#my universe or whatever has like...a thing where the younger generations of ancients

[mewguca]

assorted doodles including oc stuff. hi

[ironunderstands]

Dr. Ratios predictions, theories and ideas I have for his lore BECAUSE SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED AND I AM INSANE ABOUT HIM AAAAAAA

‼️INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF LEAKS SO BE WARNED‼️

So, I’m sure if you like Dr. Ratio even a little bit or have kept up with what leakers are doing, you have heard of a little something.

That little something being our new planet in coming in 3.0 is Ancient Greece inspired 

Oh boy.

And oh it gets better, thanks Sparkle for playing genderbend Ratio during Cosmoddesy because 

Yup, this is his planet.

I’m well aware it will be like 7 months before we start getting proper leaks about this place, but for now, let’s do some speculation shall we, because if there’s anywhere we are gonna get his backstory/lore/a story centered around him, it will be here.

So let’s begin 

Whatever the hell I think is gonna happen during 3.0

A) He will serve as a guide for the Astral Express in navigating this planet 

I don’t think he will immediately go to them to help, or they will immediately seek out him, but rather coincidentally or through the connivence of circumstance he will end up helping lead us around, at least partially until we really get roped into a conflict.

Or, it’s the other way around, where we kinda are left to our own devices a bit and then something happens and either by his own decision or something that’s forced upon him, Dr. Ratio now has to supervise from now on.

Personally I find the second option way more interesting and I think it has way more potential for angst so I’m going with that one let Ratio be dragged around by a malicious entity or his own experiences I’m so here for it. 

B) Something happens.

Wow, descriptive. 

Ok, what I really mean is that something bad happens like a prophecy comes true or the express breaks something or a stellaron comes to eat people’s grandmas and Ratio is implicated in it. 

And this is where the fun begins, as the nature of what this something is can completely shift the story in very interesting ways.

Perhaps he was prophesied to doom Amphoreous’s civilization with his presence or something, and was abandoned by his parents on another planet?

Perhaps he has connections to the leaders there who desired for him to be their puppet/tool, so he left to find his own path and now they are trying to force him back.

Perhaps he failed at a test of theirs when he was younger, some universal trait on the planet that he couldn’t live up to and was exiled because of it. Now that he’s back, they blame whatever bad thing happens on Ratio. 

I actually really like these particular theories as Ratio has a lot of themes about creating your own destiny, so seeing him resist one forced upon him would be compelling. Moreover, I feel as though an arc demonstrating how exactly he wanted to become a Genius/where he got all his insecurities and motivations from is not only necessary for his character but would flesh out the way we see the path of Erudition in general, even if I already really like the way they have gone with it so far. 

C) Resolution/Self acceptance 

I doubt they will permanently kill him, it just doesn’t suit his character at all.

However, do I think is he gonna get messed up by whatever that “something” is? Yes. 

If the story centers on this remains to be seen, honestly, I doubt it will considering we have the entire cast of the planet and its own lore to meet and learn about, but I do think Ratio will be a major player and I hope how he feels gets some of the plot’s focus as we have quite literally only have 1 full scene of him where we see who he truly is, and it’s all the way back in 1.6 (Ratio-Screwllum conversation my Roman Empire). 

Like guys I needed this man bleeding out screaming dying crying throwing up clutching his wounds looking up at the screen like a kicked puppy losing all hope in himself and others YESTERDAY 

I NEED SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO HIM FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BECAUSE RATIO IS SO HIGH STRUNG THAT ANY AMOUNT OF PRESSURE WILL CAUSE HIM TO SNAP SO PLEASE HOYO LET HIM BREAK!!!

He needs another scene where he’s being sincere, he needs a scene where he’s being vulnerable, Ratio’s marble facade needs to crumble to reveal the man underneath and I need that man to pick himself back up again knowing he can allow himself to be human as well AAAAAAAAAA

His connections to Acheron 

If you have seen my other posts I have already talked about this at length, however the brainrot for this particular detail is all consuming so let me just demonstrate:

Dr. Ratio has the same philosophy as Acheron, an emanator of Nihility.

Look.

Essentially, they both believe that only in desperate situations will humans reach their full potential and begin to truly live for themselves. Moreover, they also both try and offer the tools to help people save themselves, Ratio with knowledge and Acheron with destroying the dreamscape, and that even if people can only become their true selves through struggle, it is the guidance and love of other people that will allow them to pick themselves up. 

Interestingly, pre-2.2 I also believed Ratio was walking the path of Nihility, due to how he engages with knowledge. That very viewpoint spawned from the 1.6 conversation I just showed you, as Ratio demonstrates to the audience that he does not care about knowledge in of itself, but rather the value it can bring to people.

Now, this sets him apart from the Genius Society members, who believe knowledge is inherently valuable and that it is what brings the universe meaning to them. Every person Nous has acknowledged has expressed this belief, which is why they were acknowledged and Ratio isn’t.

Before you say it, no, it’s not that he isn’t smart enough, quite the opposite actually.

Screwllum himself acknowledges his genius and time and time again are Ratios myriad of accomplishments brought up. In universe plenty of people believe he should have been instated into the society by now as well:

These are just the ones that implicate the society directly, as so many of Ratio’s character stories also mention just how accomplished he is.

Moreover, in 2.3 we are getting a new Sim Uni update made by Ratio himself, centered on humanity because of course it is, therefore he’s even smart enough to do the same things the GS members do, even collaborating with Screwllum to work on their favorite pet project.

So, what does this have to do with his lack of acknowledgment, and the path of Nihility?

I have established Ratio is smart enough and that he doesn’t view knowledge in the same way the other member’s do. Therefore, this difference in mindset is why Nous has never acknowledged him, because as much as Ratio thinks he is walking the path of Erudition, his personal philosophy and behaviors have never aligned with that, even if he thinks they do.

I mean, the man says it himself, even if he doesn’t realize the implications of it:

“The Path of Erudition has neither reason nor logic. While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary can’t even trace their footsteps.”

That is the path the Genius Society members walk, the path Ratio is criticizing in this sentence, the path he refuses to travel along himself, because what defines Ratio is that he will never leave the ordinary behind to stumble alone.

That is the path of Erudition.

And Veritas Ratio does not follow it. 

So what does he believe in?

Finding your own path. Forging your own future, in the face of a meaningless universe, that is the only thing we should do, the only thing we CAN do. 

“even a life marked by failure is a life worth living”

That’s what Ratio believes.

It doesn’t matter if the masses cannot escape their mediocrity, if they will never be geniuses, if their efforts will go unacknowledged, because the universe doesn’t care, therefore they shouldn’t either. There is no grand test, no final destination, no perfect goal people must attain.

Destiny is uncertain, and people’s fates are theirs to choose. 

Dr. Ratio believes people can still improve themselves, and that it doesn’t matter if people cannot reach the ceiling of knowledge, as they should still push themselves off the floor and stand up. 

He doesn’t think anything confines people from bettering themselves, and that it’s pointless to deliberate over whether one can achieve perfection or not, they should strive to improve themselves regardless and live their best lives because why not? Sure there’s nothing saying they can, but there’s also nothing saying they can’t, and in the face of a meaningless universe, devoid of purpose, one must create their own, and he dedicates his life to aiding others in realizing this.

Ironically, Ratio does not take his own advice. He can recognize the merits of the masses, but he cannot appreciate his own. Ratio is forever walking forward, but he cannot see the path ahead of him, or appreciate the lengths he has gone, the distance he has traveled, and the lives he has improved. 

Ratio spreads knowledge across the universe, believing that is what Nous desires, what the Erudition means, or rather should be, which is partly why he views himself as mundane, as a failure. 

Not just because he is as ordinary as any other person, but because Ratio thinks he hasn’t succeeded in his goal without Nous’s acknowledgement. I think he believes that he hasn’t done enough, that he isn’t smart enough, that he will never be good enough, therefore no matter what has happened, Ratio is doomed do be as mundane as everyone else, and his accomplishments will never be worth the gaze of the entity who inspired him to help others in the first place, as that’s what Ratio believes they would want.

However, helping others is not something Nous cares about, it’s something Dr. Ratio cares about. Even if he doesn’t understand or acknowledge it, Ratio’s accomplishments are meaningful, and he has walked his path further than most ever have. 

However, that path just isn’t the path of Erudition, it’s the path of Existence. 

Initially I believed it to be the Nihility, and in a way I’m not wrong, considering one must cross underneath the shadow of the Nihility to find the Existence, so in a way he is still approaching them.

However, as always, Acheron clarifies everything.

The Nihility envelops all, therefore it is meaningless. And before our final ending, our predetermined destiny (death), we have so many choices to make, therefore we should make them, as it makes both our life and death develop a completely different meaning.

As I have stated, this is what Ratio believes in, even if he attributes it to the Erudition, rather than the Nihility.

Ratio’s entire goal in life is to help others bring meaning to their lives and guide them in the right direction so they can begin to choose for themselves, using knowledge as his means to do so.

Which is exactly what Acheron does, “on the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls,” isn’t just a line she says because it sounds cool, rather, that is her goal as well. An emanator of Nihility, whose goal is to help others find their meaning in the universe. 

But Acheron doesn’t just want that. She is looking for the Existence, and to kill the Nihility (meaningless) forever.

Which is significant, because if Ratio believes the same exact thing she does, and is walking the same path as she is, then like Acheron, he is heading towards the Existence, not the Erudition.

And Nous will never acknowledge him, not because he isn’t smart enough, but because he never followed them to begin with.

In fact, we know what Ratio is, or rather, what he might end up becoming.

So far no Doctors of Chaos have succeeded in their goals, but perhaps Dr. Ratio, Dr VERITAS Ratio, will be the one to do so. After all, who else could it be but him?

How fitting that the man named after truth would be the one to find it.

That fuckass owl 

Glaux I want to throw you into a blender 

This is Professor Glaux, one of the figures from the Hanunue-Clockie Era of Penacony who did some things like bring the stellaron there, was a scholar of the Intellgenica Guild, became the first dreamweaver, inspired the paper birds, did some shit with the Nightingale Family and presumably died.

I know, horrible explanation, especially considering I haven’t even done the quest this guy is from, but hopefully that’s all the information you need for now so I can introduce you to this theory (which I did not create, sadly I don’t remember who did but it was someone on twitter somewhere so shoutout to them)

That being… Dr. Ratio is Glaux

I hate it I’m sorry. But I will attempt to explain where it’s coming from.

A) Glaux has very similar references to Ratio, aka they are both associated with Greek culture, wisdom and owls 

Glaux is the Greek word for owl and they are heavily associated with Athena, the god of wisdom.

Now Ratio has extremely obvious owl, Greek and wisdom association if you have looked at him for any longer than 2 seconds so I’m not gonna bother to demonstrate it, they have similar references, moving on.

B) The Intelligencia Guild + their titles 

They are from the same faction, and both are referred to as Professors (ratio gets called that more in the CN version I think), and at least Ratio dedicates his time to spreading knowledge, which I think is something Glaux shared.  

C) This occurrence in Gold and Gears

You know, the one where a student kills themself because Ratio thinks they are an idiot.

Well, it’s complicated because apparently the story told in Gold in Gears takes place a long time ago?? 

How long I don’t know as my brain melted in my skull when trying to piece it together, so please do correct me if I’m wrong, I’ll try to make sense of it later.

Moreover, this is also complicated by the fact that this particular occurrence was used by Herta to teach the trailblazer some mechanics of the sim uni, which makes me thing it’s not a part of the lore/timeline in it in general, and just something funny she added in anyways. Continually, there are also occurrences from characters like Argenti and of the Genius Society members themselves, so I don’t think every event is set in the distant past.

However, I think this idea comes from the other person in that occurrence, Dr. No5, but he also kills himself in it, and I can’t find anymore information on it, so I doubt it. (also apparently in the Chinese version the Ratio they refer to isn’t in the way they refer to Dr. Ratio/the one we know so idk)

Either way, what this means is that if this occurrence did take place a while ago, then Ratio must be super fucking old and he must have been part of the Intellegencia Guild during that time, like a certain owl aka Glaux, who was part of it.

D) Ratio’s weird origins

By weird origins I mean we know jack shit about his past (although we finally know the planet he’s from!) and for all we know the man could have spawned in one day, with some other theories even coming to that conclusion, like the infamous worm theory.

Essentially, if you put this all together, Ratio was once an owl-humanoid named Glaux who was from the Amphoreous, and then became part of the Intelligencia Guild a while back, which is when that occurrence happened. He then went to Penacony, did some stuff, faked his death and like came back as Dr. Ratio on that planet again, which is why we don’t know anything about his origins.

Can you tell why I hate this theory as a concept.

I find it to be dumb, nonsensical, a waste of potential and just straight up random as hell. However it is also objectively valid and could have happened within the plot of the game which is why I hate it so much because please hoyoverse do not go in this direction I will skin you.

However, I do not think Ratio has nothing to do with Glaux.

Rather,

A) The stuff Glaux did on Penacony is meant to parallel how Ratio acted there, as both served as a guiding figure for people on their respective timelines 

B) Ratio is the same species as Glaux/ they are from the same planet (Amphoreous).

Now this I fuck with heavily. Yes, Glaux is way more owl looking than Ratio is, however more human versions of his species could exist, and Ratio could just have the ability to like shift forms or something.

He also looks extremely similar to the owls on Ratios design, which I now deem it appropriate to show to you the metric fuck ton of owls in Ratios design.

(there’s a few more btw I just couldn’t fit them due to the image limit LMAOO)

Why do you have so many, and why is it the same fucking owl, same culture, same goddess referenced, same symbolism???? 

Like even if I hate the 1 : 1 Glaux-Ratio theory, they are clearly connected, and this is no accident on behalf of the developers. 

Therefore, I would keep an eye out for Glaux mentions in the future, especially on the planet coming in 3.0, as I 100% believe that they are from the same planet. There’s no way they can’t be connected in some manner, and if I am right about this I will be annoying about it for the rest of time. 

I can’t believe owl Ratio might actually be a reality. 

So uh, let’s put this all together.

We go to Ratio’s planet in 3.0, problems happen and we learn both his past and his connections to that owl species Glaux is from which likely causes even more problems. Bbg probably gets his ass handed to him in 3.0 and 3.1 and gets to make up for it in 3.2, ending the arc off more fulfilled as a person, and perhaps making some realizations about himself including that he isn’t actually following the path of Erudition. Then we skip all the way to endgame when the trailblazers are fighting Nanook and him and Acheron come in with the steel chair hopped up on Existence juice to give the trailblazer enough of a will to live as to not succumb to the Nihility because oh my god how can you defeat the embodiment of Destruction. We somehow win and Dr. Ratio gets married to Aventurine and they ride off into the sunset roll credits we all cheered. 

So, yeah.

If I’m even a little bit right about this I will be the most insufferable person on this planet. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this, and even if these theories don’t end up being true I do still think the speculation gives a lot of insight into his character.

[shrikeicee]

SMOKEY ! my boy smokey

so his setting needs some explanation also hes newer so his storys a lot more scattered and incomplete

his universe takes place in one of my favorite games called The Long Dark. its a freezing cold northern canadian island called Great Bear thats experienced a sort of geomagnetic storm thats cut the power everywhere and somehow stopped batteries from working either. in this game, auroras happen every so often during the night but theyre not normal, they fuck with electricity somehow and make it so that power and batteries work again, just for the duration of the aurora, tho

ive meshed together some already existing lore to form Darkwalker. shes an ancient earth spirit of some sort or whatever whose been awoken by the mining and deforestation of great bear and wants revenge on the mainlanders who come just to take.

every aurora, she possesses a vessel of her choosing to kill any mainlander she comes across. its not a random person each time tho, she picks one person and latches onto them and uses them until they die. she doesnt super care about people, she just wants the mainlanders gone.

so smokeys about the 6th or 7th vessel shes had in her couple hundred or so years of activity. once her previous vessel had died of sepsis or whatever, she picked a fresh new vessel, little 8 year old smokey. (she picks vessels younger cause theyre easier to manipulate into doing what she wants outside of auroras, so she can get more mainlanders killed)

darkwalker can do this fun and cool thing with her vessels where she can graft animal flesh to them with next to no consequence, no ones figured out how the hell this works. she uses this ability to quickly heal wounds (smokey gets shot in the leg? shove dear meat into it! he ends up perfectly fine some fucking how). she also uses this to graft animal parts to her vessels, hence why smokey has dear ears, wolf eyes, and dog teeth. shes still testing which build works best :)

she puts the animals bits on him both to improve him as a vessel and to isolate him from other people, which will keep him away from them and closer to her, as his only contact with anything remotely living

so i dont really have a Story yet, just some things that happen here and there

when smokeys 19, he meets earnest whittmore, a lonely fisherman out in bleak inlet (map in the real game). earnest shows this lonely kid a literal scrap of kindness and Oh No Sir Hes Never Leaving You Alone.

now fun fact, earnests wife was killed about 17 years ago by the last vessel of darkwalker. theyd move out to the edge if the island in hopes of evading, but a fishermans salary couldnt afford a house back on the mainland, so darkwalker eventually caught up with her. because of this, earnest tried his hardest not to get attached to smokey, but he was so young and hed just read about those feral kids in europe that morning, so he couldnt resist.

cue to hijinks of fishing dad and feral son thing. being around a normal person with normal people opinions about mainlanders makes smokey doubt that darkwalker is actually right. darkwalkers wants to kill earnest sosososo bad for this but she only has the power to possess smokey during auroras, and earnest HELLA careful with that, he keeps a ward sigil around his house the morning he thinks an aurora will start

enter: huron

hes a mainlander whose bushplane came down jn blackrock (map on the real game) and he got severe brain trauma!!!!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (im playin quick n loose with real human anatomy and i also dont give a shit so bare with me here) he got all fucked up good n proper so his color vision is suddenly shit, so is his general coordination, but he hasnt super noticed cause his memory is now shit ass dookie ! he doesnt really remember what colors look like or that people are usually able to stand without swaying. sounds fun ik.

so anyways, he loots the prison (theres an abandoned prison in the real game map), finds a flare gun and goes to TOWN on the timber wolves and also loose convicts who try to rob him. his sense of morality and self preservation r Gone if u couldnt tell.

so he makes his merry way down to bleak inlet, just kinda wondering around, and along they way he stumbles into smokey!! not during an aurora tho its like mid day. so they smokey throws the first knife and they fight nearly to the death :). smokey almost claws hurons eye out and huron shotguns smokey in the stomach so he has to leave :(.

huron just so happens to make it to bleak inlet and find earnest !! earnest sees this dude stumbling around, tripping over air, and COVERED in blood. he takes huron back to his home and patches him up, he gets to healing for a week before uh oh! smokeys back! earnest has to Plead with them not to kill eachother on his kitchen fucking tiles. he gives smokey soup before kicking him out so huron can heal fully. smokey experiences Jealousy. earnest by full accident ensnares another soul into his web of fatherhood.

eventually huron and smokey learn to chill the fucking fuck out around eachother and go from fighting to the death on sight every month or two to playfully fighting near to the death. they think its enriching. they r like platonic soulmates except instead of being friends they beat the shit out of eachother. cain instinct but u break the dial. i like them so much

thats about it so far, i made smokey some siblings this morning but ive been writing this instead of shoving them in the story. bye

tell me about rocky and smokey

rubs my hands together like a fly sit the fuck down for this

this is part 1 cause i got super lengthy with rocky, ill reblog with smokey soon, theres less about him

so rockys an 1800s bandit cowboy thing. his father was a famous outlaw (rattlesnake) who taught rocky everything he knew about thieving, stealing, and murdering. rocky didnt go to normal people school with normal people kids. as a result hes awkward and doesnt super care about social cues. when he was younger, too young for his father to take him on heists, rocky would spend allday everyday playin out in the woods and foraging for berries n bugs n stuff. enter: marcie.

marcie was born to stuck up, aristocratic parents up in maine. they moved down to kentucky (where rocky is) when she was 8-ish. they keep her cooped up inside all day with schooling, lessons, whatever boring shit they can come up with so she’ll often escape and play in the woods for as long as it takes her parents to find her. one day out in the forest, she meets rocky while his fathers away and theyre instantly best friends (they r the only child the other has ever had prolonged contact with (both only children))

so as they grow up, rocky starts going on heists with his dad, starts getting better and banditing, and starts becoming a Horrible influence. marcie thinks hes the best thing ever. (platonic, theyre both gay) she likes hanging out with him so much cause she thinks hes just so much more interesting than anyone shes ever met and leagues more fun than any of the snooty kids her age that her parents try to get her to hang out with

rocky hangs out with marcie cause shes also a lot different than anyone hes ever met. shes all prim and proper and knows weird skills that he thinks are fun. i have spent far too long on the backstory ok

so theyre 18, and marcie parents want to ship her off to a boarding school to be a doctor or whatever. fuck that. she runs away to bandit with rocky. now rockys dad, alameda is dead by this point, he was killed in a shootout and rockys learned from his dads mistakes. some time passes and rocky n marcie become a fearsome outlaw duo, cottonmouth and screech owl. i dont have any specific scenes that happen here so we’ll gloss over it.

so one day,

[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summary: It’s the late summer of 2004. You are set to travel across the country for university and your best friend Tom is staying behind. You spend your last night together before you leave. 

Themes: Friends to lovers, love confessions, first love. 

Warnings: Drinking beer. One mention of smoking weed. Mentions of parents fighting and also implied neglectful parents. Smut (+18), two spanks?? otherwise pretty tame.  

Word count: 3,4 k

Notes: I don’t know, this might be a bit different? Or it might just feel that way to me. It’s very reminiscent of teenage years and first love and nostalgia. Please let me know your thoughts, I’m genuinely not sure what to think about this one. 

Massive thank you to @augustholland​ who read through it and very kindly reassured me that it wasn’t bad 💖

Also, this fic was inspired by the Phoebe Bridgers song. I’ve never actually listened to it but it keeps showing up in my recommendation and i like the title of it so this is what i imagine that song is about. Mostly I listened to Harry Styles - Fine Line while writing this.

You finish up early that afternoon. Wayne, your old boss, tries not to cry as he hugs you goodbye. He tells you to take care in a gravelly voice close to breaking, as he avoids looking at you. It’s your last shift in the greasy bar, where for the last two years you’ve been selling cheap beer and watered down whiskey to weary old men and rowdy students who come in for a game of pool. It hasn’t paid much, just a few pounds an hour; just enough so that on each thursday you and Tom have enough money for movie tickets at the local cinema. It’s your tradition. Like a religious man goes to church each sunday; you spend your thursday nights with Tom’s arm slung around your shoulders, watching whatever new film they have on, sharing a bowl of popcorn between you. Afterwards you'll have burgers at the fast food joint across the street; talking about the movie long into the night, sharing a bag of fries. 

When you were younger and hadn’t been able to afford to pay Tom had sneaked you both into the cinema anyway.  Your hand in his, he had led the way into the movie theatre when no one was looking. Sitting in the back row he’d sneak you Fruit Polos to snack on, his arm slung around your shoulders, as you watched movies you were way too young for.

Last week was your final movie screening; some light-hearted American comedy, and the entire way through it you fought the lump in your throat, forcing yourself not to cry. Tom hadn’t laughed either; had just held you closer than usual. 

Tomorrow you are set to leave the small seaside town behind you, the place where you have spent most of your life, for a drive all across the country; to start university in a city you’ve only visited once before. You’re not sure when you’ll return.

Thus lately everything has been laced with goodbyes; childhood having reached its end.

Just two days ago there had been the last bonfire where you had watched the Holland boys fight each other while playing football as his parents looked on and laughed, grilling sausages over the open fire. 

It was on the same rocky beach where you have spent many summer days; grilling food on the open fire and throwing back cheap beer with your friends from school. You have scraped your knees on these rocks, burned your skin from both the bonfire and the sun there; have had your heart broken over and over and over again during your school years as you watched Tom kiss whatever girl he was dating at the time by the fire during summer night parties.

Maybe you had broken his heart a few times as well. 

As the afternoon light turns everything golden you drive through the main street in the small town where  everyone knows everybody, and has done for generations. You watch the people as you drive them by. You know everyone’s name, know each crack in the pavement; can find your way home in the dark. 

God knows how many shoes you’ve worn out over the years walking down these streets. 

The radio plays a blink-182 song you know by heart as you follow the road out of the city, through the woods and up to the coast. At the end of a muddy track, on the border to the forest, stands a shabby old caravan. It faces the beach and above the door christmas lights are lit up all year round. 

The Holland family legend says that Tom’s great uncle had won the small patch of land in a bet. Unable to build a large house he had bought a caravan and put it on the lot. The old man had lived in the Shed for the rest of his lifetime, before passing it on to Tom; the youngster of the family, his younger brothers having yet to be born. When he had turned seventeen he moved out of his parents larger, more comfortable house, and into the Shed. His mother had agreed on it on the condition he took on the apprenticeship to become a carpenter that he had been offered. 

You remember when he had told you of his decided future, one late evening as you sat on the driftwood by the beach, smoking weed and watching the sun set over the horizon. It had felt right somehow, you had been able to  imagine him working with his hands, skillfully forming and bending wood to his will; his long and slender fingers knowing just how to fix things. Tom has always been good at mending things. It had been three years now and he was a full time employee at the JBT Carpentry Services. He says it doesn’t pay much, but he’s happy; and that's all that matters.

As you park the car outside the Shed Tom comes out. Standing under the colorful christmas lights he grins widely as he sees you, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The most genuine smile you know. He’s tanned from a summer spent on the beach, his hair a wavy mess; as if he’d just woken up from sleep. It’s a warm august day and the world seems sunbleached somehow; but in the afternoon light Tom looks golden. 

You are painfully aware that it is the last time you’ll see him like this for many months to come.

Walking up to him and he gives you a bear-hug; his warm, hard body pressed against yours, holding onto you tightly. With your face in the crook of his neck you breathe him in and discover that a faint trace of bonfire smoke still lingers on his skin. It all feels achingly familiar and safe. So heartrendingly unlike the uncertain life at university that lies in front of you.

Tom is your safe place.

Your parents had always fought like cat and dog and sometimes when you were younger and  they’d argue you’d climb through your window and walk all the way over to the Holland household. You were always welcomed there and his parents didn’t ask any questions, no matter how late the hour; instead they fed you, treating you like a member of the family around the dining table with gentle teasing and reminders of homework that needed to be done, letting you sleep over when needed. No questions asked. 

With the years the fighting at home got worse. When Tom fixed himself a beat-up old Land Rover and moved out to the Shed you’d call him from the payphone down the road. He’d always answer, telling you to pack up; and that he was on his way. He’d pick you up by the end of the street, a duffle bag with schoolbooks and a change of clothes slung over your shoulder. He’d take you back to his place to sleep. His caravan only had one bed, so you used to curl up next to each other in bed. On the nights when you were crying he’d hold you, and in the morning he’d make you breakfast before you both went off to school. 

Your parents never noticed your temporary absence. 

Tom lets go of the hug, but with an arm around your waist he leads you into his home. There’s a lingering scent of fried food in the air and the boombox is playing the 3 Doors down CD he’s been obsessed with since you bought it for his birthday. You tread the cherry wood veneered flooring with your battered tennis shoes, feeling more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

 “Fancy a beer?” Tom asks, leading the way to the kitchen area. “Warn you though, it's warm. Just got back from the store so they haven’t had time to cool”.

Everything is warm today, and the caravan is no exception. The ancient AC had given in years ago and Tom could never afford having it fixed. You heave yourself up on the countertop, replying a simple “sure” to his question. 

He opens a Stella and hands it to you. He isn’t wrong, the beer is tepid. Yet you drown half the bottle in one big swig; happy just to have something to do with your hands when he’s standing so close to you. Gulping down on the liquid and you cannot help but notice Tom’s eyes on your throat as you swallow. He opens a bottle for himself and takes a swig. 

You smile at the ancient gray t-shirt he’s wearing. At one point there had been a band logo on it, but it has long since been washed out. He notices you smiling at him and as if it's infectious a smile broadens on his face as well. “What?” he asks, leaning against the small counter across from you.

“Nothing” you say, smiling wider. “Just wondered how many times I’ve seen you in that shirt. I mean, it has to be near a couple of thousand times by now”.

“You don't exactly love buying new clothes either” he says, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he looks at your washed out jeans shorts. “I know for a fact that those aren’t new, darling”. His eyes linger on your legs for a moment too long before he looks away, taking a swig from his beer. 

“So, when are you leaving?” He asks, and you can tell that he’s trying to sound relaxed, but leaned against the countertop, his arms crossed in front of him, head bowed; holding onto the bottle of Stella he’s nursing with a tight grip. He looks tense and on edge. 

“Tomorrow morning”

He takes a swig from his beer. There’s nothing more to say, not really. Everything that happens now is just aftermath; you might as well have already left. 

“I’m nervous” you admit, biting your lip, trying hard not to et out the tears you’ve been holding in for days now; embarrassed that your voice trembles on the last word. 

His head snaps up to look at you. Pushing off the counter he takes a step forward, placing himself in between your legs. 

“Hey” he says, with a voice a low and gentle as a whisper, his hand cupping your cheek. You look up at him; long dark eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes, his thin lips slightly parted and across his nose freckles are spread out, the result from a summer spent in the sun. His calloused hand strokes your cheek. “You’re going to take them by storm, Pebbles”.

You smile, despite your fluttering heart. He hasn’t called you Pebbles for a long time. It had been his nickname for you when you first became friends, the reason behind it long forgotten. He was the only one to ever call you it, and the name had lingered long into your late teenage years. 

“You took me by storm,” he admits. 

You blink up at him through wet eyelashes. Your family had moved to the town when you were ten years old. This was the kind of small town that strangers seldom came to and inhabitants rarely left; and so the new addition to the small local school had everyone talking. You had felt like an astronaut shuffled into space on your first day, trying to find gravity in the unfamiliar school corridors. You had felt the pull of gravity in form of the brown-eyed boy sitting next to you in english class. He had given you a warm smile as you sat down next to him. He had made you his friend, listened to you and confided in you; had made you laugh until your stomach ached. You found further gravity in his home; surrounded by his family and their endless squabbles and laughter, sitting next to Tom at the dinner table.

It hadn’t taken long before you and Tom were an inseparable item; your names always linked to one another in the mouths of others. 

“You’ve worked so hard for this scholarship” he says, and the corners of his mouth tugs up into a smile, “I mean, I’m pretty certain you’re the only reason I even finished school”.

You had helped him write most of his essays at school. He’d struggled with reading a lot and found the assigned novels difficult. There were evenings where you’d spend hours laying on the bed; twisting the phone cord between your fingers, as you read the books out loud for him. 

Sometimes, in order to be left alone from his parents and younger brothers, he’d walk down to the end of the street and to the payphone there, where he’d spend all his pennies listening to you reading. You had talked and talked until your voice got hoarse; until he ran out of pennies. Yet when he hung up you always felt a tug of longing in your chest, knowing you wouldn’t be able to see him until the next day in school. 

“Well,  I heard you’re doing pretty good as a carpenter” you say, smiling up at him. “I always knew you’d be good with your hands”. 

As soon as you’ve said it you can feel your face heat up. You had heard the rumours at school; Tom Holland is a stellar fuck. Once, while you were in the bathroom stall, you had heard a gang of girls discuss it as they reapplied their lipgloss in the mirror. One of them told the story of her one night stand with Tom, how he had made her come several times over with his hands and mouth; how he’d fucked her so long and so good. You had stood in the stall, your heart in your throat; feeling sick to your stomach, but unable to stop listening.

There were girls that reached out to you in school, knowing you were Tom’s closest friend, and asked you in hushed but awed voices if it was true. If he really that good in bed.

He looks you dead in the eye, an unusual seriousness to his warm eyes. He knows what you’re thinking, knows what thoughts have made your cheeks flush with colour. Letting go of your cheek he places his arms on either side of you on the counter; caging you in. 

“There’s never been anyone but you, Pebbles. Not really.” His tone is heavy with meaning and you feel light-headed; both oddly detached from your own body and painfully aware of the closeness of his. Your heart is beating hard in your chest. 

This is a line you’ve never crossed before. 

“I know I’m ruining everything by saying this, but you’re leaving tomorrow and I’ve been walking around with this secret lodged in my chest like a bullet since i was ten years old; I love you, Pebbles. I’ve always have”.

You should speak. You should tell him that you’ve known for a long time how he’s felt. That it’s been evident in the way his eyes keep lingering on your legs, in the way his arm usually finds its way to rest around your waist. In the way he’s always been there for you. You should tell him that you understand why he hasn’t been able to voice his feelings for you; because you haven’t done it either. Too scared of losing him. But your breath has caught in your throat and all you can focus on is those caramel eyes on you, and how hard your heart is beating in your chest.

“I love you too” you say, voice hardly louder than a whisper. You swear there was music coming from the boom box but all you can hear is the blood rushing through your body. 

He kisses you.

He takes your mouth slowly, kissing you thoroughly until you can’t think straight; can’t remember any other kiss than his. Then his lips move over yours with more fervour; more urgency, one hand around your throat and the other tangled in your hair. He kisses you until you're both moaning and gasping for more. 

This is it. You’ve crossed the invisible line between friends and lovers; and there is no return, no going back from here. When you leave tomorrow you will leave knowing what his mouth feels like pressed against your.

You dig your hands into his soft hair, runs them both up his chest, realising that this is what your hands were made for. He lifts you off the counter and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves you both across the caravan and into the bedroom. It’s baking hot in there and you can already feel sweat forming at the low end of your back. The room, just big enough for a bed to fit, is lit up with sunlight. His bed is a mess of rumpled white sheets and the walls are the same cherry wood colour as the rest of the caravan. 

You kiss and lick his jaw, his neck, his throat; anywhere you can reach you stroke him. You tug at his hair, kiss his soft lips, and nib at his ear. It’s like the gates have been opened, because even though his arm has always been a comforting presence around your waist; and even though you’ve slept in the same bed more times than you can count, his body curled up next to yours, forming himself like a question mark around your body; he’s never been yours to touch before. Not like this.

His breathing is accelerated, his chest rising and falling in rapid speed, and so is yours. There’s a heat to his eyes that tells you he’s just as turned on as you are. You pull at his shirt before he’s even laid you down on the bed; impatiently craving all his warm, suntanned skin pressed against yours. It’s an almost feverish frenzy, and in the back of your mind you know that you should take this slow. You don’t want this to end too soon, because this might be all you get. But the sun hasn’t even set yet and through the old white-washed curtains you helped put up and light shines through, bathing you both sunshine. 

Outside the waves keep crashing against the shore and in the kitchen his boombox keeps playing songs you’ve heard a million times before. It is like it always has been at Tom’s, except that for laying on his sofa and talking he’s removing your clothes; kissing his way down your body. Wet, opened mouth kisses that leave a trail of heat in its wake that have you bucking your hips up for more. His hands are everywhere, exploring your legs. He’s looking at your skin with wide-eyes adoration. With his body in between your wide spread legs he kisses the soft inside of your thighs. 

“So soft” he groans against your skin, “and so sweet”.

You feel overheated and breathless; aching all over from wanting him. Perched up on your elbows you observe him; his dark hair brushing against the low of your stomach as he kisses the tender skin of your hip bone. He bares his teeth and bites the sensitive flesh. 

His hand cups your cunt. You’re wet and aching and as you presses his thumb to your clit, gently but steadily moving up and down, you feel like you’re going to combust. His strokes are soft at first, before speeding up, making you moan wantonly, spreading your legs wider for him.

“Glad you like that,” he says, a satisfied smile spreading on his face. “Do my fingers feel good on you, darling?”

All you can do is moan in response, arching and moving your hips up to meet his hand. His movements are fast and slippery and it doesn’t take long until your close, so close, so close; on the brink of tipping over and then - 

A sharp slap on your pussy, leaving a stinging bite, and it is like the world splits into two. 

“God” you moan, voice hoarse. You’re shuddering all over; moanes falling freely from your lips. 

He looks up at you from his position in between your legs, his dark eyes sparkling. He kisses the soft inside of your thighs again. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you here?” he asks. “I bet you do, torturing me for fun in those short jeans shorts”. He spanks your pussy again and you couldn’t have stopped the moan falling from your lips even if you tried. “How long I’ve wanted to taste you here?”. And he places a hot kiss on your wet slit. You can feel his soft hair pressed against your thighs; his warm breath against your skin.

His lips part and he covers you with his mouth, his tongue moving over your opening; touching you, stroking you, tasting you. A guttural moan leaves him. He looks up at you through tassels of hair, caramel eyes glued to your face.

You fall back against the mattress, “more” you demand, in a voice that sounds a lot like begging. “Please, more”.

It is as if he’s been unleashed. You have never felt anything like it, but he laps you up, tastes you; his fingers moving inside you; pressing against the place that has you seeing stars. You can’t even look at him now, you’re eyes shut; too overwhelmed by the stimulation. Both aching for more but not sure if your body can handle that kind of pleasure. Your thighs are shaking, and something in your stomach grows tighter and tighter by each flick of his tongue against your clit.

“I’m coming” you cry out breathlessly “fuck I’m coming”

And you do. Hard. He keeps kissing and touching you through it; both grounding you and dragging out the intense sensation. 

His hands, now familiar with your thighs, make their way up to the soft swell of your breasts, as you struggle to regain your breath. He’s cupping them in his hands, pinching your nipples in between his fingers, kissing them with ferveor. Hungry hands move over your breasts, your stomach, your face; cupping it so that he can kiss you with the sort of yearning that comes from years of unanswered desire. 

Your hands move over his body as well, moving over his abdomen chest and arms, defined from long hours of hard work. You kiss his throat and collarbones, kissing at the skin; licking, sucking and biting until you hear guttural moans coming from his throat. His lips are slightly parted, and his glossy dark eyes are fixed on your face; his fingers loosely tangled in your hair. 

He presses you down onto the mattress again, until he’s face to face; his arms on each side of your face, holding himself over you.

“You sure?” he asks, voice hoarse, panting slightly. 

“I want this” you answer him, voice low but clear, “I really, really want this Tom”

He smiles, breathing out the breath he’d been holding and moves away from you, reaching for the side of his bed and to take out a condom from the drawer. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, your cheek, your belly button, before he sits up. He removes his underwear and you can feel your face heat up again. Because this is Tom, your Tom, whom you’ve been in love with for half your life. But being with him, both naked as the day you were born, feels right. You know everything about this man, all his preferences and secrets; his favourite movie and how he likes his food and why he skipped class every day for a month in year nine. And he knows everything about you. It feels right that he should know this as well; know each curve of your body and the way you like to be kissed and what has you moaning and begging for more. 

He unwraps the foil package and puts the condom on with firm fingers. Leaning over you again he lines up against your opening. His eyes glossy with lust, damp hair falling over his face; his mouth swollen and wet from kissing you.

Then with a sharp thrust and a groan he’s inside you. 

All coherent thoughts go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you. The only thing that exists is his strong, sweaty body above you, moving in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts. He’s so hard where you are soft and you can’t stop touching him, dragging your fingers over his back, pulling at his hair, kissing his arms. It’s like the wires in your brain have crossed, sending out sparks of pure pleasure in your body. 

He hits a particularly tender spot inside you and the groan that leaves you is almost animalistic.

Tom nearly halters in his pace, before collecting himself again. “Fuck” he moans out, kissing your neck. His movements become more frenzied and you roll your hips under him, meeting his movements; trying to get him deeper inside you. 

He pushes himself up onto his hands, pulls back slightly; and pushes in. Starting to really fuck you. 

You can’t stop looking up at him; naked body damp with sweat, muscles moving as he works; arms flexed and cheeks flushed. His eyes are closed pleasure now. Your hands are on his hips helping him set the pace as he fucks into you with fast, hard thrusts. Without warning you clutch around him in pleasure and he groans loudly.

“How the fuck does your cunt feel better than it tastes?” he asks, panting for air. “

He presses a hand over your heart, letting it rest there. You wonder if he can feel it pounding for him. You feel like you’re dissolving into a thousand tiny pieces as you come around him with a choked scream. 

He’s so close and you can practically feel it; aching for him to have it. You want him to come; in you, on you, over you. 

And then he does, his brows furrows; like the pleasure is so intense it hurts him. The sounds he makes when he comes are guttural; almost whimpering. 

As he falls down on the bed beside you he pulls you close, has you pressed against his body, an arm firmly wrapped around you. The sun has set now, but the ocean waves still crash onto the shore, the sound of it the only thing to fill the silence part from your laboured breathing; the music having gone quiet in the other room. 

Neither one of you say anything. You knew the end to this when he kissed you. You’ve regretted nothing that has happened here, and you know that he doesn’t either; but tomorrow you are leaving to drive all the way across the country and he cannot follow. You don’t know what will happen now, and he doesn't have the answer to that either. And so you just let him hold you; wishing with all your might that you could stop the morning from coming.

***

Please let me know your thoughts, genuinely don’t know what to make of this one. 

[phenomenalcosmicpowers]

G5 MOVIE THOUGHTS FOLLOWUP - THE ANCIENT EQUESTRIAN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

SPOILER WARNING: THIS WILL GET INTO SPOILERS FOR THE G5 MOVIE EVEN BEFORE THE BREAK. IT HAS BEEN JUST OVER A WEEK SINCE THE MOVIE PREMIERED. BUT IF YOU STILL HAVEN'T SEEN IT, PLEASE SCROLL PAST THIS.

This is something of a follow-up to my thoughts on the movie. My thoughts on the movie were generally positive. Though much like the movie itself, the positive thoughts were on what it’s doing on it’s own merit as the start of a new generation of pony media. As someone who had followed Generation 4 from all the way in the middle of Season 1 to the ending of Season 9, the connection the G5 movie makes with the previous generation in the opening scenes are enough that it’s necessary to give a perspective from a G4 fan’s point of view. Again, I do want to say that G5 will be within it’s right to not have to answer so many plot things at once and try to stand on it’s own by exploring the characters and this new Equestria first.

That said, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the longer none of the questions G4 fans will have are answered. There is a huge elephant in the room with the unanswered questions from G4. And It is Hasbro’s fault in the first place for telling us it’s the same Equestria, There will be fans that are annoying about it from multiple angles, and there will probably be times where people who just want to enjoy G5 on it’s own just outright snap at anyone who wants their answers about what happened in between G4 and G5. Even if the person who asks the question is just genuinely curious and not being demanding there be answers. This is just the kind of thing that all fandoms that have timeskip sequels, especially ones where it overrides a happy ending where discussing with other friends can get dicey.

HAPPY ENDING OVERRIDES AND ALICORNS

Until we get an official answer from the show itself, we can only theorize with each other. Though theorizing about a happy ending override, regardless of how long it’s been and/or how sensible the theory is can start some heated discussions, Cause many were content with the happy ending of the original. While no realistic story ever has a happily ever after, a story within a fantasy land such as MLP’s can be an exception.

Let me give something of a comparison by bringing up another show. Avatar: The Last Airbender is perhaps my favorite show of all-time. And while it’s true I didn’t like the sequel series Korra as much as A:TLA. It wasn’t because of some happy ending override with at least half of the main cast from the previous series deceased. The Avatars themselves are just as human as the other characters in the world. Avatar’s still a fantasy world when all is said and done, but the way the world building is done still made it feel like it it was possible for the world to be in danger again by the time the next Avatar is grown up, most known Avatars had challenges they had to face. The Avatar series blends some form of realism but still manages to provide a fun fantasy world. It’s a case where it’s believable that the main legacy of Aang’s time as the Avatar aside from defeating the Fire Lord where he created Republic City would have it’s own fair share of problems that would be left to his successor to solve. Aang in turn was finishing the war that Roku failed to stop. So while I have my criticisms about Korra, none of those are related to the way the world is after the timeskip. It reasonably makes sense in the context of the Avatar universe.

In contrast, there isn’t much we know about the past of G4 and it’s a much more idealistic setting then in Avatar. Yes, ponies die with what I assume are human-esque lifespans for the exception of the Alicorns. But Friendship is Magic is a setting where the power of friendship is literal magic power that can save the day even when things look bleak. As a result it can get very sappy, but FiM is the kind of show you watch to put a smile on your face rather then go to for a multi-faceted plot. Most episodes of FiM are the kind of thing you see in a lot of other shows. But what brings most of it’s fans back even for the most overdone plots is the characters and their interactions. FiM’s lore is a lot less straight forward, and sometimes may feel not as consistent given there were so many different writers over the long span of time. That said, there is something about the series that sort of ties in heading into G5 and that’s G4’s history, and especially Alicorn lore. We don’t get a lot of either even back in G4, as the most we get is the founding of Equestria was through the Hearth’s Warming Eve story, and the knowledge that Alicorns like Celestia and Luna are at least older then 1000. Which is a huge gap compared to the Avatars that no matter how powerful, have similar mortality to our own. Throughout G4’s time, the debate about Alicorns have raged throughout the whole time even before things got really heated upon Twilight becoming an Alicorn in Magical Mystery Cure. Some went with Celestia and Luna being the only immortal Alicorns while Cadence and Twilight were somehow lesser Alicorns that aren’t immortal but maybe at least still a longer lifespan then their normal pony friends and family. Though as of Season 9, that may be turned on it’s head when in The Last Problem. Twilight eventually grows to Celestia-size as Celestia and Luna even retire to let Twilight succeed them. If Twilight is somehow a lesser Alicorn, why did she grow to Celestia’s size? Why did Celestia and Luna retire in the first place if they knew Twilight will not be as long lived as they are? Perhaps part of the reason G5 has as many questions as it does is because G4 itself created questions it never promised to answer.

That said, the implied length of Celestia and Luna’s rule still presents G5 with a problem that will be asked everywhere. Even if we go with the possibility that most of the Mane 6 have passed from old age, you still have to answer something about Twilight. If Twilight is also dead, how long did she live? Did she at least have an over-1000 year reign as Celestia did? Was perhaps Luster Dawn chosen to be her younger co-ruler if Luster herself ascended at some point? The kind of things that might actually force G5 into a corner when it comes to Alicorns despite the fact G4 never had to, especially now that Sunny may have just become one herself. This is once again, another of the traps Hasbro put the writing team through by having them put it in the same world. G5 thus not only adds questions about what happened in between the Generations, but also now has to inherit what remained unanswered in G4. That is a VERY tall task on a team that will likely just want to do their own little fun pony show. It’ll raise expectations too high, and there will be annoyed fans regardless how they spin it. Which could have all been avoided if they set it up that this was an entirely new world, or made G4 a fictional story (With all the references to it being mainly merchandise for a really meta look at things) in the G5 universe. You’d still have people complaining about it not being as good as G4 probably, but the approach they went with added more gasoline to the fire whenever G4 Vs. G5 debates happen in the MLP fandom. And inter-fandom generation fights are never fun, just ask the Pokemon and the Sonic fandoms how that turns out (Even though there’s no Generation number count for the Sonic franchise. You could say Gen 1 of Sonic was the classic era. Gen 2 was the Sonic Adventure Era. Gen 3 was the “Dark Age” Sonic 2006-Sonic Unleashed era. Gen 4 the Sonic Colors and Generations era. and Gen 5 the current Sonic Forces and Team Sonic Racing era. And then of course there’s also the different TV shows and comic books that also have their own fans that can be at each other’s throats).

There isn’t going to be an easy solution to something that will no doubt have fans on the edge on their seat even if they will be left to hang on that edge for a longtime before G5 starts to give some answers. I think I’ll at least bring up 3 things that will probably be part of the discussions of just what happened between G4 and G5

(More after the break)

1. AND THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FIRE NATION AN UNKNOWN THREAT ATTACKED

With G4 being considered Ancient Equestria. It’s probably safe to assume this is at least 1,000 years after G4. And 1,000 or more is a really, really, long time. Where anything could of happened, including *GASP* a villain actually winning at some point (Or at least, did some lasting damage even if they were ultimately defeated). Though I think even with that possibility, there has to be a sense that the villain didn’t defeat the Mane 6 while the other members aside from Twilight were still alive. If Twilight was at some point defeated. Perhaps the villain struck when Twilight was most vulnerable. You could also have it that Twilight somehow sacrificed herself to defeat a large threat. She saved Equestria one last time, but at the cost of even her long-lasting alicorn life. With the populace left on their own to continue life without Twilight, but the loss of their longtime leader too much for Equestria. Thus a slow decline happened.

As for who the threat was it’ll probably be a while if we ever know. Perhaps the real Grogar showed up at some point and was truly a harrowing threat to deal with. Or something entirely new. Maybe it wasn’t even a villain, but a catastrophic natural disaster. Whatever it is, if this is the case. We’d have to deal with the sad thought of something being too much for even Twilight to handle

2. TWILIGHT BECAME DEPRESSED/JADED AFTER HER FRIENDS PASSED. POSSIBLY EVIL TOO?

This would basically be the cliche sadfic ending. Where after everyone of the Mane 6 has passed. Twilight just never felt the same afterward. Though I do feel like there is the slight counterpoint that maybe Twilight would still have Celestia and/or Luna (maybe, again we’ve never ever gotten full confirmation of how long Alicorns live. Just assured that it’s more then 1000 years) and she’d most certainly still have a full grown Spike and any of her friends descendants. Death is always a sad reality, but you have to wonder if Twilight would have prepared herself by the time that comes. Twilight would have not gone as far as she did without the rest of the Mane 6. But while I’m sure it would be a tearjerking moment, it’s not like Twilight wouldn’t have other friends she made throughout the generations. Celestia and Luna also must of gone through the same thing living for more then 1000 years, yet they seem pretty fine. So while the subject of “immortality blues” is prime for sadfic material in the fandom. It feels like there’d have to be more nuance then that, if this were the reason the time between G4 and G5 led into each other.

Supposedly, this theory is picking up some form of steam. To the point that a head canon is rolling around is that it was actually Twilight who sealed the magic away in the first place for one reason or another. Essentially making Twilight, in a huge plot twist, a villain in G5 or at the very least someone who took the magic with them into some form of Limbo very similar to Starswirl and the other founders during the Season 7 finale. I… personally don’t know how I’d feel about that. They’d have to be very careful with the execution of such a twist. And I’d want more nuance then simply Twilight getting sad about the deaths of her friends. At the very least, it’d likely eventually get to a point where this villainous incarnation of Twilight is reformed and probably becomes a recurring character from then on. But the writers will have to tread very carefully if this is the direction they take.

3. G5 IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT UNIVERSE/TIMELINE. JUST FOR THE MOST PART THE MAJOR EVENTS OF "ANCIENT EQUESTRIA" STILL HAPPENED

Perhaps this last one really gets into a more desperate side to deflect any possibility that the ending of G4 could of deteriorated into what the world becomes at the start of G5. I know there will be plenty that will be too frustrated with the lack of satisfactory answers that they annoy people in the comment sections, getting into situations where sometimes the only answer to those people will be others that just want to watch G5 as a fun show with a “cope”, “read a history book”, or “deal with it”. But honestly, there can be a case here. As I mentioned in my thoughts in the movie. There are visual details on characters and/or lore that while they may seem minor, to the point that even if they do ever answer important questions such as what caused magic to disappear and/or what happened to Alicorns like Twilight. That the staff may ignore completely because they think it’s too small of a detail to bother including. But the most nitpicky fan can and will latch on small excuses into why it can’t be the same.

Let’s begin with the one-sided Cutie Mark. Again, while it’s true that previous generations made this a tradition. And it was only on one side on the G4 toys as well, as the actual reason it was on both sides in the G4 show was because it was easier for the flash animators. That said, it’s still a big pony design inconsistency. Because regardless of it was only to make things easier, it became a staple because of how long G4 lasted. So it was still so weird to see early screenshot and artwork of G5 characters with grown ponies with no mark. When that wasn’t possible in G4, as it turned out it was because the one-sided cutie mark returned. But one side as opposed to both sides is still a significant difference. Similarly, the horns and wingtips being a different color then the coat may also be a significant difference. Of course I know it can be just waved off as art style difference, as the art direction is no longer based on what Faust wanted the ponies to look like. It’s still plausible enough for someone to discredit it as truly in continuity with G4. Cause even for those that are on the side of “More then 1000 years is a long time, anything could of happened” it’s a lot harder to argue against inconsistencies such as cutie marks only being on one side unless they switch gears to the meta explanation of “G4’s double sided cutie mark was not intentional, at least at first”. But from what most people saw in the G4 show, G4 ponies had marks on both sides. And the G5 ponies don’t. It’s again, quite nitpicky. But it’s enough to start a case that at the very least, the ancient past of G4 is not 100% the same G4 we saw in the show.

Speaking of not the same G4 we saw in the show, another possibility is that G5 actually came out of an alternate timeline. Where perhaps the last two seasons did not happen. If perhaps it’s a timeline where major events in the show either ended anywhere between the end of Season 4 or the end of Season 7, then it starts to feel a little more possible. (Supposedly, the tree of harmony in it’s Season 9 form that might counteract it. But then again it had none of the treehouse architecture and was all wood. Which ironically may lead into it leaning more that the G4 show isn’t the same continuity). If the events of the Friendship School nor everything else that leads to the ending we saw in The Last Problem. It’d be a lot more palatable because the pretty much implied world peace ending with non-ponies in the mix included is discounted. There’d still be questions even in this scenario, like did Celestia and Luna still retire in this timeline then. And regardless if they did or not, the show would still be burdened with the question of what happened to the Alicorns. But it’d at least solve the most pressing question with the peace of The Last Problem being squandered. Because perhaps in this timeline, the Mane 6 never went that far. Perhaps it would imply some sort of indirect failure in that case. But this is perhaps a scenario they had a similar foreign policy as Celestia did. Not really hostile to anyone, but not intervening even in ways that could be helpful. Heck, if we go far enough in saying that G5\s G4 (As confusing as that may sound) was different from what we saw in Friendship is Magic, what if there were differences even early on for one reason or another? With how vague the connection is, we only know that the Mane 6 were friends and Twilight still became a princess at some point. From there. potentially a lot of other things may have gone differently other then that.

Again, saying G5 is a completely different universe/timeline is probably always going to sound like a desperate way for people who cannot possibly believe the ending of G4 eventually led to the start of G5. And I’d understand why that’ll annoy people who just want to watch the G5 series on it’s own merits. But it really wouldn’t be entirely the fans to blame for that attitude. G4 lasted a whole decade, many got attached to the characters/world we saw that had about the happiest ending it could possibly be. It should naturally make people unhappy that in a few ways it’s stomping over a happy ending for this fantasy world that many watched to escape from the realities of the real world.

Even with the long time allotted of 1000+ years or more, that’s made complicated by the implied long lives of the Alicorns from G4. Only opening up that can of worms further by seemingly making Sunny an alicorn. There’s a debate on whether this form is permanent, but if it’s NOT permanent. That arguably adds yet another addition to the list of reasons it may fall out of continuity. The only time we had a temporary Alicorn transformation (outside of Animation errors, or dream sequences like Big Mac’s) was when Cozy was an Alicorn after receiving some of the magic from Grogar’s bell. But even in that case, Cozy’s wings were not more like a glowy hologram like Sunny’s wings seem to be. And even if it is permanently on Sunny now, the design for Alicorns is too different. Adding onto the one-sided cutie marks, and different colored wings and horns. So the G5 writers may actually be stuck in a lose/lose situation when it comes to Alicorns after the ending of the movie. I think whether Sunny is permanently an Alicorn or not, they may not elaborate enough about it. And it’ll be among the headaches in the comment section (Though may at least be a reprieve from the political discussions G5 are going to have on occasion I imagine.)

Hasbro chose to try to say this is the same Equestria, and a new show needs conflicts to solve. But from the perspective of some G4 fans… it forces a world they loved, to get torn down into arguably a more divided world then even the Hearth’s Warming tale. Which said tale seems to have been implied to be from before Princess Celestia and Luna were around (Based on the lore of the unicorns being the one to raise the sun and moon) and thus yes. Somehow, if everything that happened in G4 is canon to G5. Then the world peace in The Last Problem in just a thousand years or so become worse then even Celestia’s sole rule.

RESPONDING TO “READ A HISTORY BOOK”

I’ve mentioned before, you can try to point to World History to point why this is a realistic take. But again, we don’t have an ancient civilization from 1000 years ago that we look up to as the pinnacle of peace in the world (Like I said, the Golden age of Ancient Greece and/or Rome still had slavery and brutal wars). That has literally never happened. What was shown in the Last Problem very much looked like it was that for Equestria. I feel it’s a terrible interpretation of time, especially in regards to the context that the leaders of Equestria tend to live for at least more then 1000 years to imply things would just go backward like that.

CONCLUSION

The movie on it’s own merits is a good start for the generation, though at the same time. It’s going to have some hard questions that’ll often be no-win situations for the writers. They can choose to ignore the G4 questions, understandably trying to tiptoe around as many cans of worms as possible which would allow them to do whatever the heck they want with G5. Maybe even getting a few stragglers frustrated with no answers to just shrug and continue watching anyway if the show entertains them enough. Or they can certainly try to at least give some answers on the biggest questions (What happened to the magic, and/or what was the fate of G4’s alicorns) but risk having an answer that just adds even more questions.

The movie is a decent start for a new generation if you only view it as a pilot for a new series, but if you view it as a sequel to Friendship is Magic. There are certainly problematic issues with that currently. Maybe the special in Spring, or the eventual Series will cover some of this but it does leave fans waiting a while for answers that they’re not promised to get, or at least not as quickly as they’d like. Remember when I mentioned that I may view some of this similarly to how I was about Starlight Glimmer after her sudden redemption at the end of Season 5? With many questions I wanted to know about Starlight before I could really accept her as a recurring character? (And not really fully coming into terms with her until I expanded on her myself in a story for I Dream of Twilight Sparkle) This may be how I have to view the connection of G4 and G5.

They can go one of two routes: At least try to give as much of a clear explanation as possible. Even if it’s one that doesn’t exactly answer everything, at least giving a good try may help with those who have questions remaining in relation to G4. If instead however, they go the Season 6 Starlight route of just about ignoring all the questions fans have, it’ll make things frustrating for many. At least with Starlight, she wasn’t the major focus in every episode. That said, Season 6’s job was to endear us more to her reformed character. Now with G5’s setup, it may be running well into a corner where they must try to answer what happened in between G4 and G5 or else you end up making a lot of fans lukewarm or worse to your series. Starlight’s reformation and then lack of ability of Season 6 to explain more about Starlight to us was a divisive moment. And G5 involving G4 brings over the same kind of feeling but on a larger scale because now it’s in the very premise of the generation’s plot, it’s less avoidable compared to one character. Because even when it comes to episodes that will not further the plot and it’s just a fun friendly moment between the members of the mane 5, this movie is how they met and thus the not fully explained premise would always be looming over like a large shadow. It probably doesn’t help that they’re basically starting with a reformed Starlight-esque moment when it comes to introducing it’s premise AND on top of that something similar although certainly with at least a lot less backlash then with Alicorn Twilight since it came so soon. Though I do have to think there will be people who think this was way too soon to be ascending Sunny, since at least we got to see Twilight’s journey to Alicornhood (Even if you weren’t a fan of the episode she ascended in). Sunny arguably does earn her Alicornhood through implied years of working to unite the ponies. But it can still feel too soon when you had 2 1/2 seasons worth of episodes before Twilight did, while Sunny did so within one movie.

Someone’s ultimate thoughts on G5 might end up being what they are looking for in this new generation. If they’re looking for just about everything new. The movie provides plenty of that with new characters, new locations, and a more modernized world compared to G4 Equestria (Even if G4 Equestria had it’s own fair share of electronics it looked like, such as video game machines). If you’re in this for the G4 references. Aside from the very beginning of the movie, you’re kind of stuck doing a where’s waldo for most of the movie. And no guarantees you’ll get much more then that later. As I said in the trailer thoughts, the G4 stuff could very much be just Hasbro trying to bake it’s cake and eat it too. With a world that feels like it should be it’s own thing, but they didn’t want to commit entirely to that. So they shoehorn G4 in as the ancient past without giving a proper explanation to how point A (the end of G4) got to point B (the start of G5). It’s only been about a week since the movie premiered, but there is just so much to digest. And for those looking for answers to the G4 elephant in the room, may feel like they get nothing but metaphorical tummy aches for a long time.

I’ll end this off by having a message to both people who already feel like they’ll be fans of G5, as well as people like me who were fans of G4 and have concerns about where G5 may be doing to it’s legacy.

For the G5 fans, as I mentioned in the trailer thoughts. I still hope that it turns out ultimately good. I don’t know where things will go from here but the G5 movie taking in context that it’s basically a really long series premiere, had some genuinely enjoyable moments. At the same time, I hope anyone in the G5 fanbase can try to understand why G4 fans have the concerns that they do. I’ll repeat, G4 lasted a decade and was the absolute peak of MLP’s popularity. There will be a lot of people attached to that world, and understandably upset about the implication that it got torn down into how the world is at the start of G5. If they’re really annoying about it, I can understand why you couldn’t hold the urge to snap at them to “Get over it” just try not to snap at the ones who are just asking curiously. I’m personally not going to spam comment threads with “THIS DOESN’T FIT WITH G4!” or “HASBRO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS PLEASE”, but I would be lying if I were to say I’m not just as curious about what those type of fans want to know too.

And as for G4 fans like me, if G5 ever upsets you in some fashion. It’s ok to stop watching and just stay quiet whenever you find yourself in a conversation about G5 and only participate in G4 matters in the fandom. This is a natural evolution of a fandom’s lifecycle where eventually a direction a franchise is taken to a place some others don’t like. So you’re only left to mainly talk with those who prefer an older generation and/or incarnation. Just because G5 has started and even though Hasbro says it’s the same world as G4. You can still do G4 content by itself and ignore G5. If you still have the inclination to do stuff with G4, do it. Generation 5 is not stopping people from still drawing the G4 characters, or writing more stories about them, or even if you don’t feel you’re that creative. Support artists who are still drawing G4 ponies, and/or rewatch some of your favorite episodes of Friendship is Magic that give you a smile. MLP has lasted since the 80s, and while for the most part to Hasbro it’s to sell toys. Toys, and the shows surrounding them’s purpose is to make the people watching or playing with them smile. From the little girls in the 80s to the much more diverse both gender-wise and age-wise fandom that came out of G4. The cute ponies are supposed to make us happy, and it’s ok to get back into a comfort zone if perhaps a different part of Ponies don’t give you the same feeling or even upset you in some way. Also as a vice versa to my message to G5 fans, try as best you can not to provoke those enjoying G5. If the G5 movie and/or episodes makes them as happy as your favorite G4 episodes/movies you should let them be. Many of us had to deal with that crap just for daring liking a pony show at all early on in the fandom. Try not to add to the toxicity as best you can. G4 is not going to be forgotten, the fact Hasbro decided to try to make it in the same universe actually has the side effect of making sure of that. Cause maybe you have fans that enter the MLP franchise through G5 curious about what happened in the past. And thus, they can be led to watch the previous generation. New G5 fans could potentially also become new G4 fans and friends. In other words, friendship… is still magic!

[elizabeth-mitchells]

Andy and Quynh One Shots - #101

Chapters: 101/101 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020), The Old Guard (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Andy | Andromache the Scythian/Quynh | Noriko Characters: Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Immortal Wives Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Immortality, One Shot Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, Originally Posted on Tumblr, just... A LOT of Andy and Quynh, it's what they deserve, it's what we deserve Words: 63518

"Just you and me." "Until the end."

Three thousand years of love, and more. All the little moments of joy, pain, adoration, and yearning. Andy and Quynh, all through history, all over the world, always in love.

Chapter 101: I'm here, at the beginning of the end, the end of infinity with you (teasing Andy for being old)

At first, Andy didn’t even think twice about it. She could be in the middle of a training session with Quynh and after landing a particularly good punch, Quynh smirked and said, “You’re getting too old, my heart” or “Age has made you slow, Andromache.” It was fine. In fact, it was good, and meant to be affectionate. She had been saying things like that in every language known to man for almost as long as the two of them had known each other. Which, really, was an eternity in itself. It was a little detail that Andy was glad to experience again after such a long separation. Their love was something capable of always growing and never changing at its core. However, little changes were unavoidable. And now that their family was bigger, it was just a matter of time before some harmless, affectionate teasing would get out of hand.

The three of them were sitting on the couch watching a movie and almost as soon as it ended Andy was out of her seat and stretching.

“Where are you going?” Quynh wondered with a slight pout.

Nile added, “We can still watch another!”

Andy scoffed, “I’m exhausted, I’m going to bed.” Without waiting for further approval she started walking toward the room she shared with Quynh.

Quynh, who wasn’t exactly happy to lose the shoulder she was comfortably leaning against during the movies. “I get it, you’re too old for this,” she called after her lover’s retreating figure. Andy shook her head fondly, and smiled because the others couldn’t see her. But there was just something about how loudly Nile laughed at that joke that just sparked a hint of worry in the older woman’s mind. She tried to ignore it, as long as she could.

--

A few days later, after a couple of minutes of lying awake in bed, Andy turned to her side and happily devoted herself to trailing feather-light kisses on Quynh’s bare shoulders to get her to wake up. Her fingertips were starting to dance in secret patterns on the soft skin of the other woman’s back, when Andy’s ministrations were interrupted by Quynh, who quickly moved so she could capture Andy’s lips with her own and give her a real good morning kiss. Though, after pulling back, she went back to lying on her stomach and said, “I know you’re old, my heart, but do you have to wake up this early?”

“Excuse me?” Andy laughed, not at the joke, precisely. But there was just something too sweet about the sight of Quynh, unable to hold back a smile, even if trying to hide her face in the pillow, but stubbornly keeping her eyes closed.

“Let me sleep!” Quynh mumbled against her pillow, and she had to bravely accept a kiss on the cheek, but she was finally granted extra time to sleep.

Still wearing a content smile on her face, Andy walked to the kitchen. She was half-way through her first cup of coffee, which she almost dropped, when Nile walked into the kitchen and without even looking Andy in the eyes said, “My grandma used to wake up before everyone else too.”

--

Soon enough, their teasing became a constant in their lives.

“I don’t get it,” Nile complained, dropping her head in a book written in Russian and groaning loudly. 

“It’s not that difficult!” Andy insisted, in perfect Russian.

Nile, assuming what she’d just said, protested, “You only say that because you’re older than the entire language.”

“That’s complicated,” Andy grumbled, still in Russian.

“No, she’s right, darling, you’re that old,” Quynh blurted out in matching Russian, with a few struggles, from her place reading a different book a few feet away on the couch.

After Nile burst out laughing, Andy looked at her with a frown, “Oh so that you understand?!”

--

Even during moments that could have been emotionally difficult, Andy was caught off guard by the ruthlessness of the women around her.

“We can’t do it, it’s too risky,” Andy insisted, about a new sketchy mission offered to them that the youngest member of the family was determined to take, “Listen, Nile…”

“What? I’ll get it when I’m older… than civilization?” Nile crossed her arms defensively, as if that could hide the hint of a smile showing in her lips.

Quynh absolutely failed to stifle a laugh. And when she received a pointed look from her wife, she returned the expression in kind and said, “Was that not the point of whatever you were about to say?”

“We are not taking this job,” Andy stated through clenched teeth, right before learning a valuable piece of information about the mission that they would, in the end, take and successfully complete.

--

“Nile!” Andy yelled, kicking open the door of their latest safe house and storming into the living room. “Nile!”

“What did she do now, and why didn’t she include me?” Quynh walked out of the kitchen with a proud grin already in place.

“Our fake identities just arrived,” Andy grumbled. “Take a look.”

Quynh hummed as she took in her hands the handful of passports Andy passed her. She glanced at them, but found nothing out of the ordinary. “What's the problem, my love? You look frighteninly pretty, as always.”

Although she was still frowning profusely, during a second, a smile broke out on Andy’s face. But then, “She did it on purpose! Look at my age!”

This time, Quynh bit her lip to hold back her smile. After taking a closer look at the passport, she looked up with a small smirk and a playfully raised eyebrow, “Fifty?”

“Fifty!” Andy exclaimed, outraged. “I’ve never been fifty! Fucking fifty! How does she dare-”

“Andromache!” Quynh was openly laughing then. “You are thousands of years old!” When her lover attempted to turn away from her in a rage, Quynh dropped the passports and quickly wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist and hugged her close. “Come on, it’s not a big deal! You don’t look a day over forty eight.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Andy scoffed, but when she turned around to kiss Quynh, there was a small smile on her face.

--

“Quynh! Please tell this crazy old woman to give me back my phone!” Nile stormed into the safe house.

She was quickly followed by Andy saying “We have rules about social media, Nile! To keep us safe.”

Quynh strolled into the living room with a smile on her face that everyone else might have assumed was patient or gentle, but Andy knew it was the kind of smile that brought trouble for her specifically. “Nile, you have to understand,” Quynh said slowly, “She’s too old for this kind of thing.”

As she finished talking, Quynh reached out to take Nile’s phone, Andy quickly blocked her attempt and laughed, “Are you serious?” It started an impressive duel where they fought for the cellphone, with Quynh coming out as the winner for being just slightly quicker, something she would probably remind Andy of for years.

“It’s just a different generation,” Quynh continued to laugh, tossing the phone over to the younger woman a second before Andy threw her arms around her.

“You’re literally older than everyone else in our family combined!” Andy protested as the two of them playfully wrestled in the middle of the living room.

“And you are twice as old as me!” Quynh replied, followed by a yelp of surprise as the love of her life lifted her up from the floor.

The two of them only stopped fighting when they noticed a flash coming from the camera of Nile’s phone. “Hm, you’re both right,” Nile smirked, quickly sending the hilarious picture to their family’s groupchat, “The two of you are ancient.”

Nile walked away from them, leaving behind two women wearing shocked expressions, though Andy was delighted, and Quynh appeared deeply betrayed. “Hey!” Quynh tried to protest, but she was happily interrupted by a kiss from Andy, who a moment later started tickling her, just to start their loving battle all over again.

[bb8sworld]

— litoreus, part i

pairing: god of the sea!obi-wan kenobi x reader

word count: 7k (*sweats nervously*)

a/n: greetings, and welcome to the first part of my new series! i don’t know how better to summarize this story than by saying that kara (@karasong) said “neptune is a dilf” then val (@milleniumvalcon) said a statue of poseidon looked like obi-wan, and it spiraled from there. so many thanks to the discord for the idea of this poseidon!obi au.

-- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ -- 

Destiny. Fate. Will. Luck. Fortune. Chance. Predestination.

Words Obi-Wan Kenobi was intimately familiar with in a multitude of different tongues, languages, dialects, and scripts. Words that have altered in connotation throughout history but have remained steadfast in their use. Words that he didn’t believe in but knew nonetheless. As someone who has been around as long as he has, and as someone who knows the inner workings of the universe and was created shortly after it’s conception, he’s aware that the ideas of Fate and Destiny were innately… human. Something clung onto by ordinary people who dwelled on the Earth and needed reassurance for an occurrence in their lives or ideas blamed for any wrongdoing that came their way.

No, Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t believe in Fate, Destiny, Fortune, or whatever other terms may be used to describe these phenomena. Everything had an order, everything had a purpose, and things didn’t happen “by chance” or “just because.” They happened because they were supposed to, not because some outside force separate from the godly beings decided to intervene. As a godly being himself, he thinks he would know if there were outside forces beyond him and his fellow gods having any say in the universe.

One of the many perks of being a god, he supposed.

Being a god was tricky business, and it was a job that often didn’t pay in kind. From his very creation, Obi-Wan had struggled with this role of his, from who he was, who he was meant to be, and how he was supposed to act.

Despite being named Obi-Wan Kenobi upon “birth,” he has gone by a plethora of different names throughout his immortal life thus far—such as Olokun, Lir, Hapi, Poseidon, Neptune, Enbilulu, and Njord, just to name a few. So many names to describe one being who ruled, guarded, and protected the seas and oceans. Each one attuned to the civilization in which the name originated from, but all converging together to describe the same god. And from it came an outpouring of love and awe. It was flattering, to say the least, that humans at one point cared so much about him that they would craft pieces of artwork dedicated to him. Or how they would construct temples of worship for him so that they might have a place to pray for safe voyages, either for themselves or loved ones. It made him feel good and loved and appreciated and a whole litany of positive affirmations that humans use to describe this gooey feeling nestled within him.

Obi-Wan loved to help humanity and had always been infatuated with them—their cultures, lifestyles, relationships, emotions, everything. And any time he helped, he got to learn a little bit more about what made humans so human. Sometimes when he did intervene in their matters and was praised for it, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it felt like to be human. To be loved, appreciated, adored, wanted.

But being a god wasn’t always so pleasant and flattering.

Sometimes, if a storm churned in the ocean and caused a shipwreck, his name would be cursed at in such hatred and despair as grief overtook the humans. It stung and was incredibly painful to hear, but unfortunately, he didn’t always have control over those situations. Whenever this happened, he would wonder if the feelings he felt were the same ones humans did in response to these occurrences—unloved, hated, disgusted, guilty, remorseful.

Obi-Wan really, truly wanted to take suffering away from the very humans who had fascinated him for centuries, but that’s not the way the universe works. Matters of life and death were not his jurisdiction, even if either of these happened in the blue waves below. It fell to the god of the underworld who was the overseer of death, so therefore Obi-Wan’s hands were tied. He only had control over the voyage's journey, not the destination of the passengers, meaning he was often forced to watch as lives were taken at sea and his name was sworn against in wrath.

But like with all things brought to the attention of humanity, people move on. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, as times changed and new beliefs gained traction, that meant humans moved on from their old ways and religions—from the other gods and from him.

Despite his presence once being well-known and called upon in times of need and worship and gratitude, his importance dwindled in the eyes of the humans until he was all but nonexistent. His very being and all his life’s work were boiled down to a name that was somehow both him yet not him, written offhandedly in a history textbook for children to be aware of for a test but to forget immediately afterward. His life became a story sometimes told in a mythology book or two, often censored and abridged for audiences to “understand better.” He became a name people were familiar with but knew little about.

And so humanity had moved on from him, but he hadn’t moved on from humanity.

He was still endlessly intrigued by everything they were about and everything they had to offer, but because of his godly status, he never dared to go down and explore for himself, despite other gods having done so for one reason or another. And every day he was a little more tempted to go down and see what was new and exciting. Every time he saw another god leave to head down, he got a little bit closer to asking if he could join.

That being said, he did stay connected where he could. Throughout all of human history, art had been made in his name, and sometimes he would clear his mind and connect to those works as he did back in the ancient days and listen in on what was being said. Sometimes he caught snippets of stories from those who stood nearby. Sometimes he heard tales of his own life being taught to a younger generation in museums. But it had been a long time since he heard anyone talk to him. And despite his lack of belief in Fate or Destiny or whatever you wanted to call it, he couldn’t help but wish for the times to change and for one person to talk to him instead of about him. He wished that someone would answer his pathetic call and just talk to him.

So imagine his surprise when one day someone picked up.

At first, he thought it to be an accident. No way had someone genuinely believed he was real and manifested the powers to protect them when they traveled at sea, nor had someone directly contacted him in years for any reason. With all the new methods of transportation and exploration in the seas and oceans, most people went on those devices willingly without saying a quick prayer to him for the waters to be safe. Which was fine, really. He knew his place. Doesn’t mean he didn’t feel a little pang of hurt every time he saw a cruise ship head out or people go boating or children learn how to canoe.

But no… this call was different. It wasn’t a history lesson, or someone singing to themselves near a statue of him, or just some background clutter. No, this one felt different. And so, Obi-Wan sat on the floor of his room, closed his eyes, and began to slip into a meditative state in order to hear the call better.

“—maybe… we hang the light a foot more to the right? And tilt it just a tiny bit backward… there. Perfect! Look at you, Poseidon—or do you prefer Neptune—whatever, it doesn’t matter. But look at you, all cleaned up, restored, illuminated, and ready to go on display when the exhibit opens tomorrow. Let’s hope the visitors appreciate you in your polished state. Are you ready?”

Ah, so a new exhibit was going up featuring, presumably, a statue of him made by one of the ancient Greeks or Romans he oversaw so many centuries ago. He was about to tune out the voice and slip out of his meditative state when the voice picked up again.

“—god I must sound crazy. Just look at me, talking to a statue of a god who doesn’t even exist.” A beat. “I wish you did though, you seem like you’d be better company than some of the other people around here. Wishful thinking, eh, Neptune? Or… Poseidon… ugh, this is what happens when it’s an ancient Greek and Roman exhibit, there are too many double names—”

And off the voice went on a tangent about finishing up illuminating each of the iconic pieces of artwork and organizing pamphlets about the new exhibit in the information stands. From the sounds of it, the person behind the voice presumably worked at some museum where a new exhibit of him and the other gods in his life was being put together.

Maybe… maybe he could go down and visit it sometime. At least to see the art he hadn’t seen in many years. And if he happened to stumble across the worker with the voice he just tuned into, then he’d consider that a happy accident despite that very claim going against his beliefs about Fate. But how could he head down from his home in the clouds without raising suspicion among the other gods? He was notorious for keeping his distance once humanity forgot him, instead preferring to observe from afar and rejecting any offers to head down to the land.

The answer came in the form of Anakin Skywalker—also known as Camulus, Svetovid, Teutates, Ares, Mars, Odin, and Montu, to name a few—the god of war and the manifestation of the spirit of battle. He was a frequent visitor of the land and was undoubtedly Obi-Wan’s best friend. Not to mention, he regularly asked Obi-Wan to join him in hopes of getting him “out of his hermit lifestyle and back to the land of the living,” to quote Anakin, but Obi-Wan had either made excuses or flat out rejected his offer. But maybe it was high time he said yes.

With his plan in mind, now all he had to do was wait for Anakin to approach him and ask. And sure enough, just a few earth days later, Anakin showed up outside of Obi-Wan’s room with a cheeky smile on his face and a “ready to be done with being a recluse?” comment as expected. And though Anakin wouldn’t ever admit it to Obi-Wan’s face, Obi-Wan could see the true concern reflecting in his eyes alongside the expectation of getting rejected. Typically, there would be a pain in his eyes following each rejection, likely stemming from the wedge that sat between them because, for all that they were best friends—brothers even—they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on godly matters. From this came the worry that always sat at the corner of every conversation because Obi-Wan (admittedly so) had been self-isolating from humanity and became a stickler for following the rules of the gods. Contrast that to Anakin who was laxer in his ways and open to embracing his feelings and attachments.

But that concern and pain would end today. Obi-Wan was tired of feeling sorry for himself and hiding away up here and being lonely despite never actually being alone.

He was ready for adventure again.

And so, it was with a resounding sigh and faked exasperation that he said, “Oh, alright.”

If he took a little pleasure in being able to cause such a shocked facial expression on Anakin’s face, then that was for him to know. Though, it was a moment later when Anakin’s face split into a wide grin that he felt any lingering doubts about going down to earth dissipate. Yes, this was the right choice. If not for himself, then for his relationship with Anakin.

The act of getting down to earth was a rather easy task consisting of exiting through a golden archway that teleported them to a location of their choosing. Obi-Wan hopped on Anakin’s coordinates and the two reappeared in a forest Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with, the lights and sounds of a nearby town being their guide on the trek.

Before stepping into the hustle and bustle of the town, Anakin and Obi-Wan had “normalized” themselves from their usual glowing, almost angelic appearance into something more humane and easily looked over, particularly nondescript and unassuming, using the powers they possessed. The less attention they brought to themselves, the better. It was safer not to risk the chance of revealing themselves. Back in historic and ancient times, it was more common for them to fall into crowds of people undercover and interact, getting to know and understand the circumstances humanity faced up close and personal instead of from a distance. But that had all changed once Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the fellow gods above all became characters in a history book.

Nonetheless, Obi-Wan treasured this one act of using his powers for fun instead of remaining dormant and simply controlling the seas in the same patterns and cycles. He looked over at Anakin, wanting to see if he was ready to head into the streets, when he was surprised to see Anakin’s eyes already looking his way, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, exasperation smothering the very word, “What is it?”

“Finally decided on getting a haircut?” Anakin replied, laughter playing on the edge of the question. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the question. Yes, usually when he came down to earth he sported a longer hairstyle—a godly mullet, as Anakin oh so lovingly called it, business in the front and the only fun you know how to have in the back—but times had changed, and Obi-Wan had figured it was time for him to as well, at least a little bit. So he did. It was less of a haircut and more of the decision to manifest with shorter hair, unlike a certain someone standing next to him who had apparently decided the opposite.

“Strong words coming from someone who’s sporting a mullet themselves,” he quipped back, turning his attention forward and beginning the trek to the town. Affronted was the only word to describe how Anakin reacted, cemented in his shock, before he shook out of his state and rushed to catch up with his friend, secretly happy to see Obi-Wan engaging in their familiar back-and-forth.

“It is not a mullet, Obi-Wan,” Anakin refuted. “It’s stylish and helps me blend in.”

Obi-Wan gives a quiet hmm in acknowledgment before replying, “Whatever you say, Anakin.”

And so the trek continued until they found themselves in a bustling town with car horns honking, people shoving themselves through crowds, and bright lights illuminating around them. It was both entirely overwhelming yet hauntingly intriguing. For as much as he wanted to look away from the circus before him, Obi-Wan couldn’t stop admiring and absorbing all the information thrown at him. Of course he was aware of how the earth and humanity had progressed from his perch in the clouds, but while it’s one thing to hear and know of something, it’s another thing to witness and experience that which you had heard so much about.

Through his daze, he’s just barely able to keep up with Anakin as they take to the sidewalks, Anakin walking in an apparent familiar cadence as if he already knows where he’s heading and knows the trek well. Perhaps there’s a destination Anakin frequents on his jaunts down to earth? Maybe Obi-Wan should’ve asked what Anakin had in mind before he agreed to this excursion, but it’s too little too late for that now. But still, asking the destination of their slightly fast walking couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know, Anakin,” he starts, “You never told me where you were intending for us to go today.”

“Oh,” Anakin flounders for a moment, as if not expecting the question. Curious. “I, uh, well I figured we’d go to the local art museum.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan is unconvinced, but plays along anyway, only the slightest bit of suspicion seeping into his tone.

“Well… I know you love learning and appreciating the more—how do you phrase it?—refined and civilized things in life,” Anakin jokes, “So I figured we could go to an art museum together.”

Well wasn’t that just the shock of the century. Art museums were far from Anakin’s usual environment. Why? Anakin was loud, brash, and impulsive, constantly itching to go out and meet action head-on, act now think later, a complete contrast to the usually quiet, serene, and contemplative nature that art museums held dear. And for all that Obi-Wan loved Anakin, there were certain environments he would never dare to be with him, art museums being one of them. But, considering Obi-Wan had agreed to join and Anakin actually seemed somewhat eager to go, he figured he could indulge Anakin just this once.

Besides, Obi-Wan figured there must’ve been some ulterior motive at play here, and if he played his cards right, he could figure it out.

“An art museum?” he asks casually, hoping maybe he’ll get a hint of this mysterious motive.

But Anakin immediately picks up on the slight curiosity in his words. “Yeah, why? You don’t want to go?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind going, I just didn’t know you’d be interested in that.”

“Well, people change, Obi-Wan. Maybe I’ve taken a page from your book and learned how to be stuffy and grandfatherly.”

Rude, Obi-Wan muses, but an unlikely story. He leaves it at that and instead asks Anakin what else he had on the itinerary for the day as they walk toward the museum. Apparently, the art museum is the highlight of the day, though Anakin does promise that if Obi-Wan would be open to indulging in human food—something that honestly means nothing to them because they can’t be satisfied on non-godly food—there’s a cafe not too far from the museum that they can hang out and people watch at. All-in-all, not a bad day. Could’ve been way worse given how differently he and Anakin define “a fun day out.”

Eventually, they do make it to the art museum in one piece, and Obi-Wan immediately takes note of how quaint it looks against the glamour of the surrounding town. Less bright colors and flashes of light on the exterior but still a commanding presence with its masonry that almost demands you to look at it and compels you to go inside.

They stand in the queue to get tickets and go inside, but once they do, Anakin starts walking off before Obi-Wan can even grab a map of the museum. He manages to snag one and just barely finds Anakin in the crowd of the entry foyer, leaving Obi-Wan to trail behind a couple of feet once he catches up as Anakin guides him to the Medieval and Renaissance art exhibit. They’re only a few feet inside the exhibit when someone calls out “Ani!” and the two whip their heads around in-sync to the sound of the voice, a chorus of shushing surrounding them.

It’s a short woman who approaches the pair, a charming smile on her lips and a glint in her eyes. She immediately goes to embrace Anakin and Obi-Wan thinks: ah, ulterior motive discovered. He looks at her professional attire, the low but elegant bun her brown hair is in, and the name tag he just barely caught a glimpse of and easily deduces that she must be a staff member here. Maybe once the two finally release each other Obi-Wan can say his greetings and find out more.

Luckily, she seems to be the sensible one between the two and releases Anakin after making eye contact with Obi-Wan, as if just now realizing that Anakin came with company. She tries to be blasé about the overly friendly interaction with Anakin by plowing forward in her introduction, holding her hand out for a handshake. Very interesting, indeed.

“I’m Padmé Amidala, one of the curators for this exhibit in the museum. You must be one of Anakin’s friends,” she greets. Obi-Wan takes her hand and gives it a slight shake. Her grip is firm but not tight, giving just enough of her away for him to understand that she is a person to be respected and in awe of but not feared. It’s easy to begin understanding how her dynamic with Anakin works.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Oh, so you’re the famous Obi-Wan. Anakin has told me so much about you.” Obi-Wan gives a side-eyed glance to Anakin, noting the innocent expression he wears and wondering just how much he’s revealed to Padmé.

“Interesting, he hasn’t mentioned you at all,” Obi-Wan responds, giving them both a teasing smile in some semblance of reassurance that he isn’t offended by this fact.

However, Obi-Wan can feel the lingering hesitation and slight nerves radiating off of Anakin, which is an unsurprising development. Gods aren’t meant to have deep bonds with humans. Loose friendships are typically accepted with only slight frowns, but once it strays into a tight-knit bond and attachments form, especially romantic ones, they’re frowned upon greatly. And between the two of them, Anakin is less of a stickler for the rules, instead preferring to live by his own interpretations and caveats to the rules—which means Obi-Wan knows that Anakin fears this friendship of his with Padmé will be scrutinized and berated.

Which… okay, is a valid concern considering Obi-Wan’s devotion to the rules, but Obi-Wan hates to be a snitch on his best friend. And as long as he doesn’t witness any actions that would confirm a more serious relationship, particularly romantic, Obi-Wan is willing to turn his eye to the obvious heart eyes and lingering touches the two share. Can’t tattle if there’s room for doubt and question.

He just hopes Anakin knows this himself. And he especially hopes that Anakin hasn’t told Padmé that he’s a god.

He decides to shake off these thoughts and turn the conversation to safer territory to try and ease Anakin some. “So, Padmé, I take it you work here. What is it that you do?”

Immense relief hits him like a tidal wave from Anakin with happiness trailing behind like seafoam as the wave recedes. Not wanting to make any open comments about Anakin’s feelings and potentially clue Padmé into their more than human nature, he settles for a quick moment of eye contact before focusing back on Padmé.

“I’m one of the museum curators here,” she confirms, “I mainly specialize with art in the Medieval and Renaissance exhibit as well as our Impressionist pieces.” She pauses to size him up, silently scrutinizing him and his reactions. Whatever it is she finds must satisfy her, because she continues as if nothing happened, “Have you been here before, Obi-Wan? We recently got some new pieces on loan from some collectors and other museums that are worth checking out.”

“This is my first time, actually,” Obi-Wan starts before Anakin jumps in, quick on his verbal heels, “Right! And I was going to show him around. Make sure he visits the highlights at least.”

Instantly Padmé’s face drops ever so slightly at the idea of this conversation ending and her parting from Anakin, but she composes herself well. But Obi-Wan would be blind not to notice Anakin’s disappointment too, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and says, “Though I’m more than capable of wandering on my own if you’d rather stay and chat with Padmé, Anakin.”

“Are you sure, Obi-Wan? I was the one who invited you out after all—”

“Nonsense, I’ll be more than fine on my own. Maybe then I’ll actually get to appreciate the art and read the descriptions like the grandfather you think I am,” he jokes. “I’ll meet you back by the entrance in a couple hours. Pleasure meeting you, Padmé, I hope we meet again soon.”

And just like that, Obi-Wan is off and he no longer has to be surrounded by the obvious desire for something more between the two that was only stifled from being acted on by his presence. When he’s a good distance away, he decides to stop for a moment and actually look at the map in his hand, and he’s pleasantly surprised by just how many exhibits, art movements, and cultural regions are housed in this art museum. With the knowledge that he may not be able to knock out every exhibit in one visit, he decides to make his rounds to the ones that intrigue him the most. 

He starts in the African Art section, admiring the ceramics and textiles created in various regions of Africa, before moving onto the Chinese bronzes, ceramics, and jades exhibition and it’s next-door Japanese screens and paintings exhibit. He’s thinking of swinging to modern and contemporary works when he looks at the map in his hands and eyes the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit, reluctance setting in. Obi-Wan always feels a bit of hesitancy whenever admiring ancient creations because he remembers who the artists were and that fact makes him feel old and worn down in ways he never expected gods to feel like. Besides, wouldn’t it be narcissistic of himself to go and admire the times of old and perhaps even stumble upon a work of him?

Caution thrown to the wind, Obi-Wan decides to make his way to the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit. With his head held high, he spots the tall glass doors to the exhibit and opens them slowly before stepping inside and almost immediately being hit by a whirlpool of nostalgia. Just seeing the vases, plates, coins, cups, relics, and statues on display make him nearly stumble on his feet. The faces staring back at him on the head busts by the entrance are so eerily similar to those of his friends that he feels his breathing stutter for a moment. It’s true that back in those times the gods were more… open to visiting earth. Back then they were more willing and able to interact with humanity and be treated kindly in return. Though, the stories of their escapades and interactions always seemed to be skewed and embellished among all civilizations.

But one thing that transpires over almost every civilization who ever believed in the gods and goddess that Obi-Wan is connected to is that they managed to nail one key feature of the gods in their stories: their extremities. Because at the end of the day, that’s what the gods all were—the best and worst of humanity, but maximized.

Obi-Wan prefers not to think about that fact and how, subsequently, he feels more than humans do and also has an awareness for the feelings of the other gods.

No, best not to dwell on that.

He decides that perhaps it’s best to move beyond the entryway and stop clogging up the doorway with his presence, so he begins to move through the exhibit, stopping every now and then to admire a certain work of art. By the time he’s gone through about half the exhibit, the sting of seeing those he knows etched onto bronze or marble is hurting less; he’s thinking he can finally start to appreciate the art more when he hears a voice.

But it’s not just any voice, it’s a voice he recognizes. And it’s not Anakin, nor is it Padmé. It’s a voice he’s heard before but he doesn’t know the person it belongs to. It’s familiar enough that he clings to it, scrambling through past and recent memories until finally it clicks:

The voice he’s hearing is the voice that recently talked to him via one of the statues commemorated in his honor.

And just like that, he turns his head around and begins to look around for the source. It’s like he’s a ship lost at sea and this voice is his guiding light home, if only he could find it. It takes a couple more seconds before finally his gaze settles on you, and it’s as if sunlight just burst into the room. He notices your eyes first and the way they shimmer with happiness as you wander through the exhibit, admiring the artworks yourself. But then he catches your smile as you turn to talk to one of the nearby patrons and the very sight of it makes him feel as if the world has just opened wide, opportunities he’s never considered laying out on many paths before him.

He takes a moment to shake himself out of his daze to properly take in your appearance. Judging on your outfit and the name tag that he just barely can’t make out and read, you are obviously a worker here, perhaps a curator like Padmé. You’re wandering the exhibit with an air of pride surrounding you, as if you’re happy that so many people are taking the time to come and appreciate the art before them. Everything about you is intriguing and he wants to introduce himself to you before this high feeling surrounding him comes crashing down and he goes back up to the clouds to spend out his immortal days alone and separated again from humanity.

Just as he’s about to take a few steps in your direction, he feels a harsh force of another body hit him in the side, nearly sending him toppling over onto a head bust next to him. He’s bracing for impact, praying that this piece of art somehow is a counterfeit and doesn’t cost more than he can even fathom (seriously, exactly how bad is inflation right now?) when he feels hands on his shoulders that push him back onto his feet. His hands immediately latch onto the ones grabbing him as he steadies himself. One he’s back on solid ground, he looks up to go thank whoever caught him when his heart leaps to his throat and he momentarily stops breathing because who else would be his savior than his guiding light?

He barely has time to even admire your speed and strength before you’re talking to him.

“Are you okay?” you ask and oh how he wants to hear more and more and more of your angelic voice. It’s as if you’re a siren, tempting him closer and closer to you until finally he is caught in your eyes and dancing among the many stars that twinkle in them. But suddenly he flushes with the realization that he’s been staring way too long and oh dear this is quite a messy first impression he really needs to redeem himself with something coherent and get this boat sailing back on course—

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Never better, truly.” Shipwreck. What an utter shipwreck this is for him. Maker, he’s making a fool of himself. Amid his internal despair, he hears you giggle at his fumbling and his heart starts beating faster.

“Poseidon right?”

And suddenly his heart stops, his mouth drops every so slightly, and his face whitens. How have you possibly figured him out so quickly?

“What?” Is about all he can muster in response.

“Or Neptune, I guess, depending on which you prefer.” He’s silent. Awestruck. But you must pick up on the confusion and awe on his face because you elaborate, “You know… the sculpture right over there? The big marble one with a man holding a trident? The one you were staring at before you nearly crashed into this poor head bust of Zeus and broke this priceless piece of historic artwork? Really, what did the poor guy ever do to you? Surely he doesn’t deserve his head getting cracked open a second time.”

Oh thank the Maker, you were just referring to the art in the room. Which perhaps he should’ve accounted for instead of internally freaking out because he did willingly enter the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit of the museum.

But you take his silent relief as continued confusion because you are suddenly rambling, “You know, because Zeus already had his head cracked open once by Hephaestus after Zeus swallowed a pregnant Metis and gave birth to Athena through his forehead?” You laugh awkwardly before plowing on, “Maybe I should stop talking now, sorry, sometimes I just go off about all these old myths, I just think they’re fascinating and—sorry, I’m doing it again aren’t I?”

He laughs in response to your weak joke and hearty explanation, and he starts to feel a little less wound up and nervous when he notices that you’re feeling the same way.

“No, no, it’s alright! It was very clever. Funny too,” he comments. The two of you share a smile and simply stare into each others’ eyes for a couple moments. But then he begins to worry that he’s making you uncomfortable by maintaining eye contact for longer than normal—except what is “normal”? How much has human etiquette changed since he’d last been on earth? Is this conversation already doomed? He decides to take the gamble anyway and clears his throat as his eyes flicker around the exhibit, trying to think of what else to say to you, before he lands on your name tag (what a pretty name you have) and he says the first thought that comes to mind.

“So, you work here then?” Not the best conversation starter, but it’s something, he supposes. Maker, what is wrong with him? He’s never been so nervous in his entire immortal life, but one conversation with you and suddenly he’s falling victim to all the nerves and anxieties of humans, but dialed up beyond a 10. Gods really are the maximization of humanity’s best and worst. What an awful time to be living this fact. Thankfully, you respond and break him out of his spiraling worries.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been working here for the past couple of years as one of the curators. I actually worked on this exhibit. I helped organize and select all the pieces in the exhibit, arrange restorations and displays, and record all the art you see here. I’ll admit it’s rather hard selecting which art pieces would fit best with the message we’re trying to convey, not to mention the availability of many pieces of art also plays a difficult role, but I like to think it paid off in the end. There’s something special about all the pieces of art here,” you suddenly pause in your speech before walking over to the very Poseidon statue you thought Obi-Wan had been looking at earlier, and he follows, quick on your heels.

You continue, “Like, this statue of Poseidon, for example. It traveled through an ocean of time, across several continents, through several restorations, all to be right here, right now, in this very moment for you and I to admire.” You let out a sigh that Obi-Wan can only describe as wistful. “I can only wonder how it looked when the artist was creating it and when it was first unveiled.”

He wishes how he could tell you about when he first laid eyes on this statue of himself he had nearly burst into tears, sending a light rain over the agora from the intensity of his emotions. But he suppresses the urge. He wasn’t supposed to reveal himself to humanity, and even if he did let something slip, what are the odds that you’d ever believe him? The two of you are not close, and you never will be. His livelihood as a god forbids it.

Still…

There’s something about the sparkle in your eye as you wistfully look at the art, as if looking at it for the first time despite having seen it countless times before, and your passion for the ancient classics that he finds compelling. Initial literal-sweeping-off-his-feet encounter aside, there’s something about you that draws him to you.

You’re entirely intriguing to him, and he can’t quite pinpoint why. Not entirely, at least. It doesn’t hurt that he finds your ramblings of history and art to be adorable. Not that he’s admitting to anything more than simple infatuation at first sight. He wishes he had the chance to get to know you better beyond the confines of this Ancient Greek and Roman exhibit. But the two of you lead entirely different lives and he has to let this go.

But, he can allow himself this one instance of normal human interaction.

“I’m sure it must have been a sight to behold given how important the gods were to the Ancient Greeks and Romans,” he comments.

“Exactly!” Despite being a curator here and knowing the rules of the exhibits like the back of your hand, you are shushed by a nearby patron at your happy exclamation. Obi-Wan laughs softly at the embarrassed look on your face.

“Guess that’s my cue to switch topics,” you joke. Obi-Wan smiles kindly at you before you continue, “Basics then. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it,” he winks at your unimpressed look. Luckily for him though, it cracks and transforms into a brilliant smile as the two of you share a laugh. No harm done.

“Okay, smartass, I’ll rephrase: what’s your name?” you ask. “Not all of us are lucky enough to talk with people who wear name tags.”

“Alright then, since you asked so nicely, I’m Obi-Wan. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out a hand for you, which you easily take and give a shake. A slight zing runs through his body at the slight contact, his hand still buzzing even after you two let go.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. Is this your first time here?” you inquire.

“Ah, yes, my friend decided to take me,” Obi-Wan starts, but he can’t help but grumble out, “I think he’s a frequent visitor.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpy tone. “You make it seem as if that’s a bad thing. Surely it’s not that god-awful here?”

“The company sure makes it better,” slips out before he can catch the words, but he’s not blind to the pleased look on your face. Huh. Interesting. “I never thought he was interested in art museums but—”

“Obi-Wan!” Cuts through the air, loud and brash and diluted with the slightest hint of concern, immediately followed by shushing by other patrons. Obi-Wan sighs as he recognizes the voice of Anakin.

“—it would appear that he still hasn’t picked up on museum etiquette despite all those visits.”

You rub his arm gently, a look of playful sympathy on your face as you tell him, “How awful it must be to have a friend that cares about your whereabouts.”

But he’s suddenly finding it very hard to even pretend to be annoyed when you’re touching him with such care. All too soon, your hand is off his arm as Anakin makes himself known, sidling up right to Obi-Wan and immediately grasping his elbow.

“Where on earth were you? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago. I waited for you! And here I was thinking you were the responsible one—” Anakin is cut off by you attempting to diffuse the situation.

“I believe that’s my fault. I kept him here talking to me and I held him up,” you turn back to Obi-Wan, a bright smile on your lips and the stars twinkling once more in your eyes. Maker, if he didn’t know any better he really would think he was looking at the sun, his beacon of light. “It was lovely talking to you, Obi-Wan. Maybe you could come again soon and we can continue this conversation?”

“Of course.” It’s his automatic response, no thoughts, questions, or worries in mind. You just look so hopeful and he’s once again a ship in the night, setting out to sail the high seas but hoping to return to again safely, guided by your light. He can only hope Anakin doesn’t pick up on his infatuation with you.

“Great! I’ll let you two go then. Nice meeting you!” And just like the wind, you’re gone, moving on to other patrons and other works of art, sharing your knowledge and stories and passion with other lucky souls. Maybe he will come back.

“They seemed nice,” Anakin remarks with absolutely no subtly.

“I’m not sure what you think happened between us, but whatever it is, you’re wrong,” and with that Obi-Wan turns and begins walking out of the exhibit before Anakin can refute or comment on Obi-Wan’s building anxiety, giving him no choice but to follow.

The walk out of the museum, their time sitting and people watching at a nearby cafe, and the walk back to the forested area follow a similar pattern: Anakin trying to do some digging with heavy insinuations, Obi-Wan denying vehemently any theories and offering scant details, and neither one willing to back down from their stance. It’s an old familiar rhythm, and despite it being grating at times, it’s nice to feel a sense of normalcy with Anakin once more.

Eventually, they make it back up to their hidden sanctuary in the sky and part ways for the day. Once back in his dwelling, Obi-Wan sits down on a cushioned chair and mulls over his day. While going to the museum was fun and enlightening, his mind wanders back to a certain museum curator. The dark horse of the day. The unexpected detail. His beacon of light.

There’s something more to you, something he wants so desperately to know. He practically itches to go back to the museum and keep talking with you. You’re intelligent, beautiful, and humorous. You’re the sun, moon, and stars. He knows he can’t pursue a romantic relationship with you, and he knows friendships with humans are frowned upon if they get too close, but he reasons to himself that one more visit down to earth to speak with you wouldn’t hurt anyone. With this in mind, he closes his eyes and begins to reach out to see if he can hear you once again, but as he’s doing so, a realization dawns on him.

Meeting you is the closest he’s come to believing in Fate, and despite this going against his beliefs, he’s ready to set sail on this unknown voyage and see where your next meeting takes him.

[bubblesuga]

By My Side

Summary|| Kim Namjoon- Teacher’s Assistant, Sex God, and the last thing you expected to have in your mouth. Name or otherwise. When Namjoon offers to tutor you, you couldn’t pass up that offer even though he didn’t give you much of a choice. 

Word Count: 8,892

Warnings: smut, fluff, and everything in between

Part 3 of my College!AU series

Astrophysics wasn’t top of your list on things to minor in. 

You could have chosen Literature, Creative Writing, hell you would have even been happy in Art. However, you took Astrophysics. Of all fucking things. 

For a while you wanted to drop the class, change your minor or just solely try to focus on your major which was Business Marketing. You hear you have a higher chance of obtaining a job in that field anyway, and you got a real ass chewing from your friend when they found out you signed up for Astrophysics. 

The problem was that the day you planned on dropping the course, Kim Namjoon of all people convinced you not to. 

It’s not like you had a reason to listen to him, and he wasn’t talking directly to you but instead offered his reasons to the class as to why he stuck through it and decided to become a TA the following year. He loved space that much. 

So now, every time you walked into the lecture room you couldn’t help but look to see if Mr. TA was at the front of the class. 

The thing about Namjoon was that he was smart, beyond what you believed anyone could be at your age and although he was only a little older than you, you still felt like he had the knowledge of the entire universe in the palm of his hand. 

You suddenly became much more interested in Astrophysics after that. 

“...and that makes a bit of you as old as time. While the heavier bits in your body were formed in the hearts of stars, the hydrogen in your body was formed a mere three minutes after the initial Big Bang,” you professor spoke, your pen scrawling across the paper, “but the protons in your body was made a millionth of a second after the Big Bang. Some of the protons that formed in the earliest parts of the universe, are in you today.” 

As he continued to speak, you watched Namjoon with a red pen, marking various papers. He gnawed on his nails, then looked up, sensing his eyes on you. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat quietly and looking down at your paper.

Your professor glanced up to the clock, “Okay. I want to go home early today so get out of my classroom please. Everyone except for Miss. (Y/L/N).” 

Confused, you stayed seated while you watched everyone else pack up and walk out of the classroom. The professor made his way up to your seat, sitting on the desk with a sigh. “So, I really don’t want to have to fail you. Your last two terms showed 67% on both of your finals.” 

“U-uhm, yeah I’ve been struggling a little bit.” You noticed Namjoon watching you, his eyes peaking softly out from his glasses. His hair was done so well, gelled up with the lilac color framing his face nicely. 

“Do you want to be in this class? Because I’d rather you drop it if you feel like it’s a waste of your time.” The professor came off harsh, but you knew his intentions were kind. 

“No! I love this class! I’ll work harder, I’m so sorry. I promise by the end of this term I’ll give you an A.” You explained, your voice coming off both apologetic and defensive at the same time. 

“Okay, I’m looking forward to giving you that A then. You may go.” 

You stood abruptly, trying to ignore the embarrassment you felt from Namjoon hearing that conversation. He didn’t seem to react to the things the professor said, and you were sure that he was used to hearing conversations like these but that didn’t take away your embarrassment nonetheless. 

As you were about to walk out, you heard your name. When you turned around, Namjoon was stood from his desk. 

“You know, I could tutor you if you want.” His hands gestured picking up and dropping the pen on the table. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was nervous. 

“Oh, no thanks. I can’t afford a tutor.” You gave him a sheepish smile, shrugging and slipping your arms through the straps of your back pack. Mostly filled with math text books, you felt the weight take an immediately shift on your shoulders. 

Namjoon returned the smile, “I’ll do it for free.” 

“Really?” Your eyes went wide, “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have a busy enough schedule as it is.” 

“Not really, I’m ahead in all of my classes. I think by the time I have to start worrying about them again I can have you up to par in here.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

You pondered for a moment, wondering if it was really worth it to have the hottest guy you had ever seen tutoring you in a subject you had no idea about. He seemed to notice your ponder, chuckling softly. 

“I don’t bite.” 

Finally, you nodded. “Okay, when?” 

“I’m free right now.” He picked up his things, walking towards you. You allowed him to pass you, leading you out of the doors. He stopped walking in the center of the grass in front of the science building. Plopping down, he waited for you to sit. 

You raised an eyebrow, the grassy area shaded just well enough with trees but the warmth of the sun still hitting your skin. The grass was damp underneath your mostly bare legs, your shorts short enough for you to have to sit on your feet otherwise you would have a flashing situation that you really didn’t want to have to deal with. 

“Okay so the main test you need to worry about is the General Exam. A lot of the questions are on ancient science, more specifically how the Greeks began the human ascent into our knowledge of the stars and space itself.” Namjoon began, and already you felt your brain being clouded over with blank thoughts. 

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to follow along to the best of your ability. 

“How did the Greeks determine the size of the Earth?” 

You stared at him, your eye twitching while you dug around your brain for the answer. You knew the answer was there somewhere, so you open your notebook and flip through the notes from last week. 

“Uhm... They waited until a lunar eclipse and measured the shadow that the Earth cast on the moon.” The tip of your pen clicked against the notebook. Namjoon met your eyes, kindness lacing them while his eyebrow raised. He genuinely wanted to help you, and you prayed you didn’t become too enchanted by the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Correct. What did they study specifically though?” 

You stared down at your notes again, “The diameter of Earth’s conical shadow, which they found that shadow’s diameter was about two and a half times the moon’s diameter.” 

“Good again.” Namjoon said, encouraging you while he continued to ask you questions. 

When it got to parts that were particularly hard to remember, he was patient while you sifted through your notes and textbooks to find the answer. Although your conversation with him previously was limited to asking him for a pencil, you found yourself comfortable with him quickly. 

Namjoon finally reached into his bag, pulling out an older textbook and opening it to a bookmarked page. Carefully, he explained Maxwell’s equations as if he was born to teach. You admired his intelligence, seeing a blush grow on his face once he noticed that you weren’t looking at where his finger’s were pointing on the page. 

“Uh, (Y/N)? Focus.” He snapped in your face, breaking you out of your trance and causing you to flip your eyes down to the paper. 

“S- sorry. You just have cute dimples.” As the words left your mouth you wanted desperately to swallow them back up and then sink into the ground in embarrassment. 

You expect him to laugh, but you didn’t expect him to laugh this hard. 

“H- holy shit, that was out of nowhere!” He hollered, clutching his stomach as he fell back into the tall grass. People around you two were beginning to stare, each holding a smirk of their own while you covered your face and fell backward into the grass yourself. 

Still laughing, he uttered his next sentence, “I mean, I knew you liked me but damn. I thought I would have to work you a little longer to get you to admit it.” 

“What?” You pulled yourself onto your elbows, staring at him with a gaunt expression, “who said I liked you? I just said you have cute dimples! I say that to everyone who has dimples!” 

“Don’t bullshit yourself, babe. I see the way you stare at me in class, you can’t deny it. Especially with how obvious you are about it.” He rolled his eyes, his laughter finally calming down while he reopened his book. 

“Whatever. Just tutor me.” Your voice came out in a growl, grabbing your pencil. Namjoon’s dimples deepened, deciding not to press the issue any further as he noticed your. . . agitation? Embarrassment? He couldn’t tell exactly. 

~*~*~

“Joon!” Namjoon’s head whipped towards the direction of his name, spotting Taehyung running towards him in his apron. Blue paint dripped from the ends of his hair, a trail of different colors in his wake while he rushed towards Namjoon. 

“What happened to you?” He couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Taehyung’s usually bright demeanor had been replaced with one of annoyance. 

“She happened!” Taehyung cried out, pointing to a girl across the campus yard with equally bright amounts of orange paint on her. She shot a middle finger his way and turned towards the girl’s dance hall. 

He turned back to Namjoon, “Can I shower at your place? I really don’t want to walk all the way to mine.” 

“Uh, yeah. I’ll give you my key, I’ve got a date.” Namjoon said, pulling out his keys and slipping his house key off the key ring. He dropped it into Taehyung’s red colored hands, sighing and rubbing his face from annoyance once he realized the apartment would be messy when he got home. 

“A date, huh?” 

“Well not really,” Namjoon and Taehyung walked somewhat briskly, ignoring the stares of passerby, “I’m tutoring her, but she likes me.” 

“And you like her?” Taehyung, ever so curious, walked passed the turn to Namjoon’s apartment to get an answer. 

“Go get cleaned up before the Dean spots you.” Namjoon turned back with a smirk, watching his younger friend roll his eyes. His shoes squelched as he walked, signaling the paint had made it’s way down into his socks. 

After the first tutoring session ended, Namjoon was sure to set up the next. Then the next, then the next. He found your reluctance to continue with tutoring sessions after he called your crush out somewhat cute. 

He had yet to bring it up again, instead opting to watch you while you drank way more water than you needed and stared at his lips while he explained formulas. Whether you believed it or not, he did intend on teaching you what you needed to know to pass the class. He knew you were absorbing the information, so he didn’t necessarily mind when he saw you licking your lips subconsciously while he slipped his jacket off his broad shoulders. 

Nonetheless, he felt that you were doing well. 

As far as class went, both of you always seemed to know when to look at each other. The professor would be droning on about topics that you and Namjoon had already covered, so you rested your head on the desk. Namjoon would mouth words to you, usually ‘pay attention’, but you knew he was always making sure you were okay. 

One particular class, Namjoon tapped his leg impatiently while he waited for you to enter the room. His favorite part of the day was seeing what you were wearing, because everything you wore seemed to compliment your shape in the best way. Not that he didn’t look before, but now that he knows you on a bit more personal level, he didn’t constantly tell himself it was wrong to look. 

When you finally did enter the room, your tight leggings and red heels made you look like a goddess. After that, his feelings were set in stone.

His plan today was to tutor you, as always, but then he wanted to make you feel good. After having spent so much time with you over the past couple weeks, he saw your personality blossom and suddenly he liked more than just your body. As he got to know you, he wanted you. More and more. 

He just had to make you beg for it. 

Namjoon knocked on your door, hearing squealing from behind the thick metal. A girl he didn’t recognize opened the door, leaning against the door frame. “Well hello there, I’ve heard so much about-” 

Just as she was about to finish her sentence, your hands snaked up from behind her and covered her mouth, yanking her backward and away from the door. 

“You said you’re leaving, Tamara. So leave.” You gestured, pointing out the door. Namjoon slid to the side, seeing her friend leave while sending a wink his way. He chuckled, waiting for you to invite him in. 

Your house was small, quaint, and old. It felt like you, though. Namjoon could tell you decorated, bits and pieces of things he learned you liked scattered throughout each room. 

He took a moment to look around while you told him to sit at the table, his finger running along the pictures on the walls. When you reentered the room, your hair was now pulled up and the bright blue fluffy pajama pants donned on your waist with a black tank top. 

“Sorry, it’s my house and I hate not wearing comfortable clothes in it.” You explained, crossing your leg and sitting on the chair across from him. 

You knew what Namjoon was playing at. After your third tutoring session, you noticed he became increasingly. . . sexy. Not that he wasn’t sexy before because you couldn’t deny your attraction, but the shirts became tighter, the hair was always styled, and his smirk. That damn smirk.

It was there, on his face. All the time. It was driving you absolutely insane. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and everything he said was so smart. 

Namjoon saw your wardrobe change, ignoring your skin peaking out from your tank top. “I can’t fault you for wanting to be comfortable.” He finally manages. 

You two got right to work, your eyes reading the numbers on the page. Namjoon leaned on the table, getting right into tutor mode and explaining a book he read that helped him understand advanced equations. 

You wrote down the book name, rubbing your forehead to get rid of your headache. Despite finally beginning to understand everything, your head still hurt at the prospect of taking the test in a few weeks. 

A couple hours later, your notebook was officially full. You tossed the pen onto the table, stretching your arms, “Yay! Done for the day!” 

Namjoon shut his own book, “I think we’re done forever.” 

“What?” You suddenly began to panic, did you do something to scare him away? Sure offering for him to tutor at your house was nerve-racking, but you didn’t think that he wouldn’t like it. 

“We’ve covered pretty much everything on the test. All you have to do is remember what I taught you, and then you’ll be good.” Namjoon stood, sliding his books haphazardly into his back pack. He slung it over his shoulder, giving you that same dimpled smile you had grown to love. 

“Wait- I know everything?” 

“Well not everything, but enough,” He grinned, “I’ll see you in class, (Y/N).” 

Namjoon turned to walk away and suddenly he was paranoid. He wanted you to call after him, to stop him and tell him to stay. However, as he made it closer to the door and began to slip his shoes on, he still hadn’t heard your call. 

He paused for a moment, a sigh leaving his lips while he turned his back and squeezed the doorknob in his hands. 

“Wait!” 

There you were.

“Let me make you dinner! You know, as a thanks for teaching me so well.” You said, coming into view. Namjoon turned around, “Dinner?” 

“Yes! I- I have steak that I was saving for Friday but I could make it now.” Your words became quieter as your spoke, your hand rubbing your arm nervously. There was no way that you wanted him to leave yet, and you weren’t sure how else to thank him. 

“I like steak.” Namjoon said, slipping his shoes back off and laying his back pack on the recliner beside the door. You grinned, letting out a nervous laugh, beckoning him into the living room. 

“Make yourself comfy and I’ll cook for you.” 

“Why don’t I help you?” Namjoon offered, following you while you walked out. You tilted your head to the side, “You can cook?” 

Namjoon, for the first time in a while, felt a blush creep on his cheek. The way you looked up at him, expectant and suddenly excited, made his head spin. He actually had to admit something that he couldn’t do to someone who he was trying to impress, “I didn’t say I could cook. I said I would help.” 

You giggled, “I’ll have you toss the salad.” 

“I like the sound of that.” Namjoon teased, following you into the kitchen. You began to prep everything, Namjoon watching in awe while you moved around the kitchen with ease. 

After setting a pan onto the open flame, you turned and connected your phone to the speaker and flipped on your cooking playlist. Namjoon, impressed with your taste in music, continued to watch you as you started dancing along to the beat. 

The sear of the steak against the hot pan was a welcoming sound, Namjoon’s mouth suddenly watering as he saw you toss butter and thyme into the pan. Your voice sang along with the song, your movements fluid. 

“You have a beautiful voice!” Namjoon called over the music, watching your face turn red. He sat on the other side of the island, waiting patiently for instruction. As the steaks cooked, you reached into the fridge and pulled out a head of lettuce, setting it down in front of Namjoon and rummaging through the lower cabinet for a bowl. 

Namjoon leaned over the counter, admiring your curves as your back peaked out from your tank top. The shirt you wore hugged you perfectly, he could see your heart-shaped ass squeezed into your pajama pants. Once he saw you stand up, he sat back down quickly but over corrected and managed to slip right off the stool. 

With a loud crash, he toppled over the stool beside him and let out a groan. 

“Are you okay?” You yelled, pausing your music and rushing around the counter. Namjoon’s eyes were shut tight, “I’m good.” 

“What were you doing?” You question, reaching your hand out. His large hand dwarfed yours, and you knew you weren’t any help to pull him up but you still tugged on his arm nonetheless. 

He smiled sheepishly, “I was just trying to see what kind of bowl you were grabbing.” 

“Oh?” you watched him dust himself off, “why are you so interested in bowls?” 

“More like the girl who was holding the bowl.” 

“I knew you weren’t tutoring me just to help me,” you roll your eyes, the feeling you had in the pit of your stomach finally coming true, “so is making you steak a dumb idea? Would you prefer I suck your dick as thanks?” 

Namjoon was somewhat shocked by your cool tone, watching you flip the steaks and almost cringing at the loud searing returning. Although he liked the words that came out of your mouth, he would have preferred if it came out in a moan. Something about the way you refused to look him in the eye caused him to swallow nervously. 

“N- no, I didn’t expect an extravagant thanks. The steaks will be fine.” He explained, sighing softly and allowing his face to fall into his hands. 

Silence fell over the two of you, Namjoon suddenly missing the blaring music that filled his ears 10 minutes ago. He nervously listened as you explained how to make the salad. He did so quietly, his hands carefully shredding the lettuce then mixing the ingredients to make the vinaigrette. 

You rolled your neck, exhaling through your nose. When you heard him admit his interest in you, you immediately wanted to hide yours. Sure, your feelings were reciprocated but he was a TA, he was basically your teacher. You couldn’t do anything with him, he’s likely the one to by grading your test. If anyone found out, favoritism would be called even if you did get everything right. 

“I’m sorry, I must have read you wrong earlier.” Namjoon’s voice sliced through the silence. His hands held the whisk loosely, dipping his pinky in to make sure the vinaigrette tasted good. 

“No, you didn’t.” You spoke carefully, pulling out plates and setting the steaks on each plate. 

“Would you be upset if I said I was confused?” Namjoon felt like he had to walk on eggshells. Sure, you didn’t necessarily yell at him earlier but he was much more careful of every word he said. 

“We can’t do anything, Namjoon,” you cut up a couple of hard boiled eggs and threw it into the bowl of salad, “you’re my TA. It’d be inappropriate. Believe me, I’ve been imagining going down on you for ages but it’s just not in the cards.” 

This whole conversation was so mature, Namjoon wasn’t used to so much honesty from women and he certainly didn’t expect it from you. Especially since you denied your interest in him so vehemently on the first day. It was new territory, he never had a problem waning women in his direction before.  

“Teacher’s Assistant or not, I still feel like we’d be good. Besides, I’m only your TA for a couple more months.” Namjoon said, finally tossing the salad together. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Because I like you. Genuinely. You’re smart, funny, and one hell of a gorgeous girl.” Namjoon explained, using tongs to lay the salad on the plate beside the steak. 

You smiled at his compliment, grabbing forks and knives out of the drawer. Initially you planned on eating at the table but you decided to stand at the island, sliding a plate over to Namjoon and watching him cut his steak and eat. He moaned at the taste, gesturing wildly at his plate while he chewed. 

“This shit is immaculate.” 

After a few moments, Namjoon had eaten half his steak and you finished your salad. You found a good moment to speak again, “You’re saying you want something more than sex?” 

“The sex would be nice, but I’d like to take you out on a date as well,” he takes another bite, “dinner and dessert.” 

You chewed slowly, thinking over his words carefully. It was true, you’d only have to hide it for a couple months. That is if everything lasted that long. You looked him up and down, weighing the pros and cons. As far as you were concerned, there couldn’t be a con. 

If anything, dating him even briefly would be fun. A college romance. 

“What would be the dessert?” You questioned, taking his now empty plate and slipping it into the sink. 

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, revealing a devilish smirk when he was done. “Well, you of course.” 

You inhaled, watching him stand from his stool and walk around the island. “That is, if you want to be my dessert.” 

Finally, you nodded. Namjoon took your nod as permission, leaning down carefully and pressing a small kiss to your lips. You could taste the raspberry vinaigrette on his tongue when he slipped it gently between your lips. His hand held the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your soft exposed skin. 

Nothing about how he looked could prepare you for the sudden arousal you felt just at his touch. His hands were large, you wanted them all over your body but the stayed at the back of your neck. 

He gave no hint of taking it any further, pulling away just as softly as he started. His lips pressed a kiss to each of your cheeks, then the tip of your nose before pulling away completely. 

Your eyes fluttered back open once you felt his touch leave your body, and then you felt cold everywhere but where he once held you. “Thank you for the dinner, (Y/N).” 

“Wait! You don’t get to get me all hot and bothered and then leave after kissing me!” You yelled, calling after him while he once again made his way to your front door. He paused, turned, and grinned, “Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to bend you over the counter and fuck you into oblivion. I just- I don’t want to mess it up before it even starts.” 

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying desperately to find the words you wanted to say. Your mind was reeling with him, even though it was only a few seconds, his kiss was the most sensual thing you had ever experienced in your entire life. 

“I don’t think fucking me over the counter would mess anything up.” You replied, both shy and ready to rip your clothes off at the same time. 

Namjoon’s cock twitched in his pants at your words, swallowing. “So you’re okay with me fucking you before I take you on a date?” 

“Namjoon,” the way you said his name, desperation rolling off the tip of your tongue, turned him on more than anyone ever has, “I’m begging you to fuck me.” 

That’s what he wanted to hear. 

Namjoon rushed back over to you, his hands at your hips and gripping them roughly in his fingers. His lips were much more rushed, hard against yours. His teeth captured your bottom lip, tugging it gently. 

You grinned at the feeling building in your core, his strong hands lifting you onto the counter. He rested between your legs, only pulling away to take his shirt off of his body. His golden skin shined beneath the lights of your kitchen, your eyes scanning him for just a moment before bringing him down to your lips again. 

You lifted your hips enough for him to slide your pants down your legs. You wrapped them around his hips, grinding softly against him. The whines that left your mouth were sinful and it took everything in Namjoon not to cum just to the sound of your voice.

You pulled away, breathless. Your lips latched onto his neck, biting and sucking harshly.

“Still want to go down on me?” Namjoon grinned. 

You didn’t hesitate in dropping off the counter and onto your knees, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them down his legs. Before moving on, you removed your Tank top from your body, your chest bouncing while you excitedly moved. 

Namjoon’s mouth went dry as he spotted your hard nipples, wanting desperately to latch his lips around them. 

Urgency was felt between the two of you, both of you waiting to feel the rush of pleasure. You pulled his cock out from his jeans, already hard and ready for your lips to wrap around it. You pumped it a few times, smearing precum across the tip before looking up at him through your lashes. 

His hand stroked your hair softly, giving you a subtle nod and urging you to continue. Finally, you licked a long stripe on the underside of his pulsing cock and hearing him moan loudly. You couldn’t help but moan back, watching him throw his head back. 

It was the perfect size, you were able to swallow his cock with ease. Your eyes began to water when he held your head all the way down, burying your nose in his pelvic bone. 

His chest was heaving, and you had never felt sexier. 

Even though you were only going down on him, you still felt pleasure in giving him pleasure. The way his hips tutted into your mouth, shoving his member further down your throat, had you reeling. You slipped your free hand between your legs, rubbing harshly on your clothed clit. 

Your hips lifted and dropped while you tried to find the best angle, you knew you could come just from sucking Namjoon dry. 

“Fuck, you feel so good baby.” Namjoon cried out, watching as his cock thrust in and out of your swollen lips. He continued to guide your head, your other hand dropping as he began to fully fuck your mouth. 

He noticed where your hands were, electrifying pleasure rushing through his body at the sight of you rubbing your clit beneath him. “If you don’t want me to cum on your tongue then I suggest stopping now.” 

There was no way you were stopping now, you felt yourself grow closer and closer to your release. As your movements sped up on your clit, you sucked harder. 

“Ah, ah! Princess please-” Namjoon pleaded, “(Y/N)...” Your name rolled off the tip of his tongue with a grunt.

As you felt your release wash over your body, cum sputtered out of Namjoon’s cock, coating your tongue and the back of your throat. He pulled out until the tip of his cock rested on your tongue, finishing off his orgasm. 

You knew you had soaked through your panties, but you had never came so hard just from touching someone. As Namjoon pulled away, you swallowed the bitter taste and looked up at his completely fucked out expression. 

“Holy shit.” He pulled you up, capturing your lips yet again. It shocked you, as every other man you had been with refused to kiss you after they had cum in your throat. “You are amazing.” 

“S- same to you.” You stuttered, your legs still weak from your release. 

Namjoon dipped his hand down your panties, shocked by the wetness enveloping his fingers. “You’re so wet.” He grinned, he knew he had an affect on you but he didn’t know it was this strong. 

He slid onto his knees, panic rushing over your features, “What are you doing?” 

“Well you made me feel good, now it’s your turn.” He explained, pulling your leg over his shoulder and slipping your panties to the side. 

“I already came...” You said shyly, Namjoon’s pupil’s blown at the sight of your soaked slit. 

“Really? Just from-” you nodded, seeing his shocked expression, “well you get to come again.” 

Before you had a second to gather your thoughts, Namjoon buried his face between your legs. Already weak from before, you felt yourself lean back on the counter for support while his tongue attacked your entrance. You gasped at the sudden feeling of his warmth, his fingers holding open your lips as he moved against you fervently. You don’t think you had ever came so quickly after another, but in seconds you found yourself releasing on his lips, feeling them turn into a smirk while he excitedly lapped up your juices. 

As you tried to gather yourself, you heard your front door unlock. Both of you shared a panicked look, Namjoon slipping his jeans back up his legs and doing the belt up quickly. You looked around, noticing your pants on the other side of the kitchen, and it was too late. 

You heard footsteps approach on the wooden floor, and Namjoon slid you behind him, hiding your unclothed torso. 

“Hey (Y/N) did your hot tutor le- oh my god.” Tamara was cut off by the scene in front of her, Namjoon pushing you to his back while you hid behind him. Peaking your head out, you let out an embarrassed laugh, “I thought you were spending the night at your boyfriend’s.” 

“You said he was just tutoring you and you had sex in our kitchen?” Tamara’s mouth dropped open as she looked around at various items of clothes thrown around. 

“That’s my bad,” Namjoon spoke up, his face warm. From the sex or the embarrassment, he wasn’t sure, “I couldn’t help myself.” 

Tamara only raised an eyebrow at him, shaking her head and turning away. 

You let out a breath, sighing and hugging Namjoon’s back. He chuckled, turning in your arms and hugging you back. “Well that was a fun ride.” 

“Joon,” you still hid your face from him, his laugh filling your ears, “we can’t have sex in my kitchen again.” 

“Awe,” he pouted, grabbing your chin and lifting to meet your eyes, “but I still haven’t bent you over the counter.” 

You gasped at his words, slapping his chest playfully before leaning away and slipping your shirt back on. He dressed himself as well, handing you your pants and watching you cover your gorgeous body. 

“Are you going to stay the night?” You question innocently, most wondering if you needed to grab more pillows for your bed. Namjoon smiled softly, his hands yearning to hold you again but he held himself back, opting to scratch his neck to keep himself busy instead.

“Do you want me to?” 

“It’d be nice.” You grinned, excited at the prospect of falling asleep in his arms. 

Namjoon nodded, following you to your bedroom. 

~*~*~ 

The next morning was busy. You both woke up late, mostly because every time Namjoon’s alarm went off he snoozed it. 

The rest of the night was spent in your bedroom, talking about your aspirations while a movie played in the background. Your fingers clasped together, your heads on the same pillow. He never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you, and for that he was grateful. Never has a woman been so intellectually stimulating to him. 

When you did finally manage to tear yourself out of bed, Namjoon reached out for you in his half-asleep state. “Come back,” his voice was deep but still came out in a whine, “we can skip today.” 

“No we can’t,” you murmur, laying down beside him and pushing his hair from his face, “I already missed my first two classes. The next one is the one we both have to go to, if you and I miss it on the same day it’ll be suspicious.” 

Namjoon sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up. You pulled an outfit out from your closet, undressing and changing. Namjoon still sat on the bed, watching you in awe while he learned your morning routine. 

“What’s that perfume you use?” He asked after a moment, remembering the distinct strawberry scent that he always smelled radiating off of your clothes. You held up a perfume, “Gucci flora, it’s my favorite.” You smiled. 

Finally, he got up and slipped his clothes from yesterday on. You cringed, “You’re gonna have to go to class in the same clothes as yesterday.” 

He shrugged, “I’m sure no one will notice.” 

Namjoon pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, fluffing up the back of your hair for you. 

So quickly did he fall into you. Everything about you was so captivating, down to the way you brushed your teeth. He knew from the first day you walked into that classroom that you were a heartbreaker, and he just prayed every day since he started tutoring you that he was an exception. He wondered how deeply you felt about him, or whether it was on a surface level. Trying not to think about negative things, he shook his head and followed you out of your house. 

When you both made it to the science building, Namjoon waited a moment to walk in after you did. As you sat down at your seat, you couldn’t help but watch Namjoon as he slipped into TA mode. Ready for him was a stack of papers to grade, and you knew you weren’t getting much of a look from him today. Either way, you were happy with the progress the two of you had made in one short night, not that you were expecting any of it to happen. 

The class went by a lot slower than you wanted, and it wasn’t until the professor dismissed you did you realize you had almost fallen asleep while you watched yet another video on Tycho Brahe. 

Everyone filed out of the classroom, and as you got up to leave you stole a glance to Namjoon. He dawned a pair of glasses and read intently on whatever he had in his hand. 

As the professor spoke to a student at the door, you made your way over to Namjoon, tapping your finger on the desk quietly to get his attention. He looked up, slipping off the glasses from his face and grinned, “Well hello gorgeous.” 

You blushed at his words, “I’m going to head back home, you can come if you want?” 

“Hm, I think I’m going to the arcade with my friend. I can come by after that?” He suggested, and you tried to hide your disappointment. Namjoon could sense it, “I’ll come by tonight for sure. Do you like take out?” 

You nodded, “I’d like that.” 

“Miss (Y/L/N)! I’ve seen your improvement and I’m glad, Namjoon has certainly helped you.” The professor walked over to you to, pulling you out of the trance that was Namjoon’s deep brown eyes. 

“Uh, yeah he’s certain good at teaching,” you stuttered, “I’m glad he offered to tutor me.” 

The professor nodded, “Well like I said before, I can’t wait to give you that A.” He patted your shoulder, and you took that as an opportunity to slip out of the room. Namjoon waved to you before discussing something with the professor. You watched for a moment, biting your lip then walking down the hallway and out the door. 

When you made it back to your house, your roommate sat on the couch in her pajamas. You rose an eyebrow, “I thought you had a lecture at 2 today.” 

“I skipped it,” She shrugged, “where’s your boytoy?” 

“At the arcade with a friend of his,” you explained, plopping down beside her and cringing at some reality show she watched. She paused occasionally to explain why some person was yelling at another and you tried to listen to the best of your ability but you couldn’t help but think back to last night. 

Sure, you enjoyed the physicality of everything but once you two began talking about things other than Astrophysics, you learned a whole lot more about him than you expected to. 

His love for rap and music in general was heart-warming, mentioning briefly on how he wished to one day drop a mixtape and maybe get signed. You encouraged him even though you hadn’t heard a single second of anything he’s ever written. Either way, you knew that he could do it because there wasn’t anything in the world you could imagine him being bad at. 

When he asked you about your dreams, you weren’t sure how to answer. You had always taken a, ‘it is what it is’ approach to everything. Yes, you did preemptively take Business Marketing as a gateway into adulthood, but as far as everything else went, you were unsure. 

Eventually you managed a small, “I’m happy to be alive.” 

Namjoon smiled, enjoying the simplicity of your answer. 

You shook your head from thoughts of last night, wiping the grin off your face. 

Just as you saw Tamara drift off to sleep, your phone lit up. 

friend is being lame, can I come over? 

Your heart was giddy, excited to see the man who couldn’t leave your mind. Quickly, you responded. 

please do

You locked your phone and waited on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through the TV while Tamara snored softly. You sighed, wondering if you should tell her to leave for a bit. You decided against it, knowing that he has had men over many times when you were just a thin wall away. 

You hopped up at the sound of a gentle knock on the door, practically throwing the door open to see Namjoon. His smile stretched across his face, “Hi baby.” 

You pulled him into the house, shushing him when you walked passed the living room. He chuckled softly, and when you were down the hall and in your room, he slipped his jacket off of his shoulders. 

“Soo,” you were suddenly shy, realizing you weren’t sure how tonight was going to go, “how was the arcade.” 

“Dumb,” Namjoon replied honestly. You noticed he went home and finally changed from yesterday’s clothes, a tight black T-shirt now hugging his skin. He hopped on the bed beside you, “my friend refuses to let anyone ruin his high score.” 

You giggled, “Ah KSJ? Some girl in my Marketing Research class has been talking about him a lot.” 

Namjoon nodded, “That man has more of an affect than he realizes.” 

It was quiet for a moment, and you watched while he adjusted himself onto your bed. He closed his eyes, and it amazed you at how quickly he became comfortable with you. He was already treating you like you had been together for a while, and you couldn’t complain. You enjoyed skipping the ‘get to know me’ phase, because you know as time goes on you will learn more about each other and in better ways than the standard first date. 

Still, even though you had already done some of the most intimate things with the man, you found yourself in awe of him. His chest rose and fell softly, and you realized that you hadn’t kissed him since this morning. You yearned for his touch but tried desperately not to come off as needy. 

You laid beside him, just far enough away for him to notice. Namjoon opened an eye, “You okay?” 

“I’m good, yeah.” You smiled, swallowing nervously. 

“How come you’re not touching me?” His question was loaded, though it came off innocent. His eyes were closed again, waiting for your verbal response. His hands, clasped behind his head, made his biceps flex beneath the tight black fabric. 

Earlier hesitation gone, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, feeling his arm move and fall around you as if he had been doing this for years. 

You snuggled into him, your eyes growing heavy. 

“Did I really come over here just to nap?” Namjoon asked outloud, more to himself than you. You nodded against him, feeling yourself fall asleep on his chest. 

~*~*~ 

Namjoon hadn’t been around since he fell asleep with you, and you assumed with everything going on that he was busy. He was sure to send a few texts your way a day, being sure to let you know that he can’t stop thinking about you. Even in class, you didn’t talk much but you didn’t mind, focusing on things that you needed to. 

Now it was Saturday night, your legs crossed on your bed and copious amounts of homework and papers surrounding you. Almost finishing, your hands filled out each question when you heard your ringtone throughout the room. 

“Hello?” You answered without looking, putting on your customer service voice out of habit from many years ago. 

“I still haven’t bent you over the table.” Namjoon sounded through, music coming through the speaker. You gasped at his words, immediately dropping your pencil, “Are you drunk?” 

“No,” he giggles, shushing someone else beside him, “I just want you. This bar is boring without you.” 

“You haven’t drank with me though?” You tease, questioning his motives for calling you. He shouted to someone in the corner, telling them to stop talking shit, “I bet you’re sexy when you’re drunk. Not that you aren’t sexy all the time, but I think you’d be even more wet than before if you drank a little with me.” 

“I really hope you aren’t saying these things in front of people, Joon.” You scold, but you can’t help but feel the heat between your legs at his words. You imagined him at a table with his friends, his hand over the speaker while he spoke dirty words into your ears. 

“I’m coming over.” Namjoon said, and he hung up without another word. 

You look around, quickly cleaning up your papers and books, sliding them onto your night stand. You rushed to the bathroom, brushing your teeth quickly. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect, so you changed from your sweats and into a satin nightgown. You studied your reflection carefully, shaking your head and changing into something else. 

Black and red lingerie rested on your body, and you knew you were finally ready. As if expecting that you were ready, Namjoon knocked on the door. You rushed to the door, the knocking not stopping until you were opening it. He took a moment to look at your scantily clad body, an audible groan slipping from his lips. 

He was drunk, or at least tipsy. He’s eyes were clouded over and every inch of your body only turned him on.

No words were exchanged, only Namjoon grabbing your face in his large hands and kissing you passionately. He pushed you into your house, his lips not leaving yours. You silently thanked your roommate for leaving, not having to worry about be walked in on until the morning. He already had the layout of your house memorized, carefully navigating through your hallway until he reached your bathroom. 

Confused, you pulled away when you heard the door creek, “What are you-” 

“I want you in the shower,” Namjoon said, already ripping off his shirt, “and as much as I would love to fuck you in that tiny little outfit, I like when you’re naked even more.” 

It didn’t take much to convince you. He stumbled out of his jeans, no boxers to be seen underneath. You watched him with a smirk on your face, his hand turning the shower on and testing the temperature. 

When he turned back to you, it felt like something switched in him, “Why aren’t you undressed?” 

Your core twitched at the demanding tone of his voice. He wasn’t hard yet, he held himself off from stroking himself until he saw that you were wet and ready. 

You unclasped your bra, slipping it from around your shoulders. He grabbed your arm, guiding you to the water and silently asking for you to test it. When you felt the warm liquid surround your hand, you nodded and stepped out of your panties. 

Without giving you much time to adjust, Namjoon was behind you, pulling the shower head off of the mount and switching it to massage mode. 

“I thought you wanted to fuck me?” You questioned, such dirty words falling from your sinful mouth. Namjoon smiled down at you, his cock rutting against your backside in anticipation, “I do, but I want to make you feel good as well.” 

He brought the shower head over the front of your body, running the water over everywhere he would kiss if he were in bed. Your tits were perky, a perfect handful for Namjoon to grab and tug at while the water moved down lower. 

His feet kicked yours apart, spreading your legs ever-so-slightly and allowing the harsh water jets to hit your clit directly. Immediately, your legs grew weak. Namjoon wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you up while the jets pounded against your clit. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, Namjoon’s cock twitching from behind you, “more.” 

Suddenly, he felt much more sober than previously, “What was that, baby?” 

“More, please. More.” Was all you could manage out, your head thrown back onto his shoulder while you clawed backward, desperate to touch him in any way you possibly could. When your hands settled on the back of your neck, you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. 

Just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Namjoon pulled away, his lips attacking your neck while you whined from the lack of sensation against you. The water jets was replaced with his fingers, “I can’t take it anymore. I have to be inside you.” 

Catching your breath, you turned to him and kissed him harshly. Your nails raked down his abs, feeling the muscles clench at every touch against him. You gripped his now hard cock in your manicured hand, pumping it up and down quickly. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” If he could tease you, you could tease him right back, “you might cum too quickly. I don’t know if you could last inside of me.” 

“Cocky, huh? Bend over. Now.” Namjoon demanded, not having any of it. As you turned around, your head under the water, Namjoon rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slit, collecting up your wetness and groaning at the feeling of you finally so close to him. 

He didn’t ask if you were ready like he wanted to, but the feeling was overwhelming, just running his cock over you was enough to send him into the most intense rush of pleasure he’s ever felt in his entire life and he forgot how to move his tongue to create the words running through his head. 

All he could do was slowly sink into you, earning a delicious moan from you. You gripped onto the railing in front of you, his length filling you and stretching you out in the best way possible. Even with the water running over both of you, you were numb to everything that wasn’t him. His fingertips digging into your hips, his length moving in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. In that moment, your entire being was consumed by him and him alone. 

“More.” You moaned, much like earlier except your voice was filled with much more need than before. Namjoon couldn’t help himself, though, continuing his slow thrusts. Whines, glorious and loud, filled the shower, echoing off of the walls. Namjoon was quiet, just listening to you while your knuckles turned white from gripping the handles. 

“Fuck!” you shout, letting go of the railing and leaning up, just enough for Namjoon’s hands to return to your breasts, massaging them as he finally began to speed up his motions. 

“I love that you’re so loud,” Namjoon manages, grunting while he spoke, “tell me more. Tell me how much you like it.” 

“You feel so good, Namjoon,” you look back at him, his eyes screwed shut and his hair soaked, droplets of water dripping from the ends of his hair, “you’re so big, I love your- I love-” your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You weren’t able to form anymore words as Namjoon’s cock hit just the right place to have you rolling in pleasure. 

“Come on, babygirl. You have to tell me.” His thrusts were faster, sloppier, and his fingers found their way back down to your clit. His calloused fingers spread your lips, moving in a figure 8 while he timed his thrusts with each twist of his finger. 

“I want you to fill me up!” You cry out, and you knew you weren’t helping Namjoon in anyway from the way your legs gave out. His arms held you close though, keeping you up so easily.

Namjoon buried his face in your shoulder, “You’re so fucking hot, please tell me you’re close.” His words were muffled but you could understand him loud and clear.

“Mmhmm.” You managed, biting your lip. 

“Say it.” 

“I’m going to come,” you moan, and then your release washed over your body in waves. Everything was too much, the way you came undone beneath him and the feeling of you squeezing his cock. He was a mess, and after a few more thrusts, he pulled his cock out of you and released onto your ass, letting you go in the process. 

You fall forward, grabbing the railing yet again for support and feeling his hot cum drench your lower half. With your orgasm still running its course, you felt your knees buckle while you dropped. 

Namjoon was quick to reach forward and catch you, setting you down on the ledge of the top and moving the hair out of your face. “Are you okay baby?” 

You nodded, “I’m more than okay.” 

Namjoon grinned, leaning down and kissing your cheeks, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

After cleaning you up, Namjoon massaged shampoo and conditioner throughout your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of coconut. Afterward, he even brushed your hair while you were wrapped in a towel, then finally handing you his shirt to sleep in. 

“So,” you said later that night, stroking his hair while you listened to music, “we going to go on that date you said you wanted to take me out on?”

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He looks up at you, that dimpled smirk stretching across his face. 

“I’d like that.” You grin, leaning down and giving him one of many kisses. 

[ningdungi]

fairy prince!yeonjun

this has been in my draft for so long since CYSM i decided to just post it...lengthy and messy because originally it was just a prompt :D also inspired by she-ra and the princesses of power lol i love that show

pairing: yeonjun x reader (fem)

genre: fantasy, a little angsty

summary: you got captured by yeonjun, the crown prince of the fairy kingdom in the magic forest

choi yeonjun, the crown prince of the fairy kingdom deep in the magic forest

the fairy kingdom has been one of the greatest protectors of the forest for thousands of years, along with other kingdoms in the magic island

the island being covered almost 1/3 by the forest, the fairy kingdom remains one of the biggest and strongest kingdom to ever exist

however, it is also not the friendliest kingdom as it is hidden deep in the forest to protect the ancient magic and stones

the foreign organization exploits the hell out of the island but never get to touch the forest as it is protected by magic and ancient spirit of the ecosystems

the leader of the evil interstellar organization wasn’t so dumb either, they waited for years preparing the best strategy to get what they want: the ancient magic and (said to be) stolen stones to combine with their crazy technology so they can conquer the universe

the leader of the evil interstellar organization wasn’t so dumb either, they waited for years preparing the best strategy to get what they want: the ancient magic and (said to be) stolen stones to combine with their crazy technology so they can conquer the universe

mistaken for a new kingdom, the evil organization is known for their evil sinister king. When rlly he’s just a capitalist asshole that only cares abt money and power... and his precious daughter—or what the locals call—the evil princess, you

he also has a younger son, prince taehyun, your half-brother, who happens to be a genius and good with technologies. But his father wanted him to be a warrior, not some nerd. So he’s never really fond of him :(

one day you grew tired of being seen as a delicate doll that needs protection, you’re a trained warrior that’s always at least on the top 3 in class. Plus you’re older than taehyun so you need to prove yourself to your father if you want to be force captain and to take the throne one day (yes i’ve been watching a lot of she-ra) but your father just couldn’t risk it

one day, the your kingdom poisoned the forest and unlike any previous failed attempt, this time it finally worked

the day the invasion occurred, you sneaked out of the evil kingdom to join the force that your half-brother co-lead... i mean, you have lots of knowledge about the history and ecosystem of the magic forest, thanks to the help of your best friend, healer elf prince!soobin, whose kingdom had been corrupted by your father (but he still hangs around bc they did no harm to the elf kingdom, just taking over the whole region)

i mean, what could possibly go wrong?

well thee answer is: everything

you got captured IMMEDIATELY by the fairies

even better, you’re captured by the fairy prince!yeonjun himself. you were sneaking in the trees under the moon light, in the dark dark forest. and thats how you ended up being strangled by the prince himself and tied up with vines and thorns

you were in an awe the entire time bc you had no idea that the fairy prince would be this beautiful and ethereal. he just looks so... delicate and magical and soft, despite the fact that he almost choked you to death

you’ve just never seen any creature as beautiful as him, all glowing and sparkling softly under the moonlight

the glimmering luxurious pastel dress that he wore fits him perfectly, and the flower crown on his blonde locks made little butterflies fly upon him. His eyes cold but shines brightly, and everywhere he goes, he leaves trails of fairy dust and sparkles

but to your surprise, he’s kinda mean and short tempered. A frown never leaves his soft peachy lips

one look at you and he goes "... and what could the infamous little princess of the evil kingdom be doing in MY land? doing MEAN and EVIL stuff? hm??”

you’ve heard about the fairies not being the most friendly creature but you thhought they were just vicious, not sarcastic and seems angry all the time

and strangely enough, unlike other fairies, he didn’t have wings. And the flower crown on his blonde hair looked more like horns growing out of his head

he grew impatient from your lack of response but he couldn’t kill you yet, he needed you to get back at the evil kingdom

so he brought you to his kingdom—the kingdom’s prison, to be exact. But it’s just a beautiful chamber filled with wild plants and flowers and glowing fireflies underneath the moonlight, you were kinda confused when he said it’s a prison since the concept of prison that you grew up with is practically just a cold dark chamber of torture

“THIS is your PRISON? you sure you’re not taking me on a fairy date just now? to meet your pretty little fairy friends?” you said with a smug on your face, knowing that he wouldnt dare to intentionally hurt you, as he is a creature of natural protector despite his short temper

so you use this opportunity to annoy the hell out of him

“pretty flower crowns you got there” “btw where are your wings? aren’t all fairies supposed to have sparkly translucent wings?” “honestly i thought prisons are supposed to be a little more dark and intimidating you know, not like this pretty fairy garden”

you’d give him headache and the urge to use some forbidden magic curse on you but he didn’t because your corpse wouldn’t do any good

“these are HORNS! and not every fairy have the same physical features, stop stereotyping us! it’s disrespectful” he snapped

you were just complimenting him why is he always so cranky

i mean his horns look so beautiful they could easily be mistaken as a crown...

after gathering some information, you broke out of the prison with the help of the dying forest and weakening magic force

but you didn’t want to return just yet. you needed to gather more information as the forest started to heal

also you’re kinda lost your way back home lol

your father was FURIOUS, he blamed everyone for your abduction. even your little brother got enough beating for that

as days gone by, you feel like you’re getting closer to the secrets of the island, and also the fairy prince

and every encounter with him it’s just consist of a lot of bickering and sword fighting and being angry at each other

one time your faces were far too close to each other it made you let your guards down, but you snapped out of it quickly and proceed to strangle him

for some reason he never try to actually kill you and you never seem to get the right chance to kill him. it’s weird coming from you bc that’s literally what’s you’re trained for, to kill the prince. you still gotta prove yourself, remember?

but you’re getting used to each other’s presence so much that it became amusing for him

“wow (y/n) this is actually a fun date idea. I’m giving it a 4/10. could’ve been a solid 10 if you didn’t try to stab me in the ribs tho :/“ he said in the middle of a sword fight

one day you’re battling in some strange part in the forest, you were spying on him but got caught

but little did you know, it was one of the forest’s sacred sites. It’s filled with the strongest magic and ancient technology and guarded by forces you don’t know yet

you got struck by some ancient magic, resulting in some strange event to happen. which led you to be captured by the fairy prince yeonjun himself, again

you were kinda weak from the struck so most of the time he’s the one guarding you in the prison, keeping an eye on you and limiting your suspicious moves

so all you can do in the meantime is to either insult his annoyingly beautiful prison or annoy the prince himself

he always seems pissed and suspicious for no reason so it’s kinda fun to you

“are you in pain or something? did you get struck by some strange magic too? why are you always so mean and angry?? are you hurting somewhere ??"

“excuse YOU? am i supposed NOT TO ?? maybe i wouldn’t be so mean and angry all the time if the evil kingdom DON’T try to exploit the forest ALL THE TIME, every think of that? does that ring a bell? here's a hint: i’m talking about YOU, princess (y/n)” he’d roll his eyes, angrily walking in circles. kinda mad at his dad for making him guard you

i mean... there should be enough guards in this castle, right?

little did you know, the magic is actually weakening... leaving the royal bloods’ magic the only force that can protect the forest, for now

“for the hundreth time, i am NOT a princess! i’m a fucking warrior, so stop calling me that!” sometimes you get pissed for his sarcastic remarks and his attitudes in general too. also this time you’re not really feeling well after the struck

“whatever you say, my princess” he’d blow flower petals on your face before giving you a smirk, dancing away gracefully as he picks flowers and tuck them into his flower crown... dozens of flowers immediately grows back for every single flower he picks from the ground, what a sight

you’d blush and try to look away. he never used his magic and charms for this type of things, usually it’s just for some silly pranks or weak attempts temporary torture in the battlefield (bc using magic drains his energy quickly)... so why now? was he really using magic or was is it just you?

after so many encounters and chances of being alone together, you sure know how to get on each other’s nerves... and each other’s head

you were there for a couple days, it’s kinda weird that you didn’t try to escape

turned out you were kinda sick, the strange magic struck weakened your senses and abilities. but you didnt want to admit it nor let him know that you’re literally vulnerable right now

you were smart enough to use this opportunity to get close to him, telling lies about how pitiful your life’s been as a princess and how you just want to prove yourself to your father, you don’t even care about conquering the universe

he didn’t buy that at first, not until you told him about how the evil kingdom sees the forest. you’d say your father thinks the fairies are the bad guys bc they stole the stones from the ancestors of your father’s planet thousands of years ago and that they’re just trying to get it back to heal their dying planet

you didn’t lie at that part, it was true... at least for the invaders. that’s how he kinda get surprised he had to tell the fairies’ version of the story

turned out that it’s all just a misunderstanding between the two parties, but unlike yeonjun being the democratic soon-to-be leader that he is, you still want approval

which you can only get by killing the fairy crown prince yeonjun before his coronation

but jokes on you, you kinda have feelings for him too. you didnt even try to kill him when he fell asleep holding you in his arms... you’d always say to yourself that ‘it wasn’t the right time’ to kill him just yet

of course it wasn’t. there never was, and never will be. you love him, dumbass. even the moon shining upon you the two of you could easily tell

he’d start to tell you secrets... secrets of the forest, his ancestors and families, the kingdom, the magic island, everything

you knew the forest is dying, but what you didn’t know is that he never wanted to be king,, he doesn’t feel like he’s qualified to be one. hell, he doesn’t even have wings, and he’s got horns growing out of his head. no fairy king or queen written in history of the magic island to not have wings, ever

“but it’s not required, right? literally nobody said you’ve got to be born with wings in order to be a fairy king. it’s already in your blood, yeonjun.” you would reassure him as you lift his chin so you can clearly see his eyes... all shaky and scared

he’d kiss you and you swore you almost forgot about your personal mission of luring and getting him into your trap

he told you about when he was just a fairy child... other young fairies and forest creatures bullied him for having horns and no wings,, i mean... he’s a fairy after all. it’s actually really natural, it’s just unusual among the immature creatures

one day he ran away way too far out of the forest... to the giant thorned vine bushes that looked like a cavern... it was dark and scary, he’s never seen this part of the island before

he didn’t know that it’s an entrance to the darker side of the island, where your father landed the ship and invaded a whole region of natural resources and innocent creatures, including the elf kingdom

and then he met a little girl, holding a basket full of flowers and wild berries, with a messy flower crown made of wild flowers on her head. she approached him and asked him softly if he’s lost and why is he crying

he was scared at first because she’s dressed like human, but after a while he learned that she’s harmless. he told her he’s scared that one day he’s gonna turn into a monster bc of his growing horns

“horns? i thought these were a crown... a very peculiar one, i must admit. but didn’t you say you’re a prince? a prince is supposed to wear a crown, right?” the little girl said brightly

“here, let me tuck these flowers in between your hairs and horns... now it’s a flower crown! it’s always been a crown, but now you have flowers!” she would jump around happily, which made the little prince smiled a little too

the story kinda shocked you... could it be that...?

no, snap out of it! it’s not even important nor relevant to your current circumstances

but you never thought that the crown that he proudly wore all the time has been... a growing pain for him

speaking of pain, the part of your back that’s got struck by the strange magic the other day keeps hurting you, and that night it started to get worse, two vertical scars started to form, followed by black liquid running down from each one

“you’re hurt! why didn’t you tell me?” he snapped, his voice filled with worries and anger. maybe it’s because of the fact that black blood could only mean one thing... dark magic

he took care of you and looked after you all the time

and yet you’d still tell him lies... and giving him false hopes

“let’s run away, together... to somewhere far, somewhere safe, we can build our own forever...”

[lamortexiii]

Cryptic Mystic: Karma, Keepers, or Something Else...

Karma, Keepers, or Something Else…: I am sure that you have heard the phrase “reap what you sow” at some point in your life, otherwise known as karma. Maybe you’ve experienced karma in your life. After all, we receive what we put out into the universe… or do we? Some believe there is a “keeper” or someone watching over us that protects us and provides us good or bad experiences based on how we interact with others (some may say “angels). If this is so, is this individual or universal? Maybe “keepers” are loved ones who have left their physical form, or maybe they are something that our human minds are currently incapable of understanding. For some this may even simply be a grandeur delusion brought on by narcissistic personality traits or possibly a mental disorder. A little unknown mixed in with a little psychology, served on a platter as per usual. Let’s dive right in to 2021 with this debatable topic, shall we?

I’ll start by informing you that karma actually possesses many meanings depending on what culture and country you are in. The most familiar American definition of karma - meaning that bad things happen to those who do bad things and good things happen to those who do good things - is but one definition of many. Now, this definition that we understand here in America is of course defined by what one perceives as good and bad - this can look different for many people. Having said this, there is no “one way” to believe in karma or to define what “good and bad” mean. For our purposes, I am going to define the terms karma, good, and bad in the most generalized sense that a majority of American society would view as the typical definition. Just know, this may or may not apply to your personal beliefs of what defines “good and bad” or your personal beliefs of what the definition of “karma” is. I completely agree that there are many viewpoints and perceptions and do not discount differences in opinions/beliefs by any means.

Karma originated from the Sanskrit term meaning “action, work, or deed.” It was a plain and simple definition, as if I were having a conversation with you and said, “The karma that he is completing on that house looks marvelous!” I realize how utterly ridiculous that sounds in today’s way of speaking - given the word was just used completely out of cultural context, but you get the point. The word “karma” at that time was just another word and carried little significance. That is, until 1000-700BCE when within the Vedic religion the definition of karma actually meant something that you likely would not guess. The definition took an abrupt and dramatic turn and was used to define not only the word “act,” but additionally it was defined as actions that took place regarding ritualistic and sacrificial occurrences.

Karma in itself has ancient roots in religion such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sikhism to name a few. Karma is seen as a sort of rebirth process in which the way that an individual is in the present day affects their future - all within the same life cycle. Within this realm, karma also affects one’s samsara, or quality of life. In Asia karma is portrayed through symbols such as the endless knot, which symbolizes the never ending process of cause and effect. In knowing this, you can see why karma closely relates to the philosophical theory of causality, defined as when one event contributes to another event where the cause is partly responsible for the effect, and the effect is partly dependent on the cause. The idea of karma in this sense is seen as a never ending cycle - one that highly influences the circle of life. This is what we know and recognize in modern American society, as well as in many other first-world countries/cultures.

In current society we then view karma as defining the relationship of cause and effect. Some view this as a very spiritual term, believing that there is a higher power who controls the occurrences of karma. Others simply use the term with reckless abandon - not actually understanding what it means, as society has culturally appropriated the term to fit the American narrative. Yet others (myself included) question the occurrence of karma and the several possibilities that may be at play here. Whether you believe karma occurs due to a higher power, some other religious aspect, sheer luck, extraterrestrials, a delusional belief, something else, or maybe you don’t believe in it at all - and that’s okay! Regardless of what you believe, we’re going to dive into some of those possibilities today. As I always say, once you have read this blog it is up to you to ultimately decide what you believe.

From a personal standpoint, I have been in many situations where either I don’t know how I survived, or at the bare minimum how I managed to come out of certain situations unscathed. I have been in several car accidents that were so much more than just fender benders - coming out of all of those without a single scratch. I have never caused an accident, however for whatever reason I seem to be a target for idiots who don’t know how to drive. I guess I just have that attraction factor. All jokes aside, I consider myself lucky to have not been injured in any of the accidents that I have been in. I have to wonder how this is possible, but then another person can be in ONE accident and it’s all over.

I will share a more intimate incident with you that is much darker than a happenstance car accident. When I was much younger I tried to take my own life. I didn’t want to be in this body on this planet any longer. I remember thinking to myself - there has to be something better than this. I swallowed a bunch of unknown pills doused with alcohol. I attempted this on two different occasions. Both times made me extremely ill. The first time I vomited and then felt very tired. The second time I fell to the floor and almost became unconscious. I was very dizzy and couldn’t stand/walk. I went to sleep for several hours with a low heart rate and shallow breathing. However, after both of these occurrences many years later, I realize that I was put here for a bigger purpose. I have many reasons I am here - sharing this blog with you being one of them. I wasn’t meant to leave my physical form here on Earth either one of those times. I like to think that something is protecting me, however I cannot say with certainty what that is or why exactly…

My biological mother was in a bad car accident when she fell asleep at the wheel. It threw her from the car and knocked off both of her sneakers. She woke up laying in the grass without shoes. She told me that she doesn’t remember much, but that she saw white hands on her shoulders and felt like whatever that was had pushed her through the accident. She came out without any serious injuries - only suffering minor bruising. It is important to note that she has had similar experiences as I have with feeling things and experiencing premonitions.

To touch on karma a bit from a personal experience, I have a short but interesting story to tell. Growing up I didn’t have many true friends and found myself surrounded by individuals who acted in a manner that I did not understand. There was a lot of negative energy on behalf of those around me; jealousy, lies, deceit, bad intentions, and misery. I wasn’t treated very well by my peers or in relationships. In fact, I was bullied, mentally abused, and physically abused by several people as I grew from a child to an adolescent. Interestingly enough, I found that those who did absolutely wrong to me that had the worst of intentions always had something bad happen to them. One person that comes to mind was blown up in an explosion overseas while serving in the military. Another person was in a bad car accident. From what I know currently, all of these people who were utterly nasty to me continue to lead miserable lives - because they are in fact miserable people. Whether this is just their nature or that they just didn’t have the strength and willpower to seek better things for themselves is debatable. Nonetheless, none of them as far as I know are happy in the present day and have likely never experienced true real happiness. As described before, some of these people have had very bad things happen to them. Is this karma or maybe a keeper’s doing? I have no idea, but it is something I have turned over in my mind for many years, and continue to ponder on from time to time.

One theory some hold is that angels are protecting people. This could turn into a really big conversation, so I will try my best to stay objective here and stick to the main topic of karma and keepers. I challenge the theory of angels for the following reasons: The Bible was written by several people with several different versions available, as have all books that we know today. Christianity in itself, as well as several other religions point to the sky (or heavens) as being the source of an almighty power. What if angels are actually extraterrestrials and those who have experienced said “angels” rationalize their experience by putting a name on the experience, therefore believing it was a religious experience rather than something that they didn’t understand - as a form of coping with the unknown. That is my personal theory in relation to “keepers” and the “karma” experienced therein as being related to any type of angelic form. This also covers how extraterrestrials could very well be the forces pulling the strings. As humans we base our logical thinking on what it is we know to be true - or what we have been taught is the truth, but how do we really know? The short answer is - we don’t. It is much easier to put a label on something to be able to process what that thing is than to be left to wonder and be afraid of what we do not know and understand. It is much easier to read what others have written and blindly accept it as being “the truth” or “the way” without seeking further proof. Just a few things to think about - and this goes for any religion. Group-think is a good descriptive term that comes to mind.

The religious standpoint on karma and “keepers” has everything to do with psychology and the human brain and its functions. Think about it as I said before - the human brain naturally tries to rationalize and process new information in a way that is understandable and logical. This varies depending on who you are talking to of course, but is the ultimate foundation for religion. Beginning in ancient times before electricity, technology, and all of the wonderful (and not so wonderful) things we have now, the less intelligent brains of those before us attempted to rationalize what they were experiencing. Let me give you a universal example that is actually more recent - did you know at one point women were seen as being psychotic and even evil for having hormonal symptoms related to their menstrual cycle and even for having a menstrual cycle period? (no pun intended) Women were put through horrible treatment to try to treat PMS, and it was even seen as being a mental illness/disorder for a very long time! At one point in time menstruating women were seen as being involved in magic and sorcery (whoops, you got me!). To quote some religious scripture, “go apart from women during the monthly course, do not approach them until they are clean” Quran 2:222, “…in her menstrual impurity; she is unclean… whoever touches…shall be unclean and shall wash his clothes and bathe in water and be unclean until evening” Leviticus 15, and lastly from the first Latin encyclopedia, “Contact with menstrual blood turns new wine sour, crops touched by it become barren, grafts die, seed in gardens are dried up, the fruit of trees fall off, the edge of steel and the gleam of ivory are dulled, hives of bees die, even bronze and iron are at once seized by rust, and a horrible smell fills the air; to taste it drives dogs mad and infects their bites with an incurable poison.” Okay… so… you realize how ridiculous all of this sounds, right? However, it was not ridiculous at the time - the people who lived in those times found a way to explain, rationalize, and describe what they felt was logical for explaining a woman’s menstrual cycle. Freud attempted to explain why people felt this way about menstrual cycles by stating that humans are naturally scared and uncomfortable around blood - again the human brain giving a logical explanation for why these thoughts and beliefs occurred. We know now through research and scientific data (actual tangible proof) that PMS is related to the shift in hormones women experience during that special time of month, which can cause a plethora of symptoms. This is easily treatable today with modern medicine or more holistic approaches - both of which have also been scientifically proven to work.

I know that last paragraph seems a little off course for this particular blog topic, but it carries a strong point that I feel necessary to make. Point being: religion is just another way the human brain tries to rationalize an event that is happening that is unexplained, new, different, abnormal, or scary; the same way that human brains of ancient times tried to rationalize with women bleeding from their vaginas. Having answers and an explanation gives people peace of mind. Once an idea becomes universal, again, it makes it easy to follow and just shrug the phenomena off as being caused by whatever is said by whoever is explaining it as their belief. The same is said for keepers, karma, and everything in between.

From a disorder perspective, it is very possible that some people believe in having a “keeper” because they are divine or special to a point of being above others. This behavior would likely fall under a more Narcissistic Personality Disorder or potentially some form of psychosis or schizophrenia. Reason being, these disorders involve hallucinations, delusions, and irrational beliefs that are of a bizarre nature. All three have key factors that make them different of course. For example, Narcissistic Personality Disorder revolves more around the person having selfish traits and not possessing the ability to connect with others all while believing they are of a certain prestige pedigree or above others. Psychosis and schizophrenia look similarly to one another in that both include symptomology involving hallucinations, delusions, and breaks from reality, however schizophrenia can actually cause psychosis. Additionally, patients diagnosed with schizophrenia may have symptoms of psychosis but not everyone with psychosis will be diagnosed with schizophrenia. Keeping it short here, but those are the basics of those three conditions. Knowing this, it is easy to see how someone could hold a belief that they have someone watching over them because they are special, or that some force is causing them to receive good karma or inflict bad karma on those who do them wrong.

Regardless of which way you choose to look at keepers and karma, both are definitely interesting phenomena that could use more research and productive discussions. Keeping an open-mind is always the path I personally choose to take because there are so many factors and options to consider before making a solid judgement on what the actual root cause of either one of these is. I wanted to kick 2021 off with an interesting yet somewhat debatable topic to really get you thinking. There are plenty more blogs in store where this one came from. This year will be much better than what we knew as 2020 (good riddance!) Here’s to another year full of education, knowledge, mystery, good conversation, and intriguing topics that really get those gears turning in your brain. Stay safe, be you, and never stop seeking the truth - whatever that truth is for you.

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 10

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Fēngmián & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Yànlí & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Fēngmián & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Qǐrén & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Yú Zǐyuān, Yínzhū, Jīnzhū, Lán Jǐngyí, Jiāng Fēngmián, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A day in the market turns into a philosophical challenge for Lan XiChen.

Notes: Ren is a Confucian concept involving the virtue of altruism and humanity/humaneness. XiChen is lost in his teachings and how what he’s learning at Lotus Pier connect to those teachings at the end here, so we have reference to many ancient Chinese philosophers. I almost had this chapter in Madam Yu’s perspective, but I realized XiChen’s would be better. He’s changing too—particularly important because (at least imo) canon XiChen was very passive because of the rules he felt he needed to abide by. He’s being challenged by this experience. So are all the other characters, as we can see with Madam Yu in this chapter. The Chinese suffix -men is a way to turn certain words plural, often general words rather than specific. Thus, referring to the fact that they will have many martial brothers and sisters (younger and older) would justify the use. I know this only because of the wonderful @merakilyy​, who has on multiple occasions been kind enough to answer my questions about Chinese language usage. Also, xingan literally means heart and liver and is kind of the equivalent of “my heart and soul.”

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 

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Living at Lotus Pier had been strange for XiChen for many reasons, not the least of which was spending so much less time with WangJi. He knew he wasn’t unwelcome by any means—Wei WuXian always greeted him with a smile and was happy to include him in lunch and their afternoon music sessions when he stopped by. But XiChen had always been friendly with his fellow disciples and had his friendship with Nie MingJue; Wei WuXian was WangJi’s first friend, the first person he’d allowed close enough, the first person who didn’t seem intimidated by what had often been interpreted as coldness.

He was afraid, during the weeks Wei WuXian was unconscious, that whatever WangJi had seen in the boy that had led him to give him their mother’s rattle drum all those years ago would lead him to grieve just as hard for this boy as he had their mother if he died. But he had woken, and despite the amnesia had glommed onto WangJi, as though by virtue of being the first person he remembered, he had imprinted, for lack of a better word. And WangJi seemed happy with their friendship.

So XiChen joined them for lessons each morning with shufu, often finding himself fascinated by the questions Wei WuXian asked, questions no Lan would think of. Though it isn’t clear how much was memory loss and how much was a freer upbringing, he could tell those questions sometimes challenged shufu, though he never lost his temper.

The most fascinating one so far was “Who decided what’s right and what’s wrong? What if they’re wrong?”

Shufu had asked for an example, and clearly hadn’t expected the boy to come up with one, but he had, a far-away look in his eyes.

“Like one part of a clan does something really evil, and people decide to wipe out the whole clan so it can never happen again. And everyone says it’s justified, but they let kids and civilians get killed. But if anyone tries to stop it people say they’re bad.”

XiChen had just stared, glancing finally at his uncle, who looked nonplussed. Shufu even asked if Wei WuXian heard of this occurring, and the boy just shrugged.

“The cultivation world can be wrong,” shufu finally answered, “and can fail in our obligations to the people. No human is infallible.”

Wei WuXian sometimes seemed to be far away during lessons, head tilted as though deep in thought, but shufu was quite tolerant of this given that he was still recovering, and given that he still seemed to take in what they were learning.

Overall, XiChen found Wei WuXian fascinating, and thought he was the right person to bring WangJi out of his shell. Already his brother was trying new things: foods, music, swimming lessons. Sect Leader Jiang had asked if both of them would like training in the Jiang style sword forms, even, and WangJi had nodded. WangJi smiled, even tiny ones most people didn’t notice, more in the last few weeks since Wei WuXian woke than he had since their mother died.

Even shufu seemed impacted by Lotus Pier. XiChen was able to help teach Jiang YanLi to read music and adjust to playing the konghou, the first time he was allowed to teach. He had never played one himself, but teaching her to read music had been fun, and he found her company pleasing—they were never unaccompanied as it would be inappropriate, generally with shufu overseeing or one of Madam Yu’s maids in the room. She had already gotten blisters from playing her beginner konghou but seemed unbothered by them. 

“I had to get used to developing callouses from chopping vegetables,” she confessed to him. “I know this is part of the process.

He had the opportunity during lunches with her, WangJi, and Wei WuXian in the infirmary to enjoy her cooking—her talent in that regard was unmistakable. She was also a quick learner, and he admired her commitment to becoming a healer, particularly after learning she had to commit to improving her weak cultivation to do so. XiChen had actually learned several techniques from listening to shufu advise her.

He found her quite admirable. 

But more, shufu just today invited XiChen and WangJi to be open with their emotions with him, where he’d previously lectured them on excessive emotion. And he had cancelled lessons for the first time since XiChen could remember!

They were sent off with the Jiangs and Wei WuXian to enjoy the town, the first time circumstances had allowed it. Madam Yu’s somewhat scary personal maids and a couple disciples accompanied them, all carrying baskets for purchases. 

This excursion was significantly different from the one he and WangJi had undertaken shortly after Wei WuXian woke. For one, they had no clear goal, the pace leisurely. For another, it was the first time Wei WuXian had left Lotus Cove since the attack and his illness. He carried his sword as he had not in Lotus Cove, his recovery having exempted him from the custom. In many ways, this was him rejoining the world as a cultivator. 

Immediately, townspeople reacted to seeing him, and the younger boy was clearly a little overwhelmed, clinging to WangJi’s arm and attempting polite smiles. WangJi, for his part, frowned at people who got too close. Jiang WanYin flanked Wei WuXian’s other side, a bit like a bodyguard. Jiang YanLi walked in front of him, greeting the people kindly and letting them know her brother was still recovering. When gifts were given, she placed the parcel in one of the baskets carried by a disciple or maid. 

Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu were at Jiang WanYin’s side, arm in arm, politely greeting the people as well.

XiChen walked beside WangJi, watching the proceedings with interest; the people of Lotus Pier clearly had great affection for the Jiangs. It was a relationship that differed greatly from that of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi, the nearest town. But Lotus Cove was nestled aside the city and aided most of the commerce in town. It was a symbiotic relationship, and the gifts represented the esteem the town held for their role in its success. 

“Yingying!” rang out across the market, coming from an elderly woman manning a baozi stall. “Come give popo a hug.”

To XiChen’s surprise, the boy brightened and broke away from WangJi’s side to approach the woman, who pulled him into her arms in a gentle but firm embrace.

“Popo was so worried. I heard you were sick.”

Wei WuXian nodded, looking up at her.

“I… Popo, I lost all my memories,” he admitted. “But you sent the baozi and I remembered you.”

The woman looked up at Sect Leader Jiang, who nodded grimly. Tears filled her eyes. 

“Oh, you poor child. That must be frightening. Let me wrap up some baozi, extra spicy for you and some mild for your siblings and friends. You can come to popo anytime.”

She released him from her embrace and then handed Wei WuXian a fresh bun. Watching him eat reminded XiChen none of them had breakfast, but the woman handed out buns to each of them.

“You Lan don’t like meat, as I recall, so here are some stuffed with bok choy, mushrooms, and tofu.”

The woman wrapped up more, ignoring her customers, who didn't seem upset, instead chatting with the Jiangs animatedly.

The baozi was delicious, though spicier than XiChen was used to. WangJi and the Jiang children seemed to similarly enjoy theirs. Popo gave Wei WuXian one last hug and then waved them off with an order to come visit more.

Madam Yu and Sect Leader Jiang alternated between talking to townspeople and looking at each other in a way XiChen sometimes saw between courting couples. He tried not to watch, instead paying attention to the people who approached and the wares in the stalls they passed. 

Wei WuXian’s admission to popo was spread as quickly as word had spread of WangJi and XiChen’s connection to Wei WuXian the day they bought the rattle drum, and people were gentler in their approach to the boy, offering their names and details to help him.

Largely they were met with blank looks and apologies, which they waved off amiably. But occasionally Wei WuXian smiled widely as a shred of memory returned, and he greeted them as well as he could. These moments were precious, he came to see, both to the townspeople and the Jiangs. 

The toy maker they visited greeted him enthusiastically and after a whisper from WangJi, Wei WuXian thanked him for the dizi, bowing properly with his sword. 

“I play it every day,” he told the man, who beamed proudly. “Lan Zhan plays the guqin with me.”

“When we heard you were ill, the wife and I made it with you in mind. You’ll want a proper dizi eventually, but we hoped it’d cheer you up.”

Sect Leader Jiang paused at that.

“A proper dizi?” he asked.

The toy maker bowed to the sect leader.

“For musical cultivation, if young master Wei decides to do that,” he clarified. “I’m afraid I don’t have the skill to craft spiritual tools, only toys.”

Jiang FengMian looked thoughtful, and Jiang YanLi spoke up.

“It would be lovely to learn musical cultivation together with a-Xian, a-die.”

She shared a glance with WangJi, and XiChen realized they had been discussing this matter.

“I’m learning to wield a whip, too, so it makes sense for him to learn that,” Jiang WanYin added.

XiChen realized they were glancing at Madam Yu surreptitiously, and he could guess this was a sore spot.

WangJi once, in a rare moment when Wei WuXian was otherwise occupied, had expressed concern over Madam Yu’s occasional hostility, and XiChen had noticed the same. She seemed to be trying to do better, but from what he had heard from disciples while training on the field, she held resentment for Wei WuXian. She had changed since the attack, but old habits were hard to break.

Madam Yu, though, made a thoughtful noise. 

“He could potentially learn the songs that have helped with the resentful energy. Could that aid in his further recovery?”

XiChen realized the question was directed at him and scrambled to answer.

“I don’t know, but it would give the Jiang sect a second musical cultivator who could help with such matters,” he said, striving both for diplomacy and to help the Jiang siblings and WangJi with their quest.

“Xingan, what do you think?” Sect Leader Jiang asked, looking at Madam Yu.

She blushed when she realized he was speaking to her. The term of endearment seemed to take her by surprise, and she smiled in a way XiChen hadn’t seen before. 

“A spiritual instrument is a good investment in his future cultivation,” she finally said. “I hope to have a-Cheng training with zidian in the next year as well.”

“We’re raising fine children, my lady,” the sect leader said.

Her smile grew, the flush spreading across her face, but she turned to Wei WuXian.

“A-Ying, we’ll find someone to make you a dizi that will serve as a fine spiritual tool.”

The boy smiled up at her, clearly happy with the idea.

“Thank you, shenshen. I’ll work hard.”

“Not too hard until you’re better,” Madam Yu said, patting his head affectionately.

The Jiang siblings shared a triumphant look with WangJi and XiChen caught Jiang FengMian looking at them indulgently—he clearly recognized their plot and had played into it while allowing them to believe they were being sneaky.

XiChen had never seen adults act like that before, but he was certain it instilled confidence in the Jiang siblings and perhaps even WangJi, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was a bit dishonest but with good intentions, an odd grey area. 

The adults approached several stalls and purchased gifts for the children—even WangJi and XiChen, to his surprise. Wei WuXian was given a new guan for his crown, an elegant lotus carved of deep purple lavender jade, something that seemed almost a message, Madam Yu picking it out personally. 

Jiang WanYin received huwan to protect his wrists during whip training, elegant with purple lacing and metal inlaid for extra protection. Maiden Jiang received mortar and pestle for learning to make medicines, crafted of a light lavender jade that had variation in color ranging from white to deep purple. The gifts were clearly meant to show support for their recent cultivation decisions. 

WangJi and XiChen were gifted matching purple and blue tassels with a lovey carved medium-hued lavender jade lotus attached to hang from their belts beside the charms that allowed them in and out Cloud Recesses.

“To remind you of your stay,” Sect Leader Jiang told them.

It seemed he was unaware of the significance of the jade tokens they wore, and of the rule against unnecessary adornments, but XiChen was certain shufu would be fine with them. After all, they were a representation of the connection they had forged to the Jiang sect. 

“And to serve as an entry token if you need to revisit Lotus Cove,” Madam Yu added. “Our disciples will recognize the gift.”

He noticed they had purchased more, and that the seller didn’t have them available publicly, and realized perhaps they did know, even if their tokens didn’t have the same properties as the Lan ones. Likely the extra tokens were for shufu and the healers. 

XiChen examined his, noting the craftsmanship of the lotus, how real, if miniature, each petal seemed. It was set into a silver disc through which the tassel’s cord threaded, held in place with knots and flat paler purple jade beads carved to resemble the Jiang sect flag’s lotus symbol.

WangJi, he saw, was already affixing the token to his belt to hang beside and behind his Lan token. XiChen did the same, then he and WangJi bowed to Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu in thanks for the gifts. 

The tokens didn’t have the Jiang clarity bell the sect wore, but that was unsurprising; unless he or WangJi joined the sect, they would not receive one. Yu ZiYuan had reminded Wei WuXian to don his today, on his first trip out of Lotus Cove, and it hung from his belt.

“I won’t lose it,” he had promised, three fingers raised to make it a vow, that odd far-away quality to his voice. 

Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu had exchanged concerned looks.

“See to it you don’t,” Madam Yu had finally replied, then stepped forward to fuss over the way his robes hung. 

As he had lost weight from his ordeal, they no longer fit properly. Little could be done about that; as the boy recovered, the robes would fit him again, barring a growth spurt. 

The sound of barking jolted XiChen back to the present. Wei WuXian went pale, moving closer to WangJi, hiding his face against his back as though it might hide him from the dog. The Jiang children took positions around him, ensuring he was surrounded and protected. 

“It’s okay, didi,” Jiang WanYin murmured. “You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

XiChen abruptly remembered that Wei WuXian had been attacked by dogs and had scars. The fear was clearly so deep-seated that his amnesia hadn’t removed it.

The dog came into view, a scraggly cur, and a child dashed out from behind a stall to chase it off with a stick, others similarly armed joining from nearby. 

When the dog was gone, the children returned, and XiChen could tell from their appearance they were street kids. 

“Wei-xiong, we chased it away,” the oldest-looking boy called softly. “Sorry we let it get so close.”

When they didn’t get an immediate reply from Wei WuXian, the child looked at the others, six of them who could have ranged between four and eight. The youngest was a little girl, and the rest were boys. 

“Like Wei-xiong taught us,” he said, his voice authoritative. 

The children broke into an approximation of a proper bow.

“Greetings, Jiang-zongzhu and Yu-furen,” the children chanted.

The adults exchanged a look.

“Greetings,” Jiang FengMian returned after what seemed to be a silent conversation between himself and Madam Yu. “You know a-Ying?”

The eldest-looking nodded, clearly having elected to speak for the group. 

“Wei-xiong buys us food and taught us to stick together so the dogs and bad people won’t get us and is teaching us to read and other stuff,” the boy explained. 

From the way the children were peering at Wei WuXian, still hiding behind WangJi, they were terribly worried about their young friend. 

“You’re the ones he plays the dizi to?” XiChen asked gently.

The children nodded.

“What other things was a-Xian teaching you?” Jiang YanLi asked softly.

“Like how to feel qi so we can use it to stay warm in the winter,” the eldest boy replied, then bows quickly and politely. “Jiang-guniang.”

“I miss Wei-xiong,” the little girl said, her voice tremulous. “Is Wei-xiong better now?”

“He might not remember us, a-Lian,” another boy said softly. 

The children had clearly heard the news spreading through Lotus Pier of Wei WuXian’s amnesia.

Wei WuXian peered out from where he had hidden his face against WangJi, cautious despite the dog having been driven away.

“A-Lian,” he murmured, pronouncing the name slowly. “I… I found you. By a lotus pond. You were all wet and crying.”

He stepped out from behind WangJi, moving as though in a trance, lost in a newly returned memory.

“You said your name was a-Jī (圾, trash),” and XiChen couldn’t quite hold in a gasp at a child believing such to be their name. “And so, I said you were a gift from the lotuses and should be named a-Lian.”

The little girl rushed forward, crashing into him.

“Wei-xiong,” she sobbed, her little arms around his waist. “You were gone for so long and they said you were sick, and I was scared.”

Wei WuXian looked dazed and overwhelmed, and XiChen realized that a trickle of blood was oozing from his nose—it hadn’t happened in a few days, but he had been overstimulated today with this outing… 

WangJi also noticed and put an arm around him as he swayed dangerously, keeping him upright. Wei WuXian’s grip loosened on his sword, and Jiang WanYin took it before he could drop it, murmuring that he’d carry it for him. 

To XiChen’s surprise, Madam Yu lifted both Wei WuXian and the urchin girl into her arms. Neither resisted, the boy’s head lolling against her shoulder. She didn’t even bother looking at FengMian. 

“It seems we’ll have a few new disciples, then,” she said, huffing as though irritated, but it had less impact with two children in her arms. “We’ll see whether a-Ying has good instincts, but we certainly can’t have homeless children in Lotus Pier.”

XiChen had to avert his eyes at the intensity of Sect Leader Jiang’s adoring look toward Madam Yu. He clearly approved of her decision, but the level of ardor in the way he looked at her was too much. 

The locals who had gathered murmured amongst themselves, the words of surprise and admiration carrying. That the Jiangs would see fit to solve the problem of street urchins by adopting them into the sect was almost unheard of—but they had done so with Wei WuXian. Why not the urchins of Lotus Pier?

From what XiChen could hear, it raised the admiration of the people toward Jiang FengMian, and their opinion of Madam Yu, who apparently had up to now had a reputation for being cold. But here she was in the marketplace holding Wei WuXian on one hip and a little girl in tattered clothing on the other. It was softening her image to the people and making them doubt the rumors of an unhappy marriage. 

The street children looked confused, uncertain, and Jiang FengMian addressed them more gently. 

“Would you become disciples of the YunMengJiang sect? You would live at Lotus Cove, receive an education, and fed and housed and clothed. Even if you do not have the talent to become cultivators, you would not be homeless,” he told them. “A-Ying and a-Cheng and other older male disciples would be your shixiongmen, and a-Li and other older female disciples would be your shijiemen. You’d also have shidimen and a-Lian would be your shimei.”

The children seemed to realize they were being offered adoption, of a sort, into a martial family. Into the Jiang clan. There was a cautious sort of hope spreading among them. 

“Really?” the oldest boy asked, his voice almost hollow with awe. “You really want us?”

“Young man, we would not offer if we didn’t,” Madam Yj snorted. “If a-Ying is already teaching you to read and how to circulate your qi, we would be remiss if we didn’t continue your education.”

The children looked at each other, their growing excitement obvious. After a moment the eldest boy bowed deeply, almost a kowtow, and the other children rushed to copy him.

“This one thanks Jiang-zongzhu and Yu-furen for your kindness. We unworthy ones are happy to accept your generous offer.”

“Whether you’re unworthy has yet to be determined,” Madam Yu responded sharply, almost a scold at the boy’s self-effacement. “I expect you’ll prove worthy.”

She handed the little girl to Jiang FengMian, who settled her on his hip, so she could get a better grip on Wei WuXian, who seemed barely awake and unable to hold onto her well. One of her maids stepped forward and gently dabbed at his nosebleed with a cloth.

“I think a-Ying has had quite enough excitement for today,” Madam Yu announced, patting his back gently.

“And we have some new disciples to settle in at Lotus Cove,” Jiang FengMian added with a smile. “Time to go home.”

The sect leader offered his free hand to Jiang WanYin, who tried and failed not to look thrilled at his father’s attention as he took it.

Madam Yu’s maids led the way, the children between them, Madam Yu and Jiang FengMian following with the Jiang children in tow. WangJi stayed close to Madam Yu and Wei WuXian, who seemed to have fallen fully asleep, and XiChen focused on following him. The accompanying disciples followed behind him.

XiChen barely noticed the way more people in the market approached to place items in the baskets the disciples carried as they walked back to Lotus Cove, or the way Maiden Jiang thanked each person by name. He was too busy considering what he had witnessed. 

He was aware that many in the cultivation world doubted that commoners could be taught to cultivate, but the very fact that Wei WuXian, a mere ten-year-old, had taught them the basics enough to ensure they could circulate their qi to keep warm… He wondered if perhaps that was just an attempt to keep a sort of class or caste system. There was no benefit to society to have children starve in the streets, as Wei WuXian had, without hope. 

Ren would seem to dictate the need to better the world through acts of altruism like Wei WuXian had been practicing and which had been demonstrated by Madam Yu and Sect Leader Jiang today. XiChen‘s studies had covered multiple philosophers. Mengzi dictated the need to show compassion to orphans. Mozi, though controversial to the Lan for his rejection of music as frivolous, called for inclusive and universal caring, doing so beyond family boundaries. Laozi saw loving through giving as a necessary virtue. 

XiChen was constantly aware of the duties he would eventually take on as clan leader and the rules within the clan he was expected to uphold, but the events of today had him wondering if perhaps he should start thinking about the role of GusuLan in the larger world. Acts of charity, taking in orphans, working to better the world at large.

These thoughts kept him occupied on the walk back, and he was only broken from them by the look on shufu’s face at the unexpected addition to their party—confusion, but also a sort of thoughtfulness as Sect Leader Jiang briefly explained. 

Perhaps shufu was also having similar thoughts. Maybe XiChen could speak with him about them at some point. 

For now, he followed WangJi as he trailed after Madam Yu toward the infirmary. The voice of Jiang FengMian ordering disciples to help settle in their new peers with baths and clothing and a good meal, organizing the new additions to YunMengJiang, faded behind them. 

When Madam Yu left them in the infirmary, Wei WuXian in the care of Healer Kang, the quiet was welcome. The healer settled the boy in his bed after a brief examination. 

Eventually, XiChen realized WangJi was watching him in concern and offered a smile he knew was weak.

“A little overwhelmed,” he said, and knew WangJi, who so often was overwhelmed by the noise and furor of the world, understood.

WangJi gestured, settling on a cushion near the table in a meditation pose, and XiChen smiled, mirroring him.

He had time to ruminate on the events of the day and how they might inform his future actions. The best course for the moment was to find grounding and calm while they waited for the chaos that had overtaken Lotus Cove to settle. 

[ambitionsource]

wait i actually have more weirdly specific questions (if ur up to it) - how do the kids feel about poetry? do they follow any sports? what childhood tv shows were their favs? do they have celebrity crushes? fav coming of age movie? how are they doing in quarantine? what time in history were they obsessed w as a kid? have they ever been to summer camp? what type of candles do they like? what song do they cry to? how do they drink their coffee/tea sorry if u’ve answered already/too many questions

wooooo thank you for your patience iz!! we’re gonna go point by point

poetry?

charlie loves it genuinely and will read it for fun. riley likes it enough but doesn’t go out of her way to read it. farkle loves coming up with insane explanations for the metaphors and is smug about interpreting it in class. zay doesn’t care for it, neither does lucas. asher appreciates it but finds it boring; dylan likes it for the same reason farkle does, only not to look smart but to come up with something completely crackheaded to combat farkle’s interpretation (which he can’t then say isn’t correct, bc its poetry, so all interpretations are valid!). isa doesn’t like it because she doesn’t get the metaphors on paper the same way she can pick them up in film. maya hates it even though multiple people have pointed out that song lyrics are basically poetry -- she will tune you out.

sports?

sports aren’t Big at aaa (aside from dance), but there are remnants here and there. riley follows basketball of course -- even tho as demonstrated in 110, she cannot play it to save herself -- and she tried out for cheer in 9th grade at her old school but was rejected from the squad (another bad mark on a terrible year). farkle prefers wii sports over any actual sport, but will sometimes watch golf with stuart because it’s quality time with his very busy father. charlie did soccer when he was younger before it got phased out by dance and semi keeps up with it. dylan also “played” soccer, but this meant the other little league teammates getting pissed at him bc he never paid attention to the game and was just like “hey! hey, dennis, look at this!” and did like 3 cartwheels across the field. it was a smart move when randall pulled him from the team bc those intense soccer moms were gonna like beat them up fDJSKG. so now dylan is just an unofficial gymnast instead.

isa doesn’t like sports but played them a lot with foster siblings, and even though she sucks she gets very competitive. lucas liked baseball and was good at track in middle school, but he never thought about doing a sport for real because he knew he was going to quincy eventually where his dad is a coach... yeah. no. but he’s great at running fast from the police!

maya hates sports (aside from the art of dance). waste of time, waste of energy. asher has never done a sport nor ever contemplated a sport. the most Sport he’s endured is going with jade to support dave at his swim meets (where nigel also does swim) and suffice to say, asher wasn’t there to look at the swimming.

childhood tv?

dylan to this day is a spongebob squarepants STAN. legend, icon, scholar, best television show ever made, in his opinion. he also was well-versed in pokemon, adventure time, gravity falls, and phineas and ferb. asher and lucas both didn’t watch lots of tv growing up (if at all), so dylan considers it his job to give asher a thorough education in the quality tv he missed as a kid.

maya was all over hannah montana (miley is still a role model to this day for her), and she, zay, and charlie all remember the fever dream that was shake it up. zay especially loved it bc he was (is) obsessed with zendaya. zay and maya both also watched victorious. charlie was sharing a tv with four siblings so he just ended up watching whatever the dominant sister that day wanted to watch. riley was a disney channel girl, and farkle was a pbs scholar (arthur, cyber chase, fetch! with ruff ruff man... classics).

 celebrity crushes?

zay = zendaya (as previously mentioned). charlie = harry styles to a major degree, although his Cover Story would be zendaya if you asked (ironically). maya = britney spears (but in a I Want To Be Her way, major idolization rather than attraction) and technically the same for valerie de la cruz but like... rip to that lmao. isa = loki, yes we know, but sometimes it be that way (altho that does extend a little bit towards tom hiddleston in general). asher = logan lerman, aka the main valid white boy who dresses nice, is polite and soft-spoken, and minds his own business (not to mention he is the Same Type as dylan). dylan = had crushes more on like... personalities so like ash ketchum and percy jackson, and now its irrelevant bc he met asher and became obsessed and its like every other potential crush just flew out the window of his brain. it’s full asher territory in there nowadays.

riley doesn’t have a specific one, she thinks lots of people are Pretty but no one particularly strongly. farkle doesn’t have one because he’s insane and doesn’t have the mental capacity. lucas doesn’t have one because he’s demi and also hates most celebrities as people.

coming-of-age movie?

maya’s is mean girls. farkle’s is ladybird. zay’s is easy a. riley’s is bend it like beckham. isadora’s is eighth grade. charlie’s is dead poet’s society. asher’s is perks of being a wallflower. dylan’s is spiderman: into the spiderverse. lucas doesn’t know movies.

quarantine?

we’ve somewhat discussed this before, but ultimately es and i elected to let aaa remain in a nice, calm universe where they don’t have to endure covid. lucky them. blow a kiss to the ether for us, buds,

fave time in history?

riley is huge on ancient greece and greek mythology. maya loves the theatricality and Drama of the roaring 20s (a baby flapper at heart). zay vibes hard with the 80s. charlie likes the fashion and romanticism and music and art of the 70s (that sort of flowery positivity clashing with the rebelliousness of the movements of the 60s... yeah. that hits something in him). farkle’s is the great depression not only bc he’s an emo but also all the raw and desperate art that came out of it. isadora was a egyptian mythology kid. i know lucas sounds lame (he is), but i don’t think he cares about history -- but if pushed he’d probably say the 90s bc he dresses like he’s straight out of there, everyone was angry rocking, and he wasn’t born. asher likes the victorian era bc of the sheer elegance and Aesthetic to everything. dylan doesn’t have a favorite time period because due to being the subconscious multiverse conduit (i.e. the being that is somewhat connected to every other version of himself) sometimes he wakes up and for a minute he doesn’t even know what year it is 🤪anyway...

summer camp?

charlie has been to many a christian youth summer camp. zay went to the kossal program, but that was basically it. lucas no although he probably wished he could be anywhere else during the summer sometimes including a camp he would hate. riley went for a few years in elementary school. isa has gone to a couple of “foster kid” summer camp bonding things that she despised. farkle went to jewish summer camp One time and was like that was HORRIBLE, never make me spend a whole summer outside AGAIN. asher was more of a Enrichment courses at the rec center during the summer kid than a camper. dylan no because the orlandos couldn’t afford something like that. same for maya.

candles?

riley has a small variety of scented ones that are like... warm scents, like cinnamon and stuff. asher a couple that smell like clean linen but his fear of accidental fires keeps him from ever lighting them. maya has one and it smells like “star power,” a gift from her mom one christmas. isadora can’t have any because many of her foster homes don’t allow them. lucas legally shouldn’t be allowed anything that catches on fire. dylan doesn’t have one but similarly should not be given one. the minki have a whole collection for different things so farkle can just pluck one at any time if he needs one like for a super fancy bath or whatever the fuck rich people do.

mental breakdown song?

charlie’s are “falling” and “from the dining table” by harry styles.

riley’s is “manhattan” by sara bareilles and “rainbow” by kacey musgraves.

zay’s are “imagine” by ariana and “dear life” from the step up soundtrack (post zc breakup).

farkle’s are “vienna” by billy joel and “get it right” from glee.

asher’s is “don’t cry” by ruel.

isa’s is “you are my sunshine” because valerie used to sing it to her a lot when she was really little, so it will always make her a little emotional.

dylan’s (although rare) are “soon you’ll get better” by ts and “make you feel my love” by adele. the second one is because his mom loved adele when she was just starting out bc 19 was released the same year that she passed away so there’s a lot of like subconscious association there even if he doesn’t realize it.

maya doesn’t have one, and lucas also doesn’t have one because in the rare moments he does cry its in his closet in the dark silence alone bc he literally can’t stand the sentience of knowing he’s crying so. sensory blackout.

coffee / tea?

riley will add at least 3 sugars to anything, but she’s ultimately an iced tea gal. lucas drinks it black but only because it never occurred to him to add anything to it and so it’s a big wake up call when he realizes you can drink it and have it NOT be bitter and horrible and demoralizing ( “i thought we were all just suffering for the caffeine fix??” ). isa is a tea girl mostly, although she wishes she could drink black coffee for the aesthetic (and hates that lucas can... it’s like... he didn’t even Earn that aestheticism, smh). asher doesn’t drink caffeine bc it makes him Jittery (and he’s already jittery) so he’s like... the lemonade bitch at coffee shops which kin, and then dylan definitely drinks caffeine but not thru coffee, he’s more likely to get like a hot chocolate.

farkle lives on coffee but he can only drink it from home because they’re rich and can have like fresh ground good imported whatever the heck etc etc so he’s like spoiled about coffee. zay will hit up a starbucks now and then and will order coffee at a diner, but he’s not too attached either way. maya is a fun n free starbucks gal with her frappes and lattes and lots of cream (whipped or otherwise). charlie doesn’t drink coffee or tea bc hes hyper aware of his body and health (he doesn’t really have soda either) and it was frowned upon in his house.

[nobodyfamousposts]

The Case of a Guardian

Oh, Fu. What can I say about Fu?

I got in late on the Miraculous parade so when someone finally introduced mw to the series, I was started off with the Origins two-parter where I got to see Master Fu first thing rather than going a good 2/3rds of the first season just seeing him randomly hiding in the background before it’s shown that he’s actually relevant. So I can only imagine how the slow build up to his reveal must have been like for fans of the series who were watching from the very beginning. For most of you, it was probably more of a surprise that there actually WAS a Guardian at all than that it was HIM specifically.

Fu’s official appearance into the conflict should have by all counts been something major. This was hampered somewhat by Princess Fragrance where he tried to appear like an ordinary healer who had no other significance. Depending on your perspective, he was either acting like a fool who didn’t know what he was really healing or he was being obviously oblivious to the fact that this “cat” was clearly abnormal and could FLY for the sake of plausible deniability in true “wink wink, nudge nudge” fashion. Either way, the potential “big reveal” set to take place later on isn’t quite as big since it’s immediately obvious that he is no normal healer and it should have been cause for Marinette to question it more. At least in her defense, she had more pressing issues at the time, but it was really not a surprise after this point that if there WAS a Guardian, it was clearly bound to be the old Chinese guy Tikki specifically told Marinette to take her to who was able to heal Tikki by ringing a gong.

It’s possible that it was intentional foreshadowing, but this is missing the whole “shadow” part of the term in that it’s obvious.

That seemed to set the stage for Fu’s introduction and then future relevance to the overall plot. And unfortunately, it wasn’t quite a good stage and as the play continued, it becomes ever more clear that the director needed more lessons.

When Fu was finally revealed to be the Guardian, they seemed to try to play him up to be a mentor figure and potential source of answers we’d all been waiting for. He was in a perfect position to not only give answers, but DIRECTION for where the story would go from here. Because now that we have the Guardian involved, surely he could at the very least give more insight—whether on finding Hawk Moth, weaknesses of the Miraculous, their history and effect on the world, or ways to boost their strength and abilities.

What we ended up with was something of the bare bones as far as ANY of that goes. He manages to make the transformation potions, so there’s that. His explanation of the history of the Miraculous is more of a brief overview of his own backstory. He DOESN’T explain anything about the Miraculous having weaknesses or really the powers of any of the other Miraculous that they could use—or that they could use TWO at the same time in a sort of mix-and-match fashion, which would have been VERY useful to know. He holds off on explaining WHY anyone would want the Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculous specifically and the issues with the BIG WISH that could warp reality until Robustus comes along and specifically mentions it when he should have already KNOWN what Hawk Moth was really after by this point.

The worst of this, however, is the lack of direction when it comes to the overall goal of the heroes to FIND Hawk Moth—which should by all counts be their central goal. While he does give some hintings as to who Hawk Moth could be, it’s more of a vague pointing in a general direction which doesn’t seem to be taken seriously or followed up on. While part of that is on Marinette for not being upfront with Fu about her suspicions initially, Fu himself knows by the end that Gabriel Agreste is suspicious and that his sudden and convenient akumatization at the time of his being a potential suspect doesn’t mean he’s NOT Hawk Moth. But rather than follow up on this potential lead, he does absolutely NOTHING with this knowledge—even going so far as to go into the lion’s den on his own and put himself at risk of being discovered by his enemy just to reveal himself to the man’s son in the man’s OWN HOME. This…seems like a major disaster waiting to happen. What if there had been cameras? What if Nathalie or the Gorilla had been listening in? While he did choose Adrien as Chat Noir, he KNOWS Gabriel is suspicious as hell and rather than approach Adrien in a more neutral place, he waltzes in to the kid’s own home where his biggest suspect happens to live, lets them see his face, and assumes nothing will come of it.

Remember the whole Hawk Moth issue that I mentioned before? Where he’s hiding in a secret place and the heroes are stuck and can’t make progress on their goal because they can’t reasonably try to search for him and he can’t be found? THAT IS WHAT FU SHOULD BE DOING! This is especially important given what we know of who Fu is and what he has been noted to have experienced.

The guy is almost 200 years old. The only survivor of his Order. Guardian of the Miraculous. The one defense protecting magical items that can SERIOUSLY FUCK SHIT UP if they fall into the wrong hands—which is all the more important because it’s clear that two at least already have.

So what exactly is his logic for any of the decisions he’s made so far?

Think back to Origins when Hawk Moth first transformed with evil intent. As soon as Nooroo was activated in this way and well before the first akuma appeared, Wayzz alerted Fu immediately. So Fu KNOWS that the Butterfly Miraculous has been found, that it has been found by someone who is specifically evil, and that something bad is bound to happen.

So what does he do?

Does this man—who was previously shown to have escaped Paris when the Nazis invaded to avoid a similar problem—escape Paris immediately before this new villain can figure out he was ever there and try to hunt him down, thus making Hawk Moth’s tantrum and attacking Paris to draw out the Miraculous completely pointless? No.

Does he track down his old ally he KNOWS is in Paris, KNOWS is aware of him and the Miraculous, and KNOWS would be fully willing and able to work with him to take this new villain down and retrieve the stolen Miraculous? No.

Does he look through all the people he’s no doubt met and gotten to know over his time in Paris to find a suitable user who is capable of fighting and who he would have some background with to have reason to trust with an item of such great power? …Wait, does he even know people?

Does he use the Miraculous he has—if not to fight himself, then to at least try to track down WHERE the akumas are coming from so he can confront Hawk Moth directly or otherwise sneak into his lair and make off with the stolen Miraculous and Book? Oh my, no!

Does he at least send out two different Miraculous that aren’t BOTH the most powerful ones that when combined can alter reality and possibly be what the villain is after? No.

So…what does this GUARDIAN of the Miraculous—ancient and all powerful artifacts that he is supposed to GUARD decide to do?

He gives both of the most powerful Miraculous at his disposal to two teenagers he’s only just met after they pass his “secret test of courtesy”.

Now reasonably, Fu could not have known at the time he sent them out that Hawk Moth’s goal WAS the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous in order to make the wish. But if they are the strongest Miraculous he has and when together can be used to make a wish that can really upset that all so important balance of the universe, WHY is he sending them out TOGETHER? 

Even assuming that they WEREN’T what the Big Bad was after, it was still practically begging for them to be targets of the bad guys and get stolen. Even if Hawk Moth didn’t know they could be used together to make a wish, he would have known enough to know they were Miraculous and that taking them out would at least get the heroes out of his hair—then if he did eventually get both, he’d find out about that wish soon enough ANYWAY.

In addition—and I think I hate this part in particular because I adore Plagg and I love Adrien as Chat Noir but—WHY was the Black Cat in particular sent out? Ladybug, at least, had just cause.  Fu knew from the start that it was the Butterfly Miraculous being misused and the Ladybug Miraculous is currently noted as being the only one that could purify the akuma and restore the damage done by the battle. So if one of the two MOST IMPORTANT Miraculous HAD to be sent out, it makes sense it would be the Ladybug.

But…why the Black Cat? Sure, it can destroy anything it touches in whatever way the wielder wishes, but wouldn’t a Miraculous that can shield people or paralyze the main akuma be much more useful? Several times, the Cataclysm has been used to destroy the akuma’s object, but the objects in question are those that could reasonably be destroyed in other ways. We’ve SEEN Ladybug snap roller skates in half without effort—most of the items aren’t that much more difficult to break. The Black Cat could have been held in reserve in case of an emergency. And yes, sure, we could argue about that ever important “balance” and how Ladybug/Black Cat are yin and yang, but if it means lessening the chance of them both being taken and used for evil, why not go for something else?

There is another point of concern—and this is the BIG one. WHY TEENAGERS? Meta-wise, we know it’s because they want the show to appeal to younger audiences and that’s generally done with younger main characters. I get that, really. But in the canon that they created, they need to justify that and they just…don’t. If anything, they make all the argument for why Fu should have given the Miraculous to adults. Teenage drama and hormones and issues aside, it has been a clear point made in canon that the Miraculous just work better for adults. It’s not a matter of experience, it’s a matter of AGE. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t trapped by a time limit because they’re still starting out, it’s because they’re both still 14. Hawk Moth isn’t avoiding those very pitfalls because he’s had his Miraculous for a good year with plenty of time to test it and know how it properly works, it’s because he’s old enough for his stint in villainy to count as his mid-life crisis.

Fu is the GUARDIAN. He has had these items for several decades and is clearly a user himself. HE SHOULD KNOW THIS! So why did he think it would be a good idea to pit teenagers under a severe handicap against a grown man with power, position, and apparently all the free time he could need to create monsters on a daily basis without it ruining his regular routine?

The problem is that Fu could have done many things here. He had OPTIONS! There are many things that he as the Guardian should have known he could do. And things that given his character as a person who has an extensive history and a lot of unresolved guilt for the past, he should have chosen to do.

We all know that Fu is capable of mistakes. There is nothing wrong with that. But given that he is directly responsible for the fall of his Order and loss of everyone he’d known, one would think these mistakes would instill a bit more healthy paranoia in the man.

Like not giving out two of the most powerful Miraculous in his care at the same time and risk losing both.

Or realizing the inherent issue of giving the Miraculous to children when he knows they can’t utilize its full power based solely on their age when they are going are up against an adult who CAN.

Or the potential problems of just leaving those children to their own devices for the better part of a year during which they can’t make progress in finding the villain they’re supposed to defeat because they don’t know what to look for.

And especially why he should NOT go and outright show his his face to the person he has every reason to suspect IS the villain just to reveal secrets to the man’s son in his home, especially when said son could very well be put into a bad position and end up rather conflicted about the whole thing because of it.

Fu is a complicated character. One I truly like and furthermore WANT to like. The problem is that the series doesn’t seem to be sure just what it’s trying to set Fu up to be.

On the one hand, they seemed to be going for the basic “wise mentor” trope and have him be a potential source of answers and lore that we’d all be waiting for. Marinette certainly has been shown to go to him for advice on occasion. But the answers have been lackluster for the most part and only given out when it’s convenient for the plot of the day instead of immediately—like waiting until Robustus to tell Marinette the reason why someone would want both Miraculous, which is something she and Chat probably should have been told sooner so they could understand the seriousness of the situation. Or maybe just telling the kids anything from the start so they could plan accordingly. You know, things a wise mentor type would do.

While trying for the wise mentor achetype, at the same time they seem to be setting him up as a character who is in a role he isn’t fit for and honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing with. Part of this seems intentional. When Marinette finally approaches him in a legitimate “Karate Kid meeting Mr. Miyagi” fashion, Fu comes right out and tells her his backstory and that he ISN’T quite the perfect mentor or source of answers she’s seeking. He explains pretty quickly that he was just a young initiate in the Order and from the sounds of it, had not completed his training before he made the “mistake” that caused the loss of the Order and two of the Miraculous. There is kind of a sense of him knowing little more than anyone else and trying to make do the best he can even as he’s teaching the next generation.

This makes for an intriguing character concept and interesting take on the normal mentor/student dynamics in that they both seem to be learning from each other. This isn’t bad. It’s actually pretty engaging.

But the problem is that Fu clearly knows more than Marinette does and for some strange reason isn’t applying the knowledge he has to the overall situation at hand. He isn’t picking people who can make the most use of the Miraculous he is handing out. He isn’t actually training the two kids he chose to pull into this life. For pretty much the entirety of Season 1, he left Ladybug and Chat Noir to try and get by on their own with no guidance and no real direction or plan in dealing with the madman terrorizing their city.

Normally in these sorts of situations where you have the Wise Mentor VS the Big Bad in an overarching storyline like this, they should be playing a sort of game of Battleship—I know Chess tends to be the go-to motif, but in this case it’s not about pawns and pieces but instead is about finding where the other person is hiding and taking them down. They each should be looking into each other, trying to find the other in order to be the one to get the advantage. What we see here is that whatever bits of advantage either of these two get, it’s completely a matter of convenience rather than what either of them actually DO.

Fu finds out Gabriel might be a suspect because Tikki discovered the book and had Marinette bring it to his attention.

Gabriel doesn’t “find” so much as assumes there’s a Guardian in Paris because Ladybug and Chat Noir suddenly get the “power” to breath and fight underwater. He also discovers there are more Miraculous available thanks to Chloe’s very public transformation into Queen Bee, and that there are more kwamis as well as a hint of their possible general location because of their unfortunately timed attempt to reach out to Nooroo (ignoring that the kwamis should very well have known it was a pretty big risk in the first place and had every chance of happening).

For both of them, any gains they make are precisely because of what others do or inadvertently hand them rather than what either of them actually do or try to find for themselves.

Of the two, Gabriel is acting based on assumptions that only happen to turn out to be right. Assuming the Miraculous would just show up in Paris if he started to terrorize the city and assuming the ones to show up would be the specific ones he wanted. The fact that Fu ended up playing right into those assumptions while putting his own side at a greater risk in the process says less about Gabriel’s planning and more about Fu’s lack of it.

What it boils down to is that Fu is an interesting character. But as a Guardian, he’s doing a poor job. As it stands, I’m hard pressed to believe his claim to Wayzz that he’s only made one mistake.

[sciencespies]

Here's Why This Smithsonian Scientist Studies Ancient Pathogens

https://sciencespies.com/nature/heres-why-this-smithsonian-scientist-studies-ancient-pathogens/

Here's Why This Smithsonian Scientist Studies Ancient Pathogens

Smithsonian Voices National Museum of Natural History

Get to Know the Scientist Studying Ancient Pathogens at the Smithsonian

April 14th, 2020, 6:00AM / BY

Margaret Osborne

Sabrina Sholts is the curator of biological anthropology at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History. (Paul Fetters, Smithsonian)

Meet a SI-entist: The Smithsonian is so much more than its world-renowned exhibits and artifacts. It is a hub of scientific exploration for hundreds of researchers from around the world. Once a month, we’ll introduce you to a Smithsonian Institution scientist (or SI-entist) and the fascinating work they do behind the scenes at the National Museum of Natural History.

When Dr. Sabrina Sholts curated the exhibition “Outbreak: Epidemics in a Connected World” in 2018,” she never imagined that two years later, the museum would close because of a coronavirus pandemic.

As a biological anthropologist focused on health, diseases are part of Sholts’ specialty. Sholts studies how human, animal and environmental health are connected, lately focusing on our microbiome—the communities of microorganisms that thrive on and inside our bodies – along with the pathogens that can cause illness.

Sholts tells us more about her work at the National Museum of Natural History and the “Outbreak” exhibition and gives advice to the next generation of scientists in the following interview.

Can you describe what you do as curator of biological anthropology at the museum?

I study the biological aspects of humanity – the biological molecules, structures, and interactions that are involved in being human. I’m particularly interested in health. It’s fascinating how we can understand disease as an expression of how we interact with our environment — the environment being pretty much everything that’s not our bodies. So from metals in our water, soil and food to microbes that are not only part of us and good for us, but also those that can be harmful.

My research can be a bit diverse, but for me, it’s easy to see the themes — I’m looking at connections between human, animal and environmental health to understand how human impact on ecosystems can affect us.

What are you working on right now?

I’ve got a great group of students in my lab right now, Rita Austin, Andrea Eller, Audrey Lin and Anna Ragni – as well as wonderful colleagues across the museum. We’re doing a few different things.

One large project that’s been going on for several years is looking at indicators of health and disease in our primate collections from different human-modified environments. Andrea conceived the project, and we’re looking at how we might relate some of those conditions to changes in the microbiome.

I’m also working with Audrey and fellow curator Logan Kistler on ancient pathogen research using the museum’s vertebrate zoology collections. We’re interested in the evolutionary history of some human viruses that originate in wildlife, like the one that caused the 1918 influenza pandemic.

Some of my work is what we call bioarcheology. It’s the study of human remains in archeological contexts. I was recently in Amman with my colleagues Wael Abu Azizeh and Rémy Crassard, where I was looking at an ancient skeleton that they excavated as part of their ongoing expedition in southern Jordan. Bones and teeth can provide more information about the diet, health, and movement of people in the past.

Sholts works on an archaeological skeleton in Jordan. (Rémy Crassard)

How has your research changed since the COVID-19 pandemic?

We can’t go into the museum, we can’t access specimens, we can’t use our labs and we can’t go into the field. We can’t do a lot of the things we’ve come to rely on for the research that we’ve been trained to do.

But already you see people adapting, brainstorming and really trying to work around these challenges in new ways. So we’re having these virtual conversations, and thinking about how we can continue with our research in creative ways. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I’m forming new, virtual collaborations – not just for doing science but also in communicating its role in all of this.

What excites you about working at the Smithsonian?

I’ve got the perfect combination of doing really exciting research, and also being able to see and experience how it can be shared. I didn’t imagine when I got the job that I would become so passionate about outreach and connecting to the public through our programs and our exhibits — we can impact people in so many ways.

Do you have a favorite item in the collection or one that sticks out to you at the moment?

That’s a really hard thing to ask a curator. We spend so much time researching collection items and writing papers based on our findings. Some scientists compare publishing a paper to giving birth. You can get very attached to every single one of these publications and whatever they’re about.

So we’ve just “birthed” another one. It’s about the cranium of a chimpanzee, which we came across in our survey of the primate collections. It’s notable because there are tooth marks on it that suggest that it was chewed on by a somewhat large mammalian carnivore, maybe a leopard. Along the way, we gave it a cute name — we call it “Chimp Chomp.” The paper, literally called “A Chomped Chimp,” just came out. I have to say, seeing all the lovely photos, right now, that’s probably my favorite.

What are you most proud of accomplishing so far in your career?

I’m very proud of what we’ve done with the “Outbreak” exhibit. Particularly because of its “One Health” message and huge network of supporters and partners that we convened. The exhibit shows people how and why new diseases emerge and spread, and how experts work together across disciplines and countries to lower pandemic risks.

A pandemic is certainly not something that we knew would happen during the exhibit’s run. You hope an exhibit like that won’t become so relevant as it has with the COVID-19 outbreak. But I’m grateful that it’s prepared me to help the public understand what’s going on right now and communicate the science of it.

Sholts works with her team to develop content for the “Outbreak” exhibition. (Sally Love, Smithsonian)

What advice would you give to your younger self or to the next generation of biological anthropologists?

Appreciate the value of having someone to guide you and mentor you — someone who really cares about you. Understand its significance and carry that relationship throughout your career, if you can.

And be open-minded. Don’t be afraid to work at the intersections of where disciplines and fields traditionally divide us. Have conversations that may put you at a disadvantage in terms of what you know, or what’s familiar, but from which you can learn a lot and hear different perspectives. Embrace a broad skill set and a really diverse community of peers and partners.

Why is having a diverse community of peers important?

We need different ideas. We need to see things from every possible angle to get the most out of anything we study, learn and understand. I think that if you only interact with and listen to people who are like you, you limit the kinds of conversations you have. You’re going to miss some other valuable ways of looking at things.

Sholts looks at data from a CT scan with colleagues at the National Museum of Natural History. (Smithsonian)

Have you had any mentors or role models that helped get you where you are today? Is that something that you think about now that you’re at the top of your field?

I’ve had a number of really significant mentors and guides on this journey, going all the way back to even before high school. I credit them all.

When I was a student, I was operating with so much support. I had the independence to pursue something that I was interested in. That’s something I try to do with my students: give them the freedom, flexibility and encouragement to really pursue their interests as they grow.

I take very seriously the privilege to be able to support such amazing young scientists and to facilitate the incredible work that they’re doing and that we can do together.

Related stories: ‘One Health’ Could Prevent the Next Coronavirus Outbreak Meet the Smithsonian’s Newest Chief Scientist New Smithsonian Exhibit Spotlights ‘One Health’ to Reduce Pandemic Risks

Margaret Osborne is an intern in the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History’s Office of Communications and Public Affairs. Her journalism has appeared in the Sag Harbor Express and aired on WSHU public radio. Margaret is an undergraduate at Stony Brook University, where she majors in journalism and German language and literature and minors in environmental studies. She’s spending her last semester in Washington, D.C. and will graduate in May.

More From This Author »

#Nature

[korora12]

Tagged by @corisanna

1. What is your favorite relationship type to write/read? Romantic, platonic, familial, and any subtypes.

I like romantic relationships that don’t rely solely or primarily on physical attraction, but instead on a deep similarity between the two characters. I like when two people meet eyes and realize that “You understand me. You get me better than anyone else I’ve ever met, and I feel less lonely knowing that someone else sees the world the same way I do.”

2. How much or what kind of research do you do for your fiction? If you don’t write, has a fic ever made you curious enough to research something?

Only as much as is necessary. I usually use research as a springboard for inspiration when I hit a block, letting myself wander the fields of Wikipedia until I stumble upon something that knocks the block loose.

Of course, sometimes I research stuff just for fun, with no relation to my writing whatsoever, until some random point down the line where it suddenly does and I’m super happy I already know [Random Fact #237].

3. What was the first work of fiction you remember becoming completely engrossed in?

Hmm. Probably Animorphs. I remember doing everything I could to hunt down the numerous books in the series (back in the ancient, pre-Amazon Prime days). I’d prowl the various school and public libraries near me, ask for specific books in the series for Christmas and birthdays, and even buy the occasional book at the yearly Scholastic Book Fairs, using what little money I got for an allowance.

I made it most of the way through the series, but then there was one book, near the end, that I couldn’t find, no matter how hard I looked. And it was an important, plot-changing, book that I had to read before continuing. Which meant I never actually finished the series.

Of course, nowadays you can find them all online as pdfs. Maybe I should revisit the series sometime and finally finish it. I already know how it ends, but I still feel like those last few books deserve to be read.

4. What work(s) had a lasting influence on you or your writing style?

Going back to Animorphs again. There is a straight-line connection between me reading that series as a child, through my elementary school friends Brooke, who was obsessed with dogs, and Caitlin, who was even more obsessed with dolphins (I used to find pictures of dolphins in magazines and cut them out just to give to her), through my Grandma’s love of science, all the way to my decision to study Zoology in college. If I had never read those books, I wouldn’t have developed the passion for animals and animal behavior that has shaped my life for over two decades.

Also, stylistically speaking, I really respect that series for how it treated its readers. Its target audience was grade schoolers, and yet it never shied away from showing the realities of violence and war. I don’t know that I’ll ever write children’s literature, but I’ll always have this series to remind me of what kids are capable of understanding and handling.

5. What kind of sound environment do you prefer for writing/reading? Silent, white noise, music with/without words, sitting in a public place with the ambient noise of humanity, etc.

Depends on how well my brain is cooperating. Pure silence is ideal, but more often than not there’s some manner of song stuck on repeat in the background of my mind, and the only way to drown it out is with non-lyrical music of some sort. Usually I try to pick songs that match the mood of whatever scene I’m trying to write.

6. Are you or do you like authors who are teases, in story or out?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m a big fan of the Death of the Author trope, so I tend not to get too worked up by whatever the author may be saying and just let the story speak for itself.

My first instinct is to say that an author shouldn’t worry too much about what their fans think and should write the story they want to write, and it will find readers that appreciate it. However, I recognize that the nature of serial online writing, such as fanfiction, changes the game a bit. Such authors have a much more immediate, direct connection with their readers than authors who release one or two physical books every year or so. Some authors take that to an extreme, turning stories almost into a dialogue with their readers, each new chapter in some way defined by how people reacted to the previous one. And that doesn’t even touch on Quests, a type of story on forums sites such as Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity that require player input on a regular basis to continue. In these types of situations, I can hardly blame an author for playing with their readers heads a bit. The reactions they have can be a form of entertainment all their own.

7. Have you ever experienced a “the characters write themselves” or “character rebellion” mental state?

Not yet. For the time being, I remain in complete control of my universes, but I recognize the hubris of assuming this to be a permanent state.

8. Do you have a favorite franchise crossover? Like Bleach/Harry Potter, Madoka Magica/Card Captor Sakura, etc.

I don’t know if I have a particular favorite. I was really fond of Secret Trio for a while, which is Danny Phantom, American Dragon Jake Long, and Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja. I’m still very fond of the Disney/Square Enix megacrossover that is Kingdom Hearts, despite being very disappointed in the most recent game in the series. Then there’s Kino’s Journey/Anything, mostly because I love Kino’s Journey, and I love seeing her response/reaction to various other worlds.

Also, Stargate/Anything. The only reason I ever started watching the show was because I’d read several different fics, all in different fandoms (Avatar, Yu-Gi-Oh, Star Wars, Naruto), and all of which crossed over with Stargate. Despite the similarities, both being sci-fi stories set around the turn of the millennium involving mind-controlling aliens, I’ve yet to see a good Stargate/Animorphs crossover. It’d be pretty easy to do, too. There’s a point in the Animorphs series where they decide to bring knowledge of their guerrilla war to the attention of the US government. If they’re already in the Stargate universe, I’m sure the president will quickly pass the problem along to the experts, and suddenly you’ve got the perfect setup of adults who think they know how to handle the problem, are mostly right, and don’t want kids fighting in a war, vs child soldiers who have no intention of giving up the fight so near its end, even if the adults are more competent than they expected.

I’m gonna have to write it myself, one of these days, if no one else gets around to doing it.

9. Do you remember anything about the first fanfic you ever read?

Two Halves by DameWren. My first fandom was Naruto, and my first fanfic was a NaruHina fic that both introduced me to the concept of fandom, and also sold the ship for me in a way that I’ve never shaken. I remember very little beyond that, except that it managed to correctly predict that Naruto would go on a training trip, despite being written before such an event happened in canon.

10. Is there a work of fiction that you are annoyed doesn’t have much if any fic? Like Bizenghast.

Kino’s Journey, Cowboy Bebop, Double Arts (just never got enough attention in general)

11. What fictional character do you strongly identify with?

Weiss Schnee, from RWBY. While I’ve never been accused of being rich, I am a middle child with a much older sister that cut ties with the family when I was young and a younger brother that I never got along with while growing up. My parents were also abusive, my father physically and both of them emotionally, and they taught me a number of unhealthy ideas about race, amongst other things, that I’ve had to put serious effort into unlearning. And I have, since becoming an adult, traveled long distances across the world, partially for my own benefit, and partially to distance myself physically from a family I’ve never felt particularly close to, resulting in a drastic personality shift that took a couple years to complete, but ultimately left me a very different, and much better, person.

So, yeah, Weiss is basically my favorite RWBY character, and one I really need to write more often, all things considered.

That was fun! I’ve never been tagged in anything like this before. My turn for questions!

1. What is your the most recent fandom you’ve gotten involved in? Have you made any content for it?

2. Do you have a favorite AU/plotline that you love regardless of fandom (ie. Peggy Sue, Coffee Shop AU, Space AU, Self-Insert)? What about it do you like?

3. If you write, how do you go about deciding a character’s sexuality? If not, do you ever have any sexuality headcanons for characters?

4. What’s the longest fanfic that you’ve ever read, beginning to end?

5. How often do you make something you’re proud of? Doesn’t have to be writing, just has to be something that wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t made it yourself.

6. What are your opinions on OCs in fanfiction?

7. What is your favorite storytelling medium (ie. television, written word, spoken word, video games, song, etc.)?

8. What was the last song you had stuck in your head, and what was it about?

9. Do you prefer reading/writing stories set in fictional worlds, or stories set in the real world/real world analogous (ie. Supernatural or Marvel Comics)?

10. If you could bring one fictional character into the real world, who would it be and why?

11. Pick your favorite of the questions I was asked to answer for yourself.

I just realized that I don’t know how many of my followers are writers. I guess @hunkygoddess @tmifangirl21 @queendarktigress @ladyvallhalla @i-mushi @xekstrin @shinobicyrus and anyone else who sees this and might be interested. No pressure, it’s just for fun!