#thankful for the experience of a back-breaking job because i can further empathize with my fellow humans on top of pain-inspo

[citrine-elephant]

i gotta dissociate from this job a bit because it isn't that fun, but thinking about 1)the exercise (cannot wait for the GAINZ) and 2)the painful whump inspiration, is keeping me going.

one fun thing i see explored in whump is realistic damage. longterm effects, scars, shit like that?

one of my coworkers seems to have permanent nerve damage. says he drops shit all the time and can't feel his fingers.

anyways the moral of this story is unionize.

[azucanela]

prologue

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption. cursing.

word count: 3k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows. 

series masterlist

THE NIGHT OF THE GALA, it quickly came to Y/N’s attention that she definitely should not have waited til the last minute to get ready. But, her own procrastination had bested her, especially since she didn’t want to go, at all. It isn’t that Y/N wasn’t excited to see all her peers, it’s just that...

Y/N wasn’t excited to see her peers. 

Or anyone for that matter, she was exhausted after having just recently returned from one of her longer missions, and though her publicist had insisted the timing was perfect Y/N had to disagree.

She was really hoping for a break, not to be forced into socializing with everyone. And though Y/N didn’t want to seem arrogant in any way, she was a woman who had amassed quite the influence in her years as a Pro Hero. Meaning people wanted to talk to her, they wanted her favor.

Y/N wasn’t in the mood to have conversations with people faking kindness at the moment, which was the primary reason she found herself grimacing as she slipped on her second heel. Nearly falling to the floor had she not caught herself on the edge of the doorway as she hopped out while adjusting her shoe. 

As though things couldn’t become more chaotic, Y/N’s phone rings, causing her to jump at the sudden noise in shock before cursing, hand reaching into her small purse and digging around for the item as she continues towards her door. Just before she can pick up the phone, the call promptly ends, and a knock sounds at the door— causing Y/N to groan in annoyance as she comes to a proper stand and begins to make her way towards the entrance of her home.

The knocks become more rapid, and Y/N suddenly realizes just who is at her door as she rolls her eyes, calling out, “I’m coming you impatient hag.” 

Y/N can practically hear the scoff of her publicist as she finally opens the door, revealing the woman who stands with her brow raised. “We’re going to be late.”

Before her stands Lorelai Flores, one of the most renowned publicists of their time. Y/N was lucky to have scored her seeing as she was one of few Pro Heroes who hadn’t had a scandal yet, miraculously. In fact, Y/N had been one of her first clients shortly after they’d met in a local café— the woman had come from America and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if life there was more chaotic with how well she handled all her clients.

The woman in question stands before Y/N in a green dress as she removes her glasses, eyes scanning Y/Ns figure before saying, “you look nice.”

A smile finds its way onto Y/N’s face as she lightly shoves Lorelai, stepping out of her apartment and locking the door behind her before the pair begins to head down the hall, “you look great as well!” 

The click of their heels brings Y/N a satisfaction she cant describe as they exit the apartment complex, Y/N lived in a quiet area, an attempt to escape the unavoidable fame being a Pro Hero brought on. It was especially worse when you saw all the posts.

God, Twitter is insane, Y/N learnt that the hard way. Despite the fact that she and Bakugou Katsuki hadn’t been in the same room since graduation— for a reason— the internet had taken to shipping the pair. It was an idea that Y/N abhorred given her history with the boy. After all, they’d practically been butting heads since they met. 

But it was appealing to the masses, the idea of someone “soft” like Y/N, someone known for their charity work and kindness, their sweet smile and endless optimism. And someone... like Bakugou. Harsh, almost ill-mannered and rude— though there was no denying that he’d made progress since their UA days, not that Y/N could confirm this seeing as she hadn’t seen him in so long. That and the fact that last she checked, most of the major headlines involving Bakugou were... not very positive.

Y/N started to avoid social media once she discovered this ship. She and Bakugou didn’t have the best relationship during their time at UA, it was practically a rivalry in their last year especially. 

“All your friends are going to be there.” Lorelai hummed, scrolling through her phone as she side eyed Y/N, the pair slipping inside a limo with ease once they stepped out of building, met by one of many men that Lorelai had hired. She had insisted that now that Y/N was a Pro Hero, she’d be a target too. And of course, her publicist was right. 

Her brow raises, as she settles in the car, deciding to simply reply, “yes, I’m aware they’ll all be there.” It’s a curious comment, seeing as it was an obvious fact. They were all heroes, and given their history with UA, well... the world had been anticipating their debuts for a while. Meaning they all quickly rose to fame, some faster than others, and some remaining in the spotlight far longer. 

Surprisingly, Y/N was included in that bunch, unsurprisingly, Bakugou, Todoroki and Midoriya were as well. Tokoyami had also carved out a nice spot for himself at Hawks’ agency, and Yaoyorozu had managed to become a sidekick to a rather renowned upcoming hero. 

Y/N had also earned a spot at Hawks’ agency, the man demanding her presence because she had “reminded him of himself,” for some reason. And seeing as he was one of the top heroes, who was she to disagree? The man seemed to understand her desire for distance, allowing her to go on missions that tended to be further out from where she’d grown up. And she was more thankful for the space.

She’d taken to philanthropy as soon as the money started coming in. Y/N had never understood just how much money Pro Heroes made until she was earning it as well. Although, seeing as she wasn’t ranked all that high, it wasn’t until she started branching out and doing other work that it became ridiculous.

“All of your friends, Ms. L/N.” Lorelai looks up to her, brow raised as she crosses her legs, resting her clasped hands on top of them.

Y/N offers her a tight lipped smile before waving her off, “I told you to call me Y/N, we’ve known each other how long?” 

“Don’t change the subject.”

Sighing, Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, eyes drifting towards the window to see there are already dozens of flashing lights lined up, surrounding the venue of the gala, hoping to catch one of the Pro Heroes before anyone else does.

With a sigh, Lorelai directs her eyes outside as well, hands clasped together as she straightens herself in her seat, “funny isn’t it? That such a vital job requires so much publicity?” A tight lipped smile forms on their face, “I suppose I should be grateful for it. After all, it’s the reason I have a job but...”

But, Y/N hated it, and so did Lorelai. 

“It’s horrid that my dress matters more than any life I save.” 

And with that, the car comes to a stop. Alerting them that they’ve arrived, coupled with a short and swift knock on the door to signal that it’s time to get out. 

Inhaling deeply, Y/N looks back to Lorelai, who takes out a pocket mirror and removes her glasses, Lorelai eyes herself in the mirror momentarily, blinking once, twice, before saying, “most people don’t bring their publicists to such events you know.”

A small laugh escapes Y/N, and she knows its Lorelai’s attempt at helping her wind down before going inside, though she replies, “you’re more than my publicist.” Offering her a smile, Y/N simply says, “and why suffer alone when I can bring my friend, and who else will make sure I don’t do anything dumb?” 

It was true, it was always nice to have a partner at such functions, someone to hang around or return to. Or more accurately, someone to use as an excuse to leave the more annoying conversations. Though Lorelai always enjoyed the free foods and gift bags— that had items worth more than her rent, Lorelai had once said— and agreed to join Y/N/

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai simply knocks at the door, letting their chauffeur know it’s time before momentarily turning back to Y/N as they say, “ladies first.”

And with that, the door opens, revealing the pair to the world and exposing them to all the flashing lights of the mob awaiting them. People shouting out her Pro Hero name, Empatha.

Named for her quirk, Empathic Mimicry. Granting her to use the ability of those she touches for as long as she wants. However, in that period of time, she can feel their emotions and pain, and the quirk she uses comes with the setbacks of the user. If the person she touches is quirkless, it is possible to get other skills of theirs, but once again there are setbacks. 

Todoroki spent much of his free time at UA theorizing that she and Monoma Neito were secretly related in some way. Monoma on the other hand, seemed bitter about the fact that Y/N was “a better version” of him. Despite this, the memory of Todoroki’s odd question brings a genuine smile to her face as she steps onto the red carpet, swiftly making her way past as she waves towards the cameras. 

It’s just as overwhelming as it was the first time. And the second time. And the time after that. Even if Y/N had taught herself to control her abilities, no longer feeling the emotions of those surrounding her. But she didn’t need her ability to feel the excitement, anxiety— and worst of all the ambition. Ambition tended to be dangerous in the hero world. The reason behind unnecessary deaths, and exposed scandals. In Y/N’s experience it was a dangerous emotion, but she wouldn’t deny it had produced some impressive people. 

The lights are blinding as Y/N maneuvers inside, colliding with someone, warm hands come to rest on her forearms as the person in question mutters out, “watch where you’re going.”

Y/N finds herself freezing, recognizing him almost instantly. By the time her eyes have readjusted to the light, she finds that Bakugou is staring right back at her, mouth gaped open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Y/N scoffs, tearing her arm from his grasp as he quickly as she attempts to collect herself, inhaling deeply.

Y/N probably should’ve guessed it was him from the screams, pose for a picture! Why don’t you two get a little closer! Can you comment on your relationship? They’re yelling for Bakugou too, wondering why he finally decided to make an appearance. Y/N is curious as well, for different reasons of course.

Bakugou is rolling his eyes before she can continue, “please, it’s not like I wanted to see you either.” 

Y/N nods slowly, offering him a bitter smile as she inhaled deeply— taking a few steps back. “Great to see you Bakugou, truly.” Sarcasm dripping from her tone as she stands beside him begrudgingly, putting on a false smile, “I hate you just as much as I used to.” 

Pausing, Bakugou’s hand comes to hover over her waist, as he stares into the cameras, muttering, “why?” 

“We both have reputations to maintain, do we not?” Comes her response, looking to him, Y/N reminds herself not to scowl as she straightens herself beside him, waving to a group of people and inciting more screams as she beams from beside Bakugou.

His laugh is a bitter one as he replies, “right.” Y/N inhales shakily, removing herself from Bakugou as she offers him a sarcastic smile, “thanks for the show, Sweetheart, but you aren’t all that important. You aren’t doing me any favors right now.”

A laugh escapes her, and the number of flashes increases exponentially, only for her to turn to Bakugou and say, “really now? Well, I suppose you’re right I’m not important seeing as you’re the one on the front page every week for a different scandal.” Bakugou looks away, scoffing, and Y/N nearly flips him off before reminding herself where she is and saying, “And I don’t want your thanks. I don’t want anything from you.”

And then she’s off, offering tight lipped smiles to those around her as she moved further into the venue for the gala, grabbing a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, Y/N mumbled out words of thanks before downing the drink instantly. Making her way past each person when a hand grabs her wrist.

“Y/N?”

Izuku Midoriya, better known as Pro Hero Deku, had intercepted Y/N on her way to the sanctuary of every party. The bathroom. Though he was probably the best person to have caught her, and undoubtedly someone she actually wanted to speak with. Y/N had a feeling he could tell something was wrong from the way he looked at her, concern clear in his eyes, Izuku was always easy to read. But she had somewhere to be and—

And Bakugou would be entering anytime soon. And what infuriated Bakugou more than she did? Izuku Midoriya.

So, Y/N puts a smile on her face as she says, “hey Midoriya.” She clears her throat, moving to stand beside him as she asks, “how are you doing?” 

He beams back at her, his smile as genuine as ever as he responds, “I’m well! And so are you it seems, there are rumors that you’ll be entering the top 100 heroes this year, you know?” 

Y/N had heard such rumors as well, if they were true, she’d be the first of her class to become a part of the top 100. Seeing as they were still basically fresh out of UA, it would be quite the achievement for her to do so at such a young age. Rivaling the progression of even Pro Hero Hawks. 

Raising a brow Y/N shoves him lightly, “scouting out the competition are you, Midoriya?” 

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he immediately begins shaking his head as his cheeks flush a bright red, “absolutely not!” He exclaims, “I’m just so amazed by how far you’ve come and it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” 

A small laugh escapes her at his reaction, her eyes drifting towards her empty glass as she replies, “well I have no doubt that if I do miraculously enter the top 100, you’ll be close behind.” Inhaling deeply, she meets his eyes, “now if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way to the restroom when you caught me.” Once again, his cheeks flush a light pink as he begins to sputter apologies, and Y/N simply smiles as she says, “but we should definitely catch up sometime soon, maybe we can hang out sometime soon?”

A bashful smile finds its way onto his face as he nods slowly, “yeah. I would like that.”

And with that, Y/N waves goodbye to him continuing to the bathroom and managing to avoid any more conversations though few tried. Likely hoping for some good publicity themselves, she could see people beginning to swarm Deku in the distance now— and Y/N finds herself feeling bad that she left him so soon.

But as Y/N makes her way inside the restroom, it finally hits her.

Lorelai meant it when she said all her peers are coming, the woman had probably meant it as a warning. It was rare for Bakugou to attend social events, especially since they rarely ended well when it came to him. Most days, he ended up the headline of every single news sources when it came to his public events, rarely did Bakugou have a good run in with the press. Y/N was shocked he’d made it this far in the hero industry with his poor reputation only worsening at every event.

Oh she needed a drink. Y/N needed a lot of drinks. She couldn’t do this right now, not at all.

But more importantly, she needed fun, she needed lots of fun. So, taking one last look at the mirror, Y/N inhales deeply before exiting the restroom, spotting Izuku Midoriya almost instantly. She makes her way towards him, calling out for him, “Midoriya!” Her words distract him from his conversation, drawing the attention of those around then and the people who were initially speaking to him. 

The boy seems relieved that someone has come to save him from whatever conversation he was having, waving to Y/N as he says, “Y/N?”

A grin comes onto her face as she extends a hand to him, looking to those around him, “sorry to interrupt but—” She turns back to Izuku, “may I have this dance?

He offers her a nervous smile, only sparing those around him a glance as he replies, “definitely.” 

And with that, she drags him to the dance floor, and Y/N can feel the eyes on her as she does. It certainly is a curious sight. Two of the big up and coming heroes heading to the dance floor together after barely any public interactions. Y/N is sure that once the word gets out the internet will be going insane, and so will the press. Weaving together stories of insanity to boost their readership.

At this rate, Y/N didn’t care. 

This was Y/N L/N’s first mistake of the night, but it certainly wouldn’t be her last seeing as by the end of the night, Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katsuki would be on every front page and headline. 

note: lmk how this was pls i need validation <3

[hahanoiwont]

1. What kind of relationship does WT Frisk have with Nightmare & co? Is it family-like or is it friendship-like? Does WT Frisk get along with all the bad sanses?

2. What if WT Frisk met Ink and Dream first? What would their relationship with Frisk be like?

3. I know that in your fanfic Whither then, Frisk has some kinda nonchalant attitude about dying again and again. What kinda of reactions would the skeleton bros have when finding out that Frisk has died so many times to point of Frisk becoming numb to dying?

4. I know I’m asking a lot of questions, so sorry about. But I love your fanfics and they make me happy and sad when reading them. If Frisk agreed with Red to stay immortal and stop aging, would all the multiverse sanses and Papyruses be happy about that?

Thank you so much for answering my long winded questions. 😆

oh no this was buried in my askbox, I am sorry for losing it for so long! So without further ado:

1. Does WT Frisk get along with all the bad sanses?

Yeah! I'd say in the bad sanses au (mostly readable here) Frisk gets on well with mostly everyone--those of them with specifically Frisk/Chara-related trauma might take a while to adjust, but most of them have already met Frisk before they even get to Nightmare's place. This is after Frisk and Dust have been traveling together for a while, so of course they get along. They actually have to work more on the idea of being separated sometimes, when Dust goes on missions and Frisk isn't constantly with him. They've been traveling together for several universes, and while Frisk is an independent kid, Dust has been about 3 feet from them, max, for much of that time. Mostly because he doesn't actually have any means of traveling through the multiverse himself, besides just catching on Frisk's shoulder as they go. If they'd happened to go and leave him behind, he'd be stranded. Thus, the two of them were more or less attached at the hip, especially towards the end of any given run. I think that habit would be hard to break, even when they're rooming with several new people and Dust has a sorta-kinda real job.

Likely, this starts out with Frisk just hanging out with Horror, and Dust coming with them as a matter of course while they do things he's not particularly interested in. So, Dust and Horror reach a comfortable mutual tolerance fairly quickly, mostly because Dust is apathetic and Horror is busy enjoying the reunion. But I imagine the first mission they go on is a whole stressfest for everyone involved, given Horror's abandonment issues, Frisk's abandonment issues, and Dust's discomfort with addressing social situations without Frisk to run interference. So, that would be a Time.

2. What if WT Frisk met Ink and Dream first?

Hmm. Let's say it's maybe a sort of Outertale situation, where Ink and Dream happen to be in a world that they're monitoring for Shenanigans when, lo and behold, a Shenanigan drops in their laps!

This is never covered in Outertale bc Comet doesn't know about it, but the general outcode community deals with people not being where they belong by trying to find some place they can belong in. Being as it's pretty unsustainable to try sending Frisk back to UF, they'd likely try to set them up with an AU that's expressly for homeless universe-wanderers. That way, Frisk isn't wandering through AUs that aren't supposed to have an outcode presence in them, and there's a minimum of interference. So...I think that lands Frisk in some place like the omega timeline, or haventale?

I think somewhere like that would be pretty good for them, actually--they're surrounded by people who have all also lost their homes, and loved ones, and who are also trying to build a new life after all of that. Somehow, I see them making friends with a post-genocide version of one of the swap bros? Or. actually. Disbelief!Papyrus. To my understanding that's Classic Papyrus as the survivor of a genocide run in which Sans was killed before the Judgement Hall, so Papyrus is the one to wait in the Hall and confront the human for murdering his brother. I think that Papyrus would have a lot to say about Sans as a flawed but beloved individual who is now gone forever, which Frisk would be able to empathize with after their experience with Red. I think after some initial wariness, they could be dear friends to one another.

3. What kinda of reactions would the skeleton bros have when finding out that Frisk has died so many times to point of Frisk becoming numb to dying?

Well! Not best pleased, of course--learning that a loved one has died, even if they're back to being alive now, can't be easy. Of course, the Sanses generally know, or suspect--Red absolutely knows they've died, and has some specific deaths that he deduced in fairly accurate detail from Frisk's reactions and his own nightmares/deja vu moments. Ironically, he also has some nightmares about deaths that didn't happen, and assumes that those are also real. Blue, if you recall, thought he'd killed them in a past genocide run; Black and Slim were both aware of the possibility that they could time travel but ultimately dismissed their suspicions when Frisk proved to be able to REFUSE instead. US!Papyrus has learned that they can time travel and has done his best to take it in stride, but has avoided thinking too hard about the implications of that. Shy was also intellectually aware of the possibility, but he decided he didn't want to know.

However, in terms of new information, I think Fell would take it the hardest. He would see it as an absolutely crushing failure--not only did he not keep them safe from their own brother, he didn't keep them safe at all. He would seriously start to question whether he's of any use to them at all--which, given his ideas about attachment, would lead him to feel he doesn't have a place in their life. He would definitely take it personally that they died so much when he was purportedly protecting them.

I think his ultimate decision, reached without discussing the matter with anyone else, would be that he's Definitely Failed as a brother, both to Red and to Frisk, and he's just not capable of keeping anyone safe. Clearly he is simply not meant to experience love. He can save his world from itself but he can never keep a single person from suffering. I think at this point US!Papyrus would step in, because clearly someone has to, and remind Fell that he's still extremely violent and paranoid. If it came down to a duel to the death to keep their respective siblings safe, Fell would win by a landslide. This would actually make Fell feel better. Surely, if US!Papyrus is worthy of love despite being totally unable to kill a dozen people in an afternoon, Fell must be fine. He will just do Better from now on. No One Will Ever Die Again. Which is good, considering that murder is illegal now due to Fell's extensive efforts.

4. If Frisk agreed with Red to stay immortal and stop aging, would all the multiverse sanses and Papyruses be happy about that?

Well, I think that depends on exactly how they come to be immortal...I think the easy answer would be to absorb a boss monster's soul, since boss monsters don't naturally age, and go from there. Which would be an unpopular plan, generally. Especially since Frisk is quite young currently, and not at immediate risk of dying, barring unusual circumstances. It would just seem like a drastic move for a time that's so far away.

I think it would also depend on Frisk's attitude on it--if it's something that they're relieved about, or something they were pushed into, or even something they approached Red about in the first place.

Exceptions exist--Red would be both smug (he did a Good Thing. no one else even thought of it but he did) and quietly relieved; Fell would disapprove of Red being a bad influence on Frisk if the method were particularly violent but would notably not obstruct the process and not let anyone else stop it, either; Slim would be all for as long as Frisk was alright with it; and Black would insist that it's their choice and his approval or disapproval isn't what's important here. Though he would be likely to corner Red later and convey his gratitude through terrifying and questionable means.

Sfrisks would think that all of these people are insane.

Hoo boy this got long, but,, thank you for sending in these asks! I love answering these questions, even if it takes me a while to actually get to the answering bit. I appreciate it!

[halequeenjas]

So It Ghosts || Nadia & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @humanmoodring & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: While out for a run, Jasmine sees a wistful Nadia laying in the middle of the road. Some chats ensue. 

While running was far from her favorite thing in the world, Jasmine still made a point of doing it three mornings a week to keep herself in tip-top shape. It wasn’t quite as empowering as the kickboxing classes she did, but hey, sometimes you needed to be able to both hit and outrun a monster. It was Surviving White Crest 101 basics. Just because she looked like a snack didn’t mean she wanted some White Crest weirdo to actually snack on her. That was a big old no thank you from her. She’d been jamming to a Beyonce playlist as she weaved through the streets before she felt a familiar chill. It’d been a while since Larry Bob crashed one of her morning runs and she stopped in her place, ready to go for the bag of salt in her running belt when she saw a ghostly woman laying in the street. Oh. “Hey,” she called out, “Any reason you’re hanging around in the street. I know you’re dead and all, but from what I’ve heard, cars passing through you still isn’t fun.” 

Wandering around town wasn’t quite the same when one didn’t have a body, Nadia was beginning to realize. She didn’t have to worry about people greeting her or cars hitting her. Maybe that was why she’d decided to lay in the road, allowing any early morning commuters to run right over her, as if she wasn’t really there, while she contemplated what was left of her life. She’d already decided that, if things didn’t work out, she couldn’t just haunt Blanche or Regan forever. That wasn’t fair, not to either of them. The thought of it made her want to just sink into the ground and stay there. She was startled by the sound of a woman’s voice, but she didn’t realize she was talking to her until she turned her head and saw the woman looking at her. “Uh, hi.” She was quickly getting to the point where she expected more people to ignore her than she did for them to see her. “Just, you know, taking in the scenery.” She stood up and dusted herself off out of habit before she realized there was no possible way any dust could have clung to her. She tried not to flinch at the word dead. “It’s not, the best feeling in the world, but it’s not like I’m getting run over.” She stepped onto the sidewalk, though, putting a bit of distance between herself and the road as a car drove by.

There was something about the way new ghosts clung on to living mannerisms that was always curious to Jasmine. Even with all the ghosts she’d seen in her lifetime, it was still strange to see. She looked the woman over for any injuries as she sat up, but there were none that indicated her cause of death. Most ghosts tended to have violent deaths that led to them sticking around, at least from what she’d seen in White Crest which was admittedly more violent than most other places. “Very funny,” she deadpanned with her hands on her hips, “I get the whole introspective thing, but like, you know there’s like cliffs and oceans, right?” Which was hardly the point. She was much more concerned with what was tying her to this plane. It was preferable she moved on without being forced to do so, Jasmine knew this, which is why regular ghosts made her uneasy. She was far “too blunt” as many had put it to offer truly comforting words. “I guess you make a point, but like, why here? Is there some sort of significance? Something that keeps you well… here,” she motioned to the area around them. 

“Thanks,” Nadia said, smiling a bit unsurely. She never knew how much she relied on being an empath until there was just nothing for her to focus on. She’d been around a few undead people, but even that was nothing like this. All of her senses? Cut off. It felt like she’d lost a part of herself she wasn’t even aware she could miss. “Um, cliffs and oceans are nice, too, I guess?” She shrugged. “I was just, like, in the area. I’ve been wandering around town, and I was tired. Tired?” Was that even the right word? It wasn’t like she could sleep this off, but, God, she was exhausted. “Tired. So I just sat down. You’re the first person to notice me, and I’ve been here for awhile, I think.” Time had little consequence. Nadia just knew she probably needed to check in with Blanche every now and then so the girl didn’t worry, but she wasn’t just going to hang around the girl’s apartment all day. She had things to do. “Significance?” she murmured, before her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! No, no significance. Just seemed like as good of a place as any to take a break.” She ran a hand through her hair, wondering what she was supposed to do next. “I’m, uh, Nadia. Nice to meet you.”

Jasmine scanned the other woman over carefully as she looked for any sign of serious injuries. It was very rare to see a ghost that was bloodied and gross in some way yet here she was standing, relatively unscathed it appeared. “I get what you mean, tired in the more metaphorical sense of the word,” she explained though she still had a brow raised in question as she looked her over. There was no significance to the spot so it begged the question of what she was doing here on a more existential level. “Nadia, good to meet you, I’m Jasmine.” She wiped some of the sweat off her brow that came with an early morning jog and found she couldn’t help blurting, “So like, what’s your deal? What’s keeping you tied to this plane post death and all that jazz?”

“Exactly,” Nadia said. “That’s exactly it. Couldn’t sleep if I wanted to.” Though, that had been a problem even when she was alive. She ran a hand through her hair as the other woman looked her over, feeling thoroughly scrutinized, but it wasn’t like she could fix whatever the woman was looking at so closely. She wished, not for the first time, that she could feel what was going on. “Nice to meet you, too, Jasmine,” Nadia said, though she found herself blinking at the woman’s next words. What was keeping tied to this plane post death? But she wasn’t-- Well, Jasmine didn’t know that. For all this other woman knew, Nadia was just another ghost in White Crest, stuck hanging around and being a general nuisance to the rest of the living world. “Uh, it’s a bit complicated? But, my body. I’m kind of hanging around for my body. It’s still running around.” She smiled a bit sheepishly. “I was, like, accidentally evicted.”

“That’s true,” Jasmine agreed though a bit unsure about the whole exhausted ghost situation. Not that she knew what was in the great beyond, but she had to imagine it was pretty relaxing and stress free. Letting go and getting off this plane were probably her best bet, so she’d try to talk her through it before it was likely to become a bigger problem. At the sound of a car approaching, she realized she had still been standing in the street she stepped into and was quick to jump back to the safety of the sidewalk. At the mention of being evicted from her body, she let out a soft “oh” as she remembered what Connor and Blanche told her about. “You’re that Nadia, okay. Your situation may have been mentioned to me by a couple people I met recently. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before, but I have been hitting the books about it. What can you tell me about the ghost that’s currently using your body?” 

“I didn’t realize I was famous,” Nadia joked, but she felt a little uncomfortable. It had been bad enough that Blanche and her friends had gotten involved, almost gotten hurt. Now, there were even more legitimate strangers getting themselves involved in what was sure to be a dangerous situation. She stepped out of the street as well, despite having spent an extended period of time laying there. Probably best that she didn’t get into the habit of getting run over by cars. “From what I’ve learned, it’s not a particularly common thing. I was possessed for a really long time before I woke up in White Crest.” She flinched a little, thinking back to just how long of a time that was. “Like, six years. But, about the ghost.” What did she even know about Cordelia, really, besides the fact that she was a psychopathic bitch? “Her name is Cordelia, apparently. She was a criminal when she was alive, and she’s been using me to be a criminal since she started possessing me. She’s poltergeisted, apparently, which I’m sure isn’t great. We got sort of-- It was weird. A few months ago, I was hurt pretty bad while she was possessing me, and I ended up hurting a friend with a iron pole.” She shut her eyes tightly at the memory, trying not to think of Kaden’s face. “But we kept flipping back and forth for control after that. She doesn’t react well to strong emotions.” Of course, neither did Nadia. “Oh, and I’m an empath. I don’t know if that helps, though.”

“Maybe just in the ghost world. People tend to come to me with ghost problems and I recently met the younger ghost-seeing crowd,” Jasmine explained, “Which is good because I have a lot more in the experience category.” The whole situation here was different and one that was even outside her normal wheelhouse. A ghost evicting the rightful person from their body was not the norm though it was starting to make sense as she advised she was possessed for six years. Her jaw dropped and she said, “Six years?!” Never in her experience had she encountered someone that was possessed for that long. Did being dormant in her own body for so long make it easier for the ghost to take the wheel? She’d have to keep researching. “I’m so sorry, that has to be awful.” Possessions were a difficult thing. She couldn’t imagine someone taking control of her own body though she knew the risk exorcisms posed for her. Though it was difficult, she tried to keep her features calm as Nadia further explained what happened. “Fight for control like that definitely sounds… bad. I’m sorry about your friend, too. Poltergeist is definitely a bit trickier, typically takes two exorcists to get the job done in that case.” The word empath made her tilt her head slightly, “Empath? I wonder-- I don’t think that’d play into it. I can promise you I’m doing more research though. Is it… I guess it’s obvious things aren’t okay, but are you doing alright as a ghost?” 

“Have you been doing this for long?” Nadia asked. The woman looked around her age, though, seeing as how Nadia’s only experience with exorcists were of the probably-too-young variety, perhaps that meant she really was a lot more experienced. Even still, the fact that Jasmine was also shocked by the length of Nadia’s possession didn’t bode well. Apparently, she was one of a kind in that regard. Still, she shrugged a bit. “I didn’t remember much of it, so it was just… going to sleep one year and waking up in another. At least I did wake up.” Even if she’d woken up wrong, she’d been able to start a life, have friends, be a person. Though it had been taken from her, again and again, she’d still had it, briefly. “I didn’t even want to fight, really. I mean, I did,” Nadia backtracked. It was embarrassing to admit that she had, and it made her guilty, too, when she thought about everything her friends had put themselves through to get her back. “It was just hard, so I didn’t. But I didn’t really have to, once it got to the back and forth kind of thing.” She thought about Kaden and the fact that she’d hurt him, not once but twice. “I’m sorry, too.” She gritted her teeth. “So she’s just gotten worse?” No matter how bad she might have felt for Cordelia, for the fact that she wouldn’t be able to find peace, the ghost had to fucking go. Nadia sighed. “Thanks. I’m-- I mean, it’s no worse than being possessed. Could be worse.”

“I’ve always been able to see ghosts, but I started learning how to perform exorcisms about 11 years ago. Almost 12 now actually,” Jasmine answered confidently. While there was always more to learn, she felt very confident with the rituals she did know. The fact her aunt had pushed her to learn Latin from a young age without her ever really knowing why only made the process easier. Even if she hadn’t quite made it to her aunt’s level, she still had all her books that she read regularly. It seemed like her responsibility. The length of Nadia’s possession was still alarming though. She’d read about it, but the fact still stood that meant the poltergeist in her body was extremely unstable. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t remember their time possessed well. I’ve heard it’s kind of like sleeping. Never experienced it personally, but I trust the accounts. They’re all consistent.” Her voice conveyed more confidence than she felt. Having the wrong spirit exorcised out of its body was entirely new territory. There was surely an answer out there and she was more determined than before to find it. Though the mention of not wanting to fight had made her frown. Could that have played into it? Had she given up trying to have control of her own body? That very well could have played a role in the outcome of the botched exorcism. “Right, I get that it could be exhausting. Still, fighting is just part of life. At least, I think so anyway. Resilience and all that. Leave the fancy words to the philosophists or whatever though.” Not exactly the best motivational speech, but it was something. While her next answer wasn’t good news, she nodded anyway. “That tends to be how that works. Ghosts become more unstable the longer they spend on our plane. Poltergeists are another wheelhouse entirely. But yeah, I guess being a ghost isn’t much better or worse than being possessed. Still, an adjustment.”

Considering that her first exorcism had been done by kids who were likely no older than teenagers and the second group hadn’t been much older, Nadia was kind of impressed with Jasmine. Almost twelve years of experience was good, really good. “Oh, awesome. Awesome.” Still, it would have made her heart pound if she had one. Twelve years of experience and no idea what was going on with this. Somebody had to have seen something like this, right? Maybe a possession that lasted three years instead of six, or someone else who had been temporarily misplaced? “Consistency is key, right? Though, I don’t recommend it. It’s not the most enjoyable nap,” Nadia joked, trying to stay lighthearted. She ran a hand through her hair, the action doing nothing except letting her go through the motions of appearing alive. Not that it fooled anyone who could see her. “Oh, yeah, I mean, I know that. I do. I wasn’t, like, giving up because-- She would have killed more people if I’d kept fighting. People I care about, and I didn’t-- I wasn’t gonna let that happen, you know?” And she wasn’t. Never again. She looked down at her shoes, the way they seemed to be slightly more in the sidewalk than on it. “I mean, yeah, definitely an adjustment.” Nadia laughed a bit. “But, hey, at least I don’t have to worry about watching my weight?” She sobered. “Do you… I mean, how long do you think I can stay like this before… before?”

In a way, Nadia’s use of humor to make light of her own shitty situation reminded her of Nell. It was a way of communicating that Jasmine always had difficulty understanding. Maybe she’d been lucky enough to grow up without caring how others perceived her emotions, but it always felt strange trying to laugh along with a dark joke. Especially one regarding possession which was far from even a remotely humorous subject. “They do say that. Not sure it applies here, but you know, to each their own,” she said, still unsure of the sentiment even if it had been meant as a joke. When she explained why she let the ghost take full control instead of continuing to fight, it made sense. Jasmine knew she’d do just about anything to protect people she cared for though it only made it more apparent this ghost needed to be exorcised as quickly as possible. Ghosts murdering or hurting people was exactly what she was meant to prevent. “I do get that. I don’t love it, especially considering this ghost is a murderer, but I do understand wanting to keep the people you love safe. It’s not typically easy for a ghost to maintain control of a body for such a prolonged time. She must be very determined,” she said softly trying to bring some comfort to the situation. With another joke coming from Nadia, Jasmine simply just arched her brow in a look that said “Really?” Using humor to cope wasn’t really her thing so she just glossed over it this time and chose to answer her question instead. “I think it may be a little different since you’re technically not, like, dead dead. That sort of thing varies for everyone, too. The more angry a ghost is, the more unstable they are likely to become. You seem to be in fairly good spirits all things considered so I don’t really see you getting poltergeist-y before we’re able to help you return to your own body.” 

Being unable to read emotions was really putting a damper on Nadia’s people skills. Not that she’d been anything other than awkward before, but at least she’d been more adept in learning when to shut up and maybe not say the first dumb joke that came to her head. Making light of her own situation had always been a source of comfort for Nadia, but she’d known when to use it and when not to. Clearly, this wasn’t the time. “Right, yeah, sorry. My, uh, my people skills are falling a bit on the wayside. Can you tell?” Nadia scratched at the back of her neck and sighed deeply. “She wasn’t a murderer before. I mean, when she was possessing me the first time, there was definitely a charge where I was suspected of murder but she was mostly just a thief. A con artist. I didn’t… I didn’t think she would kill people if I gave in.” She looked away, unable to really look Jasmine in the eyes. “I probably sound stupid, defending the person that-- She’s awful. She’s made my life hell for years. But she doesn’t--” She didn’t deserve to suffer. Nadia could get it, wanting her body and her life back. Being like this was shitty. She wouldn’t have done what Cordelia did, never, but she understood it. “I didn’t think she’d kill people.” It was relieving to hear, at least, that she wasn’t going to become like that anytime soon, though. Hopefully. She wasn’t an angry ghost, or she wasn’t trying to be. Maybe she fit the stigma of the sad ghost waiting for her husband to return from the war, except her husband was her body and the war was a fucking crime spree. Sure, it was a shitty analogy, but she was just a sad, tired ghostly person. Sue her. “That’s-- Okay, yeah. Thanks. That’s a bit of a weight off my shoulders.” Nadia gave Jasmine a smile. She was trying not to make a good spirits joke. “Thank you, Jasmine. For helping with this and for just, like, talking to me. It’s been nice.”

In a way, Jasmine could kind of understand where Nadia was coming from. Everyone was just trying to make the best of their situation. She just wished Nadia had a little more fight in her. She believed it would make it a lot harder for this ghost to be possessing her if that was the case. Allowing the ghost to be more long lived and unstable wasn’t doing anyone any favors, especially since this ghost had turned into a poltergeist. Before, there had been a chance for peaceful passing on or banishment, but execution meant her soul would just be destroyed. Cease to exist. Which had to be her fear all along. It was sad, but it was a consequence of her own actions. She made a discernible effort to soften her features. “You seem like a good person, Nadia,” she said easily, “Maybe this ghost wasn’t so bad before. I mean, stealing is morally questionable, but a big jump away from murder. The problem with ghosts is the longer they’re in that state and the more fearful and angry they become, the more dangerous they get. As sad as it is, she put herself in this position.” Maybe her insight wasn’t wanted, but she hoped it helped. “I doubt you deserved to have your life ripped away from you either. Glad talking about things could help though. I’m usually out and about around town. My office and house are warded off, but if I ever see you hanging around outside, I’ll come out and talk.” She’d quickly told her where her home and office were before giving a small wave. “I gotta finish up my run before my morning appointments, but I’m around if you need anything. Keep that chin up, okay?” She gave her a small smile before running off with a sense of melancholy she couldn’t quite explain.

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Map of the Soul, Chapter Six

For the @btswritingcafe​‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Taehyung x reader; Seokjin x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong.  Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for?  Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 7K+

Warnings: cursing & vulgar language, anxiety issues, bad puns & cheesy jokes (it is a Jin chapter after all), mutual oral sex (69), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (please be safe, darlings), creampie

Chapter Six: The Dish Who Ran Away With the Spoon

March 23rd, 7:07pm

You and Taehyung pulled up to your cousin Seokjin’s house and you hesitated after you parked. He caught on to your mood quickly and placed his hand on your thigh reassuringly. He knew where your head was at, and he waited patiently for you to speak.

“Tae, tell me I can do this,” you begged softly. “Tell me I can get through one night with her and not ruin my cousin’s graduation party.”

“It’s been three years, babe,” Taehyung replied. “Maybe things will be better now? Either way, I’ll be right here with you.”

Your head fell back against the headrest and you took a deep breath, trying to release any nagging bitterness toward your cousin’s wife. When Seokjin started dating Aeri four years ago, you were adamant that he rethink his life choices. You knew from experience just what kind of girl Aeri was and you told him on multiple occasions that she was just using him because his family had money. Aeri was well-known among your graduating class as a seeker of wealth, and she’d barreled through several of your friends in pursuit of their trust funds. You tried to reason with Seokjin, but he kept laughing it off as a joke and he insisted that she was nothing like that.

They announced their engagement after a year of dating, and you cornered Aeri at a family gathering and gave her the typical “if you hurt my cousin, I will hunt you down and make sure they never find the body” speech. You may have used some especially colorful language in the middle of your well intended speech, and who would’ve known that the phrase “selfish gold digging bitch” would cause such a violent reaction? Aeri had a breakdown in the middle of the gathering and Seokjin swooped in to save her, as always.

He’d been furious at you, accusing you of jealousy and threatening to uninvite you to his wedding. Blinded by fury, you assured him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him or his “conniving bitch wife to be.” Needless to say, in that one evening, you’d driven an unintentional stake between you and your closest cousin. The damage appeared irreparable.

The wedding came and went without you in attendance, despite your mother’s incessant pleas to make amends with Seokjin. There were a handful of family gatherings where you were all in attendance, but things always soured whenever you and Aeri neared one another. Tonight was no exception, but you really wanted the night to continue without incident.

I just need to avoid her, and everything will be ok.

“Ok,” you breathed out in a huff. “Let’s do this. If you see any indication of an impending kerfuffle, Tae-bear, you need to get me the hell out immediately. I will not ruin this for Sana.”

“I’m on it,” Taehyung responded while taking your keys. “Was Sana the weird little girl who would melt her Barbie dolls with a lighter and then fuse them together?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed. “Now, that weird little girl is a certified welder who is going to be doing an internship at NASA this summer. With her skill, she’ll probably end up getting a full time job welding things for the space program.”

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked. “Whoever said trade schools were a waste of time were seriously mistaken. Good for her!”

You both made your way to the backyard, where a huge buffet table laden with food awaited the guests. The backyard was decorated in fairy lights and small tasteful centerpieces. Upon further inspection, Taehyung noticed that the centerpieces were actually small welded art pieces.

“These are so cool!” Taehyung proclaimed. “I want one!”

“You should see the ones I have at home,” came a surly voice from the end of the table. “You’d love them.”

“Sana!” you exclaimed. “Congratulations!”

You met her halfway around the table and pulled her into a quick side hug. Sana wasn’t really one for a lot of affection, so even the little hug you gave her flustered her a bit.

“I’m so proud of you,” you beamed. “I heard about your internship, it’s so exciting.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Sana gave Taehyung the once over and rolled her eyes playfully.

“You’re still hanging out with this jerk?” she teased. “I figured you would’ve ditched his pathetic ass a long time ago.”

Taehyung gave his best rendition of mock offense and stepped back slightly to “recover” from her insults. After catching a sliver of a smile on her face, he stepped forward to offer her a fist bump, which she gladly reciprocated.

“It’s good to see you, Sana,” Taehyung said. “I’m very happy to hear you’re doing well as a welder and not making headlines as a serial killer.”

“You never know,” Sana shrugged nonchalantly. “Could still happen.”

After several minutes of entertaining antics between you, Sana, and Taehyung, you realized you needed to use the restroom. You assured Taehyung that you could, indeed, go to the bathroom on your own, and you left him talking to Sana about her welding exploits.

You quickly made your way inside, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of your mother and your crazy aunts. You found the downstairs half bath easily enough, and you were so thankful that you’d avoided any drama on the way inside. Hopefully, your escape would be just as uneventful.

You were almost to the end of the hall when you were suddenly pulled inside a darkened room. You wanted to yelp, but the person who pulled you into the room held a hand over your mouth. You glanced at the immaculate manicured fingernails and gaudy wedding ring, and you knew exactly who’d accosted you.

“Please don’t yell at me just yet,” Aeri breathed out quietly. “I just need to talk to you, and I really need you to listen to what I have to say.”

You resisted the urge to snap at your loathsome cousin-by-marriage, but when you looked at her in the soft light coming in from the windows, your heart softened considerably. Your confusion increased as she flicked the switch on a small lamp in the room.

Aeri was a mess. Her makeup was a little smeared around the edges of her red rimmed eyes, her hair was slightly disheveled, and she looked genuinely distraught. She lowered her trembling hand and wrapped her arms around herself, as though she was trying to hold herself together.

What the hell happened to her?

“I know you hate me, ok?” Aeri began gruffly. “It’s no secret that you think I’m a stupid, spoiled whore who stole your cousin Jin from you. However, it was never my intention to come between the two of you.”

You started to speak, but she held up a hand to stop you. It was obvious she had more to say, so you nodded and held your tongue.

“When Jin and I first got together, I will admit that I didn’t have the best intentions,” she conceded. “However, it only took a few weeks for me to realize that Jin wasn’t like every other guy I dated before. He was so wonderfully different and sweet and caring. He made me feel beautiful and loved and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You remained silent, and nodded your head knowingly. Kim Seokjin always gave off an air of arrogance and confidence, but underneath that facade of self-absorption was a genuine ball of marshmallow fluff that thrived on support and encouragement for the people he loved and cared about. He truly was a selfless person, and you always loved that about him.

“You knew what I was like before Jin,” she continued. “I was a monster, for lack of a better word. I was selfish and manipulative, and you had every right to assume that I was going to get my claws into Jin, just like I had with everyone else I dated. When I realized how amazing Jin was, I actually tried to break it off with him because I was worried that I would hurt him and I thought I didn’t deserve to be with someone like him.”

You recoiled slightly. You were almost certain you’d misheard her, but the look on her face expressed the truth.

Aeri tried to leave Jin?

“It didn’t matter how hard I tried to leave him though,” she pouted. “He refused to accept my breakup speech as anything but nonsense. I kept trying to break up with him and he kept telling me no. It was actually a little frustrating.”

You stifled a giggle at your cousin’s ridiculous antics. Seokjin had a flair for the dramatic, so you empathized with Aeri’s frustration.

“After a while, I stopped trying to break up with him,” Aeri explained. “And Jin, he just...he just made everything in my life so wonderful and simple. It felt like my heart was finally awake, and I was over the moon for him.”

You smiled softly at her confession.

Leave it to Jin to transform a vicious monster into a cuddly ball of fluff.

“When you confronted me at the engagement party, I didn’t handle things very well and I apologize for that,” she admitted. “I was afraid of losing the only man I ever loved, and the two of you were so close that I was sure you’d convince him to leave me. I panicked and I lashed out at you because I didn’t know what else to do.”

She stepped forward and took your hand into her own. You were shocked at her sudden tenderness, but you allowed her to continue her unexpected confession.

“Jin is the one who convinced me that I was deserving of love, and he taught me how to love myself,” she explained further. “What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was monopolizing him from the rest of the family, particularly you. I caused the rift between you two and I never made any attempts to remedy that. Losing Jin would devastate me, so I would panic whenever you were near him. I’m genuinely sorry for that.”

She took a deep cleansing breath and reached for something on the side table in the room. When she lifted it, you saw it was a very recognizable fork.

“I found this the day of the engagement party,” Aeri explained. “I didn’t know what it was at the time, but after that argument you had with Jin, I found out what it was. He told me about this fork that belonged to your grandparents. This fork was yours, and he had the spoon, the only pieces left from the original set.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed. “Jin and I are the foodies in the family. We were always cooking together, so those utensils were entrusted to us as family heirlooms.”

Aeri simply nodded and examined the fork more closely.

“I heard you guys arguing that night,” Aeri admitted. “I was just inside the door. I know you said some pretty despicable things to each other.”

“I called him a fucking idiot,” you cringed. “I said that you were going to ruin his life and that I wasn’t going to stick around to watch that happen.”

“I remember,” Aeri said. “I also remember that Jin said that if you really felt that way, then he would no longer be your cousin. Then, you threw this fork at his head and told him to “go fork himself.”

“I don’t know what hurt him more,” you smirked. “The fork or my terrible pun.”

“You know Jin,” Aeri smiled weakly. “He loves your puns. They’re just as bad as his dad jokes.”

You both shared a small giggle. It was enough to lighten the mood somewhat.

“Since that day, I’ve had this fork in my possession,” Aeri informed you. “Jin can’t seem to find the spoon though. When he found the fork in my jewelry box this morning, he was pretty upset, to say the least. He knew you were coming to Sana’s graduation and he’s been trying to find a way to talk to you these last few years. When he found out I had the exact thing he needed to get that conversation started, he yelled at me for the first time in our entire relationship.”

Your jaw dropped. Kim Seokjin never raised his voice at anyone in anger. Yeah, he was loud and rowdy most of the time, but it was never sincere or aggressive. If he really yelled at Aeri, then something must’ve snapped his composure.

“He accused me of keeping you guys apart all these years,” Aeri sobbed. “He said that if I was hiding this fork from him all this time, then that must mean that what you said about me was true. He really thinks I’m trying to sabotage his relationship with you, and that just isn’t true.”

The tears streaming down her face made your heart ache tightly with empathy. Aeri genuinely seemed to love your cousin and now this fork was calling that into question.

“Aeri,” you asked softly. “Why did you keep the fork? Why didn’t you give it to Jin sooner?”

“I was afraid,” she cried out. “Afraid of losing him to you and your assumptions about me. He loves you and trusts you more than anyone else in the world, you know. All these years, he’s questioned that night in his head. Whenever your name is brought up in conversation, it hurts him because he misses you so much. I saw it in his eyes every time, it’s like there’s a piece of him that’s gone. I didn’t know how to handle all of that, so I was a coward and I hid the fork. Now, he thinks I’m also hiding the spoon.”

Your brain pulled on yet another string of Fate and you thought back to the mysterious spoon in your purse.

The fucking spoon! I spent so much time with the fork, I never thought about the matching spoon.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she explained. “I need your help to fix this. I know that you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and I will do anything to make this right. Will you please help me? You’re the only one who can.”

You took another look at Aeri and your mind cleared. This was not the same girl you used to see stomping on men’s hearts after sucking them dry financially. The love in her eyes was pure, and the affection she had for your cousin was genuine. There was real remorse and suffering seeping out of her pores. You felt an immediate sense of guilt for all your prior accusations against her, and you decided to remedy her unfortunate situation.

“Where is he?” you implored. “I’ll talk to him.”

Aeri took a moment to absorb your words and then rushed forward to embrace you tightly. The sudden show of affection was unnerving, but you accepted it with grace. If you were going to settle this whole thing with Jin, you should at least start treating his wife cordially.

“He’s in the kitchen,” she informed you. “I’ll go in there and chase everyone else out so you can talk to him alone. Just give me a few minutes, ok?”

“Ok,” you agreed. “I just need to get something from my bag.”

You split up in the hallway and you quickly retrieved the spoon from your purse in the car. Once you made your way to the kitchen, Aeri was waiting at the entrance for you. You could hear Jin asking for help from within.

“Thank you again,” she whispered. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She squeezed your arm gently and then retreated down the hallway as you stepped into the brightly lit kitchen, taking a moment to appreciate the impressive wingspan of your cousin Jin’s shoulders in front of the counter.

“I hear you need some help, Jin-Jin?” you announced with a smile. “Maybe I can be of assistance?”

Jin’s shoulders ceased their motion and he set down the knife he was using to chop vegetables. He was cleaning his hands on his frilly apron when he turned around to face you. His face was unreadable, but you knew he was nervous about seeing you. The twitch in his right eye and the tension in his lips told you everything you needed to know.

“Hey,” he murmured with uncertainty. “I didn’t know you were here already.”

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly. “So, do you need help getting that vegetable tray ready?  You know I’m good with a knife.”

Jin’s lips settled into a polite smile and he reached over to the hooks on the wall to grab another frilly apron. He tossed it at you and you put it on while he pulled out another cutting board and knife for you to use. He settled the vegetables and tray between the two of you on the counter, and you started slicing away at a cucumber while he continued prepping the carrots. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, but you took note of the subtle glances he tossed in your direction. After he exhaled with a sigh, you took mercy on your poor cousin and decided to break the ice the only way you knew how.

“Hey, Jin,” you smirked. “I know this cucumber is cool, but should I chop it like it’s hot?”

You swiveled your hips slightly as you continued to slice the cucumber, and Jin’s eyes glowed with amusement. He was trying not to show how pleased he was with your silly pun, but you could tell he was gearing up for a joke of his own.

“Do whatever you want,” he shrugged. “I don’t carrot all.”

He lifted a carrot stick and chomped on it to punctuate the sentence. You both tightened your lips to contain your laughter, but ultimately you both exploded with giggles a few seconds later. You and Jin put down your knives to lift your aprons up to dab at the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. The two of you had a ridiculous sense of humor, but man, there was nothing you enjoyed more than hanging out with him and telling stupid jokes that only you and he would laugh at.

It was a relief to feel the tension in the kitchen dissipating so naturally. You missed having your favorite goofball around, and as you finished slicing the cucumber slices, you agonized over the time that you’d already lost. You arranged the sliced cucumber on the tray and grabbed the nearest crown of broccoli.

“Oh, good,” Jin commented. “I haven’t chopped the little trees yet. I’m glad you’re going to do them. You always know how to cut them the way I like them.”

You smiled brightly at his praise, and made quick work of the “little trees” Jin loved so much. Once the “forest” was arranged on the tray, you grabbed the multicolored cherry tomatoes and poured them into the corner slot. Another sigh from Jin captured your attention and you glanced over to catch his gaze as he leaned forward to arrange the carrot sticks on the platter.

“I’ve really missed this, you know?” Jin chirped. “Us, in the kitchen, making food and stupid jokes. I almost forgot how much fun this was.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we last did this,” you reminded him gently. “Actually, the last time I can remember was at your engagement party.”

You paused to gauge his reaction, and you had to give the man some credit. He was getting much better at concealing his emotions, but you were the one person who knew that the tips of his ears were about to flush pink from anxiety. Just as the blood rushed to the sides of his head, he released the breath he was holding. You almost smirked at his reaction, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Yeah, about that,” Jin gritted out while rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we need to talk about what happened that night.”

“I know,” you nodded. “Jin, I just-”

“You were right,” he cut you off. “About everything. Aeri really is selfish and a liar and manipulative, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

“No, that’s not-” you started to say.

“She’s been keeping secrets from me,” he interrupted once again. “Hiding things from me, and all I ever did was love her and trust her and give her whatever she needed. I thought I could help her become a better person, you know? Really learn how to love herself so she could see the wonderful person I saw inside of her. I thought she’d changed, but, I guess it just wasn’t possible.”

“She isn’t hiding anyth-” you tried again.

“So, yeah,” Jin huffed out sadly. “That’s it. That’s my life with the woman of my dreams, or I guess it’s more of a nightmare now. I don’t know how I can stay married to someone who lies to me and-”

“Will you shut up for one second?!” you cried out.

Jin paused his monologue and tilted his head to look at your fuming form. The gloss over his eyes made you sad, and more than anything, you wanted to relieve the melancholy oozing from his full lips. You lifted your hand to reveal the fork Aeri had given you earlier. His eyes widened, but his emotional grid just shifted from woe to fury.

“You see?” he pointed out. “That’s your fork! I couldn’t find it after you threw it at my head that night. I’ve been trying to figure out how I was going to talk to you after our fight and I knew that fork would be the perfect conversation starter. Aeri was hiding it from me and I found it. She probably has my spoon hidden somewhere in the house, and I promise you, I’m going to find-”

You pulled the spoon out of your pocket and his heated rant came to an abrupt stop, and you saw confusion creep across his temples and down to his befuddled expression. You could tell he was trying to work out the equation you’d laid before him, but he was having trouble solving it. You put him out of his misery and placed both utensils on the counter and then wrapped your arms around him.

Jin returned the embrace without a second thought and you both settled into a comfortable and soothing silence, only interrupted briefly by the occasional heaving sigh from one or the other. You patted his back and stepped away to hold up both the fork and the spoon in front of his face.

“Aeri didn’t have your spoon,” you affirmed. “I did. Before you even ask, I don’t know why I had it. It just appeared in my things and I found it completely by accident. She did have my fork, but she had her reasons for not telling you about it.”

“How do you know that?” Jin pouted slightly. “What? Are you and Aeri friends now or something?”

“Or something just about covers it,” you nodded. “She just pulled me into a dark room without warning and spilled the tea about all of this, and you know what I realized as she was crying her eyes out over this?”

“What?” Jin muttered grumpily.

“That girl honestly loves you,” you stated simply. “Like hand over my heart, grab a bouquet of flowers, and gag me with that stupid spoon of yours LOVES you. I was so blinded by my hatred of her back then, I never gave her a chance to be anything but the conniving witch I knew her to be. But all of that was before she met you, my handsome charming cousin.”

Jin’s expression softened considerably, and he leaned back against the counter, dropping his gaze to the floor. You took that as a sign to continue.

“I underestimated you, Jin-Jin,” you admitted. “I should have trusted your choices and put more faith in your judgment. Before Aeri, I never questioned anything you did. It was unfair of me to judge her so harshly, especially since you were so sure of her fidelity and loyalty.”

Jin lifted his eyes to meet your own, and he offered you a small smile. He reached over to take the spoon into his hand and his smile widened.

“Do you know why people never bring spoons to a party?” he asked. “It’s because they cause quite a stir.”

You groaned loudly and threw your head back to stifle the impending chortle from escaping. You should’ve been ready for one of Jin’s lame dad jokes, but they always caught you off guard.

“Come on,” Jin demanded. “Laugh! You know you want to.”

He poked your side with the spoon and you released the laughter you’d held hostage after he delivered his punchline. It took a few seconds to stop his incessant spoon attack, but he eventually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“Oh, 고구마/goguma (sweet potato),” he sighed. “What am I supposed to do with you? How many times must I tell you that I am always right and I know what I’m doing? How could you even doubt me for a second? You really should have more faith in me.”

“You’re one to talk, 감자/gamja (potato),” you teased. “I wasn’t the only one who lost faith here. You never called me after that night, and you were always the first one to apologize and set things right whenever we got stupid.”

“Well, I would have” he argued. “But I couldn’t find your stupid fork. I couldn’t make anything right without giving that back to you, even after you threw it at my head and told me to “go fork myself.” That was a good one, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you giggled, while picking up your fork. “It just came to me in the moment.”

You heard a commotion behind you and you both turned around to see Aeri lingering in the doorway. She was shifting nervously against the door frame and biting on her lip. She looked like she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how to begin. You looked up at Jin who nodded at your silent request. You hugged his side and then walked over to Aeri.

Before she could say a word, you wrapped your arms around her and gave her a big hug. She was flabbergasted and immediately started sobbing against your shoulder. You tried to pull away to calm her down, but she melted against you, dripping tears and snot all over your shoulder. It was hard not to be grossed out by it, but you endured the discomfort for the sake of the moment. You were trying to mend the relationship between all three of you, and pushing her away for covering you in disgusting wetness would just have to be overlooked at the moment.

“Aeri,” you murmured against her head. “I have something to say to both you and Jin. Why don’t you go over to the counter so we can talk?”

She looked over to Jin and she hesitated, but he opened his arms to her and beckoned her forth.

“Come here, 여보/yeobo (honey),” he cooed. “It’s ok.”

She flew into Jin’s arms and buried her wet face into his broad chest. It was adorable how small she was against your cousin’s side, but somehow they fit together perfectly. It made your heart soar to see the love pouring out of Jin’s face and reciprocated in Aeri’s.

How did I never see this side of them?

“Well, I feel like I owe both of you an apology,” you said. “I was unfair to both of you, and I regret not giving either of you my blessing. I’m a horrible cousin, and I entirely take the blame for this family drama. I started it, and now, I’m finishing it.”

You stepped forward and took one hand from each into your own. They smiled at you and Jin’s eyes were sparkling with happiness.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you stated. “I hope that we can move forward from today and be cousins, the way we should have been from the moment Jin decided to marry you. From here on out, I want us to be friends.”

“Best friends,” Jin agreed. “I won’t even bother to say something silly like soulmate. I’m sure Taehyung would kill us if we even dared. Speaking of which, how is he?”

“He’s-” you started to say.

“TTALGI!” came a loud screech from outside.

“Loud,” you groaned. “And annoying. Did I mention the annoying part?”

You all laughed at that, and you noticed that the two of them were getting restless against each other.

That’s probably my cue to leave.

“I’ll give you two a moment alone,” you suggested. “I need to go wrangle my ridiculous soulmate before he causes any trouble.”

“Wrangle?” Jin mused. “Or did you mean to say strangle?”

“Either,” you quipped. “Both of them will get the job done.”

You stalked your way outside, leaving the two lovebirds to make up in the kitchen and wandered around the side of the house to find Taehyung slumped against the brick exterior, seemingly distraught.

“Tae?” you worried. “What happened? Is everything ok?”

Taehyung’s eyes were glassy and his serene expression was reminiscent of a drug addict riddled with chemical euphoria.

Fucking Sana! Did she get him high again?!

Your cousin dabbled in edibles, and she was crazy good at making them. She knew everything there was to know about the different strains and their medicinal and recreational applications. If she wasn’t so damned good at welding, she probably would’ve opened her own dispensary.

“Tae,” you reasoned cautiously “Please tell me you didn’t eat a gummy or a Rice Krispie treat again. I don’t want to have to explain your condition to your mother while you’re trippin’ balls.”

Whatever high Taehyung was riding, it seemed to be smooth, and as he focused in on your face, the haze seemed to clear and his pupils dilated further, which only fueled your drug theory.

“My beautiful, beautiful soulmate,” Taehyung gushed. “You have no idea how happy I am right now and I have you to thank.”

“Me or Sana?” you snapped. “I swear to goddess, Kim Elizabeth Taehyung, if you don’t start explaining yourself right fucking now, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He took a deep breath and stepped forward to cup your cheeks with his gorgeous hands. There was a sparkle in his eyes you’d never seen before and you started to rethink the drug theory. Taehyung’s thumbs softly brushed across your cheeks, soothing your fears away with each stroke.

Before you could ask any questions, Taehyung dipped his lips and pulled your face to meet his own in the softest kiss he’d ever given you. He held you in place while he continued to caress your lips in a sensual waltz that only he could hear. The affection he lavished upon you left you trembling with anticipation, and the heat between your thighs increased with each languid suckle.

When he finally ceased his assault on your lips, he leaned his forehead against your own and released a satisfied hum. He then pulled away to show you his phone. There was a voicemail message on it and he played it on speakerphone for you.

“Hey, Taehyung, it’s Yoongi. I don’t know if you were actually serious about that marketing job thing, but it turns out I will have a full time position opening up soon. If you’re really interested, give me a call. I know your work pretty well already, and I think your style could bring something unique to the team. I won’t be back in town for another couple of weeks, but my cousin Namjoon is available to go over the details with you. Call me back when you get a chance. Later.”

Your jaw couldn’t drop any further and your eyes were reaching maximum width. As the information gradually coalesced into solid news in your brain, the rhetorical questions bubbled to the tip of your frontal lobe.

Yoongi wants to offer Taehyung a job?! What?! And did he say Namjoon...Kim Namjoon?

Taehyung’s grin was so wide, you were afraid it would split his skull in half. He broke out into his celebratory dance and started grinding up against you in the process. You were still reeling from his big news, and your brain felt like it had short circuited.

What the hell was happening right now?

“Tae!” you gasped. “What does this mean?”

“It means,” announced your soulmate. “That I, Kim Elizabeth Taehyung, may soon be working with the one and only Min fucking Yoongi.”

“I don’t understand. How did this happen?” you questioned him. “What about the job you already have?”

“Ttalgi,” he grinned. “If Min fucking Yoongi is seriously offering me a job marketing his music, then fuck that other job. This is my dream job, babe. I will be the Ultimate Director of Marketing, or DOM, if you will.”

You rolled your eyes at his crude innuendo and tried in vain to find something to say to him that might appeal to his sense of rationality, but you came up short. Taehyung was far too engrossed in celebrating this amazing turn of events to notice your growing apprehension.

Why were you suddenly feeling uneasy about this?

“Isn’t this a little sudden, Tae?” you argued. “I mean, we literally just saw Yoongi like a day ago. Do you think his offer is real? How can you be so sure that this is a legitimate offer?”

“If it’s legit, how can I say no?” he shrugged. “This is a huge opportunity for me, not to mention for my career. I can’t second guess anything right now, ttalgi, not if the reward is something I’ve dreamed about doing since I was a kid. You’ve seen my sketch book. How many album covers did I design? How many posters? How many times have I seen marketing campaigns for musicians and said that I could’ve done better?”

“I know, Tae-bear, but you shouldn’t make any hasty decisions. You didn’t already call him back, did you?” you asked. “Please tell me you’re going to think about this first.”

“What’s there to think about?” he responded. “I already called him back and I’m meeting with his cousin and lawyer, Kim Namjoon, in a few days to discuss the job. If I like what I hear, then I’m putting in my two weeks notice and starting a new job with Genius Labs, Inc.”

“When and where are you meeting him?” you scowled. “Are you ditching me during our soulmate spring break, Elizabeth?”

“No, baby, I would never,” he smirked. “Namjoon is going to be in town to meet with the university about a fundraiser. After we get back to your place, I’m supposed to go by the new Genius Labs studio office across town. Apparently, they set up a local office to help coordinate all the philanthropic work the company does with the university. That’s where I will be working if they hire me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yoongi and Taehyung working together? Kim Namjoon suddenly reappearing in your life again? What kind of twisted reality were you living?

I don’t know if I’m ready to have so much of my past and present mixing together.

“I hate to kill my own buzz, babe,” Taehyung interrupted your thoughts. “But I just heard Jin announce that the food is ready and I’m starving. I am going to need a lot of energy if we’re going to celebrate later, yeah?”

You snapped your head up to look at his devilish smirk and the sinful glint in his eye. Seeing that hunger building in his mind tugged you away from your anxiety monster and pulled you closer to your hormone demon. You reached up and slid your fingers into his hair and then pulled back slightly, just enough to make him hiss. He pushed your back against the brick wall in response, caging you with his strong arms.

“Then let’s finish family dinner,” you purred. “Then we can go home for dessert.”

Taehyung reached down and slapped at the side of your ass, making it jiggle slightly. He bit on his bottom lip and then gazed deeply into your eyes. His dilated pupils were teeming with lust and you knew you were in for a wild ride.

“Careful, ttalgi,” he warned. “Don’t start games you don’t intend to finish.”

He planted a heated kiss on your lips, complete with a teasing swipe of his tongue and a nibble on your bottom lip. Before you could get carried away, Taehyung pulled you away from the wall in the direction of the party.  The two of you walked to the backyard hand in hand and enjoyed the rest of the evening with your family.

After dinner was served, Sana managed to escape to go see her girlfriend at some point, and Jin disappeared inside with Aeri. You and Taehyung saw that as an opportunity to dip out gracefully as well. You stealthily discarded your plates and sneaked out the back gate.

You decided to go back to your house, since your parents would be at the graduation party for at least a few more hours. You and Taehyung made sure to get fully inside your locked bedroom before going completely feral on each other and tearing clothes off each other like crazed sex maniacs.

You were in the middle of a 69 position when Taehyung thought it would be a good time to talk about the future. With his fingers dipping steadily into your drenched core, he started up a casual conversation.

“Babe,” he mused after suckling on your clit. “If I get this job, I’ll need to find a place to live. Any suggestions?”

You moaned around the tip of his swollen cock and released it with a popping noise. He hissed at the sensation and started twisting his wrist with each slide into your swollen pussy.

“Ah,” you moaned. “I guess...ah...you could always...ah...stay with me until you...ah...found a place.”

You started stroking his quivering length and you dropped your head down to lick at his balls with each stroke. He groaned wantonly and thrust up into your hand to increase the speed.

“That’s a good idea, ttalgi,” he gritted out. “You’re so fucking smart.”

His tongue snaked its way into your folds and started penetrating your tightening hole over and over again. His stiff pink muscle slid up and down your fleshy walls collecting every ounce of arousal it could.

Your second orgasm was approaching and Taehyung wasn’t interested in edging you out this time. He started stimulating your clit along with his tongue fucking and it rapidly ruined any composure you had left. You barreled across the climax finish line and fell forward into Taehyung’s lap, convulsing slightly from the overstimulation.

Taehyung planted one last kiss to your dripping entrance and rolled you around so he could spoon you from behind while also slipping into your soaked pussy in one fluid motion. He started a steady rhythm against your hips and pulled you against his chest so he could play with your stiffened nipples.

“I’d really like that, babe,” he admitted. “You and me finally living together? Think about all the fun we could have. It will be amazing.”

“You’re amazing, Tae,” you purred. “Always fuck me so good.”

“That’s right,” Taehyung agreed while increasing his pace. “I know what you like, when you like it, how you like it, where you like it. I know everything about you, ttalgi. Just like I know that you’re about to cream all over my cock in just a few seconds.”

With one of his hands pulling on your nipple, one stimulating your clit, and Taehyung’s teeth biting down on your collarbone, you felt another orgasm careen over your skin, leaving you a moaning mess. Your moans only increased in pitch when you felt Taehyung releasing hot spurts of cum inside of you just a few moments later.

You laid in each other’s arms, cuddling while his erection softened inside of you. Taehyung pressed another kiss to your temple and sighed happily against your ear.

“If this all works out,” he pondered. “We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. Are you sure you’re ready for that, ttalgi?”

Taehyung’s voice was laced with concern and you couldn’t blame him. This wouldn't be a silly college roommate situation for the two of you. Both of you were working adults with adult responsibilities and you’d never lived together before. You’d both had roommates before, but they were basically strangers to you. This would be starting a new chapter of your life with someone you’d known since you were a small child. The looming history between you and Taehyung had pervasive possibilities.

Can Taehyung and I live together without any unintended consequences?

Looking at his hand cupping your breast, you smiled and twisted your face to kiss at his fingertips. You turned in his grasp and tilted your head up to pull him into another kiss. The unprecedented worry in his eyes surprised you, and you wanted to allay any concerns he might have.

I shouldn’t worry about something like this. This is Taehyung. Good or bad, we always figure out a way to make things work.

“I’m not worried, Tae-bear,” you told him. “As long as I have you in my life, I know everything will be divine. I’m always going to be here for you, my gorgeous soulmate.”

Taehyung’s face lit up and he hugged you tightly against his chest. You both released a sigh of satisfaction and then settled into the pillow, his face inhaling your hair as he drifted off to sleep. You relaxed in his hold and smiled. Even though the future was filled with unanswered questions and lingering doubts, you were confident that everything would turn out well, especially if you had your Tae-bear to rely on. You snuggled against your soulmate and breathed in his comforting scent as your mind drifted into slumber.

I don’t know what you’re up to, Universe, but you might have some explaining to do.

Author’s Note: Thus ends the chapter with Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself, THE Kim Seokjin. Things are definitely spinning out of control with Tae, Yoongi, and Namjoon making an appearance in the last chapter. I hope you’re all ready to see who she ends up with in the end. Any guesses?

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Chapter Five: There’s Still Sunshine When He’s Gone

NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter Seven: Too Many Keys, Just One Door

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma​‘s MASTERLIST

[altarflame]

Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time.   My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave.  I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day.  But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.  

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA.   *MILLS*  . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often.  I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest.  I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time.  I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it.  I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little.  And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good.  I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day.  I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill.  The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently.  We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous.  He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb.  So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love?  How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on.  I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW.  I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all).  Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3

[loubuggins]

Fluff bingo : "I'm proud of you" for bbrae? (bonus if it's Raven saying it to BB)

Sorry for the wait! I’m finally out of school and able to focus on my writing again! Anyway, thanks for being patient and I hope you like it! XD (Warning: It gets angsty and whompy down there)

With an exaggerated huff, Raven closed her book with a notable slap of the pages. She dropped the book on the empty side of the bed and her scowl deepened as she glared violet daggers at the incriminating spot, serving as a reminder of the source of her irritation. She glanced over to her other side and read the alarm clock that sat by her headlamp on her nightstand. The bright red numbers flashed repeatedly, giving the dimly lit room an eerie crimson glow.

The sorceress inwardly growled as she realized how late in the evening it was. “He had promised he’d come to bed tonight.” She thought bitterly to herself as she pulled her duvet off her body and slung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“This is the third night in a row!”

As she continued her mental scolding of her husband, she left the comforts of her bed to grab her robe hanging in her closet. She slid the plush, royal blue robe over her body and tied the belt loosely across her waist. It was not as if she had much to hide, given she was wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, but she did not want to run the risk of one of their teenage occupants catching her in her sleepwear.

The door to their bedroom opened with a quiet swoosh as she practically stormed out and then down the hall toward another door labeled “Evidence Room.” She recalled all the times her dearest friend, Kory, had ranted about having to drag her current husband out of this room in the wee hours of the night. She had sympathized then, but she had never thought that she would one day experience the same annoyance. The realization hit her like a brick and she could not help but wonder if it was something about leading a team that made one feel the need to deprive their body of precious sleep.

Fend up with his unhealthy behavior, Raven decided not to give him the pleasure of knocking and instead opted for phasing through the door using her magic. A human-sized obsidian portal engulfed the center of the door and without so much as a blink, the demoness flew through it. When she came out the other side just a half second later, she expected him to jump from his seat in surprise or be passed out over a mountain of paperwork that laid on his desk. But to her shock and dismay, she saw neither reaction from her lover. What she witnessed was a man hunched over his empty desk with his face buried in his arms. All the files, newspaper clippings, and other types of evidence were scattered on the floor as if someone had swiped a hand clear across the top of the desk, sending all the contents flying through the room. The man’s back raised with each sob that racked his body and although Raven could not see his face, she knew it had hot tears streaming over his cheeks.

It took him a moment to realize he was no longer alone in the study. Raven heard him suck in a deep breath through his nose and he made an effort to choked back his sobs. He turned his head as he wiped the tears from his eyes using the sleeve of his white and purple uniform. An uncomfortable pause lasted between them as they both waited for him to speak. With another deep breath, he finally spoke up, but his voice still shook despite himself.

“Wh-what do you want?”

Raven flinched at the harshness in his tone, but she knew it was only misdirected anger on his part. Stepping further into the room, she forced her eyes to remain on him.

“It’s 12:53.” She stated simply as if that should be enough to explain everything. Only, the green-skinned man did not reply to her. Instead, he bowed his head, trying in vain to hide in the shadows of the poorly lit room. His lamp had also fallen victim to whatever outburst he had before her arrival and now laid broken on the tiled floor. The only light now was the natural shine of the moon that pushed through the blinds of the large window facing the ocean.

“Just give me a minute.” He finally replied to her, but his tone was dismissive and final. She did not need her empathic powers to tell he did not want her to broach the subject.

Still, she was his wife, his partner in life and in death, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor. He may not have wanted to talk about his feelings, but it was her job to know. Whatever it was that was bothering him, it pained her to see it push him to such anger and vulnerability. She could not say how many times he had chipped away her walls and weakened her mental barriers in pursuit of understanding and love. No matter how much she pleaded with him to let her carry her burdens, he was always there to remind her that she would never again be alone.

“Gar…” She said his name, sounding out each syllable as she closed the distance between them.

“No Raven. I don’t want to talk about it.” He tried to cover his face with his hand and turned his back to her as she came inches away from his shoulder. Her short stature made her stand just at his ears, even as he sat hunched in his chair. Tenderly, she ran her small, porcelain hands over the muscles of his shoulders and down to his chest. She pressed her breasts against his back and laid her chin in the crook of his neck.

“Raven…please…” He begged her just when she placed a lingering kiss where her chin rested.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” She clarified and tightened her embrace at the moment she buried her nose in his warm, sage skin. She inhaled his lively aroma, a unique blend of scents that reminded her of trekking through the heart of the woods right after a summer storm. “Just tell me how to make it better.”      

A heavy sigh escaped the changeling as his hands abandoned his tear-stained face and wrapped around the ones she had hugging his chest. Graciously, he gave her right hand a gentle squeeze, then leaned to press his lips on her bare knuckles, returning the intimate gesture she had given him. When he pulled away, he allowed his head to fall back and lean into the silky strands of his wife’s long plum hair. They stayed like that for a few heartbeats, listening to the sound of the other’s breathing and soaking up each other’s scent.

“Tell me honestly, Rae. Am I failing them?”

His question shattered their peaceful silence and taking advantage of her distracted state, all his emotions came barreling past her walls and consumed her empathic senses. Her embrace tightened once more as she clung to him like an anchor as she began to lose herself in the sea of his self-loathing and utter defeat. For years she had known of his own personal demons that he struggled to fight every day. She knew of the times he had felt at his lowest and of the times he felt like a waste of space. It seemed like no matter what she did or told him, nothing could prove her love for him. For you cannot reason with the devil.

But that would never stop her from trying.

“Why would you say such a thing?” She whispered into the collar of his suit, nuzzling his wet cheek.

“I can’t find this…this…whatever it is!” He shouted, tossing his hands into the air and breaking her hold on him. She stumbled back a few steps as she caught her balance, but jumped at the sudden bang of his fists as he slammed them into the metal desk. He cried out in pain and frustration, but she remained still where she stood, giving him space to release the emotions that have been building inside him for so long.

“There’s some thing going around the city, terrorizing people, and it’s our job to stop it!” He continued rave as he stepped away from the desk and began pacing the room.

“It’s my job to stop it, because I’m the leader of this team and they all look to me for the answers!” His voice broke at the end, his fingers pulling at the tufts of his jade hair.

“I’m supposed to know how to stop this thing. I’m supposed to lead them into battle, towards victory! But how the hell can I do that when I can’t even figure out what this fucking thing is!”  

He stopped his pacing and flung himself against the wall. The objects that hung from it shook as his back slid down and he fell to the floor. He covered his face with his bent knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. This time, he openly wept, his tears soaking the pant legs of his uniform. His elvish ears drooped back like a frightened dog.

More than anything, Raven wanted to go to him and take away his pain. She was a healer and part of her gift was the ability to take away one’s emotions and if she truly wanted, she could replace them with her own. It would so easy to reach for him, take his head in her hands and suck the grief he felt right out of him. Within a matter of seconds, she could make him feel only love and happiness, banishing every treacherous thought from his mind. But she knew better. Experience has taught her that taking away one’s inner pain, would never be enough to heal them. The infliction he felt was not a wound she could make stitch itself back together. No, as long as he punished himself like this, no amount of magic would be enough to help him. Right now, at this moment, he didn’t need Raven the Titan. He needed Raven, his wife.

“Garfield…” She began as she closed the distance between them once more. She dropped to her knees and put her hands over his ears and her fingers through his hair. “…look at me.” It was not a request, but a demand. One he did not possess the strength to deny. Slowly, his face lifted from his legs and his emerald eyes lined with red from his crying met her deep violet gaze. He looked embarrassed, ashamed of appearing so weak in front of her, but he also looked empty, broken, as if he lost his will to care about that anymore.

She frowned at him and her own eyes began to water, newborn tears pooling at the edges, threatening to fall down her rosy cheeks. In a steady, circular motion, she rubbed her thumbs across the tops of his jawline. Slowly and clearly, she spoke out each word, pushing all her love and determination into every syllable.

“I. Am. So. Proud of you.”

The shapeshifters eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly a gap, his long, white fangs peaking out in a way she normally would have found endearing.

“Wh-what?” Was all he could pronounce in his bewildered state.

The corner of her lip twitched upward as her expression softened. “I’m proud of you, Garfield.”

She waited a moment to allow her declaration to sink in.

“These kids should count themselves lucky to have such a caring and devoted leader among them. You put more heart and soul into this job than anyone else I know.”

Using the pad of her thumb, she swiped it over a tear that tried to run down his cheek.

“You aren’t perfect my love. No one is. Not even Superman himself can make such a claim. But you can’t let that stop you.”

His hands traveled to arms and held her there, his eyes dropping to floor bashfully as she highlighted one of his greatest insecurities.

“I won’t tell you that you’ll catch this, whatever it is. But I will tell you that it doesn’t matter either way. What matters is that you keep trying. You keep pushing. And you show these kids how to be a hero even when you lose. Because having the courage to fight anyway, is what makes a true hero.”

Lifting his gaze to meet hers again, he stared into dark, passionate eyes. He searched for a sign that she was lying, that what she said could never be true. But her eyes shone with an admiration that he could not comprehend.

“You’re my hero, Gar.” She stated as a fact, unarguably even for him. Then she leaned forward and touched her forehead against his own, her ruby red gemstone an icy touch to his naturally warm body, making a shiver creep up his spine.

“And your their hero too.” Her whisper touching his nose and breaking past the despair that had surrounded his heart. It filled him with joy and honor. For once he felt worthy of his title.

With a gentle push forward, he brought his lips to her own and kissed her out of gratitude and adoration. She returned the kiss and tilted her head to deepen it. Their lips moved in sync as sorrow turned into infatuation.

His legs straightened out in front of him as she climbed into his lap. She straddled him and wrapped her hands loosely around his neck. His tongue traced her bottom lip and instinctively she parted her mouth, granting him entrance. Their tongues twisted around each other and she quickly allowed his dominance, not in the mood to challenge him at this moment. His hands slid down her throat and held her head as if she were a dream about to fade away.

When both finally needed air, he slowed the rhythm of their kiss, then caught her bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled back. Their chests rose in a rushed unison as they filled their screaming lungs with precious oxygen. Raven’s eyes stared pointy at the muscles protruding from his skin-tight spandex suit and she licked her lips in response. The taste of him still lingering on her tongue.

“Let’s go to bed.” She breathed out with a huff, her eyes glancing up at him with a familiar desire and longing. A look that he eagerly shared.

“O-okay.” He panted, then went to stand up, but was pushed back against the wall with a thud.

Raven’s lips came barely a centimeter from his ear as she leaned forward and whispered in a sultry voice that made every hair on his body stand on end. “I want to show you how proud I am of you.”

And with they were gone. Disappeared through the darkness of a portal that opened beneath them.

[glamoursarusrex]

Mama Dick feat. Titans: What Makes a Hero

Grab your popcorn kids! This one’s a long one. Thank you to @raventrigonsdaughter for giving me this prompt based on “Listen to me, it’s going to be okay.” It’s not exactly what you wanted but I hope you enjoy it anyways. It’s a long one, but I enjoy heavy plots. Fill up my asks if you want anymore sappy Mama Dick adventures! Anyways enjoy!

Nightwing breathes heavily as he looks to the smoldering ashes of a building. He angrily shoves the arsonist to the police officers standing by.

“The school teaches the kids to be drones! I saved them! I saved them!” shouted the criminal as he was cuffed and stuffed into the cop car.

The scene around the building was chaos. The kids were divided by grades. Teachers and the students were covered in burn marks and bruises. Those with the heaviest burns were being taken care of by the emergency medical teams. Parents were trying to push behind the police perimeter to find their children.

Hawk and Dove carries the last of the kids from the ashes to the ambulances. It’s too soon to tell but luckily as of yet were no fatalities. Nightwing looked up to where Starfire and Beastboy, as a hawk, are circling the school to look for survivors. Nightwing puts a finger to his earpiece, “Anyone else?”

Starfire answers, “None that I can see.”

“Negative on my end too,” Beastboy adds.

Nightwing was relieved. He wouldn’t go so far as to say the mission was worth celebrating but he was glad the team got there on time. He looks to the final member of their team, Raven. He was most worried about her. Her job was to heal the victims that the medical team can’t help. As an empath, he’s worried that taking in a high volume of pain could be harmful to her.

When he approaches her, she is working on healing a burn on a boy’s leg. Nightwing notices that she is visibly shaken. “Hey, kiddo, are you okay?” he asks quietly.

Raven eyes dart around distracted. “Hey,” tries again. She still doesn’t hear him.

“Raven,” Nightwing pokes her shoulder. She jumps startled causing the boy she’s holding to yelp. She quickly puts him down. “Earth to Raven?”

“Yeah, sorry?” Rachel says unconsciously. Her eyes are still darting around as if she’s searching.

“Is everything alright?” Nightwing asks concerned.

Raven stands up and Nightwing studies her. “Yeah. Well- uh- I don’t know. I just can’t shake this feeling that something’s off.”

“Like what?”

Raven looks around, “like something’s miss-“

Raven’s eyes stop on the bare remains of the burnt building.  Her eyes widen and glow.

“Raven, what is it?” Nightwing asks. Raven takes off towards the building. He follows her.

“We missed one!” she calls.

“Raven, wait!”Nightwing makes to pursue. He can’t let her go in alone. What structure remained was on the verge of collapsing. Before he can go further a mother roughly grabs him.

“Where is my son?” she screams. Her face is red and puffy from crying. “He’s not with his class! Where is my son?”

Nightwing looks over the mother’s head and sees Raven disappear into the charred door way. He wants to pursue Raven but he can’t get out of the mother’s death grip without harming her.

“Ma’am I can’t-,“ Nightwing starts. She shakes his shoulders.

“You’re supposed to be the heroes and you can’t save my son?” she cries.

“Look ma’am we’re trying to-“

Nightwing quickly throws his body over the woman as the structure of the building collapses sending ash and debris everywhere. Nightwing covers his nose and coughs. He screams with a hoarse voice towards the fallen building, “Raven!”

“Nightwing!”

As the dust settles he can see Raven running towards them from the fallen building. She is carrying a dirtied mass in her arms. As she got closer, he could make out it was a small boy covered in ash and burns.

Raven seemingly falls on her knees. She quickly sets the boy on the ground. She is gasping as she feels for his heartbeat. “He was hiding under a desk. He was in there awhile. I should be able to take the ash out of his lungs and stop internal bleeding. He’s in so much pain.” Raven rambles hurridly.  

Her eyes and hand glows as she sets to work. The boy’s eyes glow as well. Nightwing is so relieved that Raven made it that he didn’t notice the Mother running up and shoving Raven off of the boy. Raven and the boy cry out in pain as their connection is severed. Tears stream down the mother’s face as she glares down at Raven. She pulls out Rosary and holds it menacingly in front on the hero’s face.

“Stay away from Matthew, Witch!” the woman growls.

“He needs immediate help! Please he’s in pain!” Raven pleads.

Nightwing places a hand on the woman’s shoulder trying to calm her. The other titans begin to gather but don’t interfere. Nightwing reasons, “Ma’am, she’s just like the rest of us. All she wants to do is help!”

The woman jerks her shoulder from under his hand. She takes a menacing step towards Raven holding the rosary like a shield.

“This thing is an abomination! My son’ll get help from good doctors. I’m not gonna owe anything to the devil!”

“You’re not going to owe me anything! His body is under too much pressure! If I don’t relieve, he’ll die no matter how good the medical attention! Please let me help!” Raven begs.”

“If he dies, it will be good and right and because God decrees it. I will not let him live by the hands of satanic evil!”

Raven for a moment looks speech less and on the verge of tears. Nightwing’s gut is boiling with fury. How could this woman look a 13 year old girl who just saved her son in the eyes and call her evil? Tears finally break from hiding. Raven pleads, “Please!”

The woman whispers “I am child of God.”

Raven whispers, “You can’t feel his pain!”

Raven extends a shaking hand towards the boy. The mother takes a violent step towards Raven forcing her to scoot away.

“I will not allow the hand of evil to caress my child!” the woman preaches.

“Please,” Raven begs through choked tears. The shadows around her dance. “I can save him! Let me relieve his pain, please!”

“I am a child of God. I do not give into Satan!” the mother calls.

Nightwing notices that Raven is on the verge of losing control. He needs to get her away from the civilians. “Starfire. Beast Boy get Matthew to the ambulance! Hawk. Dove. Help me!”

Starfire scoops the boy up. Beast Boy turns into a grey hound and they head towards the medical area. The mother doesn’t notice as her efforts are focused on Raven. Nightwing grabs Raven’s arm but her eyes are set on the retreating boy. She strains against him as she tries to follow Matthew.

“No! He’s going to die!” Raven screams. She tries to break free but Nightwing is keeping a firm grip on one arm. Hawk takes the other and they pull her away from the mother and the civilians. Raven’s demon strength is proving to be a challenge for both of them. But they are able to wrestle her away despite her struggles and protests.

Dove grabs the mother by her arm and guides her back to the medical area. The mother continues to fume, “I will follow the words and grace of the Holy book! And shall never fall prey to the temptations of the devil.”

Dove snaps, “We get it you’re a Bible toter! Too pure for this world! Good for you!”  

Hawk and Nightwing drag a stuggling and crying Raven to Nightwing’s car. Her shadows are going crazy. Her eyes are glowing a dangerous white. Nightwing finally pulls Raven to his chest as he whispers into her ear. “Rachel, things are gonna get so much worse if you lose control just breathe. Raven takes shuttering breaths in and out and Nightwing sways with her as Hawk opens the door on the passenger side for her.

As they head to the door, Raven makes a final plea, “Please, he’s hurt.”

Nightwing shakes his head as he helps her into the car. He closes and locks the door. He turns to Hawk, who’s fuming. “Hawk?”

Hawk growls, “that woman is a bitch! The way she spoke to Raven-“

Nightwing places a firm hand on his shoulder. “I agree. But unfortunately, what she says, goes.”

Hawk calms a bit, “Are you gonna be alright?”

Nightwing looks solemnly to the car, “Yeah. She needs me. Go to the others. Tell them Kori’s in charge.”

Hawk gives a curt nod and jogs away. Nightwing climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. He glances to Raven who is staring intently at the stitching on his dashboard. Her tear streaked face is heavy with fatigue. For a while they sit in heavy silence.

Dick slowly removes his mask. He looks over to her again. During their time together, he learned many things about her, one of the lessons was time. If she wants to open up, she’ll open up. That’s normally after she processes her emotions versus the chaos of the world around her. He also knew that despite his urge to hug her and tell her everything is going to be okay, he needed to be patient and wait for her make the first move of touch.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity she speaks. “I felt it.” She whispers. Dick had to strain to hear her.

“I felt his pain,” Raven continues. “I felt his physical wounds. I also felt his fear. He couldn’t communicate that he was hurt. He could hear every word we said but couldn’t speak. He was so scared of death. He didn’t want to die. He begged me to save him. He begged and begged. I never felt so much desperation and fear and-”

Raven chokes back some tears. Dick processes every word she is saying. His gut burns with a hollow pain at her experience.

“I couldn’t save him because of- “ She looks at her hands that are outlined by dancing shadows. They’re not as violent as before but they are still in tune to her emotions. “Now he’s going continue to suffer into death because of me.”

There was no center consul to obscure his path to her. So Dick closes the space between them and takes her hand. “Rachel, look at me.”

The girl looks into the eyes of her mentor. “Nothing you did had or will cause that boy to suffer.”

“But the mother-“

“-is a stubborn woman who decided to take her anger out on a 13-year-old. Not exactly a figure who I would base my self-worth from.” Nightwing says with a wry smile.

“But she said that I couldn’t save her son because I was evil.”

“What you did today was the furthest thing from evil. None of us even knew there was a survivor still in there. You did! And you risked a building crushing you to save him!”

“He’s still going to die in the end.” She says. Tears well up as she looks away. Dick squeezes her hand to pull her focus back to him.

“Do you think heroes are defined by how many people they’re able to save?” Rachel slowly shakes her head. Dick smiles. “Me neither. I think their defined by their commitment to doing good and the kindness in their hearts.” He places a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve never met anyone more committed to heroism than you. It shows. Even if that woman doesn’t see it, I see it. Kori, Gar, Hank, and Dawn see it. We’re beyond lucky to have someone like you on the team. I’m lucky to call you my family.”

Tears stream down Rachel’s face. She wraps her arms around Dick’s torso and buries her face into his shoulder. The fabric muffles her heavy sobs. Dick pulls her slightly onto his lap and rocks her as he soothes her.

He wishes his arms could guard her from the hate and fear that the world throws at her for who she is. Unfortunately, he knows he can probably never change the opinions of people like the mother. But for now, he can make sure he is there for Raven. To let her know it’s alright to confide in him and to trust him. He rests his hand on her hair and pulls her closer to him. He whispers with quiet strength, “Listen to me, it’s going to be okay.”

[elanorjane]

Picture of Beauty (Ch 6/?)

Summary:  Fashion house Jefferson-Mills needs inspiration. Photographer Gold believes a librarian he photographed by accident has what it takes. Now it’s up to Gold to turn Belle into a model worthy of Paris Fashion Week. Based on the movie Funny Face. 

AO3

“She’s not answering,” Regina paced in the conference room. She glared at her phone in annoyance as it continued to ring. They stayed at the Grand Pigalle Hôtel because that’s where the up and coming designers tended to congregate. But because of their hotel’s tight quarters, they’d booked the Salon Jeu de Paume at the Le Meurice down the street. The room had a private location at the back of the hotel and an abundance of natural light. Along with the neutral tones of the walls, it was the perfect place for fittings and hair and makeup tests.

If only the model and photographer had shown up.

Regina put the phone on speaker so everyone in the room could share her misery. The endless ringing echoed through the room as she alternated between Gold and Belle’s phone numbers.

Jefferson reclined among a sea of dresses with his feet propped up on an expensive table. He looked like one of the frescoes that decorated the walls. “Did you try Gold’s room?”

Regina stopped mid-stride. “Why would she be in Gold’s room?”

“Maybe,” he drawled, “they have a good reason for not answering.” He wiggled his eyebrows just in case she hadn’t caught his full tone of innuendo.  

“Not on my dollar, they don’t.” They were basing an entire look book and Paris Fashion Week show around one, plebeian girl. Regina stared at the hair and makeup people milling about the room. Garment men yawning as they fiddled with measuring tape and thread. Men readying the cameras and lighting, pointing the lamps at no one. Grace was at least enjoying the use of the room. She was twirling and prancing around the room, pretending to be a princess at a ball.

Regina saw dollar signs.

“We’ll use someone else,” she declared.  

Jefferson sat up, “We will not.”

The door to the conference room opened and Gold slipped into the room.

“Where have you been?” Regina hissed, looking behind him.

The six hour time difference played havoc with his sleep. While he didn’t like to admit it, Gold was a creature of habit. He loathed these trips they took a few times a year. To him, Paris was yet another city seen through a photo lens and hotel room window. Despite the alarm, he’d woke late and struggled to shower, shave, and dress in his tiny room where nothing was where it normally lived. The hotel was too trendy and hip for his tastes and the wallpaper made him dizzy. He felt hungover in a way he only got on these cross-continental trips.

On top of that, his knee ached from all the walking and he was out one suit jacket. With his favorite camera in the pocket. Yes, he’d enjoyed the trip with Belle to the Eiffel Tower. She was good company. It was refreshing to be around someone whose cultural references didn’t begin with Coco Chanel and end with Coco Rocha. But it was a classic Jefferson scheme to heighten emotions. Honestly, he was relieved when he and Belle were handed two keys upon check-in instead of one. He wouldn’t have put it past Jefferson to cancel one of their rooms and force them to share.

Gold looked behind him, seeing no one.

“Where’s Belle?” Regina asked.

Gold scoured the room for a coffee urn. He only came up with champagne. Typical Paris Fashion Week. He rubbed his temples. “How would I know?” he asked distractedly.  

“You were with her all night,” she insisted.  

“No, I wasn’t,” he counted. He pointed at Jefferson, “You’re very cute, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Jefferson preened as if he’d meant it as a compliment.

“Didn’t she know what time to be here?” Regina persisted.

He growled, “Of course she…,” he broke off. Damn. He’d forgotten to tell her what time and where the test shoot was today. They were together all day and it had never come up. They'd talked about a number of topics but work had never come up.

“Something else on your mind?” Jefferson asked innocently.

Gold’s eyes narrowed. “Jet lag.”

Jefferson smiled. “Or amour,” he teased.

“Jefferson,” Gold rumbled, taking a step towards him. He was on too little sleep to be further aggravated.    

Jefferson’s feet plunked off the coffee table in case he had to make a break for it.

“Enough,” Regina cut in. “She wasn’t in her room when we left. We’ve left message after message at the hotel and she’s not answering her phone. Where would she be?”

Something was nagging at the back of his brain. But the time change and Regina’s badgering was making it impossible to retrieve. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“It was your idea to bring her here, Gold. I’m holding you responsible for her. This is a work trip. Not a free vacation for her to go gallivanting around Paris.”

His eyes snapped open. “I’ll have her here tomorrow morning at ten.”

***

Looking for her took him across the Seine and thrust him into the tourist traps of Paris. Non-Parisians came to the Left Bank looking for the romanticism promised to them in movies. Meanwhile, it had all the authenticity of Times Square. Thankfully, it only took him two cafes to find her.

There she was at Les Deux Magots. She sat primly in the red booth with a coffee tray and the remains of her breakfast in front of her. She was wearing a neon green sweater and black skirt with tights and heels. He had enough experience with high fashion to know it wasn’t an outfit she picked up in Storybrooke. She likely hadn’t picked it out at all. At least it was more weather appropriate than the tiny blue dress Jefferson had put her in last night. Again, the thought that she looked beautiful popped into his head. She looked fresh and bright and young. He was reminded all over again why he choose her for the Spring campaign. He knew Regina’s doubts were unfounded. People were going to fall in love with her.

He was so distracted he didn’t notice she was in deep conversation with the person at the table next to her. The man, roughly her age Gold couldn’t help but notice, loomed over her. As he approached he could hear the man’s thick French accent.

“The most sensible approach to true understanding and peace of mind.”

“Like sympathy?” she asked, leaning her chin on her hand. Whatever rubbish this buffoon was feeding her, she was foolishly eating it up.

His meaty fingers reached across her and traced the stem of her water glass. “It's based on empathy. Empathy is to project your imagination so that you actually feel what the other person is feeling.” The man’s spine straightened. “Like right now. I feel a hostile vibration.”          

“That would be me,” Gold stood in front of them.

“Mr. Gold,” Belle beamed up at him and he momentarily forgot to hate the man next to her. But the man refused to take the hint that Gold’s entrance was his cue to exit because he cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Belle jumped, “I’m sorry, this is...” She trailed off, blushing.

“Gaston,” the man supplied.

Gold ignored him. Something about this man brought out the punk kid from Glasgow in him. He thought he’d successfully left him behind in Scotland. Now he could feel it, flaring up inside of him. It screamed at him to flip over the table and reach for the knife he kept in the back of his waistband.  

“Gaston is teaching me about empathicalism,” Belle told him, oblivious to the storm raging inside of him. “Have you ever heard of it?”

Gaston was equally unaware of Gold’s animosity. “I have no doubt that in less than ten years, people everywhere will know that only empathicalism can bring peace. Peace through understanding is the only real…”

Tragically, wasn’t twenty years ago, and he no longer carried a blade. “Would you mind if I had my own conversation with the lady?” he interrupted instead. He turned to Belle. “Sleep well?” he asked tersely.

“Not a wink!” she chirped, not catching his tone. Hours after their trip to the Eiffel Tower, she still couldn’t drift off. So she’d given up and sat on her little balcony and watched the sun come up over the rooftops of Paris. When she got dressed, she’d found the majority of the clothes she’d packed missing. They’d been replaced with clothes she’d never seen before and they looked expensive. She thought somebody had mixed up her luggage until she found a note from Jefferson. It stated she’d get her clothes back on the return trip. She’d then followed her nose to a bakery around the corner from the hotel and had an éclair. From there she’d followed a tourist map all the way to the Left Bank.

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed. It had never occurred to her while reading her 19th century books that Paris was a modern city. Guitar shops and Japanese restaurants dotted the streets. The city didn’t hold on to its own nostalgia quite like she did. For some reason, sitting in Les Deux Magots failed to recapture the magic she’d felt at the Eiffel Tower last night. She was feeling a little down until the man next to her struck up a conversation. Well, a lecture, really, but she wasn’t complaining.  

“I thought maybe you had a dream and forgot,” Gold told her, disregarding Gaston watching them.  

Little crinkles appeared between her eyes. “Forgot what?”

“Your job. You were supposed to be at the modiste today.”  

She shook her head. “No one told me. As soon as the sun rose I started wandering around and I lost track of time.”

“Did you also lose the phone we gave you?” He didn’t even bother masking his anger.

Belle looked at her empty hands. “I’m not used to carrying a phone with me in Storybrooke. Everyone knows me there.”

Gaston rose, extending a business card to Belle. Gold clenched his fists to keep from slapping it out of his hand. “It seems I have interrupted a lover’s quarrel. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle. I invite you to my club to continue our conversation at any time.” He sent a warning look at Gold.  

“She’ll be busy. Working for me,” he broke in.    

Gaston stood to his full height. “Mademoiselle, whatever,” he looked Gold up and down, “arrangement you have with this gentleman. I can assist you.”

Gold took his words to mean he thought Belle was his kept woman. He didn’t hurry to correct him. If that’s what got him out of here faster, so be it.

“Thank you, Gaston. But I can take care of myself,” Belle’s voice wavered with anger but she controlled it, aware of the scene they were creating.

He nodded, “I will wait outside if you need me.” He brushed past Gold but hovered by the door.  

Belle stood, gathered up her things. “You didn’t have to be so rude!” she scolded him. “I can talk to whomever I want! Just because I work for you, doesn’t mean you own me.”  

Gold scoffed. “You’re angry I interrupted that rousing speech about a philosophy that doesn’t exist? I was doing you a favor!”

She glared at him. “This was a mistake. I never should have come here.”  

He sighed, “What did you think, Belle? You’d meet a man in Paris and live happily ever after?”

The hurt showed in her eyes. “So what if I did? So what if I wanted to talk to him? So what if I wanted to sleep with him?”

Gold flinched at that.  

She shook her head. “Who are you mad at?”

Himself. He was mad at himself. He was mad because she reminded him how old and closed off he’d become. Belle wore her emotions for the world to see. She was open and honest and too good for the likes of him.  

When he said nothing, she looked over his shoulder. “Gaston,” she called. “I rather feel like continuing our conversation right now.” She stalked over to him, making a show of taking his proffered arm and not looking back as they marched out the door.

[empathicstars]

Aella and Mentor Suran’s Call

MENTOR: Aelliana? AELLA: Greetings, Mentor. MENTOR: Aelliana. Greetings. Did we not agree to communicate at an earlier date? AELLA: Yes, sir. I extend my apologies. MENTOR: Why were you unable to keep our appointment? AELLA: I was asleep. MENTOR: (flatly repeats) You were asleep. AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: You were asleep at what would have been considered 1600 hours your time. AELLA: So I have said. MENTOR: Sarcasm, Aelliana? AELLA: Never, sir.

(There is a pause, to spell his silent acknowledgment and, perhaps, distaste, of her sarcasm.) MENTOR: Are you neglecting sleep? AELLA: I had merely been caught up in work, recently. MENTOR: Enough to neglect sleep? AELLA: (in a warning voice) Mentor. MENTOR: There is no way you can work at full capacity if you do not take care of yourself. AELLA: (tersely) Yes, sir. MENTOR: Can you not handle the pressures of being a lieutenant? AELLA: Mentor, I am fine. MENTOR: I thought you were in communications. AELLA: Mentor, you know I am a linguist. MENTOR: Then what could possibly be causing you such stress in your environment? The Enterprise has not been completed yet, has it? AELLA: No, it has not. We still have shifts, however. MENTOR: Shifts that you, perhaps, find... stressful? AELLA: Mentor, no more on this. MENTOR: If you are returning home, I need to be prepared. AELLA: I am not returning to New Vulcan. I have merely been involved with a... project. MENTOR: That is a vague word, Aelliana. AELLA: It is as direct as I can be about it. I have been told to communicate no further on it. MENTOR: … I do not understand. You are only a junior grade lieutenant. On what could you be working that-- AELLA: (hard) Mentor. MENTOR: Fine, Aelliana. Am I to assume there was a reason for contacting me? AELLA: Yes. I... broke my lyre strings. I wanted to know if you knew where I could get more. MENTOR: You broke your lyre strings. AELLA: Only two. MENTOR: Which two? AELLA: 10 and 13. MENTOR: How did you manage to break them? AELLA: I merely tuned too tightly. MENTOR: (flatly, obviously reading far into it) Is that so? (A beat.)  AELLA: Mentor, if there is something you need to say, say it. MENTOR: It is clear to me that you are not taking care of yourself. I am not sure you are well enough to return to Starfleet yet. AELLA: (hard and guarded) I am. MENTOR: Are you? So you have dealt with your experiences? You have moved passed them? AELLA: (still guarded) Yes, I have. MENTOR: So Starfleet is merely overworking junior grade lieutenants? AELLA: (hard) Mentor. MENTOR: If you are not ready to return to Starfleet, you-- AELLA: You did not seem to be very concerned with whether or not I was ready when I was sixteen. MENTOR: You still harbor ill will towards me? From something that happened over 10 years ago? If so, I cannot imagine it is possible for you to have recovered from the Nova. AELLA: Do not say that. It is completely different. The Nova was a moment -- a day. But your choice impacted my entire path for me. You chose for me. I can never be anything different. MENTOR: One may argue all parents influence their children's lives in such a way. AELLA: You are not my parent. MENTOR: Aelliana, you are being more emotional than normal. AELLA: (as if considering the true reason behind such) I am on a base full of humans. MENTOR: And you believe you are allowing them to affect you? AELLA: (open to the consideration) Perhaps. (There is a pause. Mentor seems to understand something by that answer.) MENTOR: What is it? (Another pause. Aella seems unsure -- but always settles on honesty when it comes to her mentor.) AELLA: I have made... friends. MENTOR: Oh? Fascinating. AELLA: One of them... will return home shortly. There will no way to contact him once he is gone. MENTOR: No way? AELLA: Do not question me, Mentor. Be assured I speak the truth. (A moment of silence. They are both considering something. Then…) MENTOR: Why have you chosen to pursue a friendship with him, if he should not be here long? AELLA: I do not know. MENTOR: Aelliana, your fear fo-- AELLA: I know. MENTOR: You have chosen to pursue a career in Starfleet. Correct? AELLA: Correct. MENTOR: Do you think his departure will compromise you in a way that may make it more difficult to pursue that career? AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: Then I do not see the logic of it. AELLA: (looking downwards -- voice saddened) No. Nor do I. MENTOR: You sound disappointed. AELLA: (back to being guarded and hard) I thought it was rude to read other's emotions to them, sir. MENTOR: I am not an empath. I am making an observation on your given tone. AELLA: Right. MENTOR: I am concerned about your level of emotion. Not just for the friend. AELLA: So am I. MENTOR: (pause) They are considering planting the ka’dirka flowers, Aelliana. AELLA: (hard) I am not coming back to New Vulcan. MENTOR: Perhaps you should. AELLA: This is what I have chosen. This is what I must do. MENTOR: Your duty, as it were? AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: I understand. But a... a job half-done is a job not at all done. AELLA: Yes, sir. MENTOR: Tell me about your friend. AELLA: Ah… why? MENTOR: Apparently, you cannot speak of your work. It may surprise you to know I have a vested interest in your life. (A long pause.) AELLA: I do not know what you wish to know. He is a human. Lieutenant Reg Barclay. MENTOR: Communications? AELLA: No. Engineering. MENTOR: How long have you know him? AELLA: I met him the first day I came to Yorktown. (as if an afterthought) I played my lyre for him. MENTOR: Did you? AELLA: Yes. He thinks I play well. MENTOR: (as if this means something to him) ... I see. AELLA: I have another friend. Commander Montgomery Scott. MENTOR: The commander? AELLA: Not of the ship, no. He is the chief engineer. Though I have also met the commander. Commander S’chn T’gai Spock. He is not unfriendly. He is Vulcan. MENTOR: I recall hearing of him. You seem to be more popular than anticipated. AELLA: Is it not strange? MENTOR: I did not say that. You appear to be close with some of your superiors. Does this have anything to do with your involvement in the project? AELLA: (clearly, slightly angrily -- as if to remind him) The project of which I have made it clear I cannot speak to you? MENTOR: (in innocence) Yes. AELLA: … No. And again, I cannot speak of it. MENTOR: Truly? AELLA: Truly. I have no wish to deceive you, mentor. MENTOR: No? Then have you recovered from the Nova? AELLA: (slightly exasperated) Lyre strings. I merely wanted to know if you had lyre strings. MENTOR: Aelliana, did you truly reach out to me merely because you could not find strings for your lyre? AELLA: It was the chief reason. I could not find any here. But it has been six months since I last saw you -- I supposed it probably made sense to call you. MENTOR: I see. AELLA: How goes it with you? MENTOR: All is as it was when you left. I have not been requested to move yet, though the Federation is working hard to help build New Vulcan. AELLA: It is unfortunate to hear that. MENTOR: Spare no worry for me, Aelliana. AELLA: Then you shall do the same for me. MENTOR: To quote you from earlier, Aelliana, it is different. I am your caretaker. AELLA: I am twenty-five years old. Even by Vulcan standards, I would be seen as an adult. You are no longer my caretaker. MENTOR: Unless you get decommissioned again, correct? AELLA: Mentor, I have asked you to speak no further on this subject. MENTOR: I do not see the logic in it. AELLA: Do you not have faith in me -- in my ability? MENTOR: Regardless of my perceived faith in you and your abilities, I do not believe you have adequately handled your feelings on this matter. You had great difficulty on New Vulcan. AELLA: I just needed time. MENTOR: Time does not heal solely. One must make a concerted effort -- AELLA: Stop, Mentor. Have faith in me or do not -- trust me or do not, I do not care. MENTOR: Aelliana, it is illogical to lie. AELLA: But you will stop questioning me on this. I am an adult. I am an officer. I will make my own choices. MENTOR: Your own choices? I see. So… will you be discontinuing your friendship with this… Lieutenant Barclay, that is leaving? Have you dealt with your terror of losing all those around you, or will you be discontinuing your friendship, as well, with that commander?   AELLA: I will be coming to my own conclusion on that. Either way, I will make the correct choice. The one that causes me the most fear. MENTOR: How is that the correct choice? AELLA: If I am choosing what scares me, then I am choosing for logic -- not for comfort. Not for emotion, but for strength. MENTOR: ... I see. AELLA: Will you send me the lyre strings? MENTOR: Yes, Aelliana. It will take some time, however. AELLA: I know. Thank you. MENTOR: Would you like some theris-masu, as well? AELLA: I would be appreciative of it. MENTOR: Then I hope to hear from you again soon. AELLA: Yes, sir. MENTOR: Goodbye, Aelliana. AELLA: Goodbye.

[seasonsofreckoningrp-blog]

Congratulations, Bru! You’ve been accepted for the role of Leon Valiente-Gardner. Please make sure to check our checklist, and you have twenty-four hours to send us your character’s blog. We’re really happy to have you in our family!

You had us with the family feels, seeing as both of us will be playing Leon’s siblings. You’ve brought him to life as the selfless and whole-hearted warlock that he is. Family obviously is a big and important factor to him and you’ve touched on his relationship with all three of them, especially with your headcanons about Spencer. It's beautiful how much you understood Leon and found every blank space in his past and filled it up with headcanons.

Introduction

Bru. 27, she/her.

Activity level:

Honestly, I can log on every day for at least one hour or so. My hours are flexible… sometimes my schedule gets crazy, but for the most part, I can log on every day.

Further contact:

[Removed]

How did you find the roleplay?

Magic ~~~. I’m jk. You guys told me about it <3

Roleplay experience:

I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now. I’ve done city roleplays, bio roleplays, oc roleplays, crossovers… I’ve met you both on SoR 1.0 and it’s been a crazy ride ever since. Most of the RPs I’ve been in, have been with Ev so she knows I’m a decent player.

Triggers:

[Removed]

Anything else?

[Removed]

IC INFORMATION

Desired character:

Leon Valiente-Gardner.

Faceclaim:

-

Why did you choose this character?

From day one, I’ve been in love with the idea of Leon and when I finally read his bio, it only made me want to play him even more. First and foremost let me talk about the family connections, which to me, is a huge part of Leon and one of the main reasons why I’m choosing to apply for him. Family is everything to him. It’s the people who’ve made him who he is, it’s the ones the love him the most, unapologetically and unconditionally. There’s nothing that he wouldn’t do if that meant protecting his family. And then we get to Eirene, which is basically like a second family to him. He’s more than happy to help the little ones understand their power and he’s always so eager to learn from the older members of the coven.

To me, he sort of breaks that trope where every popular guy has to be a jerk or a bully. I can see him as the class’ president, fighting for everyone’s place in the school, always trying to do better and to be better. He’s so filled with life and knowledge that it’s impossible not to feel drawn to him. I feel like people are drawn to both twins, but since Leon is the one who’s more in sync with people while Lena is in sync with herself and the nature around them, they tend to flock to him more often. The fact that he’s an empath also, is something that I’d love to explore because someone who can feel other people’s emotions and be able to ease the hard ones or to increase the good ones, but doesn’t really know how to handle their own emotions is definitely something interesting.

Leon is very diplomatic. He loves being around people and he loves hearing what they have to say, even if sometimes he might end up not agreeing with them. Besides, I think that being around people helps him escape his own mind and how much of a dangerous place it can be. The way he’s always putting others in front of himself is also another way of escaping his own thoughts, because the more he cares and worries about others, the less time he gets to spend alone with his own insecurities and the duality living in him. He always has a smile on his face to match his upbeat attitude, because if people don’t see the cracks beneath the surface, they won’t give up on their cause, which is peace no matter what. If he manages to stay strong for everyone’s sake, then he’ll have done his job.

There are two sides of Leon: one that he lets people see… the popular, friendly guy. The man who’s always there, offering you either a shoulder to cry on or some advice. The boy  with the childish grin who’s grown into a leader of his own people without overstepping Cassidy’s boundaries, the one who doesn’t want this war to get any worse. For the most part, he’s this light-hearted young man, who lights up the room with his attitude and his kindness; but every up has its down and then there’s the part no one ever sees… the ambitious, reserved and quiet man who’s struggling to put his pieces back together and who would love more than anything than to see his brother’s killers not getting away with what they’ve done. His soul, he feels has broken ever since Spencer’s death, and while he’s been trying to mend himself up, sometimes tempting thoughts end up creeping their way up to the back of his mind, leaving Leon to fight his demons by himself. I personally love those shades of grey in him. The struggle to keep himself together, because others need him, even though he’s falling apart.

Para sample:

Run.

It was like he couldn’t breathe. His mind was playing tricks again, giving him images of happy times with Spencer, only to have them taken away from him in a blink of an eye. His nightmares were usually bad whenever he felt like his energy had been drained, but this time it had happened after spending some time with Pari and even in his dream, Leon was confused. The darkness was closing in, making his heart race and making it harder for him to breathe. With a jolt, he was awake. His chest was heaving, the air coming in cold into his lungs as he pulled it with some strength. Leon blinked a couple of times, removing the pillow from its position behind him and pressing it to his face, screaming into it, as if it would help him get rid of the dark energy that still clung to his body just like his sweaty t-shirt that he had slept in, did.

As he lowered the pillow, he could’ve sworn he had seen a figure by the window, which prompted him to turn his bedside lamp on, but there was nothing there. Was he going crazy? No… not yet. With a quick jerk of his head, Leon climbed out of bed and hopped into the shower, hoping the jets would relax his muscles and empty out his mind so he could go back to sleep. After changing his sheets, watching as some droplets of water had marked his bed with wet dots, Leon still wasn’t tired enough, so he paid a quick visit to the kitchen, where, surprisingly, he found Cassidy munching on some fruit while reading on a book. As unexplainable as it was, Leon was immediately invaded with this sense of comfort just by the mere sight of his sister.

“Can’t sleep?” He offered them a smile as he pressed a kiss on their rosy cheek. His gaze was still on them, waiting for a reply as he moved through the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of juice, then joining them at the table. “Anything I can do?” His questions had two meanings: one, it meant to help Cassidy as a member of their coven, as a brother; and the other, it meant helping them as an empath. When Cassidy shook their head, thanking for the offer but denying it, claiming they had gotten distracted reading a book, Leon knew better than to push it. People didn’t like being forced to speak when they didn’t feel like doing so, besides, their expressions and manners didn’t read as a lie.

He offered them a smile, warm and comforting, before motioning his head towards the living room. “Since we’re both here and we both can’t sleep, how about we watch some TV? It’s not like I have an early class tomorrow.” And he also didn’t feel like meditating either. Deep down, deeply rooted inside him, resided some kind of fear of poking this darkness that sometimes haunted his dreams. This eagerness for power, the craving for more than it had been gifted him… he feared that by trying to understand it, Leon would open the door to something so crude and ugly, that would make him see himself as a completely different person, and you know—he liked who he was. He actually did.

An offer had been made and an offer had been accepted, which made him move to the living room, getting comfortable as Cassidy joined him on the couch. The house felt so silent this evening. If Spencer was still alive and awake, he would’ve wanted for them to watch some old cartoon, like Johnny Quest or Thundercats. Something colorful and lively. Something that would make everyone’s auras just a shade warmer. Remembering Spencer had always felt bittersweet to him. Out of everyone, Leon had always had this notion that he had felt Spencer’s loss the most, although it wasn’t like him to undermine or to think less of other people’s pain. Everyone in the family felt the blow. Everyone was still trying to make through the days.

Steps coming from behind the couch brought him back to the present as he felt his twin’s presence in the room. Was it possible that everyone had had trouble sleeping that night? “We’re about to watch that Nicole Kidman movie where she’s witch.” His childish grin was plastered on his face as Leon followed Lena with his gaze. “Do you want to join us? It always makes us laugh.”

Maybe this was exactly what he wanted to recharge his energies, some quality time with his family, watching some silly movie about witches, picking apart all the differences between what they were watching and what was actually real. He had hope that the next day would be better… for him, for his soul, for everyone in that island. That was all he could do, right? Hope.

EXTRA

Personality traits:

+ SELFLESS

+ DIPLOMATIC

+ CHARISMATIC

- COMPLEX

- PASSIVE

- SELF-SACRIFICING

Headcanons:

I. SPENCER: He visits Spencer’s grave every week. When his younger sibling was still alive, they were often found together, sharing stories and laughing about most things. Leon enjoyed teaching Spencer little fun facts about historical figures and watch as his brother would always come back, eager to learn more, so ever since his death, every week Leon picks a day out of random, usually when he’s feeling drained out and goes to the cemetery and has a quick chat with his brother’s grave, often sharing something new that he’s learned about this or that person. It’s a way to keep him grounded and sane, to make him feel like he’s still there.

II. LANGUAGES: Ever since he was young, Leon’s been walking around with his head stuffed in books. He’s taught himself Latin as a young teenager, which made it a lot easier for him to understand the ancient spells written in those old grimoires. During high school, fascinated by the myths, he’s learned Greek, just for the sake of learning something new. His eternal seek for knowledge also led him to learn how to speak French and Spanish during his time at Yale, and recently, he’s picked up on learning German, too.

III. NIGHTMARES: As an empath, you’re bound to let people’s emotions influence your aura somehow and it isn’t different with Leon. Sometimes, when he’s overwhelmed, he can feel his body physically tired, but unable to have a peaceful sleep. Emotions are tricky things and in Moon Island, they tend to be fickle and all over the place. The mix of his gift with his inner struggles often result in him suffering with vivid nightmares that wake him up in the middle of the night struggling for air. They don’t happen often and they definitely don’t pose a problem in his life… yet.

IV. RELATIONSHIPS AND SEXUALITY: Leon considers himself demisexual. While he has no preference towards genders, he cares little about sex itself. He’d rather connect with people first, to get to know them before they even begins feeling sexually attracted to them. He loves the nightlife in Moon Island as much as the next person and connecting with people is one of the best feelings for him, so whenever he finds someone who connects with him in that level, he wants to commit to them. So Leon’s had a few relationships in the past, some more meaningful than others, but all have taught him something. I’m not sure if people feel intimidated by the fact that he’s a Valiente-Gardner and that could be some kind of obstacle when it comes to being in a relationship with him. Lots of people don’t want the kind of responsibility that entails dating someone like him, so that could be a problem. I know that Leon’s last names weight a lot on his shoulders, he’s got huge shoes to fill, but I also think he tries his best to make people see him as more than just someone with important parents.

V. EXERCISING: Since his powers are abstract, Leon’s type of training consist mostly on keeping his body healthy and ready to defend him in case he needs to. Besides going to the gym, he does boxing classes and swims in his spare time, but also, doesn’t mind joining Helena in a yoga or meditation session whenever he feels like his mind’s getting too heavy.

I had a tag for him but I just realized that the hyphen isn’t letting the other posts show and now I’m sad. But I made a mockblog even though is not as pretty as I’d like it to be. HERE.

[youngwidowofbrooklyn]

Break.

And....I’m fucking sick again. Might as well be, since there’s not much else going right.

Listen - about my last few posts: I’ve had a lot of sweet warrior mother friends reach out to me to tell me how hard three is on a parent and that it will get better. And I really do know that that is true. But let me clarify something. This isn’t really about being the mother of a threenager. And I understand that as sensitive humans, we have a desire to see our own struggles in other people’s and to say, “It’s okay.” I appreciate it, I really, really do. But I hope to every end of the universe that there are very few people who can really empathize with the place I’m in. And not because I fancy myself a snowflake, but because I really don’t want you to know what this particular pain is, even as you want to throw me a rope to help me out.

Here’s the thing that I am really drowning in: My husband was admitted to the hospital before our son turned one. That was the moment he effectively ceased parenting our child, and I’ve been doing it by myself since then. And, yes, it’s difficult, it has been from the beginning of this journey. But there’s another piece to consider.

From the moment he was separated from us, my brain, my heart, my everything split into two. Half of me was desperate to be with my husband in his darkest days. Half of me was hungry to bury myself in the joy of watching my son grow up. Days spent on the subway, always in transit to the ends of two boroughs, my heart simultaneously yanked between the two places it wanted to be.

A year and a half ago, my husband ceased to exist on one side of that commute. A year and a half ago, he got released. But I didn’t. Only half of me exists in present tense. The other half is still on the number 6 train headed to Mount Sinai to put on latex gloves and play gin rummy.

If you have any tips on how to put my heart back in one piece, i’m all ears.

There’s this great quote from HG Wells - I’ve probably mentioned it before - from a short story of his: “No one can be grey and sad who is out of breath.” Yesterday morning I woke up with the intention of putting that into practice. After I dropped my son off at school, I went straight to the gym and sweat it out for 90 minutes. Then I came home and started a deep clean of my house.

And it was great, being in motion, being focused on tasks with the sensation of moving forward.

And then two things happened.

The first was that I had to call the New York State DMV to find out why there’s a hold on my license. I’ve tried several times to change my license and title/registration over to my new address, and last week, when I actually had all the proper documentation to finally accomplish this, I stood in all the lines, waited for over an hour to see a clerk, only to be told that there appeared to be a hold on my license that I needed to clear up. After calling last week and being told that I actually need to speak to someone in a different department.

Yesterday I finally spoke to a woman at the New York DMV who told me that it seems as though I fucked up big time - Apparently, I needed to turn in my New York license plates when I changed my car insurance to my out of state address. Since their records show that I do not have New York car insurance, they consider me in default and have suspended my ability to make any changes until I either turn in my plates or prove that I have New York insurance. And, of course, I’m more than happy to turn in my license plates, as I intend to register my car at my new residence - HOWEVER - according to the woman that I spoke to, the DMV (in a move that seems purely punitive) will not clear my record to allow me to get a new license and re-register my car until the same amount has passed as of that since I terminated my New York insurance. Did you get that? Because I sure didn’t when she first explained it to me. What that means is that because I changed my insurance in November, which was FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS AGO, that the state of New York will not clear my record until (if I were to turn in my plates today), FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS from the time that they receive my plates.

As this revelation sunk in, I started to have a panic attack. Is this for real? Am I being punished for such a seemingly common screwup? You’re going to take my ability to drive away for almost half a year for this? How am I going to conduct life, homeownership, parenting tasks without a car?

I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I honestly cannot fathom what further roadblocks the universe can throw in front of me before I crumble.

Add this to the fact that I cannot get approved for life insurance, and no one can explain to me why, even though I’ve signed all appropriate disclosure forms. No one will explain to me what warning flags are coming up in my history to make me too risky to insure. I’ve been trying and trying to sort this out ever since I moved.

All I want to do is take care of my fucking child and I despite my best intentions, it seems to be a damn near impossible feat.

So, I hung up the phone with this information - and the woman advising me that actually I need to speak to yet another department to get all the specifics, transferring me to said department, and hearing the message that that particular department is so fucking overloaded with calls that they are not even accepting any more incoming calls at this time. Stunned. Before I could register it, I let out a noise like a bleating calf and began to wail.

Three more calls yesterday, and one today, to receive the same message. No one will talk to me about this. I’m fucking trapped.

I drag myself up from the kitchen table and begin to throw myself back into housecleaning. Stacks and stacks of papers sorted and moved. Upholstery vacuumed. Litter boxes cleaned. 

And then, in the second catastrophe of the day, I did a really dumb thing. I saw a card on the coffee table. I don’t know why it’s there or for how long it’s been there, but I know what it is. It’s a card from my husband, I don’t remember what occasion, but I remember that inside I’ll find his chicken scratch note to me. I miscalculate, I think I’m strong enough to read it. It’s a beautiful, shimmery card - a picture of a beautiful peacock. Inside he’s written “Happy Mother’s Day, Love E&T” on one side. One the other he wrote “Thank you for working tirelessly. [Our son] is lucky to have you for his mom. And I’m lucky to have you for everything.” This was my Mother’s Day card the last year of my husband’s life.

And that’s when the bomb went off in my face and blew a whole straight through my chest. I’m doubled over, wailing, screaming and crying and shaking, and saying to myself, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” Over and over and over and over. It’s the day that he died all over again. I can’t control it and I cannot stop. He’s dead. He loved me so much and he’s dead and he’s been dead and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t put my life together without him and I can’t believe it.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Walking around my house, sitting on the stairs, shuffling to the couch, gasping for breath, making guttural noises like a child in a tantrum. Gulping and shaking and trying to clean and so very thankful that I was alone when it happened and grateful that there are still hours to go before I have to pick up my son and promising myself that I will get it together by then and my son will never ever see me in this state.

Finally I was able to calm down enough to realize that I needed to take an extra anxiety pill, and I did, and started to steady my breath and wait for it to take effect.

I need a way out. I need a break. Like magic, I get a mid-afternoon text from someone asking if I want a drink that evening. Want one? It’s absolutely necessary. And so I go through the rounds of finding someone to stay with my son so I can escape my life for a few blissful hours. Only to be met with “So sorry,” and “Not tonight - but next time!” and other versions of this.

The brief, shining promise of a respite flickers and fades, and I text back that I can’t make it out of the house. 

By now, the medication is embracing me in a warm, fuzzy hug, and I’m not so much devastated as I am just bummed out by the certainty of another night locked in the solitary confinement of single parenthood.

When I was a teenager, I used to do odd babysitting jobs every now and then. One particular family I remember - two kids (girls? I think) and a single mom. I hated watching those kids, because the mom invariably stayed out until 2 or 3 in the morning and paid me hardly anything. More than that, I remember judging her and feeling that she was a bit of a skank. Jesus, in those days, in that town, at my age, there was probably nothing worse than people suspecting you of skankiness. 

Years later, my mom, as mothers of grown children are apt to relay information from the homefront, told me that that woman I used to babysit for, had hung herself.

She was not me, and I am not her. But, you know, there are only but so many scenarios that can be played out over the course of a human experience. The difference is really which role you take in it when it comes back around. Because it always comes back around.

[blautitlewave]

@lifting-madjick

Oops, forgot to tell you that I have this awful habit of screencapping people who talk shit to me and then do not allow me to reblog those posts so I can submit my rebuttal. I am not a person who likes to be yelled at and not given a chance to reply.

Her Mom clearly thinks stealing is wrong. Her Mom likely taught her stealing was wrong, and yet she chose to do so anyway. Not only that, but she stole again, likely after her mother warned her not to. So that’s not only committing a crime via theft, that’s also lying and disobeying your mother who expected her child to respect her and her rules while they lived in her house.

Your argument that people who follow the laws aren’t necessarily good people is fallacious because you stealing is only benefiting yourself and maybe a few family members. It is not bettering the community or anything else, not like how people risked their lives to help black slaves make their way to the North (yes, I pulled something out of my ass just like you did in making egregious examples to make my point), which was, hm...illegal. 

Yeah, I understand that people work long hours and are given shit deals. You think I was born into money? My great-grandparents grew up in the Depression, poor as dirt. Managed to make a life for themselves. My grandparents? Poor as dirt, managed to make a life for themselves. My Mother? Poor as dirt, managed to make a life for herself. Now I am white, so obviously obviously ob-vi-ous-ly there’s a reason why we are likely more successful than others who had similar cards stacked against them since the beginning. 

I am studying the big W’s when it comes to the financial crises facing Americans in this day and age at my college (”oooh, she goes to college, big whoop” you’ll likely say. Well, personal experience means nothing to people in charge if you don’t have actual stats, accredited sources to back up your complaining, and formal training in how to make sound arguments based off of them). 

Coincidentally, I am also studying Social Psychology, among other things, and what you are doing right now is known as neutralization, a theory which essentially means you’re making some convenient little narrative to justify committing crimes. Your first one is citing history (segregation), your second is pointing to how capitalism has gone awry in the past few decades. While your second point is very much a valid one in its own way, that does not justify your behavior, it only explains why you and people like you think it’s okay. 

You seem to act like I’m some bourgeois uppercrust that believes that people are poor because they choose to be, that I think that corporations actually care about me and that I’m actually somehow mad that you’re breaking the law to “help yourselves” despite the odds being stacked against you.

Only an absolute F U C K thinks that unbridled capitalism is a good thing. I’m honestly offended that you would even suggest that I am not knowledgeable about:

This nation’s history and the treatment of its workers, up until the Progressive Era of the 1910s-1920s

The historical economic disparity between whites and blacks, for example, since the end of Reconstruction in the South

The major boost corporations received under the Reagan Era when he simultaneously cracked down on labor unions, which led to

Lowered wages almost across the board, as well as 

Lowered taxes for the wealthy under Reagan, then Bush Sr., then Clinton, then Bush Jr., maintained by Obama, and possibly going to be lowered even more under Trump

Political shifts of the parties throughout history

Globalization and its effects on domestic workers

etc. etc. etc. when, like I’ve said, my family has through several generations struggled to survive as members of the working class. I am extremely empathetic of those who can barely make ends meet. I will even extend my sympathies to people who steal food and perhaps medicine to help their families.

However, I do NOT condone stealing luxury products that are not NEEDS but WANTS. While every human on this Earth should be guaranteed basic good treatment, food, water, safety, and a little nook to sleep in, this charity does not necessarily extend to frivolous material goods such as makeup or non-essential fashion items, jewelry, etc.Many people have lived and died comfortably without such things, I do not see why you absolutely cannot go on through life without snatching them. Those are personal little spoils, they do nothing to benefit anyone but yourself, so you are compromising your freedom for some trinkets for selfish reasons.

Not only that, but no matter what you tell yourself, you have done nothing to deserve these things. Nothing at all. Your work hours at some job day in and day out do not translate to being able to sneak out the doors with four bottles of nail polish. It doesn’t work like that. A direct exchange is required, one that benefits both parties giving something up for something else. 

People like you are the reason why teenagers are discriminated against by business owners and treated like criminals without having done anything to deserve it. Hell, your ethnicity or race may likely be furthering preexisting stereotypes that harm innocent kids. 

I am against stealing on principle. It is something that I simply do not consider to be right. It could be because I would not like it if someone were to steal from me (empathy) or maybe it’s because, if everyone stole, we’d have anarchy, and I don’t trust people to do the right thing 100% of the time when there is no obligation other than supposed “common sense of decency” to deter people from doing horrible things.

And no, I ain’t mad that y’all are stealing. I’m mad that OP was actually asking for sympathy and items to make up for the fact that they got in trouble for committing a crime. When I showed a friend this little story, he said “Serves that bitch right” and I have to honestly agree with them.

I don’t empathize with people who manipulate, steal, lie, cheat, harass, coerce, or attempt to blackmail others and then start bawling when Life knocks them on their ass. 

Like I said in my original post, there are families out there that would murder OP for even thinking of doing such a thing as stealing. Pride and honor go very far in some cultures, they should feel blessed they weren’t born in a conservative, rural part of the Middle East or South East Asia.

Anyway, why can’t you borrow makeup from friends, or go to the food pantry if you’re hungry, or ask for donations from people (since that seems to be popular on here), or shop at Goodwill, or visit a church and see if donations are available? Is it because you’re actually well enough off that you could in theory actually buy these things, you just don’t want to under the veneer of “I’m so poor and I can’t afford anything I want :( :( :(  so I’ll just steal it :D :D :D” ?

You know who thinks like that? 1) Children. Tiny, tiny little children that are not yet cognizant of how to be considerate to others.  Either that or 2) Sociopaths, 

You’ll notice that people who are very poor rarely steal unless absolutely necessary. Maybe it’s because they still hold morality to be much more important than the new eyeshadow they want, or a new pair of leggings. 

In conclusion, the one thing that I hope you take away from this is that what you are doing is not justified nor righteous. Don’t use the economic hardships of millions of others as a green light. It’s likely the vast majority of them would think your methods are deplorable and would not even think of doing it themselves. Depending on your race, you’re likely furthering a racial stereotype. Depending on your age, you’re probably helping to perpetuate ageism and validating discrimination against your age group. And lastly, by shoplifting to “save money” you are proving to the big people up top that the poor are morally corrupt. 

Thanks for helping out the people in your demographic by sending the message to bystanders that people in a similar boat as you economically and socially are untrrustworthy, manipulative, subversive, and unworthy of help.

[amuerion]

Super-Size SFW Meihem Headcanons Collection Incoming!

Hello to everyone out there! I saw that this tag could use some cheering up, so I decided to join in the fun and share a little meihem (and friends) headcanon collection of my own.

Right away, the post itself is massively long and several of these are quite detailed.

 I have collected many of these for a while. I wanted to make a post that covered a lot and maybe would even be something to return to, instead of creating a bunch of smaller ones. You might even have seen a few smaller ones of these around already that I have shared on anon or my main blog. But I tried my best to split it into topic sections to make it easier to read and find your way around!

For compactness’ sake, you’ll find everything under the Read More link!

Basis: Overwatch Joined Forces AU

1. They Wish to Do WHAT Now?!

Mei can’t believe her ears and eyes, as her colleagues tell her that two junkers she met before want to offer them their help. How shall this no-good bully called Junkrat and his colossus of an accomplice Roadhog possibly be interested in striking back against Talon and other shady forces that dare to provoke another Omnic crisis?

Would the impending destruction not be a cause of celebration for the two junkers? Or even worse, could they fake their willingness and just mean to make it easier for Talon and cohorts to destroy what is left of Overwatch and its allies from the inside?! Mei certainly finds no good reason to believe them.

There is something Mei can agree on with a few others, though: It is better for the junkers to use their massive fire power against the threats for humanity, instead of continuing to be another threat to humanity themselves. And should they wish to play the game for the fate of the world on the side of Overwatch, they’d have to play by the rules of theirs and reconsider thrice, whether they want to try anything rash.

With great caution, Mei finally agrees on the teaming up and supports the majority of the vote in the crew. However, she is dedicated to keep her eye on the junkers, knowing that they’d have to get through her and all the others first, should they seriously dare to fool them.

2. S’long as the Payment’s Roight

But in all seriousness, Junkrat is willing to give it a shot. While his bodyguard Roadhog is validly skeptical - since their earlier tries to switch sides were anything but a success - and considers the chances of this working laughable, Junkrat objects since, at least to some degree, they and the Overwatch crew sit in the same boat.

For as long as he can think, Junkrat and all the others he got to know in the irradiated outback had been oppressed and let down by the government, forcing them into crime and battles of resistance for freedom and compensation for the injustice they suffered - with no hope of change in sight. The people of Overwatch dedicated their lives to the well-being of the world, for the citizens with the citizens all across the globe. But the more said citizens mistrusted them in their procedures and decisions, the more they were considered to be a threat instead of help, finally leading to their further existence as a hero association to be thought of as not desireable by the leading heads of the law. Thus, even when their origins and methods may be different, both the remaining heroes of Overwatch and the rebelling junkers continue to work illegally for what they consider important to them.

Joining Overwatch and finding a way to make his bombs damage the property of all the ones who rid the innocent of all that is rightfully theirs and find joy in making the masses suffer for their own irresponsibilities and lack of backbone? Getting another safety net of protection and a chance to distance himself further from earlier forced contacts and experiences with Talon members and Sombra, while giving Roadhog a break every now and then? And all of this with a solid payment? Gladly! And with that, Junkrat cemented his decision, while Roadhog thinks to himself that Rat will either have to learn the hard way, or he will be the one to stand corrected. Only time will tell.

 Furthermore, Junkrat is quite thankful that the discussion about how to proceed with the Omnics is still up for an immense debate at the headquarters. He might does not see himself siding with the Omnic supporters anytime soon, but luckily the experiences of the crew are diverse, instead of a stream of yes-sayers without sound reasoning to back up their position. As diverse are their plans on what the next move should be and the factors of future threat are not thrown under the rug. Junkrat looks forward to see where all of this could go...and also to meet a certain scientist again that he is determined to prove wrong regarding the impression about himself.

3. Getting to Know and Love Mei

Junkrat gets to learn a whole lot more about Mei, during their work together for the same cause: She is a rather shy person at first that does not believe her own passions to be all that interesting to others. When she finds this worry to be unjustified after a long time of bonding and being encouraged to tell more about herself, she is hardly stoppable in conversation, though.

She genuinely loves learning, every chance to travel excites her and she likes to draw and report about her journeys to others (though she does not have much self-esteem when it comes to the presented results of these two interests). It is great to have someone in Mei that you can discuss sincere topics with, as much as you can goof around with her, once she feels comfortable.

Junkrat admires that it shows how much she cares for her profession with all her heart. He gladly listens to her about all the theories and experiences known to Mei. Even when he cannot grasp all of them in entirety, it is nice to just see her talk with such admiration, love and warmth showing in her face from all the joy. Mei is not afraid to take on challenging and difficult jobs all by herself. She is very thorough with all of it and always looks for a way to improve.

That Mei lost the entire work team and circle of closest friends in the tragedy of Ecopoint Antarctica is something Junkrat feels awfully sorry about, because he experienced first hand what it feels like when someone you treasure is pulled out of your life with brute force - but without warning. He is all the more impressed for the fact that this did not make Mei give up on everything there is. Instead, she still has such a positive outlook on life, tries to be of help to the ones that cannot help themselves, is convinced that everything happens for a reason and thinks of everyone else first, before she does something good for herself. He never quite got to know someone like Mei who decides to shed a tear for the otherwise forgotten and determined to carry the weight of the problems of others whenever they cry out for support.

Mei herself does not feel as big and impressive as described, however. She often wishes she was stronger and would not let her temper get the best of her. Her heavily empathic heart makes it easier for her to jump to quick conclusions due to her huge protective spirit and when her courage is pushed to its limits. Her honesty and getting so deeply involved with other people’s issues makes her also all the more attackable for the ones who wish her ill. In fact, she often fears that she turns out to be far too small to carry the beloved home she tries to save on her shoulders in the long run - perhaps her efforts will turn out to outlive her, or even not at all.

Junkrat cannot relate to these worries. To him, it is a whole different level of “being tall” to be strong enough to show yourself to the world as you truly wish to be seen, instead of hiding behind an alibi that seems most convenient to gain as much support and profit possible. On top of that, he considers it valuable that she likes to speak her mind truthfully and shows so much care for the people around her. That has become quite a rarity in these demanding times.

There is also no reason for him why she should wish to be taller in size whatsoever. In fact, Junkrat thinks that she is small in physique only makes her more huggable and a nicely compact bundle of sunshine. That and she does not have to worry about inconveniently limited door frames and prehistoric “How’s the weather up there?”-jokes like him all the time.

Overall, Junkrat considers Mei to be adorable and very pretty. He loves all the things about her that she cannot hide, like her gentle smile, her hands that are always warm, her silky hair to get lost in, her puffy cheeks and cuddly self. But the things that she actually tries to hide is what he loves just as much, like all the cute little noises of content, surprise, happiness and feeling flattered she makes, her laughter that ranges from adorable giggles all the way to a hysterical seagull over the most diverse things and how out of this world she can look in festive and elegant attire.

Mei is a bit embarassed about a lot of these things and prefers to show herself in a casually comfy style, instead. She often fears to overdo it when she is getting dressed up, especially when most of the magic is gone by the next morning. But Junkrat doesn’t care. He is certain that the morning Mei, with her hair all over the place like a sea urchin, in nothing but a nightdress and yeti slippers, warning him to roll over to avoid her bad-morning-fish-cutter-breath, as she turbulently searches for her glasses with mole vision, is just as gorgeous as the Mei that shimmers like an entire firework on her own in her festive dress on a way to a friend’s birthday party. 

One time, Junkrat found out that Mei is very embracing and encouraging when it comes to the beauty in the diversity of people. She thinks that any person, no matter where they are from, no matter what they look like and no matter how much transformation they undergo to arrive at being the person they truly want to be, can be incredibly beautiful when they have a positively fruitful soul that impacts the world and shines through them for everyone else to notice. It was that conviction that finally lit the spark to cause a fire in Junkrat that seemed to be impossible to suffocate - that he himself did not want to suffocate.

4. Getting to Know and Love Junkrat

Also Mei slowly but surely expands her first impression of Junkrat by a lot of things she never would have believed to witness, before they continued to work together. She learns to team up with him, but who she learns to appreciate is Jamison Fawkes in his entirety.

She is amazed by how outgoing he is, how even nerve-demanding pressure can’t get him to back down, how immensely happy about the littlest things in life and how loyal he is - he may does not always know how to help right away, but his willingness to do so is indestructible.

The more people got used to Junkrat being a part of the team, the more Mei got to see how encouraging, supportive and honestly interested in others he could be: Junkrat loves to laugh and make others laugh. He comes up with the most horrible puns and hilarious stories in the blink of an eye, if he really wants to, and likes to bond with people, or “beautiful freaks” as he jokingly calls all the ones that catch his interest, over the things that keep them going in life a lot. He takes an immense interest in what moves them, since there is such a huge variety of personalities around the world and even huger stories behind it. It is exciting to him to understand why some of them became who they are now, mainly also because not many people made an effort to understand someone like him by all that life has thrown him into. Junkrat enjoys to have a good discussion with Mei about science, tell Lúcio what unfolds in front of his inner eye by listening to his music and wishes to learn how to make music himself, preferably how to play the guitar for personal reasons. Travelling trough video game history with all the gems that D. Va’s family has held on to for generations is something he always looks forward to and he is even willing to convince the moody top engineer Torbjörn to help him to create alternative, water-proof fin prosthetics in his workshop, so that Roadhog can teach him how to swim in the HQ pool and they can share another hobby that does his well-trusted companion good, especially. He brings all of them together and slowly becomes more protective and affectionate, the more he dares to consider these few rare people that get along with him family.

Despite all of these efforts, not many decide that Junkrat is a person that they want to stick around with. Over the course of his life in the outback, several fellow junkers did not appreciate his eccentric nature. During their shared hardships, not many appreciated him being overly enthusiastic about things he enjoys, nor that he tried to mix well and was chatty. He can be emotionally impulsive, has a very vivid face, likes to gesticulate and often wishes to reassure himself he understood everything. Together with the fact that it does not stop him from sometimes being clumsy, loud and dangerously honest and harsh while uttering his opinions - no matter if somebody asked for it or not - this is an overall package many did not wish to like, not even wish to tolerate. This pendulum of different behaviours and emotional outlooks on life make him pretty hard to read for the people around him - some are not even sure whether the entire of it is also the entirety of his character, or just a really good act. Since his life of crime forced him into several disguises and schemes of actions, the latter would not surprise them. Even Roadhog took years of shared travels to get used to Junkrat in his entirety, while still considering him a difficult and demanding personality sometimes. Thus, rejection and unintentional wounding of the ones that would be the last people he’d want to hurt hit him very hard.

Junkrat likes to take these slip-ups as a footboard for better times, however. He is often embarassed about having made grave mistakes yet again at first, but taking some time to see the reasons of why certain things didn’t go his way only make him persistent enough to search for a chance to improve as a whole. This kind of mentality shows in his growing as a person and his work, which is a thing that Mei admires a lot. Junkrat never consideres a case entirely hopeless and manages to create and recreate unexpectedly good machinery out of broken parts that anyone else would have given up on. He likes to give the things that everyone else throws over their shoulders a way of finding back to proper use.

It wasn’t easy for Junkrat to tell Mei about everything that he had gone through in the irradiated outback, but it felt good to finally let it all sink in with someone who really listens and cares for everyone involved. She was horrified about all that she got to hear and wished utterly that she’d have some way to help them. Junkrat appreciates the sympathy, but it all came down to their survival depending on themselves. Mei does not dare to state that she feels bad about what happened, now that she has been made fully aware, since what she feels out of empathy could not possibly be a tenth of the suffering someone goes through who has been right there to experience it first hand in her opinion. She can only try to imagine how it felt for Junkrat to see earlier allies and competition in the irradiated wasteland alike fighting for freedom and justice - including his parents - only to pay for it with slowly decaying bodies and sanity. There were people you wished to fight for, but couldn’t. Others were there, which you n e v e r wished to raise your weapon against, but still had to...and had he not have been lucky enough to stumble across Roadhog and get out of this mess, there’d been no way he’d be able to sit around and tell anyone about it nowadays. After several years of travels around the world, the experiences of those days range from saddening to downright disgusting, of which Roadhog still refuses to discuss many - even with him.

The fact that Junkrat never entirely lost all that he is to these struggles and learned to carry this weight and the ones lost to this battle in his memory, makes it all the more jaw-dropping for Mei. All of these horrors only made his love for life stronger and whatever it tried to steal from him is something he was sure to regain. In all honesty, Mei is uncertain what she would do, would she suddenly lose an arm, a leg, or even both. But these fears vanish into thin air, when she sees how Junkrat handles several daily things successfully, even when he takes the heavy prosthetics off. He does it in situations when he feels fully safe and uses what remained of his limbs to act out of habit. It makes her incredibly happy that they both were able to create such a safe space for him, which makes it seem like it never had been any different. Obviously, all of what he had to face broke him...but it didn’t break h i m. A conviction Mei found inspiration in...and the thought that Junkrat was far more than a team mate.

Junkrat is quite glad that Mei thinks about it that way sometimes, since it is often difficult for him to believe that himself. If there is something that frustrates him every now and then, it is how often others worry about his well-being. It is not like he does not appreciate the caring gestures and questions of the ones that learned to like him, but he simply is not used to the luxury that he does not have to keep his troubles all to himself. He is aware that everyone has a heavy cross of their own to carry, which is why he simply tries to swallow down his own troubles and not to be a bother with it. However, he is an incredibly terrible liar and especially for Mei it is easy to read from the changes in his facial expressions and voice that something is the matter. Junkrat wishes there were not so many causes of concern with his person for Mei, like his usually small appetite, phantom pain, sensitivities to certain types of weather, troubles from his long exposure to the radiation and how his destruction rage gets the better of him often. It is simply in Mei’s nature to be a people person and someone who easily worries, but he knows how much it gets to her that other’s around her are in dire need of support. Junkrat’s past liked to enforce the thought onto him that he is just another burden that others had to constantly take care of. Mei and everyone else however pushes that thought far away as possible, simply being convinced that Junkrat is worth protecting.

It is clear to Junkrat that he cannot be anything other but himself and that the desperate past times demanded desperate measures that cannot be undone. Still, certain situations make him wish that he could give Mei the full support and comfort experience she deserves. He enjoys being completely enwrapped in her love so much that he can’t help but believe that it must be severely lacking for her on his behalf. By all that he lost physically and in direct comparison to how she makes him feel, he cannot shake off the idea that an incomplete body equals to a not entirely fulfilling experience when they are close and sweet on each other. There are so many things in looks that he loves about her and that are so strikingly different from his own features that he wonders whether they are more a thing to put up with for her, rather than to fully enjoy.

Mei however could not care less. She sees no problem in the many bald spots on his head. It makes her give all the little places of his remaining hair a nice and equal amount of affectionate ruffling. Every single one. Also the heavy bags under his eyes don’t matter to her. She is too busy admiring the colour of his eyes above them. She is more than alright with him covered in smudges often, only to discover the freckles and sunspots underneath. Mei loves his overbite that gives her a warm, gentle smile ever so often and the beard stubbles she finds below that tickle her awake in the morning. She feels just as nicely caressed by what remained of the limbs on his right side as by his complete left one and should he ever feel insecure about it, it gives her all the more reasons to kiss his stubs, caress them back and to get a hold of them, as she lays down beside him to complete him as much as he completed her by being so inherently different.  

5. All These Moments That No One Can Steal from Me

Mei and Junkrat love to collect memories of all their adventures. No matter if they stumble across legendary views, local oddities or other things worth remembering.

D . Va has been a huge help of gathering and presenting all of these in a newcomer invention of her home country: The Cosmonautilus-Cam. Not only is it able to take pictures and record smaller films that can be manipulated in progression speed, but also project the contents of some photos in 3D-models, make only certain aspects of the pictures move or even present it with certain sounds of the local landscapes you captured, which you can filter out individually by choice. Both of them are thankful for such a handy gift of hers.

Since Mei is always so dedicated to multi-tasking, there are several things during their travels that she was unable to pay attention to at first glance, but appreciates all the more in the long run.

Junkrat however is just happy to have a way of reliving these moments, that the course of time cannot take away from him. It saddens him that there are several somethings of his past, even somebodies, that he tries to remember at all costs, which can never be brought back into existence. And as quick-witted as he is coming up with plans and remembering countless details about the things that catch his interest, the more terrifying it becomes that sometimes he will just stop talking in mid-conversation, forgetting what he was trying to get at - or march off to get a small task done, but do anything else but what he came there for to begin with. Some people might consider these things to be a threat of your memory to slowly fail you in the long run - but Junkrat is determined to not let that become the usual state of things.

Mei tries her best to ease his worries, whenever this comes up: It may could be the case, that their memory will fail them one day, that names and circumstances become foggy... but there is no possible way that they could ever forget how the stories of their lives and especially the people in it, made them feel.

6. Experience Festivities

 Mei loves to explore the value other people and cultures see in the things they celebrate, how much care goes into the decorations and that the world comes together to say thank you to the one and only home they have and anyone who makes it great.

Junkrat prefers to be an active part of the preparations, no matter if that means creating gifts for somebody, lending a hand at cooking, making his own fireworks, or helping out to set up meeting spots for the team.

At best, these things overlap with missions, like securing top secret data at a masquerade ball in Venice, before Talon gets it, or bringing support packages with food and other supplies to people whose cities suffered from Titan Omnic attacks around Thanksgiving. Of course Junkrat often insists on diguising himself in suiting attire to be able to help out, as in a jester for the former and a scarecrow for the latter.

Their love for sharing these experiences together even makes them put up with things they would not like doing alone. Mei sure doesn’t like the heat of summer. But there is no way she is missing out on a beach volleyball tournament, sand castle contests, a friendship bowl with thirty different flavours of ice cream, fire dancers and seeing the bioluminescent waves with Junkrat, as they send sky lanterns up with their best wishes up to the clouds.

Junkrat sure doesn’t like the cold of winter. But that becomes meaningless, once he gets to see the Christmas markets, drinks the best mulled wine, learns how to ice sculpt, enjoys the intensity of philharmonic orchestra year’s retrospect music or simply gets to share a large, warm parka with Mei, as they huddle together and he rests his head on hers, listening to her admire his firework programme for New Year’s celebrations in awe.

7. All in Good Fun?

After all this time, Mei still doesn’t know what to make of Junkrat’s teasing kind of humour. She is no big fan of him making fun of any way how others are, what hey like to do, or their slip-ups.

To her surprise, Junkrat explained to her that this was one of his many manners to befriend people that caught his interest: He is able to laugh at anything that makes somebody just the way they are - including himself.

But meanwhile Mei still doesn’t get it: Just why would you spend your time saying something rude to someone else, when you have so many nice things to say about them that you could get to, instead? Due to her own past of fighting back against bullies, she has made several negative experiences with that kind of behaviour and thus rather wishes to be supportive of people.

Junkrat explains it only happens in good fun with him and he does not mean to hurt the feelings of somebody he genuinely likes. Not to mention, if somebody he does that with doesn’t explicitly state they mind, why should Mei waste her time worrying and get upset over it in their name? At least that’s what he’s thinking. In fact, Junkrat has been bullied just like Mei all the time back in the outback and been the laughing stock of others for countless reasons. But instead of getting upset about it like her, he sees laughing right back at them as the best way to upset them, since that is a reaction that they do not wish to see stemming from it. It’s his personal way to cope with it and to prepare others to not let such things get to them.

 They both agree to disagree on the coping, but Mei tries her best to go easier on him when it comes to this. In return, Junkrat tries his best to tone it down around Mei, since she takes such things to heart easily - and to avoid her death stares should he take it too far, according to her. Junkrat is even willing to pinch her side with a winking smile, reminding her he is just kidding when she seems intimidated.

With some others it works just fine, though: Reinhardt and Torbjörn make fun of each other on a daily basis and are thick as thieves. Roadhog accepted it, because he is convinced that you can’t change people, unless they decide to do that themselves. D. Va does it in her streams all the time and Lúcio is usually too in synch with all layers of the universe to care.

Nevertheless, he appreciates all of them and is the first to take a stand, should somebody seriously have a go at them with the sincere intention of wounding them and gaining satisfaction from breaking them emotionally. He finds his common ground with Mei in the conviction that this is an absolute no-go. You can pull Junkrat through the mud til you drop, he is used to it, but if you dare to insult one of the people he considers precious, you’re as good as done for.

8. Deary Me, Those Puns...

If there is something that Mei and Junkrat love to do, while everyone else groans “Oh snap, here we go...”, it is hosting puntests. It begins suddenly. Without warning. One of them starts making a pun that is almost physically painful...while the other tries to outdo it with one that is even worse.

But none of the two wishes to admit defeat and risk having to pay up for dinner, wear an embarrassing costume or invite the whole gang to Domino Day - even when nobody asked for it. So the puntest continues...All. Day. Long. 

Thus, Junkrat and Mei are off to dedicate themselves to “sinister intrigues”...such as ordering a large orcmount of pizza with Lúcio, encouraging Torbjörn to give it his all for the allionce in Hearthstone, surprising Roadhog with a visit, while he repairs his bike, without an appoinkment of course, assuring that they know the crocodial by heart, should they get into trouble near the Nile and wishing Zarya nothing but the best and a Happy Bearsday and many reasons to celebread her new year of life after dinner...and those are not even the worst ones...

9. From the Best and Worst of Movies

No matter how tight her schedule is, Mei insists on catching up on at least some of her favourite shows. Intrigued by what she gets so invested in, Junkrat joins her and gets to see several of Mei’s favourite movies and series, mainly “Call the Law” - starring Olivia Rai.

While they both came to just enjoy the entertainment, they have to admit that choosing some of the most awful and obscure movies to watch has become funnier for them - most awful as in: So hilariously bad that it is already rad.

Especially with action movies, Junkrat is unstoppable when it comes to calling out the “amateur” villains on their fool-proof plans that hold no water, as Mei develops a blazing passion for passive-aggressively commenting on as forced as half-hearted character interactions and plot devices.

That is why mostly every Friday night follows a A-B-Week plan: Week A Fridays are all for the golden Must Sees for two...Week B Fridays however end up in the certainty that everybody can come up with a better script, muting the audio and impromptu voice acting and sound-effecting an entire movie with anyone who feels dangerous enough to join and create voice killers from laughter like “Assisted Living with Killer Moths Abridged”.

10. Mei’s Top Secret Hobby

Speaking of Olivia Rai: Mei considers her a role-model since her early student years. She is forever inspired by her self-confident, considerate person that always invents herself anew when it comes to style and life-dedication.

Naturally, she watched all the movies, interviews, uses philosophical and inspiring quotes by her whenever appropriate, read all the books and listens to the songs Olivia has sung for either movies she acted in or album projects of her own.

She adores the strength and harmony of these songs so much, that she not only uses them for a boost of courage to tackle new things, but also to sing them aloud while cleaning the lab and making other demanding chores easier.

But the entire performance recreated by heart and at the top of her lungs suddenly stops, as she finds out in embarassment that Junkrat had watched her carefully with a smirk on his face for way too long...at least that is what Mei thinks. As he teases her about how you just have to nerd it out sometimes, Mei flatout denies her pleasure in filling Olivia’s shoes, while nobody’s looking.

What Mei knows is that she does not want the truth to be spilled and spread...who knows how people will react when they see her do exactly this? What she doesn’t know however is that Junkrat has the songs stuck in his head and really wants others to see how much love goes into it...and that’s all Mei’s fault.

11. No, Your Self-Sacrifice Is Not Appreciated

It is for certain that Junkrat and Mei wrangle every now and then, as well. If there is something that Mei cannot stand, it is Junkrat’s self-destructive behaviour in combat. Affronting their enemies is anything but easy. In fact, often a lot more things go wrong on missions, than Overwatch recruits prefer. But for Mei this looks like no legit excuse whatsoever for Junkrat to pull stunts without warning by putting himself into life-threatening danger on his own against an army of opponents - even if that means he gains time and advantages for his team.

Junkrat can’t wrap his head around her anger. To him it seems only logical to risk getting seriously injured, or even abandon a limb for the sake of saving someone else. He found a way to bring these back. He found his way to cope with the pain. He will do so again, if necessary. They are replacable. But anyone else on the team is irreplacable. And the lack of their presence and well-being is a thing that nobody wants to cope with. For Junkrat a logical conclusion.

It is when he describes himself as “the smallest loss” with a chuckle, that all red flags rise in Mei’s head and she begins to scream in disagreement. Their shared time and work made her object, while her empathic nature makes her feel all the suffering and sources of where this thinking of his comes from...and how others tried to enforce that way of thinking on her, too, in the past...and how it turns her stomach upside down to know someone she cares for is not alright...

Meanwhile, Junkrat has to cope with witnessing the impossible made possible: That someone wants to hold him close and actually cries for him. It is hard to believe that this is really happening, when you went through years of the same, diabolical, triumphant chant for years: You don’t amount to anything. It will never change, no matter how hard you try. Because half the world will never notice and the rest will never care.

12. You’re Making a Big Deal of Something That Ain’t Real

Something that Junkrat cannot stand about Mei is that she has this inexplicable need to make problems out of things that are anything but problems.

Throughout her past, Mei indeed did not have a lot of friends. Many considered her dream unsuited for her and impossible to accomplish. Her parents enforced the highest expectations to her with the wish for nothing but success - preferably in the fields they considered convenient. As long as one can’t throne, one automatically won’t do.

She had hardly any time for something that did not include improving her skills and broading her horizon, making her a target for bullying, since many misinterpreted her strict, distant, shy and determined attitude as a way to show that she stands above everyone else. In reality, she struggled with an act of balance of not being a disappointment and somehow finding an emergency exit to not become a person she doesn’t want to be.

It is only when she packed her things and ran for the study metropolis near Lijiang Tower as a young adult to live an independent life and accomplish her dream to become a climatologist, that she found like-minded people that accepted her just the way she is...until the tragedy at Ecopoint Antarctica took every single one of them away from her. For Mei, it was life’s way to tell her: No. You are indeed not supposed to have this. As if the spit in the face by fate wasn’t enough, she had no other choice but to answer questions to the pushy media she did not want to answer and bring the message to the remaining loved ones, insisting towards children stuck in crying cramps that she indeed was not lying and their parent would never return.

In the reassembling of Overwatch she sees her final chance to regain what her past tried to take away from her, which is why she must not mess it up at all costs. The reason why she fears passive-aggressive attacks towards herself hidden in sarcasm or teasing jokes is because she was exposed to exactly that for years. When she cannot work for a day because her body is unable to be a strong as her mind, she tears up, feeling like she lets everyone she knows and had known down when that is unacceptable. And when getting to know new people, every single smalltalk feels like walking through a minefield of fearing to make one decisive mistake to come off as a person to avoid - even when she does not want to happen - and overanalysing and debating for hours and hours what others have said and possibly really could have meant.

Junkrat’s mind is blown by the fact that the person that says “Hey! Chill Out!” is the one who most likely should follow her own advice. It has made quite a bunch of situations which were meant to be fun nothing but demanding and overly complicated. And Mei knows that. She is aware that her extreme fear of messing it up will only provoke said fear to become real - and that she should finally abandon it all because in the end, nobody can stop themselves from making mistakes for as long as they live. But no matter how often people love to see her, thank her for being such an immense help for the team or considering her inspiring and someone they do not wish to enjoy themselves without, she still cannot fully bring herself to accept that she won’t lose again.

As often as it caused a hundred times of “Sorry!”, headaches, grinding teeth and tears, Junkrat is incredibly understanding and patient with Mei. He is fully aware that everybody gets their wounds from somewhere else, which can take a brutal amount of time to heal, while scars of it will always remain. Truthfully, it is not the case that she does this to him or their friends when she behaves like this that mainly upsets him. It’s the fact that she is doing that to herself.

13. Friendly Reminder to Take Care of Yourself

Some could argue that Junkrat takes his work a bit too seriously sometimes. Especially when the preparation for a mission demands the progress on a new type of bomb, he will make sure that the result is nothing but perfect - even if that means he has to work on it for nine hours til the morning light and do nothing else.

Mei often finds him grumpy from lack of anything refreshing. He leans over his working table, like he did before she went to sleep, as he told her he was “Almost done. Almost.” back then.

That is why Mei decided to help along. She messages him with a little alarm and note every hour of his working phases over the communicator, so that he remembers to take a couple of minutes to have a bite, a sip, or rest his eyes. It is a lot easier done when you notice someone is genuinely concerned about you. That leaves almost nothing for her to worry about.

14. Can You Stop Writing a Dissertation in Bed, but Actually Recover like Anyone Else?!?

A big reason to worry for Junkrat is any time Mei falls ill, though. It happens to her very rarely, but once it does, it as long and tedious as can be. He is aware how many things Mei tries to shoulder every single day - there is no way that she should take on all of that in pain.

But best of luck trying to tell that to a woman who showed up to oral exams with a fever nobody knew of. Since she has been raised under the pressure to perform for as long as she can think, Mei simply decides to soldier on. As long as she can stand and think somewhat alright, she’ll work. There are people who have it far worse than her, aren’t there? And if that ain’t enough, they also partially depend on her helping them to improve their lives. She can’t let them down!

It is that stubbornness of being good to others while being anything but good to yourself that upsets Junkrat every time it comes to this. He wishes he wouldn’t have to force Mei to opt out from everything for her recovery. She shrugs it off, used to her own hardships being sugarcoated and nothing worth of note. He fears for her, used to things that usually are not worth of note in the cities turning out to be the demise in the wasteland with no help in reach.

15. The Mission to Heal the World and Animal Friends

Over the course of time, Junkrat has become an incredible help to Mei with acquiring valuable data from their missions.

His exploring of the exploded Omnium back in Australia has made him pretty much fearless of any dangerous undertaking of climbing, digging and bombing his way to the goods. There are a lot of samples of minerals and other natural supplies that Mei would not have gotten to analyze, if it hadn’t been for Junkrat’s way of less overthinking and more doing.

The two of them also make a grand effort to sustain, if not even restore, habitable areas for the wildlife all over the world. That’s where their love for animals doesn’t stop, though.

Junkrat even went that far as to save a Talon watchdog that had suffered horrible disrespect and cruelty from its earlier owner and tormenter. Nowadays, the little curly coated retriever has been named Tucka, undergoes a re-education as a rescue dog for Overwatch and proved to be a reliable and endearing friend to the junker. 

16. Teamwork Bombs

As much as he hates to admit it, Mei indeed was invaluable for the improvement of Junkrat’s craft. So far, Junkrat’s explosives had mainly been a personal obsession and his inventory for defense and destruction to get what he wanted. It was Mei’s climate-manipulating science and dedication to world-renewing approaches that made some of Junkrat’s bombs of use for safety, though.

Their biggest collective success so far is the Frost Grenade, a bomb that is supposed to spread rapidly-cooling particles by chemical reactions in overheating, collapsing machinery. This invention was especially created with the intention to prevent the explosions of further omniums, or the immobilizing of war omnic units on a larger scale.

Mei wishes to take it even further and currently researches other ways of neutralizing pollutants in the air and sea, by letting friendly, chemical constructs react by collision at the rapid speed of explosions. Prototypes are already in blue-print stage and discussion with the help of Winston.

17. Good Nights Are Made for Good Cups of Tea

The two of them have made it their little ritual to share a “g’night tea” together every now and then, before they go to bed. It is the perfect way to unwind and discuss the highlights of the day, thoughts on the future and stories from days gone by.

Often Mei and Junkrat also experiment to find new favourites to drink, which sometimes are also gifts from friends and working partners. Whether that be a little gesture of kindness Symmetra brought with her, a recommendation Mercy has gotten from Genji, formulas of good taste that have been passed through generations of Reinhardt’s family, or something that Tracer and Emily brought along from the historical parts of King’s Row.

18. It Helps Them Sleep

Indeed, both of them enjoy each other’s company at night. Mei has to push herself to her limits with work usually, in order to want nothing but sleep for the next hundred years. If that is not the case, she has immense trouble with falling asleep, since everything sends the fear of her time in cryostasis and all that she associates with it up her spine - alone, laying on her back in dead silence...

She feels a lot more secure with Junkrat by her side, huddling up to someone, who enjoys each other’s warmth, moves his fingers through her hair and reassures her with kisses and soft nudges that he is still around.

For once, she is glad that he hardly ever is completely quiet, either ready to follow another train of thought with her aloud, after some lighter sleep, or letting out a quiet, content whistle beneath his overbite, sleeping like a log.

He himself is glad that Mei helps him just as much. Holding her close, he does not think too often about twisting and turning around, but to actually get some rest - even if that means risking to be ambushed by the nightmares that his conscience likes to throw him into, once he’s at its mercy. However, he is relieved to sense Mei’s shoulder beneath his left hand, half-awake, realizing that he’ll manage, like he always does.

19. Nicknames for Mei

Certainly, “Snowflake” has become a common term for Junkrat to use refering to Mei, since he considers her to be a fully unique person.

But Mei is just as curious why at the very early days of their shared times Junkrat also added “Snowplum” to the list. He has to confess that it comes from the idea that Mei tries to hide all of her beauty behind an frosty barrier of self-defense, but that she cannot stop it from shining through. Only someone who is able to push away all the snow without ripping the plum blossom underneath apart in the process will be able to see what a lively and caring treasure lies underneath the armour of acting reserved and strict. It is like a test to see who deserves to see her fully in bloom. That Mei was touched by the comparison that has emotional and familiar value to her was an understatement.

20. Nicknames for Junkrat

Mei has pondered and thought for a while what nicknames she could use for Junkrat. She definitely is not satisfied with the first one, which he was not supposed to get from her, but insisted on keeping. It happened on a day off when Junkrat had way too much fun teasing her again. When Mei’s patience finally reached its end, she tried to get back at him with calling him a name he certainly would not enjoy.

As the term “Cookieface” was uttered from her puffy cheeks, which Junkrat likes to call “The Pufferfish of Discontent (TM)” and such a huffy facial expression with a serious nod of “Hmpf! That will show him!” Junkrat was baffled...and just lost it.

He broke into laughter, hearing from Mei that this was seriously supposed to be rude and make fun of his freckles and sunspots. As much as she wants him to forget about it and is embarassed about the whole incident, Junkrat holds the nickname close to his heart, mainly for the mental image of running from the cops as they yell at the tops of their lungs: “Get a hold of the communal terror that is COOKIEFACE!”. He spent almost fifteen minutes down on the lab floor, gasping for air and laughing til he cried.

So...what should she finally decide to call him? Over the course of many adventures, Mei finally felt confident to put into words what Junkrat had become for her. She found someone who made her enjoy the smallest things in life and being herself so much more. He is always there for her, even when he’s sometimes out of sight, or she takes his efforts for granted. It is when she feels like all goes black and she struggles to find the way to carry on that she remembers that he will remain by her side and help her to figure out anything she needs to keep going. Someone who encourages her in all she wishes to achieve when she is right, but who is also unafraid to make her adjust the course when she is wrong. They are so different from each other sometimes so far away from the other one by the duties of work. Although they cannot always stick together, the light they gave each other’s hearts is something they will always carry inside of them to make them shine and grow to be the best they can be. It helps to move through the wildest chaos with ease and create something far greater out of it.

Junkrat saw many faces on his adventures that blurred into an unrecognizeable blob, while the name they gave him sounded crystal clear in the back of his head - especially when everything goes down the drain. “Lab accident”...”cancer of society”...”gutter filth”...those are only a few of the classics that were added to the collection. The stream of all these voices finally disappears, blasts off screaming into a silencing, white light forever, as the word “Starlight” drops from Mei’s lips in a soft embrace and a grateful whisper.  

[inhumansforever]

Uncanny Inhumans #1.MU Review

spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers

Captain Swain and the Uncanny Inhumans star in this one-shot tie-in to the Monster Unleashed Event from the creative team of Paul Allor, Brian Level and Jordan Boyd, with a neat throw-back cover from Gustavo Duarte and Michael Walsh.  Recap and review following the jump.

Monsters have invaded the Marvel Universe!  No one has yet been able to ascertain where these giant creatures known as ‘Leviathans’ have come from, why these have come, or what they want… mostly because all of the heroes have been all too busy fighting these monsters off all over the globe, desperately trying to push back the tide and save the countless innocent people threatened by these rampaging beasts.  

The answers behind the onslaught of these Leviathans will ultimately be addressed in the pages of the main Monster Unleashed book, while this issue focuses on a team of Inhumans and their efforts to repel a pair of monsters attacking Rome and save a group of civilians who were left behind in the initial evacuation of the city.  

Medusa, Karnak, Inferno, Triton and The Human Torch battle the Leviathans while Swain and Crystal attempt to evacuate a group of civilians in a New Attilan skyboat.  One of the two monster notices the escaping skyboat and gives chase, trying to bat it from the sky.  Piloting the craft, Swain attempts to utilize her empathic telepathy to ‘nudge’ the leviathan, dissuade it from its pursuit.  It doesn’t work and Swain is distracted by the bizarre, alien nature of the monster’s mind.  The skyboat is swatted from the sky and crash-lands in a forested area of the Italian coastline.  

Meanwhile, Karnak is finally able to detect the other leviathan’s key point of weakness; he directs Medusa and The Torch to concentrate their attacks to exploit this weakness.   The monster is destroyed and The Inhumans quickly depart in search of their fallen allies.    

Following the crash, Crystal receives a severe blow to the head, leaving her concussed and barely conscious.  Swain must take charge and corrals the civilians into a cave, hoping to escape the leviathan. 

All the while, Swain attempts to use her empathic powers to connect with the monster’s strange and savage mind.  She succeeds for a brief time and is able to keep the creature away.  

The exact nature of how Swain’s Inhuman powers work has yet to be fully explained.  Unlike a standard telepath, Swain’s psychic abilities are more affect oriented... she can read and influence another’s emotional experience.  And it turns out that this ability is not completely unilateral, rather it can act as a two-way street.  Swain is able to calm the leviathan, curb its furious bloodlust, but in the exchange Swain herself is effected, overwhelmed by primal and savage feelings of the monster. 

The shock of it all breaks her concentration and once again the leviathan is on the attack.  Struggling to control her own monstrous feelings, Swain continues to lead the escape.  The cavern opens up to the face of a cliff and in a final confrontation, Swain is able to overpower the leviathan’s mind, causing it to leap from the cliff and fall to its doom.  

Yet Swain is left significantly infected with the monster’s bloodthirsty mentality.  When the other inhumans finally catch up with them Swain lashes out and attacks Inferno.  Karnak steps in and delivers a swift chop to a nerve cluster that renders Swain unconscious.  

The narrative leaps forward, back to The RIV where Swain is convalescing following the ordeal.  Crystal comes to visit her, expressing her thanks for saving her life and lauding the great heroism and leadership that she demonstrated.  Swain does not feel she deserves the approbation.  

Swain feels that she let the leviathan get inside her head, let it get the best of her and unloose a more beastly and savage side of her.  She is still infected by the monstrous feelings that she had come into contact with inside the leviathan’s head.  Crystal assures her that it will all soon pass; that she will eventually make a full recovery.  Crystal adds that she is very proud of her.  And it is here that the one-shot comes to an end.

A not especially necessary but nonetheless fun read.  The Monsters Unleashed event thus far has been much more style over substance, with lots of very cool drawings of great looking monsters, but not much in the way of plot.  As a one-shot tie-in this issue doesn’t address the plot-based matter of the event and instead offers a character study of Swain and the intricate ways in which her powers work.      

Swain’s powers are rather interesting.  There are a lot of psychics and telepaths among the heroes and villains of the Marvel Universe, but it’s quite uncommon for such powers to entail a bilateral reciprocation.  Swain can telepathically influence someone, yet the path can go both ways and she too can end up influenced.  

In the field of psychotherapy, the term ‘vicarious traumatization’ refers to instances where a therapist comes to feel overwhelmed by the psychologically traumatic experiences of their patient.  On a psychological level, trauma can sometimes be akin to radioactivity… and discussing such matters on a deeply empathic level can often act to essentially infect the therapist with those same feelings of pain and helplessness (it’s a matter more likely to occur as a cumulative effect when a therapist has multiple patents on their caseloads who are coping with issues of trauma).  

Self-care, supervision and working with their own therapist helps these councilors contend with vicarious traumatization, thus allowing them to continue being helpful and effective for their patients.  Still, it can be a substantial problem for newer or younger therapists who don’t yet realize how such exposure to another person’s trauma can impact them.  

Captain Swain’s situation in this issue very much reminds me of the matter of vicarious traumatization.  She has only had her powers for a short while and is still relatively new to figuring out how they work.  She did not realize that communing with the leviathan on a psychic/emotional level could end up going both ways.  The primitive savagery of this monster is itself somewhat ‘radioactive’ and Swain ends up infected.   

Empathy is a double-edged sword.  To be especially empathic is a great source of strength in that it adds to wisdom and allows one to truly understand and sympathize with others.  Yet it can also be a source of pain in that you feel what others feel and, if they are in pain, you share that pain... experiences it as your own.  A lot of people often try to suppress or side-step their own empathic feelings because it can be so tough to feel the pain and hardships that others are experiencing.  

Paul Allor’s tale does a pretty good job addressing these themes with Swain, although I would have liked them to go a bit deeper.  Stand-alone stories can be tough because the economy of story and action is razor thin.  I ended up wishing there had been a bit more attention granted to Swain’s interactions with the leviathan.  Although this might just be a product of the fact that I’ve been kind of starved for seeing Swain on the page ever since All New Inhumans ended.    

Swain is such a wonderful character and I’m so glad that she is getting the attention she deserves (I’m especially happy that Al Ewing shares this enthusiasm for Swain and is including her in the cast for his upcoming series, The Royals).

Brain Level and Jordan Boyd do fine work with the art.  The illustration style is not exactly to my taste, but this is merely a matter of preference.  I’m more inclined toward a clean line and an animated style, whereas Level’s artwork leans more toward a fluid, busier line.  It’s very good artwork, but, again, not in tune with my tastes.  

All in all, the issue is worth checking out.  It doesn’t do anything to forward the over arching narrative of Monster Unleashed, but does a nice job of further exploring Swain’s character and examining the multifaceted nature of empathy. Three out of Five Lockjaws.

[mind0fanintellect]

06/11/2020 @ 2:30am

Hey tumblr and tumblrets!

Wanted to check in since my last post. Its probably two months and half since we’ve been in quarantine. I think this is probably one of the best things that could of happened to me and the community. I think it’s crazy how i knew shit was about to go down once Trump got elected into office. The whole vibe of the world shifted, like i knew things were about to get so stressful. But, this quarantine is probably changing the world towards more of the positive excluding the fact that around 2 million people have died from the COVID-19. It’s a pretty crazy time in the world. Honestly, since this whole pandemic, I was able to complete my last full-time semester of college. I am so happy to say that I ended with a 3.5 GPA and deep down, I feel great. I have been suffering from mental illness because of the nonstop work i’ve been putting in my job and my school/studying. The stress has really got me fucked up and now that i have leisure time, it’s like brain doesn’t even know how to adjust to it. My health has been on a decline, i feel the aches and tension. I’ve gone gluten, soy, diary, and wheat free for almost 4 or 5 months. I have been feeling so much better since. The only thing i really have to start paying attention to is my emotions and thoughts. I know this because i recently just back into therapy since i was noticing patterns that I just tired with. I can say that i’m a lot better than i was in the beginning of the school year, but i still have a lot of burnt out side effects that i really need to recover from that can take a couple more months, maybe a year to fully come to terms with whats truly going on in my heart and head. I haven’t been seeing anyone, just making friends and hanging out with friends. And i can honestly say i am content but not as happy as i’d like to be.

I wanted to also take some time to write and reflect on my current relationships. I am not sure if i’m in the right circle or if i’m just around these people for the time being. I want to meet more people.. people that can help me achieve more goals in my life and learn how to go above and beyond. I’m still friends with the same people.. people that aren’t enlightening me in any way. Yeah they are good people but NONE can truly give me any valuable advice that could take me further and push me to do big and better things with my life. I don’t want to drink and get plastered anymore and i also don’t want to be surrounded by people that are only using me because i’m ahead. I don’t want to be around people that think they’re better than other people. I wonder if i’m being unrealistic though. I want to meet people that are humble but also want to help others in need. I’m so kind hearted and so empathic to the point that i cannot STAND when people aren’t. That even goes towards my friendships. Theres probably only two people that i can truly talk to and know they mean well. Although, there are times that i’m not the nicest person; i believe that you really have to trigger me to get on my bad side. I’m just over being around negative energy. This even includes my job.. i can’t stand it. I want to be around positive people that want to succeed and also have fun. On top of their shit and are wise about their money and savings. Tomorrow, i’m going to open up a retirement account. Thanks to my buddy Luis, I will be on the start of saving towards my retirement and saving money for who knows.. anything to help my future and goals.

I’m just so glad i got to this point. I’m basically done with school, single, getting myself together and recovering from all the shitty past experiences I went through. I’m having a hard time seeing the negatives of the experiences and it’s because i’m so well intentioned and kind. When Adrian hurt me so much. I cannot describe the way i felt when everything about the break up hit me, but it’s been too long and I need to come to terms with it. He was no good for me and I deserve better. Yeah we had good memories together and he basically made me into the person i am today, so i have to be grateful for that. If i didn’t get into that relationship, i don’t think i would have this perspective on the world. Their are a lot of beautiful things out in the world and i need to explore it. He showed me how it was like to be on adventures and have a good time. How you’re suppose to be treated when someone truly cares about you. He said that he was in love with me.. but i dont know? He moved on quick, but i get he had no other support system and that was his way of coping with our break up. I don’t know what life has in store for me.. but i think i’m ready to move on and see what the rest of my life as in-store for me.

Ariana :)