#they like endearments you need to use them frequently to maintain morale

[july-19th-club]

the ultimate danger and annoyance of Car Culture aside i do love my car. she's just a used black honda crv and she's not sexual looking and wont be worth anything by the time she'd be an antique and ive put almost 50,000 miles on her in the last four-ish years because i drive an half an hour to work and half an hour back every day. but she's my car. and she's pretty sturdy in the winter if i'm careful with her and she's got plenty of storage space and i dont clean her nearly as often as i should so she's dusty inside and out and i think of her as like. the kind of butch who would wear a crew neck sweatshirt in the late 1990s and she has a wash-n-wear haircut that doesn't flatter her and her nails are always very trimmed. maybe as an indulgence she wears a couple simple pieces of jewelry - leather bracelets or a single small hoop earring. she's calm and heavyset and has a dry way of talking so you're not always sure she's making a joke or not, but she never means you ill. and she guzzles oil like it's going out of style because she is a middle aged woman with 157THOUSAND miles on her engine

[kadeu]

Accepted — Hyun Soomin

♣   Hyun Soomin looks like Kim Chungha (solo) ♣    She was December 17, 1918; making her 106 but she appears 25 years old ♣   This Kumiho is Pansexual, Heart Defector, and a Three of Clubs ♣   She is an attendant at the Dragonfire Hotsprings and an errand girl

BIOGRAPHY

Bora was born to a single mother, a three of hearts serf full of dread and regret. It wasn’t always like that, though.

Her mother was a thousand years old kumiho who had been aging quicker than before during the past century, due to the stress and poor quality of life she led after losing all her money and, with that, her previous nine of hearts rank. Being a successful drug merchant wasn’t exactly the safest profession, with fierce and ruthless competition to go against it didn’t come as a surprise, even though it turned into a traumatic, life changing experience, to be framed and driven to bankruptcy. Never married to the father, he took that as a chance to abandon them, since his rank hadn’t been affected by the scandal. She lost everything except for the baby in her womb. All the way down to a three and with the little savings she had outside the Zuihuo Bank -not enough to change her rank- she was left with a huge debt, a large belly and almost no options for a new job. Homeless and having a hard time facing reality she wandered around directionless. She almost didn’t survive giving birth to Bora if it wasn’t for a spade healer that took pity on the kumiho trying to do it alone in an alley, her water breaking in the middle of the Joker moments before. Wondering what would be best for her and the baby, deserting hearts and trying to join spades seemed like her best bet, but she never made it to the spade territory. For some time, other lower rankers in the heart faction helped her and the newborn survive, she didn’t even feed in a long while because the stress caused migraines and slowly drained her power, but the incessant cries of her baby drove her insane until she reached a turning point. If she wanted to survive, if she wanted Bora to do so, she had to let her wild nature as a kumiho come out and be as ruthless as they were to her. The day Bora turned one year old she went into a feeding frenzy. She stole and hunted. She lied and deceived with her illusions. She hid. Every human heart and every human kidney she could get in her hands was split into halves, one for her and one for Bora. She wanted her daughter to come into her power as soon as possible while she gained enough strength and courage to initiate her next move. It came soon as a conclusion that it was either selling her body, taking part in morally dubious business or serving a rich family, and if she was going to do so, then the family she was indebted to was the most reasonable choice. At that moment she didn’t have a place to call home, nor any income. It was a blow to her already humiliated soul, but she would take it for her daughter. You would think an infant wouldn’t notice any of this, but Bora knew and felt, she absorbed all of it as she watched her mother work and take care of her at the same time to the point of exhaustion. Years later, when Bora was old enough, she began serving as well under the name Wisteria. Every serf working for the family received the name of a flower, and she decided to take the meaning of hers as a mantra; longevity and endurance defined foxes accurately. In a fresh bank account, she saved and saved, hoping to one day rise in the social scale and help clear her mother’s debt. It was harder than it seemed though, not earning much as a serf led her to contact people in the darkest alleys of the heart borough whenever she had a chance to go out. She ran errands for the house and for a drug dealing gang always going by Wisteria and not her birth name. A kumiho’s illusions and transformations came in handy for many things as it would appear. Her mother wasn’t happy with her decision, but Bora couldn’t stand watching how the serving life was weakening her day by day. It took decades to take a step upwards. Many times, she thought it would be impossible, but keeping an eye on her own -almost nonexistent- expenses and limiting her social life she became a four of hearts. Did anything at all feel different? No, but it actually gave her the opportunity to consider other means of living.

IN RECENT YEARS

Even though it sounded like a good idea, Bora never left the family she worked for, not even when she made it as far as five of hearts. She couldn’t leave her mother there, still being paid with just food and a bed to sleep on. There were so many things the young vulpe could do now, but she had grown used to the job, the faces and the fake sense of security that even her questionable side job gave her. And still, every once in a while, she could feel a tingling sensation all over her skin, her blood rushing through her veins and her trembling hands trying to reach for something invisible. She couldn’t help but wonder if this life was really meant for her.

Sooner or later things would change -her gut told her- but the way it happened marked her whole existence and dictated her future.

In the middle of the 2023 winter, January, her mother passed away. Depression and anxiety took her slowly over time, but too fast for a kumiho. She hadn’t turned into her fox form in a long while, even though Bora tried to make her. It was like she was giving up and her daughter couldn’t do anything but watch her fade away.

Was it unfair to feel betrayed by her mother and those she worked for? Bora didn’t know. All she knew was that everything hurt. Becoming orphaned and indebted by inheritance, which automatically demoted her to one of hearts, were never in her list of aspirations. Even the family she served for years started treating her differently, even though she was the same person. Her own existence started losing its meaning.-“Sorry for leaving so soon, Bora. I don’t know exactly when it’s going to happen, but I can feel that I won’t stay with you for much longer. Take care. You’re the only reason I haven’t left before. I love you.”

It was written on a letter she found among her mother’s belongings, next to a stack of older looking ones that after inspection revealed the strangely close relationship her mother maintained with a club, and not just a lowranker like her, not even a regular highranker like she used to be, he was a jack of clubs.

Making sure her tears didn’t smear the ink on the letters, she read through all of them, starting from the most distressed looking, the oldest. She learned that they met through work around the time her business saw enough success to branch out to other districts. Their relationship seemed merely professional at first glance, but Bora quickly caught up with the little affectionate terms and endearments they exchanged more and more frequently. It was also very clear that her mother was already involved with Bora’s father, but it didn’t seem to affect their mutual flirtation. She also learned that he was a kumiho as well as they casually talked about feeding, transformation and everything that was quintessentially a fox spirit’s concern.

Bora wondered if they got to meet in person and how often. If their longing for each other ever saw compensation. Hyperfixating on the letters for a whole month kept her from drowning in the despair she felt every time the world reminded her of the current situation and when she finished the last one, already more than ten years old, an epiphany took place.

Maybe this mysterious, at least in her eyes, jack of clubs was her ticket to a new life. All she had to do was leave everything behind, unpaid debt included, and flee towards the club district. They wouldn’t send anyone after her, right? They didn’t care for her mother until she offered herself in exchange for a roof.

Meeting him wasn’t as easy as she initially thought, though, the club borough was recovering for the recent civil war after all, everyone was extra vigilant. It turned out to be hard enough just to find his whereabouts, not to mention he was surrounded by heavy security, a necessity for a drug and gem trader, plus there was no apparent or justified reason for him to direct his attention to a one of hearts kumiho that had nothing but the bag she carried on her back. Unfortunately for him, Bora wasn’t going to give up as she couldn’t turn back. There was nothing but emotional pain waiting for her back in hearts. Yes, in clubs she would have to endure the physical kind, but her determination wasn’t running low.

It was during the third of her futile, middle of the street at night, ambushes that she mentioned her mother for the first time since she died, in a cry for help as his bodyguards slammed her to the ground. That was enough to discreetly take her back to his place and hear her out.

It was then when Bora learned his name, which the letters didn’t mention for privacy matters. Kwon Iseul sounded as serious as he was, at least from what Bora could grasp during the first conversation they had. He agreed to help her, but only under a long list of conditions that included a fake name and limiting most of her activities to the night.

From that moment on she would be known as Hyun Soomin.

Iseul covered her tracks so her debtors back at hearts couldn’t easily find her, a bit of personal rivalry getting in the mix, he also found her a place to stay and immediately commenced the mentoring and training she desperately needed. As kumihos, feeding in clubs wasn’t as easy as it was before, they no longer turned a blind eye much to Bora’s disappointment, but there were still ways that he taught her. Regarding fights, she had no experience, she only knew how to use her powers at a basic level. There was so much to do. A few days later, already in the third month of the year, she was officially a one of clubs under his wing.

Little by little she proved her worth as a warrior, from using illusions to transforming into a beautiful black fox, she used every advantage she had to very slowly raise her rank. Always letting some time pass between battles as the last thing in her interest was to call attention upon herself.

Nowadays she is a three of clubs.

She got a job at the hot springs as part of her façade and to make some money of her own, but until the Dragonfire reopens she just keeps running errands -in the dark and away from the heart district- for Iseul.

PERSONALITY

In the eyes of strangers, Bora is a quiet, observant, maybe even a judgmental person. She usually speaks in a low voice that holds her real personality back, unless provoked. Indeed, this is far from her true self, it’s just a reflection of who she used and fakes to be. Slowly, she is developing a daring and bold attitude that sometimes comes out at unexpected times. She’s simply getting to know herself better now that she doesn’t have to obey anyone. She responds to her sponsor, but she isn’t serving him. Plus, the fights are basically forcing her to be more assertive, she knows that presence and psychological dominance can play a big part when you’re physically smaller than the majority of your opponents. It’s not like she was a submissive small fry before, never acted like one, but it is now she’s finally starting to match her potential.

Smart, cunning, analytical, untrusting, individualistic, dominant, fearless. She is driven by nothing else than proving her own worth to herself, she has found out that she thrives in violence and that she is pretty good at beating people up. Her fighting style is full of tricks and backstabbing.  Sometimes she shows another side of herself, more relaxed, flirtier and charmingly mischievous, a side she’s coming to after meeting new people, mostly those working for Iseul.

Her vulnerable side comes out at the memory of her mother and her mental health, especially during the last few months before dying. She doesn’t like at all talking about her or her past. This also leads to paranoia, wondering if one day someone will manage to take her back to the heart district, her debt still unpaid.

On another note, she rarely shows her fangs, tail, fluffy ears or anything that indicates her nature, which isn’t that common in the club borough and would give her out. Although, when she’s around people she trusts, mainly Iseul, she likes to display her foxy attributes.

She doesn’t discriminate based on ranks, knowing perfectly well what is like to be on the bottom, but she can be very judgmental towards highrankers if they show that very same kind of demeanor.

She has heard of the resistance many times, but she doesn’t care about it unless they mess with her lifestyle. It’s not like she disagrees with everything they stand for, but she obviously can’t accept their policies regarding vulpes’ feeding. Yes, humans are living beings, but she needs it to stay healthy and strong.

Congratulations Kisu your app has been accepted and we’re excited to have your muse on the dash with us.

PLEASE FOLLOW AND WELCOME @cunningtype TO KADEU!

[exhaustedfander]

For the one shot requests: Perhaps some Moceit fluff? Maybe some cuddles? Whatever you’d like 💙

In all fairness this said “whatever you’d like” so it’s got some angst, but not to worry. It’s my writing, so it’s a good old hurt/comfort with plenty of cuddling. I’d love to hear what you guys think, and reblogs are always appreciated!

ao3 link

My writing master post

word count: 2,952

Break a Little, Heart of Mine [Moceit]

Janus didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point. He thought back to when things first started when everything was just beginning to creep in, all so new and underdeveloped. He should’ve cut himself off from the feelings the moment they arose and now it was far too late to amputate, the disease having long since spread. There was no saving him now.

There were so many instances where he could’ve left, abandoned the newly forged relationships, and shut himself off again. It would’ve been easier that way, going back to being the villain, despised and untrusted. After all, who in their right mind puts their trust in a liar?

But he isn’t just a liar, now is he? He’s so much more than that, so much more than he might like to admit. And now the others knew too. Self-preservation is quite hard to villainize once you see it for what it is. Did they see him for what he was? He sincerely hoped not.

He shouldn’t have let them in, the others. He had a job to do, that’s the extent of it, and he did his job well. He’d maintained the persona of a wrongdoer for so long because it suited him. No one needed to trust him, not even Thomas, so long as he could do his job in peace. He would help Thomas without the gift of praise, he would do it all in spite of the other’s contempt, he would do anything necessary to ensure Thomas had the best life possible even if he hated him. Did it sting? Knowing the others had so much distain for him, that his host despised his very existence? What a preposterous question.

It hurt like hell. It burned, festering like a fire in the pit of his stomach for years with only Remus for company. Virgil had been there once, they’d been close. Janus didn’t like to think about that, knowing dwelling on the past would only distract him.

He supposed for a while not absolutely everyone despised him. Remus had never seemed to have any ill-will towards him, though it would be hard to tell if he did. The way Remus treated a friend and a foe was eerily similar. Janus had long since stopped trying to dissect Remus, looking for some hidden, deeper person hidden beneath the gore and crude humor. Remus was Remus, regardless of anything else. He was unabashedly himself, regardless of how much others might wish him to act otherwise. Honestly, he was a consistency that Janus was relieved he could always fall back on. He got on Janus’s nerves at the best of times, but that didn’t change the fact that they found company in being misfits.

Except…Janus wasn’t sure how much of an outcast he was now. Not after everything that had happened, not after Thomas had said those words that carried more weight than he would ever comprehend: I don’t know that we are. Roman had challenged Janus’s being present and Thomas had disagreed, rebelling against his hero.

Janus had never required Thomas’s respect, he’d never needed his admiration but now that he had it? He hardly knew what to make of it. It would be a lie to say that Janus hadn’t imagined a world in which Thomas cared for him and included him just as he did the other sides, but that had been nothing more than a fantasy as far as he was concerned. He’d never truly anticipated it, and now here he was, accepted, welcomed into the conversation, even.

And then there was Patton.

Janus’s feelings for Patton had always been fairly complicated. Their very existence made opposition inevitable; morality and deceit go about as hand-in-hand as oil and water. He’d fought to get his voice heard for years, but Patton wouldn’t allow it, too lost in a fantasy world where no wrong existed and lies were a gateway to evil. For some time Janus considered he might’ve hated Patton for what he’d put him through.

It was difficult, hating him, even after everything. Patton was so soft, so full of love for everyone except him. Janus knew that despite everything, Patton was well-intentioned in everything that he did. He would never want to hurt someone, certainly not Thomas, and yet once he had he lost control.

Janus had to admit, seeing Patton transform into a giant video-game frog with rippling abs was just about the strangest thing he’d ever borne witness to. Patton’s meltdown was not without consequences, either. Finally, after so many years of abject denial, Paton was forced to face the fact that morality is by no means a black-and-white issue. Selfishness is not equal with immorality and gluttony, and for the first time in front of the light sides, Janus presented himself fully. He wasn’t just Deceit, nor self-preservation alone; he was Janus.

Sharing his name hadn’t been something he’d intended to do, but Roman had questioned him with fear, asking how he could possibly be trusted. Revealing himself was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to do, that he’d ever have the courage to do. It wasn’t something he’d ever be able to take back even if he wanted to.

He’d dreamt of it sometimes, removing a glove, holding up his right hand and saying, clearly and confidently: “My name is Janus.”

This dream had never included Roman laughing in his face. It was instinctual, the retort he made comparing Roman to his twin. It wasn’t fair to either of them in the end, especially not Remus, but even now Janus didn’t fully regret what he’d done. It had taken so much to tell him, he knew Roman knew it wasn’t easy, and yet he’d laughed at him. He’d insulted him. And then he’d promptly sunk out when he got his feelings hurt.

So Thomas’s acceptance of him was something he hadn’t been counting on, but Patton? Now that was something else entirely.

Patton had been the first to use his name. Janus didn’t want to admit the way he liked his name on Patton’s lips, hearing it breathed out by someone who’d opposed him for so long. And he’d asked, genuinely and frightened if there was a limit to saying sorry to someone. Patton had hurt Thomas and Janus could tell how much it broke his heart knowing that. Now more than ever Janus could see that Patton had been doing his very best, flawed though his views were. He was so frightened and ill-equipped and now he seemed terrified that Thomas’s love for him would waver because of the mistakes that he’d made.

Maybe that’s where it all started, the feelings that had since invaded every inch of him. Patton had used his name and it had made him feel soft, and seen, and happy. Janus was foolish enough to indulge in this joy, telling himself that it was a small allowance he wouldn’t give into. He certainly wouldn’t endear himself to Patton, certainly, he had more self-preservation than that.

As it turned out, no. No, he didn’t.

He was instead spending more and more time with Patton, accompanying him in the common room or while he was (attempting) to bake. Janus often had to offer aid with that, otherwise, Patton tended to get distracted. They're time spent together is something that, despite his better judgment, was something Janus had become dangerously fond of. Patton himself, it seemed, was someone he’d become dangerously fond of.

Once the feelings began to escalate Janus did everything he could to bite them back and simply enjoy time with his friend. But then Patton had kissed him.

They’d been watching a movie alone together in the common room, a film Janus can’t recall considering how distracted he’d been the entire duration of it. Patton was a very touchy-feely person, Janus understood this well after years of seeing him interact with the others, but none of that could prepare him for Patton cuddling up against him under a blanket, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Is this okay?” Patton asked, and Janus had wanted to reply: “No! No this is far too much to handle! This is dangerous and all wrong, and something I should not be allowing happen!” But he couldn’t, not when that selfish, lonely part of himself had longed for something like this for so long.

And when their faces had been dangerously close together Patton had asked in a small, trembling voice, “Can I kiss you?” Janus should’ve said no, he should’ve left the room and never spoken to Patton again, but instead he simply nodded, giving into foolishness.

Janus continued to lie to himself, promising that he wouldn’t become too attached and would know when to take a step back. But despite all his best efforts, Janus was getting wrapped up in Patton and all that he represented. His feelings for the moral side were only deepening, their moments spent together become more frequent and intimate. He didn’t want to admit that he was becoming addicted to Patton’s kiss – that he was becoming reliant on the joy he felt when he was in any proximity to him.

Now here Janus was, lying in Patton’s bed beside his lover; how had he allowed things to go this far?

Janus was sure his feelings were reciprocated to some extent, but certainly not to the level he felt for Patton. There was no way.

Janus sat up in bed, his heart determined to beat right out of his chest. He considered pushing the covers off of himself and slinking back to his own room. He considered never returning, never facing Patton again unless it was absolutely necessary, he considered –

“Janus?” Janus flinched at the sound of his name, seeing Patton blinking awake beside him. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

His chest tightened at the sound of the pet name. Patton had been calling him so many things lately: honey, sweetheart, darling. Janus could hardly stand the way it made his heart break a little more every time he heard it.

“Nothing’s wrong, Pat,” he said far too quickly, cursing the weakness in his tone, “Go back to sleep.”

Well, shit, Janus thought to himself as Patton flicked on the lamp and rubbed his eyes before sliding on his glasses. Janus cast his gaze on the comforter, tracing the patterns of cats and dogs on the baby blue fabric before feeling a hand settle onto his shoulder, despising warmth blooming up his arm.

“Jan –.”

“I said I’m fine,” Janus hissed, hoping it would keep Patton’s concerns at bay, “nothing to worry about.” Patton sighed beside him, refusing to remove his hand. Janus wondered, stupidly, if Patton could feel him beginning to tremble.

“Sweetheart, I know something’s the matter. Something’s been the matter for some time, hasn’t it?” Janus’s silence spoke volumes. “I was trying to give you space and allow you some time to come to me with whatever it is, but I don’t think I can ignore it anymore. I’m sorry I ignored it at all. You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?” Janus continued to refuse meeting Patton’s gaze, his eyes still stubbornly stuck on the comforter.

“Not this, Patton. It’s – it’s too much,” Janus rasped out. His voice was fragile, unlike anything he’d ever known. Janus recalled a time not long ago where he was confident in his strength, in his judgment. Now, look at him, shivering under Patton’s touch, near tears because his feelings were too much to fucking handle.

“What’s too much? Please, I’m worried, Jan. You haven’t been acting like yourself.”

I don’t feel like myself, Janus thought to himself bitterly.

He’d been a villain for so long, no-good. It had been easy, even if it hurt, even if he longed for affection. At least he didn’t have to deal with these god damn emotions. God, he sounded like Logan.

“All of this,” Janus gritted out vaguely, finally meeting Patton’s flickering gaze, “You. The…” Janus swallowed the forming lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut, “…relationship that we have. I was the villain for so long, I don’t know how to be anything else. I don’t know how to do this.”

Janus shivered as he felt Patton take his left hand in his own, rubbing his thumb along the scales.

“But that isn’t true. You aren’t a villain – you never really were. Janus, honey, I’m so sorry for how I treated you for so long. I didn’t ever consider your worth and that is something I will never forgive myself for,” Patton’s voice wavered sadly before he continued, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be better now. As for us, am I overwhelming you?”

“I –,” Janus’s voice faltered, words failing.

“Talk to me, Jan. I just want things to be okay, but I don’t know how I can fix anything if I don’t know what’s going on.” Janus wanted to sink out of the room, to sob long and hard alone. He didn’t want to face this, but the heartbroken way that Patton’s spoken to him is something he can’t disregard. He let go of Patton’s hand.

“Truthfully, I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m afraid of the intimacy that y-you’ve shown me. I’m afraid of how strongly I feel for you, Patton.” The silence that hung over them was positively devastating before Patton spoke, soft and genuine:

“Janus…you know I love you, right?”

Janus’s heart panged as his head swilled to look at Patton whose eyes shone with sincerity.

“What – what did you just sssay?” The hiss that invaded his voice took them both equally by surprise. Janus was rarely at the mercy of his snake-traits, as it only happened in moments of intense emotion. It made sense, he supposed bitterly.

“I said: I love you,” Patton repeated, smiling at the flush that spread across the human side of Janus’s face.

“N-no you don’t,” Janus said as though he couldn’t sense when the others were lying. If Patton was being anything other than truthful, he would’ve been able to tell.

“Yes, I do. I didn’t want to say it before, I dunno, I figured I might scare you away.”

“Scare me away?” The notion was positively preposterous. How could Patton ever think that he could frighten Janus to any capacity? “I – are you being serious? The idea of you doing anything like that is ludicrous. I’ve just been so…”

“Afraid?” Patton supplied, his hand returning to Janus’s shoulder. Janus nodded, almost sadly. “Hey, that’s okay. It’s alright to be scared.” He shook his head.

“Not when it’s me. I’m not used to,” Janus gestured vaguely, “any of this. I’m not equipped to handle this kindness, or compassion, or love. How can you love me?” Patton frowned, wincing at the insecurity in Janus’s tone that reminded him far too much of himself.

“Because you’re you, Jan,” he answered as if it was that simple, “You’re kind and smart, and you always have everyone’s best interest in mind. I love you, Janus. I don’t know how it took me so long to realize, but I do.” Janus’s instincts to flee fell away as Patton’s threw his arms over his shoulder, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I love you too,” Janus admitted breathlessly, sighing as Patton ran a hand through his hair.

“We’ll tell the others about us in the morning, okay?” Janus blinked, yet refused to leave Patton’s arms.

“Really? Are – are you sure?” They both hadn’t mentioned the state of their relationship to any of the other sides, as Janus had been convinced Patton wouldn’t want to do so, and maybe Patton had thought the same about him. Knowing many of the light’s opinions of him, Janus didn’t have the highest of hopes for what the reactions would be.

“I’m positive. Unless you don’t want to yet?” Janus buried his face in Patton’s chest.

“Oh no, I despise the idea of everyone knowing of our relationship, so I can continue to feel like I need to keep it a secret.” Patton giggled, bright and pretty.

“That’s what I thought. Did talking make you feel better?” Patton massaged his scalp, making Janus melt further into him.

“Mmm yessss,” he hissed contently, earning another laugh, “I uh, mean, yes. It did. I’m still fairly out of my depth with this whole, “being accepted and loved thing.” Not that I told you any of that. I can’t have my reputation completely tarnished.

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good,” Janus said through a yawn, “But you’re certainly making it easier. I’m sorry…I should’ve talked to you.”

“It’s okay, honey. I understand. Feelings can be tricky, we’ll just take things one slither at a time.” Janus nodded against him with a strained laugh, sighing as Patton shut out the light and wrapped his arms around him again.

“Night-night, Jan. I love you,” Patton said, pressing a tired kiss to his lips before shutting his eyes.

“Goodnight, dearest,” Janus crooned, finally giving way to all of the affection that had been building inside of himself, “I love you too.”

For too long, Janus hadn’t thought himself capable of love, nor deserving of it. Once he received it, the fear that such things were temporary or not as intense as his feelings plagued his mind and for the first time in a long time, he got scared. Janus was happy to have his fears invalidated, though. The idea of having someone who truly, genuinely cared so deeply about him was still a frightening concept, but one that he was becoming sure he could handle.

Janus shut his eyes, sleeping deeply, and dreaming of love.

=+=

[moonchildsaurora]

The ex-Mercenary with the endearing dimples

»»—— Crew Member #5 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

“if you fall for those dimples, then you’re already half-way in the hunter’s trap”

only a handful of people actually know of his origins, and being a changeling sure comes with a lot of perks for his (previous) field of work

[database file: changelings are nomadic beings, and are able to shift both face and form at will. There are no official records of a changeling’s standard/normal form, and very rarely would anyone get a chance to witness it. Most changelings take on forms of existing beings, depending on the location they’re at and how much they want to blend in, some preferring to add their own artistic flair on appearance]  

San’s hair changes almost as quickly as he changes his dagger blades, his current hair of a rich dark brown colour with a turf of silver that never seem to stop shimmering slightly – much like moon light. Which makes his Selenian [database file: moon/silver elves] form all that more convincing

he started his mercenary life on the planet Tundaoria, where all main networks of black markets and underground work are based at

young blood with no last name, a growing reputation – San is an all-round enigma. But he had a talent for tracking, deadly accuracy and disappearing without a trace, hence nobody questioned him other than for getting a job done

he used to work with a small group, ‘Windstriders’, known for their efficient timeframe and clean work. People pay for the quality, majority of the time San worked with others but sometimes he might pick up a few solo missions on the side

earned the nickname ‘Dimples’ from his ex-team mates however whilst he seems harmless on first glance, “the kid? Aye he’s one big sweetheart he is”, he’s learnt to use that highly skewed perception to his advantage

that’s to say he’s managed to coax beings either to bed for a night of pleasure or their deathbeds, talk about deadly charisma  

“so on average, what are the chances of someone walking out of your room alive?” 

San prides himself with maintaining a level of morality, and won’t kill unless it’s the specific target themselves and/or out of self-defence for any unfortunate souls who decide to intervene with his job. Has nothing against stealing or gambling because, “what’s living without taking a few risks?”

lowkey has a soft spot for younglings and became unexpectedly close to a particular orphanage in a town on the far northern-side of the planet. The head guardian (most orphanages are cared by a guardian or two) found San passed out nearby after a particularly tedious mission and took him in for healing. Since then that place had become an unofficial healer’s spot and safe house  

the younglings absolutely adored having him visit, especially when “look, look! The Moon Prince is here!”, bearing gifts such as trinkets, new toys or aleagette pastries [database: assorted savoury or sweet pastry-type snacks that melt in the mouth when eaten, the surprise is that the flavour isn’t known until the first bite]. San would later on start contributing part of his earnings towards the upkeep of the orphanage as a repayment for the guardians’ hospitality (and it’s really for the younglings but he won’t admit that)

every time a youngling treats him to a toothy smile, a wild giggle or when the bolder ones would run up and wrap their petite arms around his legs his fondness grows exponentially. Once, a guardian caught him helping the younglings doodle whatever their hearts desired on themselves so they could match the many permanent silver ink patterns that decorated his arms and back

“already influencing the little ones with your ways, Sannie?” (another nickname that the younglings picked up on and would parrot it back)

“I’ll have you know what we’re doing here is called art”

the one time San was caught off guard was having a past target’s associate track him down to his safe space and carry out a revenge attack – “you took my family away from me and now I’m going to take yours”          

San never fully recovered (the invisible wounds at least) for causing innocents to get caught up in the crossfire, for realising too late how attached he’s become to these people and their meaningful presence in his life 

as a parting favour, the Windstriders helped San relocate the survivors of the orphanage far away to the much more peaceful city of Aeria (known as ‘City of Healing’ on the planet Cidestea). They said goodbye to a reliable comrade, to his old identity, to his previous lifestyle; mutually promising that contact will only be made again in a dire situation as a last resort – Dimples was off the radar for good

5 years later, after a successful loot haul The Perihelion stopped by Aeria for a re-fuel and mainly because Seonghwa wouldn’t miss an opportunity to stock up on his medicinal herbs (also adopting some new plant children). Hongjoong led his small crew after being directed by a local to “the best tea spot in town” which turned out to be ‘Mosaic Brews’ run by none other than San

now sporting a more turquoise shade of hair and a woodland elven appearance where once silver ink ran along his skin, now a bold black-brown. The younglings who decided to stick by him now have grown too, toughened up by life yet maintained their soft innocence under San’s care for the past years

curiously they stared in awe at Yunho and Mingi, clearly never seeing such giants (to them) before, the older ones enthusiastically brought out the multi-coloured teas for their new guests and the younger ones were spoiled by Seonghwa’s constant cooing. Hongjoong thought San was more than what met his eyes, the seemingly bright shop owner who’s dimples were on full display and heartily conversed with the young captain still had a guarded air around him

it wasn’t until Yunho and Seonghwa gave a few Urousbaines (with captain’s approval of course, one does not just hand out rarities for free) from their loot to the younglings and San’s nonchalant reaction that got Hongjoong’s eyes sparkling

“don’t worry little one, the flower isn’t frozen, here pass me that water bowl.” and the younglings are still convinced till this day that San is some intergalactic prince with magical powers. Because right in front of their eyes the supposedly frozen flower bloomed and the sunlight refracted off its crystal-like petals, casting a spectrum of colours to fill the small shop

“oh how wondrous! How did you know to do that?” (…and San has left the chat)

A LOT of convincing was needed to get San to hear Hongjoong out (by now the crew knew what their captain wants, he gets) and only after tucking the younglings in for the evening in their rooms on the upper level of the shop did the serious talk start

San swore to leave that life behind but he would be kidding himself if he said he didn’t feel a slight tug at his heart for adventure, yet again. It was a tug-of-war between what the head knows vs. what the heart yearns for

“But Sannie how are you going to save the galaxy if you’re stuck here?” came the soft-spoken voice of the youngest and the group nearly had whiplash turning around. The younglings had snuck downstairs and listened in on the convo, knowing it’ll be sad to part with San but even sadder for him to purposely hold back

the younglings won the debate, that they weren’t naïve nor helpless anymore and together they could take care of themselves and the shop – after all they’ve only learnt from the best (San did notify some of the locals whom were trusted regulars of his temporary leave and to keep an eye on the younglings in his stead)

Yunho offered a communication bot to keep in touch so San could check-in whenever he wished, the younglings were fascinated as the Sheirzoi showed them how to work it and a chorus of “oohs” and “ahhs” were heard when they saw the main deck of the ship through the screen. At present, he made sure to check-in at least once every week, all smiles & dimples when he sees the little ones’ faces squeezed into the single screen

San held onto the younglings right up until he boarded The Perihelion, and making sure to wave back until they were right out of sight. He packed simply but made sure to put up some of the drawings the younger ones gifted him up on his room’s walls and the ‘lucky charm’ that got braided into his hair was worn proudly (the older kids had woven a band with colourful beads & crystallised Echetta wings they found in the garden – from the ‘lucky butterfly’)

the crew reminded him of his old team, how they looked out for one another despite not being blood-related but nevertheless a family of sorts. Eventually everyone found out of his changeling abilities after he nearly gave them a heart attack, “SAN! YOU’RE PURPLE…WHY IS YOUR SKIN PURPLE?!”

Hongjoong never dug too deep into San’s past but was very grateful and appreciative of his fighting skills, thus made him in charge of training the others to be able to defend themselves at least. Cue strict combat trainer San to pop out (Yeosang adds a new curse word to his vocab list after every lesson)

they’ve seen his lethal side where he went on a rampage after Seonghwa got shot

Is probably the only one Jongho trusts to trial his new weapons without blowing something or someone up accidentally

argues with the hot-headed Wooyoung frequently that sometimes Seonghwa has to put them in time-out, initially was legit arguments but now it’s more with an affectionate undertone

Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly gave him ‘the space dad & mum talk’ after, “bloody hell did you get attacked or something?” upon seeing an array of purple-pink marks across San’s neck when he came stumbling back to the ship just near dawn. The faint scent of perfume lingering and tousled hair gave away that much. “At least leave us a message if not we’re sending the precious cargo retrieval brigade next time”

recently adopted a Kiatrafel [database file: small winged feline-like creature that can spit fire], he calls her “my girl” and is in the midst of training it to not mark its territory everywhere (including on people)

“SAN! Your hellcat just pissed on Hongjoong...again and coughed up flames on Yunho’s notes. Captain says if you don’t come within 5 seconds he’s throwing her down the chute”                                          

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk​ ♡)

[readbythestarlight]

c2e98

I’m a few days behind but here we go

Ashley xD

"A CAPELLA?!"

I hope Marion didn’t get anxious when she realized the M9 left her at the party

E: "I know I can protect myself. I don’t think I can protect all of you. That is why I am worried." </3

C: "Make no mistake, we do not trust you."

E: "Good, that will help you survive."

C: "That doesn’t mean we don’t hope for you. It’s a tricky balance, Essek."

E: "Isn’t everything?"

[[MORE]]

I feel like given the histories of some of the others (and the way members of their group have casually committed murder on several occasions) Beau is being a liiiiiittle judgemental

I mean I get it

Ohhhh got some inner group conflict!

Cad doesn’t want to risk reigniting the war just for revenge, Nott and Beau and Caleb at least don’t agree. Could be interesting.

Mmm idk Veth, Yeza doesn’t really seem like the vengeance type

"You don’t want to punish the people who made you, you want to make sure no one makes [another] you. Remember that." Goddamn Caduceus.

lol the hat™️

"Everyone was so enthralled."

"....Yeah ;)"

I adore Marion

Fjord is such a sweetheart

This Fjord Jester banter is amazing I love them

Last week Fjord third wheeled on. BeauYahsa date, and now he gets to go on a dinner date with Jester. Nice.

I feel like their tone towards Essek has shifted a bit since last week. For Caleb to say now that his redemption seems unlikely? That was NOT the vibe I was getting before.

"Use the man" see and I don’t quite like that either?

Also it’s weird that Nott went from "welcome to the mighty nein" to "he’s a bad person who I don’t trust and who can’t be forgiven" (not her exact words but the vibe I’m getting)

Maybe I’m just too fond of Essek

And like I’m 100% here for a long journey to redemption where he has to take steps and do so much

But I’m not down for this idea of "I don’t think he can even do it"

And I appreciate that Caduceus and somewhat Caleb and somewhat Jester and somewhat Fjord are in support of his having a chance

But Veth and Beau are being a liiiiittle harsh considering their own track records for moral choices, considering Nott was willing to consider continuing the war and, again, they’ve frequently killed people with no reason

B: "you have a great sense of branding, Caleb."

C: "do I really? I am not using my actual name."

New tarot cards:

The jewel and the thief NICE

the spark and the blaze

Death and dawn

Damn Laura those are amazing

Cad talking to every animal ever is amazing

A ~mystery case for 500gp

I love this shopkeeper

Her: "it helps me maintain my gardens"

Cad: O_O

Of course THAT’S what he wants

Oh no he’s so bad with money

CAD

THAT’S 200gp FOR A PLANT NECKLACE

He DYES his hair?? I THOUGHT HIS HAIR WAS NATURALLY PINK

Omg Cad

You can really tell he’s a prankster at heart these days

WOAH this fan is COOL

Beau’s AtlA vibes keep getting stronger and stronger

A box oh boy

Fjord, Mr. Curious, is never NOT going to give you permission to open a thing

Omg Jester talking about her feelings about the Traveler FINALLY

Girl craft time is now feeling time

Fjord as acting captain is the best

It’s nice of Caleb to go and compliment everyone and also to make sure that Fjord knows they notice the changes he’s made too

Which I think Fjord needs to hear

Like he’s so background now, just trying to take care of them

And I love when they decide to make sure he knows they notice how he’s changed and how much happier he is and how good he is overall

Oh dang we getting some good Fjord feels now

Those good Caleb and Fjord feels

I’ve missed their talks so much

I love my half orc son

Ouch now some Caleb feels

MY! BOYS! MY FEELS!

godDAMN I have missed when they talk.

Fjord and Caleb are always going to be such a special pair to me and that’s never gonna change

Fjord pouring his tea off the side is my favorite xD

"Saffron and mushrooms" ew

Also the way Fjord wants to please them all over the little things (the hat, the tea) is so endearing

Gonna be real though being on the ocean again for the first time properly since Fjord changed allegences makes me nervous. U’kotoa is def gonna somehow become involved.

Oooo storm a’comin’!

I’m so far behind but here we go finally catching up

Okay well I’m not worried about Ashley/Yasha leaving which means I can enjoy this visit from the Storm Lord

Also holy shit Matt the lightning??

“Prove”?

OUCH baby girl!!

FEATHERS

YOU GO BABY GIRL!!

“You are worthy, both of my guidance and of your own acceptance. This path before you is long, and I won’t let you stray.”

MY EMOTIONS

Storm Lord: “love your friends! Love yourself!”

Oh fuck Fjord’s turn

No FUCK the falchion is back

WHAT

No

NO

FJORD

BABY

WHO

WHO IS IT

fuck

Oh fuck someone else has the falchion

AVANTIKA??

OH MY GOD

ITS GONNA BE HER ISNT IT??

What is it???????

HE’S ALL BY HIMSELF

I KNEW something was gonna happen to Fjord with them back on the ocean

Fuck fuck fuck

Oh thank god Orli

Fuckity fuck fuck

Oh fuuuuuck someone get to Fjord

Be safe Orli!!

NO

ORLI

I’m concerned about the cleric spell usage...

Fuck fuck fuck FJORD fuck

FUDUDJDKDLCK

HE’S DOWN

NO

They’re not going to stop until they get what they want from Fjord are they...

But Matt if he hadn’t moved past Yasha he wouldn’t have been grappled in the first place

Oh Fjord...

Fuck

Oh thank god

I mean I’ve seen spoilery art I know what’s coming but still somehow I’m tense

Cad and his beetles are KILLING it

I don’t really know how this works out but if he’s perma-dead I may have to take a break

Idk I know it’s just fiction but I can’t handle this

MATTHEW

YOU CANT KILL ORLI TOO

FUCK YOU

I’m gonna cry about Fjord and Orli both

This isn’t fair or funny

Taliesin is SHAKING

I just almost had a heart attack thinking they would take Fjord

Thank god for counterspell

Fuck Ashley you badass!!

Oh Fjord tho...

And Orli...

God okay so I was under the impression that Fjord was 100% dead and the clerics had no spells left, but nobody seems that worried so I feel much better.

If they can’t bring Fjord AND Orli back tho I will cry

On to episode 99...

[phdcedotcom]

Self-Protection and Machiavelli

A requirement I maintain for my Black Belts is to read certain books from a list that I have found over the years to be wellsprings of knowledge concerning self-protection. While I do require some of the traditional tomes such as the Hagakure, much of what I require my Black Belts to read was never intended to be read from a traditional martial arts context. One such book is The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli.

At the onset, if Machiavelli were still alive today, there is substantial doubt that he and I would see eye to eye on many topics, most notably religion. He did however understand the role of violence in human relations, or lack thereof. He understood that civility has its limits. He was far ahead of his time in understanding that social contracts are anything but binding. Among the many assertions made in The Prince, one is meritorious in our society as we watch it disintegrate before our very eyes.

“People should either be caressed or crushed. If you do them minor damage they will get their revenge; but if you cripple them there is nothing they can do. If you need to injure someone, do it in such a way that you do not have to fear their vengeance.”

I can hear the gasps from here. Why on Earth would someone teaching people to protect themselves from harmful elements in society espouse such aggressive ideologies? The answer to that question is rather straightforward and simple. If you are one that has asked  the aforementioned question, have you turned on a television in the last four weeks? Have you been ensnared in a rapidly evolving cultural exercise in the American inner city referred to as a protest, the burning buildings notwithstanding?

Bravado is part of the American lexicon. “You may start it, but I’ll finish it.” This rather simple statement of self-identified gallantry begs one question: To what extent will you finish it, whatever “it” may be? Is that a bloody nose? A bruised ego? To expand on these possibilities, now ask yourself if the bruised ego or bloody nose will be sufficient to repel an assault from one of the cultural ballets that entertains us on a frequent basis in America.

Recently, I have had some animated conversations with many people close to me in my personal and professional life. Each individual related to me what they were willing to do in order to protect themselves, their family, and their sacred treasure if confronted with a throng of roving hordes of protesters. The question then becomes, what is driving them to make such statements? To examine this question, we return to Machiavelli, who stated that men are driven by one of two primary impulses, which are fear or love.

I mean this with as much love and respect as I can muster, but in the vast majority of cases, almost all cases actually, even the highest trained martial artist, marksman, or security conscious citizen stands ill-equipped to confront savagery in its most raw form. I will go as far as to say that most law enforcement officers that patrol our neighborhoods daily are ill equipped to look into the abyss. The reason for this is not because they are guided by one of the two impulses mentioned by Machiavelli. It is because they are governed and driven by both impulses simultaneously. We are terrified by the thought of losing what we love.

Being ensconced in the criminal culture, one thing that has not escaped me in my research and my professional travels is that the most violent people in society act on impulse, not rote reaction to stimuli. They are hyper-focused on the task at hand. They have little regard for short-term or long-term consequences that may result from decisions surrounding pleasure versus pain. They have been trained by doing, not by rehearsal. Their thought process does not stray into musings regarding things of value and endearment. They simply revert back to a natural state devoid of morality and become killing machines.

I asked several close associates of mine recently what things would go through their mind if confronted with a life and death situation that would likely result in the necessity of utilizing lethal force. The usual emotional suspects were resurrected, which were thoughts of their families, safety, their livelihoods, and the potential liability that could endanger their acquired treasure. In these cases, the individual in question has already lost the encounter because their focus has been diverted from the threat to their emotional or tangible sustainability. They are not seeking victory that will be made manifest through violence. Rather, they are seeking not to lose by holding on to the things that cannot help them survive in the moment of truth.

I am quickly becoming cognizant of the fact that many of my students and clients are not adapting to the “new normal” in American society. I detest that term by the way because it connotes the defining of normal by unknown, future facets of life that we can neither predict nor control. But it does have merit in our present circumstance because the new normal in America has strayed from peace and prosperity to angst, distrust, and barbarism. As martial arts instructors and self-protection teachers and mentors, we can no longer bury our heads in the sand and teach antiquated methodologies and mindsets. To do so is simply turning our clients and students into cannon fodder.

Our neighbors in the law enforcement community often make reference to a use of force continuum. This continuum dictates how they use physical violence to protect themselves or citizens during the unfortunate circumstance of a confrontation. To varying degrees, these continuums are made up of variables such as officer presence at a scene, verbal commands, and the use of various physical implements that can cause physical pain. The continuum also includes the use of tools that by their nature are lethal and can cause death or serious bodily injury.

My business partner and I make clear distinctions between martial artists and practitioners of self-protection methods and strategies. Self-protection practitioners learn skills and tactics that aid them in the detection, deterrence, and defeat of criminal threats against their well-being. Martial artists also share this skillset, but it is light years ahead in terms of refinement. Martial artists study violence and war and apply it accordingly.

We teach our clients to flee at all cost if conditions warrant. These conditions may include social elements such as crowds, or it may encompass physical elements such as terrain. The physical or emotional capacity of the person must also be taken into account. What may be justified for a physically fit adult male in his forties may not be conducive for a man confined to a wheelchair, and vice versa. If confrontation results, we teach our clients to “fight to flee,” meaning we do enough damage to ensure a safe retreat out of the clutches of the aggressor.

We now live in different times, in which mass gatherings can arise out of a very limited time and space continuum. The spaces that used to be safe for many Americans are now a battleground. What then do we teach our clients in a social climate where the social contract has come undone and savagery is the new soup du jour?

We teach a three-pronged approach to self-protection. First, principles of environmental and situational awareness are now paramount. It is simply not enough to be aware of situations. We must now be ever mindful of our environment. The places we used to think were safe may devolve into hotbeds of activity in an instant. Second, we must change what may be termed our emotion set instead of the mindset. Thoughts of loss, grief, and anxiety must be placed into the proper context in life at that specific moment in time. When teaching women, I reject the idea of not fighting back because it has taken her agency and dignity away from her in return for a future that will be wrought with uncertainty and memories of horror.

Finally, we must refine our training methodologies to include malicious tactics without malicious intent. It is at this point that teachings of Machiavelli come into play. In situations where one’s life hangs in the balance, there is no room for second guessing or the fear of judgment by others. A common complaint amongst law enforcement officers is the mischief associated with the Monday Morning Quarterback. The same holds true for a person that is truly in fear for their life in a circumstance that evolves quickly. If a student is truly in fear for their life in a scenario witnessed on television far too frequently today, we are not being honest with them when we teach them to fight with rules as they are being ravaged by those who have no regard for the rule of law. If your life hangs in the balance, give your adversary no room for retaliation. The difference between the criminal and the righteous citizen lies in the condition of the heart, not the act itself.

I hope one day to be able to retract this shift in focus. Social and political movements tend to swing like pendulums. We are witnessing an extreme swing to one side of the pendulum at present moment, and eventually it will move in the opposite direction. We must prepare our clients and students for what lies on each end of that spectrum as well as the middle.

Find me.

-PhDCE

[bookmarathon]

2. the handmaid’s tale

“There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from.”

rating: 8.8/10 veils

quick summary: In the near/far future, extremist Christians have taken over and forced women into subjugation. They can be Wives, Econowives, Handmaids, Marthas, or worst of all, Unwomen, but in any case they are intended to be silent and exist for men. Our protagonist, who’s been named Offred (because her Commander’s name is Fred), is a Handmaid, which means her job is to get pregnant by whoever her the Commander of her house is. She remembers a past before she was brought from house to house as a Handmaid, and even before she was indoctrinated at the Center - she remembers a husband, a daughter, and her best friend Moira. Offred has a complicated life with the other men and women in her house. She wants to rebel, but isn’t sure who to trust or if she quite has the nerve for it. 

highs: 

relevant & important themes about women and freedom

The reason I wrote near/far future in the quick summary was because it really does feel like it could be either. I can’t believe that Atwood wrote this book in 1984 and it still feels so modern, which is a testament to her writing but also to deep flaws in our society, sigh (whaddya know, there are still a lot of people who think women should just focus on having kids and be generally more quiet and demand less equality). The idea about freedom in the quote above is an interesting one that readers are asked to consider: that the more free will people are allowed to have, the less free they are of certain dangers. It’s also a chilling look at how fear can be used to manipulate people, to change the way they think and act. An extremist knows how to take a reasonable fear, like disease and contamination leading to less chances of pregnancy/successful births, and somehow make people believe that an unreasonable solution, like making women’s sole purpose to conceive and not allowing them to be distracted by other things like jobs and reading, is the only justifiable course of action. When a person lives a passive life, when they are defined by another person (in this case, men), it’s hard for them to have much power. What will people do to feel like they have power? 

a thoughtful, sensitive, complex main character

The way Offred thinks is captivating. I love her habit of thinking in chains of random facts that she notes have no relation to each other. Her contemplations on whether she is in or out or even through time are also very memorable. The subjects that swim in and out of her thoughts constantly and the words she uses to think about them make her pain tangible. Additionally, I like that Offred wasn’t perfect. For example, the husband she reminisced on was the result of an affair. She also later (spoiler!) loses sight of her desire to escape when she starts to get attached to Nick. She’s not quite as bold or brave as her friend Moira, but she’s smart and endearing. She looks at situations and tries to think beyond her own perspective. She’s honest about her own emotions and doesn’t try to repress them even when they’re not quite so honorable. These kinds of main characters feel more real and more believable to me than selfless-hero types. 

no one antagonist, imo

This kind of reminds of how after the Holocaust, people at every level of the Nazi Party said that they were just following orders, and it was kind of confusing as to how many levels down we thought they were appeased of guilt. It’s hard to pinpoint one specific antagonist here. Serena, or the Wives? Well, we can see why they’re bitter about being deemed useless as women. The Commander? For the most part he keeps to himself; when he interacts with the women it’s pretty much always dictated by laws intended to raise the population. He also tries to break the rules a little bit. Aunt Lydia, or another Aunt? Even though they’re enforcing and teaching terrible rules, there’s also just a level of pity for a woman who so frequently degrades women for a living. Even sadder if she truly believes it. All the other possible people at fault, the mysterious guards or Angels or higher-ups or whoever, aren’t really given a face or role in The Handmaid’s Tale. They feel far away. It seems like the people around Offred, whether they’re supporting her or conspiring against her, are just acting the way they are because that’s the only way they can bear to live. They need to convince themselves that they’re in control, that they have some power in this life, by pretending they are superior, or that they’re acting from a moral place, or removing themselves from seeing any consequences of their actions. There’s at least one point for every character in the novel I didn’t like when it seemed like they recognized what they were doing wasn’t right, but just tried to cope with the position they’d been given. There are so many different roles needed to maintain the current system of oppression, and I can’t pin the blame on just one person, so it sort of becomes like...everyone’s responsibility? Even Offred, a little bit, for letting herself become passive and accustomed to this way of life. But can we blame her, or any of them, for what they do? Who deserves more blame? I don’t think I can answer, and I like that, because it presents a more complex view of how such a terrible government could rise and retain power. 

an ending that gives hope but not a definitive outcome

This is actually really embarrassing- I didn’t actually realize there was an epilogue to this book at first, so at first I actually docked a full point for the way it ended because I thought there was no resolution at all. I felt like the book would have been better if the van had either been to truly take her away and kill her, or if it had been part of the resistance. Like, I didn’t think it needed to go further than that, but I feel like the audience deserved to know that much - one choice would have sent a message maybe about the futility of resisting and importance of being careful, the other choice a message of hope for the future and peoples’s tendency to fight injustice. But when I found the epilogue that all changed! The epilogue is narrated by a keynote speaker at a convention about Gilead, past-tense. So this actually makes it okay that we don’t get to see what happens to Offred. That whether she did or didn’t get to be part of the resistance isn’t as important, because we know that somehow, some people did, because Gilead no longer exists. And her story is just one of many. I’m really satisfied with that ending. I don’t need books to tell me exactly what happens, but I like a sliver of resolution and I’m satisfied with this hope that people were able to break out of Gilead and make it something archaic, something to be studied. 

lows:

slightly little confusing worldbuilding

I see the value of slowly acclimating a reader to a new world, but I wish The Handmaid’s Tale had been a little quicker. Perhaps a solid chunk explaining the Marthas, Econowives, Salvaging, etc.? I didn’t find myself fully confident that I’d grasped some of those concepts until near the late middle of the book. At that point it wasn’t fun to try and piece together clues in my mind anymore, it was just frustrating because I had vague ideas but I couldn’t be 100% certain they were right. I get that Offred wouldn’t have been like the narrator of the epilogue, someone who studied Gilead and could explain the society in a scholarly way, but I feel that it wouldn’t have been hard for Atwood to make it a little easier for us without taking away from Offred’s narrative. 

tl;dr: This was a thought-provoking read. The power for me was more in the themes and ideas rather than any specific writing style. It was a little confusing at some points, but the message is strong and timely enough that it comes through even when you don’t understand all the details.

[caricatlc]

BASICS –

full name: alice marisol romero

nicknames: none

birthdate: 4 august 2025

birthplace: plattsburgh, new york

ethnicity: columbian, cuban, and caucasian

nationality: american, english 

languages: english, spanish

accent: slight bronx accent

APPEARANCE –

hair color & style: dark brown, usually kept waist-length and wavy, with green tips after breaking up with nigel

eye color: dark brown

height: five feet five inches

build: thicc. muscular but also hyper-feminine

skin tone: olive skin that rarely burns and tans well

personal style: 

grunge lite. alice prefers to be comfortable above all else, so soft fabrics and denim are her go-tos. when she dates nigel she adopts a more instagram ho aesthetic to match his, but her heart isn’t really into bodycon dresses if she cant accessorize them with doc martens and a flannel. 

distinguishing marks: expressive face

tattoos: ‘esforzada’ on back of neck ( x ), ivy on left wrist ( x )

piercings: two piercings in both lobes, helix piercing in left ear, daith and industrial in right ear, belly button

FAMILY –

parents: noah romero and lia villace

parental relationships:

while seth is more gregarious, alice is a quiet reflection of noah. as a result, their relationship deals largely in companionable silence. he’s not one to gossip with but always good help for moral quandaries. he’s also more likely to catch alice in the middle of doing something wrong,  but mostly just offers gentle advice and hopes for the best. alice really hates to disappoint her father.

lia is a fun parent. alice almost always has fun with her mother, even if the interaction ends on a sour note. she can run a lot of day-to-day thoughts past her mother-- lia is kept mostly in the loop about the goings on in her daughter’s life. however, some compulsion leads alice to remain silent about her love life as it seems like it would be much easier to let her mother believe that everything is going fine.

siblings: rex, seth, and michael romero

sibling relationships:

when rex came into their lives, alice understood the difference between her twin and an actually older brother immediately. she enjoys spending time with rex, and ever since she was young she was always content to tag along with her ‘fun’ brother.

what can alice say about seth? they know each other better than anyone else, and speak almost exclusively in snark. but opposites don’t always attract, and their very big, drastically different personalities clash and erupt frequently. when times are good, though, they’re each other’s biggest hype-man as they snap another selfie.

michael is a strange one, but alice will always hold a tenderness for her little brother. she’s helped house dozens of wild animals and filmed a vine or two in her time. while she’s not keen on him bringing insects into the house it’d certainly be difficult for her to turn him down for anything.

birth order: only girl, younger twin, middle child

status in family:

alice likes to think that she’s practically invisible in her family. she’s not as rebellious as rex, or as obnoxious as seth, or as rambunctious as michael. but alice is a quiet ride-along for almost everyone in her family-- she really holds good relationships with everyone in the house. for the most part, it really seems like her parents and brother just want the best for her.

distant relations: bash romero, second cousin

pets:

wells and bilbo, the dogs, are always happy to see her, but she’s also conditioned them to remain quiet if they want a treat from her nightly comings and goings. felix, the cat, is a good companion on a gloomy day, with alice finding comfort in his rumbling, sleepy purr.

FRIENDS –

close friends:

alice has known ellie albright since birth. or even before that since ellie’s parents attended the same birthing classes as alice’s. the albrights returned to italy for a few years shortly after ellie’s birth but the two girls were paired up again before they could even tie their shoes. they’ve been best friends ever since. ellie brightens alice up to draw out a softer side than alice rarely presents alone. alice makes ellie more assertive, unafraid to stand up for her friend if she thinks ellie needs help.

it took rumi thatcher a bit longer to enter the picture, but she’s not going anywhere. rumi’s dead-pan sense of humor endeared her to alice immediately after she moved into town in the forth grade. ever the calm logician, rumi finds great amusement in tempering alice’s hot temper. they share a mutual love of nature that often leads them to dreamy afternoons surrounded by beautiful woods.

technically considered a cousin through brotherly love, dallas hong is probably the only boy that alice can completely get along with. he’s certainly the easiest to get along with out of her brother’s crew, with his laidback guy’s guy charm. while she’s annoyed at how tall he’s gotten as they age, she knows that his easygoing personality won’t ever change on her.

tensions:

adam hudson has been seth’s best friend for years, but his and alice’s interactions have always been tentative. he has a way of confronting her with the truth when she’s least likely to accept it. their relationship is hard to define, atleast on alice’s part.

alice and dapne newcomb used to be friends, much to the chagrin of ellie and rumi. the brash blonde wasn’t  always a good influence, and they tended to clash over their many differences in opinion. it wasn’t until alice supposedly ‘stole’ nigel chadwick-wembley from daphne that their relationship fractured completely. daphne is the root cause for much of the suffering alice experienced in high school, so she’s not at all keen to rekindle the friendship.

if there’s one person that alice could do without ever seeing again, it’s nigel chadwick-wembley. he was her first real boyfriend, but the supposed fairytale beginning led to nothing but trouble, even if alice did her best to keep anyone from finding out about the more controlling aspects of his personality. they were on-again off-again for so long, but alice finally broke it off for good and never looked back.

there’s nothing wrong with ruby robbins-- in fact, she’s perfect. alice has always felt like she was competing with the other girl, even if that’s hardly true. they share similar interests but ruby’s easygoing demeanor makes everything seem so effortless in a way that alice can’t help but envy. she does consider ruby a friend, though, and would do anything for her if she asked.

crushes:

so much of the tension in alice’s relationship with adam hudson stems entirely from their mutual attraction. when they were much younger she was aware of it but content to ignore it, but as they’ve grown older things have changed. alice finds herself at odds with his ill-suited girlfriend and with him over it. ever since she kissed him on christmas, the muddled emotions there have only gotten worse.

the first boy that ever had alice truly starstruck was leo robbins. the definition of a cool, older boy, leo’s appeal quickly passed but she remained impressed by his sense of style and teenage rebellion. in fact, alice was quick to take up his mantle selling weed to a few of their acquaintances when leo decided to move on from the business. 

as a friend:

alice is a friend like batman-- she’ll come if you send out the signal. anytime anywhere, alice will be by your side if you’d let her. she’s fiercely protective of them and will want to help them achieve their goals no matter how trivial. she can be too blunt at times, which tends to rub people the wrong way if it’s not quite what they want or expect to hear. but she’ll have your back until the end, without saying ‘i told you so’ to anyone but seth.

PERSONALITY –

positive traits: enterprising, candid, empathetic 

neutral traits: self-sufficient, meticulous, noncommittal

negative traits: volatile, withdrawn, self-involved

astrology sign: leo sun / gemini moon, the confidence man ( x )

mbti: istp-t, the virtuoso

theme songs: i’m not okay (i promise) by my chemical romance / agnes by glass animals

aesthetic:

dyeing your hair in the bathroom, guitar calluses, jumping off the porch roof, lilac bushes, the solitary silence of 4 am, soil between your fingers and toes

LIFESTYLE –

partying habits:

a stoner to the max, alice deals quite literally in weed, inheriting a small client base from leo robbins. when she first started dating nigel, alice found she didn’t mind the party scene. there’s always fun to be had, and she can handle her alcohol. she’s also not necessarily opposed to experimenting at parties-- if there’s a good time to be had, alice will try a sporadic drug or two without feeling particularly inclined to do these things later on her own.  

smoking habits:

directly inherited from her father, alice took up smoking as an act of teenage rebellion and favors menthol cigarettes. she finds it calming to smoke late at night when no one is around, or whenever she is overwhelmed by the situation at hand. finds it to be a handy tool to escape social situations if things aren’t going well.

eating habits:

growing up in a four-child household has definitely made alice a bit food aggressive. she eats when the opportunity presents itself but doesn’t pig out very often. snacks usually seem like a good idea, and alice is content to bring healthy options when she can. late-night meals are a staple in her diet. salty-sweet combinations are her usual favorite.

excercise habits:

alice has been practicing aikido and tae kwon do since she was young, and as a result has adopted a fair amount of exercise and weight training into her daily routine. mostly she just works to maintain equilibrium and not lose any muscle mass or physical ability, but if she’s feeling particularly stressed or upset she’ll throw herself into her workouts.

work ethic:

it’s alice’s belief that she can work hard and play hard, so long as she meets the deadlines set out for her. she’s got decent time management skills and works best with a loose schedule where she can make the decisions about what to do, when. when it comes to school work, alice is content to maintain her good grades in order to fly under the radar with her parents. 

sleeping habits:

when alice feels tired she can fall asleep anywhere, but her penchant for the peace of nighttime usually finds her awake well into the early mornings. she is a deep sleeper, but an agreeable one. sharing a bed with her is not a bad experience as she’ll typically move wherever she is prodded without much fuss. she usually prefers to sleep with a loose comforter and top sheet and will cocoon inside. waking up outside of her typical routine can be a challenge, but once alice wakes up she is awake for good.

ideal living space:

alice’s bedroom at home is well-lit and cozy, with an abundance of houseplants in any available spot of sunlight. her walls are filled with things she likes looking at: posters of her favorite bands, watercolor prints she and ellie made, and endless photos of herself and her friends. she usually takes time once a week to clean up, as she has a tendency to drop clothes or books wherever they lay as she moves onto something else.

quirks:

despite being a fan of all things spooky, jump scares always get her good. she’s usually the middle person in the haunted house group, and subsequently is always getting picked on. she will let you borrow anything she owns, but it’s of utmost importance that you ask first.

INTERESTS –

hobbies:

alice has been playing guitar and practicing martial arts since she was very small. her love for plants wasn’t fostered until later in life, but she prides herself on rehabilitating various wilted houseplants she happens upon. she loves a good smoke session and will make a whole event out of some rolling papers and a gram of fresh weed. she’s usually a pretty willing participant in any photoshoots that ellie cooks up.

best school subject:

science has always been a passion of alice’s. she’s a stem student through and through, excelling in maths and sciences from a very young age. through high school she took college level chemistry and biology courses.

worst school subject:

history always presented its challenges, but as alice grew older and her inability to learn much hands on coupled with the fact that most schooling was a little on the white supremacist side of the situation, alice tended to skip these classes as much as possible or spend as long as she could backtalking a teacher just trying to stick to curriculum. 

opinion of education:

alice doesn’t mind school itself-- college classes are perfectly designed to give alice all the free space she needed in a high school curriculum. but her not-so-stellar experience with the allegedly popular social scene made her more than ready to finally be free of high school.

career aspirations / achievements:

a perfect overlap of her loves of science and nature, alice dreams of becoming a bioengineer. she’s well on her way to it, quickly showing aptitude for higher-level stem courses from an early age.

favorite things:

her guitar, family breakfasts, american beauty, ellie & rumi, pop punk music, hand-rolled joints, ghost adventures,  her freshly-made bed, chocolate covered pretzels, restarting the bell jar,  when plants grow new leaves, her led zeppelin shirt ( x ), god of high school

boredom cure:

driving then walking, or just walking, as far as you can in silence, discovering a beautiful spot to watch the sun set, or rise, depending on when the urge strikes.

[kinkykinard]

Never Alone

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  McKirk. Prompt: Never Alone by Jesse Bonanno.  Great song – go and have a listen if you haven’t already!  The timeline of this fic kind of lines up with that of Beyond, but it’s also somewhat of an AU. Word Count: 1212 Warnings: None, mostly fluff, comfort. Rating: All ages. Author’s Note:  This is for Lynda’s ( @trekken81 ) Star Trek Music Challenge!  Check out her blog for other entries!  I was going to title this differently, but as I wrote it I found that the song title just fits the story so perfectly that I couldn’t bring myself to change it.  I’ve also decided not to include italicized lyrics in the body of the fic itself as is common practice with song fics because it wasn’t quite flowing right.

Never Alone Five years in space had sounded like a nightmare from the get go, and one year into the mission things hadn’t improved much. Leonard found himself growing increasingly stir-crazy, even with frequent stop-offs on various planets, and Jim was losing sight of the mission at hand.  All across the ship, people were becoming depressed, unfocused, and sluggish. None of it escaped either man’s notice. The CMO spent every day counselling crew members and prescribing medications to take the edge off.  The captain spent his days making announcements, flashing that pearly-white smile, and encouraging everyone to maintain morale. It was as exhausting as it was imperative to their mission’s success. One night, after a particularly long day, the captain and the doctor were curled up together on the sofa in the captain’s quarters.  Two half-empty tumblers of whiskey sat on the table before them and they were tangled in one another’s arms.  

Jim was particularly troubled.  It was no secret that Bones hated being in space the majority of the time, but Jim had done much to conceal his constantly growing distaste for the vast emptiness of the expanse between galaxies.  He couldn’t keep up the façade anymore, though; he needed an outlet or he was going to break. “Hey, Bones, can we talk?”  He asked, the whiskey fuelling his courage and the conviction that if anyone could help it was his lover. “Sure,” the doctor said lightly, not wanting to sound too eager lest he scare Jim off; he knew that something had been different about the other man recently and he’d been waiting for the right time and place to bring it up.  “What’s on your mind?” Jim hesitated, his eyes unfocused as he stared across the room, his head on Leonard’s shoulder.   “Do you ever wonder why we’re here?”  He asked.  “I mean here, on the Enterprise, in the farthest reaches of the Delta quadrant.” “Because the Admiral said jump and we couldn’t wait to see just how high we could?”  Bones drawled sarcastically, immediately regretting his tone. Jim laughed weakly, and the doctor felt relieved. “I mean,” he started again.  “Do you ever feel lost?  I know Jocelyn left you with nothing back on Earth, but there’s even less up here.  Doesn’t that bother you?” Leonard looked thoughtful for a moment. “My family is here,” he replied.  “You’re what I have now, and as long as you’re here, so am I.” Jim smiled, sighing deeply as Leonard’s fingers ran up his arm, threading themselves into his hair. “It just feels like too much sometimes,” Jim continued.  “Like none of it means anything, and when it feels like that, I just feel so God damn alone up here.” Leonard wasn’t offended.  He knew exactly what Jim was trying to say, and to some degree he agreed.  The darkness and silence of space were so pervasive sometimes that it felt like they were seeping into him, threatening to tear him apart from the inside, but in those moments he just held onto Jim and tried to let his lover’s light be a beacon in the void. “You’re scared,” Bones said lightly; a statement, not a question. Jim laughed again, but the sound was hollow and forced.  Leonard could have sworn he’d heard the beginnings of a sob cloaked in the sound and he pulled away just enough to look into Jim’s haunted blue eyes. “Yeah, I am,” Jim answered.  “I’m terrified, Bones.  Of losing my ship, my crew, and you.  I couldn’t do this alone.” The doctor shifted around, pushing Jim up just enough that he could get himself out from under the captain to be able to see his face better.  Reaching out, he put a hand on Jim’s jawline, brushing the younger man’s cheek with his thumb.  He closed the distance between them, Jim’s shoulder pressing into his chest as Bones’ lips landed on his.  The kiss was soft, endearing, and full of promise.  It was chaste and didn’t last long, but if Jim felt even half of the affection and commitment imbued in the kiss that Bones did, then the doctor had done his job. “I’m not going to tell you not to be scared,” the older man said softly.  “That’s unfair and it’s not realistic; you’ve got every right to be scared, and I’d think there was something wrong with you if you weren’t.  But fear can be a powerful motivator.  It can push you to be better, smarter, faster, and stronger. Some people let it cloud their thinking and take them over, but not you.  Fear drives you, Jim.” The younger man turned the doctor’s words over in his head, scenes from the past few years playing out in his mind in snippets and all at once.  He sighed deeply, shakily considering all of the events he and the crew had lived through. Lots of horrible things had transpired, they’d lost many good men and women, none of them would ever be the same, and he felt like the burden of all of the crew’s sleepless nights and anxious days was on his shoulders. “What about them?”  Jim asked.  “The crew? I feel like I’m failing them.” “Are you kidding me?”  The doctor said gently.  “Every time I patch up an away team, all they can talk about is how you were the glue that held them together planet side.  Any time I pass Chekov in the hallways, he’s singing your praises. It doesn’t take a psychic to see that Sulu trust you implicitly.  Jim, I know you don’t feel confident lately, but it doesn’t show.  Your smile never wavers, your voice is sure, and your command is careful and thoughtful.  You’re the best damn captain Starfleet has.” Jim’s laugh was hollow. “If I feel alone, why shouldn’t all of them?” He sighed. “You’re not alone, Jim,” Bones said firmly, reaching out to take the captain’s face in his hand again, turning the other man’s head so he could meet Jim’s gaze.  “You’re never alone, and neither are they.  Like I said, we’re family.  You’ve got us, and we’ve got you.” Jim was quiet for a long time after that. Bones had let go of the captain’s face and he had begun to think the captain had fallen asleep against him when Jim spoke up again. “Thanks, Bones,” Jim murmured. The doctor smiled, pressing a kiss into the captain’s hair. “That’s what family’s for,” Leonard said softly.