calls the older vampires, "The Ancients" sometimes with a teasing tone, and sometimes with hidden anger when she's pissed.

(27) Is there a particular song or playlist that reminds you of them?

I think this is my weakest point when it comes to writing. I don't use songs to associate them with a person, I use songs to give myself the proper mood in writing but:

Gilded Lily by Cults reminds me of Priscilla so much. Haven't I given enough?

[merivrse]

STRAY KIDS SURVIVAL SHOW

☰ lou during the STRAY KIDS survival show part one

TRAINEE SHOWCASE

„Hi! I am Kwon Ahin, JYP trainee of almost 1 year and part of… *chuckles* part of the Boys Project Team.” *laughs* “Why did we call it Boys Project Team if I am here as well?”

“Why are you in the Boys’ team and not the Girls team?”

“I wasn’t put into the Girls team but Chan asked me to be part of his team instead so here I am!” *whispering* “Honestly, I was surprised too!”

entire episode is literally a game of ‘finding lou’

like where tf is she

barely on the screen for like thirty seconds in total and almost twenty of those are during group shots of the performance

it really felt like she didn’t even exist

DORM TOUR

since she still lives together with her dad, she’s doing a self cam in their flat

it’s rather small but still very comfortable

lou joking around with her dad >>

while she packs, he makes her some food and the two eat together

“will you be okay, living by yourself? won’t you be lonely?”

“shouldn’t i ask you whether you’ll be okay living with nine others instead of only one?”

yeah that’s about it

yes she has a Disney suitcase leave her alone, Thumper is cute okay

chooses room 1 just like hyunjin and changbin before her

she doesn’t really care who she rooms with tbh

just accepts her fate of having to room with jisung and jeongin

ngl she’s still a little awkward with them so yeah

maybe she did have a teeny tiny bit of hope inside her that wished felix would come into the room lol

goes to help in the kitchen because she doesn’t want to play the zombie game

ARCADE

she has literally never been in an arcade before

absolutely clueless about what to do

also simply not an athletic person

anywayyy

Chan choses her as a team mate

but they’re playing football first so yeah

she does better than she thought she would

just doesn’t shoot the ball where it’s supposed to land

can’t stop laughing watching the oldest members doing that make-the-shape-with-your-body game thingy

FIRST MISSION – OWN SONG + STAGE

literally likes all the samples Chan plays for them but the first and last one were the best

absolutely amazed by 3racha’s minds lol

struggled with the choreo a little since she isn’t that good of a dancer compared to the others

stays even after the group practice together with Jeongin and Minho because honestly, she probably wouldn’t get it done without the boy’s help

at least she doesn’t have any problems with her lines and vocals so she can fully focus on the performance

it’s so nerve-wrecking standing in front of JYP holy shit

and then he criticizes the female key of the song (he even asked if it was because of her like ???)

ngl her heart sank into her stomach

especially because according to him she was still very much lacking especially performance wise but even her vocals were criticised as well

“There was an obvious reason for you not to be in the female debut team.”

up for elimination with Jeongin, Hyunjin and Minho

MV FOR HELLEVATOR

trying to do her best without letting the directors see her nervousness

sticks to Felix as if her life depended on it

both amazed and scared shitless

SECOND MISSION – UNIT MISSIONS

joins Chan, Seungmin and Hyunjin in their performance

going bowling together

as I said, she isn’t really athletic

and she also wasn’t feeling 100% that day so she looked a little gloomy

“I’ll just pay for the food, since I can’t bowl anyways!”

she still had to play lol

made Chan throw some of her tries to get at least a few points

he threw a strike for her.

he felt betrayed by his own hands

anywayyy

they did their little self-evaluation

lou decide to stay rather quite because she felt she didn’t have the right to say something about the performance of people who had trained way longer than her

she just hoped that the other members would be honest so that they could deliver perfect stages at the end

absolutely nervous to perform in front of JYP again

“Maybe it’s because there wasn’t much choreography but you did surprisingly well.”

“It didn’t feel like much of a compliment…”

and apparently “surprisingly well” doesn’t mean the same as “your performance was good” because she was up for elimination again

didn’t want to believe that Minho was actually eliminated

almost cried ngl but she held back her tears because she didn’t want JYP to see her cry for some reason

but once he was gone and the others also cried, she just couldn’t hold it back anymore

[lunetheaveragefan]

one day...

Hi, y’all! Sorry there’s been such a delay for Chapter 2. I’ve been super busy with school and dance and other activities and all that. Also, I decided about halfway through my original Chapter 2 that I was going to alternate between Virgil and Roman’s perspectives so I had to start a new chapter from scratch. But that means that now-Chapter 3 has already been started, so hopefully I’ll have it done by Friday this week!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of a possible fight/hospital. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,919

anyway, here it is!

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CHAPTER TWO

Roman Princeford is absolutely, completely, terribly humiliated. 

He can’t stop blushing in embarrassment, and it only makes it worse when the classes are boring and he can't stop his mind from drifting to that morning. Like now, for example. 

Stupid, stupid Roman, he chastises himself. Why didn’t you notice him there, you oblivious dumbass? 

He groans and buries his head in his hands. 

“Is something wrong, Roman?” the math teacher asks. “Do you need help?” Yes, but not the help you can give me, Roman thinks. He takes a breath and fixes a dazzling smile on. 

“No, Mrs. Perry, I’m doing fine! Thank you for your offer of assistance, however!” he exclaims in his usual lyrical way. Roman always makes an effort to seem like he’s reading off a script, especially one where there’s a heroic prince he can play. It always makes him feel better when he plays a part. Then, Roman can imagine that he is the character. The same qualities, traits, life, everything. 

He can ignore how stupid he is and pretend he’s a brave, dashing prince. The princes in stories would never have the problems Roman’s been having. 

Mrs. Perry walks off, rolling her eyes, not without fondness, and Roman turns back to his math. Shoving his mind out of fantasy, he tries to solve the problems. It seems like he’s gotten nowhere by the time the bell rings. Throwing his paper into his bag, he hurries out of the room. 

“Heya, Roman!” Patton Hart, his best friend, calls through the throng of people. Roman slows down so Patton can catch up. “How ya doing?”

“Uhh, Patton, I am a disaster!” Roman proclaims. “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“Oh no! What did you do this time?” Patton asks jokingly as they enter the classroom. History is one of the few classes they have together, so they always walk from fifth period there. 

“I was telling a story, a great one, mind you, and knocked over a poor, innocent student!” Roman throws down his bag next to his seat and plops into the hard plastic chair. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was who I hit!” Pausing for dramatic effect, Roman finishes, “It was Virgil! I knocked over Virgil Tempest!”

Patton’s mouth forms a small ‘o’. He starts to laugh, but after seeing how embarrassed Roman is, he stops and places a hand on his shoulder. “What did he say?”

“Nothing much. Just some mumble-jumble. But now I can’t stop thinking about him! I didn’t get a single thing done in math! It’s terrible, Patton. My entire life is all going to go downhill from here! I’ll become ineligible for the play because I’m failing all my classes! I won’t be able to graduate, and then I’ll have to work.” He shudders. “That’s it! I’m done for. I’ll never accomplish anything!” He collapses back against the chair for dramatic effect. He knows he’s being very extra, but honestly, what else does anyone expect at this point? He’s Roman Princeford, after all. 

If only I were the brave, loud, daring person the whole school thinks I am.

“Woah, woah, woah there buddy!” Patton comforts. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You aren’t going to fail high school. You just gotta tell him how you feel! Then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

Roman looks at Patton in shock.

“Tell him how I feel?” Patton nods, encouraging. Roman sits back up. “And make a fool of myself yet again? No thank you! He hates me, you know that! I’d be better off flunking high school! How could I look into those beautiful brown eyes in that beautiful face and tell him I had a crush on him! Impossible, I say! Impossible!” He throws out his hands, but then remembers that the exact same movement started this whole thing. Quickly, his hands fall back to his sides.

Patton chuckles. “It’s not as hard as you think, Ro-ro! You’ll do great. And I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” Roman sighs. “Hey, why don’t you—”

“Boys in the back,” the history teacher says, shooting a look at Roman and Patton, “it’s time for class. Pay attention please.” They both nod at turn away from each other and towards the board. 

Roman doesn’t pay attention to a single word of the lecture. All he can think about is Virgil’s freckles and his eyes and his lips and his laugh, which Roman had only heard briefly while walking past him but loved nonetheless. How come I’ve never noticed that Virgil had freckles before? he wonders. Goddammit, is that boy just going to keep getting more and more amazing? 

Roman chuckles to himself, thinking, Oh my god, I’m so gay. Deciding he should probably start listening to what the teacher is saying, he shoves any and all thoughts of Virgil from his mind and fills the gaps with information about the buildup to World War 1.  

After class, Patton rushes up to him. He pulls Roman to the side of the hallway in a little nook where the row of lockers end. 

“After school, you should come with me to this coffee shop,” Patton says, a little smile on his face. Roman knows that smile. He’s up to no good. 

“Why?” His voice rises with suspicion at the end of the word. 

“My lab partner, Logan Wise, you know him, said that we should meet up to work on our project after school.” A blush rises to Patton’s cheeks causing Roman to smirk as he figures it out. 

“Someone’s got a cru-ush,” Roman teases, voice sing-songy and laughing. 

“That’s not the point,” Patton says, blushing even harder. 

“Fine.” Roman lowers his voice to a whisper. “But you can’t hide it from me. I’m the love whisperer, remember?” Throughout their years of high school, Roman had been responsible for setting up many couples. It’s gotten to a point where almost every day, he has someone walk up to him, asking him to help set them up with whoever their crush happens to be. 

“Well, maybe I have a crush, but so do you. And you do know who Logan’s best friend is, right?” Patton responds, that same mischievous smile. Roman chuckles, looking around in a fond mix of exasperation and amusement. 

“Virgil,” he finally says. Patton’s smile grows wider. “Look, I told you. I can’t talk to him. I’ll just make a fool of myself!”

“Fine,” Patton says. “Suit yourself.” He pats Roman on the shoulder and starts to walk away. Before he’s completely out of sight, he turns and yells, “Just think about it, okay?” Roman rolls his eyes at his friend’s shameless attempts to set him up and heads to choir. 

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

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Roman shuts his locker with a bang. He joins the flood of people heading towards the front doors. He spills out of the school and heads towards his car. Once he’s only a few yards away, he unlocks the doors and dumps his things inside the passenger door. After waving to a few other kids on their way out that he knows, he gets into the driver’s side.

Alone, finally, Roman allows himself to drop the fake smile. Ugh, you goddamn idiot. How did you not notice him there? Now he hates you even more. Good going, Roman! Love whisperer, yeah right.

If only I could just talk to him…

Shoving his embarrassment and frustration aside, he starts the car and pulls out of the school, heading home. His route home winds its way through the downtown streets. Roman is so used to driving the same streets, he’s startled to notice something unordinary. 

A few cars ahead of him is Patton’s silver car. What is he doing over here? Patton lives on the opposite side of downtown as Roman, and while the town is relatively small, it’s still strange. Roman is sure he’s never seen Patton drive this way home before. 

Turning onto 4th Street, Roman watches Patton, now directly ahead of him, park in an open spot in front of one of the little shops lining the street. The sign above says “The Sanders Cafe” in swirly cursive lettering. A decal of a little cupcake sitting next to a cup of coffee accompanies it. 

Oh, right, Roman remembers. Patton and Logan were meeting up to work on their chemistry thingy. 

And Virgil is probably going to be there. No matter how much he tries to block the thought, it still shows up. Roman has tried to get Virgil out of his mind, but it never works. He always pops up when Roman least expects it. Frankly, Roman finds it quite frustrating. 

Lost in thought, Roman turns one intersection too early. “I guess I’ll just go around the block,” he sighs. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to crashing when he got home. The detour would only cost about 5 minutes but still. Annoying.

Roman’s phone buzzes in the center console while he’s waiting to turn back onto 4th Street, the one with the cafe on it. One quick glance down at it tells Roman it’s from Patton. Checking the road to make sure he has the time, he looks back to read what it says. 

“Patton…” he groans. 

“I think you should come to the cafe with me. I’m waiting outside. Just give it a chance, kiddo!” reads the text message. However much Roman would like to deny it, he does want to go with Patton. On impulse, he finds a parking spot and pulls in. Patton is parked a few spots down, still sitting in his car. He hasn’t noticed Roman yet, and Roman’s glad for that. 

“Come on, Roman,” he says, trying to give himself a pep talk. “Think about what a prince would do. He’d charge in there without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter what would happen because it would be in the name of love. You got this. What’s the worst that could happen, besides Virgil hating the sight of you so much he instantly fights you the second he sees you and you lose and have to go to the hospital and become the laughing stock of the school because while under anesthesia you admit your feelings for Virgil and now everyone knows and—”

A knock on the driver’s side window cuts Roman’s worrying off. When Roman looks up, he sees Patton’s grinning face. The other boy waves enthusiastically and gives him a thumbs up. 

You got this. Be a prince, Roman. It’s in your name, after all. Taking a deep breath and clenching his fists in determination, Roman grabs his phone off the console and double checks to make sure he has his wallet. 

Patton practically assaults him the moment he steps outside the car, talking in a rapid stream of words, but Roman can’t hear anything over the ever-increasing beating of his heart. They walk up to the front door, Patton ahead of Roman, still rambling about something from foods class. 

The moment they walk in, the little silver bell dinging above them, Roman forgets all his worries because there Virgil is, sitting in a booth with another boy, — Logan, probably — his hair falling in front of his face, teeth gnawing on his lip in concentration and Oh god, that boy is beautiful. 

And then Virgil looks up at them, and Roman swears he can feel his heart drop all the way to the ground.

[thatonerandomfan4]

Rockwell’s History [READ WARNINGS]

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

Fandom: Madness Combat

Characters: Dr. Crackpot, Dr. Hofnarr, Dr. Jebediah Christoff, Phobos, Hank, Sanford, Deimos, 2BDamned, Jebus, Tricky, Rockwell (My OC), Rockwell’s Parents

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Gore, Attacking, Detailed Gore Scenes, Cursing, Transphobia, Crying, Injuries, Very Sensitive Topics, Angst, Heavy Angst, Long Story

Summary: Talking About Rockwell’s Backstory And How He Became Part Of The Madcom Group.

Word Count: 2,681

Notes: Rockwell Is Trans. His Original Name Was Roxannie (Pronounced As Roxanne) Roxannie Will Be In The First Half Of The Fic Until She Makes The Transition.

If You Feel Very Uncomfortable/Dislike The Topics That Are Going To Be In This Fic, Please Leave The Fic Now So You Don’t Have To Experience It And Triggers You. 

Also, If You Dislike Fics That Involves Peoples Made Up Characters (OCs), Then You Are Welcome To Leave The Fic. 

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Roxannie Woke Up To Her Alarm Clock And Quickly Got Dressed, Heading Downstairs To Get Breakfast. Her Mother Greeted Her With A “Good Morning” And A Warm Smile. Roxannie Sat At The Table, Greeting Her Father. She Took One Bite Of Her Cereal Until The Table Was Knocked Over. With A Frightened Look, She Looked At Her Father And Screamed. His Head Was Chopped Clean Off With His Chest Wide Open, Revealing That His Internal Organs Were Tampered With. She Was About To Cry Until She Heard Her Mother Scream. 

Instead Of Staying At The Table, She Ran To The Room Her Mother Was In. As Soon As Roxannie Stepped Foot In The Living Room, She Was Met With A Horrifying Sight.Her Mother Was Brutally Cut In Half With Her Face Missing From Her Head. The Top Half Of Her Body Hung From The Ceiling By A Sword Which Impaled Her. The Bottom Half Of Her Body Was On The Floor, In A Pile With Her Internal Organs. Annie Almost Gagged At The Sight, Until She Saw The Man Who Had Caused Her Parent’s Deaths. A Tall Dark Figure With Red Eyes Approached Her With A Hammer. It Grabbed Her Firmly By The Neck And Bashed Her Head Twice, Revealing Her Brain. 

It Left Her On The Ground Struggling To Stay Alive, Leaving Only A Tablet Behind. Rox Used It To Contact For Help, But Could Barely Stay Conscious Due To Her Brain Being Exposed. Luckily, There Was A Fast Response. The Mysterious Person Was Immediately Able To Track Her Location And Tell Her To Stay Where She Is. She Agreed And Just Laid In Front Of The Tablet, Trying Not To Lose Consciousness. About 45 Minutes Had Passed So Far, And She Was Starting To Feel Her Eyelids Get Heavy.

A Man Rushed In And Immediately Injected Her With Some Type Of Medicine. She Immediately Struggled To Stand Up, Before Being Forced To Sit Down. Her Head Was Bandaged Properly Before She Was Helped Up. She Didn’t Even Get A Chance To Thank The Strange Man Because He Immediately Rushed Her Out Of The House And Into His Vehicle. The Whole Car Ride Was Quiet Except For Roxannie’s Cries, Mourning The Death Of Her Parents. 

She Couldn’t Even Form Sentences Or Explain To The Man That Saved Her What Happened Because Of How Upset She Was. He Felt Bad For Her, Trying To Give Her Anything She Could Keep Her Mind Busy With Until They Got To The Place. She Didn’t Really Want Anything Though, Other Than To Let Out What She Was Experiencing Now. Once They Arrived To Their Destination, She Was Immediately Brought Into A Lab Where A Bunch Of Scientists Were Working. The Man Led Her Into A Room Where A Small Chubby Man Chatted With A Tall, Stern Looking Guy.

Dr. ??: “Hofnarr, Christoff. I Uh….Got The Child.”

The Two Men Looked Over And Immediately Rushed To Roxannie. They Hugged Her And Did Their Best To Comfort Her In Any Way Possible In That Moment.

Dr. Christoff: “Thank You, Crackpot. We’ll Let You Know If We Need Anything Else.”

Crackpot Nodded And Left The Room, Leaving The 3 Alone As Christoff Shut The Door. Hofnarr Tried To Calm Her Down And Talk With Her. It Was Very Hard To Understand The Girl Through Her Crying And Incoherent Words, Even For Him. Hofnarr Just Held Her Close And Consulted Her, Doing His Best To Calm Her Down. Christoff Sat Down Next To The Two And Offered Rox With A Glass Of Water. She Took The Water And Drank Half Of The Glass, Keeping The Drink In Her Hand While The Two Older Men Did Their Best To Help Her Relax.

Once She Was Calm Enough, They Finally Got Her To Explain What Had Happened. She Told Them Every Detail From This Morning, Keeping It Short And Sweet At The End. Hofnarr And Christoff Frowned, Hugging And Comforting Her Again. It Was Very Hard For Someone To Go Through All That Trauma, Especially For Someone At Her Age. Hell, The Kid Was Only 14. She Barely Knew How To Even React Or See Something Like That. She Needed A Lot Of Therapy To Get Past That Traumatic Event.

Hofnarr: “Hey Christoff. Do You Think Phobos Will Let Us Keep Her Here With Us?”

Christoff: “Maybe, With A Lot Of Bribing.”

Roxannie: “F-Forgive Me For I-Interrputing Your C-Conversation...But Wh-Who’s Ph-Phobos?”

Hofnarr: “Oh! Don’t Worry, You Aren’t Interrupting Anything. And Phobos Is Our Boss. We Need All Permission From Him To Do Anything Around Here.”

Christoff: “Kinda Sucky, But We’re Even Lucky If He’s In A Good Enough Mood To Pay Us.”

They Chat For A Bit Before Heading To Phobos’ Office, Staying Together The Whole Trip. Once They Reached Their Destination, They All Greeted Phobos Before Saying Anything About Roxannie. Phobos Obviously Had To Ask First And The Two Scientists Explained The Whole Situation. Phobos Took A Minute To Think Before Accepting Their Request To Allow Her To Stay. Ending It With “I Don’t Care How, But As Long As She’s Not A Big Distraction To You Two And Works With What She Can.” Of Course They All Had To Agree To That.

They All Headed Out The Door And Back To The Breakroom. Hofnarr Figured She Was Still Hungry And Offered To Make Her A Snack And A Drink. Christoff Just Offered Her To Stay With Them So She Has A Place To Sleep And Stay Instead Of The Lab. Rox Agreed To Both And Walked With The Two Men. On The Way Back To The Lab, Hofnarr Was Smiling, Gently Gripping Onto Rox’s Hand. Christoff Took Notice Of This And Chuckled. He Watched His Husband For A While. It Was Only Now When He Asked About His Sudden Cheery Mood.

Christoff: “What’s Got You All Giddy, Hoffy?”

Hofnarr: “We Have A Child Of Our Own Christoff! Aren’t You Excited To Be A Parent?”

Christoff Just Smiled As Hofnarr Went On About The Wonders Of Raising A Child Of Their Own. He Goes On Fantasies About Vacation, Family Outings, Family Dinners And Other Things. Roxannie Gripped Her New Parent’s Hands Gently, Smiling Softly. She Was Going To Start A New Family And These Were Her New Parents. She Didn’t Mind That, She Loved Supporting People Who Were In Relationships With The Same Gender.

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

A Few Years Later…

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

Hofnarr: “Rox, You Ready?”

Roxannie: “Yeah I’m Coming!”

She Placed Her Bandana On And Adjusted It To Be Over Her Bandages, Flattening Out Her Lab Coat. She Turned The Light Off In The Bathroom And Headed Downstairs To The Door, Greeting Her Two Dads As They Hugged Her. They Headed Towards The Lab While Hofnarr Was Going On About How Lucky They Were To Be A Family. Christoff Occasionally Threw In A Few Things, Chuckling At Hofnarr’s Responses.

Once They Got To The Labs, Everything Seemed Normal Except For A Few Stressed Out Scientists. The Shaking Scientists Greeted The 3 And Gave Them Information To Keep Safe. Hofnarr Took Roxannie With Him As He Usually Does For The Morning. Christoff Set Out To His Office, Looking Around At The Messed Up Experiments. He Scoffed At The Thought Of Phobos Actually Trying To Be Successful With This….Project. Christoff And Hofnarr Agreed That This Whole “Project Nexus” Thingy Would Not Be On For Long. Someone Would Definitely Stop Him, Even If It Had To Be One Of Them. 

Not Even A Minute Later, Hofnarr Had A Worried Look On His Face As The Sound Of Gunshots Could Be Heard From The Other Lab. Rox Stayed Close To Hofnarr Just In Case Anything Happened. They Kept Hearing Gunshots From The Other Lab, Not Knowing What On Earth Was Going Down. Hofnarr Was Upset, What Was Happening To His Husband? Was He Ok? Was He Hurt? He Held Onto Rox As He Tried Not To Cry About The Thoughts That Were Running Through His Mind.

Hofnarr: “I Hope Christoff Is Ok. I Don’t Want To Lose Him Like We Almost Lost You.”

Roxannie: “I-I’m Sure He’ll Be Ok, Dad. And Hey, If I’m Still Here, He’ll Still Be Here.” *She Hugged Him Close. Hofnarr Gave Her A Soft Yet Sad Smile.*

Hofnarr: “I Sure Hope So.”

They Waited About 30 Minutes To Half An Hour Until Someone Entered The Room. As The Two Turned Around, Hofnarr Rushed To Hug The Man. It Was Christoff, And Thankfully He Wasn’t Injured That Badly As He Though. Christoff Went Over To Rox And Hugged Her, Handing Her A Gun As He Also Gave Hofnarr A Gun. He Wanted To Keep His Family Safe While This Whole Messed Up Thing Was Happening.

Hofnarr: “You’ve Made Quite A Mess Christoff.”

Christoff: “They’ve Gone Too Far. If We Don’t Stop This Now...”

A Few Agents Entered The Room, And Christoff Killed Them With The Help Of His Husband And Daughter. Hofnarr Sweated And Gulped, Keeping Roxannie Close To Him.

Hofnarr: “I See We Have No Other Choice…”

They Murdered The Agents Who Kept Coming And Headed Out. Hofnarr Unlocked All The Control Panels As The Continued Through The Lab, Killing Any Agents, Zombies Or Any Failed Experiments. It Took A While Until They Got The Whole Place Cleared But They Were Able To Do It Without Much Harm Going To Them. They Got To The Last Room With The Control Panel And Hofnarr Started Getting Worried. He Looked At Christoff While They Got Rid Of The Last Few Agents With Rox Guarding The Door.

Hofnarr: “Ya Know Phobos Will Finish Us For This.”

Christoff Looked At Hofnarr After Shooting The Last Agent, Ending The Life Of The Betrayer.

Christoff: “Phobos Better Watch His Back..”

Hofnarr Unlocked The Last Control Panel And Looked Around The Room. He Started Heading Out After Christoff And Roxannie, Staying Close To Them While They Walked. Eventually Hofnarr Took The Lead Of The Group To Make Sure That The Other Two Were Safe. He Opened The Door Outside For Them Both, And Closed It After They Were Far Ahead Of Hofnarr. He Followed Them And Took The Lead After A Few Minutes. He Then Looked At Christoff As They Approached Phobos’ Tower.

Hofnarr: “Everything Depends On You Now.” *He Used His Key Card To Unlock The Door And Let Christoff In, Keeping Roxannie Back* “Good Luck, Old Friend..”

They Watched Christoff Walk Into The Tower, And Headed Back To The Lab. Hofnarr Kept His Daughter Close To Him, Trying To Keep Her From Breaking Down Like How She Was When They First Met. They Knew Christoff Was Only Doing This For Their Own Good, And To Stop This Whole Thing From Ruining Nevada Even More. They Walked Into The Lab And Immediately Went To The Breakroom, Setting Their Weapons Down By The Table When They Got There.

They Got Some Food And Drinks While They Chatted, Sitting Down So They Wouldn’t Fall If One Was Upset Or Panicked. They Chatted About Christoff And How….Cold He Looked When He Walked Into Hofnarr’s Lab. Rox Was Scared By His Look, As It Was Her First Time Seeing Him Like That. Hofnarr Had Already Known This Look So He Was Pretty Used To It. 

They Kept The Conversation Going By Talking About Other Stuff Like Work, Family Life, Dinners, And Especially That One Dinner Night. That Was The First Time Rox Had Seen Hofnarr Angry, And Not A Playful Or Slightly Irritated Angry. It Wasn’t His Fault They Were Banned From That Restaurant Though. The Boy Walked Up To Rox And Went “Tsk. You Wanna Be Trans? That’s Gross. You’re A Girl And You Will Always Be A Girl.” Hofnarr Was Just Defending His Daughter...By Attacking The Boy With A Chair.

They Were At The Lab For About An Hour To An Hour And A Half Just Chatting And Wandering Around. After A Bit, They Headed Outside And Met Up With Christoff Again.The Only Difference About Him Was That He Was Wearing The Key Fragment On His Head. Jeb Greeted The Two And Lead Them Back Inside The Lab. This Was Going To Be A Strange Experience For All Of Them.

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

A Few More Long Years Later…

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

Sanford And Deimos Turn The Corner, Shooting The Agents That Tried Approaching Them. The Two Headed Into The Room And Killed All The Agents In Sight. Then They Saw Her….Roxannie On The Floor Unconscious. They Both Inspected Her Body And Picked Her Up, Keeping Her With Them. They Finished With Their Mission And Brought Her Back To Base. The Brought Her To Hank And 2B Where They Inspected Her Body. 

After She Woke Up, She Made A Request To The Doctor. She Wanted To Be A Man. The Doctor Hesitated Before Agreeing, Putting Her Under Anesthesia. He Waited A Few Minutes Before Finally Getting To Work. He Wrapped Him Up And Successfully Did Both Top And Bottom Surgery. Doc Finished With Replacing The Bandage On His Head, Cleaning The Wound Before Putting Anything On There. 

After That, Doc Gave Rockwell Medicine To Help With The Pain. He Helped Rocky Walk And Get Used To Using The Bathroom. After That, Doc Gave Rockwell Some Clothes To Wear: A White Shirt With Ripped Sleeves, A Black Vest. A Belt To Go Over His Chest, Black Pants And Another Belt To Keep Them Up, Black Boots, Goggles With One Side Red And The Other Black And A Gas Mask. He Also Put His Hair Into A PonyTail.

Rockwell Put Everything On And Headed Outside, Ordered By Hank, To Fight The Clown. Rocky Took A Look At The Clown And…….Wait….That Lab Coat Looks So Familiar…..Was It..No It Couldn’t Be….HOFNARR?! But..He Looked Way Different Than Before.

Tricky: “WHO ARE YOU?! NEVERMIND THAT- CLOWN KILLS YOU!!”

Rockwell: “No Wait-!”

Tricky Whacked Rocky Pretty Hard In The Face, His Gas Mask Had To Be Removed. After Rockwell Removed His Goggles, Tricky Gasped And Dropped His Stop Sign..He Looked Like He Wanted To Cry.

Tricky: “Ro-Roxannie…?”

Rockwell, Holding His Jaw In Place: “It’th Rockwell Now, D-Dad.”

Tricky Immediately Hugged His Child, Healing His Jaw And Forming A Metal Plate Over The Injury. Rockwell Hugged Tricky Back, Both Squeezing The Shit Out Of Each Other. Tricky Kept His Son Close, Until They Heard Footsteps Approach From Behind Rockwell. It Was Jeb….Well...Christoff But He Didn’t Look That Different. 

Jebus: “Tricky, What Are You Doing?! He’s On Hank’s Side!” *He Took Out His Binary Sword, And Swung It Up*

Tricky Backed Away And Ran To Jeb, Trying To Stop Him.

Tricky: “JEB NO HURT HIM!! GUY IS-”

It Was Too Late. Jeb Swung And Cut Rockwell Almost In Half.

Tricky: “Roxannie-”

Jeb Looked Frightened. Oh God, What Had He Done? He Removed His Sword And Watched Rockwell’s Limp Body Fall To The Ground. The Savior Broke Out In Tears. He Just Murdered His Own Child, Or He Thought He Did. He Was Relieved When He Heard Rockwell. He Was Still Alive! How? That Didn’t Matter, He Was Just Happy His Son Was Alive Still.

Jeb Rushed Over To Rockwell And Healed Him, Summoning Bandages And Wrapping Him Up. He Was Still Crying From What He Had Done. Tricky Joined Them Both, Starting A Group Hug With All Of Them As They Reunited. Sanford, Deimos, Hank And 2B Rushed Out As Tricky Helped Rockwell Up And Jeb Healed Him Again.

Sanford: “Oh Cool, So I Guess We Can Call A Truce.”

Deimos And 2B Agreed, Hank Didn’t. Wimbleton Didn’t Like The Idea Of Living With His Enemies, Especially If They Act Nice And Turn On Them In The End. Hank Disagreed And Left To Blow Off Some Steam, It Was Gonna Take A Long While To Convince Him. Sanford And Deimos Ended Up Adopting Rockwell While Tricky And Jeb Readopted Him. Rockwell Now Lives With The Crew, With Having 4 Parents Who Support And Care About Him, 2B Who Takes Care Of His Wounds And Trans Stuff, And Hank...

[magicofthepen]

For the character thingy, romana and leela?? ❤

ROMANA - I’m going to answer for Romana I, since I already did Romana II!

favorite thing about them: so I fell in love with Romana I instantly when I watched The Ribos Operation. I was like “wait no one told me that Romana’s basically a recent graduate who always thrived in school but has now suddenly been thrust into the Real World and is a bit of a mess” and oh my god why is she so relatable, also I love that about her. I love that she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing, and her academic brilliance doesn’t necessarily help in the situations she’s finding herself in, but she keeps trying and learning, so by the end of season 16 she’s much more confident and capable on her own than she was when she started. I just absolutely adore the premise of her character and how she develops during the key to time quest. also her banter skills are so excellent. (….this wasn’t one thing whoops. 😄)

least favorite thing about them: I feel like it’s something about how she’s portrayed in the Gallifrey audios, but I can’t quite articulate what? but I feel like somehow, some of the things I really liked about her on TV (her witty fun banter, her determination even when she’s out of her depth) aren’t represented as much when we get glimpses of Actual Romana I (not Pandora or an alternate universe version). idk if this is even fully true, it’s just….she doesn’t quite have the same vibe as the character I remember from the TV show (but this is also tricky because the Lies scene, the Matrix projection in Lies (which *isn’t* really her technically) and the remains of her consciousness in the body that Pandora’s using are the only times we get Actual Romana I - which isn’t that much time to express all the nuances of her character.)

(continuing to skip the favorite line question because it’s too hard)

brOTP: her and the Doctor!! (like I said in the Romana II ask, I used to ship them more, but lately I’ve been more into a platonic interpretation.) I just as instantly fell for their dynamic in the Ribos Operation - two people with very different personalities who don’t get along but are forced to work together and gradually become friends?? this is exactly the kind of relationship arc that I adore. Their banter and snark is So Good (I was so entertained by their interactions in Ribos Operation that my brain refused to pay attention to anything but their scenes, and I ended up having issues following the plot later oops). And I love their growing respect and care for each other - how they go from being mutually dismissive of each other to valuing each other and being a solid Team and just really genuinely liking each other! their friendship is just Very Good (…..and now I really want to rewatch season 16….I’ve only seen it like one and a half times but I loved it very much….)

OTP: I don’t think I have any ships with Romana I that I would consider an ‘otp’? (the closest would be her and the Doctor since I have sometimes shipped them and I adore their relationship in general)

nOTP: Brax/Romana again….and tbh with Romana I it’s more of an actual nOTP (rather than ‘kinda nOTP, kinda ‘it’s complicated’’) because this is the time frame when she’s actually his student and so my discomfort with student/teacher relationships really rears its head (although there’s still one fic out there that I just think is so well-written.....but it does show the relationship as very unhealthy). 

random headcanon: .....so sorry to continue Sartia posting, but oops the first thing that popped into my head is my new maybe-unrealistic headcanon that Sartia was Romana’s first kiss. in a teenage “I’m curious and want to try this thing and you’re the only person I hang out with, but it doesn’t mean anything....or does it??” way. (.....this is so self-indulgent in such a terrible way rip.)

unpopular opinion: Armageddon Factor is my favorite Key to Time story! (I gather this is an unpopular opinion in Doctor Who Fandom At Large, it doesn’t seem to be liked as much as some of the earlier stories in the season.) technically I’ve only seen it once and it was a couple years ago, but I remember loving it as a Romana story, there were a lot of really interesting character bits for her!

song i associate with them: hmm I don’t really have one? my Romana playlist is specifically for Romana II in Big Finish so....yeah.

favorite picture of them: anything with her Ribos Operation outfit (with the full cloak), it’s iconic and beautiful! on a similar note, I love this Romana I art by @volucris-liga, it’s the first Romana fanart I ever reblogged and it’s so pretty!

more under the cut!

LEELA

favorite thing about them: her resilience and her kindness. Leela goes through so much grief and pain, she has her world upended again and again, she never really finds a place where she belongs. and yet she still keeps choosing to love, choosing to keep fighting for what she believes in, choosing to rebuild again and again. and sometimes it’s really hard and she doesn’t want to go on….but she does, and she finds moments of happiness again. and that strength is really powerful. and no matter how cruel the universe (and other people) are to her, she is still relentlessly kind - she listens, she protects, she wants to help, she cares. 

least favorite thing about them: I mean, the “savage” stereotype that her character references is a racist/anti-indigenous trope (especially the whole dynamic of the Doctor trying to “civilize” her ugh). and I hate that characters keep calling her “savage” (even when they’re the Bad Guys, it’s still bringing up this trope again and again, and it’s even worse when it’s the Good Guys). why are they still doing this.

brOTP: see all characters listed under otp, every relationship that I ship is also an incredibly important friendship in Leela’s life and I love all of them <33 as far as relationships that I see as entirely non-romantic….I really love the version of Leela and Ace’s relationship that exists in my head (and in fandom) - they didn’t get to interact enough in the audios, but I absolutely think they were really close, because of their shared experiences and the ways their personalities mesh. (I feel like I should also say the Doctor here, but tbh I don’t remember her TV stories that well, so I don’t really have a solid memory of what their relationship was like.) and of course, Leela’s parental relationship with Rayo is very important to me!

OTP: once again, ot3 my beloved <33 and Leela/Romana first and foremost (I already rambled about them here, so I’m just going to second everything I said earlier). 

and I also ship Leela/Narvin, although I’m not quite as invested in that pairing? (due to a combination of ‘Romana is my favorite character and so I’m just more interested in her relationships with other characters,’ ‘I joined the fandom when things were pretty much all Leela/Narvin all the time (I say with great respect and affection for the artists and writers putting out amazing content for that ship) so I was motivated to write fic primarily for R/L and N/R to balance out the ot3 content,’ ‘apparently I have a contrary streak with Gallifrey and the more the writers push a romantic interpretation of a relationship, the less interested I am in actually shipping it,’ and ‘I’m not really into Leela/Narvin as a pairing on its own - although I do love a lot of fic that portrays them that way bc it’s just very well-written.’) But just. how they form a grudging alliance for Romana’s sake and then develop genuine respect for each other and then build this really solid foundation of teamwork and fondness and care and really relax and feel comfortable around each other….the way they become ride-or-die for each other and just trust and love each other so much….it’s Very Good!! (And I did love writing scenes with the two of them in Call It Home - I might not focus on them, but I do genuinely love their relationship.) 

And of course Leela/Veega <33….I debated if they even interacted enough in the actual audios for me to consider it an otp, but I love the idea of their relationship and the story of them in my head so much?? going to link to this post because it really captures my feelings about them - they’ve both been through so much grief and pain by the time they meet, they’ve both lost people they love before, so the idea of them choosing to love each other and build something together against the odds is just. very powerful. plus I have a whole playlist for the family they’ve built together, which is a strong indication that I really love this ship. 😊

nOTP: Leela/Andred. last time I answered an ask meme about Leela, I had this complicated response about how I hated Leela/Andred when I watched Invasion of Time (bc it’s so abrupt and arbitrary), and then Louise Jameson’s voice acting Convinced Me To Care because oh she really did love him....alas i am a Leela/Andred detractor at heart, and I have been nudged back to my default state by re-listening….I simply hate how he treats Leela in Gallifrey.

random headcanon: I really like the idea of Leela being more politically involved in her own right after they all return from the Axis. She’s just spent a lot of time leading a group of people who don’t have a voice in the government, fighting for their rights against the established injustices of Gallifreyan society. I don’t think she’d easily slip back into only being Romana’s bodyguard after experiencing more political autonomy on the other Gallifrey. What exactly this looks like in practice I’m not sure about - in my one fic ‘verse, I wrote about her being more directly involved with the Academy as a political liaison and guest tutor, and also advocating to Romana for policies that would benefit those who live outside the city on their home Gallifrey. but there’s probably a lot of options to explore here!

unpopular opinion: hmm I don’t think this is necessarily unpopular but idk and I want to talk about it: even though Leela identifies so strongly as a warrior, a “happy ending” for her would, I think, need to involve getting away from fighting. too often she throws herself into a fight to try to avoid thinking about how much she’s hurting, and it doesn’t work, it doesn’t stop the pain. and in the Time War, she’s tied her identity so strongly to war (it’s inevitable, inescapable, and she will Fight and Defend because that’s all she has left). there’s a difference between “I am a warrior” and “all I am is a warrior,” and Leela’s slid too far into the second one, and she needs to untangle her own identity from war to heal. 

song i associate with them: Freedom by Karmina (it’s a song about going on defiantly in the face of heartbreak -  “Tearing my room apart, I’m starting over” / “Take my pride I can still survive I’ve got my freedom” / “Hunt me down you’ll never find me now that I’ve got my freedom”)

favorite picture of them: the first one that came to mind is this gorgeous art by @laurelhach (which I didn’t realize was based on a picture until I stumbled across the original picture and was like oh my god!! it looks exactly like the art!!)

[callboxkat]

(Un)Broken - part 3

Author’s note: I’m back! It’ll be at least a week before you guys get another part, but have this one for now. :)

Warnings: self deprecation, headache mention, doctor mention, injury mention, food mention

Word count: 1579

Masterpost in the notes!

...

Patton walked into his apartment and quietly shut the door behind him. He slid the lock into place, then leaned back against the door with a soft sigh. He didn’t know why he was upset. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? He’d spent the evening bowling with his friends, after all.

He just kept remembering that moment, when he’d cheered about Logan knocking down those two pins—because Logan had been having a really hard time, and it was the first time they’d hung out together having fun like they had before his injury, and Patton had just been so excited to see him finally hit some pins! Logan, though, had clearly not been nearly as excited. Patton had seen how he rolled his eyes. Probably thinking that Patton was making fun of him. But Patton would never do that—Logan was one of his favorite people in the world!

Patton traipsed over to his sofa and threw himself onto it heavily, facedown on the cushions.

He knew that it was dumb. It was just one little thing, one little eye roll. It just hurt him to think that Logan might have thought poorly of him, even for a second.

He was distracted from his wallowing when his phone chimed its text tone at him. Patton reluctantly rolled partway over, just enough to grab his phone from his pocket and bring it up to his face.

Oh! It was Logan! Patton quickly swiped to open the message. It was a group text, sent out to all of them.

Logan: I greatly enjoyed our excursion to the bowling alley this afternoon. I hope that everyone else had as pleasant of a time as I did.

A second message popped up a minute later.

Logan: My apologies if I somehow lessened anyone’s enjoyment of the evening. I understand that especially while I am still in recovery, I am not the most ‘fun’ person to be around. Thank you for inviting me along.

Patton started furiously typing, but a series of other messages were already flooding in from Joan, Virgil, and Roman, all telling Logan that they’d had fun too, and yelling at him for implying that he’d somehow made the evening any less fun. Patton sent off his own message anyway, and as soon as he did, the notification that Talyn was typing their own response came up. Good. Logan didn’t get to talk bad about himself! Not on their watch!

Several long minutes went by, and then Logan responded.

Logan: Perhaps I misread the situation. Thank you for your assurances. It will not be necessary to ‘march over to my house’, ‘physically fite’ me, or hug me so tight that you ‘wring out the nerdiness’

Logan: Additionally, Virgil, I feel the need to remind you that Patton may decide to physically fight you if you continue to insist that gloominess is your area of expertise.

Patton paused, then scrolled up. He must have missed that message in the barrage of notifications. He found it—Virgil didn’t get to be self-deprecating either!—then scrolled back down to reply.

Patton: I will! I’ll fite both of you if I have to!!!

Virgil: Ok Pat chill, no fighting necessary

Patton: Good!

Roman: We should go bowling again. You all only got a glimpse of my skills.

Roman: (Virgils dont interact)

Virgil’s and Logan’s replies came through simultaneously.

Logan: I do think I would enjoy another such outing.

Virgil: You can’t stop me

The chat devolved into banter after that, mostly between Virgil and Roman. Patton just read the messages as they came through, not replying, until the others had to leave.

…

Monday rolled around all too quickly for Patton’s taste. He didn’t particularly want to get up early today, to go to class—one of them was math, after all—but he supposed there were bright sides. He did also have an art class today, and he would get to see his friends at lunch! He just preferred Tuesdays and Thursdays to the other three days of the school week because he had his actual classes with his friends.

Patton struggled through his morning class, which felt like it was moving at a glacial pace. He felt like he’d been there for so long. But finally, the bell rang; and with immense relief, he traipsed down to the cafeteria to meet his friends.

“I don’t blame you,” Roman said when Patton had finished sharing today’s math class woes. They and Virgil were sitting together, eating lunch in the cafeteria. “When are you ever going to need to know how to calculate a third derivative?”

“Exactly,” Patton sighed, putting his head down on the cafeteria table. “But it’s required, for my major….”

“You—you could always ask Logan for help,” Virgil suggested after a moment. “He’s pretty good at math.”

“Uh, yeah, I sure hope he is,” Roman said, his tone of voice mimicking that of a certain well-known six-second-video. “He’s a math major.”

Patton shook his head, but he did so without lifting it off the table, so it was more like he just rolled it morosely from side to side. “I don’t wanna bother him. He’s still got his concussion thingy to deal with.”

“C’mon, Pat, it couldn’t hurt to ask,” Roman said. “Besides, he could do derivatives in his sleep. Concussion or not.”

Patton just let out a soft, extended whine. If he hadn’t still had his head down on the wooden table, he would have seen Virgil and Roman glance at each other.

He felt a gentle poke on the top of his head. “What’s up?” Virgil asked.

“He’s gonna think I’m dumb,” Patton mumbled.

“Why would he think that?” Roman sounded genuinely confused. Patton could hear Virgil’s chair creaking as he shifted.

“Because he already does,” he heard himself whine. He knew he should just stop talking, but… whoops.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Virgil argued.

At the same time, Roman said, “That’s preposterous!” He normally had a habit of pronouncing it like ‘perpostrous’, which annoyed Logan to no end. He was pretty sure Roman did it on purpose at this point, evidenced by the fact that he said it correctly this time, when Logan wasn’t there.

“Logan knows you’re not dumb,” Virgil continued. “And it’s not like he hasn’t helped you before. What’s up?”

Patton sighed, gathered his willpower, and lifted his head from the table, sitting up. “I… I guess you’re right,” he sighed. He forced his features into a meek smile. “Sorry, kiddos. I’m just tired.”

“That’s okay.” Roman said.

“I mean… I get it,” Virgil said quietly. “Logan’s got stuff to worry about already. But he’s getting better, isn’t he? He’s allowed to drive and use phones and everything again. And it’s—it’s like Ro said, the stuff you’re working on is easy for him. I’m not—I’m not saying it is easy,” he amended quickly, even though Patton hadn’t been offended. “Logan’s just….”

“A huge nerd?” Roman suggested.

“A huge nerd. In a good way. Not being like him doesn’t make someone dumb. And you—” he fixed Patton with such an intense stare that the sophomore actually shrank backwards a bit. “You. Are. Not. Dumb. Nobody thinks you are. Not me, not Roman, not Talyn or Joan… and Logan sure as heck doesn’t think you’re dumb either.”

“But….”

Virgil was clearly running out of steam (that still happened sometimes when he talked a lot, though he was getting better) so Roman jumped in.

“If we’re not allowed to talk bad about ourselves, neither are you.”

Patton looked at them both for a second. Virgil was chewing the corner of his bottom lip and Roman had half a piece of Crofter’s-covered toast forgotten in one hand, but both were looking at him intently.

“O-o-okay. You’re right. I just got a bit silly, I suppose. I don’t like not understanding things.”

“We know,” Roman said. “You could always get someone else to tutor you, but I’m sure Logan’ll help if you ask…. Where is he, anyway?” He frowned slightly, leaning away from the table to look around.

Patton searched the room for a moment too, then glanced at the Mickey Mouse watch on his wrist. Logan should definitely have been here by now, if he were coming.

Virgil briefly chewed his lip a bit more intensely than before, then stopped and opened his mouth. “He—could he be sick?”

Roman sighed. “Probably… I hope he’s okay. Logan never misses class.”

That was true. The first time any of them remembered Logan missing class had been when he’d gone to the hospital after his accident. Logan valued class attendance too highly, and he was religious about hygiene, so he rarely so much as caught a mild cold. Recently, though, things were different.

“Could be another doctor’s appointment,” Patton mused noncommittally.

“I thought he had one on Friday, though,” Virgil pointed out with a frown.

Roman shrugged. “He’s probably fine.” He set down the toast that he seemed to finally remember was in his hand. “I for one am just glad he’s taking care of himself.”

Virgil nodded in agreement. Patton took a sip from his drink and didn’t respond.

“Hey…uh, you’ve got an art class today, right?” Virgil asked, changing the subject.

Patton nodded, brightening. “I sure do!”

“What are you working on?”

Patton turned to grab a little sketchbook from his backpack and opened it up, showing Virgil a few sketches as he talked about his current project. He knew Virgil was trying to distract him. He let him do it.

...

Tag list: @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts  @gaylotusthatexists @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything @bunny222 @syndianites @astraastro @momolinia @captainswan618 @hamilin-manuel-miranda @goldenkiddos @afilhadehades-blog @virgeofselfdestruction @theresneverenoughfandoms @iris-sanders-athena @super-magical-wizard @rainbow-sides @thefallendog @fanficptsd @zodiac-awesome @lookitsthatquietgirl @nerd-in-space @pearls-of-patton @ab-artist @angered-turtle @im-so-infinitesimal @raygelkitty @dr-gloom @whats-going-on-kiddos @the-dumbster @oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall @fillyourteacup @kittiebrick @youtuberswithalex

[rynne311]

For Better or Worse

Request: Hello! Can I have a Bruce Wayne x reader? Y/N and Bruce attend this charity ball thingy and lots of girls are all over Bruce making you feel self conscious? (You can write the rest the way you want too :) ) thank you!!!

Requested by: @thegreatfallout

Word Count: 1,355

Requests are Open HERE.

You had long ago accepted that gala events with the social elite would forever be a part of your life.  You didn’t particularly care for them, but the charitable contributions they garnered mostly made the experiences worth it. Tonight was different; tonight was for your charity work with one of Gotham’s women’s centers.  You were the one pressing your peers for donations in order to implement the advancement and support programs, which meant the tables had turned and you were now the one leaving your husband to wait around while you schmoozed everyone into prying their checkbooks open.

You were making your way back after this round of purposeful socializing when you spotted it.  The modelesque socialites had once again descended upon your husband in your brief absence, and heaven help him, you could see him trying to gracefully excuse himself from them.  This seemed to happen any time you two got separated at one of these events; it didn’t mean you liked it, it just meant you were unfortunately used to it.  You weren’t, however, used to some of those older society women, who had undoubtedly sent their daughters over to lure your husband, not hushing their voices when they made snide remarks about you and how unfit you were to carry the Wayne name as you walked passed them.

“I don’t know what he’s doing with that Bleeding Heart; all she does is spend his money on the sob story of the week.” You swore you could hear the eyeroll that accompanied the insult.

“I know! You’d think if she wanted to put his money to good use, she’d go under the knife to get everything fixed and actually look like someone worthy of a man like that,” one of the other women in the group added that really made you feel like that girl you were in high school who always seemed to be forgotten until it was time to ridicule someone.

One of the women, one who looked like she could still own a catwalk, took the opportunity to make a dig at you, ”One would think, and I don’t know how he can even stand to let her out of the house in that god awful dress she keeps wearing.  It shows too much of her back and went out of style at least four galas ago.”

“She’s clearly holding him back from what he deserves: a decent woman of good breeding, like my Elizabeth.”

You weren’t sure when you had stopped trying to get back over to Bruce, but now you felt stuck in place.  You could do nothing but listen to the snide comments about you appearance and ambitions as you watched gorgeous women throw themselves at your husband.  Without ever meaning to, you began to agree with the not so hushed whispers that you would never be good enough to be the one on Bruce Wayne’s arm.

You were drawn back out of your musings by the concerned approach of your son, on of those “Bleeding Heart Sob Stories” you spent Bruce’s money on.

“Ma, you look like you need a drink,” Jason offered in an attempt to distract you while he figured out what was bothering you.

“That won’t change anything,” you refused, shaking your head with the most defeated voice Jason had ever heard from you.  It surprised him even more when you turned around and left the ballroom without another room.

Your sudden departure caught Bruce’s attention as he was finally able to separate himself from the small crowd of women surrounding him.  Making his way to the hall and foyer outside the ballroom, Bruce had no trouble seeing that you were now barely holding yourself together.  You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts to realize Bruce had guided you into an empty room until you heard the lock click and found yourself face to face with a very concerned looking husband.

One of the reasons you and Bruce worked so well together was that not only were you both creatures of defense mechanisms to push others away, but also that you both looked right through it every time.  Bruce was one to push everyone away by closing himself off and brooding; you knew just the right amount of space to give him and just how to project his own needs back to him through you.  However, you were one to push people away through anger, especially when you were made to feel like less than enough.  As hard as it may be, Bruce took the anger head on without taking it to heart - you were only trying to protect yourself from hurting more than you already were.

“What’s going on with you tonight?” He tried to ask, but was met with silence.  The World’s Greatest Detective shouldn’t have asked a question he didn’t already know the answer to, especially when it came to his wife and hurt feelings.  Bruce thought back to the ballroom in an effort to piece together what had changed your mood so suddenly.  After a moment of thought, Bruce tried again, “You don’t need to be jealous, sweetheart, I want those women around me even less than you do.”

Knowing that Bruce thought that this was only jealousy only made you more upset, and as soon as he the statement left his lips, he could see that clear as day.  For such an intelligent man, he sure could be dense.

“Well you should,” you venomously spat at him, earning another confused look from Bruce. “They’re all perfect for you! Tall, pretty, good breeding, modelesque society women,” you continued with tears brimming your eyes, “Not the working class, short, keeps wearing the same dress because it’s comfy with no zipper to fight with and is apparently the only design to realize that hips are a thing, and spends your money on sobs stories mess that I am!”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t stop it; the floodgates had opened and the tears were going to fall whether you liked it or not.  Bruce realized just how much you were hurting when you threw your hands up to block him as he tried to pull you in for a comforting hug.  As you lowered your hands to wrap around yourself, he settled for the next best physical comfort he could think to offer you.

“No, you’re perfect for me,” Bruce argued. “Their smiles don’t even reach their eyes, let alone their whole bodies like yours does.  They only think of themselves, when in the same position you always put everybody else before yourself.

“You’re perfect for me because you love with your whole being, not with your wallet,” he paused to collect himself. “You see through the masks and you love me despite my flaws-”

“Because of your flaws,” you interrupted, unwrapping your arms from yourself and stepping into Bruce’s fallen arms.  You leaned your head against his chest and tilted your head to look up at your husband, clarifying, “I love you because of your flaws, not in spite of them.  They’re part of what makes you ‘you,’ so I love you because of your flaws.”

“Fine, you love me because of my flaws,” Bruce conceded with a chuckle. “And I love you because of any flaw that you think you have.  That’s why, my beautiful in every imaginable way wife, I always choose you to be the one at my side.”

You were both content to stay like that - wrapped up in each other's arms, gently swaying to the muffled sounds of the music from the ballroom - for the rest of the gala, until you could go home and get wrapped up together all over again.

You didn’t have to be that ridiculed, insecure girl you were in high school again, but you didn’t have to completely lever her behind and forgotten either.  It was those flaws and experiences that led you here today - happy, fulfilled, loved and in love, and making a difference to help people.

For better or worse, flaws and all you and Bruce were in it together for the long haul.

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 12: Thoughts on 1x11 The Calm

Thoughts on 1x11 The Calm:

S1 Bellarke is the hottest Bellarke fight me.

My boy Jasper doesn’t even appear in this ep and he’s STILL being useful literally making gunpowder like fuck off.

Bellamy is all for just killing everyone and Clarke wants to find some other way. I dunno if I read this as her being influenced by Finn or more like...her mind always whirring, always thinking of better solutions. She’s never content with just the most obvious thing. That said, their positions are reversed a season later: Clarke is all for just blasting the top off Mount Weather and Bellamy wants a more nuanced plan because he sees the people on the inside.

Why wasn’t Murphy + Octavia ever a thing? Also Murphy is smart about cooking meat. Chef!Murphy (head)canon already forming.

“When you’re really pissed off, you always find a project. Something to keep your hands busy so you don’t punch someone in the face.” Finn is annoying but this is good Raven characterization intelligence. Also their conversation is so painfully awkward. She really does just tamp it all down, bottle up those emotions.

Literally nothing is hotter than Bellamy being a leader and giving orders and the delinquents being a competent little group defending and taking care of themselves.

And yet again, Clarke suggested hunting and Bellamy essentially had to sign off on it (not only did he challenge on her and make her explain herself, but tbh if Clarke had told people to pick up spears and go they would have been like yeah right princess)--but it was Bellamy who gave the actual orders, BELLAMY who appears as the leader in the delinquent pov.

I wish there were more young delinquents--really young not Jasper-and-Monty young. Like this loquacious kid who goes hunting with Finn and Clarke. Or even Charlotte, kids that age. ...Really I just wish there were more delinquents. :/

So Raven’s first instinct isn’t to fuck away the pain, it’s to run. Dumb but understandable. She insults Bellamy based on his Ark job (”Aren’t you a janitor?”) which also feeds into my other theory about Ark and class status.

I know I’ve written B/raven stuff and I do ship them in a low-key way, in a ‘they would be interesting together’ way...but I don’t ship them in a canon way, tbqh. In this Bellamy and Raven scene, I see them having a good rapport, but in a way I also see him working her, getting her back on track not just for her own good but for everyone’s good. He has a double agenda and both parts are important.

I wonder how much familiarity everyone on the Ark has with everyone else. That’s not totally clear... people seem to have passing familiarity with others, but not close familiarity. On the other hand, Wick seems pretty comfortable just talking to a Councilor like whatever nbd. On the other, other hand that could be Wick’s personality and/or the circumstances. Most of the ship is probably dead and the rest will die soon so why be formal!

The creepiness of the Ark in this ep should not be understated.I love this aesthetic.

I want to know what the best part of a boar is! Clarke, don’t interrupt. Rude.

Two main characters and a kid you’ve never seen before go hunting in the woods. Which one is going to get speared?

Say what you want about Wick but he and Kane made a good team and I will stand by this opinion too.

In describing their route, Finn said they crossed a road. What road?? When have there ever been roads anywhere in this show?

Kane found a dozen survivors, Jaha has, like, 3....and somehow in Camp Jaha/Arkadia there are like several hundred (?) people. From only two stations like how is that possible? Also didn’t Farm Station have a couple hundred? They must have sent down over a thousand people lol. Kane did not find very many.

Also that Earth Monitoring Station is where the space survivors are living now and it was fucking destroyed in a fire but I guess we’ve just conveniently forgotten about that, huh useless show writers who can’t figure out their own continuity?

Kane has this annoying habit of just being uselessly self-sacrificing all the time. He would be so much more effective if he didn’t do that. He has a lot of hubris, I think. The unforgivable sin: thinking yourself so debased as to be unforgivable. It’s also another way of elevating yourself, of thinking yourself so important that you have sinned more than any other, are worse than any other...it’s still all ‘me me me.’ I think Kane is like that. He’s always looking for ways to sacrifice himself or to be dangerously heroic. I wonder if that matters more to him than, like, actual other people. (Some of this analysis could apply to Jaha at certain parts of his story, though mostly imo in S1. In S2 he starts thinking a little differently.) (ETA it definitely applies to him in this ep, where he wanted to sacrifice himself [and Sinclair] and Kane’s like ‘I’m not a dumbass, we need you smart people to save everyone else, this isn’t a wholly altruistic rescue mission you know.”)

Anya’s idiotic guilt trip re: Tris: “You did this to her.” Yeah I know she’s like 12 and that makes Clarke feel bad because her people don’t use pre-adolescents as soldiers but she should take the attitude she took with L. later. You don’t want me to fuck you up? Don’t attack me first. Would Anya be shedding any tears over the dead, disgusting bodies of the children her chemical attack killed? I doubt it. And they weren’t even soldiers! I mean really the Grounder attacks on the delinquent camp are the equivalent of an attack on a village of civilians, especially initially.

So Monty finds some of the first evidence of Mount Weather (the exodus ship logs showing interference) and Raven’s like ‘neato...give me that for parts.’ He’s much more curious than she is. She’s more...practical? Single-minded? Not that Monty isn’t practical. I dunno. Unrelated but I had this sudden image of modern!Monty listening for signs of alien life, for some reason.

Monty wants to keep the radio because he still believes in the Ark and he wants to see his parents again. “My family is up there.” Makes me even more curious what his relationship with his family is like. (You’d think S3 would have answered that but...not really.) He’s one of the few people who seems to care about those left on the Ark. And he looks so sad when Raven unplugs it... A rare moment when he lives up to his fandom cinnamon roll image. And when Raven leaves he picks up the radio thingy and I wonder if he’s considering putting it back together.

Murphy has a fish.

I gotta love Raven’s confidence: I’m hot and I’ve identified a straight man, if I start undressing, he’ll sleep with me. If I were as hot as her, I’d probably be that confident too, but still.

Bellamy’s “I’m not that guy” speech is actually hilarious when parsed. It’s like the equivalent of “IF I were going to say X, it would sound like this, but since I can’t, I won’t.” Like “If you’re looking for someone to tell you [a list of things in detail], that’s not me.” But you just did dumbass. His ‘bad boy’ persona cracks so easy.

Right before Clarke unpacks the medical tools, there’s a shot of a random $50 bill on the ground. Mmmmm something tells me that our weak U.S. paper isn’t going to survive a century post-apocalypse lol. There’s also a piece of paper. What is that stuff doing there?

Oh never mind. It’s an old bank. There’s paper and cash all over and lots of little drawers. Makes sense, banks would have vaults, and bunkers did have money in them. Maybe they’re in the Treasury’s old bunker. I never noticed that before, but it’s actually quite clever. The set design on this show is A-PLUS.

I’m not into the enemies-to-lovers thing generally but Anya/Clarke should have been a thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

What an incredibly unsatisfying sexual encounter.

Kane says ‘no more than 1,000 survivors’ and ‘at least 1,500 dead.’ There have to have been at least 1,000 though, because they send them down on 12 ships and assuming they spread themselves about equally (which isn’t necessarily true but would be the smartest thing), that would be about 83 people to a ship. And I’m fairly sure Farm Station had more than 83 people and I’m also semi-sure that Arkadia as of 3x01 had more than 166. I mean it’s really hard to tell, and I can’t remember what sort of casualty numbers they gave for the Mount Weather explosion, but these seem like very low numbers to me. I don’t know. Maybe it does make sense and I’m just missing or mis-remembering something.

Having said all that, they did find another cache of survivors after this dialogue (including Abby), which might explain the discrepancy. (ETA not really because they only find, like, 10.)

Kane’s trip through the vent is a nightmare scenario for me so I’m just gonna...not watch.

Lindsey Morgan is so kickass in this ep, like how she stutters a little bit on “family” when she’s talking to Monty.

I completely forgot about this but the Grounders literally try to steal Clarke away like wtf. First of all, I wouldn’t trust her even as far as I could throw her if I were them. And second...she’s the enemy? But “prove your worth and you’ll be welcome here” I guess. Maybe Anya’s into her. I guess it’s good to poach the best talent from the other side before you destroy them. Also love that Clarke pretends to consider it.

The kill marks are to symbolize kills in combat so, really, Clarke’s 3x01 crack abut not having room on her back for all the deaths she’d caused misses the point...as far as I can remember she’s never actually killed in combat. Killing in self-defense, in group self-defense, or as part of an overall military-type mission isn’t the same as in combat, especially as she mostly acts as a general-type person, giving orders rather than doing deeds. Even pulling the lever, with Bellamy, is an awfully sanitized way of killing.

Going after this guy, getting him talking, taking out his knee and then slashing his throat, is one of Clarke’s best moments. HIGHLY UNDERRATED. Really second only to her escape from Mount Weather in early S2. Also props to Eliza Taylor, I appreciate how her expression afterward is half ‘oh shit I killed a man, this is terrible’ and half like steely resolve and determination.

Can Monty not tell the cardinal directions? (Your other West, Monty.)

A rare moment where Octavia and Raven seem like friends. Actually this is a good Octavia episode. She’s only in 3 scenes, which might explain why...

Also underrated is the tense but quick blnk-and-you’d-miss-it horror movie moment of Monty being taken by the Mountain Men. “What’s that creepy signal?.... Omigod... “ And he was never seen or heard from again.

So...why did the Mountain Men take him? Shits and giggles? To see if they could experiment on him? They seemed to have decided pretty quickly that the Sky People were like them, guests rather than blood resources. I wonder what the thought process was.

The end of this episode was aces. Great set up for the finale. I miss when this show was good.

[ttkusfic]

Chapter 1: Dasein Denied

Professor Bochs looked like Sartre as an old man. He was composed entirely of sharp angles except for a pair of frameless half-moon glasses that sat on his face like two fishbowls holding toad colored eyes. Professor Bochs was one of the few professors at Saint Sebastian’s who still conducted his classes entirely in lectures, and this was fine with most of his students who found him tough and intimidating and preferred to say nothing at all. Whenever anyone did speak in class, his eyes widened as if in fright that he might hear something stupid, making the top of his irises rise above his glasses, giving his eyes a fractured look from the right angle.  

My roommate, Meg was terrified of him, but (though I would have admitted it to no one) I liked Professor Bochs. I liked that he was tough, and I liked that he gave me the space to figure things out on my own. I liked that I was able to mull over the contents of his class in silence without breaking into groups to talk about it. I liked that it was enough for him that I turn in an occasional paper to prove that I was still alive.  

In senior year, on the day I was rejected by the only law school I applied to, Professor Bochs canceled the Existentialism class Meg and I were taking together. He was there in the classroom when I arrived, writing with a silver pen in a leather bound notebook, but he didn’t acknowledge us at all except to point to a note written on the board over his head without looking up or pausing in his writing.

Happy Good Friday!

Class is canceled. You will spend my lecture period in the library researching your final paper. The list of available topics is on the assignment sheet that you will find on my desk. Before leaving this room, please, write the name of the philosopher you have chosen on the board with your name.

One student per philosopher.

I took an assignment sheet from the stack of papers I found on his desk and sat in the nearest desk to read it. The assignment was to write a paper summarizing the major contributions of one philosopher we’d studied that term. It must have been an assignment he gave all his classes because there was no list to choose from. This was the first test, to collectively remember everyone we’d studied so far, but it didn’t matter to me. I knew immediately that I would do my project on Heidegger.

I stood up, ready to make my choice, but the board was already swarming with students. I stood in the back and waited like I always do, confident that Heidegger would be left for last, but when I got to the board all of the philosophers on the list were taken, and Heidegger’s name was next to the name of my roommate, Meg Bradley.

The room cleared, and I was left alone with Professor Bochs.  

“I’m looking forward to your paper,” he said as I stood there counting and recounting the philosophers in my head. There had to have been a mistake. Exactly one short? Should I say something? I wasn’t sure. What if he already knew?

“Most of my students start avoiding eye contact by the time we get to Heidegger,” he said, “but not you, Emily Stone. You will be writing about Heidegger, yes?”

“No,” I said, pointing at the board. “Meg Bradley took Heidegger.”

“Interesting,” he said and took off his glasses, as if they were just a prop, and removing them would help him see me better.

“You are not one of my students,” he said.

Since I was in his class, I hoped he meant that I wasn’t a philosophy major. I told him that I was a senior, an English major, and he asked me what I was doing in his class.

“Core requirement,” I said, and he sniffed, wrinkling his nose in disgust, “but I like it. I like philosophy.”

“You do.”

“Especially phenomenology,” I said, and this seemed to please him.

He asked why I like phenomenology, and that I like to think about things. Actual things, and that’s what phenomenology is, the object philosophy. I wasn’t sure I was right about this, so I started ramble about the thingy-ness of literature, repeating something I’d heard in a literature class about Homer’s delight in listing objects, as if he hoped that by listing all the things that were in the golden age of Greece they might come back again and the golden age with them.

“And, anyway,” I said. “I like the fact that philosophy gives me an excuse to think--”

“An excuse to think,” he said, and time stopped.

He was, as always, perfectly composed, but a steely intensity appeared in his eyes, and I understood for the first time why Meg was so terrified of him, but I said nothing. I just stood there doing my best to meet his gaze until my phone rang. I apologized, turned off the ringer without seeing who had called. When I looked up,  he was the impassive professor again.

“Which philosopher have you chosen for your paper?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “All of the philosophers on the list are taken. I was hoping to do my paper on Heidegger. What if Meg and I both do our papers on him?”

He shook his head and explained that the one philosopher per student rule was for our protection. “You don’t want me to be thinking about Meg Bradley’s paper while I grade yours, do you?” he asked, and I admitted that I didn’t, even though I was almost certain that against her’s my paper would almost certainly look better.

He considered me for a minute then turned to a blank page in his notebook, wrote a name on it, tore the page out, and handed it to me like a doctor handing out a prescription.

“You will write your paper on Hannah Arendt,” he said. “Heidegger’s favorite student.”

I started to argue that I knew nothing about Hannah Arendt, and it wasn’t fair since everyone else was allowed to do philosophers we’d studied already, but he interrupted me again.

“I know. You get the student when you wanted the teacher, but she was a great thinker in her own right. I think she will appeal even more than Heidegger to your love of the philosophy of things.” He trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. I took this as permission to go, but before I left I heard him mutter, more to himself than me, “Yes. Hannah Arendt is exactly what you need.”

Heidegger’s favorite student. I repeated the words to myself as I cut a path across the quad over the frozen ground. Until that moment, Heidegger had been a concept to me bound in abstractions and German vocabulary, but he had been a person. I knew that. Obviously. But something about thinking of him with students humanized him for me, a favorite student especially, and it made me want to write my paper on him more than ever.  

I skipped the library, planning to spend the afternoon in my dorm googling Hannah Arendt. Between Heidegger and law school, I wasn’t exactly in a social mood.

The fastest way from the classroom building to the dorms should have been around the quad, but I was forced to take the long way around. Directness seemed to have been one of the last considerations of the campus’s architect, who lived before the invention of airplanes and yet designed the place to look stunning from the air. The buildings were arranged in a perfect square around a courtyard and were connected by paths in the shape of a haloed cross. This arrangement would have been ideal if architect hadn’t dropped a tall-hedged labyrinth right in the middle of it. For a school made up mainly of Bostonians and women from the surrounding suburbs, the inefficiency of being forced to walk around the labyrinth was a constant annoyance. Despite the best efforts of the grounds keepers and their desperate pleas that we not walk on the grass, desire lines were permanently worn around the labyrinth’s evergreen walls.

When I got to my room I found the door open. Meg was her bed with a cup of tea, her philosophy textbooks open all around her and a stick of her frankincense and vanilla flavored incense burning on my desk.  Most college dorms are like storage cabinets for people, but Meg was a witch, and living with Meg was like living in a one hundred square foot metaphysical bookstore. Meg’s desk was the first thing you saw when you walked into the room. It sat under the twin windows opposite the door, I swear, just like an altar, and like an altar it was practically impossible to do anything in the room without referencing it in some way.

The TV lived on Meg’s desk on my side of the room which would have made it convenient for bedtime viewing except that she kept it continually looping a video of a thunderstorm she’d taken from her back porch during our last summer vacation. Having a bowl of cereal meant digging a box out of her desk drawer that she’d coated with sheets of stainless steel because she was afraid of mice and insisted that plastic containers did nothing but weed out stupid mice with BPA poisoning, and nothing short of a cereal box-sized fallout shelter would keep the smart ones away. Opening a window meant leaning carefully over her desk making sure to not knock over a candle or piece of burning incense or the electric fire bowl filled with the ashes of the sins of her enemies.

When I first moved in with her it was magical to me that she was allowed to light things on fire in our room, but when I told other people on our floor about it, I quickly discovered that I was the last to know. Apparently, she had challenged the rule against burning things in freshman year, arguing that it was a necessary part of her religious observance, and the nuns, who regularly burned things as part of their religious practices, understood completely.  

The fire bowl was at the very center of her desk and was also essential, she claimed, to her spiritual practice. I saw her burn all kinds of things in that bowl. Poverty. War. Traffic tickets. A woman who cut her in line at the mini-mart and argued with the cashier for twenty minutes about a coupon.

“How am I going to summarize Heidegger in five pages?” she asked.

“You could have chosen someone simpler,” I said, “Like Rilke. You’re always going on about realness and authenticity. You could have read Malte Laurids Brigge in less than a day, everything he ever wrote, probably.”

“I didn’t take a philosophy class to write my final paper on a poet,” Meg said. “I need to be well-rounded if I’m going to be a writer, and, anyway, you like him so much. I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”

“So, you knew that I wanted Heidegger,” I said, “And you took him, anyway.”

“I didn’t know you wanted Heidegger,” she said.

“How is that possible?” I asked. “Existentialism is pretty much the only thing we talk about anymore. You know how obsessed I am with Heidegger.”

“I knew you were obsessed with him, but I didn’t know you wanted to write your paper on him.”

“Generally those two things go together,” I pointed out.

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it,” she said. “And what’s the big deal, anyway? You just said you could put together a paper on Rilke in less than a day.”

“I didn’t get Rilke. He was taken already. Everyone was taken already.”

“You didn’t get out of it then, did you?” she asked.

“No. Unfortunately.”

My phone rang again. This time I swore but checked to see who it was before I ignored it and put my phone on vibrate.

“Who was that?” Meg asked.

“My mother,” I said. “She called me when I was talking to Professor Bochs, too.”

“If she called you twice, shouldn’t you answer it?”

“No.”

I’d given my mother a copy of my class schedule, so she’d stop interrupting my classes, but she’d ignored it. Even though I wasn’t in class today, I didn’t want her to get the idea that there might be even the slightest chance she might catch me this way.

I took the piece of paper Professor Bochs had given me out of my pocket and handed it to Meg. “He assigned me someone I’ve never heard of before. Hannah Arendt.”

“Hannah Arendt. She’s interesting,” Meg said.

“You’ve heard of her?”

“Oh, yeah. She was a Holocaust survivor, taught at the New School in the early days.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“I thought about transferring to the New School for awhile in Sophomore year.”

Emily was brilliant. She had a mind like a mouse trap. As far as I could tell, she forgot nothing.

“I didn’t know that,” I said. “I mean, I always wondered how you ended up at a Catholic school. Why didn’t you transfer?”

“It’s kind of awkward being here, but I don’t want to be one of those people who only ever knew her own kind. My academic advisor is a nun! I’m probably never going to be this close to a nun again.” She handed the paper back to me. “Do you know why he gave you Hannah Arendt?”

“I have no idea.”

“There is a bit of a mystery around her, you know. She died right before she was supposed to start her last book. It was part of a series, I think, but I know I remember that all we have of it is what was written on the page they found in her typewriter when she died, a couple of quotes and a title.”

“That’s creepy,” I said. “You don’t think that’s why Professor Bochs assigned her to me, do you?”

“No way,” Meg said. “I bet your love of Heidegger weirded him out. He probably just wants to make sure you’re not a Nazi.”