#will prob mostly continue things and wait on starting anything new until things settle down even more???

[ionozoned]

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[felswritingfire]

(Hades) Gods x Shade! Reader

No matter how much you try, mortality will always catch up to those who are not of gods. Even the most blinded of them learn this eventually. You take your death with grace, choosing to go and explore this new world as soon as Lord Hades permits you to go, impressed by how little you complain and demand. You are one of the brighter parts of his day (night?).

You drift along, catching certain snippets of other Shade’s conversations as you wander aimlessly. You notice a crack in the wall; deciding to muster up your courage, you slip through it to find yourself in the glowing green torches of Tartarus. With what little you have, you hold it close to your translucent body and push forward.

You’re quick to notice the large glowing ball with an oddly familiar symbol floating in the middle of it. You take your time circling it, feeling compelled to touch it. When you do, a beam of light comes slicing through the dreary air to reveal a mighty god who stares down at you at your shocked form...

Zues

Cause of Death: Lightning Strike

Zues is confused when he sees you. He’s even more confused when you start screaming at him, waving your hands about and threatening to fight him yourself.

“You fucker! You killed me!”

He raises a brow. “I think I’d remember if I killed you.” You flipped up your middle finger at him and his eyebrows drew into an angry v. “How rude! I am the God of Gods-”

“I don’t care!”

Zagreus had to high tail it to you before Zues tried to smite you (possibly a second time).

Suffice to say you hoped you’d never bump into that boon again. And you didn’t. No, the God of Gods and Lightning himself decided that he’d have to make a house call himself (Hades was not pleased when a bolt of lightning came crashing down and left a scorched black ring in the carpet).

He picks you out quickly and you try to zoom out of the lobby until he catches you by the back of your robe and then you’re swinging and yelling profanities at him. He’s kinda amused now instead of angry- you’re just so weak and tiny compared to him. It’s hysterical- ow! Did you just bite him?

After you and Zues finish your little “spitting match”- Hades kicks Zeus out and you're forced to hang out in Tartarus for a bit (“but I’m just a simple fisherfolk! I can’t fight anything!” You cry, Hades does not spare you a look as you're dragged out by Meg).

You think maybe that’s the end until you’re approached by a… a squirrel? You almost punt it when his voice spills out as he shoots into a long prattle about how much of a jerk Hades was and how he couldn’t handle someone as grandiose as him appearing before him. Threatened him as a god or something- you were busy trying to figure out how you were going to kill this guy and make sure he stayed dead.

Turns out, after the two of you chattered (argued) a bit about whether or not he actually killed you, Zeus had some neat stories about the gods.

While you were interested in his children’s and brothers’ and sisters’ stories, he was interested in your stories of the mundane. A simple fisherfolk? That was a word? You just fished and traded? Amazing! Tell him more!

After this particular interaction between the two of you, Zeus really ended liking you. Maybe a little too much, but, aw well, it wasn’t everyday a mortal soul had the balls to argue with him for something he doesn’t remember doing (he probably did. Probably. Most likely). He swore that he’d come and see you everyday as he sat on your shoulder as a squirrel, going on and on about how you should feel blessed to be praised by one such as he. You were about to throw him until a giant hand came out and grabbed him (seemed you drifted too close to Lord Hades’ desk), the hulking god flinging him out of a portal.

He continues to pop up and bother you and, to be honest, he’s kinda growing on you. Also, I’m gonna be frank and lay it out that, if he likes you enough, he’s probs gonna want to smash, especially if you lean more towards the feminine side (he’s fucking AWFUL). It’s up to you if you wanna indulge that or not, I don’t recommend it, but you can if you really want to.

We’re going with the option you don’t smash- he’ll be salty at you for a whole ass day before he comes back the one after that as a rat (Hades kept finding out his forms that he used to sneak in so it was an ever constant menagerie of appearances to keep up the disguise) and is like: “I thought you would miss me too much so I came back before you could even complain.”

Zag likes to watch the two of you interact because he finds it absolutely fascinating. It’s like watching… He doesn’t know what it’s like but he’s having a blast as you roast his uncle to bits. It really helps him out when he’s feeling a bit down after failing getting out one too many times.

When you first get Zeus an Ambrosia, he thinks it’s poison and then he gets all prideful because of course you would give him an offering, he was the strongest of all the gods! Him and him alone!

“Silly, mortal, you cannot poison me! I am a god.”

You squint your eyes at him before you huff and pull the bottle closer to you. “Fine, whatever, I’ll just give it to Zagreus- or better yet, Hades if you don’t want it.”

“No! No! I want it! Give it to me! It’s mine!”

During this time, he’s actually experiencing some purer emotions in life- he’s genuinely giddy that you got him the Ambrosia and asks how you got it. You hold up a makeshift fishing rod and grin at him, telling him you snatched it from some nasty shades before you wandered back down to Tartarus.

His gift to you is a little lightning pin that, when you're in danger, will send a nasty bolt of lightning down on your enemies. You wonder what good it’ll do since you’re dead already, but shrug and accept it, thinking that he looks years younger and friendler when his smile isn’t packed full of ego and pride.

Poseidon

Cause of Death: Drowning

Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans, Earthquakes, and many other things, is simply- how do you say? Amused? It’s the best way to describe it at least. Of course he was mostly surprised when he appeared expecting the Little Hades to be waiting for him just to meet a Little Shade in his place.

“Why, hello there, Little Shade! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Little Hades is, would you?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t miss the way you nervously play with your hands, drifting back as some of his droplets float close to you.

He laughs at your simple reply. “Shy one aren’t you?” He leans closer to you, squinting and running a hand through his beard while he hummed.

You fight the urge to take a step back, the smell of salt water making your stomach churn.

His eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment before he opens his eyes again and a look of understanding flashes across his eyes. “You drowned. Didn’t you?”

You stare up at him, eyes round and glassy. You nod.

Before your conversation can go any further, Zagreus comes running through the window, surprised to see his Uncle talking to a Shade (you look so scared- he hopes that you aren’t being bullied). You’re quick to take your leave bowing to both and passing the boon to the Prince before you scurry away into the cover of the other Shades.

He hums to himself, a cryptid smile on his face as his eyes follow after you. Such a strange little thing you were- he wouldn’t mind seeing you again.

It takes a bit, but he does happen to see you again, by peaking through a fountain in a fountain room in the Underworld. He spies you trying to poke at the water that he happened to choose, but jumping back each time. You face scrunched up into one of pure frustration. He asks if you’re doing alright there, Little Shade? Causing you to flash out of existence for a moment before settling back down and looking into the pool with wide eyes. Posiedon almost busts a gut with how hard he’s laughing and you huff telling him that it wasn’t funny.

He says otherwise, but asks what you’re doing. When your face bursts into a large blush you mumble something that he doesn’t quite catch and he’s left with more questions than answers as you take the chance to phase out of the chamber when Zag walks in and steals his Uncle’s attention for a split second. He furrows his brow before asking his nephew about you, which Zag, surprisingly, supplies rather quickly, seeing as the two of you talk a lot: apparently you’re deathly afraid of water after you were thrown into the ocean by your supposed best friend. The memories of the waves crushing you deeper and deeper beneath them sticking with you even in death. So, you were trying to curb that phobia. Posiedon nods, letting the words sink in before he offers the Little Hades a thumbs up and says he’ll help with that.

The next time you see the god, he’s eager to call you over and explain that he’s figured out what you were doing last time and offers to let you mess with some of the drops of water that follow him wherever he goes. You stare at them, eyebrows furrowed and looking just as sick as a shade could look. Yet, you still nod your head and hold out a shaky hand. He smiles at you, praising you for your courage and flicks one towards you; it floats gently before it rests serenely on your palm, allowing you to feel the cool sensation of the droplet. You marvel at it, still shaking with an anxiety before you nod. He pulls it away, it shoots back to rest next to his head and you thank him for going out of his way to help you and ease your fears.

He remarks that you should fear the water out of respect: it’s unpredictable, terrifying in it’s own right- vast and, seemingly, never ending, what could possibly be more terrifying than the unknown, hm? He continues to say that you should also hold onto a bit of bravery at the very least, for untold treasures come from there for those who look.

After that conversation, Poseidon makes it a habit of having you hold onto his droplets of water, making them slightly bigger each time for you to get used to them.

By the time you’re able to touch them freely without experiencing crippling fear- the droplets are almost the size of you. Poseidon praises you the more you grow out of your fear.

You do eventually open up to him about how you died and he never tells you that he already knew. Just allows you to talk in a soft voice as you recall it. It’s a nice bonding experience for the both of you and Posideon decides that you’re his favorite Shade and he’ll treasure you for as long as you exist.

The first time you get him a bottle of Ambrosia, you come to him shivering and sopping wet. He’s confused and concerned as he hovers to you.

“What happened to you, Little Shade? Are you alright?”

It takes you a moment to be able to speak. “I- I found a bottle of Ambrosia. I thought-” you take a deep breath, holding out the bottle with both hands- “I thought you’d like it.”

It’s one of his prized possessions now, he takes little sips of it once in a while, but other than that it remains as one of his most precious memories. He’s very attached to you at this point and you’ll forever have his blessing. His gift to you, aside from the undying loyalty, is a shell necklace, if you ever need him- you only need to whisper his name to it and he’ll appear in an instant.

Athena

Cause of Death: Exhaustion

Athena had been prepared to meet with Zagreus- not a curious shade staring back up at her with all the relevance of one of her worshippers.

“What business do you have with me?”

She raises her brow at your gobsmacked expression, watching as you screw your face up before bowing. “Apologies, m’lady, I only happened to bump into your…” you look at where it glows, furrowing your eyebrow, “your orb?”

“Boon.”

You nod your head in understanding before bowing your head again. “Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Luckily, she didn’t smite you, instead asking the question of how you were even talking to her. Getting a shrug from you, you say that maybe it’s because you worshipped her (unofficially, you were never able to make it up to her shrine much to your disappointment) when you were alive- maybe a deeper bond is there compared to someone who had never prayed to her for her protection and guidance.

When she hears this, she’s very interested, pressing you to elaborate further when the Young Prince comes jogging out of the glowing window, waving to you. You slink away, passing the boon to him and bowing to her once again before you disappear into the mass of Shades that choose to wander their new home as well.

After the conversation, you had caught the Goddess’ attention, planting a desire in her to see you again. Even going as far as to write a letter to ask her uncle for a council with you after a week passed of her placing her boon in Tartarus so that maybe you would drift too close to it once again. But each time only the little prince would find them (which she was fine with, but it still left such an unflattering taste of defeat on her tongue each time it wasn’t you). She figured it would be a moot point to send the letter, but it was worth a try.

But she decided to place her boon down once more before she sent it out. Just to try. And this time it worked.

You were the one she saw and she was absolutely delighted- not that she showed it, choosing to keep her stoic and sharp expression. You greet her in a similar way before: awed before bowing your head to her. You continue to go on about how you're happy to see her again and, despite how little you had been buried with, you hoped that she would take this- a broken sword, despite the worn hilt and the deep scars the littered what was left of the flat of the balde; it was still polished (at least what was left of it)- as a proper offering to her for all she had done in your life- even if it truly wasn’t all her doings.

She takes the sword in her hand, holding it high, her eyes shining as she studies it: truly, it was a warrior’s blade. She watches as the history and memories flash in the smooth iron. She remarks that it is a remarkable offering, but she cannot accept it. It feels wrong taking a weapon of a warrior such as yourself.

You smile as her, shaking your head, urging her to take it, for you didn’t need that blade in this afterlife. You had already fought your battles, killing the man who you had been battling with and quelling the rage that had followed you since you were a child for revenge. Eventually, dying from the strain of the fight with a feeling of contentedness.

Athena raises her brow, remarking how that sounded more along the lines of Ares rather than her.

You nod, but say that you couldn’t help but desire her help for she was the goddess attached to your favorite animal. She had to fight the urge to laugh, a shaky smile slipping through as she nods at you. Such a silly thing you are. She decides that she’ll take the sword as a reminder of you, no matter where you should go now. She also decides that you were forming a rather soft cradle in her heart.

After this, she is quick to ask Zagreus about you every chance she gets- not that he minds too much, he tells her about how you’ve been helping him train and you’ve even told him about your life when you were alive (“a general, can you believe that? They’re so young!” Zagreus says as he shows her the new move you taught him). She’s only the slightest bit miffed at hearing that you and Achilles have begun to form a sweet friendship. She’s pleased to hear that his father has been trying to barter with you to get you into Elysium, though she’s a tad confused on the reason you refuse to.

She asks you about it one day and you say that it would take longer to see her and you would prefer to avoid that. It was the only time the goddess has ever had to fight down a blush.

When you get her a bottle of Ambrosia, she’s in pure awe at the huge bottle.

“How did you get one this big?”

You lean against the new sword you managed to get your hands on- something simple and obviously used- you offer her a lopsided grin. “Well, not just any Ambrosia would work, so I decided to try my luck with Lord Theseus and, The Great Bull, Asterius. Took me a couple of tries but I managed to beat them and snag it.”

Athena smiles warmly at it, telling you that she’ll treasure it and think of you every time she takes a drink of it. She realizes in that moment just how important you had become to her, never feeling this… soft for a mortal soul in her life. Her gift to you is a shield and a new sword: the shield bares her symbol of an owl while the sword was ornate with a divine glow. She promises that no matter what they’ll protect you and so will she, you only need to call out her name.

Aphrodite

Cause of Death: A Broken Heart

When the Goddess of Love first sees you- she thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous (of course not as gorgeous as her). The sad look in your eye and the slight frown that rests on your lips makes her almost fall in love right then and there.

“Hello, little one- do you know where the little godling is?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I know not where he is.”

She raises her brows, a smile on her face. “How did you know I was Aphrodite, my dear?”

You look up at her, a sudden glint in your eyes has her yearning to see it once again. “No one else could be so breathtaking, my Lady.”

Oh. Oh, she likes you.

She chooses to chatter away with you- despite you mostly listening, adding little things here and there, she feels a strange sense of fullness, like she just ate a full and warm meal for the first time in a very long time, by the time Zagreus arrives. You bid your farewell and she can’t help but follow you with her gaze as your transparent form blends in with the other Shades.

Aphrodite is thrilled the next time she runs into you- or rather you run into her boon. She missed the melancholy look in your eyes, she also doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve come bearing gifts this time: an assortment of colorful flowers rests in your arms and you offer it to her. That glint coming and going like a shooting star as she accepts the offering, holding it up to her nose to take in their sweet scent. How sweet were you to hand her something so delicate.

She asks you where you got them and you remark that you made your way up to Elysium. She’s surprised to hear as such- you didn’t seem like the warrior type. You shake your head, your eyes sweeping low. You weren’t a warrior, far from it- a simple florist if anything. You just drifted until you made it up there and plucked some flowers to make bouquets. You mumble that maybe you’ll be more useful in death.

She tilts her head at the comment, beginning to ask until Zagreus is jogging up to the both of you and it was time for you to leave. She’s a tad annoyed, but reminds herself that the little godling didn’t know- simply trying to break out of this dreary place he calls home and see Olympus in all its glory. She’ll just ask next time.

You gave her another bouquet, this one more beautiful than the last, when she gets the chance to ask you her question. Your eyes pool with a mournful look as you gaze up at her, your hand resting over the place where your heart used to beat as you look to the ground. You explain that you were young when you were wed- just as you were young when you died. You were married off to someone you did not love- someone awful, vile, who beat you down daily just to build you back up so they could laugh when they toppled you over once again. You remark about how you could feel yourself dying little by little, your delicate heart bleeding as your want for life began to dwindle away. You grew sick and you would sit by the window day in and day out, staring out and wondering what your life could have been if you were married to someone you loved. A ghost of a smile blooms on your lips as you look up at her, that glint she oh-so loved twinkling in your eye as you say that you did not die in as much loneliness and pain as you could have; having been making a bouquet dedicated just to her love and sweetness: your Lady Aphrodite who you love, ever so much.

She’s shocked when she realizes the tears that drip down her cheeks, her hand coming to caress your cheek (really your head, she was hulking compared to your small form) with her fingertips. She comments that she would accept every bouquet you made and treasure each flower like it was the one you made for her with your last breaths in the living world.

After that interaction, she comes down a lot more, asking Zagreus if he could bring along her darling florist so that she could talk to you. He always obliges, loving to see the two of you chatter about (well, her chatter about, you usually just listened with a smile on your face as you used the flowers you had plucked into flower crowns for him and Lady Aphrodite). You two become a sort of comfort for him when he’s getting frustrated: seeing your usually melancholy demeanor light up as soon as the goddess appears and in turn the goddess becomes something less vain and more gentle as she speaks to you.

At some point, you’ll probably meet Ares himself- the two never that far from each other, also she adores you, so it only makes sense for you to meet him. He’s honestly a tad unimpressed when you first meet, but when he hears about the heart ache you faced he gains a sense of respect for you, remarking that love is a battle in and of itself and you fought valiantly to keep your ability to love freely (Aphrodite might convince you to have a threesome, I’m not gonna lie, she’s attracted to you on a deep level and she has her trysts with Ares- it’s perfect in her eyes. Though she won’t push you if you don’t desire it).

When you first get her Ambrosia, she’s flabbergasted before it turns into worry for how you got it and the potential danger you were in.

She takes the bottle of gold liquid and the flowers that you had so carefully arranged. Her attention, though, is focused on the said bottle of Ambrosia. “My Darling Florist, how did you get this?” Before you can answer she shoots into a flurry of questions. “Are you alright? Did anything catch you? Hurt you? You don’t seem hurt. Oooh-” she puffs her cheeks out, her gaze sharp- “why did you get me this? It’s dangerous!”

You wait for her to calm down. “I apologize for making you worry, but I simply snuck around and grabbed it from some witches- they didn’t even notice me. And I-” you tap your fingers together, a blush blooming across your face as you look away from the goddess and she decides that she craves seeing that expression on you again- “I thought that you deserved it. It’s a much better offering than my silly bouquets.”

Well, aside from the ‘silly bouquets’ comment (which she corrects you on very quickly), she’s absolutely flattered and it might be the final nail in the coffin that has her falling for you, the little shade in front of her. She decides that you hold a piece of her heart in your translucent hands, though she chooses to keep that information to herself.

Her gift to you is a hairpin that matches hers, though if you don’t have enough hair- she says, you can always pin it to your robe. It’s a blatant claim on her part, but it also helps ease the residual heartache that followed you into death. And, hopefully (a personal hope of her), each time you look at it, you’d fall deeper and deeper in love with her as well.

Artemis

Cause of Death: Arrow to the Heart

She’s confused when she sees you, quick to voice her confusion as well. Also depending on if you're more feminine or masculine (and I don’t mean woman or man, I just mean how you present yourself), she will treat you differently depending. So, for now, we’re gonna go with the more “feminine” option:

“Who’re you?”

You bow. “An honor to meet you, Lady Artemis, I seem to have bumped into that orb on accident. Wasn’t sure what it did and the curiosity got the better of me.”

She hums, she perks when she notices your bow. “You’re a hunter?”

You smile, holding it out to her. “Yes, indeed, my Lady- I prayed to you a lot.” You laughed, adding. “Hoped to join your hunters when I was young.”

She’s quite happy to hear that and begins to chatter along with you. For some reason feeling oddly at ease around you. It’s probably because you were a fellow hunter but she simply can’t help the way she grows an odd sort of… adoration? Something like that, she thinks- for you. She almost laments the fact when Zagreus comes to get the boon.

You nod to him, biding your farewell to the Goddess and passing the boon to the Prince. She doesn’t miss how Zagreus’ eyes shine as you walk away. She almost comments on it but bites her tongue, wanting to observe the prince and the dreamy look that drifts over his features, even as you disappear.

The next time the two of you meet, she asks if she can see you in action. You agree and search up ahead to find something to demonstrate your skills on. You’re quick to find a few Numbskulls. She watches as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing on your unassuming targets and your footsteps become silent as you skirt closer to them. You nock an arrow, never looking away. Her eyes gleam with thrumming adrenaline at the way the muscles in your arms tense as you draw the string back. The low groan of the wood barely above a whisper as you wait for them to line up. You hold your breath, releasing the arrow- it goes through all three of them, making them break into dust in a consecutive line, a harrowing scream being wretched from them as they fade from existence. You release the breath you were holding and stand, sending a smile to the young goddess whose eyes shine with stars.

She praises you for your amazing skill and sings of your prowess. You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you argued that you were but a simple bow folk in your living life. Nothing more, nothing less.

She begs to differ! That type of skill only belongs to those of her highest ranking huntresses! She continues to gush about you until Zag comes up and, once again, greets the both of you. That dreamy look coming over his face as he looks at you. She watches as you once again disappear into Tartarus, this time though, after you’re gone, she turns to her cousin and shoots into a tangent about why he had never told her about you before and where did you come from? She has to know!

He answers all of her questions to the best of his abilities but there are even some he doesn’t know about, for example: how you died.

Artemis accepts this and decides that she’ll just ask you the next time the two of you meet.

And, true to her word, she does. She asks you point blank and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback. You laugh softly, leaning on your bow as you begin to recount that you were traversing her forest, as you had done many times before, and noticed fresh foot prints of man. You decided that it would be a good idea to look and you found hunters trying to kill her Golden Stag. You had dove in as quickly as you could, shooting one- the arrow sailing in a clean arch through his wrist before he could let loose his arrow. But as you went to nock another arrow- a searing pain in your chest and heart. You looked down to see blood pooling around your robes, dying the olive green of your cloak a wine red. You remember the last thing you saw was the Golden Stag running away. You smiled telling her that you were happy he got away- you don’t know what you’d do if he had been captured despite your effort.

Artemis suddenly remembers that day: her stag rushing to her and urging her to follow him- he bounded through the forest, frantic and panicked. When they got to a clearing, she was quick to notice the blood and the drag marks of a body. Her stag pressed his nose to the ground sniffing at the pool of blood, his eyes watering and bulbous tears slid down his muzzle. It suddenly made sense. You were the one he was mourning for.

She couldn’t help but grab your hands, resting her forehead against the back of them; thanking you for protecting her stag when she couldn’t. You smile at her, bowing your head to her and thanking her for the countless hunts she went on with you. You pull your hands away from her and hold out your bow to her. She asks what you think you're doing in a watery voice and you say it’s an offering. You couldn’t give much when you were alive and you still can’t give much now, but, this bow- it shall treat her right.

She sniffles as she takes it, trying to hold in tears. She vows to treasure it for all of time as she admires the worn wood.

That day, the two of you became closer as comrades, she would actively come down to say hi to you (and encourage Zagreus to take the leap and court you after she learned of his growing affections for you). The two of you would talk about everything you could think of, explaining how your hunting styles differed or how you could set a trap easier. She had realized that she had never felt this carefree with anyone before. She felt like a child. It felt nice.

When you snag her a bottle of Ambrosia- she’s swaddled in a whirlwind of emotions.

“You… You got this for me?” She asks as she takes the bottle of golden liquid.

You nod, that gentle smiling spreading across your face. “Of course. You had helped me so many times- it is only fair, my Lady-”

“Artemis-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles- “call me Artemis, my friend.”

She finds you to be a perfect friend- a breath of fresh air from home. She may not feel any romantic feelings towards you, but she still holds you in a dear place in her heart. Her gift to you is a new bow and quiver that will never run out of arrows. The bow is enchanted and you’ll never have to fear it breaking for it will protect you for as long as you exist- in this realm or another.

Ares

Cause of Death: Blood Loss

When Ares first sees you, he is… well- he’s impressed that you stumbled upon his boon, but at the same time… He’s a tad miffed? That you found it?

At the very least he’s condescending as all hell about it:

“What is this? A little lamb came to beg me for power? How foolish. No matter how hard you struggle you will never be much more than some little shade.”

“Ah, sorry, my Lord! Didn’t mean to bump into it!” You hold up the basket in your translucent arms, “I wanted to see if I could find some new ingredients to bake with! I do oh-so miss it, sir.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

He ends up allowing you to chatter on with him despite his obvious judgement on your, what he calls, “soft mortal hobby” until Zagreus comes to do his daily try of breaking out from the Underworld.

As he watches you drift away (after passing the boon and giving words of good luck to the Prince, who happily takes it), he kinda hopes to see you again

And see you again he does! He literally sees you the next day- night? Whatever, he’s never sure when he drops a boon in there- it’s damn dark-

He’s presented with a basket of treats and your gleeful greeting as you chatter that you found ingredients to make some Baklava and you thought that, maybe, he’d like to try it?

He smiles- cruel and sharp- and asks if you truly think that this is a fit offering for a god such as himself?

You shrug, saying he doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to

He laughs and takes it and you two are off chattering again: him regaling you with his war stories and you of the ingredients you had (somehow) found down here until Zag shows up, once again, the boon is passed to him (this time along with a slice of the delicious, warm Baklava. Which, he’s confused on what it is but he finds out very quickly that it’s his favorite treat).

The two of you talk a lot, which Ares is pleasantly surprised about, usually he’s the scorn of everyone- not that he cares, it causes conflict and he likes that. But you’re so calm and sweet that he just can’t get a rise out of you. Which, on one hand, pisses him off to no end, but, on the other, it’s such a nice change of pace for him. He’s used to the bloodshed and animosity of battlefields- the iron tinged air that follows after the warriors that traverse those fields. And yet, here you are: a shade that always has a treat for him when you run into him and the smell of warm sweetness wafting after you.

So when he learned exactly how you died- he was absolutely floored.

“How did you die, little baker?” He asked one day, fiddling with his knife, tilting it discreetly so that your reflection was in it.

“Oh!” You smiled sheepishly, glancing away from him and placing the bag of flour (how did you even get that? He’d have to ask you next) back into your basket. “Well- you see, I bled out.”

He raised his eyebrow, suddenly very interested. “How? You’re so…” he tilted his head and flipped his knife so that the blade pointed at him and the hilt pointed at you, he poked your arm with said hilt. “Soft.”

“Well…”

You explain that you had a little brother who had a nasty habit of getting into trouble- he was a good person, just made foolish choices- and this time, it had cost you your life. He had pissed off the wrong person and, well, when the man had attempted to grab your brother when the two of you were out walking the stalls on your break- you did the only thing you could think of: you fought.

Of course it went horribly, you’ve never been in a fight before then and, despite all the work you did with dough, it didn’t help much when the man pulled out a knife and dug it straight into your gut. But, you don’t mind too much- your brother’s alive and well and, from what you understand from asking Lord Hades, he had started to be more aware of himself and who he angered. Which made you super happy and proud of him!

Ares can’t help but feel some sort of pity for you. So much life to be taken so quickly and placed in- wait. Why weren’t you in Elysium?

You’re incredibly confused when Ares suddenly disappears (Aphrodite appearing in his place in the blink of an eye- she greets you happily and asks if you have any of Baklava to share today. You do not but you do have some Loukoumades if she wanted some. She did). You’re even more confused when the Underworld shakes and angry yelling fills the entirety of it for a solid ten minutes before all goes back to normal.

You tell Ares about it the next day and he simply hums. Keeping it to himself that he made a whole scene about you not being in Elysium by popping up and butting heads with Hades, of course he got kicked out. That still doesn’t stop him from sending angry letters that can span anywhere from one word letters (usually containing a curse word) to a 30 page essay on why you should be in Elysium instead of milling about in such unkempt places.

The first time you go out of your way to get him a bottle of Ambrosia is the day that both scares the shit out of him and makes him hate you for giving him mushy feelings.

You came to him in, almost literal, tatters: your greenish, transparent form ripped in places, the few wisps of you following after your torn form like they were tied to a string. You had held it up to him in a basket, a plate of Baklava sitting next to it, along with some other treats. “Lady Aphrodite mentioned that she wanted to try my Baklava, so I made her some! Though the Ambrosia is just for you, my Lord!”

He blinked at you, taking the basket in a delicate hold. He turned it this way and that, his chest feeling… warm? He wanted to grimace at the soft warmth that thrummed through his veins, yet it was replaced with a smile as he held up the gold liquid. “Thank you, little Baker.”

It was the first time he felt something so unexplainably soft: so gentle and warm as it settled somewhere between the bottom of his ribcage and the top of his stomach. He listened as you told him how you had gotten it: with Zagreus’ help (you even got to meet Lord Hermes! It was so amazing! He had scoffed at that) he led you to a room with Ambrosia as the prize and, despite the young prince’s worry, you managed to beat the monsters and collect it, mostly, by yourself.

Ares was so flattered, but he couldn’t help the way that your tattered form made him feel a sort of worry. He waved his hands through the wisps of your body before he snapped his fingers and a small blade appeared: a beautifully constructed blade that was an exact replica of his (albeit much, much smaller). He handed it to you, telling you that you should have a proper weapon if you’re going to go out of your way to fight in his name.

Dionysus

Cause of Death: Alcohol Poisoning

Dionysus, unlike many, is incredibly excited to see you sitting there. He adores mortal souls and can’t help but look at them each time Zag chooses his boons and he has the chance to glimpse at their souls (despite his tendency to let them go completely after they die- he can’t help but wonder about them once in a while).

“Why, hello there! What’s a little thing like you doing strolling up to my boon, hm?”

He can’t help but notice the way your eyes are a tad dull, but he writes that off as the dark of Tartarus since it’s gone as fast as he noticed it. You smile up at him, absolutely beaming at the God of drink and madness. “Hello, Lord Dionysus!”

“Oho, you could tell it was me? What gave it away?”

The two of you laugh, diving into a conversation. He offers you a cup of wine and is put off with how long it takes you to decline it. He almost thought you looked absolutely ravenous as you peered into the deep red liquid. He shrugs it off and continues to chatter with you until his favorite Zagman stumbles upon the two of you. He’s quick to say hi to you and even leans down to ask you… something. Dionysus misses it, but still watches the way you stiffly nod before you pass the boon to the prince and scurry off.

He’s tempted to ask about it, but decides that he should probably ask you himself instead of trying to pry. Mortals didn’t take well to people snooping around their private lives, which he could respect.

The next time he sees you though, he relaxes you into a sort of peaceful lull as he chats with you before he drops the question.

You stare blankly at him, that dark look in your eye coming back and making his skin crawl. You suddenly laugh it off waving your hands as you tell him that a god shouldn’t worry about a little ol’ shade like you.

He doesn’t push for an answer but the question still swirls in his mind, even as you toddle off after his Zagman pops up. He decides that he’ll actually ask the Prince this time around.

He asks him point blank and Zag, despite him being hesitant at first, decides to spill how you died. You had been the black sheep of your family, never truly fitting into the carefully set path that they wanted you to follow- so you found solace in drinking from a young age. It had taken the edge off of everything, Zagreus recounted you telling him. It filled you with a warmth you had been missing all your life and you couldn’t help but indulge more and more in it until it slowly became your own personal poison. Dionysus grimaced, for once feeling a sort of queasiness in the pit of his stomach as Zagreus continued on with your story. So, one day, you had drunk yourself into a deep stupor after an awful argument with your parents. But, this time, you never woke up. Instead you woke up floating in the river of blood- the River of Styx.

Dionysus had nodded after the Prince finished the story, playing with the goblet in his hand and swirling the red wine that resides in it. He offers a bitter smile to Zag and bids his farewell (of course leaving a boon of his choice with the lad) popping off back to Olympus.

The next time he runs into you, he asks if you’re feeling alright- if you want to talk. You blink at him, confused at first until realization dawns you. You bite your lip, looking down. He’s quick to assure you that you didn’t have to talk about anything- you two could just have a good time like always. You tell him that you’d like that, not yet ready to face your past. He nods, immediately telling you about an embarrassing story about Ares and how much of a lightweight he was which had you letting out an ugly snort along with your loud cackles.

The god begins to take it upon himself to have you smiling more and maybe remedy those dark clouds that appear in your eyes once in a while. He’s pretty observant despite being piss drunk half the time, it also helps that he’s very intune to your emotions for some odd reason, so he’s quick to pick up on when you feel down or your having something the equivalent to a relapse. He has you drink just a little bit from his goblet since it’s better than quitting cold turkey. And that little bit is always enough to quench your thirst and calm you down. You’ve been needing less and less of it as the days (nights?) pass by.

The first time you get Dionysus Ambrosia is the same day that he almost swears that he’ll marry you. He’s quick to grow emotional with the sheer fact that you went out of your way to get something so special for him, his face almost splitting with how wide of a smile he has on his face.

“You got this for me, man?” He says, holding up the bottle in his hand and inspecting it like it’s a precious jewel. “You know this stuff is hard to come by, super hard.”

You nod, the clouds far from your eyes now. “I had to thank you some way and punching a couple of Shades to get my hands on that was worth it.”

“You punched people for me?”

“Of course.”

He fights the urge to squeal and pops the top off, summoning another cup and pouring some in it. “Here’s to us!” He says as he hands you the cup.

He’s honestly never had so much fun just existing with one person. After that he’s never far from you, one usually not seen without the other around- even despite the Underworld not being Dionysus’ favorite place, he can’t help but be willing to venture down there to see you in person (he’s been trying to convince his wonderful Uncle Hades to let you come up with him to Olympus for a little bit- he’s even got his dad and (other) Uncle in on it. Hades officially hates all of them). His gift to you is a matching goblet that will supply you any beverage of your choice. It also has the double power to protect you from all that wishes to harm you, but you’ll learn that in due time. It’ll be more fun that way, Dionysus muses.

Hermes

Cause of Death: Falling

Usually, Heremes wouldn’t have taken the time of day to chatter mindlessly with a shade. But, it was a different story when that shade summoned him through bumping into his boon- now it’s just interesting!

“Eh? Who’re you? It’s kinda strange for a shade to be here and not my Cos, huh? Did something happen to him? You his stand in or something? That’d be kinda funny because you don’t seem like his stand in- not buff enough or something like that.”

You blink slowly taking in the words of his mile a minute speech as he continues to prattle on. You take a seat in front of the quick mouthed god, getting yourself comfortable as he flutters about and chatters. Not like you minded- he filled in the places where you couldn’t with steady conversation. You nod to some of the quips he makes, just to show you were still listening.

He decides then and there that he likes you a lot and that you should meet Charon. As soon as Zagreus pops up to collect the boon- he grabs the back of your robes and goes zooming off with you in tow. You wave to the panicked prince, allowing yourself to be dragged around. He continues to chatter on and on, only taking a break when he reaches the Boatman (who was not expecting a Shade to be accompanying the God of Messengers). He sets you down, tries to introduce you two to each other- realizes he doesn’t know your name, so you end up telling them your name- and then is quick to say goodbye, after he gives a scroll to Charon, and shoots off.

You end up staying with Charon after learning a bit more about the quiet boatman and Hermes is quite pleased when he realizes that he’d be seeing you around a lot more. He’s quick to flutter about you and chatter for a few quick seconds before zipping off. You wave at him.

The process repeats for a while before he finally takes a moment to really sit with you, Charon having gone to pick up more souls and lead them down the River of Styx. He chatters on aimlessly, asking little questions here and there before he decides to ask the million dollar question: “How did you die?”

You blink slowly as him before murmuring that you fell from a very high place, you head cracking open on the rocks at the bottom and now here you are. He asks why you were messing about on a high place, as that seemed to be something most mortals avoided doing. You explained that there was a kitten stuck in an old root on the ledge and you couldn’t just leave her. So, you crawled onto the branch and put her back onto safe ground, but the root gave way and then you went tumbling to your doom.

Hermes is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange until you reach the end and he says: “you’re a real bleeding heart under all that quiet, huh?” You nod solemnly and he laughs, pulling you into a side hug. How could something with such a fleeting life be so selfless with it? He squeezes you harder before he stands up and bids you farwell, shooting off once again. And, again, you wave as he goes.

He grows attached to you quickly afterwards, bringing you little things that might help make you more comfortable down in the Underworld. Of course Charon is there to keep you company which he’s happy about- and he voices that exact thought to the boatman, who just grumbles out a long: uuuuaagghhh as his reply. He pats his arm and says that he knew he’d get it.

When you manage to get your hands on a bottle of Ambrosia- he’s completely blind sided that he almost trips on his own feet. His face flushing a deep red as he takes the offered bottle.

“How’d- how’d you get this?” His speech is all jumbled and jumpy, though he tries to keep the giddy excitement bubbling in his stomach as bay.

“I saved up my coin,” you said, nodding to Charon who nods back. “And bought it from Charon. I would’ve fought for it, but I’m no warrior.”

A smile splits across his face and the wings on the side of his head flutter. He’s quick to scoop you up and hug you, floating up with you as he does.

Hermes is an absolute giddy mess with your offering, not sure if he should kiss you or simply remain holding you. He had a special place for you before but this just solidifies his adoration for you. His gift to you is a pair of boots with wings on the side of them- an exact replica of his (in your size! Somehow-). He promises that they’ll help you get anywhere you want quickly, also the two of you match! How cute is that?

[bisectionalbisexual]

Born to Hate, Made to Love

(Human AU)

Word count: 2,163

Pairings: Royality

TW: Angst, self-deprecating thoughts, body issues, food mention. (Let me know if I should add any!) 

Summary: Patton is a plus sized man who likes to dress more on the feminine side. He’s always been fascinated with cute sweaters and pastel colors, so when his new boyfriend Roman wants to take him clothes shopping, you’d think he’d be excited, right? Sadly that isn’t the case a Patton tries to cope with his body issues while struggling to keep it together in front of his newly found love.

~~~

“Be ready at five, K? We’ll grab dinner from the Food Court then go shopping!” Roman’s voice sang happily from Patton’s cell phone.

While Roman was excited, Patton was nervously fiddling with the hem of his old worn out shirt.

“Um, yeah,” he tried to match his boyfriend's enthusiasm, “yeah I’ll be ready. See you then.”

Patton hung up and shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, sighing as he sat on his couch. He had no idea how this evening was going to turn out, but all he could feel was his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of trying on his eccentric choices of clothing in front of his boyfriend Roman.

They had been dating for almost three months now, but every time Patton was with him it felt like their very first date. He was in constant fear of how Roman would react if he wore something that showed off his true silhouette, so instead, he opted for wearing baggy hoodies and loose pants whenever he saw his boyfriend. He couldn't risk Roman becoming disgusted once he saw Patton's body, grimacing when they hugged or even refusing to be near him.

In every relationship Patton has been in, he’s always been afraid that every single one of them has only settled for his body, never loved him for how he was.

“He has a great personality!”

“He’s not that big…”

“He’ll break you with how fat he is.”

Oh god, it was all too much, why was just a simple shopping date making him so worked up? 

“Maybe I should just cancel,” he thought out loud reaching for his phone.

Just as he opened his messages a text popped up from Roman.

‘Don’t forget your favorite headband! We’ll find something to match ;) <3’

Patton couldn’t help but smile after reading the light-hearted message. After a moment of thought, he felt the confidence he needed to go through with this date. With a tiny squeal of excitement, he hopped up from his couch to get dressed.

His wardrobe wasn’t as extensive as most people, but a few years back he was lucky enough to find some nice outfits to save for special occasions. This time Patton decided on some plain khakis and a teal sweatshirt with sparkly pink lettering saying “I believe in Mermaids” with a seashell border around the message. He ruffled his caramel curls a bit before sticking in a pink headband that had cat ears covered in glitter.

Patton smiled to himself in the mirror and gave a twirl, and just as he was feeling good about himself he heard knocking at his door.

“Must be five!” He exclaimed to himself as he ran to answer it, and there he was.

Roman, sweet handsome Roman stood in the doorway shamelessly wearing blue skinny jeans and a white tank top that delicately hugged his chiseled figure from under his red letterman jacket.

How was it that Patton got a man almost the complete opposite of him?

“Ready to go, Pattie Cake?” Roman greeted with a charming smile, extending his hand for Patton.

Patton gladly held onto his hand as he was led out of the apartment building with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

~~~

The drive to the mall was mostly silent as they both listened to the music booming from Roman’s sound system. Patton sat back comfortably watching out the window, that was until he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Suddenly, his posture straightened, sitting up with his head tilted slightly to try and get rid of his double chin. He felt the back of his neck heat up as he began worrying about every tiny detail of himself. At least he was until Roman rested his hand on Patton’s thigh.

“You excited?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove.

Patton smiled to him and adjusted his glasses, “of course! I’m with you, Silly.”

“Aw,” Roman blushed, “you’re too sweet.” For a moment Roman took his focus away from driving so he could lean over giving Patton a quick peck on the cheek before turning his attention back to the road.

Patton giggled softly touching his flushed face with his sleeve, every bit of fear melting away with Roman’s simple little acts of affection.

~~~

Before the two of them knew it, they were at the mall wandering around the food court.

“What do you want, babe?” Roman asked pulling Patton closer to intertwine their fingers.

“I um- I’m not sure,” Patton chuckled breathlessly, “you pick.”

“Nope, your day, your choice,” Roman stated simply with a small shrug making Patton roll his eyes.

He had no idea what to pick, there were some food places that were exclusive to the Food Court, but then again there were some of Patton’s favorite shops there too. He hated being put on the spot like this, why did Roman have to be such a gentleman?!

“Hmm, are you okay with Subway?”

“Whatever you want,” Roman winked and pulled Patton into the line of people.

They ordered their food and sat down together once it was ready, each of them taking time to eat a little before sparking up a conversation.

“So…” Patton began, “where would you like to shop?”

Roman pondered the question for a moment as he took a sip of his Sprite.

“Hmm, well, I was thinking about Hot Topic. Looking past all the edgy stuff, I think there are some cute things in there you would like.”

Patton nodded with a small smile and once they were finished with their food Roman dragged Patton along by his hand.

They entered the store to be met with an intimidating but friendly enough worker folding shirts at the check-out counter. His plum colored bangs falling in his face on occasion, but he paused seeing the two enter and brushed them away.

“Hi there, how may I-” He was going to continue his regular “customer service” monologue, that was until he recognized the pair, “Roman? Pat?”

“Woah, Virgil?” Roman gasped and rushed up to the worker, “you work here?”

Virgil shrugged lightly and continued to fold shirts, “just my summer job for now. What can I do for you guys?”

“Well, Roman decided to take me clothes shopping today,” Patton said while he turned his head to look around the store.

Virgil inspected Patton, ultimately making him tense under his gaze as he worried the look was judgemental. Instead, Virgil nodded and pointed to the display in the corner of the store.

“To avoid all the angst, cute stuff is in the back.”

This made Patton giggle, “thanks, Virge.”

“No prob, Bob.”

“... It’s Patton.”

They all chuckled and Roman gave a wave as he led Patton to the colorful display. There were clothes, jewelry, headbands, and other such artifacts ranging from colorful Disney Princesses to dark DC Comics characters. It was obvious that Patton looked to the more light-hearted of the items, flipping through bracelets and necklaces that would catch his interest. 

Roman, however, was going through shirts that he thought Patton might like, and after a couple of minutes, he slapped a stack of different clothes into Patton’s arms.

“Here, go try these on.”

Before Patton could interject he was shoved over towards the dressing room and nearly placed inside while Roman waited outside the door.

Patton went through the clothes finding all of them quite cute, so he picked out his favorites and started trying them on.

First was a Lilo & Stitch tie-dye muscle top, Patton thought it was adorable with the happy Stitch image on top of the blue and white tie-dye with the stripe of purple. But when he tried it on he didn’t quite like what he saw in the mirror. Surprisingly enough, the tank had fit fine, he just didn’t like looking at his arms. All he saw were two ugly, pale blobs pressed against his torso, his pudge making them almost look disfigured as he relaxed his shoulders. The image made him grimace and he quickly pulled off the shirt.

Luckily there weren't any more tank tops, but the graphic tees in the pile brought up a whole new set of problems.

There was one shirt that hugged his tummy a little too tight, another one felt like the sleeves were squeezing his arms making him fear that he would rip the hem. He tried on a plain pastel pink knit sweater, but that one was much too short, barely pulling down past his stomach. Next was a blue t-shirt with a sketch if the lovely princess Cinderella, it was long enough to cover his bottom, but it was lying in such a way that made his love-handles stand out much to his dismay.

The rest of the shirts were a similar story, and by the time Patton was finished, there was a tight ache in his chest and tears stinging his eyes.

“How’s it going in there? I wanna see you.”

Roman’s sweet voice chimed in from behind the door but Patton couldn’t take it, all he wanted to do was go home. He wanted to go home and just bawl his eyes out. Patton was such a kind soul, he tried to see the bright side of things but when it came to his body he just couldn’t, he hated feeling this way.

The dressing room door creaked open and Roman was met with a sad sight. Patton’s arms her crossed against his stomach hugging himself as he held his head down, notably wearing the same outfit he came in with.

“Hey, what’s up?” Roman asked concerned, “you didn't like any of them?”

Patton shook his head and spoke softly, “I just wanna go home…”

“Home? But we haven’t even bought anything!”

Roman was confused, hurt to see his boyfriend in such a state as Patton walked passed him. Virgil noticed this and came over.

“Is something wrong?”

Patton sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve, “nothing fit, okay?! Nothing ever fits…”

A small whimper left his lips and he just couldn’t take it anymore. Roman tried to go after him only for Virgil to hold him back.

“Hold on, hold on, just give him a minute.”

~~~

Patton ran to Roman’s car and jumped inside, tearing his cute headband off and pulling his sweatshirt off over his head leaving him in a plain blue t-shirt. He promptly shoved his face into the sweater and let the tears flow as he sat under the hot summer sun.

Very little time passed before Roman came to the driver's side and opened the door, his heart aching to see Patton in such a state.

“Pattie Cake?” He asked gently as he got in the car, “it’s okay, I’m sure we’ll find something that works.”

“You don’t understand,” Patton cried, “I’ve never had a good shopping experience, Ro, never! I’m so sorry I let you drag me to this awful place…”

“Hey, I thought you liked the mall.”

“Sure, when I’m just getting things and not receiving those judgemental looks. Clothes shopping is different. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling, just talk to me.”

Roman reached out and placed a hand on Patton’s shoulder prompting his rant.

“I don’t know why you like me… I’m gross and ugly. If you saw my body I’m sure you’d feel the very same. Hate is such a strong word… But I hate myself! No matter how hard I try to look at it, all I’m going to ever be is this disgusting blob! I’m never able to find anything I like, I can only see if it fits, and if it fits then I wear it,” Patton just kept getting more and more worked up, causing him to pause and take a deep breath, finally looking over to Roman. “I wanna express myself, so I wear makeup and pretty headbands, but my clothing?” He shook his head. “I loved those shirts you picked out but… I’m sorry I’m just too fat to wear them.

Fat. The word hissed from his lips, sounding like poison. This one word caused Patton so much pain but he shows no hesitation when referring to himself as such.

“Patton, darling, why are you so hard on yourself?” Roman rested his hand on his cheek wiping away his tears, “gross? Ugly? Never!” He wrapped his arms around Patton and hugged him tightly. 

Patton was tempted to hug back, but he just felt so numb after his fit of emotions.

Roman sighed and turned his head to kiss Patton’s cheek, “my dear you are handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, absolutely magnificent! Whatever you prefer!” He pulled away and lifted Patton’s chin ever so slightly, “I love you… I love you just as you are, and you should too.”

Patton pouted trying to avoid his gaze, “doesn’t change the fact that I don’t…”

“Then,” Roman began, “you can take the steps to change that, and I’ll support you every step of the way.”

He put on a comforting smile then perked up remembering the trip to Hot Topic prior, “until then, Virgil wasn’t gonna let me leave unless I bought something, so here.” Roman pulled out a gift card and handed it to Patton, “he told me that they provide more sizes on the online store, you can get whatever you like.”

It was then Patton wiped away his tears and smiled, looking down at the gift card then to his loving boyfriend, “Thank you, Roman, so so much.”

He leaned forward and gave Roman a quick kiss before sitting back in his seat, “it means a lot.”

“I say,” Roman started up the car and put his seatbelt on, “we go get Starbucks and head back to your place. Then- only if you’d like to- you can come to the gym with me and Logan tomorrow.”

Patton listened to Roman’s plan as he clicked on his seatbelt then reached to hold his hand once he began driving.

“I think I’d like that.”

~~~

A/N: UUUUGGGGHHH I actually teared up writing this, because Patton is me, plain and simple. These are actual things I've said to myself or have been said to me. This single lady doesn't necessarily have a Roman but I do have a support system and I'm glad to say that no matter what, Big is Beautiful. Until next time, Lovies ;)

[wittywallflower]

One of them (probs Pen) getting so jealous she sprouts out she is in love with Schneider

Here it is!

Group therapy leads Penelope to an epiphany about her feelings for Schneider

“Penelope, we havent heard from you yet.” Pam kept her voice admirably neutral.

“I don’t got a lot to say.” Penelope waved off the group therapy leader with a smile.

More than one eyebrow went up. The Cuban was not known as being the wallflower of the group. Penelope knew that and didn’t fail to notice the disbelief on some faces.

“Really.” She insisted “Things are really good right now. I don’t need to take the time away from people with problems they need to talk about. You’ve all listened to my problems plenty.”

“And we are always here to help with those.” Pam said. "But its important for all of us to take the time to acknowledge and celebrate the good things as well. Seeing each other succeed and be happy is a reminder that its possible for all of us, no matter what we are dealing with.”

The women around the circle nodded at that. The therapy meetings helped them in a lot of ways. They had shed a lot of tears together but also shared a lot of smiles and a lot of laughter.

“So, Penelope, would you like to share the good things with us?” Pam asked.

“Okay, well”, Penelope rubbed her palms down her jeans as she considered where to begin. “As you know, i finished my exams. I am officially an NP.”

She took a moment to preen as there was another round of congratulations from her friends.

“And honestly, its like I can breathe again. So much of the pressure is off; no more tests, no more studying, no more researching the reproductive habits of frogs, as if that’s ever going to come up when i am treating bronchitis.” She shook her head, pantomiming shaking off that mental load. “I’m not even nervous about doing the job, I actually feel totally confident in my abilities.”

Which was a marvel when she remembered how she used to second guess her decisions as a nurse, asking Dr. Berkowitz for a consult on so many things she wouldn't question these days.

“Mi mami’s doctor is really pleased with her health, she’s not even fighting me about some of the dietary changes anymore. Elena is an essay writing machine right now, she is raking in so many scholarships for college. So that’s an anxiety attack i don't have to have until next year. Let’s see, what else… Alex has his first serious girlfriend now.”

That had the group chuckling and those who had mothered teen boys expressed their sympathies.

“Yeah, I hear that.” Penelope continued. “But I’ve met her and her family goes to my church. She’s a real good girl. One of the ones we would have called stuck up prudes back in high school, you know? Even Alex couldn’t charm her into anything too bad.

“My tax return was very nice this year. Oh, and I tried that tapas place 3 blocks over on Cayuga street with Schneider last weekend! Food’s a little pricey but the drinks are cheap and really good. We should all go sometime.”

The expected reaction would be for the group to enthuse about a new place to grab post-therapy cocktails but instead Penelope met mostly questioning faces.

“So you’re finally dating that dude?” Ramona asked.

“What? Schneider?” Penelope shook her head in denial. "No, we just got dinner together.”

“Just the two of you?” Penelope nodded in answer to that. “The two of you at a trendy new restaurant on a date night?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a date. We eat together most nights.” she said.

“At home with your mom and kids, not alone out on the town. Did you split the bill?”

“Well, no, he paid.” Penelope had to admit, but she was quick to explain. “But that’s just because he lost a bet we had."

I don’t know,” Ramona said, "still sounds a lot like a date. Do you two usually hang out together when one of you isn't having a crisis?”

“No.”

Not without the rest of the family around. But for the group, that just made their solo outing together seem more significant.

Jill tried to back her up.

“It better not be a date. Doesn’t that Schneider guy have a girlfriend?” she asked.

“Actually, they broke up.” Penelope had to admit.

“Really?”

Jill raised an eyebrow and grinned at the other women, who she had spoken to at length about Schneider’s attractiveness after meeting him at Penelope’s place. Then Penelope’s car was in the shop once, requiring Schneider to drop her off at a meeting. They’d all taken a good long look for themselves that night; after that he became a regular topic of admiring conversation.

“So if he isn’t dating her, and he isn’t dating you… what’s he doing Friday night?” Jill asked.

The group laughed and Penelope joined them at first but then waved the idea off.

“Actually there’s some old musical airing on one of the Spanish channels that night, he promised to watch it with my mom,” she said.

It was really sweet of Schneider to agree to that. The old films tended to make Lydia emotional with memories of home and her Berto. Schneider loved listening to her stories and was always good at cheering the older woman up with requests for dancing lessons or some gentle flirting.

Penelope sensed the stares from the group again. What? It wasn’t that weird for a man to sacrifice his Friday night to keep an old lady he wasn't even related to company. At least not if that man was Schneider. He did macrame with his tenants so they wouldn’t get lonely, por dios. Abruptly, Penelope shifted gears.

“But if you want, Jill,” she joked, elbowing her friend in the side, “I can ask if he is free Saturday night.”

Jill shook her head with a grin. “I’m busy Saturday, what about Sunday? Does he go to worship? 'Cause as we all know i can rock the hell out of a sundress, and he’d look real good on my arm walking into church.”

The whole group cracked up at that.

“I’ll take him Saturday night!”  Another woman piped up. “My cousin is getting married and a hot, rich guy will make a better date than Tom from the mail room at work.”

“No one is forcing you to take Tom.” Penelope pointed out.

“Yeah but its a wedding and going to a wedding alone is just asking for pity.” she said.

Penelope really couldn’t deny that after her own experience at Victor’s ceremony. She’d actually been tempted to ask Schneider to be her date to that. So she wasn’t sure why it rubbed her wrong now to think of him being someone else’s wedding arm candy.

“So, what’s wrong with Tom then?” she asked.

“Um, he’s not a really rich, really hot, really tall Canadian that i want to climb like a maple tree?”

The eruption of ribald laughter covered Penelope’s silent reaction.

‘Hey, he went to your daughter’s quinces right? How does he look in a suit?”

The reminder of Schneider in his suit, weirdly-sexy with that smooth face and no glasses hiding those bright blue eyes of his, … Penelope couldn’t help it, she blushed a bit at the memory.

“Wow, that good huh?” Jill teased her when Penelope didn’t answer. “You know, I have a wedding to go to in 3 weeks myself…”

More laughter. These women loved to talk smack and riff off each other. Penelope knew it was an all a lot of bluster and bullshit. Usually she gave as good as she got. But she was quiet now, strangely unsettled by the words flying around her.

“Is there a waiting list a girl can get on?” was asked with seeming earnestness.

Yeah, so what? So Schneider was kind of hot; kind of really hot. That had never affected Penelope’s opinion of him, or how she treated him. He wasn’t some piece of meat.

“Yeah, I don’t need him for a date,” Ramona stated the obvious, “but I wouldn’t say no to him helping me change my brake pads.”

“My mom’s retirement party is in March. Does he do the fake boyfriend thing, or will that cost extra?”

“Cost extra? If Richie Rich isn’t paying for everything, what’s the point?"

The jokes came fast and easy, but Penelope wasn't finding them very funny. What was he, some sugar daddy for these girls to use and discard? Sure, maybe he did stuff for her sometimes that didn’t exact fall under a landlord’s duties, but that was different. They were friends, they did things for each other, took care of each other. It wasn’t like that.

She was special.

She tried not to acknowledge the thought, just like she tried not to face the fact that she didn’t want to share that with anyone. She didn’t want to share him.

Being quiet really wasn’t a Penelope trait, so her friends took pointed notice that she wasn’t joining the banter. They had been hearing about this guy for years, wondering when or if the two would ever stop dancing around each other. Of course, it is entirely possible for a man and a woman to be close friends on an entirely platonic basis.

But its also possible to be in denial when one’s feelings start to change.

They had listened over the years as he became increasingly important in her life. And they certainly were not above baiting Penelope into admitting it.

“Hey Pen, you’ve seen him in bike shorts. What’s he packin’?” one bold voice asked. Penelope went rigid in her seat. “Now there’s one tool of his I’d like to borrow!”

Oh hell no.

“Well, you can’t!” Penelope snapped.

“Well, if no one else is using it…”

“He’s not a gigolo, or some boy-toy for you to play with!” Penelope exploded. "He’s been through a lot and he’s had too many people let him down!”

Pam settled a hand on her arm and Penelope realized she had been shifting in her seat in agitation. “Penelope, we’re just joking around. You know that. Can we talk about why it bothers you so much?”

“He’s such a good man and so many people look down on him and treat him like he is worthless, even his own family. I don't want that for him. He deserves better.”

“We know he means a lot to you-”

“Yeah. He does.” Penelope cut Pam off. “I don’t know what I’d do with out him. I rely on him to help me with my anxiety attacks. I trust him with my mami and my kids. I, I…”

She groped for the words, trying to find some way to explain it to these women. To make them understand that Schneider’s presence in her life was a blessing, that any person would be lucky to have him around. How to make them see what an amazing guy he is. And also why she couldn’t stand anyone else getting the same special Schneider treatment she got. Didn’t want to do it all without his help.

The group didn’t make it easier for her. They could sense Penelope was on the cusp of a revelation. There were no jokes now, no pointed comments about Schneider’s abs, or queries into any desire Penelope might have to run her tongue over them. They knew that when Penelope got started, sometimes it was best to just let her go, let her ramble and rant and rave until she led herself to the obvious conclusion. They had been waiting for her to work this one out.

Penelope looked around at the expressions on their faces. No one seemed surprised by her spirited defense of Schneider. More impressively, no one was even smirking in that “haha, got you to admit you don’t hate him” kinda way. Suddenly it seemed like the group knew her better than she knew herself. Like they knew what the denial had kept her from acknowledging all along and knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“Holy crap, I love him.”

Penelope breathed out a sigh at the intense realization. It was a surprise. Of course. When had she fallen for the man-baby? But judging by the feeling of relief, the loosening of a tension she hadn’t even known she was holding, it had been a long time coming. She smiled, feeling like another weight had been lifted from her chest and she was taking a full deep breath for the first time in years.

Then her mind started to race again. Her smile fell and when her eyes darted around the group again, they had a slightly panicked look in them. Acknowledging her feelings was one thing (one damned difficult thing), but acting on them?

“Well, what now?!?” she asked in a panic.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 24

The following morning, I slid Arantxa a mug of coffee as she sat next to me with a groan. “How do I feel even more tired than I did when I went to bed last night?” she grumbled before making a valiant attempt to drown herself in the hot beverage.

I raised my matching mug in a silent toast. “I know, right? I couldn’t sleep for anything.  I have the big sister of the migraine I went to bed with last night, to boot.  I had to ask Miys to get a batch of analgesic patches from medical, which turned out to be a good idea because I am apparently not the only one.  Xiomara looked at me like I single-handedly ended world hunger when I told her.”

She grunted before coming up from her coffee for air and a refill. “We are all under a significant amount of stress.  Everyone seems a little dazed today, even Councillor Hodenson, if that helps.”

“No way,” I murmured in disbelief, looking around.  Sure enough, Grey was standing with their data screen up, but staring off into the distance over it. “I didn’t think anything could get to them.  At least I don’t feel as bad knowing they’re rattled, too,” I shook my head, groaning slightly as the pain in it intensified.

I didn’t even realize I had closed my eyes until they flew open at the sound of something being set in front of me.  “I swear, for someone who likes to cook so much, you sure forget to eat an awful lot,” the familiar voice of Zach Khan trickled in my ear as I stared at a plate of scrambled eggs piled high and topped with salsa and cheese.  “Your sister said your favorite breakfast is huevos rancheros, but this is the best I could do with what they brought in.”

Pushing down the rolling nausea in my stomach, I took a tentative bite.  As much as I knew he was right, migraines always made me sick.  I just reminded myself that dry-heaving was worse than throwing up and forced myself to swallow.  “And everyone calls me a mother hen,” I tried to joke.  “Thanks, Zach.”

“No prob,” he waved off. “I already took something to Derek and Tyche.  She said she thinks she’s coming down with something at the worst possible time, so she asked me bring you something to eat while she tries to cool off in the shower.  I would have grabbed you something, too, but I didn’t know what,” the last part was directed at my friend, who was showing heretofore unknown talent in chugging scalding beverages at this point.

She paused long enough to shake her head. “I don’t eat breakfast, but thank you.  Once I am more awake, I will find something, I promise.”

After throwing a scowl at her for not eating something, I turned back to Zach. “What are you even doing up already?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Plus, someone had to be on hand to set up the headsets for the drone pilots.  They’re pretty bootstrap since our host had nothing like them on hand, but we’ve got them working.  The pilots report some nausea and dizziness from prolonged use, but that’s pretty standard with prolonged VR use, which is essentially what we’ve got them doing.  Pranav was going to ask Derek to take a look at them, but Maverick and I pretty much put the kibosh on that until he’s recovered from yesterday.”

“How’s he doing?” I asked, worried.

“Eh, he ate, so that’s good. I took him as much water as I could carry, and he’s holed up in the farthest corner of one of the sleeping areas, spoiling your cat.  Conor brought up some of his modelling clay, so he’s got that, Mac, and a few ice packs.” A huge wait I wasn’t previously aware of fell off my chest at the information.

Arantxa’s face made a sudden appearance from her fourth – fifth? – cup of coffee. “Conor was here?” she asked excitedly.

As I smothered a grin, Zach shook his head. “Negative. He was on Level Three, where Miys met him to pick up the clay. Security is still super tight until we find out who or what caused the sensor damage.”

My poor, lovesick friend deflated at the news, and I was torn between laughing and crying to see how much she missed our friendly giant.  “We were supposed to have a date, today,” she grumbled.

“Nuh uh!” I cried, echoed by Zach’s “No way!”

She nodded. “We were going to visit BioLab 2, and he was going to teach me to swim.”

“Uh, Rants, you already know how to swim,” I pointed out.

“He doesn’t know that,” she declared imperiously.  “It was the best I could do, since I have absolutely no help.” The last was accompanied by a playful glare.

“Wait wait wait,” Zach held up his hands. “Did Conor know this was supposed to be a date?  Deets! I need deets!”

“Are you going to give me dating advice?” she asked eagerly.

“Who? ME!?” he pointed at himself. “You’ve got to be kidding.  I’m pining over the Ace Ace over there, which is the dumbest thing ever for a bisexual horndog, so I’m the worst person to ask for advice.”

“Are all bisexuals disasters?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Zach and I replied in unison before glancing at each other and laughing.  

I had to stop when the small man in my head found a bigger hammer to pound my skull with. “Ugh, I need to wait until my pain meds kick in before I have the rest of this conversation. Y’all have fun, though,” I waved at them as I stood.

“No, no, nope,” the programmer gently pushed me back in my chair. “Tyche and Derek both insisted you eat all that before I let you out of my sight.  We’ll change the subject, but you have to eat.”

“All of it?” I asked with horror before looking down at my plate. A mountain of eggs stared back at me.

“Four ounces of eggs, one ounce of cheese, an ounce of salsa.  Roughly two hundred calories, Tyche’s orders. And she scares me more than you do – I’m pretty sure she actually could kill me with one eyebrow – so you gotta eat that.”

I grumbled and started forcing down the eggs as Arantxa continued her impressive performance at breathing coffee and Zach filled us in on everything that happened while we were asleep.  I only understood about a quarter of what he said, just enough to understand that we were in orbit around one of Eenie’s moons, and in ten hours would be moving to the next for additional materials.  Also, lunch would apparently be vegetarian. Finally, I finished my eggs (much to Zach’s relief) and was free to hunt down Xiomara and another analgesic patch while I waited for my food to settle and coffee to kick in.

When I found her, in the same place I left her the night before, she didn’t seem to be in any better shape than I was.  She sighed gratefully at the sight of the coffee I brought her – a near repeat of the night before – before taking in the pinched look I knew sat around my eyes and just asking “Stress?”

“Yup,” I confirmed. “But life carries on, I’ll be okay once everything calms down.”

“I know the feeling,” she sighed after a sip of coffee.  “Unfortunately, it’s ‘hurry up and wait’ right now.  All the pilots other than Maverick and Evan are taking turns piloting drones while those two crash until further notice.”

“Short notice,” I observed as I gestured to where Maverick was hovering around the jury-rigged controls to the Ark.

Xiomara groaned. “He has decided the Ark is his ‘baby’ and doesn’t want anyone to even come close to the controls until the sensors are fixed and the Miys take back over.” A brief scowl was shot in his direction before she took another swig of steaming caffeine.  She made a remarkably good impression of Mac’s look of satisfaction as she enjoyed her coffee.

“Have you had a chance to talk to Pranav about the sensors?” I asked, hoping she would understand what I meant.

“Mmm,” she hummed enthusiastically. “Yes, I have.  Two of the pilots on file are currently in genetic surgery bays, about halfway through treatment.  The other ten, we’re looking into alibis.  There’s an incredible amount of metadata collected by the systems, so Pranav is personally going through that.  It’ll take a few days, but we want to be completely clear rather than chasing rabbits.”

“If there’s so much data, how do we not know who destroyed the back up sensors,” I asked quietly, mostly thinking out loud.

“Temporary systemic blackouts from all common areas to the location of the sensors,” she muttered unhappily. “Tracing that is Zach’s next job, and once Mr. Okafor is recovered and has checked the VR rigs, we’re hoping he can take over as primary.”

“Normally, I would be incredibly defensive at the idea of Derek being expected to do so much, but honestly I don’t know how anyone will be able to stop him once he finds out that someone played jiggery-pokery in his playground.  He’ll do it anyway, so I’m glad he’s at least allowed to this time.” When she raised an eyebrow at me in question, I waved her off. “Nothing major. He may have hacked the medical database to make sure the evergreens that Conor Mac Maoilir decided to spread all over the ship for winter holidays wouldn’t mess with people’s allergies? He was grounded from my cat for a week, and I made him fix the security weakness, I swear!” I explained hastily when she gaped in horror.

“You are telling me a seventeen-year-old hacked an alien data system for a medical bay that we have no training for, just to make sure a bunch over oversized shrubs wouldn’t make anyone sneeze!?” She demanded.

“Like I said, he fixed it?” I responded sheepishly.  “To be fair, that’s part of the reason Pranav trusts his skills so much.  Every programmer and network security specialist on this ship, including Noah, can’t figure out how to keep him out of literally anything. Fortunately, he generally does it just to see if he can, or because he’s looking for something very specific. Since he isn’t hurting anyone, and actually usually does it to avoid hurting people, it’s really difficult to convince him not to do it.”

She just shook her head. “Good thing he’s a good kid.  That’s… it would be horrifying if it wasn’t just incredible.”

“Right?” I asked in agreement. “On another topic, how’s Grey holding up?  I saw them just staring into space earlier, which is unusual.”

“Grey is unusual in general,” she shrugged. “People are more your thing than mine.  Why don’t you go check on our fellow Councillor, and I’ll ride herd on the pilots?”

I smirked before I could stop myself. “Coward,” I accused in a teasing tone.

“People shooting at me, piloting in wild new frontiers, I’m good.  People? Not so much,” she shrugged.  “That’s why I’m Safety and Security, and you’re People.”

“Human Resources and Social Engagement,” I scowled.

“Right. People. Go people at Grey, see if they’re okay,” she shooed.  Softer, she tilted her head. “Seriously.  This is pretty much their show right now, so we really need them to be okay.”

I took a deep breath before nodding.  The second painkiller patch had made a significant dent in my migraine, downgrading it all the way to a screaming headache.  I could work with that.  I’d worked with worse.  “If I’m not back in two hours, send Noah.  Or my sister, if she’s feeling better.”

Grey startled as I gently touched their elbow. “Grey.  I’m sorry for touching you – I know you don’t like it – but I’ve called your name ten times. I even tried waving my hands in front of you.  Are you okay?”

They shook their head like they were waking up before pushing their glasses up. “My apologies, Councillor Reid. I have had difficulty focusing today.  My assurances that I will endeavor to correct this.”

“Whoa,” I stood back, alarmed. “Grey. Since when do you call me ‘Councillor’?  And you never have difficulty focusing.  Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am only distracted, I promise. I admit I am distressed by the lack of materials for repairing the sensors.  The drones are bringing in a satisfying amount of elements to replenish what we have used by being on board, but less than a tenth of what we need for the sensors. It is frustrating that we have no data we can use to narrow our search to only locations that would yield what we need.”

“So, what do we need?” I asked, happy to play rubber duck if it would assist my friend.

“Silica, mostly, for the necessary optical fibers. Iron, aluminum, gold or at least silver for plating and wires,” they rubbed their eyes tiredly before replacing their ever-present glasses.

“Okay, that makes sense,” I nodded.  I was mildly concerned that I actually understood the majority of what they were saying. “So what are we not locating?”

“Iron,” Grey replied.  “This particular moon is very iron poor, it turns out.”

“Iron,” I repeated. “Wasn’t Mars iron rich?  That’s why it was red, right?”

“Correct, but atmospheric neon would also cause a planet or moon to be red if the atmosphere was charged.”

“Still, it narrows down the search, so that may help,” I pointed out.  “What else?”

“Aluminum, and before you ask, aluminum does not have a distinct color that is observable from atmosphere,” they glanced at me knowingly. “It is white or grey, and in cases where it is found in the form of bauxite, it is blue or green.  Several minerals and atmospheric gases create the same color.  Additionally, it would take significant concentrations to cause it to be visible from orbit.”

I shrugged.  “Worth a try. So, next question: What can you do, right now, to improve any of this?”

They let out the most defeated sigh I think I ever heard. “Honestly, nothing.  All I am doing is worrying.  I feel there is something that I am missing.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it to me,” I assured them.  “Have any of your researchers come up with any other ideas?”

“They have not,” Grey conceded.

I smiled. “In that case, ask Miys for something to help you sleep – I know you don’t like medication, but you’re exhausted,” I cut off their rebuttal. “Even the finest computer needs to turn off sometimes.  And you are decidedly not a computer, so you need rest even more.”

They blinked at me owlishly. “Is this what Councillor Kalloe refers to as you being a ‘mother hen’?”

“Bingo,” I winked. “You get used to it, I promise. Now go. Sleep.”

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[brightdcys-blog]

we’re back !! with my sunshiny healer girl !!! but do not be fooled.....the sun gives life nd warmth but can also burn u to death much like sunhi.

you’ll find her bio, headcanons, and wanted connections under the cut !!

☾*✧･ﾟ:*「 kang seulgi. cisfem. she/her. 」did you know that there’s a witch in haneul known as ryu sunhi? they have been living here for six years and is a healer in training. they are currently twenty two and was a student at crocus institute of higher magic in the house hyacinth. i heard that they are known to be erratic, but worry not ! i heard they are also very passionate too. remember to stay out of trouble, the ju jak are lurking around every corner !

BIO:

sunhi was raised in the countryside outside of busan !!

her family wasn’t poor but they weren’t the most well off either. her parents ran a small potions shop that catered to both humans and magi. the divide between the two groups seemed to have not touched her small town as much as it did bigger cities.

from the age of seven her parents sent her to a magic prep school in busan to give her a leg up when she finally went to crocus. it was expensive, and they spent a large chunk of their income on it, but they truly believed it was what was best for their little girl.

from september to may she attended school in the city, living in the dormitories. during summers she would go home to the countryside.

she was a terrific student in school. since her parents were working so hard to get her an education she worked really hard to be top of her class and not step a toe out of line, for fear of ruining her chances at getting into crocus and letting her family down.

despite being a good student, sunhi’s time at the prep school wasn’t all that pleasant. she was often the target of bullying from other girls from richer families who deemed her unworthy of being there.

summers home were always her favourite because she got to spend time with her family, as well as her best friend --- a neighbourhood boy named jaejun who she had befriended in her early childhood.

the two would spend practically every day together while she was at home ( that she wasn’t working ), swimming in the lake or going on adventures in the woods. when she was away at school they kept in constant contact via handwritten letters that they would send one another every few days.

she was defs highkey in love w/ him but never said anything because she didn’t think it would be fair of her to expect a relationship when she was away in busan most of the year.

had a summer job at a tea house in her town. she saved every cent she earned so that she could move to seoul when she graduated.

at sixteen she graduated from the prep school and, as planned, moved to seoul all on her own !! she got a tiny, crappy loft apartment that was basically just a room with a kitchen on one side and empty space on the other, but it was hers and she loved it.

for two years she worked three jobs to save up enough money to continue paying her rent and living expenses while she attended school. she didn’t want to have to move into the dorms, the thought making her anxious due to how horrible her experience was in busan. she preferred the comfort of living in her own space where she could have everything her way.

a year after she moved to seoul, jaejun reached out to her after a year of very little contact asking if he could stay with her until he got himself on his feet. of course she said yes, and he moved in right away.

having him living with her was simultaneously the best and worst year of her life. the best because it was jj, the worst because of who he had become. she spent most nights waiting up for hours until he got home, constantly in a state of worry that ate away at her.

lucky for her ( i guess ) she doesn’t remember !! any of it !! because right before the two of them started attending crocus, jj wiped her memory of him and dipped.

because of that she has a lot of blank spots from her childhood. situations that don’t add up or make sense when she thinks back on them. found a shirt of his he forgot in the laundry and had no idea where it came from or why there was a guys clothing in her house. still wears the sunflower necklace he got her when they were thirteen but couldn’t tell you where she got it. 

when she started at crocus she was sorted into hyacinth. despite the house’s reputation for spitting out herbologists and seers, sunhi decided she wanted to be a field healer.

almost all of her professors tried to talk her out of it, saying that she was too softhearted for a job that draining, but that only made her want to do it more so she could prove to them ( and herself ) that she was strong and capable.

had a boyfriend for a little over a year. he sucked so she ended things to focus on school. she doesn’t really like to talk about him much because it’s still a touchy subject.

was somehow very involved but also very uninvolved with social activities at crocus. a bit of a floater, she never really settled into any particular groups of friends, instead casually befriending random people here or there. nothing really stuck though, because despite her extraverted and friendly nature she’s horrible at keeping up friendships.

graduated in the top of her class at the age of twenty one, and was quickly taken on for practical training at a magi hospital in seoul !! she’s currently employed there and mostly works with children ( even though she isn’t the biggest fan of them ) but is hoping to start field training once she’s done the basics.

just moved into a new, much nicer apartment !! thanks healer salary, u a real one !!

HEADCANONS & RANDOM FACTS:

literally probably the most social person on the planet. she will strike up a conversation with anybody anywhere because she’s just so curious about everything.

very organized and particular about her things and her space. her apartment looks like something out of home and garden and even her purse has a specially tailored organization system.

avid hockey fan !! will stay up into the wee hours of the morning to watch the live broadcast of nhl games. her favorite team is the montreal canadiens.

has a tendency to get very stressed very easily. one little thing can ruin her mojo for an entire day and she’ll be very snappy until something calms her down again.

claims to have a horrible memory because of how little of her childhood she can recall. little doES SHE KNOW !! IT AINT HER FAULT !!

is a vegetarian.

she’s so competitive it’s like an issue. she will compete with the person walking beside her down the street to see who can reach the crosswalk faster ( without even mentioning it to them ). she will even compete with herself as a way of “ self improvement. ”

pinky promises are a binding contract in her mind. will mumble a charm to herself upon making a pinky promise that will cause minor inconveniences for the other person if they should ever break their promise and not come clean about it. 

seems like the type of person who would like kids but she...really actually doesn’t. she finds them messy and annoying and she doesn’t ever plan on having kids of her own.

has a very impressive collection of scented candles.

when she’s at home she does not wear pants. she hates pants with a passion.

cannot leave the house without putting on mascara and lip tint, even if she’s just running to the mail box.

dresses like a grandpa.

cannot cook to save her life. she’s truly horrible at it, her mother is very disappointed.

keeps a very detailed planner, it’s always in her purse.

knows standard korean and when she’s working she speaks very professionally. when she’s anywhere else that busan satoori be poppin.

so loud. someone pls tell her to shut up.

if music is playing, she is dancing. she cannot be stopped. she’s just gotta groove.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

former classmates:

sunhi was a social butterfly in school and probably knew most of the people in her year !! tbh she probably knew most of the people not in her year as well. chances are if she attended school at the same time as your muse she would know them at least a little !

competitors:

was defs that bitch who always wanted to be top of her class, and if she knew someone else was trying to encroach on that she would get very riled up and very competitive.

friends:

pls. she loves basically everyone. 10/10 will always go to lunch or just to run errands with you if you asked because she just loves being around people.

coworkers:

other healers who maybe work at the same hospital as her ? pls.

That Ex From Crocus:

big oof. don’t wanna give too much detail for this connection cause i wanna leave it open ended !! only criteria is that the relationship did not work out. gimme this one for the angst !!

someone to teach her how to cook:

i’m begging. she can’t eat takeout forever. someone save this poor woman.

i’ll add more to this as time goes on, and i’m not limited to just these connections either !! i’m honestly down for pretty much anything, just say the word and i’ll probs do it cause i’m a hoe for plots uwu

[choric]

( park jimin - demimale, he/they ) — did you see noeul han walking down the street? the twenty-three year old has lived here for three weeks. i heard they’re an aspiring painter & a part-time barista now, time sure flies. gooey by glass animals always did remind of them, maybe it’s because they’re so audacious & charitable. though i did hear they can also be commanding & capricious if you catch them on a bad day.

hey babes drum-roll it’s admin fany here to welcome yall~ with some random info about me I guess uh so I’m 26, living in northern europe, most of the time dying bc I’m not made for these hot ass summers, other times just being distracted twelve times outta ten jsyk I’m not ignoring anyone my attention span is just in the negatives. or I’m playing overwatch. or subnautica when I’m feeling particularly masochistic.  would drop dead without tea. ye. that’s all for today folks

anyway here’s Noeul’s profile if you wanna peep also a very messy plot page aaaand I’m gonna ramble about him now uwu

tw: emotional abuse, tw: assault ( kinda brief mentions, esp the assault, I tried keeping it safe )

born in Seoul but his family moved to USA when he was barely 6. they moved around a l o t since then but stayed within the borders. save for one weird year in France back in 2010

he haTED it. all the constant moving around and starting at new schools with new people trying to get new friends and find new hobbies and leaving pretty much everything behind so often just stressed the hell out of his young self and he was in a perpetual state of over-emotional about the whole ordeal and angry and bitter and yeah. not having a good time

over the years he managed to find ways to cope with it, drawing and painting being a major thing as it was one of very few things he could just continue without any special arrangements made or it feeling different. putting all that bent up negativity on paper was helpful in itself so he stuck with it without much thought then, clinging into a lifeline of one constant in a sea of variables

later on it morphed from being less of a therapeutic activity and more one of him being able just flow with creativity, paint with a less personal agenda and enjoy it way more too ( not to say he doesn't still use it as a form of escapism too )

reading was another thing he found enjoyment in, especially during his early teenage years. that is something he doesn't engage that often in anymore however

his parents didn’t really care about what hobbies he took on ( even with painting carrying throughout the years he ended up trying a whole slew of other things too ) until it became apparent he was actually considering art as a legit career path. neither agreed it being a good idea but they didn’t flat out deny him either.. just were very patronising about it for months and by that time he had come to actual decision of going through with it out of pettiness alone lmao. which of course served nothing but to legit piss them off and led to a number of arguments they still have to this day yikes

his parents entire view on life seemed to be there was no point getting attached to anything, sentimentality was a flaw and you could just buy everything you needed again without much care for what was left behind. especially his mom had a lot of emotionally abusive ways to steer his life in the direction she wanted, but giving just enough freedom for him to think he had a say in anything. not to say she wasn’t supportive and encouraging too but he honest to god can’t tell now how much of it was genuine. she was especially fond of using subtle blackmail in form of referring to her own feelings and how his actions will upset her, occasionally bursting into a loud tirade which was then quickly pushed to the side without any apologies for making him in turn upset so boy was always just on edge. this still happens but he pretty much only communicates with her through calls anymore so, Noeul just hangs up when she starts acting up. his dad was more the type to not involve himself into his hobbies and likes or anything at all he only cared about academic plans.

that all messed him up big time in his younger years bc he was inherently just very attached to everything and everyone but now.. it’s almost the complete opposite, enough repetition and shit will stick I guess cause he has next to no sentimental feelings towards anything, in turn actually loves travelling and meeting new people now. partially also cause he doesn’t feel obligated to uphold anything or allow himself being chained down, he treats everything like it’s fleeting, but not without care– don’t assume he doesn’t care when that’s something he does in abundance actually. he just.. accepts nothing lasts forever. ironic enough he’s adopted far too many of his parent’s habits to count now but has grown more tender with the experiences rather than cold. probably a miracle in itself. hella guarded about his feelings tho

so yeah he moved to LA ( parents were at the time both living in NYC ) for art school and got that bachelor of fine arts degree, graduating just spring last year and has no desire to further those studies cause screw school he’s done with institutions for a decade

also his parents filed for divorce while he was at it. before he was even done with freshman year. wasn’t all too surprising nor did he have anything to really say about it, except the times mom called him whilst drunk and essentially blamed it on him being a bad son :/// his dad’s fucked off somewhere he hasn’t heard whole lot from him in last three years beside birthday texts and money transfers to his bank account. and subtle messages through mom about how he expects him to clean up one of these days. meanwhile mom mostly contacts just to check he’s alive & doing well financially while slipping in vague ‘if you would have just listened to me‘s and ‘when will you come to your senses’s >_>

forgot to mention his dad’s a CEO of a small airline company. don’t ask me what his mom does idk prob some manager of a huge ass successful online shop?? something along those lines

will not speak about them if asked tbh don't expect anything other than "they're alive."

does not like announcing his ( their ) wealth to the world either and tries not to make decisions that could reflect that but something always has to give in the end. like he’s just way too happy to blow money on other people no matter how subtle he tries to be about it and often like his parents buys new stuff instead of finding ways to bring his old along, some of his clothes are also a dead giveaway it’s not so much that he specifically purchases anything cause it’s designer but if it looks nice he doesn’t see it as any different buying from any other store around. smells awfully lot like privilege but he’s unapologetic in getting exactly what he wants, it’s not his problem if someone takes offence to that

kind of also hates that he’s so dependant on parent’s money still but has made peace with it by giving away and works twice as hard for his own stuff, regardless if it yields anything cause he’s not doing this whole painting thing as a means to gain money ( would like to, but alas, it’s a tricky career path ) more from pure passion for the art

and noeul def is not gonna tell them to stop sending him cash he'll just have fun spending it in all the shit they'd hate-- even if they've basically set conditions but weird enough haven't cut him off yet.  guess that really is the only thing they can give him and they know it too :)) 

so. doesn’t actually like sitting idle even tho he all but could, yet cannot happily place himself in an establishment with very strict 9 to 5 shifts and such, so if and when he takes on extra work occasionally it’s always part-time, and for own personal gratification

in the case of him recently taking on a spot as a part-time barista here in acarike ( started like, two days ago or something ) was also bc of keeping up appearances ( surely he would run out of money eventually? no, but no one needs to know that ) and getting to know some of the people around since his group of road-tripping friends have seriously decided to settle in

if anyone was wondering yes he has experience working in cafes, among other places. his parents abhorred him taking on such jobs at all cause “what was the point? are we not providing enough?” first of all did he ask?

I guess he is currently residing in the stardust motel?? but is looking for a place

for him travelling in the past few years has been sorta cathartic, inspiring if I dare say both in personal growth and in his work since he can decide on everything by himself, where he wants to go, for how long, for why etc

sometimes likes when he has company for that, other times he just needs to make a trip in solitary. altogether prefers meeting random people along the way

is a kind of odd friend, loyal, compassionate and all that but puts himself before anyone else. or rather puts his emotional and other needs before everything else. if he feels you’re the one getting more out of it than he is it’s not worth it sorry. very generous tho and sees it as his duty to help others in any way if it doesn’t inconvenience him. not unreliable but available only when it suits him. so unless it’s life threatening or emotional distress he will not drop everything for even a friend’s sake you can wait an hour or two. can make friends as quick as he drops them

might get a little inappropriately affectionate with friends. especially so when intoxicated

is an even weirder lover. he loves the idea and feeling of being in love and the emotional thrill of it. relationships are fun yeah but commitment?? not in his. vocabulary. to elaborate he lives for the push and pull and the suspense of it all and needs things to stay stimulating on all levels across the board when deepening relationships further while also being able to maintain a sense of own freedom. he craves the sort of emotional security and gratification it all brings but refuses to become dependant on it ( he knows how that will go ), furthermore does not like all the limitations it brings nor everything being perfect to the point of feeling fake??

tries to make it clear that he’s NOT looking for anything long term but even then people haven’t taken it well when he out of the blue announces they should stop whatever it is they’re doing. he always feels bad about it and tries to part in good terms but yeah :// many hearts have been broken. it’s probably even worse for the other person cause Noeul himself seems to have absolutely no problem continuing his life like nothing happened. all this has made him into a bit of a serial dater??

in whole he takes everything as they are, nothing is everlasting and he doesn’t try to make it so, doesn’t necessarily want to. values experiences but doesn’t get too hung up on letting go of them. including relationships. this is something a lot of people in his life wont understand and it’s frustrating for everyone involved sometimes but you gotta do what you gotta do. might be scared of opening up to people. of that attachment. maybe he’s actually just picky and is waiting for something out of the world magical who knows

repels all negativity as if his life depended on it like. add begone thot meme here

but can also be very confrontational so???

is actually in constant war with himself over positive and negative emotions but filters that out pretty handily. most of the time. cause uh absolutely will turn vicious and loud when angry. sensitive to criticism and personal attacks but gets over it quick enough. does hold grudges but mainly towards people whose opinion he cares about. strangers rarely phase him. has random emotion™ bursts but tbh only cries when being shouted at and/or being target of someone’s wrath-- OR when noeul's angry himself?? also lowkey dramatic but most of the time he’s just sorta chill and cheery, occasionally sarcastic but in a good-natured way he doesn’t mean ill with it. has very strong opinions on some things but doesn’t care if someone else sees it differently. as long as they’re not saying their way is the only right way. or if their reasoning is utter bullshit which he will call out then :))

negative people just make him laugh. will not take your ass seriously at all if you’re being a douche. used to take offence to these kinds of people all the time but he’s grown out of it and learned to simply ignore people who don’t deserve the time of his day. at least outwardly.

similarly used to be very.. well. lets say prone to letting people control and push him around cause that’s what he had learned to accept but whoo boy when he finally figured it out and took the reigns into own hands no one could stop him try it bitch

likes doing things in own terms in general, need for control has kinda taken off so will not take kindly to being ordered around in any manner. tries not to impose on other people or be pushy himself but cannot stand indecisiveness so. it happens. for better or for worse

in tune with his surroundings and current community of people if something’s off he can sense it and it will bug him to no end before it’s fixed. this could be anything from his room being in disarray to something going on in the city in whole

I ain’t saying he’s a psychic but actually stupid intuitive most cases WILL see through your bullshit don’t even try

…ok but lowkey into supernatural stuff and spirituality all that jazz he’s gone through it all while trying to find himself– which is a whole another can of worms we ain’t opening here

did I forget to mention noeul and co ( minho & jae ) rolled into town in this shiny big rv. he's def looking to buy a smaller car to drive around

not too keen on giving rides to strangers since this one time two summers ago that went south real fast when a guy pulled a knife on him. has a pretty big scar to show for it on his right side? tummy?? there’s a pic in the profile page if you’re curious. he jokes about it now "it adds character" but is actually terrified of that happening again so perpetually jumpy minho blames himself for it cause he's dumb

you can prob hear him coming 5 miles away with the amount of jewellery he adorns

don’t get me started on his wardrobe it’s a mixed bag and then some. gender norms belong into the fiery pits of a volcano

is equal parts a tea & coffee enthusiast basically lives off that stuff. i'm probably not even exaggerating here boy forgets to eat when he gets focused on something and just wolfs down a pot of coffee.

obsessed with watermelon flavoured lollipops probably has one on him at all times somehow magically pulls them outta thin air??

you can prob find him painting outside in the randomest places when the weather's nice

likes painting on people probably as much as painting them

it’s not an intimacy thing I swear. but. can be?? probably accidentally turns that way that’s just how he is

prefers either to focus on faces ( eyes specifically ) or nude models in general fcking @ him

this. is so long already I’m sorry omg

and that’s all I got my brains’ fried over this all but yo come plot with me pls also check my plots maybe orrr if you want me to check your plots ( I’d love to!! ) come poke me ay ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[brokenhayatim]

the projectionist

[now playing: the projectionist & north by sleeping at last]

this has been a long time coming but i couldn’t put my words to paper screen.

when hands are tied and clocks are ticking an audience convinced: we’re leaning in  holding our breath again

i can’t wait to go back to my place. i used to say that a lot, not out of spite or rudeness but because i genuinely couldn’t wait to be back to my own calm. its hit me now how i’ll no longer have that. and i wish i could feel finally sad or even say i’m still overwhelmed and confused, but it’s this sense of somber longing i guess. longing to keep something so good and somber at the reality that i just..won’t have that soon. i began calling this place home years ago and not because of the state (please, i would’ve anywhere but this state if not for the people i’ve met here) but because it’s my home. i more than just studied here, i built a fresh start, a life here. and i feel like i won’t have that again. is this what people feel like when they move out of their home of like 14 years that they raised 4 children and adopted 3 dogs in. it’s more tough than i thought, you know. every lease i’ve signed (shaking bc commitment may i add) i’ve always know i would be here the next, even though not in the same place and living with the same people, i’d still be here. i get emotional and nostalgic thinking of my former places every time i move, and i still think back to my first. i remember moments so vividly and what the apartment looked like from every square inch. but this is different. i moved an entire state away, essentially to be alone, and i love it. i love that i don’t depend on people for the simple things and less for the difficult things. i love that i have a routine. i like that i come home and i’m alone (roommates, i know, but it’s different). i go to the grocery store alone, i’ve learned the way and i’ve walked. i like that i could walk to target and walgreens, because i’ve learned the way. i like that i don’t have to depend on driving especially, i take a few ubers but even then, i’m comfortable doing that. something new york asiya would never have been. i go for mri’s alone. i walk to uni alone and back (except when i take the bus bc gurl i would sweat). i go the airport and fly alone, something i’ve loved. don’t get me wrong i love my siblings and miss them dearly but that’s what visits are for, and we have those every few months. no one has also came to visit me except my sister twice, and would i really want them too..i don’t know. **to expand on that first time at a later date** but now my brain is like ‘come. see the life i’ve made for myself. i want to show you all i’ve built’.

we'll tell our stories on these walls. every year, measure how tall and just like a work of art we'll tell our stories on these walls

i’m not ready for so many unknowns. where will i live soon? how many jobs will i have to apply for and which ones? even simplest things like where will i do my laundry? i’ve babbled about this but i’m so incredibly grateful for the apartments that i’ve had with amenities. my sisters are always shocked to know how i live at such a small price, but student housing [chef’s kiss]. but things like central ac and in home laundry, i’ve never thought of that, but new york i’ll have to. i’ll probs have to buy my room ac and walk for laundry if i live in the city. i can’t imagine i’d get a graphic design job or something similar anywhere near where i live, so the city i shall be. how far will i have to go to the store? what may happen on the way? i’ve sometimes worried about walking to the store here, mostly when they have kidnappers on the loose, but i always feel more safe than not. i walk 20/30 mins to target and walgreens on foot on the side of the main road and i’ve taken public transportation too. story on that, i told my first roommate how to get to the store from the bus and she was terrified so i went with her and she was like ...i can’t do this alone, i’ll just call a car. would new york asiya have done that too? probably not. because florida me is more independent (idk if bold or courageous is the word) and probs just a little crazy. ubers also are way more expensive in new york, just to add on that. i’ve taken the subway and train alone in new york and have walked blocks alone around nyu and parks. i know new york well, where i live and a bit of the city, but it’s not the same. my dream would be like keeping what i have here and copy and pasting it into the state of new york. i’ve always been and felt like a new yorker here, not once a floridian. i definitely don’t even do that school pride thing, some people actually never knew where i went to college. new york is also home for me, but it’s like my baby home. sometimes i think i was genuinely crazy coming here alone and not even knowing anything about the state nor ever seeing the university. but it was the best thing. i’m always depressed, yes, and i hate people, yes. but despite all of me being a constant emotional tragedy, i really love what i have here. it’s my own. i’ve become that person that tells you directions or tells you where to get what where. and now i’ll have to go back to someone that has to ask 89 questions and gets lost 14 times. ah, but if only i was rich and i could have it all. 

so we’re leaving,  we’re leaving our shadows behind us now we’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now

i can’t wait to go back to my place. i’ll no longer have a home to run off to for months when i don’t feel right. i’ve actually booked flights earlier than i and my family planned/expected just to jet sometimes. i always come back with my suitcase(s) and feel at home walking into my place. i know, inshallah, i’ll have that again in new york or wherever i am, but i HATE CHANGE. its such a big shift that i’m like..can we do baby steps?? i haven’t even been avoiding it for months, i’ve genuinely forgotten until like march when i had to decide on graduation stuff. and now i’ve opened my suitcase and feel like i’m doing my my clothes wrong by putting them in a suitcase to travel a state away and not a few streets. my 3 apartments have essentially been in between two streets, you see one, turn right and drive down, there’s another, turn left and then another left, drive down the road and there’s my current one, which is about two minutes from the first if you drive up a little down. it’s legit a square..but irrelevant. i know i can always come back to visit, but it won’t be the same. my social interaction meter already runs out in like 24 hours as it is then i need to come back home, imagine if i have to stay at someone’s house for like 3 days, lord. i don’t really know if it’s leaving that’s unsettling or going back knowing i won’t be fully alone from people that know me. 

(not so) tangent I: i always daydreamed of traveling to another state and getting a place there. my friend is thinking of coming from germany to practice dentistry here and we could find a place together. i know moving half way across the world for someone seems like a terrible idea, and i’ve lowkey done that coming here between states, but almost seven years of adoring each other’s existence makes you mushy and a little crazy. i feel like i’ll be awkward living with friends bc i’m such a loner, but who knows. the only thing getting her through these months of her final year in dentistry school is this idea and we’ve said inshallah every other week basically so inshallah, if it’s best for us. wild also that i knew her before she even started uni, way before she started dentistry school, like damn i hadn’t realized it’s been that long. 

ACTUAL tangent part II: late 2020/2021 was gonna be my planned travel year. rose was gonna have her dentistry school graduation in february so i was gonna go with more bouquets than my hands could hold. but before that i really wanted to see noor in like late december/january (shoutout to her getting her license i will never not be proud. am i smiling right now typing this? yes). i would find a way to not die in one of those taxis for this surprise, wait outside in the rain (if the sky allows) and play a neighbourhood song outside her window with my iphone that would get water damage and die, then i would sing it (i memorized the lyrics on the flight over, duh). point is, i wanted to see her first and also in one of the least hottest months bc although i would die for her, i’m not going out from heat stroke. thank you miss covid-19, i must postpone that to 2041. i would say i could move to dubai, but i love wearing black and not like..oh yeah..dying. with germany, (ironically enough where my cousin and i were gonna go, me for uni) i can barely speak english let alone learn another language. i wouldn’t subject anyone to murica so alternative options are encouraged. anyways, it’s like the virus knew i was an absolute loser. and it’s as if i have a bug to just keep hopping on planes to avoid having to deal with myself for more than twelve minutes. additional tangent, sometimes i think about how i’ve known noor for five years and like four of those years, we’ve spoken like every day..like how the hell do we do this??? we’ve exhausted every topic humanly possible and still find something new. imagine if we met and it was just [crickets] jhfghfg. i would say we share a braincell and she has it, but i feel like she has five at least. i always have the same tangent topic that literally should just be it’s own solo post..ANYWAYS. 

let the years we're here be kind, be kind let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide settle our bones like wood over time, over time

i’m gonna continue this later bc the tangent sent my mind in a whole different direction ,, what are thoughts

[somewhere-inthemeadow]

Ace Sherlock Holmes and Gay AF John Watson are in a happy relationship and everyone accepts them and no one questions it fanfic.

Thank you anon, see below the cut. I hope its to your liking. This was actually really validating to write and took me back to my sherlock days. I think I might go watch it again. I do apologise if anything seems a little unedited or ooc - I haven’t watched the show in months/years. (as a side note, if I was gonna title this I would probs title it something like domesticity or quiet mornings)

Send me writing requests

Sherlock slept on John’s right, curled up, still wearing his light blue dressing gown that John had draped over his shoulders the night before. His long curls covered his eyes and were frizzing up against the pillow. John made a mental note to take Sherlock for another hair cut some day as he pushed Sherlock’s hair back from his face. As John’s fingers lightly brushed against Sherlock’s skin, a happiness gathered within John. He smiled, overjoyed with how quietly happy he was to love the man in front of him, and as he did so, he traced circles along Sherlock’s neck, revelling in the electric touch of his skin.

The soft light of an early, cloudy English morning which spilled in through the open curtain gave the bedroom a warm glow, lighting up the dust in the still air before landing on the lower half of the bed. John pulled himself closer to Sherlock, and lightly placed a kiss amongst his curls. In these soft morning moments, John was able to breathe easily. He could look at his lover and love him for what he was, as he was, without the unbridled energy and mood jumps that seemed to follow Sherlock wherever he went. That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy the adventure and the breathlessness of his new life, but mere that, John felt at peace with Sherlock beside him.

Slowly, and with infinite carefulness, John matched Sherlock’s breathing, and intertwined his fingers into Sherlock’s, who breathed out softly and unfurled himself to John. Stretched to his full length, Sherlock was taller than John by a head, so that John’s feet wrapped around his calves.

They lay there for a moment in complete stillness; Sherlock deep in sleep and John breathing in time with him, unable to understand how he was so quietly happy with the curly haired man beside him. He inspected his face, memorising its every detail, committing to memory the way Sherlock’s curls reflected the morning light, and how peaceful he looked. Again, he raised his lips to the mop of hair and kissed Sherlock’s forehead.

Suddenly, softly, Sherlock breathed in out of time with the gentle rhythm of his chest and as John pulled away from his kiss, he could feel Sherlock’s eyes upon him. He smiled, and Sherlock smiled back as he slowly stretched. It was a lazy, sincere smile.

‘Good morning, John.’

‘Good morning, Sherlock,’ John replied, waiting for a haughty reply. Instead, Sherlock’s smiled widened as the pair stared at each other, hands intertwined. John was writing poetry in his head, trying to capture and explain Sherlock’s beauty to him, forgetting the lines as he wrote them. He didn’t have to say them, Sherlock knew it all. John was too much of a romantic. They had lived together too long.

‘Sherlock, I love you,’ John whispered. He had expected Sherlock to tense as he had the first time John had uttered those words, or replied with his usual ‘I know.’ But instead Sherlock was calm, and breathed out a laugh.

‘I love you too, John Watson,’ he replied, and kissed his partner on his forehead, before getting up. John flushed with colour but thankfully Sherlock was already rummaging through his wardrobe looking for a new shirt for the day. John was spared from his own hopeless romantic antics. Having found a shirt, Sherlock pulled the sheet over John. It must have fallen off during the night. 

‘You stay and rest, John, it was a big night for you,’ Sherlock said tenderly, as he slipped his dressing gown and placed it over a chair that resided in the corner of the room.

‘Sherlock, I can’t. Mycroft is visiting. His secretary called ahead yesterday. Something about your living conditions,’ John argued weakly. He was already settling back into the bed, already breathing deeply and drifting off into sleep.

Sherlock methodically removed his clothes, showered and re-dressed himself. He was not in any rush, knowing that Mycroft would already be in his lounge room when he walked down. His brother had his way with things. Sherlock sighed deeply to himself as he shaved, thinking of the reason for the visit. Sherlock’s ‘living conditions’ had been constant for years. If his brother had had an issue with him and John living together, he should have raised it at the beginning of the tenancy, not several years later. As Sherlock patted his face dry of shaving foam, he steeled himself against an onslaught of abuse he was assured was coming.

But when he entered the lounge room and came face to face with his brother’s blue-grey eyes, he was immediately aware of how non-confrontational the interaction was going to be. Mycroft stood upright and yet precarious, as though he was about to ask something that he was scared of asking.

‘Ah, Sherlock, good morning,’ Mycroft started, in his usual curt fashion. ‘I assume my secretary notified you of my arrival?’

‘Yes,’ replied Sherlock, still standing in the doorway to his lounge room. ‘Apparently my living conditions concern you.’

If Mycroft was taken aback by the venom that laced Sherlock’s words, he hid it well under a small chuckle. Both men stood their ground, though Mycroft was giving all signs to Sherlock that he was hoping for a non-aggressive discussion. Sherlock wavered a little, and waited for his brother to explain. My brother, on the other hand, took it upon himself to sit down in the chair adjacent to the fireplace, unbuttoning his shirt as he sat. There was a brief pause. Sherlock could feel the tension rise between them in the silence. Slowly, Mycroft leaned forward in his chair and interlocked his fingers; a clear invitation for Sherlock to sit. While he was hesitant to take it, Sherlock knew that his brother would not continue until he had sat.

And so he cautiously sat down, still mentally prepared to defend himself against his brother’s prejudices.

‘You can stop with the offensive, Sherlock,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘I am quite aware of the nature of your tenancy with John, and I am more than accepting of it.’ Sherlock realised he had been holding his breath, and focused on returning his breathing to normal as he waited for his brother to continue. ‘You are making this harder than in needs to be.’

Sherlock’s breath hitched at the back of his throat. There it was. The blunt beginning of a conflict. But something in him let Mycroft continue. 

‘Sherlock, you are my brother and I have supported you since you came out to Mother. I have ensured that anyone that hates you arbitrarily for who you are or who you are with is removed from your area so you do not have to deal with them. Thankfully, it has only happened once, only a very minor case.’ Sherlock knew the man his brother was referring to; a skinny man whom Sherlock had met in the morgue once and been forced to converse with when asked about his scarf. He had never seen him since. ‘Everyone who works with you, Sherlock, is supportive of you. It is 2017 for pity’s sake, why shouldn’t they be?’ Mycroft paused and looked back at his brother, as though suddenly remembering something hilarious that had been buried thoughtlessly under other memories. ‘You gave our mother such a fright,’ he laughed, ‘when you came out as asexual.’

While Mycroft continue to chuckle to himself, Sherlock replayed the moment in his head. He had it, so lost was it in his adolescence. He had sat his mother down and come out to her in the bluntest way possible, by telling her everything he knew about the subject. The word had felt so right to use and identify with, and he was scared of how his mother would respond. For her part, his mother was mostly dismissive, and at times down right aggressive. She argued that Sherlock was lying to himself and that he would eventually find the girl for him and settle down and have children. Sherlock was in his thirties now, and still no girl. Just a man, resting in the bed upstairs, the safe, warm bed with the soft light filtering through the curtains. Sherlock had not called himself asexual in years. He had not said the word in years, nor thought about it, so much had his mother’s bitterness hurt him.

But hearing it again, Sherlock knew how right the word was for him, how well it suited his experiences, how perfect it was to explain his love for John and how he interacted with the world. As he let the realisation settle over him, Sherlock smiled and relaxed into his chair. Now he knew, for some reason, that Mycroft meant no harm.

‘So did you come here merely to reminisce about my living situation that could have been? About how I turned down the brides our mother lined up with me?’ Sherlock asked, with a slight laugh in his voice.

‘Actually, while it is fun to look back on old times, I did indeed make this journey with a purpose,’ Mycroft said, his face reverting back to seriousness, but a sparkle still remaining in his eyes. ‘Sherlock, I was going to ask if you need help putting the flat in joint names and applying for tax benefits.’