#i know this is such a left swerve from the norm but at the same time what post of mine ISN'T a swerve

[vellichorom]

you silly kids growing up with bfdi meanwhile i grew up on object terror

wait. wrong show

[lalaangeldust]

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [ 𝟑𝐤+ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

[ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ] : gross sticky icky fluff // friends to lovers troupe <3 // hanta is a huge dork, we all been knew this // hanta is also sickeningly sweet and affectionate // GOD, I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH

[ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ] : on a clear night, you go out to stargaze on the dorm roof; nothing out of the norm for you but in the middle of admiring the stars, sero comes out to join with something big he needs to get off his chest.

[ 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ] : you - blue // sero - orange

[ 𝗺𝘆𝗸𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ] : i'm totally not projecting my fantasies onto sero and i'm totally not a sucker for friends to lovers fics :| /s

Sitting on the cool concrete of the dorm roof, the night illuminated by nothing but the streetlights below you and the stars above as you lay in silence with your legs propped against the roof's ledge. You've always thought the best part of UA was how it was out of the way so the stars are clearer than they were back in the city. Although graduation is soon and end of year exams are menacingly looming over you, you couldn't resist the urge to come out and soak up the full moon's gorgeous light. Nights like these, alone on a clear night, soft music playing through your headphones, scanning the vast sky, connecting the dots as your eyes wander to make constellations of your own are arguably one of your most favorite things in life.

The only thing that could possibly make this better is... him.

Eyes trailing to the brightest star you can find and admiring how it sticks out from everything else in your vision, your mind uncontrollably wanders to Sero. How that star kinda reminds you of him...

Ugh! what a ridiculous thing to think! Damn him for always finding a way to worm into your thoughts. Your hands fly to your forehead with a smack, outwardly groaning as you drag your fingers down your face in an attempt to shake off your thoughts. You've been friends with him for nearly three years! You would think you'd be over your petty crush on him by now. You two are practically siblings with how you two are almost always attached at the hip, always causing trouble together, always there when the other needed it, always making you feel safe... It would be weird to have feelings for him... right..?

But before you could rationalize your emotions any further, a hand reaches for your headphones, lifting one side off your ear as you hear a soft voice murmur behind you, “The moon’s beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

You practically jump out of your skin, immediately shooting up to take a defensive position. Although you can’t make out the silhouette you’re now facing, the all too familiar laughter that comes from them is more than enough to give away who this false intruder could be and you sigh in relief.

“Sero! You scared me half to death!!” you exclaim, relaxing your shoulders at seeing his familiar frame emerge through the dim light.

Tall and lean with a smile that could nearly rival the sun, the boy chuckles at you. His long pitch black hair he's been growing out for the past year cascading down the sides of his face, just barely brushing past his shoulders framing his face in a way that makes his dashing features stand out even more. Sero approaches you wearing a loose muscle tank top with his hands tucked in ill fitting sweats and a pair of black stud earrings he stole from you in his ears.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sero chuckled, "I didn't mean to scare you so bad, doll". You send him a deep glare through the darkness and he throws his hands up out of his pockets to either side of his head in defense.

"...Maybe you shouldn't sit out here with music blasting in your ears,” Sero snarks back, “I could’ve been a villain,” he continues mockingly, “Not to mention that horrible stance you took. I don't think you’d fair very well against a villain while sitting down,” he teases with a wide grin smeared on his face. You scoff and roll your eyes in response.

“Are you only here to tell me how much of a hazard I am? Or do you want anything else, tape face?” you grumble.

“Oh, you wound me!” Sero exclaims dramatically, “I was simply wondering what my lil’ muffin was up to,” he muses, the dimples on his cheeks becoming visible as his grin only stretches wider as he speaks.

“Oh god, muffin!?!? ew!” you groan, “What the hell, I thought we agreed on no more stupid pet names,” you say with a giggle while scrunching up your nose.

“I didn't think it was stupid,” Sero huffs as he plops himself down next to you and wrinkles his nose back at you, “Muffin is a valid nickname. You just have no taste,” he concludes with a short nod, still smiling like an idiot.

You just roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him before tilting your head up to go back to looking at the stars. Sero chuckles softly, staring at you for a moment while admiring you as you look at the sky with a softened smile on his face.

“Why you up so late?” he inquired.

“I could ask you the same thing, Sero,” you reply while throwing your head back down to look at him.

“Mmm, well, I was sleeping but… I suddenly woke up and couldn't go back to sleep,” he grunts as he adjusts himself into a more comfortable sitting position next to you.

You hum in acknowledgment before you look back up to the stars in the sky and Sero is left to admire you once again. How your eyes glimmer with the stars as the full moon softly illuminates your frame is a breathtaking view he would never tire of. The look on your face when you gaze at the sky, the look of pure adoration and awe is a look he hopes, prays, dreams you’ll give him one day.

“What’re you thinking, hun?” he softly asks, hoping you’d give him just the slightest glimpse of what goes on in your head. You pause for a moment, taking in his question and wondering how to answer it.

“Just thinking. Thinking thoughts. Nothing notable or important, I can assure you. Just enjoying the clear night,” you say, swerving his question to avoid the real answer. him.

“Ah, that was a rather vague answer,” he jests, mildly disappointed that you didn't let him in and you only hum in response.

“What about you?” you ask, “What made you wanna come up here?”

“Oh, well..” he begins but is held back by a lump that suddenly lodges in his throat, not really wanting to fully admit why he came up here with you.

In reality he hadn't slept at all. He’s embarrassed to admit it but he couldn't stop thinking of you all night, all day in fact. You just about consume his every thought and tonight, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t shake the thought of being with you.

After being so close with you for years now, people often assume the two of you are dating but the idea is almost always dismissed by a shy laugh and an averted gaze... Sero would be lying if he ever said he didn't relish the idea of being in a romantic relationship with you but... You never seemed all that interested in the idea and Sero was too scared to push the idea you may like him even half as much as he likes you. Never going farther than light hearted flirting and banter, some may call him a coward maybe but to him? Being your friend was enough. Well, that was until Mina and Kiri gave him a harsh wake up call earlier that morning.

They were scolding him on how painfully obvious it is how both you and Sero are nearly head over heels for one another, how they've spent the past year pining for one another, yet the both of you have stayed so blind to the fact you have feelings for each other. Absolutely dumbfounded by this, he asks what he should do about it, about you, to which they immediately and overwhelmingly demand him to confess his feelings for you. That is the real reason he came to find you.

“When I was trying to go back to sleep, I thought about something someone said… about taking chances,” he spoke in a soft and thoughtful tone, “Taking that blind leap of faith into the unknown things we’re afraid of because... what’s the worst that can happen…?” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly realizing how silly he probably sounds as he looks at you, “I dunno- sounds kinda dumb now that I say it out loud,” he says dismissively.

“No, no. I don't think it sounds dumb at all. I think it’s very insightful” you say, ushering him to continue by resting your head on your palm as you look at him intently to show your interest.

“Well, uh,” butterflies swarm to his chest as he tries to find the words to speak, finding it much harder to talk when he knows he has your full attention.

“Well, it led me to think about you 'cus I know that's something you talk about a lot as well… and I figured since it's a full moon tonight, you'd be up here,” he concludes. His gaze nervously shifting to his feet, averting his eyes from you to try and calm the fluttering nerves in his chest.

“I’m glad you did,” you hum, a low warmth growing in your chest from knowing he thought about you, “I enjoy your company,” you add thoughtfully. Though you probably just meant it in a friendly way, it didn’t change how much it meant to Sero to know you like having him around.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Sero chuckles nervously, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he slightly scooches closer to you. You take notice and you subtly tilt to the side, leaning in his direction not yet touching shoulders but leaving an opening to do so if he wanted.

“I uh- I also wanted to tell you something- In regards to what I was thinking about…” Sero mumbles nervously, hoping you didn’t catch what he said so he would have an excuse to not go through with his confession. Pretend like nothing happened and move on to just enjoy the simple friendship you two share.

“Oh?” You inquire, “What do you want to tell me? I’m all ears,” Sero fiddles with his thumbs, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks as you patiently wait for him.

"I- uh, I love you," he blurts, head swimming as he looks at you, eager and insatiably nervous to hear how you may respond, horrified you may not reciprocate his feelings and ultimately ruining what relationship you two did have.

"I love you too, Sero," you giggle.

Sero's heart drops, confidence dwindling as he assumes you thought he said "I love you" in the way you two always have. Just as friends. But he didn't. He meant it. He meant it in so many more ways he couldn't even begin to describe. He didn't expect you to reciprocate his feelings in the first place but that doesn't make him hurt any less.

"No, you don't understand," Sero sighs as he runs his hands through his long, thick hair, "I'm in love with you," You turn you head to him, Did he-? eyes widening at what Sero said, unsure if what you heard was a wishful hallucination or not. When you said "I love you" back, you genuinely meant it in the same way he does now. God, you've been in love with him for what seems like the first moment you two met but you would've never guessed Sero felt the same for you.

You sit in silence for a beat trying processes what Sero had just said to you. Your friend, your closest friend, is in love with you..? Something you've dreamt of becoming a reality. You start to get dizzy from the overwhelming euphoria and anxiety the realization simultaneously brings. You look at Sero, placing your hand on his to ground yourself as you look up at him, a warm smile spreading on your face.

"I love you too, Hanta," you say earnestly. Sero's heart leaps in his chest at your words. Not only did the person of his dreams reciprocate his feelings but they also addressed him by his first name?! He might as well be dreaming. Hearing his name fall off your lips like warm honey for the first time sends him flying through cloud nine.

"Y-you mean it??" Sero stutters, still unable to believe it. You give him a heartfelt smile as you squeeze his hand before standing up. You wordlessly walk around Sero and crouch behind him.

Utterly confused and growing increasingly flustered at your sudden close proximity, Sero opens his mouth to ask what you could possibly be doing but you shush him before he can say a word. Leaning against him, you ask permission to grab his hand and Hanta lets you guide his finger to the brightest star in the sky, hyperaware of every subtle shift, adjustment and breath you take behind him, clinging onto every passing moment.

"You see that star? The really really bright one right there and how it's brighter than the others?" you ask.

"Yeah... why.?" he questions, eager to hear what you have to say.

"Forgive me if this is too cheesy but it sorta reminds me of you," you say softly.

"Wh- I don't think a follow," Hanta replies and you give a short, breathy chuckle in response.

"Out of all the stars in the sky, you stick out to me to most. You're the brightest star," you murmur close to him, guiding his hand back down and you make your way to sit next to him. Hanta takes a moment to process what you said. Him? A star? He doesn't understand how you view him in such a way when there isn't much special about him in the first place... but he tries not to pay any mind to those thoughts as his eyes are glued to you sitting back down beside him.

"Pff, that was super cheesy," he snorts.

"Shut up, I'm trying my best," you grumble, "And... that's what I was really thinking about before you came," Hanta looks at you in awe, nothing but love and kindness filling his eyes as he gingerly grabs your hand, lifting it up level to his face.

"It's aright, doll, I was only teasing.. I think it's cute and~," he hums before placing a soft kiss on your knuckle, "I'm ok with cheesy," he concludes with a wink. Heat blooms on your cheeks at his action and you throw your head to the side, covering your mouth and cheek with your other hand in embarrassment. Hanta chuckles, just about ready to burst at how adorable you are and gets a sudden burst of confidence coursing through him from seeing your flustered form.

"Aw, don't get shy on me now, love," he coos, tugging your arm to usher you to look back at him. You look at him with a flustered scowl and Hanta isn't sure if you did it to intimidate him or what but all it did was make his heart scream for you more. His hand slides to your forearm and his other hand goes to grab your other arm, pulling it away from your face.

"Here, come here, baby," he murmurs, pulling your arms to guide you to his lap. You give little resistance as you follow Hanta's hands, shifting around to make yourself comfortable against him as you settle between his thighs. As soon as you got comfortable, Hanta's arms find their home around your waist, hugging you close and breathing you in. You sigh contently as your back rests against his strong chest, never feeling safer than you do right now in his arms.

"It's ok if I call you baby now, right..?" Hanta asks, not wanting to be too much at one time.

"Well, it would be if we were dating," you tease with a raised brow.

"Wha-?" Hanta looks at you confused for a moment before he realizes, "Oh! How could I forget," he chuckles softly, cupping your face in his large palm, guiding your face too look at him, his dark eyes practically engulfing you in his loving gaze.

"Would you care to be my partner..?" he purrs, voice dipping to a soft and low tone that sends goosebumps down your spine.

"W-well, when you put it like that how can I say no?" you mumble, not being able to help the heat rising up your neck, painting your cheeks pink once again from how small you feel under Hanta's enchanting gaze.

"So... is that a yes..?" Hanta inquires, hand still placed tenderly on our cheek. You nod your head against his palm, fingers caressing up and down his forearm as he holds you.

"Mhm, I would love nothing more," you reply in a soft and tender tone. Hanta melts at your words, feeling on top the world and like he can do anything. An uncontrollable smile erupts on his face, charming dimples ornamenting his cheeks as he hugs you tight to his body not wanting to ever let go.

You shuffle in his arms to turn yourself around in his lap. Now facing him, you tuck your face into the crook of Hanta's neck, wrapping your arms and legs snuggly around his torso. Hanta holds you equally as close, affectionately running his fingers up and down your back in complete bliss with you snuggling up to him.

"Can I kiss you..?" Hanta asks, voice just barely above a whisper. You lift your head up to look him in his deep eyes and you cup his face in your hand. Hanta leans into your touch, grabbing your hand on his face and guides it down just enough to plant a chaste kiss to the edge of your palm. You sigh and softly smile, nodding at the boy's question.

"Please kiss me," you murmur, leaning closer into his body. Hanta places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you and a colliding your lips together. Though it was clumsy at first, you quickly adapt and your lips lock together like puzzle pieces. Tenderly, Hanta pulls away from you and rests his forehead against yours. The kiss you shared was short and sweet but still left the both of you breathless and yearning for more.

"May I kiss you again?" Hanta questions playfully and you giggle in response while nodding your head against him. He leans in, smiling against you as you mash lips with together, the both of you sighing into the other's mouth. This kiss a lot more confident than the last as Hanta takes the lead to explore every bit of you he can, taking note of every noise, movement and reaction you give. This time you pull away, surfacing for air from Hanta's intense hold on you.

"I can kiss you again, right?" Hanta asks again.

"How many more kisses do you want??" you giggle.

"That is a dangerous question to ask, my love," Hanta purrs into you, his breath ghosting your neck as he nuzzles his face underneath your jaw and lays a soft peck where his face lies, "I'd take all of them," he says, scanning your face for any discomfort but once he sees you're ok with him continuing, he lays another peck on your neck.

You laugh at the ticklish feeling, lacing your fingers through his dark hair as he continues showering you with short kisses.

"Let me know if I'm being too much, yeah?" kiss on your neck, "I don't wanna be too much," another kiss on the neck, "or overwhelm you," kiss on your jaw, "'cus that would be sad," kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Hanta!" you squeal through giggles.

"I'm sorry, hun" kiss on your cheekbone, "I just can't resist," kiss on your cheek, "you have no idea," kiss on the chin, "just how long," kiss on the nose, "I've wanted," kiss on the eyelid "to do this," kiss on the brow, "And now," kiss on the temple, "I can't," kiss on the forehead, "Stop,"

Erupting with giggles, you desperately try to squirm away as Hanta continues to relentlessly shower you with kisses.

"No, no, no! Hanta!" you cry through your laughter, "No more!"

Giving you one last peck on the lips before pulling away, Hanta finally gives into your pleas and stops his assault of kisses. He presses his forehead against yours as you calm down from your laughing fit, pulling some giggles from Hanta as well because of your contagious laugh.

"I love you," you sigh once you've finally calmed down. Hanta hums in response, placing his hand on the back of your head, letting his fingers lace through your hair.

"I love you too," he says, heart feeling full and beaming with joy.

Forever and always~

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[ lil easter egg of sorts for those of you who don't know~ in Japanese when you ask someone "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" or

『月が綺麗ですね』 // "tsuki ga kirei desu, ne?"

it's actually a very poetic way to confess your love to the person you're asking ]

[ I think it's literally so fucking cute 'cus i myself am deeply in love w/ the moon :) ]

[ if this were a thing in English and someone confessed to me this way, i would immediately demand for their hand in marriage >:| ]

[ god, japanese culture is so cool, i love it sm ]

ALSO- CAN WE NORMALISE ASKING SOMEONE OUT BY ASKING THEM TO BE YOUR PARTNER INSTEAD OF BF / GF????

"would you care to be my partner?" UHBIJNIJAHHHH LITERALLY SO ROMANTIC AND GENUINE HOLY SHIT- i'm making myself simp

RAAAHHHHHHH

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

A/N: I might do a part 2 to this, maybe. Also, Sorry to the one who requested something else first. Still looking for a trope to match your description :’<, but I will get to it!! Please do submit um, specific tropes. That will also make it kinda easier :)). Thank you!

Sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind? I had fun though. Will try to stick closer to the theme next time ;-;. Really need to practice. This feels more like… unintended? Marriage? Then Accidental? Yep. I might just need to redo this prompt someday huehuehue. I’ve been burnt out of good ideas lately so. This is ;-; sorry. Realized too late, and couldn’t retract, rip.

This is not a short, it seems. I have failed. Both the short, and the prompt. I’m sorry. ;-;

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

“This… was not quite what I meant before when I said I needed a partner who could stand alongside me on stage forever.” Claudine muttered, still shocked as she played with the ring on her finger, beholding it with some sort of awe, and slight awkwardness.

“Is that so?” The question was followed by a thoughtful hum. “This was exactly what I had in mind, though.” Maya smiled flirtatiously across the table, act perfect as always as she pretended Claudine’s words and the migraine she currently sported did not hurt her as much as they actually did.

“Hmmm.” Claudine simply continued to scrutinize the jewelry that now adorned her finger, not sparing Maya a glance.

This made the latter deflate, confidence shrinking by the minute. Claudine… did she really dislike the situation all that much?

Maybe Maya should find this sudden, forced(?) romantic engagement weird as well. After all,

They were only best friends.

And best friends didn’t just wake up side-by-side, married, out of the blue.

-As much as Maya loved the mere idea of it.

The events of yesternight were surprisingly vivid and fresh in her mind; Claudine’s as well. This only served to feed the uncomfortable atmosphere and embarrassment between them as they tried to wrap their heads around the thought of them actually, legitimately, officially being married.

How had it even come to that point?

Well…

It all started with Maya’s celebratory party after a successful nation-wide tour for her new show. Claudine had come to watch the top star in all her glory on the closing night, and had gotten herself invited along with the cast afterwards while the pair had been exchanging pleasantries and the usual congratulations. Claudine had been pulled along so naturally, like she was meant to be with the group, and it wasn’t even on Maya’s request.

Maya was ever in awe of her former partner’s charisma, drawing her own cast to the French actress, as if she were their companion these past few months of dedicated rehearsals and shows.

She was happy, and just the slightest bit jealous. Of Claudine or her cast? Maya didn’t really know.

Another thing she did not know was that everyone knew something. That there was something different, different about Maya and Claudine, leading to this turn of events.

After months of dealing with a stoic Maya with minimal genuine emotions slipping by, they’d known in a heartbeat when things changed. Changed when Saijou Claudine, her best friend, was around. They’d have to be blind to not notice how Tendou Maya was always much more enthusiastic in practice whenever Claudine would drop by. Though of course, she was always perfect during any performance, whether in practice or the final thing.

But the troupe knew it was different. It just was. As unexplainable as it was.

There would be weeks when Claudine would never show up, and sometimes it felt like practice was a little tense. Maya was like a deprived pup, waiting on her owner, eyes darting to the door at the end of the practice hall any chance she’d get. She thought she was being discreet, but no. No, she was not.

By no means did her distraction ever weigh anyone down. Maya would die before letting something as trivial as feelings get to her. But… it was clear when her heart was in a place separate from the stage. It never did leave, but it occasionally wandered off, taking its steps farther and farther to where Claudine was as time went by.

Moments like those, the cast had learned to deal with. With how often Claudine came over, they’d all gotten to know each other enough to exchange numbers, and it was simply an easy matter of praying the woman wasn’t too busy for a quick video call, the troupe members shoving a smiling Claudine on their phone screen, the blonde tutting Maya and telling her to move her ass along and stop troubling the rest of the group.

They could just see the light beaming off of Maya even as she was being scolded; so happy, so pleased.

‘Best friends’ their ass.

She’d make a haughty, faux-prideful remark and Claudine would call her out on it, be her usual irritated self with the occasional “mechante va!” . Maya would laugh airily at her, before calming down and mumbling softly how she missed Claudine, how she wished she could pay her a visit- selfish as it sounded. Claudine would then apologize for being so busy, tell Maya that her schedule was hectic at the moment, but that she’d try to swing by one way or another soon. The cast would pretend they didn’t hear the longing in the pair’s tones over the phone, how Maya’s usually perfect posture would slip, frame slouching in poorly-hidden sorrow.

Being apart clearly tore at her. But what could anyone do? Maya had chosen the world of Takarazuka, and Claudine went to walk on broadway. It was surprising enough that they were able to still visit one another as often as they did, Maya surely having been on Claudine’s sets more than once, always welcome, and ever well-known.

They were inseparable, not only physically, but in public image and name as well.

And so with all this knowledge, it was only the obvious choice that Claudine would be invited as an honorary guest to the afterparty, right? No problems with that, right?

….right. Maybe.

Everything had been going swell at first. All was the norm when it came to these somewhat generic parties. There were the usual speeches, acknowledgements, some challenges, karaoke and games. Yes, games. And one game just so happened to swerve them completely off of the safe course.

Maya had been observing Claudine the whole night from where she was seated at the head of the table with important producers and guests. She tried her utmost to hide the annoyance at being interviewed after a long show, unable to enjoy the ambience of the festivities. Coupled with that were the people attempting to get with her, or at least suck up to her good graces. Albeit, she should be used to all this, with Claudine so near, yet so out of reach, it only served to tick her off each second that went by with these snakes of men and women coiling about her, choking her with their disingenuous praises.They were as acid in her ears, burning hot and unwelcomely painful.

The horrid collective concentration of their too-strong “fancy” perfumes with scents all jumbled and odd, along with all the alcohol they made her down (she willingly did so, if only to distract herself from all of them) made bile tickle the bottom of her throat, humiliation threatening to make its appearance.

‘Ah, how annoying.’

She’d much rather be next to one gorgeous French woman, standing alongside all her underrated castmates- these moneybags never gave their potentials a second glance, the idiots. She’d much prefer to be dancing the night away to the oddest of tunes, but enjoying each moment all the same with the rest of her new family, alongside one who had always been her family. And her home. And-... she would stop herself right there.

She hadn’t the right to claim Claudine like that. Not while she remained cowardly, concealing her affections each and every day. She shouldn’t. Not until she made the effort to be able to.

Maya sighed, downing another glass of beer. She was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. She needed a different distraction. One that hopefully did not involve her getting more drunk than she already was.

Who better a distraction than Saijou Claudine then? Beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, voice a pleasing timbre to the ears, aura radiant and warm. Maya sighed, feeling her stress melt away instantly the moment she’d placed her focus on her cherished partner. Now, if only she could call for her attention to save her, or maybe go to her and spend the rest of the night with- wait. Wait a second.

While observing Claudine intently, Maya had realized something. Maya, with all her competitive spirit, had taken note of the fact that Claudine had drunk one glass of alcohol more than Maya. How she knew this? Besides the number of empty glasses laid before the woman on a table as the troupe had currently advanced into a drinking competition, Maya had subconsciously been taking note of each time Claudine called for another drink when Maya managed to spare her a glance. And she always seemed to be taking in more and more!

Therefore, by her very sober mind’s standards, did this not mean that Claudine was trying- and actually being- superior? With the higher tolerance and capacity? Claudine was winning something! And that certainly wouldn’t do! For Maya was always the winner.

Yes! Maya now had the perfect reason to get out of this unwanted bind! She had to defend her honor! She had to maintain her winning streak! She had to best Claudine as she always did in any competition they had! It was tradition; everyone knew of their rivalry since the beginning of time. This was a valid excuse!

With not so much as a word of farewell to the blabbering buffoons she’d be leaving behind, Maya made her exit, stumbling momentarily- whoops, was that supposed to happen?- as she moved out of her seat towards where Claudine currently stood. She had left the drinking game she’d been a part of moments prior, now occupied in talking with one of the show’s directors who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the affairs that Maya had been drowning in, it seemed. And he should have been the one to be receiving all these… those people. He made Maya his scapegoat, the damned old man.

“Tch.”

She observed for a moment as they continued chatting, one moment looking serious, then the next, laughing as if they were old time friends. Was their conversation of great significance at the moment? Maybe. Maybe Maya shouldn’t cut in. But Claudine was animatedly communicating with him, gestures and smiles and all, and something stirred within her at the thought of her best friend so close to this man. Claudine looked like she was having fun. Too much fun. So Maya thought it would be best to interrupt them. Right now.

“Ma Claudine!” She hiccuped, covering her mouth in surprise, and giggling a little ‘sorry’, very amused by the sound that had slipped from her own lips.

“Hmm?” The woman turned around before her eyes widened, moving forward just in time to catch Maya in her arms as she slumped forward. “Maya?! What are-” Her scent… though still as pleasant as always, was mixed with something Claudine didn’t quite fancy as much.

“Claudine? Oh! Claudine! Greetings, my lovely sta-”

Maya had leaned in closer to do who knows what, but Claudine was not having it. Not right now. She pushed her face away, still holding the girl up by the waist. “Maya! You’re drunk! So drunk!” She screeched, already requesting for a glass of water that the director went and fetched from a passing waiter, a glass of relief that Maya adamantly rejected, stomping her foot down with a little whine.

“No! Am not!” She slurred, giggling some more. “But maybe you are!” She poked at Claudine’s chest. “And so you won’t accept my challenge!”

“Challenge?” Claudine shook her head, not wanting to be distracted from the matter at hand. The matter in her hands being an incredibly wasted Maya. “Maya, I think you’ve had a little too much to-”

“You’ve had too much to drink? Haha, I thought so. You’re looking a little red, my dear.” Maya drawled, dragging a manicured nail along Claudine’s cheek, lightly scratching.

“No,” Claudine sighed. “I am very much sober, thank you.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on now, be a good girl for me and take this water.” She tipped the glass the director had passed her, getting Maya to drink somehow.

“I’d say thank you-” Maya exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air, still slumped against Claudine. “But times like these, I can’t be grateful to the enemy. Saijou Claudine!” She patted the said woman’s cheek, maybe a little too hard. It sounded like it would leave a mark.

“Maybe you need more water.” Claudine grit her teeth, very willing to douse Maya with a pitcher with the way she was acting at the moment.

“I challenge you-”

“Are you not listening?!”

“To a drinking contest!”

“I just told you you’ve had enough-”

“Scared?”

“Maya, if you drink any more, you’ll-”

“You’ll lose to me.” Maya grinned, evil and conniving. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? Haven’t won lately, dear Claudine.” Maya chuckled, lips leaning close to a now shaking Claudine, irritation and fury building. Maya just had to add the spark to the ready fuel. “- or at all.”

“You…. you… mechante va! ” Claudine grabbed Maya by the wrist, taking her to the drinking table, seating her opposite of herself. “I’ll make sure you eat your words. Or well… drink them bitterly. More bitter than any alcohol or your tears. Be prepared, Tendou Maya!”

“Always am, Saijou Claudine. ”

//-//-//-//-//

Ten mugs in and Maya was toeing the edge of consciousness. Or lack of it. Her mind was floaty, hazy, dull.

Still, she could not lose. Not to anyone. Especially not to Claudine. She had to always stay on her toes, and keep Claudine’s eyes on her… she’d also like it if they met her own and they’d stare into one another’s colored gems, the sunset’s rays hitting Claudine so perfectly as they had dinner by the beach, the sound of waves beating against the coast as Maya got down on one knee and- that was not important right now.

Maya had to get through one more drink. She shook irrelevant thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus. Focus.

Focus on… Claudine and her pretty pink eyes, almost identical to the flush of her face, lips parted slightly as she breathed gently over the chilled glass, droplets condensing on the outside and rolling down, and gently falling onto the waxed wood of the table.

‘ Ah… you’re just so… ‘

“Beautiful.”

“What was… that?” Claudine got out, tolerance slipping after so many rounds of drinking, including the ones from her previous match up.

“If I win this… there’s a reward, right?” Maya changed the subject, hoping Claudine was drunk enough to truly not have registered her little slip up. Now was not the time for her desires to be made known. She took in a deep breath of air while their drinks were being refilled. “There is. Right?” Violets pinned Claudine in place, daring her to say no.

“Mmph.” Claudine nodded sloppily, reaching for the full glass, bringing it closer and staring into liquid death. This little contest might just be going too far. Claudine still had work the next day. She knew this. Maya knew this too. Claudine knew that Maya knew this. And yet, here they were, probably way past midnight and into the early morning, drowned in intoxication and pride. And yet, “Whatever you want.”

Maya had never been so irresponsible in her life, to get this inebriated. She knew this was a first for Claudine as well. They were usually so careful and calculated, and just… not this pair of reckless drunkards, consuming glass after glass, staring into each other’s souls, no one willing to back down.

“Whatever… I w-want… you sh-say…” Maya drawled, tapping a finger against her cheek, looking to be in thought.

“Obvious-ugh-... obviously… within my power to give.” Claudine laid her head back against her seat, breathing heavily through her nose and huffing out strongly, hoping she wouldn’t just spill her guts right then and there.

She was going to fucking win this.

“And if you won? Whaateveeerr could Claudine Saijou even need, or want in this world?” Maya giggled, taunting. “I’ll give it to you. All of it. Even if it were to be the moon that you wanted, or a star.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not as unrealistic as you.” Claudine waved.

The twentieth glass glared at them through the table.

Maya could barely manage to read Claudine’s body language, but she knew the girl was at her limit. Well, she was too. Her beautiful best friend remained staring into the cup.

“Giving up?”

Claudine shot her a glare, one that sent electricity coursing all throughout Maya’s entire being. She loved it. She loved it so much. This feeling, that gaze, that Claudine. She loved her.

And all Maya wanted to do was be able to tell her without fearing rejection. Why she ever did was stupid. She knew Claudine, and Claudine knew her. They knew each other’s minds, almost as if they shared them. She knew Claudine’s kind and gentle heart. She would feel her affections, sweetness, and genuine thoughts in every action.

So why was she so hesitant?

Why did she still think that Claudine might not return her feelings?

Maybe it was because she knew she could be too egotistical and assuming; assuming that everyone loved her, and always would. Because they just did.

But Claudine wasn’t everyone.

Claudine didn’t fawn over her every gesture, or plaster her posters along her wall, or cry out for autographs, or send her billions of gifts and mails and extravagant whatevers.

Claudine just stayed by her side. Even after seeing how weak Maya truly was.

Even now, in her insecure, lowly, shameful state.

Claudine loved her.

Maybe.

Maya wasn’t brave enough to confirm that sober, so maybe this little contest reaped good benefits for her after all.

She had a chance if she won. Yes. She’d use the reward to request Claudine to go out on a date with her, then they’d go to this quaint little cafe, just like the ones Claudine loved in back in France, and Maya would get her a dress in a shop, and take her on a boat ride and-

“Maya.”

“Do you like the swan boats, or the wooden ones?”

“...huh?”

“O-oh.” Snapping out of her reverie, Maya asked Claudine to repeat her words, apologizing for being absent-minded.

“Iiit’s… it’s alright.” Claudine blinked, brow raised in question, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Anywaaay,” she sighed. “I… said I’ll sh-stop. Tch. I give in. You win.”

Claudine sounded a lot less drunk then Maya, but maybe the glass of water in her hand, as well as the lack of people around them explained that Maya had been out of it for a while. Really, Maya was so far gone from the world that she hadn’t noticed most of her troupe and guests had already headed on home. Even the bartender who had been serving them up to this point was already wiping down the far ends of the counter, preparing to close up.

She would have been concerned about all that, if not for one little detail...

“Araaaa~Ara, Shaijou-shaannn~” She grinned. “Admitting de-*hic*-feat is so unlike y- ack”

Claudine retracted the hand that had just chopped Maya on the head. “Quiet. Drink your water and let’s go home.”

“Eeehhh...”

Claudine sighed. She barely had enough of a mind to be thinking straight right now. She really should have stopped this stupid little thing sooner. She was lucky enough to notice that Maya had very much passed out seated, and she knew she was on the brink of losing her rationality as well. So she just wanted them both to get home in one piece before she lost all semblance of controlled thought. They needed to be home safe. Home separately, not together of course, not that they lived together. Not that Claudine minded , but… oh God. She was really getting there.

“You haven’t forgoootteeen about my… -eugh- ahh… reward though? Have you?” Maya managed, wiping the drool from her cheek as she asked for another glass of water.

“I’m starting... to think you’ll be the one t-to forget it very soon.” Claudine sighed, feeling her eyes begin to droop, rubbing her face with her palms. “Buuut... whatever.  Get it over with. What ish-is it that you want, insufferable woman?” She still tried to maintain her coherent speech, shamed enough for losing their little bet.

Through her exasperated tone, Maya still heard fondness and sprinkles of mirth, Claudine smiling at her gently, even if her brows were furrowed. Ever the good sport. Maya loved her like this too.

“Sooo? Hurry up? We don’t... have all the time in the world here?

Right. Maya’s reward. A response.

Drinking more of her water, she prepared her tongue to speak the necessary words.

‘I want to date you. I want to go out with you. Please go out with me. Please be my girlfriend, please be mine.’

“Maya?” Claudine was beginning to get worried as Maya just stared at her blankly.

‘I love you.’

“Oi. Tendou Maya!”

‘You’re beautiful, inspiring and amazing.’

“Maya? Ma Maya?”

‘I love you. I want to be with you. For a long long time. Please go out with me. Say it Maya. God damn, SAY IT!’

“Tendou Maya!” Claudine shook her by the shoulders, very concerned now by the lack of response, that concern quickly turned into surprised confusion as Maya blurted out her request.

“How about your hand in marriage?”

“...”

‘ What did she just…’

Claudine was in too much shock, too drunk to comprehend what the hell Maya had just asked. So just as stupidly, she replied,

“Sure whatever.”

Maya felt herself slightly sober up suddenly. Wait… didn’t she just say… and Claudine said... “Is… Is that…. Are you shue-su… sure?? Are you-”

Claudine sighed, headache coming on quick. She hoped she had aspirin in her bag. Or car. Or- ah gosh dang it, she wasn’t in the safest state to drive. “Go on ahead, you idiot.”

“But…” Maya tried to reach out for Claudine, still fairly surprised. “What about yoouur… feehlinshh-whoops.” She had stumbled forward again, Claudine catching her the same way she did earlier that night.

Just a lot less sober.

Claudine sighed, taking a sip from her water glass on the counter, hoping to keep her mind for moments longer. Downing one big gulp, she decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest from time to time. Maya was a lot less sharp- scratch that. She was completely dense when it came to Claudine, it seemed. Or maybe she was pretending not to know of the blonde’s feelings for her. Whichever it was, Claudine had no better chance to tell Maya something she’d otherwise never allow the light of day to see.

The truth of her feelings. It was fine. Nothing would be amiss after this, even if Maya understood it now. Tomorrow would be a normal day. So Claudine just needed to tell her honestly, and wholeheartedly, try to make these feelings known tonight. Not that Maya would remember this in the morning. Not that Claudine wanted her to.

This water tasted funny.

But Claudine needed to confess first.

“Don’t you know I’ve…”

‘Huh? What is this… why is everything suddenly so hazy and…’

“likaefgfin you fer so”

“Whaaat was thaaat?” Maya replied a little too loud for Claudine’s eardrums to take.

She barely registered the bartender cursing under his breath, apologizing for leaving that drink on the counter fairly close to Claudine’s water. It was supposed to be his. A strong drink for him to unwind with.

“Ah, Fuck it.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I have to admit, as weird as it feels, I’m impressed.” Claudine whistled, still looking at the metal band wrapped about her finger, fitting perfectly, design simple, yet intricate- and how did that even work. A beautiful purple sapphire rested at the apex of its curve. Claudine admired it carefully. “I really am impressed. How you managed to arrange all this, drunk. Rings and all, even marriage papers.”

Claudine sorted through her memories of the day hours prior to their current afternoon meal time on Claudine’s apartment balcony, admiring the sunset that was closing in. Fragments of images of them walking up to an empty church with Maya shaking down a priest to marry them haunted her recall.

Claudine wasn't all that religious, but Dear Lord, forgive them both.

Claudine felt the intensity of second-hand embarrassment wash over her. Really. What had they been doing at six a.m.?

Right. They had been busy trying to get married.

They even sat in front of the supreme court, waiting for it to open come eight-thirty in the morning. How Maya convinced people there to get them to do the procedures that fast was a mystery in and of itself, but in barely two hours, they were walking onto the street, hand-in-hand, somehow still barely conscious and far from sober enough, with the sun blaring in their eyes, sleep-deprived, and now officially married.

“I still can’t believe your crazy amounts of luck, to have come across a travelling trader. And these rings…” Claudine stroked them gently. “Exotic and from a different country, huh…” She murmured. “Hope they aren’t fake.”

Maya choked on the tea she had been sipping, tongue burnt suddenly. “I-I’ll have you know I have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

Claudine merely hummed again, stirring Maya’s anxiousness up even worse. Maya thumbed the onyx on her own wedding ring, biting her lip nervously, a question on the tip of her tongue escaping after being held back since they’d regained consciousness.

“Do you mind it? Being married to me?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Claudine to hear. Or not in case she had an unfavorable answer for Maya that she didn’t know if she wanted to hear. “Does it bother you?”

Claudine’s eyes lifted up, a sparkle in them, and a few shadows swirling about. Maya read it as doubt, but with a conviction. Claudine had something planned. What it was waslost on Maya, but clearly she was about to say something important-

“I mean, I love you. So I hardly mind this arrangement, out of order as it is.” Claudine laughed. “And I’m fairly sure you feel the same way, considering you were the one to propose this. Quite literally propose. So,” She tried her best to offer a reassuring smile, finally looking Maya’s way to meet her eyes and tell her what they both thought about this- “Maya?”

The sight that greeted her was a flabbergasted Tendou Maya, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I… you… I- you- me, l-l”

Claudine blinked, taking Maya’s image all in. Before she broke,

“...pfft- Ahahahaha, you should see your face, Tendou Maya! You look like you can’t believe what I just said!”

“I… I-”

“If you say you actually can’t believe it, I’ll be incredibly heartbroken, you know?” Claudine wiped tears from her eyes; she propped her arm on the table, chin resting on an open palm. “I’d cry a river.” She giggled, but they both knew there was a truth to her words.

Maya was still at a loss. And Claudine was only teasing her more and more. It was frustrating that Maya couldn’t even manage a word out, she couldn’t even tease her back to regain the upper hand-

Wait… didn’t this mean…

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Claudine cocked a brow. “Are you praying or something?”

“You’ve won.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve actually won.”

“Won? Won what, exactly?” Clearly, this victory wasn’t registering in Claudine’s mind, as she still gazed upon Maya tenderly, a soft blush on her face as she lovingly made fun of the girl. Her smile was of a maiden in love, happy and satisfied, and Maya…

“Or am I the one whose won?” A winner to be married to the most wonderful person in the world- unintentional as it was. Maya knew she’d do it all over again. Intentionally, this time.

“If you’re talking about winning me over, then isn’t it a little too late to realize it now, Tendou Maya?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea.

Maya blinked. “Maybe.”

“Eh? Not that?”

“But maybe you can take that as your first victory.” Maya’s usual flirtatious smile had returned, but there was a sincerity to it that made Claudine’s heart flutter in her chest, Maya’s eyes so warm adding to the butterflies within her.

“A-and what… what “reward” do I gain from all of this?” She stuttered, suddenly unable to keep her eyes locked with Maya’s.

“My, what a silly question, Ma Claudine.” Maya reached a hand over, taking Claudine’s ringed one in her own. “For haven’t you already won me?”

“...you really are infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly charming?”

“I should not be as calm and accepting as I am in-and-of this situation. I just got proposed to and married in the span of so few hours.” Claudine shook her head, almost in disbelief. Almost. There were too many things grounding her in this reality, proving to her that she indeed was bonded to Maya in sickness and in health.

“That wasn’t a no, and don’t change the subject like that.” Maya laughed, standing up from her seat and walking around the table, standing behind Claudine for a while, unsure if she should proceed with her actions.

“Quit being weird and standing behind me like a stalker. Just hug me if that’s what you were planning on doing. You already did it before all this, what’s stopping you now?”

“Th-things are different this time, clearly I’d be a little nervous!.”

“Wuss.” Claudine teased, but her heart was beating way too loudly in her chest.

“Ever the sharp tongue.” Maya sighed fondly, wrapping her arms around Claudine from behind, kissing her on the temple.

“You like it.”

“I do, Mrs. Tendou.”

“Hmm? Are you still drunk? You got a little confused there, Tendou Maya.” Claudine chuckled, a hand reaching for Maya’s left and kissing the back of it, before kissing the ring.

“Not at all? Are you forgetting something? Tendou Claudine?”

“Ten- ah…” Claudine’s face burst into flames, the realization finally sinking in. That she was actually married to the person she loved for so long. So unconventionally too. She would have been consumed by these emotions, but then again, there was something wrong about that statement that stirred up her competitive nature. “Why do I take your name?”

“Well, obviously, I-”

“Saijou Maya.”

Both their brows twitched.

“Yes, that just…”

“Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Tendou Claudine does not work for me either.” Claudine huffed.

“Alright, alright.” Maya laughed. “Mrs. Saijou, would that work for you?”

Claudine turned to give her a bright smile, actually liking how that sounded. “Yes, it would, Mrs. Tendou.”

Staring into one another’s eyes, they felt that familiar magnetic pull they always seemed to have between them, drawing them ever closer. They had always tried to fight against it before, afraid of what the next moment would bring, but now… there was none of that fear. Only reassurance and love.

“May I kiss you, Saijou Claudine?” Maya whispered, softly against Claudine’s lips that were now barely touching her own, breaths mingling and warm.

“You’ve already married me. So why not?”

Soft and teasing, chasing and embracing, their first kiss was all sorts of wonder, and colorful in every way. Their first kiss, and it had happened after they had gotten married.

It truly was out of order, the way they did things. Odd and different, just as everyday was when they were together. Never dull, never getting old. Always something new and changing. Never ordinary. But really, when were they ever the ordinary pair, Maya and Claudine?

Pulling away, Maya laughed. Laughed so hard tears spilled from her eyes until her laughter turned to chuckles, and into sobs, all of joy.

“I love you.”

Claudine felt herself tear up as well, getting up from her seat to hug Maya in full, both of them holding onto one another, neither willing to let go. Whispered reassurances and small kisses brought them down from their emotional high, calming them both as they swayed about in a slow dance on the terrace. They shared words, not really meaning anything at the moment. A few jokes, a few feelings, a little love.

It truly was a wonder how perfect everything fit, and felt. Like it was all natural, the pair so easily getting used to this new lifestyle as sudden as it was.

The stars shone overhead as night fell upon the dancers, the cool breeze wrapping them in its refreshing embrace. Nature provided them their music to a well-practiced dance that only they knew, and Maya had never felt more content in a moment than now. Truly, it was a perfect end to their perfect wedding day. But something seemed to be missing...

“Honeymoon?”

“...”

“Not here, obviously. Bahamas?”

“...”

“Claudine?”

Face heated and hidden in Maya’s neck, Claudine mumbled, “You truly have no shame…” She groaned, but added, “...Only if you’re paying.”.

Maybe some things needed the normal getting used to, after all.

Notes:

A/N: Might make a part 2 if I feel like it. This one was fun! ~Shintori Khazumi

[steponmepinkjun]

I NEVER FINISHED MY STORY OMG. ok so i left off at being too proud to tell my friend she was right and kpop fucked hard. the difference between u and me is that i’m too good of a liar. too good. i kept up the “i hate kpop it’s cringe” facade for ALMOST TWO WHOLE YEARS, I SHIT YOU NOT. why? bc my dumb ass, extra ass, dramatic ass self thought “ok if i’m gonna have to deal with the embarrassment of admitting i’m wrong, i better do it in such an extra ass way it’ll knock ur socks off so hard that YOULL be the one embarrassed not me.” the original plan was to learn the entire choreography to bts dope, bc it’s the song that she told me to listen to and inevitably the song that got me into them, but later switched to bts fire bc i saw too many of those “choreo matches w any song” videos, and then her birthday party came up. and here’s the real kicker. her birthday is April Motherfuckin Fools. so it would be So Perfect for me to reveal my kpopism as a birthday present And a april fools prank in one. so i was Set on the Reveal being on april 1st, but the day rolls around and god that choreo is so fucking hard and i am Not a dancer. never have been. so i abandon that and go ykno what… i’ll do it Next Year. BC MY BITCHASS WAS LIKE NO THE MOMENT IS TOO PERFECT TO DO IT ON A NORMAL ASS DAY ITS GONNA BE ON APRIL FOOLS ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY OR NOT AT ALL. a year rolls by, i’ve told most of our friends except her and they’re all in on it, i’d made so many subtle kpop references to her without her realising they were fully intentional and had too many scares where she almost figured me out but i lied my way out of it, and i’d given up on showing off with choreography bc i couldn’t make that shit look good. i’m not a dancer. i am, however, a rapper, and a damn good one, so i inhaled the agust d mixtape and decided i’d just rap the eminem of kpop’s anthem at her face. in korean. and change the lyrics at the end (if u haven’t listened to agust d, the bridge repeats “i’m sorry” a lot) to “i’m sorry i kept this from u for so long” and “i’m sorry i actually ult got7 not bts” (this was like the april after skz debuted ok i was holding onto got7 for dear life knowing full well skz we’re going to convert me smh) and the best part? she never saw it coming. her official present was a cd with a bunch of kpop on it but she thought it was just a personalised mixtape for her so i told her to play the first song out loud and she knew the song Instantly. it has a long intro so she was like “i guess u did listen when i recommended u this song!! i knew you’d like it since u like rap so much!!” and then i started rapping and i shit u not. she started SCREAMING. like the initial reaction was her jaw dropping and then instinctively covering her mouth but when i kept going and she realised i wasn’t fucking around she just fucking screamed like a banshee. at the end during the sorry bit i threw off my jacket to reveal a got7 shirt on the inside and she fell off her chair and started rolling around on the floor. needless to say it was every bit as satisfying as i thought it’d be LMAOOOO afterwards her ass was like “I CANT BELIEVE U HID THIS FROM ME FOR OVER A YEAR” and when i tried to explain my ego couldn’t take the “i told u so” she was like “you know i wouldn’t have made fun of you for it right? i would just be glad you’re not hating on my boys anymore” so basically i’m a big dramatic fool and she was always too good for me.

don’t mind the weird spaces here my ipad is being all fucky wucky w me rn. damn sad to hear ur sideblog experience didn’t go so well, i’d have shown u the cool side of the fandom if i knew 😤😤 leading u thru the cursed halls of kpop stan tumblr like a sketchy tour guide that’s actually 3 small raccoons stacked on top of each other like a trench coat, like “over here we have the fanfic writers that honestly need to publish a book, over here we have the gif makers that are responsible for my entire camera roll, if we take a quick swerve past the death threat anons and the twt fanwar screenshots - mind ur feet bub the 14 year olds were tryna make a grab for ur ankles - ah here’s the holy grail of shitposts, you might be here for hours, to the right we have the weird aussie side of the fandom that projects our childhoods onto chanlix but also all the members as we decide what their life in australia would’ve been like, and down there is a secret trapdoor to the blogs w endless random headcanons that will make you laugh, cry or blush depending on if the author woke up and decided to choose violence today. enjoy your Stay!” but then again i’m not so active on tumblr anymore (ngl you’ve become the highlight of my tumblr experience these days, interaction wise,) so maybe all my Local Hotspots are inactive now. i know a bunch of them are, it’s sad. “i don’t fw stan twitter for the same reason i don’t hang out in meth dens” oop. guess i’m a meth addict. no but i get u i rly do, it’s a hellhole out there, but the fact that things get shared and spread a lot easier than on tumblr and how short most things have to be (therefor keeping up w my adhd attention span without having to resort to the mental torture that is tiktok, with the added bonus of not always needing headphones.) that i just. couldn’t leave if i tried. maybe i should try being active on tumblr again but it’s a dying site in comparison.

“their music doesn’t consistently hit for me as much as skz” i’m sorry we can’t be friends anymore. what. what. you don’t dramama ramama ramama hey? you don’t feel a little jealousyyyyyy, naega anin? you don’t shoot out, shoot out, shoot out, or aremdaeun love killa love killa? you can’t be your hero du du du du du du du du du dududu? u disappoint me. literally like everyone i know who likes skz music likes mx music like it’s a rite of Passage. they’re kindred spirits, monsta x music is like skz’s music’s cool but mildly heterosexual older brother. neither of them know what a bad song is it runs in the family. and both their music runs in my VEINS. whenever i describe my music taste they’re always the first two that come to mind, skz being my number 1 bc they are my best boys but mx bc of the Flavour. pls listen to the entire the code album then get back to me 😤🙌 ok but fr ur so right they are 7 of the finest men i ever seen (yes i say 7 bc i’m including wonho cause he deserved better and i’ll die on my ot7 bullshit.) like don’t get me started on them either LOL i LITERALLY downloaded that one insta video of changkyun working out his back n arm muscles w his tattoo showing bc i needed that shit saved for Science. they could do Anything w me like frfr. yes vixx is the bdsm contract group i’m telling ya they wildin. or at least they were. it’s been years since their last comeback idk what they’re doing anymore tbh. and yeah that makes sense, savouring the hyperfixation i feel it, but also i’m so attached to skz that i never let it die. like i hyperfixate on other things and other groups but i will Always go back to skz cause they’re my homeboys. hell, they’re my home. being a predebut stay i’ve spent more time w skz than most of my actual family members at this point. but that’s just me you do u boo xx just know that if ur anything like me ur never letting go once skz it’s been my longest lasting fixation cause they hit like Nothing Else Do. ik i’ve already said that but i cannot stress it enough. they’re really special. i’m gonna stop here before i get all sappy and emotional bc i really love those boys so fucking much and i don’t drop the L bomb often. SIDE NOTE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE UR LIST OF GROUPS RANKED BY THORSt. i need to judge ur Taste. and omg cat&dog is such a guilty pleasure song bc the lyrics make me cringe so much bc while pet play can be fun they be doing it in more of an “i’m an innocent soft dogboy uwu” kinda way that just Does Not Sit Right with me. it comes back to the objectifying of asians that asians themselves don’t help in industries like these and maybe i’m looking too far into it when rly it is just wholesome n cute or maybe they are into some pet play shit idk idc i will bop to the song regardless but i will not acknowledge the lyrics nope.

YOURE RIGHT THO SKZ’S OPENNESS IS IN FACT, A BIG DEAL, i’ll grab them for u if u want but i found these twt threads of skz supporting the lgbt community and i just felt a special kind of happiness man like sure the delusional part of me likes going “haha they’re gay” bc my brain likes to imagine them as my polycule of mlm boyfriends bc sometimes thats what gives me the serotonin to get me thru the day ok don’t judge but also bc it’s nice knowing that yes i’ll never know them personally, but at least i can support them knowing they’d respect my gender identity and my pronouns, they’d respect who i choose to love, and that’s already more than the general public can say so shit, it is special! it’s special that they don’t treat being cishet like the norm - they constantly remove gender from their songs and speech entirely, they don’t assume all stays are female anymore, we don’t talk abt the babygirls incident cause we got babystays in the end outta that ok, and it’s just. so refreshing and important to me bc i can’t get that anywhere else!! like my semi ults are the boyz and while i love them very much and there’s no way all 11 of them are straight i refuse, i do get just a little bit sad whenever they she/her their fandom by default and call them their girlfriends n shit even tho i do still identify as a girl, i’m also genderfluid/nonbinary/transmasc, and i have a very love/hate relationship w my womanhood and rarely use she/her pronouns, cause it’s like, do you not see me? see us? the ones who aren’t cishet women? i mean i know kevin does bc he congratulated a fan who came out as nb but it’s just not the same as the openness we get w skz. like how do i trust cishets i could be supporting them as a queer person when in reality they’d call me a slur. what would i know, behind the screen? so it’s so good that skz go the extra mile to make it a safe space for everyone. this is already long enough i will reply to the second half of that ask in another message… tomorrow cause it’s 1am and i’m tired gn -felix bi anon

I'mma have to start putting these under a readmore so that i don't absolutely make everything who is still following me for some reason go totally fucking insane 😂

NDJDHWJJAHFNAKBSJSBFBHHDBDNAJD YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACES I WAS MAKING READING THIS, I WAS FUCKING CACKLING AND GASPING EVERY OTHER SENTENCE SO HARD THAT I SCARED THE CATS NDJWHSHSB the fact that you went "oh you want me to get into kpop? Give me a hot minute, and I'll give you a whole ass private concert for free" biduehsjdbd biiiiiiiiiiitch you're a fucking ICON, I stg I could NEVER 😂 (and not just because I couldn't find a tune if you gave me a printed set of Google maps directions and that I embody the steriotype that white people can't dance, like my sister kept sensing me tiktoks of the whole "dance like a white girl" trend going lmfao look it's you and eventually I was like "sis please this trend has me feeling like being white is a disability and these mothafuckers are being ableist 😭 also I could NEVER be that on beat so yall ain't even doin it right 😭😭😭😭"). Tbh if I told one of my friends (lol what friends, i got jokes) to get into Skz and they showed up at my bday and performed the entirety of I Got It I would simply shower them in money and go "aight everyone else go home, you are no longer needed, you are being laid off, your position has been eliminated, we're downsizing, the company is moving up and you're moving out, you are not qualified for this role any longer, best of luck with future endeavors" 😊

I think part of the reason I can't deal w Twitter is the exact reason I refuse to leave tumblr, in that I've been on tumblr since 2006 and twt since 2008, and tumblr literally has not changed at all, not even a little, whereas going from the early days of twt where there were no corporate sponsorships or ads and you had to manually copy and paste someone's tweet and @ them to retweet it, to how it is now, like 90% ads and showing me shit from the timelines of people I don't even fuckin follow n whatnot, it's just not enjoyable. Idk how anyone finds anything on twt, it confuses and frustrates me because I am old and have not adapted well to technology changing 😂 But arguably, the skz fanbase doesn't want me on skztwt anyways so like it works for both of us lmfaooo. I am old and cringey, and also still think of twt as stream of consciousness whereas tumblr is your teenage bedroom where you can decorate the walls with anything that interests you. I do really love the nonsensical kpoptwt shitposts tho fhshsbdjjss like it is a very specific flavor of mental instability that I enjoy immensely 😂 OH and also I initially misread part of that and thought you were saying you actually irl do meth and I was like 😳 WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT. HOW DO I HANDLE THIS. Like how do I express like "I wasn't being judgy of people who use substances cause I've been there but I was just being insensitive 😳" And then went back and reread it and was like WHEW, IM JUST AN ILLITERATE FOOL 😂😂😂😂 ejeywhdhrhjwbfbdjshdhdhd I spent like an hour bwign like "IS THE REASON WE GET ALONG BECAUSE THEY'RE ON METH???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??????" hrhehshe I am literally a fuckin idiot it's fine

It's not that I don't fw them, it's more like... Okay so like there is no situation in which I am going to skip a skz song if it comes on shuffle. You will not ever catch me NOT in the mood to listen to Sunshine, if God's Menu comes on we are THROWIN the meager amount of booty meat I got hither and thither, I could be in the happiest mood of my life but if Ex comes on I will stop to SOB. And I'm not like that with most music, so mx just falls into the category of "there is a time and place." Idk why but it just doesn't forcibly grab hold of my heart and ass the way skz always does. I really don't WANT my skz fixation to ever end, but I know that eventually it'll stop giving me dopamine bevause my brain is my worst fucking enemy 🙃 like my arcana fixation is to date the longest running hyperfixation I've ever had, going on almost three years, and I used to not be able to spend every single second of every day thinking about Asra, but now... I just feel nothing when I look at arcana stuff. As you can probz tell by the fact that I hardly post arcana anymore 😂 So I know that eventually all my happiness will end, it always does, I can never stay just as obsessed with something as I was for long. I CANT SHARE THE LIST BECAUSE I DONT *HAVE* TASTE YET 😭 I'm basically just compiling a list of any group someone tells me I should look into, ranked by how strong the kitty purred upon googling pics of them 😂 My mom read my ass to FILTH over txt lmfao she was like "they're not that adorable. Maybe your standard for adorableness has gone down with You Know Who still on hiatus 🤔" bfjwhdhd like MOMMAAAAA THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED 😂 she attacks me any time I even hint at stanning other groups, she is a skz purist and stans skz only, unofficial Momma Stay of All Stays keeping me in check lmfao.

I feel like skz really do follow thru on their promise that they're a safe space for stays, it's nice to see that they hold space for anyone and everyone in their fanbase and do it in a really simple and elegant way, I feel. Like they never make it seem like "okay here are the fans and here are the token weirdos that were only recognizing to make a buck off of them" the way a lot of artists make it feel like 😑 like they don't go out of their way to act like it's some revolutionary act to do the bare minimum of not shitting on certain parts of the fandom, if that makes sense. They feel very "yeah, of course we love all our stays, this is a welcoming space for literally anyone, that's how it should be, that should be normal," instead of like "Hi fans we love you 😊 and special shoutout to you ell gee bee tee folk, make sure to buy my rainbow merch after the show!!!" you know? Like, they're the friends who would never make you feel weird or different for some shit, the friends that take the attention off you if something they know ur sensitive about comes up, instead of weirdly snapping at whoever brought the unfomfy thing up which ruins the mood and makes you feel tiwce as bad, yk? They just give off this vibe that they, and the space they create with their music, is just a genuine and chill place to be and hang out and relax and bond. I feel like they'd be the friend group that is so goofy and sweet and silly and accepting and lovely and always makes you feel loved and excited to be alive 🥺 They are all good noodles 🥺🥺🥺

[theonceoverthinker]

When Will My Life Begin? (Fair Game Tangled AU) (1/?)

Summary: Tangled AU. Clover Callows has been confined to a tower for all of his life, and given the threat that his Uncle Tyrian says his semblance poses to his safety, he accepts that fate. It’s the only life he’s ever known, after all. But when he’s offered the opportunity to fulfill his greatest dream after a chance encounter with a thief -- or bandit, as Qrow Branwen insists there’s a difference between the two -- both Clover and Qrow will discover joys that they never knew life could offer them before.

AO3

A/N: It’s finally here, and just in time for the last day of @fair-game-week -- my Tangled AU!!!! While it’s a bit shorter than I anticipated, I am so happy to finally present you with the first chapter, and hopefully, there will be many more to follow very soon!!!!

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CHAPTER 1

This...is the story of how I died.

Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story.

And the truth is, it isn’t even mine.

This is the story of a man named Clover.

And it starts with semblances.

Semblances, for those of you not in the know, are abilities that each and every individual in Remnant has. They can make you go faster, shiftshape, and all sorts of other things -- they can even manifest and activate without the person thinking about it.

For the forces of good who work to make Remnant a haven for all, semblances can be a real blessing.

But that’s the thing about good forces. They can’t exist unless there’s something they need to be good against. And what the kingdom of Remnant was against was itself against the very essence of goodness itself.

Salem was a witch bathed in darkness. Her semblance gave her the ability to conjure up and control armies of these things called Grimm. 

What are Grimm, you may ask?

Imagine animals, and then imagine what they’d look like if they somehow survived a volcanic eruption, a typhoon, and an earthquake all at the same time.

Yeah, those are Grimm.

And Grimm don’t like humans.

Neither did Salem.

Salem’s attempts to defeat the kingdom of Remnant with her army of monstrous Grimm, while never successful, also never stopped coming. Even if it looked like things were calm, folks in Remnant always knew Salem was plotting her next attack in the shadows.

Okay, I know, I know, I’m getting off topic here. This story’s about Clover.

Trust me -- I’m getting to him.

Remnant had a general -- one high in renown -- and he had a family. This family wasn’t one unified by blood, but was grafted together like a tree.

General Ironwood had adopted four little children, and was ready to add yet another to the family -- an infant whose parents were stolen from him by the cruelties of an apathetic, yet powerful fire. But against all odds, the child was spared. And so Ironwood did the only kindness to this child he could think of -- adopting him into his family.

That baby...was Clover.

On the day Clover entered the general’s home, and for all the days that followed, it became clear that luck was to the child in much the same as breathing was to you and me. Surrounded by his new father and siblings and the love they birthed inside of him, Clover seemed to make improbabilities of fortune the norm wherever he went. Lost pets returned to neighbors, supplies for shops arrived earlier than expected just as they were most needed, potted plants came back to life -- every day brought some kind of new miracle to those Clover interacted with.

It was only a matter of weeks until specialists confirmed what Ironwood had started to suspect.

The child’s...Clover’s semblance...was good luck -- a luck that imprinted itself on those that Clover loved. And while it of course couldn’t be counted on just on its own to ensure changes, in its existence lived the possibility of incredible triumphs for their fair land.

When Clover’s semblance was announced to the people of Remnant, the kingdom rejoiced, hoping to be blessed by Clover’s good luck and prosper for many years to come.

To celebrate his semblance, General Ironwood and Clover’s brothers and sisters released green floating lanterns with clover-shaped insignias into the sky on Clover’s birthday, and Clover himself was gifted with an emerald encrusted clover-shaped brooch. 

...It was something his oldest sister Harriet shortly after suggested that he might be too young to really appreciate, so Ironwood decided to hold onto it until later on.

After all, they were all a family now, a family with a lifetime’s worth of memories to look forward to making.

For that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

You see, whereas the good people of the kingdom saw naught but opportunities in Clover’s semblance to better their kingdom, Salem’s group of miscreants saw the semblance as nothing but a danger to their mission to destroy it.

And one of Salem’s cronies wanted to do something about that.

Tyrian Callows was worse than a snake in the grass -- he was a scorpion in the grass. Born with a venomous stinger for a tail and a personality even more toxic than that -- well, let’s just say he didn’t really fit in with the people of Remnant.

But when people don’t fit in with those Remnant, they sometimes find that they do fit in with Salem.

Tyrian worshipped Salem from the second she first acknowledged his pitiful existence. Whereas many of Salem’s forces needed to be courted by her at least a little, Tyrian threw himself into his services for her after just one conversation.

The only problem with Tyrian’s little obsession was that he had competitors for Salem’s affections and attention -- her litany of other supporters. Unfortunately for Tyrian, he was about as on good terms with Salem’s other goons as he was with just about anyone in Remnant, so if he wanted to get closer to Salem, he’d need to do it on his own.

And with Clover’s new semblance on display for all, and optimism pouring into the kingdom like water out of a freshly-filled pitcher, Salem’s good graces were harder and harder to get into by the day.

Yes, Tyrian, it seemed was out of luck.

But then, he realized something -- there was a surefire way to change that.

Not two weeks after Clover’s semblance was revealed, something happened that would swerve Remnant’s destiny into a dark territory no one in the kingdom could ever have expected it to fall into. 

It was a cold, windy night when Tyrian struck General Ironwood’s home. Clover’s room was perched on the top floor of the house -- three stories up -- but Tyrian’s tail was more than up to the task. 

When Tyrian approached the darkened room, only given life by the soft sounds of Clover’s snores, he could tell that the theft was almost too easy.

And it was.

By the time General Ironwood was woken by a wooden plank destroyed during the escape, it was too late.

Tyrian, as well as his precious son, were gone.

Cries escaped from the now broken apart family as realizations struck the five of them that their son and brother had disappeared.

Soldiers ran into the nearest woods as far as just about anyone could to search for Clover’s kidnapper, but to no avail.

As Tyrian continued to run away from the kingdom’s guards, he discovered something. Clover and the implications of his existence gave Tyrian more than just a victory -- he gave him a choice. While his original plan was simply to take Clover and bring him to Salem to do what she wished from there, happily taking the bit of goodwill the kidnapping would grant him, another option arose, one Tyrian decided was well worth investing in.

Years ago, long before Tyrian first laid eyes upon Salem, he found an old and deserted tower, masked well by the surrounding forest, and far enough from all as to never be found.

This tower had been Tyrian’s home for some time, and after that night, it would house another.

Yes, the newly self-appointed “Uncle Tyrian” would raise Clover, and take all the luck he was provided by Clover’s love all for himself.

So he did. 

Tyrian hid the truth, carefully painting a narrative for Clover of a hostile world that only wanted to take advantage of him for his semblance, and the tower he was confined to as the sole safe haven from the evils of man -- a final gift from his late father that was by his plea never to be left by Clover.

And Clover, under the guise of living in a loving home, believed him.

But the walls of that tower couldn’t hide everything. 

Each and every year, on his birthday, General Ironwood and his children continued to release those very green lanterns that once celebrated Clover into the sky, and the people of the kingdom -- by the thousands -- joined them in solidarity, hoping one day that their efforts would bring the lost child home. 

While afraid of the world, Clover, as drawn to the windows that led to the world outside his tower as a fly to a pot of honey, gazed at them each and every year on his birthday from the tower’s sole window. As those lanterns lit up Clover’s lonely world, they inspired something in him, something stronger than all the fear of the outside world his “uncle” could ever hope to instill in him -- a dream to one day see them up close for himself and discover their hidden meaning.

And on Clover’s twenty-first birthday, he finally would.

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Hat in Time (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: The Conductor (A Hat in Time), The Conductor's Grandchildren, Hat Kid (A Hat In Time) Additional Tags: The grandchildren have names because I could not find a way around it that would be believable, Don't think too hard on them, This was mostly canon compliant until I decided to be self indulgent at the end whoops, Parental Conductor, THIS IS VERY MUCH A FIC I HAD WANTED TO READ BUT HAD TO WRITE Summary: Of all the things that could have happened on the cruise, The Conductor definitely hadn't bet on the ship sinking. He has to find his grandchildren before the worst can happen.

Aka, It kills me that you find The Conductor in an empty playroom in Rock the Boat. There's no way he could have known the babies were safe while he was stuck there, and if he even remotely cared about them, I wouldn't imagine him taking it well.

-

The Conductor hadn’t even spent a full day on the ship, and when he was back on dry land, he was going to file a complaint. He’d been searching for a bathroom for the better part of an hour, and he was extremely lucky he literally stumbled upon a seal who knew where it was.

Said seal was trying to clean a giant mess in front of the only door to said bathroom.

“WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE BATHROOM ON THIS PECKING SHIP?!” He was practically jumping with anger as he yelled. The pleasant buzz from the alcohol had long since worn off, and his irritation about the situation was only building to a proper explosion.

“I’m vewy sowwy, but we’we wowking on it.” The seal seemed appropriately apologetic, but was otherwise unfazed by Conductor’s loud anger.

The moon penguin in front of him snapped literally and figuratively, "Stop bothering them! I can't hold on for much longer, and if you-"

He checked out of the tirade the penguin clearly needed to direct at someone. Even though the penguins had a strong loyalty to that peck neck Grooves, he really didn't have the energy to fight them with the same fervor. They weren't the one constantly driving him up the wall, and he had other things to focus on.

Such as getting through that door.

Somewhere between getting called "a has-been director" and "the worst thing to happen to bird cinema since The Birds," the Conductor realized that the seal had made absolutely no progress on cleaning the mess. Every spill that was sopped up with the mop was replaced by a new glass falling out of the cart.

It was like watching the new tech owl trying to wrangle the lights.

Making an executive decision, he decided he would take matters into his own hands and jumped ahead of the still ranting penguin. He heard them squawk indignantly, but he was already bolting towards the wall by the blocked off door.

He used his momentum to climb up the wall and hopped onto the walkway that apparently served as a roof for the bathroom. The seal had ignored him as they continued their neverending task, but the moon penguin’s dropped jaw was hilarious. Apparently they forgot that he still did his own stunts.

Cackling, he turned away and dropped down the other side. There was a tool cabinet flush against the wall, and at the top, he saw what he was hoping for. The opening didn’t even have a vent cover, which made things even easier. Clambering up the drawers as if they were stairs, he was FINALLY inside.

Along with another seal with a dining cart.

He had more urgent matters to take care of though, so he brushed away the question of, “How the peck?!” For later.

He had to pass by the seal again as he washed his hands, so he asked, “Ah, need some help?”

“No thank woo. My fweind will let me out once they’we done.”

He still had a drink with his name on it and, and was not about wast time arguing. “If ye insist,” he casually said before jumping for the vent opening and climbing out. Once he was on the tool cabinet again, he paused as he tried to figure out the quickest way to the bar.

This ship was convoluted, not like his train, which was mostly a straight line. Sure it would get tweaked for certain movies, but for a train to actually go, you couldn’t deviate from the norm. But this thing didn’t have stairs where they should, and in order to get anywhere, he had had to jump and climb.

That was not an easy task while toting around five rowdy little ones.

He hopped onto the balcony so he could get a better look at where the next jump was when the entire ship violently tipped to the side. The Conductor gripped the railing to keep him self grounded, but he nearly lost his grip when the ship tipped the other way.

“WHAT THE PECK IS GOING ON?!” He screeched at a seal that flew by. Whatever was said was lost in the ruckus of the ship tipping once again, and he caught them with one hand as they were flung back in his direction.

One of the bulky Mafia humans on a balcony across from him yelled, “Driver must have lost mind!”

“Captain was on bweak!” The seal helpfully added.

They were jerked as the ship swerved, causing him to scream,“THEN WHAT PECK NECK IS STEERING?” If he wasn’t clinging for dear life, he would be stamping his feet.

Any further conversation was cut short by a loud metallic screech as the ship jerked to a dead stop before tilting. With the side that the Conductor was on sinking straight into the water.

The seal started to squirm before insisting, “Let go, mister! I can swim!”

Given that he couldn’t hold onto the struggling seal with only one hand, he had to take their word for it. The water was already close enough that the fall wouldn’t even faze them, and he needed to get out quickly.

Once the seal was in the water, a few others were already pulling up a lifeboat to their area, and they directed all the passengers towards it. If it wasn’t for the owl and penguin clearly calling the shots from the boat, he would have wondered where the sudden competency came from.

Shifting his grip, he pulled himself upwards so that he was balanced on the railing. At first he was going to make a jump for the lifeboat, before something icy gripped his heart. “OI, PECK NECK!” he yelled towards the boat. He didn’t care which one answered, “Have ye been to the children’s playroom!?”

“No, sir! we’re trying to get everyone close to the water first,” The owl responded. That was all he needed to know, and he jumped for the still intact bounce pad. “S-sir!” He could hear the owl call for him as he used the spring to trampoline upwards, but he had other priorities.

The little ones were in danger, and he couldn’t wait for someone else to find them.

His jump carried him almost half-way up the side of the ship, but there wasn’t an easy place for him to land. Expletives left his beak as he realized this fact, and his claws screeched against the metal as he slipped back down the side. The fall was halted when he managed to grab onto a window ledge and pull himself up.

All he could think was to jump to the next balcony he could see and keep going up. Even as the ship leaned further over, he fought gravity itself to reach the next hand hold.

He couldn’t let them die. He promised his daughter he would take care of the children on this trip, and that they would all have a good time. She wasn’t supposed to worry about them drowning while they were with him. He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t let them down.

Even if it meant he died trying to save them.

With the speed that had carried him through the opening of Train Rush, he managed to climb nine-tenths of the way up when he saw a problem. There was a patch of pure white and then glass before the railing at the top of the ship.

Nothing to hold onto.

And the water was only climbing higher.

His best bet was to jump and pray that he could reach the railing. With no time to lose, he took his only available option.

Which thankfully worked out; he was able to grip the railing that kept people from falling off the top of the ship and pull himself over. Just in time for several pool toys and floats to slide down and bounce into him.

If he popped one or two out of frustration when trying to get them out of the way, no one needed to know.

With everything turning on its side and sliding, the path to the playroom was perilous. He could even see the icy pool water spilling out and flooding the lower level of the deck. From his position, he could see that the remaining vacationers were scrambling to the exit on the opposite end from his destination.

None of them were carrying little balls of yellow feathers.

All the pool chairs on the upper level where he was were heaping together into a miserable pile. At least one tipped over the edge once it hit the glass. But, it meant there was a mostly clear path to the dome that he knew covered the playroom, and he took off running.

Until the angle became too much for him to keep his feet on the walkway.

His chin hit the boards before gravity rolled him back towards the railing he just left.

He couldn’t fail. Not now. Not when he was so pecking close.

Pulling out a knife, he jammed it into the wood to stop his descent. The pain in his shoulder told him he would feel that in the morning, but he would worry about that when the little ones weren’t in danger.

He tugged the knife a few times to ensure it was well and truly wedged in before pulling himself up and grabbing the edge of the deck. The angle of the ship now meant that once he was over the edge, he could stand on it, and once there, he prepared himself for a dive towards the still open door to the playroom.

The landing was a bit rough, but he was finally in there.

And it was empty.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, he called out, “Ainsley? Maisie? Innes? Rory? Alister? Yer grandpa’s here!” As each name came out, his voice became more desperate and pleading, and it nearly cracked by the last word.

All he heard was silence other than the sound of water leaking in.

Speaking of which, he could feel the chill of the arctic ocean through his shoes, and he clambered onto the desk before the water could soak more of his clothing. Still frantically looking, he noticed that the circular playpen, while still attached to the floor, was tilted so that the opening was hanging over the water that had already accumulated.

His heart stopped.

The little ones couldn’t swim.

He jumped into the water in a panicked frenzy. With frantic movements, he swept his arms around as he searched. His arm bumped into something, and without hesitation, he grabbed it and swam up. Once he surfaced, he got a better look. A part of him was afraid of the answer, but he needed to know.

It was a dinky toy.

“RAAAAUGH.” Screaming in frustration, he threw the toy against a wall, uncaring of where it landed. Which, after bouncing a few times, it slid right back into the rapidly swelling pool. “WHERE ARE MY PECKING GRANDCHILDREN?!”

Any further screaming was halted as he felt the cold bite of the water finally getting through his desperate and angry haze.

He already knew that he couldn’t handle arctic water well after the incident in the pool.

They have no chance of surviving that.

The thought weighed him down even more than his currently wet clothes. Climbing out of the water was difficult thanks to his shaking limbs, and he wasn’t sure if that was thanks to the physical or emotional numbness.

With the ship almost completely on its side, he couldn’t see a way out, so he pulled himself into the concave curve of the glass-like dome that was once the ceiling of this room.

And waited.

He wasn’t sure for what. Even if he was found, would he be able to live knowing that he had failed his precious grandchildren? He shouldn’t have left them to drink for hours. He hadn’t even explored the boat for other activities he couldn’t do with them around. He had just wasted his time in one spot on alcohol and not spending the last few hours of their lives with them.

He was an awful grandfather. An awful father. Maybe his other daughter was right. Maybe he was just a selfish bastard who never cared for his family.

Thoughts continued to spiral as he stood up, and he couldn’t help but contemplate the water before him.

Until a loud splash brought him to the present, and jerked his attention back to the very crooked entrance.

It was the hatted lassie.

She was jumping across the platforms with the skill and speed he expected from her, but he couldn’t figure out what she was doing here. She should have been on one of the life boats! He was about to say as much when she got to him, but she picked him up without any preamble.

He couldn’t help but squawk at the sudden action, and he gave a half-hearted reminder about his feathers that she clearly wasn’t paying attention to.

Unwilling to potentially drag her down with him by struggling, he kept quiet as he let her carry him out of the playroom and to the last life boat. He couldn’t help but shiver as his damp clothing was exposed to the wind, but the minor tremors did not deter the lass.

When they made it to the boat, there was a fair amount of rescues there, including two Express Owls. Who looked overjoyed when he saw them.

“Conductor, your grandkids have been looking for you! We went ahead and sent the other boats on-”

“Don’t wait up for me pup. Get in a boat and scram. This is my dang ship, and I’ll go down with it,” the Captain’s voice echoed over the water.

The immense relief at finding out the little ones were safe was then shattered when the lass started running back to the boat. Likely to rescue the stubborn captain.

“Wait, lass, where yer going? You wanna save HIM?” He shouted at the fleeing child. The Captain was a Walrus for Peck’s sake! He could hold his breath long enough to swim away if he wanted to! And if he didn’t want to… well, the lass shouldn’t be risking her life!

“I’m not gonna hang around a sinking ship! If you don’t make it back quick, we’ll leave without yer!” Some part of him had hoped that would scare her back, but she was already climbing into the top of the ship and had clearly ignored him.

“She saved some of your kids, you know?” The moon penguin whispered to the frustrated owl. “I don’t think she has it in her to leave anyone behind.”

While he knew that was true, it didn’t ease his agitation. The ship was already halfway sunk; they didn’t have much time before they would be endangered too. They couldn’t wait forever.

The boat couldn’t stay so close to the ship and had to move, but between the seals moving some capsized life boats around and some of them staying back to guide, there was a clear path from the ship to their boat. He could only hope she saw it.

Waiting was agony, and there wasn’t much room to pace. “Where’s the lass? The ship is sinking, we gotta get out of here.” After about a minute, he yelled again, “Get over here, lassie, We’re leaving NOW!” It was only thanks to his light weight that he was able to jump up and down to express his impatience.

The Express Owl that had the misfortune of being right next to him rubbed his head to clear the ringing from his ears.

After a minute, the lass hopped down from an icy ledge while carrying the Captain. The sight made the Conductor do a double take. Sure he knew that she was light on her feet and good at jumping, but that didn’t necessarily translate to carrying someone ten times your weight. He hadn’t thought much on her carrying himself since he wasn’t much taller than her and significantly lighter, but this was strange.

The relief returned, however, and overpowered the confusion. She was a strange one, yes, but she was consistently strange.

And safe now.

Everyone gave their thanks to the lass as the boat caught up with the others, and the Conductor threw in his own deeply felt appreciation. “Aye, thank you lass. The little ones haven’t learned to swim yet!”

Speaking of.

He could hear the excited peeps from his grandchildren when they saw him. Alister was waving his rubber knife around with excited glee, and it was only thanks to a strangely alert seal that kept him from jumping out of the boat and towards his grandpa. Of course the Conductor couldn’t help but wave and make a silly face at him.

When he could tear his attention away from the little ones, he noticed something… familiar glowing in the middle of the boat with his grandchildren. A glowing hourglass.

Oh PECK.

He heard the Captain say something about the shiny thing on the glacier, and while that caught his attention, he was a lot more worried about something so dangerous in the middle of his grandchildren.

Before he could make his own path, the lass must have come to the same realization and booked it over to claim the Time Piece to send back to her ship and away from clumsy and curious hands.

The time piece itself vanished in an instant, but the lass remained this time. She sunk onto the bench, and he could tell even from this distance that she looked exhausted.

He decided to hop over now that the lass had claimed her prize, and the little ones immediately started to climb all over him. Unfazed, he picked them all up for the best group hug he could deliver. Maisie was initially reluctant to let go, clutching him as tightly as her beak held her pacifier, so he cradled the little one in one arm as he placed the others down.

With the little ones assured of his presence, he joined the lass on the bench. Innes crawled up to sit on his lap still clutching their sunhat, and the others all hovered around him before settling near his feet and leaning against his legs.

He wasn’t sure why the lass hadn’t left yet; generally, once she had her Time Piece, she would leave as soon as possible. He opened his beak to ask the question, but as he turned, he noticed that she was hunched over and trembling.

Thinking about how they were in the arctic and how she had just been hopping and running around in the water, it concerned him. Quietly, he asked, “Are ye cold, lass? Need anything to warm ye up?”

What he hadn’t expected was the lass to turn her face up to him and for her to be crying. “I’m sorry!” she sobbed before burying her face into her hands.

At first, he was confused. “Why are ye apologizing? It’s not like this-”

Before he could complete that sentence, she wailed, “Yes, it is! I saw that Time Piece and. And.” She couldn’t keep talking before another sob broke out. Whatever she had been about to say was lost, and she instead said, “Almost hurt everyone...”

The puzzle put itself together. The Time Piece. She wrecked the ship and endangered all of their lives for one of those hourglasses? A part of him really wanted to be angry. It was a very loud and vocal part of himself.

But the other part saw a clearly guilt-wracked child, and his parental nature told the angry part to peck off.

He shifted the little one in his arm to the other side before reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. “Ye didn’t mean it to turn out like this,” he stated when she looked up at him in surprise. “Everyone was talking about how the ship couldnae sink, and well. How were ye supposed to know?”

She clearly didn’t accept that. “It doesn’t matter… I still-”

“Beatin’ yerself up over it isn’t gonna help, trust me on that one, lass. We all make mistakes. Some of them terrible. But everyone got off that death trap, thanks to you.”

The lass glanced around at the few lifeboats that were around them. “There’s no way that’s it!”

“Lass, ye saw the way to get on before the boat left the dock. It thinned out most of the crowd since they couldnae get on board. Everyone who got that far had to fly or jump.”

After a moment, the lass leaned into his touch until she let him give a one sided hug. The shaking had lessened by then, he noted.

They stayed in that position for a while, and now that he was still, the dampness in his clothes was making itself known again. The lass noticed and asked, “Why are you so cold?”

“I uh, might have taken a dip earlier. While trying to find the little ones.”

The somber look returned to her face, and he kicked himself at his callous reminder of what they had just gone through. The moment was interrupted by a seal with a penguin perched on top approaching their boat, and the penguin asked, “We got some blankets stored in our boat, need any?”

“YES!” The lass shouted. “He’s like a birdcicle at this point!”

That got a loud laugh from the Conductor. “Ye need one too, lass!”

After they got blankets brought over, the Conductor got the little ones wrapped up in their own so that they would nap for a while. Their rescue boat was still a distance away, and he didn’t want them to get into any trouble before then. He noticed that Ainsley’s white hat was damp somehow, so he plucked it off. She chirped in protest but calmed down when he let her hold onto it like a toy.

With his limbs free, he cocooned in his blanket and watched the lass follow suit with hers. Eventually, she ended up leaning against him again, and he finally said, “Ye could just go back to yer ship, right? It’ll be safer for ye.”

“Not fair to you guys...” She mumbled.

It really didn’t sit right with him that she insisted on suffering along with them, but arguing wasn’t going to change her mind. “… How about ye head back once the rescue boat gets here? We’ll be safe by then.”

The lass mulled it over before finally agreeing. “Sure. That’ll be… fine.” A yawn interrupted the reply, and she jerked away.

“Ye can sleep, there’s not much to do other than wait.”

She must have been tired enough to not argue, because she simply leaned back against him, and her breathing slowed after a few minutes.

With all his charges accounted for and resting, the Conductor smiled in relief. He was tired, for sure, but he would deal with that later.

“Rest well, lass.”

[k-meshus]

Ecstasy

Chapter 1: Prologue The lukewarm air coming from the vent above me left a tingling sensation on my face. After I got used to the rippling effect, i brought my self to bring my eyes open with great difficulty. Though the room, that I didn't know how I got into was dimly lit, every refraction of light was a great pain to the eyes, everything felt a lot bright. After my eyes adjusted to the surrounding light, I found out I was lying on a hospital bed, getting fed through a small tube they call a glucose, which I found its constant dropping very irritating. I was alone. There was nobody that came to check. Maybe I've been here for weeks, months or even years. And they all just gave up on me. As that freakish thought crept upon me, I heard footsteps hurrying towards the room I was in. I saw the white gown of a tall, middle aged doctor enter. Closely followed by my mom, whose face was showing a mixture of emotions. Fear, relief and anxiousness. Which all turned into a face of disappointment the next second. Maybe that explained it. Whatever it was, whatever I did...it was not good. Chapter 2: Tickets To Nothingness 4 months ago I grabbed the bottle of pills from under my bed as I hurriedly tried to leave for school. I'm not a morning person. I dont get up early, always late. I hear my mom repeatedly shouting my name from the other room. The pounding pain in my head was too obstructive too answer her. I made a low groaning voice to let her know I heard her. I dragged myself down the stairs and into the car after I kissed her bye. The ever so annoying questions about my mood from dad were what always greeted me when I entered the car, or anyone and anywhere for that matter. "Nothing," I gave my usual reply. Unsatisfied with the answer as always, we drove out. I got in to class swerving the everyday rant about my lateness from various teachers. But I first made a detour to the bathroom to take 2 blue, round pills and went to class. I made my way to the back of the class and sat back. Felt a tugging to my right. I turned to see the smiling face of Mary. My first friend I made when I moved to this school last year. She was short, a bit chubby and almost always in a good mood. You'd always see her laughing or talking with anyone she thinks is fun. She was very approachable. "Look alive!" She said laughing for whatever reason, grabbing her seat next to me. "I would if I was" i replied, beaming at her. She knew I was on some thing from my slurred speach. She didn't make any comment about it, as it was the norm to go to class high. "Ugh. Math and physics back to back on a monday! Its the Worst" she exclaimed. I nodded in agreement. I was never the one to talk, bring up ideas or getting involved on pretty much anything. I'm just there to give my opinions and observe other's. And see them get to a decision whether i agree or not. "They never fail to bring the days to the worst," I said. "And there you go," she said, softly laughing and setting up her books. "What do you mean?" I asked even though I knew where this was going. "Your thoughts, and these things you say that are generally not...uhh what's the word here? Not bright I guess" "Did I lie?" I asked. "Well no but, you know? Somethings are better not said. Better kept in. Whether the truth or not," she said, still smiling. "Yeah yeah. Whatever you say," I replied The dreadful monday classes finally came to an end. As I was lifting my bag to leave I heard my name and turned around. It was Nate. A shorter than average guy with face as clear as milk. "Wanna go to the game zone? Get your ass kicked on some playstation soccer?" He asked. "Sorry I got places to get to. Been a really tiring day." I lied. "Alright maybe tomorrow then," he said, heaving his bag to leave. "Sure" I replied to his back. I didn't have places to go. I just honestly wanted to get home to my bed. Not that it was better than school, but at least I'll be alone. Nor was it a much tiring day than the others. I don't notice the days passing by. They all seem like an endless hour. They've all merged together to create an endless loop. Their lines blurred. As I was running low on my tickets to nothingness, I made a detour to my friend Lukas's house. He was my plug. I don't know by exactly how much but he was a bit older than me. Tall, dark skinned and fit, he was a cool dude. He wouldn't sell anything he doesn't believe in. Or anything you can easily overdose on. He was one of those rare dealers thats not in just purely for the money, but also for other people's timely joy. I rapped on the door thrice. I saw his face emerge from the kitchen through his cracked window. He opened the door to let me in. The place was shabby but enough. Light coming from two lamps on either side of the house, a ragged mat was what greeted you on your first step in. But a bright white light shines from the kitchen. That was where he usually operated. He never really seeked much luxury. He was a simple guy. As I entered, the smell of multitude of pills in all different shapes and sizes was suffocating. There was a small bottle of yellowish liquid on the small table that supported itself against the couch. Whatever it was it clearly was not orange juice, since there was a syringe lying next to it. "I thought you met your creator," he said making his way back to the kitchen. "I figured you might come so I was just prepping your stash" his voice came, through the sounds of opening and closing drawers. "Yeah, been a week right? Didn't have much time to get around. Your stuff been lasting longer" I said, Grabbing a cigarette from his TV stand. "I keep telling you, quality is what I seek," he said, coming from the kitchen holding a small plastic bag with smiles on his face. It was true, his supplies were never disappointing. After I lit the cigarette and took two, long, well deserved draws from it, I asked, "So what's in the bag?" "A bottle of xannys, small bag of mollys, 3 tabs of 450ug acid, and on the house, two rolls of mj." He answered. I took another drag, grabbed whatever money from my pocket and gave him. We both know it wasn't enough. But he also knows I'm never late to pay my debts. "Don't get yourself killed Luc. Or worse, go to jail," I joked, as i got up making my way to the door. "You'll bail me out homie," he said, before I closed the door. Mine and Lukas's relationship was not a dealer-buyer relationship. It was more like "a friend who sold drugs and I buy it from him but we don't hang out much" kind of relationship. I dropped the cigarette on the puddle by his door and made my way home. "Where were you?" Was the question that came from my mom as I got in. "I met a friend from my old school and we were catching up," I lied. "You better not be up to something funny," she warned. "I never am", I said proudly opening my room door. She never trusted me. She once caught me smoking a cigarette on the backyard. Well, not exactly caught red handed but she smelled it as I was making my to the bathroom to wash up. I knew it was obvious so i didn't bother lying. I just admitted it. But even before this she never trusted me. I don't know what she thinks I'll be doing but she wants to know where I am and what I am doing every second. "Dinner!" she yelled. "I've eaten," I yelled back, as i started crushing a pill which Lukas didn't tell what it was. I made it's way through my nose and lied back on my bed. I heard a message from my phone and took it out to reply. But I couldn't type a word. Something from inside me was holding me back. Then I realized it was the pill doing its job. My muscles were uncontrollable. My jaws clenched and I histerically laughed at my own disability. It was a little scary since I've never taken anything with similar effects. But I completely trust Lukas on my life. He wouldn't sell me anything he thinks is harmful on small doses. Getting to the bathroom was difficult but manageable. I sprayed some water on my face, and saw my eyes were dilated and bloodshot red. I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and saw my dad was there. "Hey," I said, through a slurred voice walking past him to the sink. I always talked in low and slurry voices even when I'm not high. And people can't tell the difference anymore. "How's class?" He asked, for the sake of it. "Good," I replied for the same reason. "Dont forget your homeworks," mom warned. I ignored her and went back to my room. I laid back again and stared at the cealing. It appeared to be zooming in and out. Colourful patterns everywhere on it, easing my anxiety filled and overthinking brain. Whatever this drug was, whatever it cost, it gave much of the feeling I look for. Not exactly joy or laughter or a general euphoria. But the feeling of nothing. Yes that feeling where your mind doesn't proccess anything. Your entire body is just resting. Or better yet, completely turned off. Where you lie where ever you are and think of... nothing. That feeling. Whether it lasted 2 seconds or 2 hours was what I sought. And what I currently got.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Ascension (III)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: R (violence)

Word Count: 8,194

Summary:  The weight of humanity rests on Y/N’s shoulders. In Ascension, enemies must come together, lines must be drawn and the question of good and evil itself must be raised. As Y/N’s power strengthens and more players reveal themselves, the only thing obvious is that nothing in this world is black and white. (Book 2, sequel to Guardian)

Jongdae crosses the room slowly. He comes to a stop, staring down at your face. Jongdae isn’t a tall man, but somehow it’s hard to meet his gaze. His expression twists in pain and desire, shadows wrapping your chin to tilt upwards.

Something in his gaze softens. “Take care,” he murmurs, then slips past.

You stay like that, until he shuts the door. This is for the best, you argue with yourself. You know that separation will you good – but still, it hurts. It hurts to be parted from him. Then your eyes widen, realizing what you’ve done.

Your father. You requested Jongin bring you to your father.

You haven’t seen him since finding out what you were. Your father knew all along, yet kept it a secret. He kept it hidden and now, you’re going to find out why. Staring at your hands, you spread them in midair. Splaying them quietly as you recall Baekhyun’s words.

Piece by piece, you’ll pull yourself together.

Closing your eyes, you hesitate only a moment before you teleport.

“Road trip!” Baekhyun sing-songs, slinging his bag in the trunk. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on one – even longer, since other people were involved. When I was young,” he continues, walking to the front of the car, “everyone thought I was loud – weird, I know – and would refuse to go. I don’t know,” Baekhyun sighs, missing the look you and Jongin exchange. “Only Chanyeol would come with, and that was mostly due to his inner ear thing, which meant he only heard me half the time, and – hey,” Baekhyun comes to a stop, looking over his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

Jongin stares in disbelief. “He’s your friend,” he grumbles, flipping his keys in one hand, “which means, you get to be the one to entertain him.”

Without a word, Jongin opens the door to the driver’s seat. You’re left standing alone, until Baekhyun quirks a brow. “You can take the front seat,” he offers, gesturing. “It’d be weird, if Jongin chauffeured us around.”

“Not very road trip-y,” you agree, opening the door to climb in. Jongin’s car turns out to be a pick-up truck – something which surprised you, at first glance. When you expressed such sentiment, Jongin shrugged.

“It comes in handy,” he said, something which has indeed, proven to be true.

Buckling your seat belt, you look over your shoulder – only to find Baekhyun, staring at Jongin. “Can I ask a serious question?” he ponders, leaning over the console.

“Go for it,” Jongin sighs, placing the car in reverse. “What do you want?”

“Can I oversee the music?”

“No.”

Falling back, Baekhyun pouts – a gesture which switches to a frown, as you watch. His brow furrows, concentrating fiercely and you wonder what on earth he’s doing, until a sharp ray of light breaks free from the clouds.

“Ah!” Jongin yelps, nearly swerving off the road.

“Baekhyun!” you gasp, and he jumps in surprise.

“Sorry,” he pleads, rubbing his neck. “I wasn’t trying to do that, I just wanted to test things out – but,” he grins, switching track, “did you see, Jongin? I used my powers, just like you taught me! I focused the energy, concentrated on the result, and – ow! Why’d you hit me, Y/N?”

Retracting your arm from the back, you sink down in your seat. “Because you’re trying to kill us all,” you explain, looking out at the road.

It’s hard to stay mad though, since you understand what he’s going through. When it first starts, your powers are hard to control – hell, even now, it’s still hard. Besides that, you appreciate what Baekhyun is doing. To the untrained eye, his babbling might seem an annoyance but to you, it serves one, very specific purpose. It’s a distraction, Baekhyun’s attempt at normalcy while the entire world falls apart is soothing; enough that, for a moment, you wish you were beside him. You wish you were in the backseat, head on his shoulder while his incessant rambling lulls you to sleep.

This thought is banished, when Jongin hits a pothole.

“So,” you clear your throat, shaking free from the thought. “Jongin, how long have you known Jongdae?”

Up until now, he’s been driving. It would have been faster to teleport, but you still can’t judge distance very well and besides – using Nephilim power is a dead giveaway to the Altorium. You might as well send up smoke signals, light up the Bat signal, too. It makes human transportation the safest option – hence, the car.

“Really?” Jongin’s lip quirks in surprise. “Are we telling backstories now?”

Shrugging, you reach for your water. “What else do we have to do? While you’re at it, tell us what heaven is really like. Is it all gold robes and halos, floating around on clouds of harps? What do you talk about?” you muse, drawing your feet up on his seat. “I imagine the conversation is mostly intellectual – somehow, it’s hard to imagine a fart joke in heaven.”

Baekhyun leans in, nose poking between you. “If she gets to be too much for you,” he stage-whispers to Jongin, “I can always switch seats at the next rest stop.”

Jongin frowns, as if he’s trying to decide who, between you, is the lesser evil. Eventually, he sighs. “Why do I always get the talkers,” he mutters – mostly to himself. “You know, Y/N – I think you’ll like Kimmy.”

“Oh?” you say, thinking back. “Kimmy is your Nephilim? Water power, right?”

Jongin nods. “Yes,” he agrees, shoulders tensing when he speaks. “Kimmy has been my charge for just over two years. She’s – well, loud,” he states, causing Baekhyun to snort. “She’s also honest, not at all afraid to speak her mind. I’m,” Jongin hesitates, voice dropping. “I hope it hasn’t gotten her into trouble, where she is.”

Somewhat gently, you touch his arm. “She’ll be fine,” you assure him, though you don’t know that yourself. “Jongdae and Yixing will free her, you’ll see.”

Jongin hesitates, then sighs. “I suppose. Anyways – to answer your question, yes, I knew Jongdae before falling. Only by name, since Jongdae was the Archangel of Death. It was rather hard not to know him, and me – I was merely an Angel of healing.”

“Hm,” Baekhyun muses, dubious. “That’s not what Jongdae made things sound like.”

Jongin’s head whips up, startled. “When did you talk to Jongdae about me?”

Baekhyun shrugs, somewhat evasive. “Things came up. He explained you were their primary healer, in the battle against Noah.”

Rather embarrassed, Jongin nods. “I suppose, but that was after I fell. Or – ah. Hm. It may have been in the middle … It’s all kind of a blur, which event came before which.”

“Interesting,” you add, sensing Jongin does not wish to elaborate. From everything you’ve seen, this seems to be a sensitive topic. Jongdae made falling from heaven seem to be an excruciating, mortifying experience.

The car is silent, until Baekhyun clears his throat. “And the robes?” he prompts, serious. “What of them?”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “The only reason,” he sighs, a trace of lecture to his tone, “you think Angels wear robes is because it was commonly depicted during a time humans wore robes. Our clothing changes with the times, and if you saw an Angel today – more likely, they’d wear jeans.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun mulls this over. “Seems less impressive, somehow.”

“How lucky,” Jongin states dryly, “that the entire Angelic collective doesn’t work to impress you, and you alone.”

Baekhyun smirks, hiding a grin. “It is a departure from the norm, I must say.”

Jongin’s mouth drops, then slowly closes. “Anyways,” he states, clearing his throat. “You’re right, in thinking there’s little laughter to be found in heaven, Y/N. I know your last remark was facetious, but the burden of an Angel is heavy. I don’t know,” he allows, looking over, “if you’re familiar with the human philosophy which indicates the primary urge of humanity is survival?”

“You mean survival of the fittest?” you ask. “Or something else?”

“Partly,” Jongin allows. “It’s the idea that a human, when pressed, will make the decision best for their own survival. If we assume this to be true, the opposite is true for an Angel. An Angel’s duty, their purpose is the end all, be all.” Jongin’s grip tightens on the wheel. “For example, I feel a need to fix people. I want to heal, to save, while Jongdae feels the need to pass judgement. He wishes to right the imbalances of the world, to save all things from evil and protect humanity.”

“He feels judgement, all right,” Baekhyun mutters.

Ignoring him, you sink back in your seat. It makes sense, even if you don’t like this about him. The entire time you’ve known him, Jongdae has been in constant battle with himself. Even with you – or, especially with you. Jongdae said so himself, he cannot tell if he loves you due to his duty or something else entirely.

“Humans,” Jongin continues, as though sensing your distraction, “are granted free will. This is another thing which separates us, as Angels do not.”

“What?” Baekhyun blurts out, surprised. “I heard that as a rumor, but I didn’t imagine it to be true.”

Jongin’s lips purse, turning onto the highway. “It’s true,” he affirms. “Not in the way that you’re thinking, though. It’s not as though God writes us a script every day, or yanks on our golden halo, whenever we err. Lack of free will means, while a human’s primary desire is themselves – our primary desire is you. We don’t think about our wants, our needs; not in the same way you do. It is only after coming to earth,” Jongin explains, “that I even began to grasp the concept.”

It’s strange to consider, while you stare at the road. “So,” you pause, thinking. “Forgive me if this is rude – but how, then, do Nephilim occur? If Angels can’t fall in love, don’t have bodily urges, then how are there Nephilim?”

Jongin exhales, loudly. “I don’t have an answer for that. It’s something I’ve wondered myself, over the years. A part of me thinks it’s on purpose,” he admits. “A part of me wonders if we’re meant to experience your desires and struggles firsthand.”

Baekhyun shifts in the seat. “In what way?”

Jongin’s gaze moves to his, in the mirror. “Well,” he swallows, words weighty. “Sometimes I think this is destined. Sometimes, I wonder if we’re meant to fall – because then, when we rise, we’re able to take with us the weight.”

Attempting to follow, you stare out at the woods. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” Baekhyun says, as your head snaps around. It isn’t what you expected of him, nor is his expression what you thought it might be. He looks flustered, almost embarrassed looking down at his hands. “It’s in the Bible,” Baekhyun mumbles, prompting further surprise from your end.

Jongin just nods. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?’ you ask, trying to keep the whine from your voice. “What, exactly, is in the Bible?”

“Well, it’s an interpretation of the Bible,” Baekhyun clarifies, head dipping further towards his chest. “The idea that God became human not just to forgive our sins, but to offer comfort. In becoming human, he offered equality. It is one thing,” he states, quiet, “to hand down a law. It’s another entirely, to walk in someone else’s shoes and then offer advice. Perhaps,” Baekhyun allows, “Angels fall, to be better. By experiencing the pain of humanity, Jongin can better heal down the road.”

At first, Jongin does not react to his words. He stares at the road for so long, you contemplate touching – but then he exhales. “Exactly,” he murmurs. “I think this, as well. Thank you.”

Something passes between them, something unspoken as you look out the window. Trees flick by on either side, casting the truck in alternating shadow. It’s easy, sometimes, to forget Baekhyun’s steel. It’s easy to get lost in his quips and sarcasm and forget about the man within. A man who’s suffered, greatly, at the hands of others. His mask is so convincing and this thought makes you ache, enough that you don’t look at him when you ask, “Do you believe in God, Baekhyun?”

“Yes.” Baekhyun’s answer is quick, certain. “I find it hard not to, given what we are and what I have fought. We’re sitting in a pick-up truck with a goddamn Angel, for fuck’s sake.”

Jongin slowly closes his eyes. “A point, somewhat lessened by cursing the Lord’s name.”

“I was using it for emphasis, actually.”

Remaining silent, you look down. In your lap, your fingers play with the hem of your t-shirt as you struggle to frame your next thought. “Have you ever seen God, Jongin?”

Without moving, he states, “No.”

“You see?” you hum, sitting back in your seat. “I find it hard to believe in things I can’t feel.”

“Ah,” Jongin replies, voice softening. “That is not what you asked me. You asked me if I’ve ever seen God, not if I’ve felt him.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not,” Jongin responds, equally soft.

Baekhyun doesn’t reply, and for the rest of the ride the car is filled with silence.

The cabin is far, enough that the house you grew up in is closer than your apartment and you head there first, in the interest of time. As the scenery changes, shifting from trees to grocery chains and storefronts, you turn in your seat.

“A plan,” you blurt out, causing both men to jump.

“What?” Jongin frowns, gaze darting sideways. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”

“A plan,” you emphasize, somewhat frantic. “An explanation as to why we’re here, and why I’m bringing two strange men home with me,” you hiss, gesturing between them.

“Uh,” Baekhyun appears. “Easy, I’ll be your boyfriend – problem solved.”

“Not helping,” you groan, closing your eyes. “Jongin?”

“Here’s a wild idea,” Jongin states, turning onto your drive. “What if, we do exactly as planned, and tell your father the truth? You know, we tell him you know what you are, you’re currently training with the fallen Angel of Death whose son – a fabled monster – seeks to rise from his grave and end humanity.”

“And,” Baekhyun adds, “that you’re trying and failing to fight your attraction to the handsome man in the backseat.”

“I thought we were telling the truth,” Jongin interjects.

Baekhyun makes noise of disapproval when you groan, sliding even lower. “None of this helps,” you protest, looking out of your window.

“Y/N.” Jongin looks sideways. “You brought me, because you thought I’d be able to help explain. I’m helping now, when I say you should be honest. You should explain and give him the chance to do so in return.”

Jongin is right, you know this – and yet your heart beats uncontrollably, pulling into your drive. The house is the same, barely changed from your childhood. The same, green shutters, the same, brown stone and the walkway leading up to the front is the same, dingy grey. The sight brings with it the familiar nausea which comes from forgetting.

“Let’s go.” Jongin turns off the engine, looking at Baekhyun. “Come on, get out.”

As he exits the car, you mutely push open your door. Your feet hit the asphalt and wobble, knees bending with the weight of expectation. A dull ringing fills your ears, until Baekhyun touches your arm.

“Hey,” he breathes, waiting until you look at him. “I was kidding, earlier – know that I’m here, if you need me. You have every right to be mad at your dad, to be honest. Just… hear him out. They’re your family, after all.”

The way he says this, finite and quiet, reminds you Baekhyun has none. Well, none comparable, anyways. Lorian doesn’t count – not to you, anyways. Rage chokes your chest whenever you think about what he did to Baekhyun. “Let’s go,” you nod, resigned. “Let’s go inside.”

The walk up to your doorway is long, made even longer by the way you drag your feet. Jongin and Baekhyun don’t comment, simply follow and wait while you ring the bell. It’s barely finished, before Trina flings open the door. “Sorry, we’re not for sa – Y/N?” she blurts, eyes widening. Her gaze moves, confusedly, from the left to the right. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Trin,” you exhale, waving awkwardly. “Can we come in? There’s something I need to discuss.”

“Uh,” she blinks, gaze moving from Jongin to you. “Sure, sure – come in. But Y/N,” Trina frowns, stepping back from the door, “who is we, exactly?”

As you enter the house, it all comes rushing back. The familiar smell of soap, slightly charred food and books. Lots of books, stacked in haphazard heaps and piles. Your dad is an enthusiastic perpetrator of the idea that books should be loved, not just read but before you can walk too far, Trina throws both arms around you in a hug. “Seriously,” she hisses, into your ear. “Who are these dudes, Y/N? Dad will have a conniption, if you let strange men in the house without his permission.”

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing her back – despite the circumstances, it’s nice to see Trina. She always makes you lighter, the situation somehow better. “There’s a lot to explain,” you admit, while the door shuts behind you.

“Sorry,” Jongin apologizes, hand splayed on the door. He hovers, just inside the foyer while Baekhyun hangs awkwardly off to the side.

Trina steps back, gaze lingering on Jongin a moment too long. Rolling your eyes, you nearly groan out loud because you should have known this would happen. You should have known your sister would be interested but honestly, Trina and Jongin would be horrible. She’d walk all over him and have fun in the process.

When Baekhyun clears his throat, Trina looks his way. “Hey,” he states, waving a hand.

Your sister’s eyes narrow. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Baekhyun,” you inform, stepping between them. “He’s a friend.” Jongin snorts, turning this into a cough when you glare. “And that’s Jongin,” you add, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. “He’s perfectly angelic, when he’s not being an ass.”

Just the corner of Trina’s mouth lifts. “That so?” she muses, looking his way.

Jongin blinks, flushing – flushing – as you sigh. “Okay,” you shake your head. “That’s enough of that. Trina, where’s dad?”

Your sister turns, surprised. “Oh?” she asks, crossing her arms. “I’ve been trying to months to get you to visit, and suddenly you just decide to drop in? Why?”

“I, uh,” you stammer, struggling for an answer. It’s too sudden, to tell her like this. “I need to talk to him, Trin. I also need to talk to you, but later – this is important, not to mention time-sensitive.”

“Something,” she muses, pursing her lips, “which has to do with the Bobbsey twins, here?”

“Ah, come on – we look nothing alike,” Baekhyun complains while Jongin corrects, “Actually, the Bobbsey twins were a boy and a girl.”

The both pause, confused by the other’s answer – then shrug.

Unfazed, Trina blinks. “Whatever. It’s strange, Y/N, to show up unannounced with two, strange man I’ve never seen. One of whom,” she frowns, glancing at Baekhyun, “can’t stop looking at you – behavior which seems rather odd, considering the fact that you have a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend?” Baekhyun blurts, half-strangled.

“I don’t – I,” you falter, while thinking – shit. Shit, shit, shit. You forgot Trina is under the impression that you and Jongdae are dating. Back then, it seemed necessary but now, in retrospect, it seems foolish.  

“Fess up, Y/N,” Trina nods, stepping closer. “What’s going on? Are you in a cult, or something? Have you been kidnapped by the mafia and these two are your handlers?”

“I – what? No!” you blurt, shaking your head as your dad enters the hall.

“Trina? Did I hear the doorbell ring? I – Y/N,” your dad gasps, mouth sagging when he sees you.

His feet pause, half-out of the kitchen. In his hands, he holds a large stack of papers – ones which from here, you can’t read the titles. The shirt on his frame is too big, top button unbuttoned with his glasses perched precariously at the edge of his nose. It’s his typical state, being half-present and you wish you could say you’re more surprised.

“Hi, dad,” you sigh.

If a pin dropped, it’d be louder than this. Coming somewhat to his senses, your dad’s eyes dart to Baekhyun, Trina – they linger a moment on Jongin – before returning to you. “I see,” he states, straightening. Removing the glasses from his face, he rubs at his temple. “Is seems you and I should talk, Y/N.”

Off to your side, Trina makes a strangled noise. “What, exactly, do you see, dad? Your favorite daughter, losing her sanity?”

“No,” your dad frowns, looking between you two. “Y/N seems just fine.”

Trina’s lips twitch, trying not to laugh – and failing, as Jongin releases a breath. “Hello, again,” he waves, forcing you to twist sideways.

“I – what?” you breathe, eyes wide. “Again? Jongin, what are you talking about?”

“I think,” your dad interjects, stepping forward, “we should talk, Y/N. Trina,” he turns. “Could you please escort the gentlemen elsewhere? You’ll be safe with Jongin, I assure you. We need to talk – but later, after Y/N.”

Trina’s mouth snaps shut, hesitating briefly before she nods. “Alright,” she states, turning. “You two – out,” Trina orders, shooing them both with her hands. “Follow me, let’s go get… ice cream, or something.” Grabbing her coat from the front closet, Trina disappears out the door.

“It’s 11:00 in the morning,” Baekhyun grumbles, though he follows. “Ugh, fine – coming.”

Once they’re gone, the house returns to silence around you. You stand for a moment, listening to the sound of Jongin’s pick-up truck start – then rumble away, leaving you alone.

“So,” your dad clears his throat. “You and Jongin have met, I see.”

That’s all. Up until this point, you’ve held yourself together. Up until now, you maintained a semblance of sanity for Trina, for the others – but now. Now, faced with your father and his million, tiny lies, you’re finding it hard to breathe, let alone stand. Lips trembling, you feel your power snap and you teleport.

Appearing suddenly before him, your hands clench into your fists. “How could you?” you yell – anger and resentment brewing inside. It condenses to a ball, about to explode. “My mother, an Archangel; me, Nephilim. And you – you,” you choke, nearly spitting the words, “you are a liar.”

Flinching, your dad nearly takes a step back. “I – well, yes. Yes, it’s true, but I did it all for your own –”

“If you say protection,” you growl. “I swear that I’ll lose it.” 

Limbs shaking, your jaw remains clenched with the force of keeping your powers in check. Protection – god, how you’re beginning to hate the word. Everyone wants to protect you and ends up hurting you worse than before. 

“How did you protect me, exactly? By not telling me who I was? That didn’t help, when the Altorium attacked. That didn’t help, when Department Exes kidnapped me, when they drugged me into submission. No,” you demand, biting down on your cheek, “none of that helped me, then.”

Somewhat stunned, your dad stares at you. “If,” he whispers, voice cracked. “Using your power, means they can track you. All the years you were dormant, the years you didn’t know – you were safe, because they couldn’t find you. If I’d told you, they would have come sooner.”

“They – what?” you exhale, some of the fight leaving your body.

There’s a long moment, when your dad simply looks at you. “Not here,” he says at last, looking over your shoulder. “In the kitchen. It’s made of brickstone.”

When he turns, you walk after – it appears you don’t have a choice in the matter. You want answers and so you follow, echoing his footsteps until you enter the kitchen. He’s already at the cabinets, rummaging around for a tea kettle and tea. “I’m afraid I only have packets,” he sighs, turning around. “Trina took my strainer with her to college, and never returned it.”

“Packets are fine,” you say stiffly, sitting down at the table. Fingers drumming the surface, you look around the room. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this, sitting here in this seat. While you wait, your dad places the kettle on the stove – the two of you stew in silence, waiting for the water to boil.

It’s hard not to remember your childhood, or lack thereof. When Trina’s mom died (and Gabriel left, you realize), your dad began to fall apart. It forced you to step in, to take care of yourself and your sister – at least until your dad got it together, and you went to college. It’s something you’ve always resented; Trina knows, it’s why she rarely suggests that you visit.

You and your dad don’t talk about it much though, since you seem to have inherited your quiet stubbornness from him. It’s only on nights like tonight, when you even feel related. It’s only when he brews tea like this, sits across the table from you and listens while you pour your heart out. That’s when you feel closest. This is the first time though, that he’ll be the one explaining to you. When the mug of tea is set before you, something loosens in your chest.

“Thanks,” you mutter, reaching out for the cup.

Sliding into the chair, your dad takes a long sip and exhales. “Your mother warned me they’d come,” he states, diving right into things. “She said you’d be powerful, that there would be many rumors about you – and they would come for you, because of this.”

“They came,” you confirm, nodding. “I wasn’t prepared.”

“So you’ve said,” your dad nods, looking down. “Your Guardian was supposed to find you, once you exhibited powers – it wasn’t supposed to be like this. There are Nephilim,” he sighs, “who go their entire lives dormant, not knowing about their powers. There are some who live their whole life thinking they’re human.”

“And this would be better?” you exhale, wondrously. As much as you struggle with your powers – it seems unthinkable, to consider yourself to be anything else. “Is that the life you wanted for me? Going day to day, always feeling something was missing but never knowing?”

Your dad’s expression grows weary. “I wanted what’s best for you,” he allows. “It would have been simpler that way, you would not have been in danger.”

“But,” you whisper, hands encircling the mug, “I wouldn’t have been me. Why hide my powers from me like that – why?”

“Because,” your dad interjects, sharp, “if you didn’t know, they couldn’t find you.”

“They?”

“Demons,” he explains. “The Altorium, Department Exes – is that the government? Never mind, none of them would have been able to find you, without your powers!”

Thrown into silence, you stare at your mug. “I,” you hesitate, hearing your pulse in your mind. “It didn’t work, though. I found my powers on my own, and it’s been horrible since.”

“I see that,” your dad ventures. “At the time, I thought it was worth the risk. To give you a chance at a normal life, to give you the chance to,” he breaks, voice trembling, “live, at all.”

This, you can understand – even if you don’t like it. “Baekhyun is an Altor,” you say quietly, still not looking at him. “I guess he still found me, with all your precautions.”

“A – a what?” your dad interrupts, somewhat alarmed. When you look up, he stares over your shoulder – towards the front door. “How are you alive? Gabriel warned me about them, but here you are – and Jongin seems to trust him. What did he do, to gain such a trust?”

“Oh?” you snap, returning your gaze to his. Scrambling for power, you struggle to contain yourself. “What about me? Why aren’t you asking how Baekhyun gained my trust? Who is Jongin, dad?”

Taken aback by your tone, your dad winces. “Right – Jongin is, ah, it’s complicated. He was friends with your mother before he fell. I knew him… years ago. It’s truly remarkable,” he trails off, shaking his head. “He still looks the same.”

This is too strange to think about, so you don’t. “Why don’t I start at the beginning?” you offer resentfully.

When your dad nods, you tell him everything. The same way you used to, back when your problems weren’t life or death – back when your greatest worry could be solved with just a positive attitude. Now, your life is all prophecies and power, a world hovering at the brink of a war. You explain until the sun arches high in the sky, until it sinks back towards the horizon. Somewhere in the middle it starts to rain, but still you talk on.

There’s a lot to cover – your powers, Jongdae training you. This leads to Baekhyun, your kidnapping by Department Exes, the subsequent torture and mind games. When you reach the part of Jongdae breaking you out, you hesitate before explaining how Baekhyun came with.

At this, your father arches a brow. “Huh,” he muses.

“What?” you ask, scanning his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, hiding a smile. “It’s just something your mother would do, that’s all.”

When he says this, you flush, looking down at your mug. “Anyways. We were kept in the Department for several months, until Jongdae found us. When he did,” you hesitate, suddenly shameful, “I asked that he make you forget. I didn’t want you to know – not yet.”

“Ah. I did wonder,” your dad responds, careful. “I wondered, why I remembered none of this.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze. “You’re taking this better than I would,” you mumble. “If I found out my memories had been altered, messed with and rearranged…”

Nodding gently, your dad sighs. “I am angry. I also understand why you did it.”

These words give you pause. “You do?”

“Yes.” Looking into his newly refilled cup, your dad watches the steam. “You didn’t want me to be worried. You were also mad at me and didn’t want to have this conversation.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, knowing he’s dead on the nose.

Finishing the story, you explain about the Altorium – about the prophecy, about finding out who Jongdae truly is. Describing how Baekhyun helped you escape, you falter, remembering. Your words stutter, caught in your throat at the memory – then you force yourself onwards, push yourself forward. Yixing and Jongin are thrown in at the end, brief explanations that you gloss over.

When you’re done, the room falls quiet. It’s silent for so long, you’re scared that your dad has fallen asleep – you reach out, only for him to stir and look up. “It seems,” he starts, then stops. “It seems there is much to be sorry for. I’m sorry I left you so ill-prepared, sorry I did not begin your training sooner. I’m sorry I kept you in the dark, that I hurt you at all.”

This is not what you expected. The entire drive over, you were picturing his response. You thought he’d withdraw, fall silent, you thought you’d have this conversation with the human equivalent of a wall. Never, did you imagine he might apologize. Never, did you imagine he might mean it. Sitting across from him, tea chiling in your hands, it’s difficult to keep the moisture from your eyes.

“I thought you were safe,” he confesses, reaching out a hand. “I thought we had time, but I was wrong. The mistakes that I’ve made – they’re mine to own. I just don’t want you to be alone, from here on out.”

“I’m not,” you whisper, thinking of Jongdae. Of Baekhyun, of Yixing and Jongin. “I’m not alone.”

“Even so.” Your dad sighs, understanding. “We should have been there, me and Trina. We’re here for you now, though – whatever need you have of us.”

Vision blurring, you nod. This entire thing is a mess, since the very mistakes your dad has made – you made right back. You lied in return, you hid things from him in turn. One sin begets another, one stone begs another be thrown. Setting down your own stone, you stare at his hands.

“Honesty,” you blurt, suddenly.

Frowning, your dad arches a brow. “Pardon?”

“Honesty,” you repeat, looking up. “I’ll answer your questions, and vice versa. Sound fair?”

“It does,” he nods, withdrawing his hand. Removing his glasses from his pocket, your dad slides these onto his nose. “What do you want to know?”

Gathering your courage, you ask the one thing you’ve been waiting to know. “How did you meet?”

Looking at you, your dad’s face softens. “It was by accident,” he recounts. “My mother was dying, I held her hand in a white, narrow hospital bed. As she took her last, rattling breath I looked up, and there Gabriel was. I screamed, since I couldn’t understand how she’d gotten there and when Gabriel took my mother’s hand in her own – she looked up and saw me. Then she disappeared.”

Your dad pauses, exhales. “The next time I saw her was a car crash. There was a motorcyclist hit by a truck and I was the first responder. When I arrived at the scene, I began administering CPR – a useless endeavor, but I had to try – she appeared again.”

“She did?” you ask, somewhat breathless. “What did she say?”

“Nothing,” your dad answers, chuckling. “She was working, barely flinched – it was only when I cleared my throat that she saw me at all. Gabriel looked up in shock, but barely registered this before she was gone again. I thought that was it,” he confesses. “I thought that was the end, until I walked out of my room the next morning and found her sitting at my kitchen table.”

“What?” Leaning forward, your eyes are wide. “What did she do?”

“She yelled at me,” your dad smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She asked me what hell-sworn devil I’d sold my soul to, to see her. She didn’t believe, when I told her no one. Gabriel was an Archangel, and such things were unheard of.”

“But they did,” you observe. “They do. It happened to you.”

“Yes,” your dad nods, quiet. “I kept seeing her like that, and we eventually became friends. I was dating someone at the time, so at first it was just friendship. A remarkable one, to be sure – how often does a human meet an Archangel? I didn’t even realize,” your dad swallows, remembering, “that I was falling in love. I didn’t know what it meant, until her.”

Gabriel, Archangel of love, truth and understanding. “What happened next?”

“The woman I was dating broke my heart,” your dad confesses. “She left me, slept with her best friend and when Gabriel saw how broken I was – she cried.”

“Cried?” you repeat, amazed.

“She cried,” your dad affirms. “She felt my pain and was so shocked by this, she disappeared. She left me alone for several weeks, until one night she returned and, ah,” your dad trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Flushing furiously, you wince. “Right, let’s skip that. When I was born, how – what…?”

“Why did she leave?” your dad supplies. When you nod, he sighs. “It wasn’t by choice, Y/N. Gabriel couldn’t stay long, she was bound by her duty. Without her, the entire cosmos is weaker – love itself is weaker, humanity is weaker. It’s how I knew Jongin,” your dad explains, “since he would keep me company, when Gabriel disappeared.”

“Ah,” you exhale. “I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” your dad counters gently, laying a hand on your own. You look up in surprise. “Your mother loves you, Y/N. It tore her to pieces, not being there for you – it,” he hesitates, then continues, “it was the first time she ever considered falling.”

“Falling?” you repeat, the entire room seeming to ring. “You can… choose to fall?”

“Everything is a choice, Y/N,” your dad says heavily. “When she offered me this, I couldn’t accept. I told her to leave, and for that I am sorry,” he admits, quiet. “I thought I could be enough for you, I couldn’t stand the thought of binding her here. At the end, I let her go – and it’s because of me, that you grew up without a mother. I understand if you’re angry,” he finishes.

You are. You’re angry with him, but more at the situation. It would be a lie, to say that you’re not but beneath it all, there’s a kernel of understanding. If Jongdae came to you tomorrow, if he offered you that same choice – to be cast down forever, in order to stay with you. You would make the same decision your dad made. To bind an Angel to earth, stripping away everything he loves – the very thought is abhorrent to you.

“Can I meet her?” you ask instead, barely more than a whisper.

Sitting straighter, your dad nods. “When your mother left,” he begins, thoughtful. “She told me three things. The first was that she loved you. The second, she explained how to protect you. The third, she said that she’d come if you called.”

All around you, the world seems to slow. “This entire time,” you breathe. “I could have called her, and she would’ve come?”

“I imagine it’s a bit more complicated than that,” your dad allows. “But yes, essentially.”

This thought quiets you, forces you to consider things you haven’t before. In theory, you want to meet. In theory, you want to meet Gabriel and ask her everything you’ve asked your father – more, even. Having this conversation with your dad though, the reaction was known. You know your dad, you love your dad – you knew even if this conversation went poorly, he would still love you in return. With Gabriel, you don’t know.

Then, there’s the thing which has been eating you whole. The thing which keeps you awake at night, knowing that your hands are no longer clean. It seems impossible, unthinkable to imagine Gabriel will welcome you with open arms – not when you’ve killed, when your palms remain stained and bloodied.

Taking a deep breath, you look up. “What do you think she’ll say,” you ponder, voice shaky, “when I tell her I’ve killed someone?”

Your dad’s eyes widen – only for a moment, but it’s there. You wince, looking down in your mug because the fear was plain, worry was plain, and you wonder if your dad ever considered the prophecy in a different light. There’s another option, one where you’re not the savior and you wonder if your dad ever considered this possibility before. You wonder if he does now, knowing what he knows.

“Well,” your dad leans back in his seat. “I imagine she already knows, Archangel that she is. I also imagine,” he exhales, voice soft, “if she knows you like I do, she’ll understand your reasons.”

He speaks with such quiet confidence that is loosens the knot in your chest. “I didn’t,” you hesitate, voice catching. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to save Baekhyun, trying to free him and someone got in my way. I only meant to freeze him,” you choke, vision blurring at the corners, “and he died, instead.”

Across the table, your dad nods. “I imagine that must’ve been terrifying. I also imagine… you’ve feared yourself, since.”

Startled, you look up.

“I’ll admit, I wondered,” your dad nods, confirming. “I wondered why you decided to come to me now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you did – but still, I wondered. Why now?”

Confused, you frown. “I just wanted to talk to you, I don’t know.”

“Mm,” he nods, tilting his head. “It’s a common fallacy, to assume most demons come from the outside. This Baekhyun, your Altor, he fought demons before, yes?”

“I – he’s not my Altor,” you correct, heat rising to your cheeks. “He – yes, he does. He’s fought demons before.”

“Right,” your dad nods, hiding a smile. “He fights them physically, destroys them and sends them to someplace physical. These are not the only demons in our world. There are ones which are far more sinister, ones which belong only to humans by design.”

“Because of free will?” you venture, and he nods.

“Making our own decisions, means there’s no one to blame when things go wrong. The weight of this is heavy, both a great strength and horrible weakness. You know this,” he allows, meeting your gaze, “because you experienced it firsthand – watching me, I’d imagine.”

The causes you to freeze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s okay,” your dad assures. “I know your childhood was burdensome. I lost myself to my demons, time and time again – all this, at the cost of you and your sister. It’s why you’re here now, to ask how I was able to change.”

Staring at him from across the table, you recognize yourself and in that, you see that he’s right. In the back of your mind, you thought he might be able to help. “Perhaps,” you admit.

“It’s alright,” your dad affirms, reaching out for you. He takes your hand in his. “Wrong decisions, wrong outcomes – this isn’t something you can run away from, or avoid. You will continue to make mistakes, because you will continue to be human. It’s also human to learn though, to grow – you are not a bad person, just because you make a bad decision.”

“How do you know?” you repeat, barely audible. Looking down at his hands, you trace the lines with your eyes. “What if the prophecy is right, and not in a good way? What if I raise Noah, not to save the earth but to raze it? What if my powers aren’t great enough to stop him?”

“Ah, Y/N,” your dad exhales, shaking his head. “You’re thinking about this all wrong. You’re a hero, with or without your powers. That prophecy is a product of the person it’s about, it’s not set in stone and as someone who’s loved you, who’s watched you grow – you are absolutely a hero. I can feel it,” he affirms, touching his hand to his heart.

The words crack the walls within you, echo Jongin’s words from earlier and suddenly broken, you can’t help the tear which rends through your soul. It releases power, trickling into your veins like rain after a drought. It makes breathing somehow easier, as though a great weight has been lifted and on the table before you, your hand tightens in his.

“Dad,” you exhale, voice cracking. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, rubbing your thumb with his own. “Advice isn’t a one size fits all kind of glove, Y/N. You’ll continue to grow from everything around you. But,” he frowns, as though just realizing something. “In all that you’ve said, you never mentioned what next. What will you do, once Jongin’s Nephilim is returned?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “The Altorium is still out there, Department Exes will be looking for us as well. Especially, once Jongdae and Yixing get Kimmy.”

Nodding, your dad looks at the table. “Well, you can stay as long as you like. At least, you can if you want to,” he hastens.

“I’d like that,” you agree, soft. “If the others are fine with it, we can stay until figuring this out.”

“Good,” your dad nods, standing from his chair to reach for his phone. “Better text Trina, tell her they can come back.”

“Oh, god,” you laugh, standing as well – in the corner of your eye, you can already see several missed texts. “What have they been doing, this entire time?”

“I’m sure I can’t guess,” your dad muses, seeming less concerned than yourself. “Jongin and Trina will be fine, I’m sure.”

“That’s not who I’m worried about,” you mutter, unlocking your phone – just as the front door opens, banging against the wall.

“We’re back!” Trina calls, stalking into the kitchen. Flopping across from you at the table, she points a finger accusatorily. “You, Angel-born,” Trina grunts. Pausing, she lets you squirm before all malice falls from her face. “This explains so much, Y/N. It explains why you were such a good dancer, and I sucked at ballet – you have the natural grace of an angel! Meanwhile, I, a mere mortal –”

“Oh, lord,” you groan, lowering your face to your hands.

Trina laughs, delighted. “Can you say that, even?” she teases, poking your arm. “Can you use the lord’s name in vain, and all that – will you just burst into flames, like in a cartoon?”

“She’s not cursed, or something,” Jongin drawls, entering the room. He smiles at your dad, crossing the kitchen to shake his hand. “It’s been too long.”

Staring at the two of them, you wonder if this will ever not be weird. It’s odd to think about, Jongin knowing your father twenty years prior – and still looking the same. When they separate, still smiling, Baekhyun clears his throat from behind them.  “All that,” he sighs, walking into the room, “and we didn’t even get ice cream.”

“Shove it,” Trina rolls her eyes, “you psycho stalker.”

Brows lifting, you stare between them. “Uh,” you half-laugh, baffled. “Trin, what are you talking about?”

Wincing, Jongin pushes a hand through his hair. “That’s my fault,” he interjects. “Baekhyun was pretty worried, so I offered to fill Trina in on everything that’s happened so far. I’m afraid I did a rather poor job of it. You know,” he pauses, considering. “I’m still not sure I fully understand what happened.”

“What’s there to understand?” Trina demands. “That human nightlight was supposed to kill my sister. After stalking her for half a second, he got a giant boner and decided to be friends. I don’t trust him,” she announces, ignoring the noise your dad makes, at the use of the word ‘boner.’ “I’m still holding out hope for original boyfriend.”

“Who, Jongdae?” you ask, slightly dazed by the conversation. “Trin, we were never dating. That was just an excuse, to explain why he was in my room.”

Baekhyun’s expression lightens. “Oh,” he exhales, leaning against the wall. “That makes sense. And,” he frowns, glaring at Trina, “I did not get a boner for your sister, I –”

“Guys,” Jongin groans, rubbing his face. “Can we please stop using the word boner?”

“We were kidnapped,” Baekhyun insists, uninterrupted, “and I don’t know, shit happened!”

“Shit happened,” your sister deadpans. “Do the Hallmark people know about you?”

“Look,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, exasperated. “When we were trapped, I –”

“And that’s another thing,” Trina interrupts, over the sound of your protest, “you two were kidnapped, held against your will and you bonded? Hello, Stockholm Syndrome! You need to take a step back, human boy, and –”

“You’re human, too! Besides, Stockholm Syndrome is for when you sympathize with your captor, not –”

The front door to your house bangs open. Baekhyun pauses, mid-sentence as his head swivels over his shoulder. You jump to your feet, world seeming to move in slow-motion as you rush towards the hall. Skidding around the corner, your suspicions are confirmed by the sight of Jongdae, stumbling in from the rain.

He's limping, this is the first thing you notice – the second, is that he’s not alone. Jongdae struggles, heaving forward with a half-conscious woman’s arms slung over his neck. Kimmy, you realize, as Jongin runs up behind you. Her hair is dark, wet while she sputters angrily against the rain. Lifting a wrist, she dries herself with a limp, angry flick of her finger.

“Kimmy,” Jongin gasps, nearly bowling you over in his haste to get to her.

You yelp, carreing sideways into Jongdae, who awkwardly catches you before sinking into the wall. Jongin doesn’t seem to notice, too busy transferring Kimmy’s weight to his own. When you realize you’re crushing Jongdae, you move – only for your stomach to sink, taking in his appearance.

“What happened?” you gasp.

“Y/N,” Jongdae breathes, chest rising and falling. His eyes are rimmed red, a purplish bruise blossomed on the side of his neck. “The rescue was more difficult than we imagined.”

“How?” you whisper, frozen in place. “What do you mean?”

“Kimmy wasn’t alone,” Jongdae informs – and with a sinking feeling, you realize who’s absent.

“Yixing.” As though plunged into ice, you stumble away. “Where is Yixing, Jongdae?”

Almost on cue, he appears in the door. “Present,” Yixing mutters, hair plastered to his face. His voice is strained, the reason apparent when you notice him pulling a man in from the yard. The man is unfamiliar to you – face pale, hair askew and dark, like Yixing’s.

While you stare at the two of them, Yixing drops the man to the floor – his own legs wobbily follow, one knee striking after the next. It’s a strange sight, to be sure – Yixing kneeling before a stranger, as cold, dark rain falls from beyond.

Jongdae clears his throat and when you look at him, you recognize some of his color has returned. “Yixing is fine,” he assures, pushing hair back from his face. “I’ll be fine, too, once I’ve rested. The trip became complicated when we realized Kimmy was not alone in her cell.”

“Not alone?” Jongin demands, voice overly loud. He stares at the man, long limbs sprawled before Yixing, as comprehension dawns. The man was being held with Kimmy, which implies –

“Nephilim,” you whisper, still staring. “But who is he?”

“That,” Yixing groans, looking up from the ground. “Is exactly what we intend to find out.”

[Master List]

Author’s Note: Hello, new addition to the Guardian/Ascension world :) This chapter got away from me. LOL

[themurphyzone]

Aspects Ch 7

I had to divide this chapter into sections cause there’s a lot and it was getting long. 

Ch 7: Child: Sons in Turmoil

The commotion had drawn almost every aspect out to the balcony. The Shell remained on the couch, uncaring and infallible as always. 

“Norm doesn’t want everything to return to normal. Or as normal as it’ll ever be around here anyway,” Vanessa said quietly. Perry rubbed circles on her back, comforting her the best he could. 

He knew Norm had never been subtle about voicing his displeasure with Perry and Vanessa’s plan to retrieve the aspects. This was the longest period that Norm had received Heinz’s attention without the scolding. 

Perry perched on the edge of the balcony, motioning for everyone to stand back while he opened his glider. 

“I’ll stay with Vanessa,” the Father said, draping his arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. “I’m trusting you with Norm, Perry the Platypus. Don’t you dare hurt him more than necessary.” 

He was surprised the Father admitted hurting Norm was inevitable. Or that he hadn’t tried knocking him off the edge of the building. 

“How come you never said anything about Norm’s A.I allowing him to mimic human emotions?” the Scientist demanded. “I really need to find his instruction manual so I can know what other capabilities he has!” 

Thoughtless rolled his eyes. “It was obvious. Get your head out of your toolbox and step outside once in a while.” 

“And he’s not mimicking emotions,” the Father muttered. 

“Dad, please don’t start,” Vanessa said. “That goes for you too.” She pointed to Thoughtless, who scoffed at being singled out. 

The Performer leaned on the edge next to Perry, oblivious to the argument between the other three aspects. “There was a kid earlier. All the commotion we were making before we split up probably scared him off,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It’s like he didn’t want attention but still wanted attention. You know, when I put it that way it sounds confusing but I swear it’s true.” 

Perry gave him a thumbs-up, grateful for some information he could actually use. Then he took off, hoping this would be the final time he would need to comb through the city in search of an aspect. 

“The Aspect-inator is ready to go,” the Scientist reported. “Haven’t tested it yet. Maybe I should try hitting that pizza place down the street and try separating the ham and pineapple combo.” 

Vanessa shook her head. “Please don’t. If the OWCA sees it firing, they’ll alert Perry, or another agent. And whoever comes over might not be willing to reason.” 

The Scientist opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it when the Father glared at him distrustfully. 

“She’s got a point,” Thoughtless admitted. “Since you’re handling the inator, I give it two seconds before it blows up in your face like literally everything else.” 

“Anyway, why are you and Perry the Platypus so focused on this mission?” the Performer asked. “The rest of these guys wouldn’t be nearly that endearing to an audience. No offense.” 

Thoughtless rolled his eyes. “I’m taking plenty of offense. Pretty sure they’re just trying to fix something we did. That’s how it usually goes. They wind up with our mess.” 

Vanessa didn’t have the energy to correct him. She sat on the opposite side of the couch from the Shell, though she didn’t find his constant silence reassuring. 

Like his dad, Norm wasn’t one for subtlety. He lay flat on his stomach, half of his body poking out from an alleyway. His legs swung up and down above the sidewalk, and several people were forced out into the street to avoid them.

“THEN I SPILLED PIPING HOT COFFEE ON THE EVIL ROBOT AND SAVED MY DAD FROM BEING PHARMACIST PUREE!” Norm exclaimed.

“Cool! I save my family from witches and evil spirits all the time, but....” a familiar squeaky voice faltered, and the conversation shifted into an uneasy lull. 

Perry landed on a building above them, quickly ducking next to a chimney for additional cover. 

A child was peeking at Norm over a small stack of cardboard boxes. His clothing was outdated by several decades, and his beak-like nose stuck comically across the surface of a box. 

Heinz only had a few childhood pictures, and they all seemed rather dull and lifeless. Because Perry had been part of countless family photos with the Flynn-Fletchers, it was almost shocking to see half an album where nobody looked happy at all.

Norm had found the last aspect, and Perry doubted he would be nearly as cordial this time. 

“BUT WHAT?” Norm asked. 

The Child shifted uncomfortably. “...they don’t say thanks. Mother says thanks to Roger. She doesn’t to me. And Father...I don’t know. He just yells.” 

“MY DAD DOESN’T SAY IT UNTIL HIS LIFE IS IN DANGER,” Norm quipped. “BUT HE SAYS I’M A PILE OF SCRAP METAL.” 

“Is being a pile of scrap metal the same as being a schnitzel?” the Child wondered. 

“SCHNITZEL GENERALLY REFERS TO MEAT THAT HAS BEEN COATED IN BEATEN EGGS, FLOUR, AND BREAD CRUMBS, THEN FRIED IN OIL OR FAT. MY SENSORS INDICATE THAT YOU ARE HUMAN AND NOT A SCHNITZEL.” 

“Um, thanks?” the Child said awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to that statement. “Piles of scrap metal can’t talk. And you work just fine.” 

Norm stood up, his mouth flipping into a grin. “THANK YOU FOR THOSE KIND WORDS. NOW THAT MY DAD’S NEGATIVE QUALITIES ARE THEIR OWN ENTITY, HE CAN NO LONGER DENY THAT I AM HIS SON. YOU’LL BE APPRECIATED AND NEVER YELLED AT AGAIN IF YOU JOIN ME.” 

He held out his hand, patiently waiting for the Child to take it. 

Perry crouched against the edge of the roof, preparing to intervene. He couldn’t allow Norm to take such drastic measures. The Child shuffled forward, a wary yet hopeful look on his face. His hand stretched forward....

Then he pulled back, looking down at the ground shamefully. 

“I can’t. I can’t just leave. They care. They’re toughening me up. They’ve gotta care if they’re doing that,” the Child’s voice quivered. 

“BUT WOULD IT KILL THEM TO SAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU?” Norm asked. 

“I don’t...I mean...sorry...” the Child stammered, taking a step back. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.” 

Perry climbed down the fire escape as fast as he could, putting himself between the Child and Norm. He spread his arms out to signal Norm to stop. 

“I KNEW YOU WOULD FOLLOW ME, PERRY THE PLATYPUS,” Norm said, forming a fist and raising it above his head. 

Perry pushed the Child to the ground, then crouched in front of him for protection. “I WARNED YOU BEFORE. DON’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME.” 

Now there was a possibility of dangerously injuring someone if Norm hit a building. He would have to draw Norm out into the open. It was risky though. He ran a risk being spotted by the Flynn-Fletchers. 

OWCA would probably write him up for attracting the attention of a crowd or the media, who could easily compromise his identity. 

A hand brushed his back, and Perry almost lost his balance out of surprise. He turned to see the Child timidly averting his gaze. “He’s just scared,” he mumbled. “You shouldn’t hurt him if he’s scared.” 

And Perry was reminded of another child. His optimism was both boundless and contagious, and his smile could brighten up a dark room better than any light bulb. 

The Child had the potential to be like Phineas Flynn, but his parents stifled and feared any creativity he had. 

But they never succeeded in stomping out his empathy. 

Norm hadn’t brought his fist down yet. He towered over them, but his arm remained raised. Almost as if he was waiting for something. 

Now that he knew Norm wouldn’t harm the Child, Perry couldn’t keep using him as a shield.

He tensed, keeping his eyes on the opening to the left of Norm. If he could just get out to the main road, he could minimize the damage to any structures nearby. 

After a mental count to three, Perry sprinted for the street, sliding underneath Norm’s outstretched leg as he tried to block his escape route. 

Norm’s head spun to face him before the rest of his body did. 

“I WANTED A DAY WITH MY DAD. AND I GOT IT. ONLY FOR YOU TO TAKE IT AWAY!” Norm’s voice rose, his sentences punctuated with each punch he tried to throw. 

People were already taking their phones out and recording. More joined with every second that passed. 

Perry dodged another attack, which hit the base of a tree instead. It gave Perry an idea. He just needed to find an oak surrounded by acorns to get the squirrel out of his chest cavity. 

A van with a satellite swerved around the multiple potholes, trying to get close to the action. 

OWCA was going to have his head for this. 

[weerd1]

Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1909.02: Missions Reviewed, “Ferengi Love Songs,” “Soldiers of the Empire,” and “Children of Time.”

Quark’s bar is overrun with voles as “Ferengi Love Songs” opens, and Rom tries to cheer him up by announcing his engagement to Leeta.  That of course fails miserably, so Rom suggests Quark go visit Moogie on Ferengenar.  Quark goes there to find the Grand Nagus hiding in his closet, where the head of the Ferengi financial empire is having a secret love affair with Quark’s mom Ihska! 

Quark immediately begins to propose that Zek reinstate his Ferengi Business License, but Zek refuses. He sees another opportunity though when Brunt, FCA, beams into his closet to offer the license back in exchange for Quark breaking up Zek and Moogie so the Nagus doesn’t get caught in a scandal.  Meanwhile, Rom, thinking he’s not being Ferengi enough creates a prenup for Leeta that prevents her from ever owning property or making profit. This of course ends the engagement. When he laments to O’Brien, O’Brien ask him what Leeta’s worth. Rom donates all of his latinum to Bajoran war orphans, so when Leeta marries him he will know it is for love. On Ferenginar, Zek, grateful to Quark for letting him know about “rumors” that Ishka was making profit, appoints him as first clerk. Quark realizes that Zek is having memory problems, and Ishka has actually been the brains behind the great Ferenginar expansions of the last couple of fiscal years. When the Ferengi market tanks, the FCA wants to bring Zek in for questioning, and Quark realizes Brunt set all of this up so he could seize the position of Nagus. When the inquiry comes, Zek aces it, and the FCA has to back off. Zek thanks Quark, who tells him all the advice actually came from Ishka, and that they should really be together. 

With the couple reunited, Brunt decides to let Quark keep his business license, just so Brunt can watch him like a hawk. Ishka gives Quark back his favorite toys as a kid, “Marauder Mo” action figures, that would have been worth more left in the original packaging.

Quark’s ever cascading financial difficulties come to a head in this episode, but he manages to pull it all together.  The romance is pretty funny, as is the internal workings of Ferengi society. We see Cecily Adams step into the role of Ishka here since Andrea Martin who played her earlier couldn’t continue to wear the extensive prosthetics. Wallace Shawn is always great as Zek, and Jeffrey Combs really needs his own Star Trek series where he just plays every role. Also- bonus picture of Quark with his Marauder Mo figures, sporting the energy whips the Ferengi had on TNG when they were really meant to be the villains.

“Soldiers of the Empire” has Martok take command of the Rotarran, a Bird of Prey with a bad history and broken crew who need to find a missing Klingon cruiser along the Cardassian border. He asks Worf to be his First Officer, and Jadzia signs on as science officer. Morale on the ship is bad, and as they conduct their mission, Worf begins to suspect that Martok may be a little gunshy after his time in Jem’Hadar custody.

 The crew is volatile, some defeatist, some ready to try to overthrow Martok the old fashioned way, some simply apathetic, their fire gone.  When Martok orders them NOT to fire on a lone Jem’Hadar over whom they could have an easy victory, things get worse; when they find the other Klingon ship, but Martok won’t cross the border to rescue survivors, it comes to a head. Worf orders the Rotarran ahead anyway and challenges Martok to combat. As they fight, Worf gets the advantage, but suddenly the tide shifts, and Martok sinks a knife into his gut. 

The crew now behind him, his warrior spirit ignited, Martok leads them to rescue the other Klingons and fight some Jem’Hadar. Back on DS9 Martok confronts Worf, telling him he realizes exactly what he did; unified the crew and re-energized Martok by losing. “But how did you know I wouldn’t kill you?” Martok asks.  Worf replies that he didn’t.  Martok in gratitude adopts Worf into the House of Martok.

All Klingons, all the time! This episode really does play out as if the show were just about the Rotarran, and it gives us a good chance to see the Klingons up close, and not just as the monolith warrior culture, but as having personalities, and differences, and there being diversity among them; there are red-head and blonde Klingons in this episode! I definitely see a few things they do here that will later inform how the Klingons are portrayed on “Discovery.” They finally show us some uniform variants here, and we get to see some of what passes for nautical custom in the Klingon fleet when Worf requests the ship’s “battle log.” Worf becoming part of Martok’s house is going to have ramifications later.  I have heard people complain that Jadzia is too good at being Klingon sometimes, but when you take into account that Terry Farrell is six feet tall, I can buy her handling herself here.

“Children of Time” has the Defiant returning from a mission in the Gamma Quadrant when Dax surveys a planet with a strange energy barrier around it. Though everyone is tired, she convinces them to go investigate. When they enter the barrier, they get some damage, it will take a couple days to fix, and Kira gets a zap from her console. They find a mostly human settlement of 8000 people on the surface, which hails them, and seems to know who they are. Beaming down, they find a Yedrin Dax and a Miranda O’Brien. Scanning, Jadzia finds that Yedrin is carrying the Dax symbiont…and it is 200 years older. 

The colonists tell them that in two days the Defiant will try to leave the planet, and instead crash after being thrown back in time by the energy barrier. These are their descendants.  Further complicating the issue is that the zap Kira received has created a condition which will kill her if she doesn’t receive treatment in a full hospital. But if the Defiant does go back, 8000 people, and their preceding generations cease to exist.  Still alive is Odo, who comes to visit Kira, and tells her that he loves her, and has always loved her. Yedrin meanwhile has a plan to allow the same effect that “doubled” all of Kira’s quantum particles to allow one version of the Defiant to escape, and another to complete its destiny a go back in time to preserve the colony. Jadzia soon realizes it is a sham. The crew debates whether they can leave, saving Kira but allowing the rest to poof out of existence, or stay. As the day arrives they decide to help the people plant their crops, despite the fact it will all be gone when Defiant leaves. Worf works with the local “Klingons” who are his descendants both physically and philosophically- anyone can decide to take on the warrior life and hunt as the Klingons out on the plains.

 Older Odo spends more time with Kira (“modern” Odo can’t hold form under the energy field, but old Odo has had centuries to practice), and she realizes she cannot allow her life to supersede 8000 others. O’Brien, who initially just wanted to back to his family, now sees that they can’t let these people die- worse, never to have existed at all. The Defiant crew decides to go ahead with the course that will make them crash. Yedrin gives them a preprogrammed course, and they follow it. The anomaly that will throw them back looms ahead, and then the Defiant swerves around it. As they leave the energy field, a scan back to the planet shows there has never been a colony there. Initially, they believe Yedrin Dax gave them a false course, choosing not to sacrifice their futures for the colony, but Odo, now back, reveals that the colony’s Odo linked with him, and he was the one who changed the course because he refused to let Kira die, and hoped there might be some chance that Odo could find happiness with her.

A really great episode, that sells the descendants of our crew exceptionally well, particularly all the O’Briens and the Klingon “tribe.” A really fascinating way as well to bring Odo’s love for Kira to the light, and not to avoid the tragic ending.  There may be some inconsistency with Trek time travel here, as the creation of alternate realities is the norm when things are changed, but the tragedy of this group of people simply winking out of existence works effectively here.  The romantic in my can accept the quantum “Parallels” and “Trek 2009” version that says there’s a timeline where the Children of Time still exist, but their disappearance still hits pretty hard. This is the “Trolley Problem” presented to us as only Science Fiction can, and it works with terrific—and sorrowful—effect. 

  NEXT VOYAGE: The final fate of the Maquis is settled in a “Blaze of Glory.”

[supernaturaldrabblerequests]

2 days, 1 hour, 37 minutes

"I think they just wanted you to know that they loved you." One of the Winchester brothers offered softly, handing the phone back.

Castiel could not look away from the final text message. It was send precisely

3 days 14 hours and 26 minutes ago.

What was this dark place that has opened up inside my chest?

Castiel did not agree with Sam's conclusion. He knew his friends, and his lover better than the platitudes offered up by social norms. It was logical within the confines of friendship that Sam and Dean would try to emotionally comfort him. He did not have dopamine or serotonin, so he did not have emotions. He was an Angel of the Lord. He was above such human trivialities.

Then what is this void that feels like something essential is missing?

Their sentiments only revealed that they were preparing their minds for the worst. Unacceptable. His love was alive.

What does this word really mean?

I love you Castiel.

I've always loved you.

I'm sorry I didn't say it enough. This will be the last time. I am fading.

I love you.

He had observed it before. He understood the motions, the patterns, the physicality. No atoms truly dictated love. It seemed different, unexplainable like a quantum swerving yet unobservable in the science, the laws God created.

They had loved him. Loved Castiel.

4 days 22 hours 19 minutes.

The unidentifiable remains of a body were found, along with the cell phone that had sent the final text. Sam watched as it burned, heart heavy with emotion.

"I'm sorry for you loss Cas. They felt it was important in their last moments to tell you how they really felt."

1 month 16 days 19 hours 22 minutes

There would never be another text.

Not for infinity. Never.

The confluence of a trillion decisions, a million rules, thousands of failures, evolution and sheer chance had created this unique soul who had graced his presence. But, Only for a breath in the scheme of the universe. But, that breath of the universe was the first time Castiel understood beauty. He understood the fleeting tragedy of human life.

He felt his heart, it burst with emotion as if he was burning. He burned from the things he had done in the name of God, in the name of heaven. The ache remained.

One year six months 14 days and 49 minutes.

He stared at the phone.

I love you.

They had so little time. It was a gift.

Dean had brought him back, had brought them all back.

He thought again to the Confluence of all of the actions and all of the laws that the Universe had to enact for this very moment in time to exist and this very situation to arise.

Dean is a breath of the universe. And Sam. Just like you.

Castiel typed back. Wishing the text would be read. Finally knowing how to reply.

I loved you too.

I just didn't know it at the time.

I'm sorry I didn't appreciate our time together. I promise not to make the same mistake twice.

He sent the text. His lesson learned. He would not squander the time he had left with his friends, his family, his love.

He reached out, grasping the hand of his affection. His eyes wide, bare to the Universe. He took a breath.

"Dean, I love you."

[midweekupdate]

04/16/14

I blame my mother for making me homicidally impotent. I have not been able to kill since her visit last week. Do you know what that means? That is a week and a half in which I have not taken the life of another human being. A week and a half in which I have not violently released on some poor innocent victim. I am beyond frustrated, I am enraged. You must understand, dear readers, I am not known for my calm nature or my ability to abstain from my natural urges but this week has been a serious test of my patience. No, not patience. This feels more like torture. Patience is one thing. I have great patience. The anticipation can keep me going for days.  Holding the knife in my hand, watching the victim from a far, waiting until they’re alone. Knowing that eventually I will be able to make my move and watch as their life leaves their body and I can finally find release. That’s what it is, for me: a release. A primal urge. A physical, emotional and mental abandonment of social norms in favor of pure and unadulterated pleasure. And there is a pleasure to be had, dear readers. A sinful kind of pleasure that only comes from being in complete control of another person. There is no feeling like it. Knowing that their life is in your hands; knowing that with a flick of your wrist you can steal their last breath, bottle it up and take it with you wherever you go. Knowing that when you come back to that special place where you took them away, the memories will come flooding back and you can relive that pleasure over and over again. And my mother has taken that away from me. I don’t even know what happened. After the incident on Saturday night – the one involving a hammer and a certain laundry machine that we will never speak about again – I slept in and woke up refreshed the next morning. I didn’t really feel the urge to kill which is not uncommon. I can hold out for days before the need overtakes me. Which is also why I wasn’t surprised when last Tuesday rolled around and I found a victim. She works at the grocery store – she told me that she just started working there last month. I’ll call her Sally. Sally was a perfect little victim: isolated, beautiful, naïve. It took me all of twenty minutes to talk her into walking me to my car. In the alley. Where there are no security cameras. And no place to park a car. As I said: naïve. I was this close to bashing her head in with a lead pipe, to watching the blood fly across the bricks like a painting as her skull fractured and she hit the wall, landing in a beautiful, isolated, naïve heap. Sadly, there was a man walking down the alley towards us as we turned the corner. There was no time to take them both out so I thanked her for her time and went on my way. I thought I could hold out for a few more days. Last Friday, after I posted the update, I realized that it had been a week since I’d killed and I was feeling the urge stronger than ever. It was like drums pounding through my skin every time I locked eyes with someone knowing I could be the last face they saw. It gave me such a rush and, if I’m being honest, I might have been more than a little eager. I had my victim all picked out. It was going to be Sally. I would not let her live when she should have died days ago. It was my right to decide. I was so careful this time. I made sure that there was no one around, no security cameras, no alternative exits other than the one in my hand. A lead pipe. The same lead pipe. I wanted the opportunity to destroy her pretty face if need be. But mostly, I needed to recreate that moment – make sure I could recreate that moment. Maybe that was my problem. I don’t remember the last time I was so desperate to get a fix, I wasn’t thinking properly. I lured Sally into the alley behind the grocery store, I raised the lead pipe above my head when she turned her back… And then this image of my mother and her disapproving face came into my mind and I froze. I can’t believe I froze. Mother just kept staring at me and staring at me and usually I can channel my frustration into bludgeoning my victims but this time… this time I was left standing there with the murder weapon above my head while my victim was bent over tying her shoelaces. Any moment now she would turn around and I would lose my chance to mash her pretty face in. I threw the pipe away. I tossed it to the side into a patch of tall grass so she wouldn’t see and I let her go. Again. I thought maybe it was just a fluke – maybe there was something about Sally that wouldn’t let me do the deed. It’s never happened before but there’s always the possibility. But I kept trying. Over the weekend I tried to run over a pedestrian, poison my waiter, stab my cab driver (I totaled my car when I swerved to avoid the pedestrian; James is not happy), even strangle my mail woman from behind. Every single time I got close I would see my mother and I wouldn’t be able to finish. What the hell has she done to me? James has been so supportive in all of this. On Monday when I confessed why the car was totaled he offered to pick out a victim for me. Make it quick and simple. He was convinced that I just needed to do it once and I would be back on track but it’s not working. We went down to gang territory. All I had to do was pull the trigger for fuck’s sake. My fucking mother cock-blocked me again. I don’t know what that woman did to make me like this but it needs to stop NOW! It’s like I’m functioning normally but as soon as I get to that moment of release, the feeling dies – and not in a good way. The desire is there. It’s so strong. It’s all I can think about but I can’t go through with it. I need release. There’s too much pent up energy. I need my fucking release. It has now been 12 days, 7 hours and 16 minutes since I last killed someone. I am getting dangerously desperate, dear victims. Pray you don’t pass me on the street when I finally snap. And I will snap. I have to. As always, dear readers. Stay Safe

[lydiaabroad]

Journal #4: April Feelings

Hello there. As I said in my last blog, I have been having a tough time since returning from CRHP in Jamkhed. It was an incredible experience and place to be, I think I could see myself returning as an intern in the next few years. The experience also confirmed for me that I prefer rural India to urban India, as I have experienced them. The sense of community is so palpable in rural settings and the power of support really drew me in.

I have been feeling a bit trapped lately in the routines of going to class, doing work, and being at home. I love Indian food but if I eat another potato doused in oil I might cry. I would love to eat a vegetable other than a potato, which I do not consider to be much of a vegetable in the first place. I could maybe shift my thoughts around this small complaint though to see it as part of the thread sewing together a grander, more colorful quilt of this experience. Three servings of potatoes a day definitely create a thick thread.

The potatoes form part of the thread, as does the whistle of the neighborhood security watchman blowing a series of ferociously loud blows throughout the night, the bodies of people pushing through markets, the calls of rickshaw drivers trying to get a rider, the bright colors of women’s kurtas on the train, the strange smells of sewage that settle in the air at night, the laughter of children playing in the park, the constant honks of cars, the pressing of two hands together at the chest with a slight bow of the head, these passing moments and background noise weave the larger patches of my life here together. I feel I am in a unique position of outsider in which I am able to notice these bits of humdrum with a slight fascination, and at this point, appreciation. There is a style of embroidery I have been particularly drawn to in my time here that I believe is called Kantha, in which a running stitch spans the length of the garment, say a scarf, going over any prints or patterns on the fabric. The stitches often have a variety of colors throughout and pop out on top of the pattern of the garment. From first look, the combination of patterns doesn’t seem to make sense, to see so many stitches seems to distract from the beautiful pattern under it, but I have found it to feel incredibly organic and tangible. I like that the stitches and the pattern can clash, feel overly busy, they create a more interesting and detailed piece as a whole. My little experiences each day are the same.

It’s funny now as I reflect on my experience here how certain aspects of life I never considered before coming here are now the highlights of my days. I love taking the metro. I love to just sit and stare out the window at all the different types of apartments, at the clothes hanging from balconies and lines. On the metro I love seeing everyone’s outfits. On weekends especially, families are together and tend to dress up a lot, so women wear their saris, and the metro platform is a rainbow of color. I think I will miss this when I go home. Wearing color is such an intrinsic part of life here and it really does make everything seem more alive and beautiful.

Another unexpected joy is walking around. I have always enjoyed walking, but it’s very interesting to walk in different neighborhoods in Delhi. The Lodhi Colony area consists of huge boulevards with magnificent trees framing the road. Nearly no one walks on these sidewalks and they’re some of the biggest I have seen in Delhi. On a Saturday exploring alone I decided I would walk between my sightseeing spots since getting from one to another was always less than two miles. I enjoyed feeling alone for the first time in a while, but I also enjoyed coming to turn circles and playing a game with traffic as I tried to get across.

I especially enjoy walking in highly congested areas. I went with a friend to a grocery mart type of store that sold foods, cheap clothes, anything you could want, in a neighborhood called Gobind Puri. On the walk back to the metro it began to get dark and the sides of the road lit up with lights shining on clothing, vegetable carts, jewelry. On my right side was rushing traffic, rickshaws and motorcycles whizzing by often six inches away, on my left were the temporary tables filled with goods, and I was in a human tunnel, propelling forward from the sheer mass and density of people. I don’t know what it is about situations like this, but they have been some of my favorites on this trip. For a lot of people, foreigners especially, the idea of touching everyone around you in a crowd while walking down the street would probably feel overwhelming, but I felt incredibly calm, and so happy. I’ve been thinking a lot about these experiences and I think that perhaps I like them so much because I have to be there. I cannot be looking at my phone, even daydreaming feels too far off. I have to be there, in that crowd, feeling the people pushing me forward, seeing the colors of roadside goods, hearing the bikes passing me, and I am a part of it. These experiences make me feel like I am a part of something bigger than myself and like I am actually alive. I find myself now craving this sense of presence.

It’s interesting to reflect on the expectations I came into this experience (and the expectations others provided me) compared to the feelings and experiences I have actually had. With the crowds, for example, so many people told me I would feel overwhelmed. A lot of people said things to me about the number and density of people that implied some kind of wildness or out of controllness to life here. With closer look and I think maybe participating a little more in day to day life, it feels to me like there is in fact a rhythm and harmony to this chaos we assume at first look. There are indeed very chaotic things, things that do not make sense or seem efficient, but I have found a surprising number of things that do make a lot of sense to me. Driving hasn’t felt strange to me in a very long time. It makes sense that with so many cars we are going to pass as many people and swerve around cows as quickly as possible so that we can get ahead. It makes sense that if I am standing a foot behind someone in line, another person will step in front of me and claim that empty space. There are absolutely logics and methods to the way day to day life unfolds. I am feeling very happy that I am starting to understand these things. (Makes me think of one of my very first posts about culture and cultural adjustment and aiming to understand world view, the deeper culture. “Culture is the acquired understanding and values through which we know how to behave and interpret human interactions.” I am becoming able to interpret more.)

I listened to an Oprah podcast with Deepak Chopra, a notable Indian thinker, that touched on some of these exact ideas–– We see and assume chaos, which from our western perspective we might see as a lack of development, but there is indeed a harmony to it all. The podcast connected back to the idea of karma as a fundamental facet of Indian society, which was also very interesting because I have learned a lot about how ideas of karma impact people’s ideas about disease and caste (justify them), but I never considered the idea of karma in terms of just how day to day, public sphere interactions proceed. Essentially they asserted that the idea of karma, whether or not people believe in it, is embedded enough in Indian culture that people live slightly fearlessly and in the moment. Karma literally means action, so you might as well run into traffic to get across the street and put out the energy that you’ll get across, because for karma to come you have to do. This is super simplified and honestly not really an accurate explanation, it’s hard to wrap your head around, but it was interesting to be here and listen to this podcast that puts another explanation to the experiences I have been having.

If you would like to check it out it’s called Creating Harmony on Oprah’s Super Soul Podcasts. https://player.fm/series/series-2372201/deepak-chopra-creating-harmony Just a warning, Oprah is a very aggressive interviewer. I wouldn’t say it’s the best podcast I have ever listened to, but it was interesting.

So I’ve been thinking about life here and how I understand it from my little worldview. I feel like I am starting to understand more and become a little more connected to some cultural norms. I’ve been reflecting on the expectations I came here with, and I definitely, though I didn’t want to admit it to anyone, had this idea that my life would be changed and I would have all these personal breakthroughs in how I know myself. This secret desire feels a bit ridiculous now because I don’t feel different. Can you consciously tell when you feel different? How will I feel when I go home?

There are a few goals I had for myself coming here in terms of personal breakthroughs that I am proud of my progress towards. Part of the reason I wanted to study abroad was to become more comfortable being alone. I am one to surround myself with friends, family, and it’s great! I absolutely love and feel deeply fulfilled by time spent with people I feel comfortable with, but when I got to college I began to feel myself becoming a bit too dependent on the presence of other people. FOMO is real, and I was starting to become alarmed at the extent to which I was feeling it. Shipping myself alone to a different country seemed like a possible solution to this discomfort with myself, and yes, I would say I have gotten a lot better with it. I tried especially hard not to reach out too much to people at home to cope with the initial homesickness, shock, you name it I was feeling. I started taking walks, during some of which I would talk out loud to myself to have a conversation and work through whatever I was feeling. I journaled at ridiculously high rates for a while, which really helped me connect with my feelings and sort through them, but then even that felt a bit too dependent, and eventually I found myself able to spend time with myself as a form of soothing. Normally I would look to the people around me to express my feelings, then when I didn’t have them accessible I started using my journal, and now I am able to sit and think a little more. A big aspect of my FOMO I think actually comes from a fear of being alone with myself. Right?! Like how much time do you actually spend not interacting with another person but yourself. It is scary! I am not sure why, perhaps just more insecurity, or maybe out of ease? It’s so much easier to use and to need external sources to provide comfort, to feel loved and taken care of, so I tried to start doing that more for myself. I don’t think there was any particular action I took that helped me work towards this goal, but I think that being here and being relatively alone helped do it for itself. I think that what I have come to understand in feeling this shift is that I have to be comfortable being in discomfort. Instead of finding a distraction such as a person to listen to my woes or hold me, I had to sit with my discomfort, acknowledge it, and somehow find a way to be comfortable in it. This felt really brave and really new to me, and it felt uncomfortable! Vulnerable! But those feelings always ended up passing, so I think it was a good exercise. I am hoping to carry this forward with me.

I’ve been reading this book called “The Places That Scare You” by Pema Chodron, an American Tibetan Monk (?), that is allllllllll about the practice I just described. So in Buddhism there are three main principles of human existence: impermanence, egolessness, and suffering/dissatisfaction. Impermanence and dissatisfaction easily make sense: life is hard, nothing is permanent, and this sucks! Everything is constantly changing, right? Trees are growing, air is moving, the cells in your body are doing things, the thoughts you think are never exactly the same, you are never exactly the same. BUT, we resist! We do not like change! I absolutely am horrible with change! So what if I begin to consider that everything is in constant process? I am always in transition? If I know this, that even in the moments I feel most still and stable, I am changing and the world around me is changing, then perhaps the bigger feelings of transition I feel will be less scary. My uneasiness of not knowing what’s going on can be met with the acknowledgement of the constant waves of transition that are moving in me. I am learning each day, I am getting a wrinkle line on my forehead, I am becoming more comfortable being alone with myself. I have to open myself up to notice these small changes because even if they are small, they carry feeling! I must acknowledge the little feelings of joy, love, but also the rawness of pain, embarrassment, loneliness, gratitude. And when I acknowledge the feelings, I can see how they come and go. I can see that they are not permanent. I can see how I change. Flexibility and openness comes from getting to know our fears well, such as those of change, and ultimately bring us strength and peace.

So maybe feeling all these feelings I am having alone, the little changes, letting the emotions I feel exist and acknowledging how they feel, is a part of the grand fantasy of change I envisioned for myself. The more I tune in to the subtle shifts within me the more I feel a tenderness towards myself that I did not expect. To feel this tenderness is scary, I feel open, but I feel awake. I especially enjoy walking in highly congested areas.

[blogdangerousobjectcollecto-blog]

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Okay so on Monday, I was parked on one side of the street and because of street cleaning I uturned across the street into two other cars that were parked and some lady backed up trying to park in thee space that i was in. she did not look back i guess. It's clearly her fault but the thing is that that car does not have insurance. My other 3 cars are insured just that one is not because my brother gave it to me to sell. I am wondering what is going to happen because she reported to insurance. Wiill i get in trouble? ( I'm under 18) Do i get money from her insurance company? Will I have to pay for her damages even though it was 100% her fault? and what do i do now? Her insurance agent called me but i called back and cannot get a hold of her. Thanks for the help""

Individual Dental Insurance for NJ?

I've been staring at dental insurance plans all day and finally it makes no sense anymore. I've enrolled in a discount plan but my dentist says I should get insurance for the procedures I'll be needing. I've only found one plan that seems to cover my area. Cost is not that big of an issue as more WHERE TO FIND IT. My job doesn't offer it. I'm an unmarried adult and I just need to purchase insurance (pref PPO) that will be effective as soon as possible.

What should i do about car insurance?

Basically in 2009 i got caught speeding without insurance. Biggest Mistake of my life. Lost my licence and had to start from provisional again. Now i have passed my test and it is a few years on i dont know what to do about getting insurance. I refuse to drive without it now. The thing i need to know is do i tell my insurance company about the claims that were less than 5 years ago or don't i? the reason is because my licence was taken away without a ban put back to provisional and now re-started fresh so do i still have to put them or not? Also if i do what would happen if i don't? Just out of curiosity as it would be a lot cheaper but if i have to i will obviously. Thanks

What is the lowest car insurance for a Kia?

I need insurance for just 1 vehicle a 2002 Kia Rio valued at $2500 How can i get an insurance policy that would pay for repairs and the other persons medical bills for under $300 a year Is there any plan that offers car insurance at this rate or less

What is the most affordable health insurance in NYC?

My friend doesn't have health insurance and is planning on putting his new baby (born around Oct.) on his policy with him. He's Latin American and has his permanent residence card, but is not yet a citizen. Anyone know of any affordable plans for him to look into in the Manhattan area?""

Why is the insurance on my 1982-83 2.5L landie cheeper than my 0.9L corsa W reg?

i just dont see how the insurance on any landie could be cheaper than a corsa, especially as it is my first year driving, does anyone know why this could be?????""

What kind of fine do you get for driving without car insurance in California?

My older brother recently bought a brand new car, and just two days ago the insurance he purchased from the dealership's insurance company expired. He has liability insurance underneath a separate insurance company, but that has not expired. We were stopped for something minor the other day, and the police officer noticed my brother's insurance was expired. What kind of fine will he face?""

Car insurance question?

I just got a 94 Buick Park avenue a few weeks ago. I'm 17 and getting my license (hopefully) on the 25th of this month. I have a question about the insurance. Our company is Amica. I've gotten a quote recently from my dad talking to them. He told me today that after two cars are insured the third one is automatically listing me as the primary driver. I'd like to be able to be the 'secondary driver' to save money...anyone know if this is possible with this company?

Who is the best auto insurance agency?

Currently have USAA, but it seems that they just charge for the general population rather than going into more personal charges. Since they are not locally based in NV, they charge for all the other boneheads out here rather than my own driving record.""

Do you pay taxes on a Life Insurance payout?

my father died and my mother will be seeing her tax person. Will she be paying taxes on the money she collected from my dads life insurance?

16 Year Old Auto Insurance on Own Car?

hey, i am currently 16 and have had my license for about 5 months now, i am considering buying my own car, can anyone tell me an estimate of how much my insurance would be? i would be buying an older model car (1997-2002), i completed a young drivers course. Thanks""

Which car insurance should i go with?

i've been with mercury insurance for many years now. but since i've never had to file a claim, i don't know how good they are. i got two lower quotes from esurance and response insurance. i don't know if i should switch. any experience feedback with your car insurance companies would be great.""

Can I buy salvage cars from insurance auctions and then resell them as-is using a seller permit in California?

I want to know if is legal to use my sellers permit to buy totaled cars or salvaged cars at auction to the resell them (as is) in ebay. would i need a dealer license if I selling more than 5 a year?

On average what is my auto insurance going to cost if I go with geico or progressive in los angeles?

I need to know seriously

Will my insurance be notified for a texting ticket?

I have been driving for 3 years, and got my first citation yesterday for textng and driving. It's only $70, so I'll pay it off myself & not tell my parents (I'm 19, they pay for my car insurance since I'm in college and can't make enough money to pay for it myself). The officer said that the ticket will not give me any points or make my insurance rate go up. I was wondering if my insurance (Progressive) will be notified at all & the information be visible to my parents. This is in Maryland by the way. PS. I know texting & driving is dumb... I try not to do it, but since I'm fairly good at it, I have done it a lot. But after yesterday, I'm done.""

How much workers compensation insurance costs in california?

workers compensation insurance cost

Insurance for first car?

Im thinking about buying a 00-04 S2000 or and 99-04 Mustang GT. I live in georgia..17 almost 18 with a flawless driving record. My parents and i use geico insurance. I am a car enthusiast and i love performance.

How much will my motorcycle insurance be??

I'm 19 years old in Arkansas. I'm planning to buy a 2008 Kawasaki Ninja 250R soon. I'm currently under my parents coverage policy with Shelter Insurance. I have good driving records so far...and I just want basic coverage. Oh, and Im also planning to make payments on the bike, so does that mean I have to get full coverage? Any help would be greatly appreciated!""

Got an insurance check for hail damage on my car do i have to repair my car?

I have had the check for the insurance company sitting for two months due to the fact I havent had the money to pay the deductible. Well I am 35 weeks pregnant and this week my phone, water, car insurance, will all be shut off or canceled this week and my car payment was due three weeks ago. So This is my last and final option but my car is not paid of I still owe on it and the check is for 2,000 due to hail damage and it is made out to me and the bank so it says pay to the order of (name) AND (bank) only! Can I put the check into my bank account wait for it to clear and then pay my bills? I know this sounds very wrong but sometimes you have to do what you can with you've got.""

""If you are a 22 year old male, please reply telling me how much your full coverage car insurance is. Details!?""

If you are a 22 year old male, please reply telling me how much your full coverage car insurance is. Details!?""

get car insurance quotes online ireland

get car insurance quotes online ireland

Cheapest car insurance companies for boston area?

i am looking for a cheap insurance company my husband is buying a plymoth grand voyager tomorrow, a family pleasure driving only vehicle. what comapnies in the boston,cambridge chelsea, area is the best and cheapest?""

Why did the health insurance for my employees just go up 32% for next year?

Thanks Obama, Pelosi and Reid! The AFFORDABLE Health Care Act. BS""

How much would the insurance on my car be?

I'm 18. I just got my car. and I just got my license. and I have a 2001 Hyndai. I live if Fort Myers FL... How much would it be on my own? and How much could it be under my brother in laws name that has had his license for 5 years?

Car insurance coverage?

Will the insurance of a driver pay off for a non family member's vehicle that was totaled if he has total coverage for his vehicles? The vehicle that was crashes has a lien against it & only has liability insurance. However, the driver that wrecked has total coverage for both of his vehicles. He has USAA insurance which looks like good insurance? There is GAP insurance on the wrecked vehicle. My question, how do I get the ball rolling on this? I live in Oklahoma, the truck is sitting at a savage yard in Killeen, TX , the primary driver (a soldier) is in a military camp in Virginia, the soldier that wrecked the vehicle is living in Killeen, TX. I signed for the loan, my name is on the title. I haven't ever driven this vehicle. The salvage yard said they sent registered letters to the Oklahoma motor vehicle department. This sounds like it could take months and months to settle. Meanwhile, I need the primary driver to continue make the payments. They are not agreeing on who shuld""

Would financing your first car make your insurance go up?

would financing your first car make your insurance go up? As in, a payment plan for a used car.""

Had a accident no insurance Also no my car?

Ok well as my question states. I was in a car accident and i have no way to pay for insurance. the other driver is fine we are just waiting for the report. The police did not ask me anything about my insurance. The other part of this is that this car s my ex car he was letting me use. So im wondering is he going to get in to trouble and what am i looking at? Hopefully someone expirenced can help thanks.

What's more expensive in America? Healthcare or Health Insurance?

I keep hearing Americans spend more on health care than other industrialized countries. and I also hear they spend more on health insurance. So my question is: On average, do we spend more on Healthcare or Health Insurance than other countries? Or de we spend more on both?""

""For a 17 year old, How much about is car insurance (relatively) and which places are cheaper?

We were thinking State Farm or Country

How many people lack health insurance?

If you lack health insurance, why? If you cannot afford it, what could people around you do to help you out?""

Which car would have a higher insurance - Audi or Lexus?

I have a reckless driving back in August 2008 Speeding ticket - 50 on 35 May 2008 ever since then I have not been pulled over Thank you

Insurance Help for a Teen?

I'm about to get a used 2004 Lexus Sc430 hardtop convertible. It's a V8 with 288 horsepower. My friend has a 400 Horsepower Trans Am but he put his name under his dad's truck as the primary driver so they wouldn't get killed with insurance rates. If I put my name under my dad's tahoe as the primary driver and under the lexus just listed under the car as not the primary driver. Can I get in trouble for this?

What is the average rate of car insurance for 16 year old driver?

I am going to be 16 and i am just wondering how much will the insurance charge is i get added on right when i get my license?

Car Insurance for a 17 year old ? Rough price needed.?

Hi, My son is 17 in a couple of months, need a rough guess on how much insurance will be on a low groupage car (peugeot 106 1.0 etc). He'll be provisional but will have his mother on the insurance also. We're in Teesside so not out in the sticks but not a city postcode. Any rough ideas will be great. Thanks.""

Auto insurance?

which auto insurance should i get for my 2005 chrysler sebring? i have farmers but its so freaking expensive! i pay 200 dollras every month and i know theres people who pay less i wanna know which insurance would be cheaper? but i want full coverage and everything.

What would be considered as a franchise of Allstate ? ?

Would it be the actual insurance agent ?

First speeding ticket how much will my insurance increase and for how long?

I recieved my first moving violation (speeding ticket) and would like to know the cost/percentage/etc of a potential increase (if any) to my insurance. I am reluctant to call my State Farm agent for fear that they'll pull the record now and re-do my rates instead of towards the end of 6 months when I am up for renewal. Any takers?

Who is the insurance/workers compensation carrier for Petco?

For a research project I'm doing on the pet industry, I need the name of the carrier who provides insurance and worker's compensation for Petco, PetSmart and the like.""

Companies that provide cheap car insurance for a 17 year old male?

I have recently passed my driving test and whenever I get a quote from a car insurance company it it always over 3000. I have tried putting myself under my mother's name as an additional driver but I still get the same outcome. I know people who are the same age with same car and have been able to get their insurance for a little over 1000. Are there any companies that will help me to get a lower quote (don't suggest compare websites because they are more expensive). Any help would be appreciated. Thanks

""I accidently backed into a car, but the owner doesnt want me to turn it in to my insurance?""

She doesnt have car insurance and is scared she'll get into trouble. Its at least 500 worth of damage. Do i have to pay her out of pocket? I pay insurance for a reason!!! My deductible is only 100, and i dont feel i should pay anymore than that.""

Do I need full insurance coverage to finance a USED car?

I am planning on buying a car after putting like 4000$ down, I want to finance for like 2-3 years BUT I heard I had to buy full coverage which is like 300-400$ for me..(currently I pay 150$ one way) This will be a huge problem. I went to some dealer and a guy working there said it's upto me if it's a USED car, and you only have to buy full coverage for brand new cars. Is this true? I am from Edmonton Alberta, Canada.""

What if insurance wants to change my sons counselor?

He has been seen by an out of network provider for over 6 years and approved...now at the age of 13 they want to force me to get a in network provider. My son has flourished with this counselor and trusts him...why should he have to change? Haven't the insurance company set a presidence? Any good web sights I can look this up on? Any help would be appreciated...I plan on fighting this.

How much will my car insurance cost monthly?

I'm 20 years old, female, college student, never been in an accident, 0 tickets, i've had my license since i was 18, my occupation: customer service. i'm self supporting, my insurance will not be under parents. it will be under my name. i'm looking to just get basic liability coverage. the car i'm considering to get is a white 2003 toyota celica gt coupe. with about 95kmiles. what insurance do you recommend and how much do you think it will cost for me monthly?""

Services offered by insurance companies?

general services offed by insurance companies

""What is... THE, CHEAPEST, CAR INSURANCE... IN... THE... UK?""

i mean what is legaly the cheapest you can possably pay... im looking for real cheap scraping by scum insurers that wont cover F all... the cheapest... THE... CHEAPEST... i dont wanna hear you mention popular names!!... i wanna hear hidden hated piece of S**t insurers... understand... REALLY cheap... none of this.... 4000 stuff... robbin sc*m... im looking for, eh-hem... CHEAP...""

Car insurance on a pergeout 307 new driver? UK ONLY.?

i turned 17 in march.i have yet to pass my test but wish to look at quotes for insurance. its a 5 door 1.6 and 5 doors. who knows a cheap car insurance site for me and with prefernce to someone you know having it from there? before you say i have tried comparison sites and they are no use.

get car insurance quotes online ireland

get car insurance quotes online ireland

Do you need insurance to drive?

Is it a legal obligation to have car insurance?

Where can a Construction company get a cheap insurance and bond?

Hello, I just started a small family construction company ( tile ) and would like to know where you can get a cheap bond from. Our company is in Seattle Washington. Can someone please help me with this. It would be great if it can be as cheap as it gets. we are on a budget. Thanks in advance""

Do insurance companies had out new phones?

This is the deal. I bought a new phone. HTC Desire S. I then accidentally dropped down the toilet. This caused it to get water damaged which equals broken phone. It's with the insurance company, and I know my claim has been accepted and now they are deciding whether they can repair the phone or send me a replacement. Now.. What does a replacement mean: Does that mean a new phone (fresh out of box) Does that mean a refurbished phone (second hand) Does that mean a different model phone (not a HTC Desire S) I've never used a insurance company before for this kind of thing because I'm always very careful when it comes to my technology and gadgets, so I don't know. I'm hoping I'll at least get the same model phone I had. I only had this phone for 2 weeks (Upgraded from Vodafone)""

What is the best supplemental medical insurance for veterans?

My husband will turn 65 on March the 18th and is scrambling to find a supplemental medical insurance because of the many veterans administration cutbacks on care. He suffers from diabetes type and hepatitis-c. He isn't service connected and needs an extra medical insurance to cover what the veterans administration doesn't cover. We need an affordable insurance that wont turn him down because of his medical condition.

Renters insurance?????

My landlord is asking me to get insurance for my dog but its not for like health and stuff its for something else. She told me about renters insurance. And i don't know what to do. Plz help

""If you work for an insurance company, would you get discounted car insurance?""

I have a 2nd interview for some insurance companies, one is at progressive and the other is at all-state. My car insurance is expensive because I'm in my early twenties even though my record is spotless. It occurred to me today that if I work at an insurance company I might get discounts. Does anyone have an idea of how much of a discount these companies offer on insurance for their employees? That is, if they even offer discounts at all. I know you obviously can't give me an exact number, I'm just interested in the benefits I could potentially have as an employee.""

Are there any affordable insurance companies that cover preexisting conditions?

Is regular insurance better than repricing when you ned to have surgery and the condition is considered preexisting?

Car insurance question?

My daughter has just passed her driving test here in the UK and her insurance costs have gone through the roof on the smallest car around. Is it possible (and legal) to insure her in Europe somewhere for her to drive in the uk for less money? Thanks

How much is car insurance and medical insurance monthly?

im doing a project for my math class and i dont know what either of these would cost!

How much would insurance be?

In the next couple months I'll be in the market for a 2006-2008 7series BMW. I'm 17 and this would be my second car. Approximately how much would I be paying a month for the insurance? Thanks in advance.

I need cheap auto insurance below $150?

I'm 18 just got my drivers license got a honda civic lx 2010 and i need auto insurance i have a suckish job and i'm currently not in college but i will be attending after this next semester. i'm just looking for auto insurance, why is it so complicated?""

Is the American health insurance is like Car insurance?

Life insurance and all the other insurances? And you pay it every month and how much? Or what it's like?

Roughly how much will my car insurance be?

I'm a female and 18 in July, my parents have bought me a 2010 Toyota Yaris for my birthday.. But I have to pay for the insurance (fair enough deal!) Roughly how much would it cost? Would it be much cheaper if I went under my parents insurance?""

Whats a cheap insurance?

I'm 18 and live near garland just liability

What is the best dental insurance company to get for a low income individual?

I'm getting by on a min wage, part time job....However, we really need dental care. Does anybody know of a good company to look into?""

Which insurance company is the cheapest for a new UK rider?

Which insurance company is the cheapest for a new UK rider?

Can I insure my car in California if it is registered in Oklahoma?

I currently have insurance in Oklahoma. My permanent address is in Oklahoma but I am stationed in California and California doesn't require military personnel to register their vehicles there.

Expat insurance - what kind of insurance is appropriate?

I traveled abroad for a year and got worldwide travel insurance. Then I decided to make the move permanent. I am living outside the EU and I'm wondering, surely travel insurance is inappropriate for a permanent move - what to other expats get to make sure they are covered against issues abroad? Thanks

Do you think its good to have insurance?

Car insurance cell phone insurance life insurance health insurance renters insurance homeowners insurance School supply insurance Title insurance Troll insurance No matter what the product its good to have insurance AM I RIGHT?

How to get car insurance for less than 1000 for a 17 year old male?

Living in England, the most expensive country in the world, and being the most expensive group of driver to insure, yet earning only 50 a week is too hard! I can get no help from family or anything I have to pay for it all myself. Realistically I need to find insurance for under a grand in order to be driving in less than a year's time. I would really appreciate any ways anybody knows of getting the cost this low. I have heard classic car insurance is a good way, but you have to be lucky to find a classic car which is cheap enough itself to make it worthwhile. Also pass plus seems ok but it seems not all insurance companies care about if you've done it - I mean if its only the more expensive ones that end up giving discounts anyway then its not worth it.. Thanks""

Can i get a no insurance ticket if the car was insured but my name isn't under the insurance?

i got pulled over and i was driving my brothers car so the cop gave me a ticket for no insurance cause he said that my name wasnt under the insurance. If i go to court and show the insurance that i had in the car will they still fine me?

Which will cost more to insure? 00-04 mustang base or 00-04 mustang gt?

I'm 17 and live in New York. Been driving with a clean record for one year and I currently pay $100/month on my mom's '10 camry. I want to get my own car and I have narrowed everything down to a mustang, but I can't decide between a base model or a gt. I have discounts on my current policy such as good student and drivers ed. I will also take a defensive driving course for an added discount and the new car will also bring about a multi-car policy discount which will be helpful. My mom will be contributing the same $100 towards the car as she is now and the rest I have to pay for by myself. I have heard that the base and gt will cost about the same to insure, but that doesn't seem right considering that the gt has 100+hp more than the base, but people have supported that by saying the base models are involved in more crashes among young drivers. So can anybody set the record straight for me? Please don't give me responses saying that only my insurance agent can tell me that or too high for you to afford. Also would it be a wise decision to drop collision coverage for a huge insurance discount? I don't plan on racing this car.""

So how long and how much will this type of insurance cost ?

So how long and how much will this type of insurance cost ?

Need insurance quote for 73 Mustang Mach 1?

I would just like to get an idea from a person who knows a lot about insurance at what I would be looking to pay. It's the long weekend here in Canada and no insurance companies are open, and I cannot get a quote online because of the year of the vehicle. What I am looking to buy is a 73 Mustang Mach 1. I am 21 years old. The car value is 15,000 It will be driven less then 1000KM a year No substantial modifications. I haven't had any speeding (or otherwise) tickets I will be the primary driver. Vehicle is in good shape Um any other details I am missing? let me know.""

""Which is better having, single-payer or mandate health insurance & why?""

Which is better having, single-payer or mandate health insurance & why?""

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get car insurance quotes online ireland

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/admiral-car-insurance-quote-lawrence-arnold/"

[0xslash-blog]

The Elephant in the Brain (review)

The book was a very interesting read.

The art scene, for example, isn’t just about “appreciating beauty”; it also functions as an excuse to affiliate with impressive people and as a sexual display (a way to hobnob and get laid). Education isn’t just about learning; it’s largely about getting graded, ranked, and credentialed, stamped for the approval of employers. Religion isn’t just about private belief in God or the afterlife, but about conspicuous public professions of belief that help bind groups together. In each of these areas, our hidden agendas explain a surprising amount of our behavior—often a majority. When push comes to shove, we often make choices that prioritize our hidden agendas over the official ones. 

The thesis of the book is the underlying motives behind everything a person does is to increase prestige and social status ― and our conscious brains invent false pro-social explanations that we tell others. More strongly, we consciously believe these false explanations and don't understand the motives behind our actions as well as we think. The hidden motives trying to maximize prestige in our respective social circles is "the elephant in the brain".

Here are some intriguing extracts with some commentary:

On why self-deception is sane from a game theory standpoint: 

Civilization is a Mixed-Motive Game

A classic example is the game of chicken, typically played by two teenagers in their cars. The players race toward each other on a collision course, and the player who swerves first loses the game.18 Traditionally it’s a game of bravado. But if you really want to win, here’s what Schelling advises. When you’re lined up facing your opponent, revving your engine, remove the steering wheel from your car and wave it at your opponent. This way, he’ll know that you’re locked in, dead set, hell-bent—irrevocably committed to driving straight through, no matter what. And at this point, unless he wants to die, your opponent will have to swerve first, and you’ll be the winner.

The reason this is counterintuitive is because it’s not typically a good idea to limit our own options. But Schelling documented how the perverse incentives of mixed-motive games lead to option-limiting and other actions that seem irrational, but are actually strategic. 

Your Conscious Brain is a Press Secretary that explains the actions of the President, i.e., the hidden motives:

When we capitalize “Press Secretary,” we’re referring to the brain module responsible for explaining our actions, typically to third parties.

In one classic study, researchers sent subjects home with boxes of three “different” laundry detergents, and asked them to evaluate which worked best on delicate clothes.16 All three detergents were identical, though the subjects had no idea. Crucially, however, the three boxes were different. One was a plain yellow, another blue, and the third was blue with “splashes of yellow.”

In their evaluations, subjects expressed concerns about the first two detergents and showed a distinct preference for the third. They said that the detergent in the yellow box was “too strong” and that it ruined their clothes. The detergent in the blue box, meanwhile, left their clothes looking dirty. The detergent in the third box (blue with yellow splashes), however, had a “fine” and “wonderful” effect on their delicate clothes.Here again, as in the split-brain experiments, we (third parties with privileged information) know what’s really going on. The subjects simply preferred the blue-and-yellow box.

But because they were asked to evaluate the detergents, and because they thought the detergents were actually different, their Press Secretaries were tricked into making up counterfeit explanations. 

And a whole series of examples in Part II of hidden reasons for everyday behavior.

Laughter is a Play Signal: 

Gregory Bateson, a British anthropologist, figured it out during a trip to the zoo. He saw two monkeys engaged with each other in what looked like combat, but clearly wasn’t real. They were, in other words, merely play fighting. And what Bateson realized was that, in order to play fight, the monkeys needed some way to communicate their playful intentions—some way to convey the message, “We’re just playing.” Without one or more of these “play signals,” one monkey might misconstrue the other’s intentions, and their playful sparring could easily escalate into a real fight.

Here, for example, is a joke that flirts with, but doesn’t actually consummate, a norm violation:

MARY: What do you call a black man flying a plane? JOHN: Uh … I don’t know… . MARY: A pilot. What did you think, you racist?!

The humor here plays off the norm against racism. After Mary’s setup, John starts to squirm uncomfortably, afraid his friend is about to tell an offensive joke. But when Mary delivers the punchline, it’s sweet, safe relief. She wasn’t telling a racist joke after all. She was just playing! And a hearty chuckle ensues.

This joke uses the norm against racism only to provide the sense of danger, and achieves safety (and laughter) by not violating it. In this way, the joke ultimately reinforces the norm. But other jokes don’t pull back from the norm violation, and must achieve safety by other means, which often subverts the norms that they’re playing with. 

We speak to gain prestige: 

In case it’s not clear by now, this chapter helps explain Kevin and Robin’s “hidden” motives for writing and publishing this book. To put it baldly, we want to impress you; we’re seeking prestige. We hope the many things we’ve said so far testify to the size and quality of our “backpacks.” 

We consume to signal social status: 

When you think about people two or three rungs above you on the social ladder, especially the nouveau riche, it’s easy to question the utility of their ostentatious purchases. Does anyone really need a 10,000-square-foot house, a $30,000 Patek Philippe watch, or a $500,000 Porsche Carrera GT? Of course not, but the same logic applies to much of your own “luxurious” lifestyle—it’s just harder for you to see.

Consider taking the perspective of a mother of six from the slums of Kolkata. To her, your spending habits are just as flashy and grotesque as those of a Saudi prince are to you. Do you really need to spend $20(!!) at Olive Garden to have a team of chefs, servers, bussers, and dishwashers cater to your every whim? Twenty dollars may be more than the family in Kolkata spends on food in an entire week. Of course, it doesn’t feel, to you, like conspicuous consumption. But when a friend invites you out to dinner, it’s nice being able to say yes. (If you had to decline because you couldn’t afford to eat out, you might feel a twinge of shame.) And at the end of the meal, when you leave two uneaten breadsticks on the table, it doesn’t feel at all like conspicuous waste. You’re just thinking, “Why bother?” In fact, you might feel silly asking the waiter to pack them up for you, those two measly pieces of bread. 

Advertising to Non-Buyers to create Common Knowledge:

One reason to target non-buyers is to create envy. As Miller argues, this is the case for many luxury products. “Most BMW ads,” he says, “are not really aimed so much at potential BMW buyers as they are at potential BMW coveters.”33 When BMW advertises during popular TV shows or in mass-circulation magazines, only a small fraction of the audience can actually afford a BMW. But the goal is to reinforce for non-buyers the idea that BMW is a luxury brand. To accomplish all this, BMW needs to advertise in media whose audience includes both rich and poor alike, so that the rich can see that the poor are being trained to appreciate BMW as a status symbol.

Naturally this feels manipulative, and it is. But the same tactics can be used for more honorable purposes as well. The U.S. Marine Corps, for example, advertises itself as a place to build strength and character. In doing so, it’s not advertising only to potential recruits; it’s also reminding civilians that the people who serve in the Marines have strength and character. This helps to ensure that when soldiers come home, they’ll be respected by their communities, offered jobs by employers, and so forth. 

Art as a display of Fitness: 

The argument we’re making in this chapter is simply that “showing off” is one of the important motives we have for making art, and that many details of our artistic instincts have been shaped substantially by this motive. Not only do artists want to show off, but consumers simultaneously use art as a means to judge the artist. That’s one of the big reasons people appreciate art, and we can’t understand the full range of phenomena unless we’re willing to look at art as a fitness display.

This way of approaching art—of looking beyond the object’s intrinsic properties in order to evaluate the effort and skill of the artist—is endemic to our experience of art. In everything that we treat as a work of “art,” we care about more than the perceptual experience it affords. In particular, we care about how it was constructed and what its construction says about the virtuosity of the artist. 

Education as Domestication: 

In light of this, consider how an industrial-era school system prepares us for the modern workplace. Children are expected to sit still for hours upon hours; to control their impulses; to focus on boring, repetitive tasks; to move from place to place when a bell rings; and even to ask permission before going to the bathroom (think about that for a second). Teachers systematically reward children for being docile and punish them for “acting out,” that is, for acting as their own masters. In fact, teachers reward discipline independent of its influence on learning, and in ways that tamp down on student creativity.29 Children are also trained to accept being measured, graded, and ranked, often in front of others. This enterprise, which typically lasts well over a decade, serves as a systematic exercise in human domestication. 

In this particular instance, I think modern educational institutions are a sub-optimal equilibrium the world has slipped into, rather than domestication. But the above gives reasons why employers prefer college graduates.

Medicine as Conspicuous Caring: 

We asked readers to consider the case of a toddler who stumbles and scrapes his knee, then runs over to his mother for a kiss. The kiss has no therapeutic value, and yet both parties appreciate the ritual. The toddler finds comfort in knowing his mom is there to help him, especially if something more serious were to happen, and the mother is happy to deepen her relationship with her son by showing that she’s worthy of his trust.

The thesis we will now explore in this chapter is that a similar ritual lurks within our modern medical behaviors, even if it’s obscured by all the genuine healing that takes place. In this ritual, the patient takes the role of the toddler, grateful for the demonstration of support. Meanwhile, the role of the mother is played not just by doctors, but everyone who helps along the way: the spouse or parent who drives the patient to the hospital, the friend who helps look after the kids, the coworkers who cover for the patient at work, and—crucially—the people and institutions who sponsor the patient’s health insurance in the first place. These sponsors include spouses, parents, employers, and national governments. Each party is hoping to earn a bit of loyalty from the patient in exchange for helping to provide care. In other words, medicine is, in part, an elaborate adult version of “kiss the boo-boo.”

Like the conspicuous behaviors we’ve seen in other chapters, we’re going to call this the conspicuous caring hypothesis. 

This chapter was especially hard to digest. While this explains the heroic end-of-life care that families subject their loved ones to, I felt the chapter overstates the conspicuous caring hypothesis.

Status Climbing Gone Astray (explaining celibacy vows): 

Individual brains are built to go “up” in pursuit of higher and higher social status (or any other measure of reward). So we scramble our way toward the top of whatever hill or mountain we happen to find in our local vicinity. Sometimes, we consider going down to find a better route up, or wandering randomly in hope of finding an even higher peak off in the distance. But mostly we just climb skyward as if on autopilot. And in most landscapes, these instincts serve us very well. But if we happen to find ourselves in a nonstandard landscape, one that our brains weren’t designed for, the same instincts can lead us to bad outcomes.

To continue the analogy, we might model the landscape of a religious community as a volcano—a cone-shaped mountain with a perilous crater at the top. Every day, as a worshipper, you seek to climb higher, which often (counterintuitively) requires you to make sacrifices. Each sacrifice earns you more trust and respect from your peers, taking you further up the slope. It may get steeper and the air more rarefied. With each step, you run the risk of slipping back down or getting clawed down by rivals. But you steel yourself to press onward. You make ever larger sacrifices, which continue to work out in your favor—until one day, without realizing it, you push yourself too far. Your brain, expecting a simple mountain, took a step that felt like “up.” But in reality, the mountain was a volcano, and your final step sent you tumbling over the edge and into the crater.

It’s important to note that these hill-climbing accidents aren’t at all unique to religious landscapes. In dietary landscapes, we seek tasty fats and sugars, which were almost always “up” (in health terms) for our ancestors—until one day we’re stricken with diabetes or a heart attack. In military landscapes, we learn to show bravery, earning ever more respect from our comrades—right up until we take a bullet. Drug addicts seek ever-more-pleasurable highs until they overdose. And in literal mountaineering, risk-taking explorers might search for higher and higher peaks to climb, each summit bringing more glory—until one day their reach exceeds their grasp and they plummet to an untimely death.

In all of these cases, instincts that are adaptive in one context can lead us fatefully astray in another. But we shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that the instincts are necessarily maladaptive, or that the people acting on them are hopelessly foolish or deluded. They’re just chasing their highs, same as the rest of us. 

This kind of explains why young males decide to pursue math PhDs despite the atrocious sex ratio. Ultimately all creative work is like a sexual display ― done to gain prestige and status among fellow humans. Hill climbing errors happen when they don't directly result in reproductive success.

Politics as a display of Loyalty:

At the conclusion of the conference, a tribute to Comrade Stalin was called for. Of course, everyone stood up, and the small hall echoed with stormy applause. For three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, the applause continued. It was becoming insufferably silly even to those who really adored Stalin. However, who would dare be the first to stop? So the applause went on—six, seven, eight minutes! They couldn’t stop now till they collapsed with heart attacks! Finally, after eleven minutes, the director of the paper factory assumed a businesslike expression and sat down in his seat. And, oh, a miracle took place! To a man, everyone else stopped dead and sat down. They had been saved!

That, however, was how the [secret police] discovered who the independent people were. And that was how they went about eliminating them. That same night the factory director was arrested. They easily pasted ten years [in a labor camp] on him. 

― The Gulag Archipelago

Nevertheless, our hypothesis is that the political behavior of ordinary, individual citizens is often better explained as an attempt to signal loyalty to “our side” (whatever side that happens to be in a particular situation), rather than as a good-faith attempt to improve outcomes. In addition to the Do-Right’s motives, then, we also harbor the motives of the apparatchik: wanting to appear loyal to the groups around us. This is the key to making sense of our political behavior. It’s not just an attempt to influence outcomes; it’s also, in many ways, a performance.

As long as we adopt the “right” beliefs—those of our main coalitions—we get full credit for loyalty. We don’t need to be well informed because the truth isn’t particularly relevant to our expressive agendas. The main actions we take based on our political beliefs are preaching and voting, neither of which has practical consequences for our lives (only social consequences). 

[xottzot]

2017-10(OCT)-02d-Monday--(early evening) the crap continues onto the night in the hellhole.

2017-10(OCT)-02d-Monday--(early evening) the crap continues onto the night in the hellhole.

ONCE AGAIN...two unlicensed offroad motorcycles came tearing out of the criminals pedestrian walkway at around 6:06pm...turned left and went down Kalara Way, across Clayton Street, and onto the Koongamia oval area.

On the back (no footpegs of course, just hanging on) were two shitheads (white?) without helmets whilst the two controlling riders wore helmets...NOT for safety, only to keep themselves disguised from being identified.

ALL THIS HAS HAPPENED COUNTLESS TIMES BEFORE FOR YEARS. - THE WEST AUSTRALIAN POLICE AND AUTHROITIES HAVE ABSOUTELY NO CONTROL UPON THEM WHATSOEVER. LAWLESSNESS IS THE NORM. THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR YEARS.

What will it take.....somebody to accidently run over one of the bastards, and then give other criminal shitheads a 'reason' to then go beserk and riot? (ala Kalgoorlie?) - And which then the Authorities and Police will mutter about not being able to know who is responsible...when they KNOW who is responsible.

This time it looks to be white shitheads. The ones who freely frequent with the aboriginal shitheads. They are all the same. CRIMINAL SHITHEADS. - This sort if stuff is 'minor' to the shit they do. All this is always discounted and explained away, and forcibly forgotten.

Never mind. -- There will no doubt occur an event that will pause them all in their tracks. And the idiot POLICE and authorities will then crack down on innocents who have been the victims for so very long. And everyone will be told to just SHUT UP about everything, absolutely EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING.

Do you know how MANY times all that has occured in the past? And how it was allowed to go on in the totally vain 'hopes' that it will 'contain' everything including the crime and criminals a this hellhole? AND IT NEVER DOES. THEY JUST GET WORSE.

THIS IS A HELLHOLE.

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Children were out on pushbikes further away today. You can tell who abides by the lwas, they are the ones who were wearing pushbike helmets (WHICH IS THE LAW) whilst the aboriginals were NOT. They are COMPLETELY FREE to NEVER obey any laws whatsoever (even in front of Police) , and allowed to laugh at anyone who does obey any laws. They eventually wear down and convince innocents to become criminals with them. All this happend with the occupants of the people who once rented Ms New Ages's place. They became actively associated with the criminal aboriginals, became criminals themselves, and their entire family was utterly ruined completely and utterly. - What has become of that family is unknown. They were evicted. - (some jailed?) - Perhaps the kids andor parents are in jail. - They were all forwarned of the criminal aboriginals and how the criminal aboriginals destroy peoples homes and lives and families whilst always coming away from it all totally without blame, suffering no consequences, and being rewarded for it all.

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NEWS VIDEO:-- Warning to parents after child almost hit by car

Note: VERY few details are given in the 'NEWS' report.

https://thewest.com.au/news/australia/warning-to-parents-after-child-almost-hit-by-car-bc-5595410361001

So what? - THIS EXACT shit has been happening in these streets for YEARS as I've been saying for so long. Of course you NEVER heard about the shit of this hellhole in any NEWS, therefore you will try to convince yourself it never ever happened...and how could it happen you wonder in your tiny minds?

IF I ever had any video footage of all the shit myself and others have witnessed, still NOBODY would believe it.

What about an criminal aboriginal toddler sitting in the middle of the road? (whilst a truck was bearing down upon it?)

What about an criminal aboriginal toddler waddling about in a diaper in the middle of the road as cars had to swerve around it? (CONTLESS TIME IN COUNTLESS INCIDENTS THAT'S OCCURRED)

What about criminal aboriginals carrying the criminal diaper toddler in one arm whilst on a pushbike and almost continually dropping it? (COUNTLESS SEPERATE INCIDENTS, one even happened a day or two ago)

Today, a this hellhole, a group of criminal aboriginals were on the roads and had two prams with them. A young woman was IN one pram being pushed by another aboriginal female youth and being wheeled about in it, whilst the toddler was in a pathetic plastic 'toy' push vehicle and being careened about recklessly with complete abandon on the roads by a male aboriginal who thougt it all was 'fun' making and teaching the criminal toddler in it to louldy scream out constantly.

Pity they weren't all in a car and doing the same, just before hitting a tree and killing them all. - But then the tree would get blamed. - Don't scoff, this has been tried on as an excuse before. Just before they switch to other comletely invented excuses, until they find one that 'sticks' and authorities jot down as what actually 'happened' and thus completely distorting reality YET AGAIN.

Such madness is now everyday.

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I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you. - Summer means absolute total crime here. Poor Sam and Max are constantly on-edge and suffering as am I. - YOU dear Fliss have absolutely no idea of anything at all and nor does anyone else and they try to fake their way to explaining everything but are still totally useless and in the dark. - I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you.