#but also it marks a full year of being a legal adult and actually having rights

[90s-html-lesbians]

i’m just a few months away from being 19 wtf 🧍

#crazy esp because i feel like i’m still 17 in a lotta ways #bit apprehensive because of reasons but i’m also mostly hyped #bc wow I didn’t think i’d make it this long for many reasons #but also it marks a full year of being a legal adult and actually having rights #and it marks the start of another year of being one #and like i really can’t express how much turning 18 improved my mental health

[generalluxun]

Hey. Asking about how Chloe was abused. My knowldge of abuse is fairly limited to general pop knowledge so I'm curious as to what abuse was done to her.

Okay caveats first:

I am not a medical professional, I am simply someone with a vested interest in the topic who has done more research than the average person.

There are many definitions of abuse. Legal definitions are rarely useful, as they are limited to concrete, provable, gross violations. Just as you can inflict a lot of pain on someone without leaving the marks to prove assault, you can do a lot of damage to a child without it being legally 'provable'. Medical definitions are much more helpful for discussions.

Lastly some level of extrapolation is required as it is a show. We take what we are shown. For example:We actually only have Felix's word that he was ever abused, and his first character traits sre being deceitful and manipulative. We still take his word though, because it's a show. (And also we should give weight to victim accounts!)

So both parents are guilty in different ways. We will start with Audrey, the simpler one. There's clear verbal and emotional abuse demonstrated on screen. Mis-naming your child is a form of abuse:please ask the trans community about the impact of deadnaming even in full grown adults.

Beyond that she is constantly dismissive and belittling of her child- to the exclusion of all else. Style Queen/Queen Wasp is rife with examples. There is also the clear behavior shift in Chloé. The wheeling, approval seeking, hunched posture expecting rejection. This is a *pattern* not a one off. Audrey may live in NY, but no fashion movil would be away from Paris for 13yrs straight. We are simply seeing the most recent interaction. This culminates im a child having to ask 'Why don't you love me mother?' and the response is telling

Audrey barely chokes out the strange word when trying to contradict the question. It takes Marinette literally making them both mad at her to get a bare minimum of interaction on Audrey's part. It doesn't last though. Audrey falls back into her negation behaviors and is now present to inflict them more regularly on Chloé, while also being a constant target for/model of behavior for Chloé. (Seriously it was such a misstep to write Marinette reuniting a victim with an abuser) We know the show itself considers Audrey'ss care as a bad thing because the original script had André divorcing her and takin Zoé because Zoé 'doesn't deserve you' so Chloé being in an abusive parenting situation in Representation is supposed to be 'punishment'(ewww)

André is not off the hook either. People look at him 'spoiling' her and leave it at that. Well, 'spoiling' can in fact be abusive too. Let's look at what we see:

André has been her primary caregiver for 14 years now, so he has had the most responsibility in molding what we see for good or bad(mostly bad). She does learn from him too. Darkblade she proudly announces she learned everything about winning elections from watching her father. He's also excessively arrogant (I'm the symbol of Paris!) and quite willing to abuse his power for his own ends(having Roger round up protestors etc) which explains where Chloé learned where power is to be abused.

André is also extremely neglectful as a parent, extreeeeemely. Let's hit a bunch of points in the order they come to me.

Chloé lives *alone* in a hotel suite. There's no shared space, no family area. It's not even really her room. It's commercial, sterile. Where sre her hobbies? Posters? Even her *colors*? She is so used to being ignored at home that the girl who is loud as heck everywhere else doesn't make a single mark on her living space.

A hotel employee seems to think he needs to step in to raise Chloé. Let that sink in. An employee can see how bad it is and tried to make some kind of change, (he's working against a lifetime of ingrained behavior and is not very good at it himself). He doesn't even think to you know... Get Andre in to do this.

André was unaware or didn't care his daughter hasn't done schoolwork since Sabrina *learned to write*(5/6 yrs old) that is a shocking level of disinterest in your child. 6yr olds aren't criminal masterminds.

Andre supplants actual attention and affection with *stuff* he gives material possessions in *place* of parenting. This is somewhat similar to spoiling but not the same. André's method denies the child something vital. You see- things aren't a substitute for affection/attention, developmentally. And so while they may delight they never satisfy the need. They never validate the emotional attachment. So after the shine wears off, the hole is still there. So, like someone with an addiction, the child needs more, and more, and more. Since the needs are never met, it is never enough. And this is what the child views as *normal* this is simply *how it is*. They rarely know they are being given inadequate care because it's just life to them. Seeing something different in a one off doesn't make a dent vs a whole life.

This sort of thing makes a potent cocktail when mixed with the abandonment issues from her mother too. See- if her mother left, and daddy doesn't pay attention, anyone can leave. This leads to a cycle of pushing/demanding/hurting. The child expects to be left and let down, so they both try to reassure themselves it won't happen, and *make* it happen on their own terms (because they believe deep down it will) so more outrageous demands, because when those demands are met, it shows that you are still 'loved' and when they are not met, then there you go, you are not loved and they will leave you. It's a self-destructive spiral.

You see it play out with her interactions with her classmates and Sabrina specifically. How does she express affection? Gifts. What does she do? Push. Push and push and find the breaking point because if she can make Sabrina actually leave then it shows that she herself is worthless and her mother was right to leave her and her father is right to ignore her. Pretty messed up right? Yeah. Child abuse does horrible things to kids.

We're not done with André yet. Some people might say 'he expresses love for Chloé!' and to that I say- performatively.

André likes the idea of being a father. It's what respectable people do. It looks good on camera. It's someone to love him unconditionally. It's an ally against his wife.(broken home dynamics are horrible too) André just doesn't like having to parent for more than a snapshot.

We can see his interactions with Zoé highlight this too. He's delighted she's here!(a potential person on his side vs his wife and daughter) what's his first parenting advice? 'lock your dreams away and get on with life' A+ André.

What's he do in Queen Banana? He uses his power to let Chloé manipulate the movie *kicking Zoé out of it* This is the guy who is supposed to be supporting her? He only draws the line when it comes to sending Zoé away... Why? He doesn't want to lose an 'ally'. It's power dynamics. Not parenting. Where was he when Zoé was stuck in boarding school? He was going to keep Zoé in the divorce so clearly Mr Lee isn't in the picture, Audrey probably forgot Zoé existed, why didn't André bring Zoé to France and let the sisters grow up together? Oh, right, that might be work.

André likes Zoé because she comes pre-raised(boarding school was probably better than either parent) he doesn't have to put in work and he gets a free good kid to make him look like a father. She's his 'do over' as he throws the one he raised in the trash.

André shows his true colors when he's lamenting to Gabe about his corruption and abuse and blames ot on his 'heartless daughter' you know... The child he raised. The grown man is actually shoving his own corruption and misdeeds onto his child. You really don't need much more than that.

So, via neglect, verbal abuse, and emotional abuse the Bourgeois parents raised an incredibly messed up child. Chloé is not a 'good victim' like Adrien, she doesn't sulk quietly under abuse. She lashes out. She is hurt and angry and she passes the pain on. This is why they call it the cycle of abuse.

The end of Revolution illustrates this perfectly. Audrey throws verbal abuse at her on the plane. Angry that Chloé embarrassed her(not that she did wrong, Audrey loved the power grab) and calls her a loser by implication. You *see* it hit, the physical cringe. Then Chloé immedietely goes to try and pass on the pain. She is hurt and making someone else hurt is the only way to lessen it. She calls Marinette. Marinette breaks the cycle though, and good for her. But the show seems to have forgotten there's still one hurt child in this scene, and it doesn't seem to care.

I'm going to stop here for now. I probably left a bunch out, but I do have other things I need to do. Feel free to ask more questions. Thanks for taking the time to seek answers.

#ask #chloé bourgeois #child abuse is never okay #child abuse is not justice #andre bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #zoe lee #miraculous ladybug

[inchidentally]

https://x.com/McLarenF1_News/status/1747978653189767464?s=20 Knowing life, a certain portion of a certain driver's fanbase will use this as a dig at their favorite driver.

I do find it hilarious that this hasn't gained any traction and I actually think it's bc all Lando fans have been here before mANY times with his own quotes being misappropriated. if we went off what ad revenue based journalism says then Lando wants to personally and intimately destroy like 75% of the grid at any given moment.

I do laugh tho bc Autosport just got a big red strike against their name by Oscar's very protective team. not a great idea since it looks like they've already alienated a lot of the grid and don't get many exclusives.

but this is actually a really good example to use going forward since we're bound to get even more as the years go on...

to break down the notes in the images, the only quote from Oscar is that he personally doesn't like to tear himself down publicly but that he's very hard on himself privately. that's the only "scoop" lol. this dude at Autosport actually got Oscar on the phone and decided to bin most of the interview in favor of singling out something he could twist into a clickbait headline.

and the tweet links to a content aggregator website that itself has pulled from another article which is almost completely the Autosport guy's personal opinion about Lando and Oscar with the Oscar quote (in which he only refers to himself) and then some old quotes about Alpine and Mark Webber to stretch the ads out further.

as I said, Lando fans are used to this. he once said in this interview how lost and down he felt during his first season comparing himself with how competent Carlos was - easy as piss to suddenly decide that Carlos was of no help to Lando's mental state - and maybe harmed it!! - and that they weren't as close friends as everyone hoped! and whenever Lando's said how calm and down to earth Oscar is compared to Daniel and that Oscar and Daniel are complete opposites, super easy to decide that he's shading Daniel and they're not as close as everyone hoped! except he's fully still friends with both of them and that adults can hold opinions and also manage to NOT have some crazy subtext of drama underneath it wowwwwww

the crazy thing is that Oscar is saying exactly what a ton of Lando fans - as well as Martin Brundle and Jenson Button - have been saying about Lando's attitude toward himself during the 2023 season. I'm personally on the fence with my feelings but the popular sympathetic opinion is that Lando isn't helping himself at all with public self-flagellation and that it's only fanning the flames of people who already have it out for him. so it's truly a stretch to turn that one quote into 'ooohhhhh he's being mean to Lando' when Oscar famously avoids all public conflict after the Alpine drama and also is not wrong for not wanting his teammate and possibly friend to shit on himself so much ??

the point of sports journalism - outside maybe one or two sources who don't want to burn bridges with the 20 guys in F1 - is to create drama and generate engagement. I took the hit and loaded those pages but that's all the ad revenue I'm going to give shitty websites for at a while lgfljahfa

this is why I ignore everything except authorized sources who either legally have to run everything past the driver's reps first or who actually put up full content and not cherry picked quotes. and in Oscar's and Lando's cases anyway, that's what they both want their fans to do.

#inchreplies #wank adjacent #reference

[quohotos]

Thoughts about bonds/bonding

This was something I was already planning to write up but then the latest return to regalia episode opened the flood gates and filled in some missing pieces for me. What follows is my own educated guesses and headcannon, very little of this is explicitly in the text of the books. Understand that much of this is my own headcannon, though I'll try my best to justify it with the text.

(also note that since I was an audio book kid I don't actually know if it's spelled flyer or flier and I'm going to get it wrong more than once and you're just going to have to live with that)

Luxa says that it wasn't normal for her to bond with Aurora so early, but that an exception was made as almost a form of therapy after the death of her parents. The same exception was made for Hazard and Thalia. We aren't explicitly told how old Henry was when he bonded with Ares, but I'm assuming it was before adulthood given how all four of them (Luxa, Henry, Ares, and Arora) have a storied history before the events of the first book. Henry had to be younger than 16 when they bonded (16 being the age of legal maturity in the underland, will amend if I'm misremembering), which isn't surprising given that he's Henry and he's never played by the rules. This raises the question of the bats' ages... we aren't ever told that. I would assume that the bats are of similar ages to their bonds, but I have no evidence to back that up.

In the Marks of Secret Ripred explains that rats grow up incredibly fast and reach full maturity in about a year, and that humans are uncommon in how long they take to grow up. It's not clear how long the bats take to grow up. Would Thalia have become an adult while Hazard was still a little kid, or would they have grown up concurrently? I can't say either way. One thing I can say with more confidence is that regardless of their ages, Aurora and Ares probably see their respective bonds like younger siblings. Obviously, being bonded to someone is a completely different relationship that we can't exactly map onto what we have in the overland, but I think that's a close approximation.

So Why and How do regular people get bonded?

The most surefire way to get bonded would be to join the military (something you can do from a very young age... I mean they have armor on hand for 12 year olds and we see seven year olds doing military drills in the Prophecy of Bane... yaaaaay). In the military you will be assigned to mixed species units and it's just sort of assumed that they'll all end up pairing up and bonding.

For civilians there are likely special yearly festivals that the two kingdoms share with the express purpose of giving people a chance to find bonds. My guess would be right around the time of the harvest when there's plentiful food to go around. After a hard year a bunch of flyers come to regalia and everyone has a big party to celebrate. There are probably specially organized games of whatever sport Gregor walked in on back in the first book. While specific flyers are probably scouted for sports and more importantly the military there's still plenty of opportunities for common Regalian and flyers to interact and meet.

What does bonding do for a flyer?

We see so much of the Underland Chronicles from the point of view of royal humans. To them, the benefits are obvious. Humans can't fly, bonding gives them access to someone who can. But why would a flier seek out a human bond? That just sounds like an obligation, right?

The Regalians have incredibly advanced medical technology. I've roasted them before for their metalworking, but their chemistry/biotech is unparalleled. They're able to produce antibiotics, as well as synthesize plagues and their cures. They have ways of treating illnesses that the overland doctors (allegedly) cannot. We also see that they have incredibly reliable and safe oral administered sedatives. Anesthesiology is such and advanced and risky field, and they seem to have cracked it to the point where people can safely be sedated for trivial maters without anyone batting an eye.

The arrival of humans (as permanent residents, native people made limited journeys to there before the arrival of Sandwich) in the Underland definitely raised everyone's average life expectancy by decades... before lowering it immediately afterwards through endless wars. In Curse of the Warmbloods someone steals the pain killers and Gregor realizes that the rats couldn't even use it if they wanted to because they don't have hands to open the bottle. Much of the Regalian's medical technology still requires a human to administer it. You need humans to carve splints and set them, you need humans to administer injections, you need humans to cut hair and perform surgery. Spinners can do some things to stop bleeding, but any significantly complex medical procedure is going to need human hands involved. Think about things like glasses and prosthetics, things we don't normally associate as medicine but would still kinda are. Humans probably manufacture and prescribe bat-glasses.

For a flyer, traveling long distances without a human bond is incredibly risky. If something bad happens, even if you have other flyers with you, you could die from what would otherwise be preventable causes. Bitten by mites? Who's going to apply the the ointment? Wing dislocated, who's going to pop it back into place (this one literally happened to Aurora). There are also probably some foods that can't safely be eaten raw, but a human could prepare. Heck, a human can boil water to purify it, or place traps that catch pray that otherwise wouldn't be hunt-able. Humans can catch fish that live too deep in the water for a flyer to peruse. Humans are adaptable. Your bond is your Swiss army knife, adaptable and versatile even if sometimes fragile.

Any flier trying to pursue and education needs to be bonded. You wanna go to bat-college? You gotta bring a human. You'll need one to transcribe all your essays and help you read books. The fliers definitely have a rich oral history that they all maintain, but there are some things that you just need a human to access. The average flier probably doesn't have a bond, but the higher in status definitely do for the educational purposes alone. While the queen herself doesn't have a bond, in fact it seems almost frowned upon in the royal family (Nike doesn't have one despite getting very close to a human who would like to bond with her in the later books), you bet your ass that every middle manager and local bat official has a bond who takes care of paperwork and accounting.

It's a funny parallel how flyers of low status like Ares can suddenly be whisked into royalty by being bonded to Henry, the same thing probably happens to humans. You could be Joe Shmo nobody (or I guess this is the underland so Joeth Shmavetus) who would probably live out their whole life carving stone jars, but you do numbers good so the bat-secretary of bat-state bonds with you and now you're really important.

That means that there are probably lots of places within the flyers lands that are built specifically to house humans long term. We see a little bit of that in the first book, but there's probably a lot more out of sight. Special areas where an important fliers' bonds can live and do their taxes and whatnot.

Bonding is usually an egalitarian process. It seems like both sides and both factions have to consent to it. When Gregor insinuates that one side owns the other he gets massive push-back. With that being said, I'm almost certain that Ares had little control in the matter over bonding with Henry. I think there's kind of an unstated rule that the royal families are going to bond with whoever they please, and that turning down a bond of high status would be a massive faux pas. Ares probably didn't feel like saying no was even on the table.

What about non-flyer bonds?

Oh yeah, code of claw spoilers beyond this point. Now that everyone's doing the reread and we're probably bringing a few first time readers into the fold I'm going to spoiler mark this part just in case since I'll be discussing things that happen in the last installment

Luxa and Ripred bond to usher in peace. This is treated as something that has never happened before but that the rules don't explicitly forbid. Henry jokes about people bonding to the crawlers, but in a way that portrays it as stupid and pathetic rather than impossible. In doing so she also symbolically brings the Gnawer into the spiritual fold that the flyers and humans already share.

Humans and Gnawers would then be allowed to bond with each-other. It might take generations for that to happen in earnest, sicne both sides have so much trauma and resentment built up, but maybe decades in the future the younger generations will find it in themselves to do so.

The fact that Luxa bonding with Ripred doesn't break her bond with Aurora sets the precident that you can bond with as many people as you want so long as you never have two of one species. I do not think Aurora is that happy about that, and I doubt she sees Ripred as her own bond. It's possible though, that in the future you could have big groups of underlanders who are all united by one bond. A whole bad batch rogues gallery of a flyer, a gnawer, a human, and a nibbler who each bring something special to the group.

Though never explicitly stated, I think it probably goes without saying that Hamnet and Frill were bonds. It definitely wasn't done the proper way, probably just informally in the jungle with nobody else observing, but still. A bond is a bond.

#the underland chronicles fanart #tuc #gregor the overlander #tuc lore #tuc fan theory #tuc discussion #tuc spoilers #return to regalia #return to regalia podcast

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 4: the rhythm of the night

Holaaaaa otra vez!! Niko here again, back with another blog for week 4 of studying abroad in Madrid! This week marked my official first month in the city, which means that I’m 1 month down of 3.5 (or 2/9ths of the way through). I wonder how my perspective of the city and life here will have changed by the 4/9 point, by 8/9 point, and when I’m finally gone. I guess we’ll both have to wait to find out ;).

This week, February 13th, was my birthday. I turned 21 years old — which is a pretttty big deal in the United States. 21 is like the final frontier of birthdays. After that, anything (except for renting a car, for some reason) (and also running for president) is possible. Order a beer? Done. Get into a club? No problem. Is it weird to me that we can join the military before those things? Yes, but I don’t know enough about the prohibition era to make a substantial claim on the laws we have in the USA.

Being that it was a Tuesday and I wasn’t quite in the partying mood, I went out for a nice dinner with a friend and bought myself churros for the walk home -- perfect birthday tbh. However, an American in America turning 21 will typically go out, buy alcohol legally, get into some bars with their actual ID (maybe Rick’s for my UMich people, which is finally on-limits :0 ), and likely get very very drunk with their friends. In Spain, that doesn’t happen for 21 year olds — or 18 year olds, for that matter.

I think that the basic differences in drinking culture between the USA and Europe are somewhat well known. To generalize: binge drinking is much less common in Europe; people may drink more but pace themselves out over the course of many hours; people start partying late and stay out much later. However, living in Spain and experiencing the nightlife firsthand has given me a new understanding of this culture — and I’ve found that it’s a rhythm I really enjoy.

An Aside on Work-life Balance

In Madrid, the people place a lot of value on social life — which lasts throughout adulthood. I think that in the United States, social life ends up giving way to work for many adults as they get older and their career becomes more demanding. In Spain, people subscribe moreso to the ideal of “working to live” instead of “living to work”.

This is a generalization, but I think it’s a fair one to make in comparison to the culture of the USA. This perspective may be a product of the bubble I live in as a student studying abroad, but the "competitive, always-searching-for-the-next-opportunity, never-staying-complacent (satisfied?)-with-your-current-position" vibe is something I have not yet felt or witnessed here. I think that difference can be explained in part by the USA's strong capitalistic nature (and Europe's slightly more socialist environment), but I'm no expert ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

I don’t think that I want to subscribe fully to either ideal.

I don’t want my work to be my life. I think that I value a lot of things higher than money — relationships, new experiences, personal growth — and that's where I want to focus. However, working is an unavoidable part of life for (almost) everyone. I think that treating the idea of work as a career — something to be developed, something to find passion in, something that adds to your life instead of taking away from it — will enable me to live a happier life. And, to become truly satisfied in my career, I’m gonna have to put in that effort.

I think that the key to maintaining a healthy relationship towards work is deriving that hard-work mentality from within, instead of from the pressure of outside influences (living up to expectations, competition with others, greed, etc). In this way, achievements will be something I can be proud of myself for -- especially because I did those things in alignment with my own contentment and happiness. Admittedly, this conclusion is spoken from my "very wise" position of having had only 1 full time internship and a few part time service jobs, but this is where I'm at with my experience pursuing a college degree. Guess we'll see how it turns out down the road.

Nightlife

Anyways, back to partying in Madrid. House parties don’t really exist like the do in the USA, or frankly, at all. This is partly because there’s an ordinance that prohibits loud noises indoors at night, and partly because there’s no need for them — there’s a seemingly infinite amount of bars and clubs to go to, on every night of the week (yes, including Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday). 

First, you’ll have dinner, shared with a group of friends and never earlier than 8pm — usually closer to 10pm. Pregames (previas) might happen at someone’s apartment, they might happen on the street, either on the way to the club or in a group just chilling (botellon). In general, (especially with young people), as much alcohol as possible is consumed outside of the club, for economical reasons. A beer bought at the corner store is half the price and twice the size than at the bar. The streets in Madrid, especially on the weekend, are always lively. Simply walking around popular areas is an energizing feeling.

If you’re going out dancing to a club, you might also hit a few bars beforehand, which are more commonly frequented a bit earlier in the night - 12am ish is peak.

Like I mentioned previously, things also start late. A club will not be in full swing until 3am. If you arrive to a club at 12 (which is when most of them open), you’ll be dancing alone on the floor. This is in stark contrast to the USA, where at 3am, you might be dancing alone because everyone else has already gone home. Things will start to wind down around 5am on weekends, and a dedicated group will still be around at 6am when the lights turn on to kick everybody out.

Personally, I love this rhythm. Starting so late, you get a full day in beforehand — and much more time with friends spent during the night. Drinks are consumed slowly, and far fewer will end up on the toilet at the end of the evening. Things feel more relaxed, less like we're on a time crunch — probably because there’s simply more time to party.

I’ve only got one big qualm in comparison to the USA — sleep. If you’re out until 6am on Saturday, you’re probably sleeping until 3pm at the earliest. Which kind of throws off your Sunday. If you were looking to grab brunch, or god forbid be productive, forget it. But maybe, a loss of productivity isn't such a big deal. I would love to hear from you all what you feel about the work/productivity culture in the USA, and how you perceive (or have experienced) it in different cultures.

So, needless to say, I have been partying a good amount, and I think I’ve been doing so in a pretty authentically Spanish way. I’ll spare details on my escapades, but I’ll include some pictures (along with some more in depth descriptions) that may give a little insight into the ~vibes~. I’m a big fan of electronic music, and Madrid’s scene for that is vast.

For anyone reading this that’s going to Madrid sometime soon — either for studying abroad, vacation, or whatever else — I’ve been putting together this list of all the nightlife sites I’ve gone to, with little descriptions on my thoughts accompanying each one. I hope it serves at least a few people well, and spares them the work of finding the places that are a little less obvious to non-natives.

Hope everyone has a fantastic week! :)

Hasta luego,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEUC3M #NikoEconomos #IPEWinter24 #Spain

[college-girl199328]

DeSantis' general counsel sent a letter earlier this week to State Attorney Monique Worrell seeking documents and emails about the prior arrests and prosecution decisions involving 19-year-old Keith Moses, both as a juvenile and an adult. Juvenile records are typically kept private in Florida.

The request from the governor’s office comes as DeSantis fights against what he calls “woke” prosecutors, bolstering his conservative criminal justice platform ahead of an expected run for president.

DeSantis last year removed State Attorney Andrew Warren, a twice-elected Democrat in Tampa, over his signing of pledges that said he would not pursue criminal charges against seekers or providers of abortion or gender transition treatments, as well as policies about not bringing charges for certain low-level crimes.

A lawyer for the families of the slain girl and the reporter said DeSantis and Republican U.S. Sen. Rick Scott, who has also scrutinized Worrell over Moses' criminal history, appear to be exploiting the deaths for their political agendas.

“The families believe this all smells and smacks of political opportunism, by both DeSantis and Scott, and it is appalling to them,” attorney Mark NeJame said at a news conference Thursday in Orlando.

During the news conference, members of the families hugged each other and cried. They described the victims as, respectively, a compassionate storyteller and a little girl with a big heart who loved gymnastics.

"I'm sorry to miss her so much! She was the best little girl!" T'yonna Major's mother, Brandi Major, sobbed before leaving the room after being overwhelmed by emotion.

Spectrum News 13 reporter Dylan Lyons' father, Gary Lyons, said he was “shocked” that neither DeSantis nor Scott "had taken 30 seconds out of their time" to reach out to his family to convey they were sorry for their loss. The family has heard from other political leaders, he said.

In the letter to Worrell, whose jurisdiction covers the Orlando area, DeSantis general counsel Ryan Newman said her office failed to hold Moses accountable, “despite his extensive criminal history and gang affiliation.”

The letter noted that Moses was arrested during a traffic stop in November 2021 for cannabis possession. According to a police report, a deputy witnessed a gun being thrown out of the car window as it was being pulled over. The three occupants had ski masks and past firearm charges, including Moses who was on juvenile felony probation.

The Orange County Sheriff's Office deputy charged Moses with a drug offence and not a firearm offence. The case was dismissed the following month after prosecutors concluded it wasn't suitable to pursue.

“Moses should never have been in a position to commit those senseless crimes last week,” Newman's letter said.

In response, Worrell said the letter from the governor's office was full of misconceptions. There wasn't conclusive evidence that Moses was illegally in possession of marijuana, said Worrell.

“The suggestions and accusations that my office’s ‘policies’ promote crime are empty political statements unsupported by actual facts,” Worrell said in a statement.

Moses is facing three first-degree murder charges for last week's fatal shootings of Lyons, Major, and Nathacha Augustin. Also shot were the girl's mother and Spectrum News 13 photographer Jesse Walden.

In his executive order suspending Warren, the Tampa prosecutor, DeSantis cited state law that allows him to remove officials for neglect of duty and incompetence.

In all cases, Warren has applied prosecutorial discretion to determine whether charges should be brought based on pledges to personal political positions. He has launched a legal battle in federal and state courts to get his job back.

[bad4amficideas]

IMAGINE SOULMATE AU (mark/tattoo, 1st contact) + YANDERE AU WITH THE BATBOYS

Gotham catch 'em all! 5am so so sorry

Edit: this is a concept, a sketch not an actual full developed story. I.MA.GI.NE. not drabble. Not oneshot. Imagine (Like you can and write in base of this, like pleaseandthank you!) (Also I'm not English tysm)

TERMS:

Canvas: noun, soulmate mark, looks like a UV tattoo. If you born with it, their appareance is a miniature which grow with you without deforming but actually get detailed (so no babies getting their marks in databases)

The Brush: noun, when you touch your soulmate for first time and your mark get colored

Painting: noun, colored canvas, which is supposed to turn into a colorful, maybe even metallic one, otherworldy for sure. Also used to refer to people who have found their soulmates.

Tear, teared: Used especially as an adjective, refers to the ugly scar/burn that remains where once was the canvas when the soulmate dies

Easel: noun, in modern times a derogatory term, person without a canvas, although some people are born without them because such souls haven't yet been born. (Yes, weasel word plays are a thing)

Imagine being another common girl in Gotham City. Your dream is to get enough money to get out or failing that, move to a "quiet" area (whatever gothamites understand as quiet).

In a lottery one, maybe find your soulmate. But since chances of finding one's soulmate are low-non existant (until point people tend to obsess if they find theirs and if your soulmate rejects you, well... legally they have the upper hand, can you believe it?? Whats this an omegaverse wtf???), that's only a nice dream and you're fine with getting only one of the two previous options and daydream with the later at a stable non-weirds-chemicals-involved-please job.

Your canvas is apparently some really pretty drawed little bird, signed by IIIIIIV. When you were little your dad play with you saying maybe they would be an ornithologist, naturalist or artist. Even when your parents weren't soulmates, they didn't want rip your dreams. But as a young adult, now you know the Brush and Paintings are things you could heard only on TV, and everyone knew media is misleading at best.

As the Wayne boys side, since they have spent a lot together, wounded and naked more or less willingy, although canvas are something private, they end up seeing each other's and realizing that theirs are identical. I pretend that Y/N representation in their body is a common female bird colored of reader choice clinging to a branch (like a robin is a common bird, if you think about it) and sometimes they hypothetically talk about her as (insert Dick begins this and it stucks better than a Disney song): babybird, duckling, birdie, lovebird, little dove, sparrow, angel, swan, songbird.

You are just one of the many girls in Gotham, you repeat yourself everyday as you do put make-up upon your canvas, over your heart. And canvas et all are something private, surely it isn't something unique. Tear, lines again, tear, reappear, but never all the canvas, only parts, you remember how your little bird spent a couple of years with part of his chest (now you're sure is a him) scarred until the lines were redrawn, then the upper-end was the scarred one, then head for a few moments?, the rest of the torso gone for moments was a recent one... You weren't the brightest pea in the pod (although apparently you were the best sperm). But, bird. Bird. Robin. And that every time you blinked there was one Vigilante more with that fucking name (although your favorite was the girl ofc! stick together!). But. BUt. BUT! Which of all of them was your soulmate and why had his head, legs, heart been ripped off and who knows what at one time or another?

You will later find your painting was a kind of watercolored robin with black eyes, beaks and legs. From its head to tail, the ussually grey upper body part was a gradient from blue to green, while its lower part did the same with red and yellow. You found it was not IIIIIIV but I (blue) II (red) III (yellow) V (green) because the now black numbers were splattered of color.

And all those rumors of who new hero/vigilante was previously "x" Robin it... maybe you were guilty or not of reading RealPeopleFictionxReader phase when young, but, Wayne and Relatives and the Batfam... nana, nana... naaaa?... right??

No way you were going to get close to those celebrities, as an attentionphobe and gothamite born, like you got all right, thank you, your instincts of self-preservation, and spending your adolescence scars on-off wasn't good for your heart... soul? So you knew you couldn't allow any of them be your soulmate (even when ofc none of then could and never would be yours). Plus even without the obvious association your mind may had or not done, you must be mental to want to be around either one, the BatFam or the Wayne Household.

Timeskip. You were finally at the University/College, studying what you want. You didn't get the waitress job. How did everyone get a waitress job except you? (on the other hand, maybe the universe was doing you a favor and you shouldn't complain) You work was cleaning in a hotel and thanks for that (even if it stinks and your hands were always sore and the bleach smell was always under your poor nose).

Especially since as a mediocre person your parents did not abuse you, although sometimes their extroversion and your introversion clashed but they did not die, tragically or not. They weren't heroes, vigilantes, or villains or a wanna be of neither. They love and care for you, they support you in college. You paid yourself the campus to start leaving the nest and finally let yourself love them... a little more far away (plus your old home was very far both work and class).

But one night, when "insert villain of your choice" (Scarecrow surely so Y/N acts seems reasonable) attack the hotel where you work and you run away the moment you hear Batman AND (which, dear, is suspicious, don't you think?) Batman intercepts you, but obviously a scared little bird like you cannot be anyone's accomplice, hostage at best, a victim?

You murmur, anxiety and/or fear increasing, something like no birds please no birds, I'm a good person, I swear, swear, only no birds, please, you give him your hotel ID and fly away uniform et all before "AND" arrives. No reader of mine will act coherently under pressure, never, unless they have been trained to do so or they had a hard life previously recognized.

You only go out for classes and work and your ID is in your hotel locker back on your next work day. You know that there are two Wayne boys studying at the same time as you (Damian, having skipped courses at Gotham Academy and also to be a meany to Tim, and said boy Tim, who needs to stop skip classes to favour vigilantism), but you don't meet any of them (as you have been able to do so far since the screams from their fans when they decide to attend classes are a great clue. They are likethe Gotham Kardashians you swear). After a month you think you can finally turn off the radar.

In fact, that night Batman kept your ID on his belt and investigated you in private. Was while rumming that either Damian or Tim found out and told the rest. And, hey, in principle they were only trying to get closer in their civil way because OBVIOUSLY you had nothing special in the record, and B. had close your case (without sealing it or give hits signaling you hide something, like if he was checking another victim of another attack even though nobody of them had seen you in one).

But why are you so scared of the definitely not so kids Wayne's? ok, you don't like to attract attention, you enjoy quality before quantity, and of its true Jason bulky built if you don't know him and Damian grumpy face can be intimidating... But after all the pantomime that the older brothers mounted in the door, attracting the glances so that either Damian or Tim would enter one of the seminars that they could pick and share with you, maybe get a seat near you, and you would look at them as if Scarecrow had thrown fear gas at you... they end stalking you, choosing you although their conscious part refuses to acknowledge that, you are still just a case, one on whom they don't mind spending large amounts of free time... but a "case".

Okay, let's say you keep you composure at the end. Then I'm sorry but they get close to you it's at least two against one. If not that day will be the next one or the next to that, they would sneak their way to you and you can't run. Greeting is polite. You must give thanks they pitied your introverted being and accounting Waynes shit so they are being subtle and you don't have middle campus with the popcorn.

ORRRRRR, let's say you manage to dodge them. For how long? without making a fuss? without being cornered and touched/grabbed without your consent?

"... Babybird. Babybird. Did you know and still you've been flying away from us?"

There I was, despising myself while tried written and then I remembered, do you know how most female birds are so dull in contrast to the male ones? I daydream a yandere+ soulmate au only to raise my spirits. Also background for a Porn without Plot YandereRobins x Reader if I ever wrote one 🤣

Edit: Damian is V (5) because in this story Stephanie Brown is the 4th (IV) Robin.

#batboys x reader #dc x reader #soulmate au #yandere batboys x reader #👾.txt #yandere red robin x reader #yandere red hood x reader #yandere nightwing x reader #yandere robin x reader #in this house we yahey! isekaied!reader

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Magic is legal, Arthur knows The Truth and Merlin is... shit at explaining things:

Arthur demands a trip to visit the Druids, who are far more qualified than Merlin, so they can explain this whole... destiny thing.

I’ve written a lot of angst and Hurt!Merlin recently, so I just wanted to write something short and sweet and fluffy :)

SO.

Magic has been legalised, Merlin is Court Sorcerer, all the knights are alive and happy, Morgana is good, and the only thing Arthur has to worry about right now is what the hell to do about the rapidly growing crush he has on his BestFriend™.

After the dust had settled, Merlin had tried to sit Arthur down and tell him the whole story; all about Emrys, and the prophecies, and destiny. The King already knew about Merlin’s magic, and roughly how powerful he is, but that’s it.

But Merlin went so long barely mentioning it at all, not even to Gaius or Morgana or Lancelot, that he’s still not entirely sure what to say. Years of hiding and lying and trying desperately not to think about it, mean his brain now blanks when he tries to explain it.

After far too long of Arthur looking on confusedly whilst Merlin rambled on about dragons and coins and mental links and names, The Court Sorcerer gave up, and decided to just not bother.

Arthur, of course, decided that giving up was stupid, and made the executive decision that they would just go to the Druids, and someone who actual knew what they were talking about could explain it thoroughly. Maybe even allow Arthur to read the original prophecies.

Plus, it turned out that Initiating a Golden Age took quite a lot of work, so neither of them had had a chance to leave the city for weeks. They could do with the fresh air. And if Arthur saw it as a good chance to be properly alone with Merlin for more than half a candle mark? No one else needed to know, least of all Merlin.

~

It was a pleasant journey through the woods. The silences comfortable, and the conversations easy and filled with smiles.

Magic had only been legalised for about a fortnight, and after over twenty years of fear, magic users were still understandably cautious, meaning the closest Druid camp was still a two days ride away.

But that wasn’t a problem. With Merlin now able to use his magic openly, and therefor more able to defend his King, he found he was far less anxious about the trip outside the city than he would’ve been before. And if his good mood bled into the environment around them? Well... it was spring... surely no one would notice the extra flowers and abundance of butterflies?

(Arthur definitely noticed. But Merlin was still... wary, of performing sorcery openly, in fear of scaring the people who had been sucked in by two decades of propaganda and fear-mongering. Meaning Arthur sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped.)

It was around noon, and the sun was shining down on them when Merlin pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounts effortlessly, and hands a confused Arthur his reins. At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Merlin sighs and speaks quietly:

“The camp is about two minutes further on but... the change in the law was only recent, and...-”

He bites his lip and looks away, worrying Arthur slightly, before continuing:

“-well, chainmail and red capes still make them a little nervous. I’ve already warned their leader that we’re coming-”

He taps his temple briefly:

“-but I should go ahead and explain properly.”

Arthur nods in understanding, and gives Merlin a comforting smile:

“I completely understand, Merlin. How long do you want me to wait, or will you come back to get me?”

Merlin returns his smile, before saying:

“Just wait ten minutes then follow me, straight down the path. Bring the horses, there’ll be somewhere to tie them there. You shouldn’t run into any trouble this close to a camp, but you do have a track-record so-”

Merlin laughs at Arthur’s indignant expression, but continues before he can interrupt him:

“-if you do, just yell. We won’t be too far away, we’ll hear you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and shoos Merlin away. The Warlock laughs as he turns and continues down the path on foot. Just before he disappears behind a large bush, he turns around again, a slightly concerned expression on his face:

“I might look a bit... different? But don’t mention it, they’re quite fond of me... uh... dressing the part.”

Arthur huffs out a laugh before saying:

“I’m sure I won’t forget what you look like in ten minutes, Merlin. Go.”

Merlin hums thoughtfully, and turns back around, disappearing into the trees and leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

After a few moments, he removes his cloak, tucking it into a saddlebag. He also, after only a little hesitation, removes his sword, strapping it to his saddle. It was still visible and easily within reach, but not so threateningly on display at his hip.

He was entering these people’s home, after personally wielding the sharp edge of their persecution for almost a decade; the least he could do was make them as comfortable as possible.

He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Merlin, but he had a feeling that this meet was going to end up being about more than the prophecies. Peace had been harboured, magic had been legalised, but like Merlin had pointed out, things were still a little tense. This meeting was a way to show the Druids that Arthur meant it, that his whole heart was behind this change. The he was not his father.

Arthur was a little nervous (not that he’d ever admit that), this was important. Not just to him and the kingdom, but to Merlin personally. He had to get this right. One of the only things that Arthur had managed to get out of Merlin, to do with the whole destiny thing, was that it was finished. It was done.

If Arthur messes this up, not only will it ruin the peace they had been working so hard for... then Merlin might leave. He has no reason to stay after-all, he’s done his job. So Arthur has to get this right, has to impress everyone, now more than ever, because if he fails and the Druids all leave Camelot, then Merlin would leave with them.

And that thought was... unbearable.

He counts down the minutes, getting more and more tense. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what Merlin had said, “dressing the part” what does that even mean?

But it doesn’t work. Soon enough his brain is throwing thought after paranoid thought at him, about all the possible ways Merlin could tell Arthur he hated him, and leave forever and ever.

Arthur rubbed his eyes harshly, muttering to himself about how he really should’ve accepted the “relaxing tea” Gaius had offered him before they left. Other than Merlin, the old physician is the only one who ever seems to know what he needs in the moment, Arthur should definitely learn to listen to him more.

He finally reaches zero in his mental countdown, and sighs before standing from where he’d sat on a fallen log. He’d allowed the horses to wander a bit but they were trained to stay close by, so he has no problem gathering their reins again and leading them slowly down the path Merlin had followed.

All Druid camps were different. Some moved around constantly, some stayed fairly still. Some were huge, acres large with hundreds of people, others were small, only ten people or so. Some were occupied by mostly the sick and elderly, others were full of the young and adventurous, and others were family orientated.

And of course it was rare, according to Gaius, that someone would stay in the same camp their whole life. The Druids were a nomadic people, always shifting, drifting, wandering. Following a constantly tugging thread in their hearts, going where nature beckoned them.

According to Merlin, this specific camp was pretty small (around twenty adults) but it was also a fairly familial group, meaning lots of children. And if that didn’t make Arthur nervous (it definitely did) then nothing would.

Arthur didn’t have much experience with children, and definitely had no concept of how to act around them, especially Druid children.

After about a minute of walking, Arthur could hear loud laughter and quiet conversations floating through the trees. He slowed his pace; trying to appear unthreatening and friendly, or to delay the inevitable, he’s not quite sure.

He finally breaks through the treeline to see that... no one is even looking in his direction.

It was the middle of the day, so the camp was busy, people milling about everywhere, most of the tents open, various jobs getting done throughout the clearing.

But what immediately drew Arthur’s eye, was the source of the laughter.

The King looked across the clearing to see Merlin, in a whole new wardrobe, and a whole new light.

The man had changed from his simple travellers clothes (basically the clothes he’d worn as a manservant, just a bit newer and cleaner.) into a loose, white, lace up shirt (sleeves rolled up, which Arthur absolutely did NOT find himself staring at, thank you very much.) paired with slim black trousers.

But what was most striking, was the deep blue cloak billowing behind him, and the silver crown on his head. It was delicate, as if forged with vines and leaves and feathers, but it was oh so Merlin.

Arthur stayed at the edge of the clearing, glad that no one had noticed him; allowing him to stare in reverence at his best friend.

He was surrounded by young children, all laughing joyously as his eyes glowed golden and he waved his hands around. He needn’t mutter spells as he smiled widely, willing butterflies and bees to manifest in the air around him.

One of the younger children held his arms in the air and made grabbing motions with his hands. Merlin bent over and pulled him up into the air without a moment of hesitation, spinning him around on the spot (much to the kid’s enjoyment, who giggled outrageously), before settling him on his hip.

He used one hand to support the kid’s weight (when did Merlin get so strong??), and used the other to summon flowers around the feet of the rest of the children.

A fond smile spread across Arthur’s face as he saw them run around exuberantly, gathering the flowers in chubby hands to present to parents and siblings and friends.

Arthur laughed softly as he saw Merlin reply enthusiastically to something that the boy on his hip had said, and a second later, the child had a butterfly perched on the end of his nose. 

Arthur is broken from his concentration, jumping a foot in the air when a soft hand lands on his shoulder from behind.

He whips his head around, just about managing to stop himself from yelping and reaching for where his sword usually is at his hip.

He calms his breathing as his eyes find the friendly face of a Druid, an amused smile on his face. Arthur returns his smile, a tad shakily, suddenly feeling the nerves again, and nods his head respectfully.

The man keeps his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, but looks towards Merlin in the clearing, before softly saying:

“He’s quite something, your Emrys, isn’t he?”

Arthur gulps, also looking back at Merlin as he replies with a chuckle that was only slightly forced:

“He’s more yours than mine, especially like this, but yes, he is something special.”

The Druid laughs disbelievingly, and Arthur turns to look, a confused expression on his face as he listens to his reply:

“Definitely not. He’s always belonged to you more than he’s belonged to us-”

He stops laughing to look at Arthur, eyes sparkling with friendly mirth as he continues:

“-prophecy or no, he had a... well... a pre-carved place among the Druids, but he still chose to carve his own space by your side. I think that speaks volumes about where he truly belongs, or at least where he wants to belong, don’t you?”

Arthur doesn’t really have a response to that as he stares at the man with barely concealed bafflement, but luckily, before the silence stretches too long, the Druid gestures to the clearing:

“Come. Everyone is excited to meet you, though I warn you, the children in this camp can be rather energetic, as you’ve already seen.”

Arthur gulps and nods, following him into the centre of the camp.

Everyone’s attention is quickly caught by The King’s presence, and someone comes over to wordlessly take the horse’s reins from him.

The adults bow their heads slightly in respect, giving him soft smiles, and the children fidget on the spot, wide grins on their faces as they whisper conspiratorially to each other.

The boy in Merlin’s arms wiggles, and he gets put down. He rushes over to Arthur, grabbing his hand with a toothy grin and dragging him over to Merlin and the other children.

Merlin hides a laugh behind his hand as Arthur’s eyes widen, and his face goes pale. He thought this was going to be meetings and serious discussions and apologies, not playing with children!! What do children even like?! Swords?? Can he talk to them about swords??! Druids are pacifists right? So probably not??

He gets pulled down to crouch, and the children crowd him, all babbling at once, wildly showing him flowers and butterflies.

Merlin laughs at his bewildered fear for a few moments, before he crouches next to Arthur and holds his hands up, saying loudly:

“Alright, alright, you lot. Remember what I said?”

The children still, and a chorus of “Yes Lord Emrys” resounds from the group. With that, they stay silent, but still grin widely and bounce on the spot in excitement.

Arthur gives Merlin a stressed, but grateful smile, before looking back to the children. He takes a deep breath, before smiling at them, and saying:

“My name’s Arthur. Thank you for having me, I appreciate your hospitality.”

Merlin snorts at his overly formal tone, and has to stop himself laughing at the shock and fear on Arthur’s face when one of the younger ones loudly asks:

“What’s hosp-ee-tal-it-ee?”

Arthur furrows his brows, but luckily one of the teenagers steps in, quietly saying:

“It’s when someone comes into your home, and you’re nice to them.”

Arthur smiles and nods, and Merlin chuckles in amusement.

Thankfully (for Arthur) Merlin then stands and announces to the children that it’s lunch time, and to get washed up. They all rush off, and Arthur lets out a breath as he stands.

Merlin holds in yet another laugh, but tilts his head in confusion as Arthur’s gaze is once again drawn to the crown that rests on Merlin’s unruly hair.

Merlin flushes slightly when he realises what Arthur is looking at, looking to the floor and mumbling:

“You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to just call me Merlin, but then they presented me with this a few months ago and I could hardly say no, could I?”

Arthur nods as Merlin looks up again, meeting his gaze. There’s a soft smile on his face, one that Merlin isn’t quite sure what to make of as he quietly replies:

“Hmm. Looks good on you.”

Merlin makes a surprised noise and his eyes go wide, the flush on his cheeks deepening as Arthur laughs gently at him.

Arthur puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, his thumb brushing against the skin of his neck in a way that was slightly more than friendly, but Merlin doesn’t pull away, so Arthur leaves his hand there as he looks around the bustling camp.

His smile falls into something more sad, and Merlin frowns at him curiously:

“Arthur? What is it?”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, not looking back at Merlin as he replies, almost whispering:

“Nothing. It’s just, last time I was this far into a Druid camp... I did terrible things. Look at this place, how could I ever have believed that magic was evil? It’s beautiful here.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, but before he can reply, a small hand tugs at Arthur’s sleeve, and the two of them look down suddenly to see one of the boys from before. He wore a confused expression, and whispered, as if he knew this was meant to be a secret conversation:

“What terrible things did you do, Mr King Sir?”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp and widens his eyes, but before he can tell him off or lie, Arthur squeezes his shoulder, and crouches down in front of the child.

Arthur gives the boy a smile, and takes his hands, quietly saying:

“Well. When I was young, I was taught some things that are wrong, I didn’t question them, and because of that I did some really bad things. I thought I was being a good person, but actually I was being a bad person because I didn’t do my own research, and I didn’t know any better. But then I started learning how to be better, and now I do everything in my power to be an actual good person.-”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a small smile on his face, before looking back down to the boy, who is hanging on to his every word:

“-Your Emrys is helping me with that. You see, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, and he’s helping me be more like him.”

Arthur resists the urge to look back at Merlin as he feels a firm, but shaky hand on his back, and instead looks at the child as he thinks over Arthur’s words. His face breaks into a grin, and Arthur returns the smile as the boy says:

“He’s the best isn’t he? I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

Arthur ruffles his hair, and replies quietly:

“Yeah kid, me too.”

The boy gives him a toothy grin, before running off once again, and Arthur lets out yet another breath he had been holding before standing up.

Merlin’s hand remains on his shoulder, and Arthur regrets meeting his gaze the moment he turns his head. But he also can’t rip his eyes away from the teary expression of awe and bewildered happiness on his face.

Merlin lets out a gentle laugh at Arthur’s apprehensive face before shaking his head, and looking back at him once again, this time amusement on his face:

“The best person you’ve ever met, huh?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and blushes deeply, pushing Merlin’s hand off his shoulder as he mumbles a flustered:

“Shut up, Merlin. I could hardly tell him the truth, could I?”

Merlin hums thoughtfully and replies with laughter in his voice:

“Hmm. That makes more sense, of course.”

Without waiting for Arthur’s reply, he grabs the King’s wrist and drags him towards a large tent in the corner of the clearing. Inside were two tables, one large, and one smaller and lower, both surrounded by benches.

Merlin directed them to bowls in the corner so they could wash their hands, before they sit at the larger of the two tables. Everyone over the ages of about fourteen joins them, the younger ones going to the smaller table.

Food appears, covering the surface, summoned from the cooking pots outside and the various food stores around the camp. Arthur tries to keep the wonderment off his face, but knows he failed miserably when he hears Merlin chuckle beside him. He punches Merlin’s leg under the table playfully, but that only makes him laugh harder.

He quietens when the man sat opposite Arthur stands:

“Today we have two honoured guests, our Lord Emrys, and the Once and Future King Arthur. We share our home, our food, and our welcome, for as long as they wish to stay. We raise our goblets to you, My Lords.”

At that, he raises his cup in the air, everyone else in the tent following him. Merlin smiles and nods at him, raising his own cup, and Arthur nervously copies his movements, comforted by Merlin’s reassuring hand on his knee.

With that, the Druid sits down, and conversation breaks out around the tent as everyone begins to eat.

Merlin handles most of the discussions, talking to everyone as if they were life long friends. Arthur is grateful for that, he answers any questions sent his way, asking a few polite ones in return, but Druid culture is so different to life in the city and Arthur doesn’t really know what he should be talking about.

Thankfully, the meal passes quickly, and after another announcement from the man Arthur now presumed was the leader here, the crowd dispersed, everything being cleared away with magic.

Not every Druid practiced sorcery, but they were clearly in a magic-heavy camp; Arthur could see it plain as day, everywhere he looked.

Merlin once again took Arthur’s wrist, leading him out into the sun. Usually, Arthur hated being led places, especially by the hand, but he found he didn’t quite mind it today. Whether it was because they were in Merlin’s domain, and Merlin was King here, or because of how nervous he was, or because of some other reason entirely, Arthur wasn’t sure, and frankly, he didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

This time, Merlin led them to another, smaller tent.

It had several comfortable looking chairs around a smallish circular table, which was covered in scrolls and parchments and old-looking books.

A few seconds later, they were joined by the Druid leader; he smiled softly at them and gestured for them to sit at the table. Merlin and Arthur sat next to each other, and the Druid kindly pretended not to notice them shuffling the chairs closer together.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, Arthur having lost his nerves fairly early in the conversation. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that official meetings were his specialty, or maybe it was because Merlin’s hand once again found his knee, but stayed there this time. Who knows.

The Druid had introduced himself, and once more welcomed Arthur to the camp, before launching into explanations of the prophecies and destinies, and everyone’s roles in them.

Merlin knew most if it, and looked especially proud of himself when the Druid described in wonder how Merlin had changed the very fates of the Lady Morgana, Sir Mordred, and Arthur himself.

Arthur was definitely taken aback at that. Whilst Merlin had prattled on, making no sense, about his and Arthur’s destinies, he had never mentioned anyone else, and Arthur becomes increasingly glad he came here to sort it all out.

There were some bits that not even Merlin knew though. He wasn’t aware that the other knights, Guinevere, and Gaius featured in a few of the newer prophecies, and the Druid had an amused smile on his face when he admitted that he’d thought Merlin would have figured that out.

Arthur did laugh at him at that, and Merlin flushed before telling him:

“Shut up, or I’ll tell the others you said I was the best person you’ve ever met, and they’ll never let you live it down.”

Arthur narrows his eyes, and the Druid continues look at them in amusement as they bicker.

The meeting comes to an end just before dark, and Arthur thanks the Druid profusely, for welcoming him, and taking the time to go through everything thoroughly.

Another meal is had in the large tent, but when they leave this time, the clearing has been completely emptied. A large bonfire roars in the middle, and logs surround it, providing seating for everyone.

The evening is full of stories and music and magic, and Arthur once again finds himself wondering just how he thought any of this could be evil.

Even Merlin stands to lead a song. He moves around the clearing with yet another child sat sat on his hip, giggling as Merlin spins her around.

Arthur is surprised to learn that Merlin has a good voice, and stares in wonderment as he leads the melody as if it was what he was born to do. The rest of the Druids clap along, joining in loudly and harmonising and playing instruments in time with the tune.

When the song comes to a close, the crowd burst into cheers as Merlin looks back to Arthur, breathing deeply and cheeks flushed. The Warlock smiles widely as he settles the child back in her mother’s lap before walking back over to his seat, next to Arthur.

Arthur returns his wide grin with a soft smile of his own, and as the music continues around them, Merlin tilts his face in happy confusion:

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Arthur just shakes his head slightly, smiling slightly wider as he responds without missing a beat:

“You’re beautiful like this. And you have an exceptional voice.”

Merlin flushes in surprise and looks to his lap, quietly muttering:

“I wouldn’t know about that...”

Arthur doesn’t look away, huffing out a laugh before replying:

“I mean it, Merlin. You just look... happy. Like you belong here.-”

He does look away here, staring into the fire with a thoughtful, but slightly mournful look on his face as Merlin peers up at him, curious. Arthur continues, even quieter, before Merlin can question him:

“-You know, I wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to stay. Here, I mean. I know magic is legal in Camelot now, but you belong somewhere like this. I would never begrudge you a home like this Merlin.”

Merlin laughs quietly, and takes Arthur’s hand, holding it in his lap like it’s something precious (it is, at least it is to Merlin). Arthur looks back at him in surprise, but doesn’t pull away as Merlin replies, still smiling:

“Home isn’t a place, Arthur, and the Druids know that better than anyone. Home is... home is wherever the people you love are. You are my people, Arthur, you and the knights and Gwen and Morgana and Gaius. My home is wherever you are. No matter my magic or title or destiny; my home will always be where you are.”

Arthur doesn’t let the tears in his eyes fall, but he does squeeze Merlin’s hand, giving him a tender smile that's returned without hesitation.

With the exchanging of smiles that any onlooker would describe as loving, the conversation comes to an easy close, and they spend the rest of the evening hand in hand, smiling fondly at the antics around them.

It’s late when the festivities come to an end, and Arthur and Merlin are exhausted, struggling to hold back yawns as they’re shown to a tent that had been set up for them.

Their bags had been removed from the horses and left in there, and the floor was covered in various blankets and pillows. There was a small trunk, for them to store anything they wished to unpack, and a few candles were lit, filling the room with a soft golden light and pleasant smells.

Merlin charms the tent to be soundproof so they don’t have to worry about noise (he may be openly able to use magic, but the idiot was still rather clumsy, and prone to accidental bangs and crashes), before removing his crown carefully. His cloak and boots follow shortly, and they all go neatly into the trunk, before he starts organising a spot to sleep.

After a few minutes, he realises that Arthur hasn’t moved from his space by the entrance, and Merlin turns around to look at him questioningly. Arthur’s eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks deep in thought as he stares at the floor, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.

Merlin walks over, concerned, and takes one of Arthur’s hands into his own. Arthur looks up at him suddenly, broken free of his thoughts, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him as he strokes his thumb across The King’s knuckles:

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur looks into Merlin’s eyes searchingly, but seems to find what he’s looking for after only a moment, and smiles. Merlin tilts his head to prompt him, and Arthur takes his other hand, before softly speaking:

“You know, I used to find the idea of falling in love frightening.-”

Merlin takes in a subtle deep breath, but Arthur doesn’t notice as he shakes his head, huffing out a gentle laugh before continuing, looking somewhere over Merlin’s shoulder:

“-The possibility that someone could have that much control over me; that I would willingly give another person dominion over my heart, my soul, my... everything, was terrifying to me. But I find I’m not scared anymore.-”

He looks back at Merlin’s shocked face. Arthur looks an odd mix of disbelieving, and happy beyond words as he continues, confident that what he’s saying is right, for the first time in a long time:

“-Because it’s you, Merlin. It’s always been you. And how could I possibly find falling in love with you anything other than beautiful?”

Merlin gulps, seemingly searching Arthur’s face for any hint of a lie. When he finds nothing but sincerity, he launches himself forward, almost knocking Arthur to the floor.

He wraps his arms around the blonde’s shoulders tightly, burying a hand in his hair, and his face in the crook of his neck. Arthur huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around Merlin’s waist, running a soft hand up and down his back.

At Merlin’s muttered:

“I love you, Arthur, more than anything is this world. My magic, my everything, belongs to you.”

Arthur pulls back, smiling. He leans forward pressing his forehead against Merlin’s, and cups his cheek softly with his hand. They stare into the blue of each other’s eyes for a moment, not in any hurry to move the moment along, Arthur running his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone, and Merlin carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair.

Arthur takes a deep breath, before whispering, so quietly it’s a miracle Merlin hears him:

“Can I kiss you?”

Merlin nods infinitesimally, and the two of them lean forward, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss that could only be described as tender, and full of love.

If the stars shine brighter, and the wind blows warmer, and the animals of the dark seem happier that night... well... it was spring... surely no one would notice (Arthur definitely noticed, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped).

~

THE END!!

This is the first one I’ve written in aaaaages that didn’t involve a dizzy/exhausted/sick Merlin so... yay me?

I just really wanted to write something fluffy, where there were no high stakes. No huge battles, or angsty confessions or anything like that, just a soft love story.

I genuinely got no clue what I’ll write next. I do have a few drafts and ideas floating around, but let me know if you’re after anything specific, I live to please :)

Like always, you wanna write this up properly with paragraphs and fleshed out stuff, go for it, credit and tag me :)

#merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin/arthur #merthur fluff #ultra fluff #post magic reveal #court sorcerer merlin #good morgana #good mordred #gwen #guinevere #morgana #mordred #leon #sir leon #lancelot #sir lancelot #gwaine #sir gwaine #sir percival #percival #sir elyan #elyan #king arthur #arthur pendragon #druids #druid #emrys #merlin emrys

[thankskenpenders]

Enerjak Reborn: Epilogue

It’s time to answer the question on everybody’s mind. How did Ken respond to Ian killing off Locke, one of his pet characters?

Well, the answer, as you should expect, is: poorly

Now, it’s important to remind everyone that Ken has not actually read the arc. He never read any of Ian’s run, to my knowledge. But his fans were sure to tell him all about it and ask him how he felt

Eventually, in 2010, two years after this issue dropped, we got a response from Ken talking about how he felt about Ian’s run. (Again, even though he wasn’t actually reading it himself.) Said response is worth reading in full if you’re interested in all this drama and Ken’s mindset. You literally get to see the guy brag about how he actively ignored what Bollers was doing when the two were sharing writing duties, as if this is a good thing that makes him a better writer. He also criticizes Ian for using the previous writers’ characters instead of introducing even more characters to the bloated Archie cast in his first few years on the series. But the relevant part to the discussion of Enerjak reborn is here:

“I especially don’t consider anything either does with any of the echidna characters – especially Locke – to be canon as neither created the characters nor established them in stories as the viable fan favorites they’ve become. No matter what Ian writes, he can never alter the fact that in MY universe, the events of Locke’s passing as depicted in SONIC #143 is canon. Anything he writes can easily be counter-written by a better story with an alternative solution.”

Let’s just brush past the very funny part where he calls Locke a “viable fan favorite”

So yeah. Penders was VERY unhappy with the way Ian wrote Locke, and the way Locke’s death in Enerjak Reborn meant that the timeline depicted in Mobius: 25 Years Later wasn’t the one true future of the series. He’s also gone on record saying that he thinks Ian didn’t get the relationship between Locke and Knuckles. When asked about Ian’s work, this has always been one of the major things that’s bothered him

On a broader level, his ramblings here are reflective of how he views comic franchises in general. A particularly illustrative quote from him is provided in the comments section below the article I linked:

“The only work I consider significant to any character is the work done by the original creators. Anything done afterwards by anyone else pretty much doesn’t count. For example, I consider the original issues of FANTASTIC FOUR by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby to be the only stories that matter in the entire run. Anything being done today is by writers and artists who are simply building off the work Stan and Jack originated. I apply this standard to just about every character I ever enjoyed over the years.”

This odd mindset explains a lot about Ken. It explains why he hates that Ian kept using his characters, and why he actively avoided building off of the work of his contemporary writers at Archie. I can see what he means on some level, of course. When another writer comes in and adds more novels to a series after the original author dies, I generally tend to ignore those. And I skipped a good chunk of Twin Peaks season 2 because it had less involvement from creators David Lynch and Mark Frost, making a lot of it feel like filler. But we’re talking about a licensed comic, one that had been a collaboration between multiple writers based on the work done for the games and cartoons from the very beginning. Ken was never the sole writer--he wasn’t even there for the first year--and he was writing stories centered around characters he hadn’t created like Sonic, Sally, and Knuckles. He doesn’t take credit for creating any of those characters, but the hypocrisy still seems to be lost on him

But of course, we’re not just talking about Ian’s handling of all of Archie Sonic here. We’re talking about Locke. And as Ken has said himself, Locke was based partially on his own father. And that’s really the kicker here

As I’ve said many times before, I try to avoid psychoanalyzing Penders and digging into his personal life. I don’t know the guy, and that’s his own business. But it’s hard not to when he literally says shit like THIS to fans

Locke is emotionally abusive towards his wife and son. Locke is also based on Ken’s dad. Ken refuses to see Locke as abusive, even though that’s exactly what he wrote, because that would mean acknowledging that his own father was abusive. So there’s always an excuse for why father knows best. It was a different era! They’re not humans! He could see the future! He might have hurt Knuckles, but it toughened him up, and he was always there for him in the end! The dad is never, ever at fault. The moms, on the other hands, are mere bystanders to the child rearing done by the dads. It’s just sad, really

I get why Ken would be bitter that Ian took this fictionalized version of his late dad, went “hey, this guy’s an asshole,” and then killed him off. I get why that would upset somebody. He wrote a very personal story there. But it’s not like Ian was pouring salt in a fresh wound--Ken lost his father all the way back in 1982. I know this because Ken literally dedicated the M25YL story about his version of Locke’s death to his dad. It had been nearly 30 years when he wrote this response to Ian’s work. That’s plenty of time to see a goddamn therapist instead of projecting all of your baggage onto Knuckles the Echidna and writing stories for kids about how you should never question your dad ever

The irony, though, is that Ian’s different take on Locke is arguably way more nuanced than Ken’s ever was. In his final moments, Ian’s Locke turns into this tragic figure who only realizes too late that the way of life the Brotherhood had raised him to believe was a mistake, that he had failed his son by passing those beliefs on to him. But he’s still held responsible for what he did. He’s a horrible dad, and the characters around him call him out for his failures, but you pity him for only now realizing what he had done

Ken, on the other hand, gestures at Locke doing horrible things, then tells you to forget about all that and stop questioning him. Knuckles pretends he has a totally normal Leave it to Beaver-ass father-son relationship as soon as they reunite in the Knuckles series. As an adult he thinks back on how great a job Locke did raising him, even though Locke literally took him from his mother, raised him to believe that his mother and the rest of his species were all dead, and then pretended he himself was dead for six years of his son’s childhood (among MANY other things)

M25YL gestures at those very same themes of not repeating your parents’ mistakes that Ian touched on in Locke’s final moments. Knuckles is raising Lara-Su very differently from how Locke raised him, and Locke admits that he wishes he had raised Knuckles differently on his deathbed. But his decision to suddenly admit wrongdoing in this flashback to his death feels unearned and arbitrary. Locke is never at fault. We cannot question Locke. Knuckles turned out fine, so don’t worry about it. Locke might regret the way Knuckles raised him, but Knuckles is not allowed to hold any ill will towards his father or question his methods whatsoever. We’re allowed to gesture at the idea that Knuckles doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the previous generations, but those vague mistakes aren’t allowed to be anyone’s fault. That’s just “how things were”

Ken would do a lot more than just complain about Ian’s handling of Locke on the internet, though. Because you see, the way Ian wrote Locke is commonly cited as one of the main reasons why Ken started copyrighting his work, right up there with Bioware basing the story of Sonic Chronicles partially off of the Knuckles comics without his blessing. And those copyrights, of course, were what started the legal battle that would kill off the original Archieverse

#StH 184 #tkp post #Enerjak Reborn

[mxrcayong]

part of @nct-writers​’s cafe resonance collab!

genre: fluff, a more UK-based pov of university

summary: jisung, a college student now looking for a job, has decided to apply for a job at the local café. he thought being friends with the manager and its employees has it perks; from unlimited free coffee to whatever pastries haven’t been eaten by the end of the day. needless to say; the perks must end somewhere. 

word count: 2317 words

note: i didn’t make the divider!!

College students practically live by coffee shops. If university was a religion, the on-campus coffee shop would be the bible. Daily, college students’ breath in the coffee beans like oxygen, feel the permanent imprint of coffee mug or a ‘to go’ cup on their lips. They’re surrounded by the smells of different fruity pastries and savory snacks, and the sounds of students either chatting or typing away on their computers. 

It’s no wonder that the university coffee shop was practically a hub of activity. When you sit down to work at Café Resonance, it’s feels like you’re a part of a bigger and collective community, stressing for assessments or just taking a break from their hectic university schedules. It’s especially hectic when you’re a full-time student and work part time.   

“Do I really need to get a job?” Jisung sighed, scratching his head as he leant against the barista’s counter. His six closest friends were working behind the counter: using the coffee machines and decorating the pastries. “Can’t I just use your employee discount on everything?” 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. “You know I want to, my little mouse.” He teased as he placed another order on his tray, “But I can only put the café employee discount on so many things.” He practically sung as he left, heading to a table to bring another set of students their own cups of their own ambrosia.     

From the cash register, Haechan had just finished taking the orders of the last bunch of the line and immediately replaced Jaemin’s place next to Jisung. “You can always just become a sugar baby.” He suggested, coming over to the display case to grab one of the pastries to heat up per the customer’s order. “Or a pole dancer… aren’t you a good dancer?” 

Jisung immediately protested. “Firstly, no. Secondly, is it even legal? I literally only became an adult this year.” 

“Actually…” Haechan started to counter, only to be interrupted by Mark approaching with a raised hand and a dirty mop. 

“Stop telling everyone to become a sugar baby.” Mark chided as he ducked to get back behind the counter, drudging the cleaning supplies with him. “You do realize that if someone does become a sugar baby, they aren’t entitled to paying for your shit either.” In response, Haechan grumbled under his breath as he gave the bewildered customer overhearing the odd conversation their fruity treat. 

Jisung has visited his closest friends enough to know that working at the café is like a beautifully choreographed dance. It moves like clockwork; with the six doing their roles diligently and without question. So, it’s not unusual for his friends to come and go during the conversation – all taking part whilst separating themselves at the same time. 

“Why don’t you just ask Chenle if you could work here?” Renjun suggested, coming out from the back room where he started baking some more pastries – obvious through his powdered apron. “We all work here already, and we can go through the ropes with you.” 

Jeno immediately stepped in and basically rejected the offer. “Do you remember the last time we hosted an event and Jisung wanted to help?” He prompted, before chuckling. “He tried to wash the food with dish soap…and he broke the broom when cleaning!” 

Almost as if the thought of teasing Jisung summons him, Chenle came out of seemingly nowhere. “Didn’t he leave the broken broom on the floor and just started playing video games?” Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun nodded – remembering the mess the 00-line apartment was that night.  

“Not the best party we hosted.” Jaemin commented, going around the counter to make his own drink now that the list of waiting customers is gone. “But, still, Jisung learns fast. I think he could work here.” 

Chenle let out an introspective hum, before leaning over to whisper to Haechan. With a questionable look on their faces, Chenle decided to call Jisung into the back room and in his makeshift ‘managers office’ (a perk of being family with the owner of the university café). “I’ll consider your application, but I can’t do any nepotism.” He started, “so, you must go through the whole application process.” He paused. “You must come up with your own recipe.” 

With a rule to not discuss recipes with his ‘potential future co-workers’ – which Chenle weirdly specified as everyone but Haechan, Jisung had to get straight to work. In all honesty, he had no baking experience nor ever made a drink without a guiding recipe.

While his six closest friends were out of the equation, he had another friend he could reach out to; Y/N. 

You were in his freshmen orientation group earlier this year. Not going to lie, you initially thought of each other as familiar faces who you’d occasionally wave at or nod in acknowledgement when you walk past each other. However, you later found yourself eating in the same hall cafeteria…and then the same hall pantry…and then, it clicked. You two lived only four doors away from each other in your university hall. 

Needless to say, you two ran midnight McDonald trips basically on a weekly basis. You became integral to Jisung’s daily routine; from waking each other up for breakfast to storming into each other rooms, armed with complaints and rants about the shitty professor who made you read 300 pages for one night. Even on your busiest days, you two would always pick each other up for the hall provided breakfasts and dinners. 

So here you were - Jisung was slouching down on your desk chair while you were resting on the bed, your back against the wall and a pillow in your lap as you tried to help Jisung solve his current problem. “Well…did Chenle give you a prompt or anything?” 

Jisung shook his head, groaning back. “It’s not like we have a kitchen to try and bake either! We only have fridges and a microwave and a….” He tried to recall what was on the floor pantry. 

“Just a fridge and a microwave.” You added. “That means pastries are off the table…how about a drink?” 

Jisung groaned again. “I have a hard time making pre-made coffee!” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle; you remembered that day. It was a scary time for you; your credit card company sent you a text about a fraudulent use of your student account. Not only did you end up stressing to the point of crying, but you also learned it was a false alarm. Luckily, while still reeling from the anxiety inducing news, you ran into Jisung as he was leaving his room. He then took you to the pantry to try and cheer you up with coffee…however, a fire alarm went off and practically deafened the whole university housing cohort for hours. 

And poor Jisung…Jisung was just an awkward little mouse, trying to look innocent as he saw his exhausted neighbors clamber out into the park due to his attempt of making pre-made coffee. 

“Well…you have me. This isn’t hopeless.” Climbing off the bed, you pretended to dust yourself off. “So, let’s go to the pantry? Another one of our…”

Jisung quickly furrowed his brows, interjecting while you still spoke “I don’t think this can be considered snacking…”

“Pantry-time dates.” You stuttered, obviously unsure of the title. Usually, you call them ‘cup noodle dates’ or ‘popcorn dates’; a joke that ran through your small group of friends as well as the resident advisors at the university hall. 

No one likes being in the pantry. Especially the second floor. For one, things always get stolen; from cutlery to a six pack of coke. Secondly, the few times people use the microwave to heat up their meals, they tend to leave the leftovers to rot on the windowsill. But you and Jisung sit there together; maybe because something about it feels open and comfortable, despite the terrible smell. Plus…the two of you placed bets on who could be the thief when people awkwardly clamber on by, and if on one of these ‘dates’ you catch the thief obviously taking something that isn’t theirs? Even better. 

But today… you two will have to be the forsaken thieves. 

“So someone put chocolate powder in the fridge…” You commented incredulously, especially as this fridge is known for freezing things into ice in minutes. “There’s some…expired milk.” Jisung watched as you searched through the fridge for any hidden treasures; feeling more and more unsure of himself as you listed more and more ingredients. “Oh, okay, some non-expired milk. That will be useful.” 

“We can make a latte?” Jisung offered, now on his phone searching up popular café drinks. 

“Yes!” You enthused, finally feeling like this trip to the pantry isn’t useless after all. “But…we should probably write an apology note to the people we’re stealing from.” 

It’s been almost five hours in the pantry. Countless of people came in (however, this time you tried not to place bets as you knew who the real thieves were tonight) and would just stare at the two of you, arguing over a kettle of milk. Even your neighbor Victor came in; having sat and watched you two for a good while (which made Jisung extra cautious; he’s had a theory about him being the forsaken pantry thief for a while). Victor, however, said you two should have a cooking show, to which you scoffed while Jisung basked in the compliment. This very same compliment crossed Victor off of Jisung’s “potential criminals” list. 

Eventually, you had a drink in front of you. A chocolate latte that Jisung insisted on putting salt in, as “Modern Family said it was a good idea”. Admittedly, the first ten versions of this drink were absolute failures; making you go to the bathroom numerous times to vomit out the thick and almost flour-like texture.  

So, for your final check, the two of you grabbed the non-eaten pastries Jisung brought home from the café. Hopefully, this will act as a palette cleanser; especially since tasting all of the failed drinks probably have messed with your taste buds and lowered all sorts of expectations. 

After taking bites into the Suh-ndwitch and Henpretzel, you two finally took sips of the drink you attempted to make since 10pm – with Jisung making far too many references to the Powerpuff Girls opening theme. 

Alas – the taste that flooded their senses wasn’t at all bad, no. Nor was it ‘a little bit of sugar and everything ice’, but it was something you’d expect from Starbucks. You two immediately squealed out of excitement, ignoring the fact that you probably woke the neighboring rooms up at three in the morning. Jisung immediately went over to hug your waist, spinning you around as fast as he could; before something unexpected happens. 

You felt his lips on yours; tasting like chocolate and leftover ingredients that were remnants from his palette cleanser of a sandwich. The feeling was foreign; you never expected to kiss Jisung. He was your best friend, your neighbour; but his lips were soft…and something about this felt right. 

But then the door slammed opened. A zombie-like RA came in and you two immediately jumped to different sides of the room. “I know you two always do your pantry dates, but…” The RA started, obviously sluggish from being woken up at 3am. “We got noise complaints.” 

Jisung awkwardly coughed, apologized, and ran away; leaving you confused in the corner of the pantry. 

Café Resonance were never busy Friday evenings. People were most likely out pubbing or preparing for their weekends of antics. So when Jisung stormed in with a recipe in hand, he wasn’t afraid to celebrate as loudly as if he had just won the Olympic World Cup. “I got the recipe! Can I please have the job?” He practically pleaded, dropping the piece of paper with messy handwriting and the sample drink you two whipped up again the night prior. On top of the page with chocolate colored stains were the words; “Hamji Choco Latte” with (served hot or cold)  at the bottom.

“A recipe?” Everyone but Haechan and Chenle looked confused; with the latter two smirking in the corner of the room. But as soon as Haechan cracked and let out a loud laugh, Mark turned around and immediately recognized the culprits of this misunderstanding. 

“Bruh,” Chenle let out throughout his charming ‘dolphin laugh’, “You had the job – I was just messing with you.” 

Haechan pouted, approaching Jisung to ruffle his hair. “My sweet, small, dumb idiot…how much I love you.” He placed a sloppy kiss at the corner of his head, making Jisung immediately try to scrub it off. 

Jisung scowled, upset he let himself get fooled by his best friends. “At least I got a girlfriend from it…” He mumbled, more to himself, but forgetful of how Jeno’s ears can pick up on anything. It was from my ASMR stint, Jeno would say. 

“WHAT!?” He exclaimed, as if Jisung getting a girlfriend would happen the day pigs would fly. 

“I sent you to make a café recipe, not a love potion!” Chenle cackled even more; while his fellow friends made him explain what happened. 

By the time the store closed, Jaemin gave Jisung the ‘talk’ and warned that although they spent nights in each other’s rooms before, Jisung and you must be ‘safe’ and ‘protected’. 

People always say the first people you become friends with at university don’t always stay friends for life. People tend to clash, find their hobbies, and go different ways. But Jisung was lucky. He met you; his best friend and now his other half. And despite the annoying prank Chenle made that wasted hours of your time, Chenle was right; the Hamji Choco Latte was basically a love potion as it brought the hidden infatuation you had for each other to light.  

Now, every time he picks you up from your lecture hall, he brings one extra-large chocolatey drink to share. 

“Email sent out to residents of NCU Hall: 

Dear residents of the second floor, 

The person who has been stealing cultlery and food has been identified. Victor Cho will be coming by to return any items that may have belonged to you.”

Jisung screamed at the top of his lungs when he got this email. “I TOLD YOU SO!” 

#nct-writers #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jisung fluff #jisung scenarios #jisung imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct scenarios #jisung drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles

[nileqt87]

Ramblings about Lucifer referencing Bones, “Close your eyes.” and shows influencing each other

That was never just a Bones reference being made and the season finale admitted it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jv_1dJk5yEM

David Boreanaz played the ironically-named Angel on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series. His character has *so many* parallels with Lucifer (far more than Booth outside of the law enforcement/crime procedural connection).

Angel's spinoff also has noir crime drama aspects mixed with the supernatural starring an immortal protagonist with a dark past and infamously villainous reputation fighting evil as a supernatural private detective in the City of Angels (a city known for its dark underbelly juxtaposed with fame and glamor, broken dreams and chasing eternal youth) and navigating human law (including the LAPD and evil lawyers) while not legally existing.

Angel also fell in love with a blonde human heroine (Buffy Summers) after lifetimes of self-destructive, not-so-heroic behaviors (getting his soul back did *not* make Angel a hero and human Liam was a lecherous drunk with unfulfilled ambitions and father issues) who inspired him to become a better man and make human connections.

AtS made heavy use of sprawling nighttime Downtown L.A. cityscape shots, which Lucifer also shared an abundance of.

During both of their first cases, they failed to save the troubled blonde girl they were trying to help (Tina and Delilah, respectively). They also have a connection inside the LAPD through a blonde cop who also takes their identity secrets pretty badly (Kate Lockley in Angel's case).

Note that Buffy not only screamed (twice, given it repeated during her memory loss in Halloween), but also came after Angel with a crossbow when she thought he'd attacked her mother (it was Darla), so Chloe taking the Devil face reveal (Monster Reveals are iconic old horror imagery) poorly to the point of considering poisoning is par for the course. However, it only took Buffy seven episodes instead of three seasons to get the identity reveal via seeing the horrific second face (arguably also an accident on Angel's part).

They are metaphorically or literally Hell's angels. They also had long stays in Hell or a hell dimension.

Lucifer and Angel are also both Prodigal Sons with long-held grudges against their long-absent fathers (patricide in Liam/Angel(us)'s case) and they're later faced with a situation where they have unexpected, thought-impossible offspring who show up as adults (neither got to raise their miracle child) wanting revenge. Yup, major Connor/Rory parallel there.

Angel is also in a constant struggle with the Powers that Be manipulating his fate and free will (like Lucifer, he's a champion of free will no matter the cost) and making him prophecy's bitch.

Bones famously got jokes about how Booth is Angel getting his Shanshu (made human), since the character is given constant Angel-isms like references to a dark past having killed people (Booth is also named after a historical murderer, in addition to having been a sniper), both being Catholics full of Catholic guilt (note that the Buffyverse is most accurately polytheistic, though Angel does face off against a take on the antichrist--Angel has constant biblical imagery/themes and not just because of vampire iconography), kicking down doors (just not off their entire frames--LOL), turning on a dime and threatening people up against walls, constant wink-wink references to the Buffyverse (familiar casting, references to the Hyperion Hotel, etc...), etc...

The Lucifer finale used the words "Close your eyes." right before Lucifer is sent to Hell. This is literally the BtVS season 2 finale where Buffy kisses Angel and sends him to hell for a century with a stab to the gut (see the season 5 finale, not to mention Lucifer giving up his life for Chloe's à la I Will Remember You).

Note that D.B. Woodside was on BtVS (playing Robin Wood, whose Slayer mother Nikki Wood was killed by Spike). Aimee Garcia was in both episodes of AtS (Birthday--she's older than she looks!) and Bones. See her also playing a cross-wearing religious girl on Supernatural who was slaughtered in a police precinct by Lilith. Kevin Alejandro was also in an episode of Bones.

Tricia Helfer was in an episode of Supernatural playing a ghost who reenacts the night of her death every year. BtVS also had an episode along those lines, but with Buffy and Angelus possessed (not to mention Phantom Dennis!). Lucifer having Dan as a ghost is yet another thing they all have in common (ditto referencing Ghost, Patrick Swayze and/or Unchained Melody--Vincent Schiavelli a.k.a. Ghost's subway ghost was Jenny's uncle Enyos, whom Angelus killed).

Lucifer name-checked Castiel and Supernatural referenced Lucifer using their Lucifer (crime-fighting angel in L.A. made it a double-reference whammy). Supernatural returned the favor again by having Castiel forced to sing in Enochian. Lucifer's reference to his singing voice was already a zing about Misha Collins having to put on that monotone gravel voice and Enochian being far from melodious.

Russell T Davies was quite heavily inspired by the Buffyverse when he revived Doctor Who and spun off Torchwood, so there are absolute tons of Buffy, Angel and Spike respectively in Rose Tyler, the 9th/10th Doctors, Captain Jack Harkness and Captain John Hart (right down to the actor). School Reunion is the episode where the Buffyverse inspiration is most on the nose, complete with Anthony Stewart Head saying "shooty dog thing" in a school setting and a Mayor/Angel-esque speech about the curse of immortality. The Time War gave the Doctor a huge genocide-level guilt complex. Note that the creator of DC comics' version of Lucifer, Neil Gaiman, has also written for Doctor Who and is also the co-creator of Good Omens (the show is brimming with Doctor Who Easter eggs thanks to David Tennant). A barely-recognizable Tom Ellis played Martha Jones' ex-fiancé Tom Milligan during the Year that Never Was, as well.

A lot of shows take inspiration from the Buffyverse and you've probably seen some of them. It isn't just the copycat vampire romance stories either.

Angel's forerunners in turn were a mix of guilt-stricken, rat-eating Louis de Pointe du Lac (his Jekyll/Hyde-esque alter-ego Angelus is closer to the pre-retcon, fully-evil Lestat de Lioncourt, who got woobified into an antihero rocker not unlike Spike--the entire Fanged Four mirror Anne Rice's character lineup), sword-wielding, immortality trope-influencers Connor/Duncan MacLeod of Highlander fighting for the Prize of humanity (akin to Pinocchio becoming a "real boy"--see also Barnabas Collins of Dark Shadows, though he was before vampires became antihero superheroes, not just sympathetic antivillains) and Nick Knight of Forever Knight (vampire detective).

Additionally, Tom Welling was famously the longest-serving Clark Kent of them all (Smallville) on the old WB (there's that DC comics connection, too), so it's not just a Fox shows thing (though Fox, not just Warner Brothers, did indeed own the Buffyverse). One of the least-known things about Clark is that he also has an immortality problem where he wouldn't age parallel to Lois (they wouldn't be able to have kids either) without a workaround. The Kryptonite line directed at Cain/Pierce by Lucifer was quite on the nose! Lucifer and Smallville sort of crossed over even further in Crisis on Infinite Earths, so Tom is canonically the face of both Clark and Cain in parallel universes of the DC multiverse.

Supernatural had quite recently had their own takes on Cain (played by Timothy Omundson, who also played God Johnson) and the Mark of Cain when Lucifer did it. Dan's killer Le Mec was, of course, Rob Benedict, who was God a.k.a. Chuck Shurley, the ultimate villain of Supernatural. Richard Speight, Jr., who was archangel Gabriel/Loki the Trickster, directed a lot of Lucifer's later episodes in addition to being a prolific Supernatural director.

Supernatural and Lucifer use the exact same font for their titles (Supernatural Knight).

The X-Files (which Supernatural referenced constantly) and Supernatural also had stories about nephilim (see the apocryphal Book of Enoch). Lucifer ultimately had two nephilim (forbidden interspecies offspring of angels and humans), even if not saying so as a known concept. Connor can also be compared to the vampire equivalent of being something like a dhampir, though he's not quite that (mostly-but-not-quite-human offspring of two vampires instead of a human/vampire hybrid--see Blade for an actual dhampir). Supernatural has also covered the even rarer cambion species (human/demon hybrid).

#deckerstar #bangel #angel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #buffy the vampire slayer #angel: the series #bones #buffy summers #chloe decker #angelus #seeley booth #david boreanaz #tom ellis #connor angel #aurora morningstar #castiel #supernatural #smallville #clark kent #the x-files #doctor who #russell t davies #neil gaiman #btvs #ats #highlander #anne rice #ghost #tom welling

[neocatharsis]

NCT’s Mark Lee on Dreams, Instagram Poetry, and Growing Up

Mark has a lot going on — but he’s making time for poetry, introspection, and, of course, the members of NCT Dream. - Vivien Wu

“I’ve been thinking about dreams a lot these days!” Mark Lee exclaims over Zoom from SM Entertainment’s Seoul headquarters.

The 21-year-old leader of NCT Dream is enthusiastic as he mulls over the meaning of dreams, his back against a wall of pink and yellow flowers assembled by his fellow NCT members. He’s wearing a simple, white tee, and when he gestures with his hands, you can catch glimpses of the friendship ring that all seven members of NCT Dream wear as a symbol of their bond.

“I actually feel like dreams hold a large portion of a life, and I’m not just talking about the subconscious dreams that we all have when we sleep,” he continues. “If you put it in a way where dreams are actually things that motivate us, and the drive that keeps us going, especially as a strongly driven person myself, I feel like… a guy with no dreams is like…” He looks up, thinking. “…A car with no engine. So, I think it’s as important as yourself. That’s how deep I go with dreams.”

His interest in dreams is fitting, considering that they are also the central, underlying concept to the lore behind NCT Dream’s parent group, NCT. They connect their three subunits, NCT 127, NCT Dream, and WayV, in a complex, Inception-inspired fictional universe where dreams are the only way they can find each other, and where upon uniting they can mix to form new subunits collectively referred to as NCT U. In practical terms, this has resulted in a 23-member mega-group that is multifaceted in every way — from their musical styles and visual aesthetics to their cultural backgrounds and spoken languages.

The 21-year-old leader of NCT Dream is enthusiastic as he mulls over the meaning of dreams, his back against a wall of pink and yellow flowers assembled by his fellow NCT members. He’s wearing a simple, white tee, and when he gestures with his hands, you can catch glimpses of the friendship ring that all seven members of NCT Dream wear as a symbol of their bond.

“I actually feel like dreams hold a large portion of a life, and I’m not just talking about the subconscious dreams that we all have when we sleep,” he continues. “If you put it in a way where dreams are actually things that motivate us, and the drive that keeps us going, especially as a strongly driven person myself, I feel like… a guy with no dreams is like…” He looks up, thinking. “…A car with no engine. So, I think it’s as important as yourself. That’s how deep I go with dreams.”

His interest in dreams is fitting, considering that they are also the central, underlying concept to the lore behind NCT Dream’s parent group, NCT. They connect their three subunits, NCT 127, NCT Dream, and WayV, in a complex, Inception-inspired fictional universe where dreams are the only way they can find each other, and where upon uniting they can mix to form new subunits collectively referred to as NCT U. In practical terms, this has resulted in a 23-member mega-group that is multifaceted in every way — from their musical styles and visual aesthetics to their cultural backgrounds and spoken languages.

NCT Dream’s original teenage concept meant that members were supposed to “graduate” when they came of age, and as the oldest, Mark was the first to leave the group at the end of 2018. Having grown attached, however, fans were devastated at his departure; after a year of separation, SM announced that the graduation system would be scrapped and that he would rejoin the group. Their new album, Hot Sauce, is the first with Mark in over two years. As fellow member Haechan declared in an interview with Teen Vogue earlier this week, “Mark [is] very special. NCT Dream means Mark.”

But before the rapper led NCT Dream, and before he joined NCT U and NCT 127 and SuperM — the man is in high demand — Mark’s childhood dream was writing. He grew up in Toronto, and through doing school projects and essays quickly discovered that he had a natural way with words. Inspired by Percy Jackson author Rick Riordan, Harry Potter, and James Patterson, Mark dreamt of becoming an author, long before he was recruited by SM at a global audition in Canada in 2012. “When I was in school, I was always the kind of guy who would write more than expected, and that became a thing that clicked for me,” he says. “I was like, ‘Maybe it’s something that I naturally do?’ But then that kind of turned into rap writing too, so I guess they kind of clicked together.” It explains his prolific career as a lyricist; since debuting, he’s amassed over 30 songwriting credits across his various groups, contributing to songs as iconic as NCT U’s “Boss,” NCT 127’s “Cherry Bomb,” and NCT Dream’s “Chewing Gum.”

Even with such an extensive body of work, however, penning lyrics hasn’t satiated his appetite for literary expression. In an interview with Japanese magazine Men’s Non-No, he revealed that he still hopes one day to write a book, whether that be a novel, autobiography, or something more philosophical.

In the meantime, he’s taken to writing what are basically short poems on his Instagram, which he created just a few months ago. He’s gathered over 4.5 million followers since then, but having such a large audience hasn’t deterred him from being endearingly vulnerable with the way he writes. When I refer to them as poems, he laughs and looks embarrassed, but when I ask him to tell me the stories behind them, he’s enthusiastic again. They’re short, but offer brief glimpses into Mark the writer — sharp, inquisitive, and thoughtful. As pieces of literature, they’re a little rough around the edges, but the sincerity he’s known for shines through, illuminating the introspective, philosophical side that may not be so obvious in person.

His first poem, loosely titled “Late Night Scribbling,” put into words his musings about sleep, thoughts, feelings, and writing. It meanders from topic to topic, hovering between feelings of hope and hopelessness, before ending with a comically awkward “haha.”

“I actually wrote that by imagining how I wanted to organize my Instagram page,” he explains. “I was thinking of creating an Instagram, then I realized that, well, I’m not really a picture kind of guy, I’m not really a travelling kind of guy… I kind of studied who I am first, and I [asked myself], ‘What’s something that I can really portray in an intimate way?’ and it turned out to be writing.”

“I started to brainstorm what kind of topics I could write about, and then from there on, I started to write a little each and every night, and that turned into Late Night Scribbling,” he continues. “That kind of gave me courage to start Instagram in the first place, that piece of writing.”

Two weeks later, he followed it up with “Black Socks,” a whimsical ode to, well, black socks — complete with accompanying photos of him wearing said socks. Immediately, it feels more confident and cohesive than its predecessor. Using the neat and tidy look of black socks as a metaphor, he describes his own mindset for living life: “Pleasure from perfect alignment; That also goes for my ability to be parallel with my thoughts and actions; I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep it consistent even when forgotten like a working habit.”

Comments on the posts praise his writing and encourage him to continue sharing these small pieces of himself. On the stage, Mark takes on a confident, larger-than-life persona, while in vlogs and spoken interviews, he’s a bubbly character full of laughter and boyish charm. What the poems show is that, beneath these outer appearances, there’s another layer of complexity that is yet to be fully explored, and it’s not surprising that fans want to know more.

His day job as a K-pop idol doesn’t allow a lot of time for hobbies, though, and he confesses to not having written much lately. Despite that, he’s determined to stay in the industry for as long as possible. “Longevity is something that I’ve always been aiming for,” he says. “I’m willing to do this for a long time, and that requires a lot of work. I’m willing to take that as a challenge and I’m trying to stay as long as I can, but with quality.”

That focus on quality informs his preparations for the upcoming promotions with NCT Dream. In both their fictional world and ours, NCT Dream are a central component of NCT by virtue of their unique focus on growth — the seven members were aged between 14 and 17 when the group first debuted in 2016. Fast-forward five years, and the members are now 19 to 21, having reached a milestone in January when the youngest, Jisung, finally became a legal adult in Korea. When asked if he feels like an adult yet, though, Mark gives an extremely relatable answer with zero hesitation.

“I still feel like I’m in middle school, I’m gonna be totally honest. I swear to God, I feel like I’m… All right, I’ll put it up — I feel like I’m in high school!” He laughs. “I even had this talk with Jisung, ‘cos he’s the latest that turned into an adult. He said that he still feels like he’s a student, he doesn’t feel like he’s 20 [19 in international age] right now.”

It’s been a long time since all seven Dream members — Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung — have released an album together, and as the first full-length album since their debut, the fan anticipation is palpably intense. Mark himself has mentioned in various vlogs how important he believes this comeback to be, and that conviction becomes obvious whenever he talks about it.

“We had a talk all together, the seven of us, without any cameras or anything. I brought all the guys together and we talked before the whole momentum started, and I said that I’m willing to put my everything on this one. Like, I always had, but I feel like… the whole universe, or like— ” He pauses, trying to figure out how to articulate himself, and his next line is the most emphatic of our whole conversation. “There are things that are out of our control, but we can see and feel when the pieces match together sometimes, and I feel like this specific moment, this particular album, kind of had those essential parts.”

He’s thinking about all of the context surrounding this comeback: the group’s coming of age, the reunion of all seven members, the scale of the album, the fact that Jisung has only just recovered from a leg injury that meant he couldn’t dance for months — even the fact that 2020 was, against all odds, the best year yet for NCT, with release after release bringing them unprecedented success and momentum.

“I felt that coming and I explained all of that [to the group],” he continues. “This whole period of time has a lot of meaning to it, and we’re not taking that for granted, we’re working hard.” With everything that’s happened, Hot Sauce is a historic moment for NCT Dream, and that’s been reflected in their numbers — the album clocked over 1.7 million pre-orders, obliterating their previous record of 500,000 for last year’s EP, Reload.

Their familial bond and the success that has come with it is the culmination of years spent living, working, and growing up together. The members have collectively missed out on key experiences that most teenagers might take for granted, distanced as they are from normal life, and the group also benefits from an unusually loose adherence to traditional Korean age hierarchy. The result is a brotherhood that goes beyond just being colleagues. “What we have is pretty intimate, and it’s also genuine,” Mark says.

About his role, he is matter of fact. “I’m by far the most easily approachable punching bag for the team. I am not… complaining…” He laughs. “But all jokes aside, I feel like my role for this team… Yes, I am the oldest and I am the leader but I’m also… In Korea, in the culture, age is very important, but we’ve come so far that all those borders kind of just vanished and we’re all pretty much friends, and I guess I’m just a friend of theirs too.”

It’s true that, despite being the leader, his friendly personality and endearingly awkward mannerisms mean that he commands about as much authority as a small puppy. Instead, much like a puppy, he is showered with love and affection (fellow member Chenle refers to Mark as his son and his actual puppy Daegal as Mark’s little sister), but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a dependable leader figure. The opposite is true — in Renjun’s words, Mark’s presence unites the group in a way that makes him irreplaceable.

The 21-year-old leader of NCT Dream is enthusiastic as he mulls over the meaning of dreams, his back against a wall of pink and yellow flowers assembled by his fellow NCT members. He’s wearing a simple, white tee, and when he gestures with his hands, you can catch glimpses of the friendship ring that all seven members of NCT Dream wear as a symbol of their bond.

“I actually feel like dreams hold a large portion of a life, and I’m not just talking about the subconscious dreams that we all have when we sleep,” he continues. “If you put it in a way where dreams are actually things that motivate us, and the drive that keeps us going, especially as a strongly driven person myself, I feel like… a guy with no dreams is like…” He looks up, thinking. “…A car with no engine. So, I think it’s as important as yourself. That’s how deep I go with dreams.”

His interest in dreams is fitting, considering that they are also the central, underlying concept to the lore behind NCT Dream’s parent group, NCT. They connect their three subunits, NCT 127, NCT Dream, and WayV, in a complex, Inception-inspired fictional universe where dreams are the only way they can find each other, and where upon uniting they can mix to form new subunits collectively referred to as NCT U. In practical terms, this has resulted in a 23-member mega-group that is multifaceted in every way — from their musical styles and visual aesthetics to their cultural backgrounds and spoken languages.

NCT Dream’s original teenage concept meant that members were supposed to “graduate” when they came of age, and as the oldest, Mark was the first to leave the group at the end of 2018. Having grown attached, however, fans were devastated at his departure; after a year of separation, SM announced that the graduation system would be scrapped and that he would rejoin the group. Their new album, Hot Sauce, is the first with Mark in over two years. As fellow member Haechan declared in an interview with Teen Vogue earlier this week, “Mark [is] very special. NCT Dream means Mark.”

But before the rapper led NCT Dream, and before he joined NCT U and NCT 127 and SuperM — the man is in high demand — Mark’s childhood dream was writing. He grew up in Toronto, and through doing school projects and essays quickly discovered that he had a natural way with words. Inspired by Percy Jackson author Rick Riordan, Harry Potter, and James Patterson, Mark dreamt of becoming an author, long before he was recruited by SM at a global audition in Canada in 2012. “When I was in school, I was always the kind of guy who would write more than expected, and that became a thing that clicked for me,” he says. “I was like, ‘Maybe it’s something that I naturally do?’ But then that kind of turned into rap writing too, so I guess they kind of clicked together.” It explains his prolific career as a lyricist; since debuting, he’s amassed over 30 songwriting credits across his various groups, contributing to songs as iconic as NCT U’s “Boss,” NCT 127’s “Cherry Bomb,” and NCT Dream’s “Chewing Gum.”

Even with such an extensive body of work, however, penning lyrics hasn’t satiated his appetite for literary expression. In an interview with Japanese magazine Men’s Non-No, he revealed that he still hopes one day to write a book, whether that be a novel, autobiography, or something more philosophical.

In the meantime, he’s taken to writing what are basically short poems on his Instagram, which he created just a few months ago. He’s gathered over 4.5 million followers since then, but having such a large audience hasn’t deterred him from being endearingly vulnerable with the way he writes. When I refer to them as poems, he laughs and looks embarrassed, but when I ask him to tell me the stories behind them, he’s enthusiastic again. They’re short, but offer brief glimpses into Mark the writer — sharp, inquisitive, and thoughtful. As pieces of literature, they’re a little rough around the edges, but the sincerity he’s known for shines through, illuminating the introspective, philosophical side that may not be so obvious in person.

His first poem, loosely titled “Late Night Scribbling,” put into words his musings about sleep, thoughts, feelings, and writing. It meanders from topic to topic, hovering between feelings of hope and hopelessness, before ending with a comically awkward “haha.”

“I actually wrote that by imagining how I wanted to organize my Instagram page,” he explains. “I was thinking of creating an Instagram, then I realized that, well, I’m not really a picture kind of guy, I’m not really a travelling kind of guy… I kind of studied who I am first, and I [asked myself], ‘What’s something that I can really portray in an intimate way?’ and it turned out to be writing.”

“I started to brainstorm what kind of topics I could write about, and then from there on, I started to write a little each and every night, and that turned into Late Night Scribbling,” he continues. “That kind of gave me courage to start Instagram in the first place, that piece of writing.”

Two weeks later, he followed it up with “Black Socks,” a whimsical ode to, well, black socks — complete with accompanying photos of him wearing said socks. Immediately, it feels more confident and cohesive than its predecessor. Using the neat and tidy look of black socks as a metaphor, he describes his own mindset for living life: “Pleasure from perfect alignment; That also goes for my ability to be parallel with my thoughts and actions; I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep it consistent even when forgotten like a working habit.”

Comments on the posts praise his writing and encourage him to continue sharing these small pieces of himself. On the stage, Mark takes on a confident, larger-than-life persona, while in vlogs and spoken interviews, he’s a bubbly character full of laughter and boyish charm. What the poems show is that, beneath these outer appearances, there’s another layer of complexity that is yet to be fully explored, and it’s not surprising that fans want to know more.

His day job as a K-pop idol doesn’t allow a lot of time for hobbies, though, and he confesses to not having written much lately. Despite that, he’s determined to stay in the industry for as long as possible. “Longevity is something that I’ve always been aiming for,” he says. “I’m willing to do this for a long time, and that requires a lot of work. I’m willing to take that as a challenge and I’m trying to stay as long as I can, but with quality.”

That focus on quality informs his preparations for the upcoming promotions with NCT Dream. In both their fictional world and ours, NCT Dream are a central component of NCT by virtue of their unique focus on growth — the seven members were aged between 14 and 17 when the group first debuted in 2016. Fast-forward five years, and the members are now 19 to 21, having reached a milestone in January when the youngest, Jisung, finally became a legal adult in Korea. When asked if he feels like an adult yet, though, Mark gives an extremely relatable answer with zero hesitation.

“I still feel like I’m in middle school, I’m gonna be totally honest. I swear to God, I feel like I’m… All right, I’ll put it up — I feel like I’m in high school!” He laughs. “I even had this talk with Jisung, ‘cos he’s the latest that turned into an adult. He said that he still feels like he’s a student, he doesn’t feel like he’s 20 [19 in international age] right now.”

It’s been a long time since all seven Dream members — Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung — have released an album together, and as the first full-length album since their debut, the fan anticipation is palpably intense. Mark himself has mentioned in various vlogs how important he believes this comeback to be, and that conviction becomes obvious whenever he talks about it.

“We had a talk all together, the seven of us, without any cameras or anything. I brought all the guys together and we talked before the whole momentum started, and I said that I’m willing to put my everything on this one. Like, I always had, but I feel like… the whole universe, or like— ” He pauses, trying to figure out how to articulate himself, and his next line is the most emphatic of our whole conversation. “There are things that are out of our control, but we can see and feel when the pieces match together sometimes, and I feel like this specific moment, this particular album, kind of had those essential parts.”

He’s thinking about all of the context surrounding this comeback: the group’s coming of age, the reunion of all seven members, the scale of the album, the fact that Jisung has only just recovered from a leg injury that meant he couldn’t dance for months — even the fact that 2020 was, against all odds, the best year yet for NCT, with release after release bringing them unprecedented success and momentum.

“I felt that coming and I explained all of that [to the group],” he continues. “This whole period of time has a lot of meaning to it, and we’re not taking that for granted, we’re working hard.” With everything that’s happened, Hot Sauce is a historic moment for NCT Dream, and that’s been reflected in their numbers — the album clocked over 1.7 million pre-orders, obliterating their previous record of 500,000 for last year’s EP, Reload.

Their familial bond and the success that has come with it is the culmination of years spent living, working, and growing up together. The members have collectively missed out on key experiences that most teenagers might take for granted, distanced as they are from normal life, and the group also benefits from an unusually loose adherence to traditional Korean age hierarchy. The result is a brotherhood that goes beyond just being colleagues. “What we have is pretty intimate, and it’s also genuine,” Mark says.

About his role, he is matter of fact. “I’m by far the most easily approachable punching bag for the team. I am not… complaining…” He laughs. “But all jokes aside, I feel like my role for this team… Yes, I am the oldest and I am the leader but I’m also… In Korea, in the culture, age is very important, but we’ve come so far that all those borders kind of just vanished and we’re all pretty much friends, and I guess I’m just a friend of theirs too.”

It’s true that, despite being the leader, his friendly personality and endearingly awkward mannerisms mean that he commands about as much authority as a small puppy. Instead, much like a puppy, he is showered with love and affection (fellow member Chenle refers to Mark as his son and his actual puppy Daegal as Mark’s little sister), but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a dependable leader figure. The opposite is true — in Renjun’s words, Mark’s presence unites the group in a way that makes him irreplaceable.

And while this may be the fifth year since their debut, in the grand scheme of things, the members of NCT Dream are still very, very young — by most standards, they would still be considered to have their entire careers ahead of them. Growth has brought them here, but where does Mark think it will take them in the future?

“Growing just never stops for us, I can see us growing continuously, endlessly,” he replies. “What the future holds is something that we will never know, but we always do try to prepare during the present, and so with whatever time we have currently and with whatever album, or whatever stage, or whatever piece of music it may be, we’re willing to make sure that we have the next one coming too.”

A final thought. “I’m glad that we’re striving for that, ‘cos we started off as…” Mark shakes his head, “…as babies.”

© Teen Vogue

#nct #nct dream #Mark #nct 127

[unfunny-quips]

Of all the many people in the world who wanted him dead, All For One had to admit that he was rather surprised by the person who actually managed to both track him down and get past his impressive security.

He knew someone was there the moment he opened the door. Could sense the presence of another person in his high rise apartment that shouldn’t have been there. A steady heartbeat, unflinching and unafraid. Brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure, but they’d be dead either way once he wrung out of them how they’d gotten in and which of his security detail he was going to have to kill.

He shrugged off his coat - it was new and fit him well, he’d rather not get blood on it - and hung it up carefully by the front door. Slipped off his shoes and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Though that particular apartment was not homey per se, there was something oddly comforting about returning to a living space that was entirely his own at the end of a day. Though centuries ago, a childhood fraught with uncertain living situations and inconsistent care had left marks on him that time and power had not fully been able to shake.

All the more reason to make the intruder’s death slow, as insignificant a threat as they were, they’d at least been able to find him. Which meant finding a new luxury apartment, perhaps even in a new city. And he despised moving.

He kept his steps light on the polished wooden floors, stopping by the oversized and little used kitchen for some water before he meandered his way towards the living room where his uninvited guest waited. Perhaps he’d throw them out the window, eighty stories up would make for a rather long time to think about their impending death. Or maybe tear them apart inch by literal inch so they had to languish in their suffering.

Setting his glass down on the kitchen counter he stepped into his spacious living room and paused at what sat waiting for him.

All For One, Emperor of Darkness, King of all Villains, Boogeyman of the Boogeymen found himself...uncertain.

There was a woman seated on his couch. Casually dressed and relaxed looking, knees drawn up and tucked beneath her, an open book bag on the floor beside where she sat and a law textbook in hand. She finished highlighting a section carefully before capping the marker and turning her gaze on to him, letting him see her face properly for the first time.

Green eyes were the first thing that struck him. Clear and bright and intelligent, set in a kind face. Her hair, also green, was swept down a little past her shoulders with half of it pulled up in a fluttering little bun at the back of her head. He was struck by two thoughts as he took her in.

The woman sitting before him was entirely unintimidated by him.

And...

She looked a bit like Nana Shimura. 

The woman tilted her head, seeming to take him in while he’d been observing her. She shifted on the couch a little, shutting the book softly and setting it down. Her heartbeat was steady, her gaze unflinching but not combative. Purpose seemed to flow off of her, as resolute as her steady gaze. He understood that she knew exactly who he was and felt no need for fear nor sense of unease in his presence. A strong will, he knew the aura he carried around him well and it was someone interesting indeed who could face the overwhelming killing intent that drifted off him in waves without so much as a flicker of uncertainty. 

“Hello.” She said with a soft, clear voice. The kind of ease one has with an acquaintance or a friend not often seen, not a stranger whose house she had invaded. “I’m sorry to have broken in like this.” She started, with the appropriate level of apology one would save for knocking over a stranger’s drink. “But I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

He should be irritated, he should just kill her and get on with his evening, he should make her an example for anyone else stupid enough to think they could waltz into his home without consquence. 

He wasn’t irritated though. And he didn’t kill her. Instead he found himself oddly...charmed by the stranger that sat before him.

“Indeed?” He asked blandly, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall casually. “I’m afraid you’re rather lost if you think this is a police station.”

The woman broke into a small smile, a soft huffing chuckle leaving her. Shaking her head she dropped her gaze for a moment and he saw the faint pink of a blush on her cheeks. He was, he realized. He was absolutely charmed by her. And it wasn’t even her Quirk doing it, hers had the feel of a gravitational telekinesis, not a mood altering ability. The woman that sat before him, who had broken into his home and casually asked him for help as if searching for her stray cat, was oddly endearing. And it had been a long time since he had found himself endeared by anything, let alone a person.

“Sorry,” She said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve probably done this all wrong. But I wanted you to know I was serious.” Green eyes met his own and he was struck again by the intelligence he saw in her gaze. “I don’t know why I thought this would be the way to do it but…” She gave a shrug, then slowly got to her feet. Careful not to topple her bag or trip as she untangled from her comfortable position on the couch. “Here, let me try again.” 

He watched as she gave a short, polite bow, hands clasped before her. A neat and polite introduction, complete with a soft smile as she rose to meet his gaze again. “My name is Midoriya Inko. I’m a graduate law student at Kyushu University, and I was hoping you could take my Sensei’s Quirk.”

Well. 

How on earth was he supposed to kill such a charming, polite young woman when she came to him with such an interesting request such as that?

He couldn’t, of course, was the answer.

---

Inko always had trouble with authority.

Even when she was very young she’d been prone to doing what she was told she shouldn’t just because an adult told her not too. Her father - in what faint and blurring memories she had of him before his death - used to call her his little revolutionary and would laugh over the hijinks her stubborn nature would produce. Then again, her father had his reasons to support the wholesale refusal to bend to the whims of authority. 

Trying to take down the corrupt system the government had put in place had been the cause of his death, after all.

Her mother had been far less amused by Inko’s acts of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. Always begging Inko to please just follow the rules just once honey with a perpetually exhausted look on her face. Inko’s only picture of her mother - a snapshot of the entire family at a park, her small frame held in her father’s arms a month before he would be killed - showed Nana Shimura with a wide, infectious smile in place. It felt odd looking at it in years to come, as Inko could only recall her mother looking mournful and sad in those last days.

It had been Kotaro that was the well behaved one of the two of them. Thirteen minutes older than her, he took the responsibilities of the eldest sibling with a seriousness that was almost frightening at times when they’d been children.

He’d been the one to tell her not to get into trouble, the one to reprimand her when she misbehaved. The one to tell her not to sneak out when they were teenagers in one of their many foster homes after their mother had given them up. Rule abiding, strict and, as they’d grown, more and more obsessed with control. Of her, of their situation, of whatever he could. A strangling, grasping bid at a control that had only led their already rocky relationship to splinter even further.

Her last conversation with him before she’d stopped speaking to him completely he’d told her that she should be a quiet housewife. She’d gone and applied to law school the very next day.

She still found herself wondering if that had been Kotaro being clever. Using her own contrary impulses to make her commit to something she’d always wanted to do but been too uncertain about to try and follow. It would have been the kindest he’d been to her in years if it was true, and she’d been too afraid to reach out to him to find out for fear that it wasn’t.

Instead she focused on her studies, focused on being the person she wanted to be instead of the person she’d been forced to become over the years. Not the abandoned daughter of a hero that had to retire too soon, but someone who was able to take the rules she’d been so long rebelling against and reshape them. Twist them under her hands until they settled into something she could believe in. Something she could follow.

At nineteen, after careful consideration and one less-than-helpful conversation with her friend Mitsuki she changed her name to Midoriya. On her twentieth birthday enjoying the fact that she could - legally - drink herself into oblivion, she cut her waist long hair off in a single ugly cut with the kitchen scissors. The next hour was spent in laughter as Mitsuki’s shy fashion student boyfriend Masaru fixed the mess as best he could. At twenty-one she clutched her best friend’s hand and gritted her teeth as a tattoo artist brought to life a stylized kitsune on her shoulder. A mark of the trickster she wished to become. And in between all of that, she proved herself to the academic world at large and earned herself a full ride to Kyushu University’s much lauded law program.

The work was challenging, equal parts exhilarating and mind-numbingly boring. She spent her days working hard to get top marks in every class, to ace every test, and impress every teacher with her sharp wit and unbending will. Her nights were filled with studying and working whatever jobs she could pick up to cover what her scholarships didn’t cover. Mitsuki teased her that she would get wrinkles from squinting at so many books, but her friend was always supportive. 

Years passed, semesters flying by in almost a dream at times, whisking her closer and closer to graduation and her dream of reshaping the system into something she could believe in. Despite her exhaustion, she’d found herself happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Which of course was the exact moment that it all started crashing down.

It started with one of the girl’s in the same program as Inko suddenly dropping the ball on her studies, the other woman’s grades began plummeting at an alarming rate. The girl -  Shibata Aiko - looked ragged and exhausted, unable to focus and eventually being dropped from the program entirely due to the issues with her academic performance. 

A few weeks later it was another female student shutting herself away in her dorm room for an entire week. The girl finally left her dorm looking haggard and sick, refusing to speak to anyone as she walked barefoot out into the wider world and immediately attempted to throw herself in front of a bus. 

Then one of Inko’s senpai’s - kind and serious Hanako who had mentored Inko briefly when she’d first joined the school - had what could only be called a breakdown in the school library. Screaming and crying as she began tearing up law books and flinging chairs.

Each incident was quickly handled and waved away as young women not suited for the high expectations and difficulties of such a high ranking university. Most of Inko’s classmates had been, if not content to accept that information, at least too exhausted by their own heavy workloads to question further.

But Inko never was good at accepting the will of authority.

#My writing #Fic snippet #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #Inko Midoriya #kotaro shimura #all for one #all for one is midoriya hisashi #dad for one #inko x one for all #inko is nana shimura's daughter #rebellious inko midoriya #all for one is completely smitten #bnha au #all for one: this is the story of how I met your mother

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Red Robin: Gourmet Burgers and Brews

Summary: Tim gets sued by a burger joint.

Read here on AO3!

“I can’t believe this.” “You had it coming, man.” “I can’t believe this.” “You got cocky. It happens.” Duke shrugs. “This is just the universe’s way of reminding you that the laws of society don’t cease to apply when you’re a trust fund baby who’s also the CEO of a billion-dollar company.” “But they don’t even know any of that! I could be poor for all they know.” “A poor guy with state-of-the-art equipment and weapons.” “Maybe I got it at the Salvation Army,” Tim says. “They don’t know me, they don’t know my life.” “How did you even get this?” Duke asks, picking up the thin pile of documents to look them over again. “I’m guessing they didn’t mail it here.” Tim sighs, pillowing his head on his arms where they rest on the tabletop. “A pizza guy delivered it to me while I was patrolling in the east district. Looked scared out of his mind when he talked to me.” “This is why I do the Tony Stark thing and never let people hand me things. Keeps you out of legal trouble.” Duke takes the document on top of the stack and starts folding it into an airplane. Tim frowns. “I thought his reason was a trauma thing.” “Whatever, I have trauma too. Like watching you freak out over getting served between ass-kickings. It’s terrifying.” “What’s going on?” Bruce asks as he enters the kitchen. He charts a path straight for the freezer, taking out a carton of his favorite banana ice cream—the devil of all ice creams. It’s an insult just to have it in the house. “Tim’s getting sued by Red Robin,” Duke says with glee. Tim drops his chin on the table in misery. “But...you’re Red Robin. Is this for some identity-protection scandal?” “Nope,” Tim says. He pushes the legal documents across the table. Bruce picks them up curiously. “The restaurant is suing me for violating their copyright restrictions. Apparently they got offended that I borrowed their name, even though I’m technically not the one who came up with the idea of Red Robin in the first place.” Bruce’s eyebrows raise as he peruses the details of the lawsuit. “Wow. They’re serious about this.” “Yep.” “Are you going to fight it?” Tim shrugs. “I mean, I have to, right? I can’t just come up with a new name and costume design willy-nilly. Plus, I just started getting recognized as Red Robin. No more being called ‘the new guy’ in newspaper headlines. I can’t just give that up.” “For the record,” Duke says, holding up a finger, “I called this months ago.” “You did not.” “Oh, yeah? Ask Jason. I bet him fifty bucks three months ago that the Red Robin chain would sue your ass before the new year. Perfect timing, too. I can use the money to fix my Signal-cycle.” “You need to stop calling it that.” “I will never stop calling it that.” “I’m sure you can work this out with the company’s board,” Bruce says. “The Wayne Foundation can donate a few thousand dollars to their Gotham branch or something. Easy fix.” Tim rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, because they’ll never question why Bruce Wayne of all people is trying to solve a vigilante’s problems with money.” Bruce shrugs. “Well, I tried.” He goes to the silverware drawer for a spoon, effectively abandoning his son’s crisis. Duke folds another paper into a lopsided crane that, if anything, looks more like a demented pterodactyl. “You could always sell out and endorse them.” “What does that even mean?” “You know, buy a few burgers. Do a commercial or two. Get their logo printed on your cape. Advertising goes a long way in the world of business.” Tim snorts. “Yeah, like I’ll just go and turn my vigilante career into an advertising platform. I don’t even eat at Red Robin.” “Doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice,” Bruce chimes in, eating his disgusting banana ice cream straight out of the carton. “Unless you want to figure out a new identity and color scheme.” “Hm.” Tim strokes his chin, as if he has any hope of ever growing a beard. Maybe it is time I get an original nom de plume. I’ve been riding Jason’s coattail my whole life, first with Robin and now Red Robin. I should do something original for once.” He squints in thought. “Like...the Goose. I can wear a white costume with a feathered cape. It’ll be cool, like ABBA.” Duke makes a face. “That’s an image I’ll never get out of my head.” “Or I could do a dragon theme, like a dark green color scheme with scaly leather boots. And a tail!” “Do you want me to vomit? Is that your goal here?” Tim throws a balled-up napkin at him. “Fuck off, it’s a good idea.” “Because all of Gotham wants to watch you parade around in scaly leather kinkwear.” “Why not? Bruce does it.” “I’m leaving this conversation now,” Bruce announces. “Good luck with your legal troubles, Tim.” “I’ve got it!” Tim says after he’s gone, snapping his fingers. “Drake!” “Drake?” “Drake. It’s perfect.” “No.” “Why not?” “It’s too obvious.” “Which is precisely why it’s perfect. No one will suspect a thing.” Duke can’t believe that he ever thought Tim was the smart one. Nobody in this family is the smart one; they all share a single brain cell and Barbara has full custody of it. “When people google you, the only results they get will be of the rapper. Is that really what you want your legacy to be?” “That’s...actually a good point.” Tim clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Damn it.” “If you call up the Red Robin corporation I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear you want to advertise for them,” Duke says. “Just saying.” “No. No way. Mark my words, Duke—I will never sink so low as to publicly endorse a burger joint while taking down criminals. I’m an adult. I have pride. And I can come up with a way to get out of this lawsuit without selling out to capitalism.” -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Knock it off.” “Hold still, Timbo. I need to get a good picture of this.” “It’s not funny.” “It is very funny. It’s like an early birthday present, just for me.” Jason snaps a few more pictures with his phone, not even trying to be subtle about it. His helmet is off so Tim can properly see his shit-eating grin. “This might just be the best day of my entire life.” “You’re an ass.” “And you’re a dork with a gourmet burgers and brews logo on your back. You’re in no position to be judging anyone.” “It’s only for a month,” Tim reminds him. “All I have to do is patrol with this every night and eat at the restaurant in costume once a week. Then I’m free.” Jason laughs. “Yeah, I’m definitely sending this to the entire superhero community. They are going to lose their fucking minds.” “You wouldn’t dare.” Tim lunges for the phone, but Jason is half a foot taller and keeps it just out of reach. “Too late, it’s already sent.” “I hate you.” “Fine, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about we get dinner, on me?” Jason’s grin widens. “Say...at Red Robin?” “Choke on shit and die.”

#i'm a serious writer clearly #this was barely edited whoops #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #robin #idiot duckboy #duke thomas #dc signal #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #fanfiction #fanfic

[justlookfrightened]

If you're still taking them... would you mind doing random 8?

Prompt is from this list. Random 8: “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”

“So you’re okay with it?” Bitty asked.

Jack stood up after rummaging in the fridge and coming up with a protein drink.

“Sure,” he said. “If you are. They’re your family.”

Bitty snorted.

“My relatives, sure,” Bitty said. “But it means they’ll be here when you get back from your first roadie this season. You’re you wouldn’t rather have your home to yourself?”

“Your home, too,” Jack said. “And you’ll be here, right? So as long you don’t mind, why not?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Just … do you like these cousins?” Jack asked. “I mean, you don’t think they’re just using you?”

“Using me? You mean besides asking to stay here? How?”

“You know,” Jack said. “For your connections, money …”

“Jack, I hate to break this to you now, but I don’t have any money,” Bitty said. “It’s like the Samwell financial aid office knew how much money I had -- to the penny -- and made sure they got every last cent of it. I am bringing no money into this household.”

Jack shrugged.

“What’s mine is yours,” he said. “So yes, you have money. And you are a big name at every college in New England, even the ones that aren’t into hockey, because of --”

“The first out captain thing?”

“I was going to say winning the Frozen Four,” Jack said. “But probably both.”

“Anyway, no, the girls have always been fine,” Bitty said. “I mean, they’re five years younger so I don’t know them that well. They were 13 when I went to Samwell. I guess I’m more surprised that Aunt Connie and Uncle Bubba would let them stay with us since we’re living in sin.”

“Uncle Bubba?” Jack asked. “Never mind. They’re both looking at colleges in Boston?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “They’re twins, and they’ve always been in the same school. A lot of the time the same classes, because they’re both smart. So they decided they wanted to go to different colleges but try to be in the same city.”

“And Boston has plenty of options,” Jack said.

“Yup,” Bitty said. “I mean, Atlanta has options too, but if they want to get out of Georgia, good for them.”

*

By the time Jack left on his roadie, Bitty was glad to have his cousins’ visit to prepare for. He made sure the linens in the guest bedroom and bathroom were fresh, he bought flowers (at the supermarket, but still), laid in a supply of Coca-Cola, and and baked cookies before they arrived.

That helped take his mind off Jack being gone for three nights … which was fine, really. Last season, they almost never got to spend three nights in a row together at all. Bitty had been spoiled by spending the whole summer with Jack, and now he had to get used to having Jack gone almost as much as he was home. Maybe Bitty would spend a lot of time at the Haus 2.0.

But for now, he had Missy and Ellie coming for two nights and four college tours. Northeastern, Tufts, Boston University and Boston College. It was going to be exhausting, but at least Bitty knew his way around and was used to driving in Boston. Although it might make more sense to do the city ones on the T, and more fun for the girls. 

They arrived at Logan decked out in jeans and hoodies, with jackets over their arms, despite beautiful October weather. Bitty clucked to himself, but remembered how cold sixty degrees felt his first year in Massachusetts.

“What do y’all want to do besides visit the schools?” Bitty said. “Although I think that will take most of our time. And you know I live like an hour away from here, right?”

“We know, Di -- Eric,” Missy said. “Sorry. Aunt Suzanne said no one here calls you Dicky. I figured you might not like it anymore.”

“Anymore?” Ellie snorted. “Did he ever?”

“It’s fine,” Eric said. “I guess if I had my choice, you could call me Eric. Or Bitty. That’s what most people here call me.”

“You don’t mind that?” Missy asked. 

“No,” Bitty said. “It was what my team called me, and what Jack’s whole team calls me.”

“Speaking of,” Ellie said. “Any chance we’ll meet any hockey players?”

“Not Falconers,” Bitty said. “They’re on the road this week. Jack’ll be back very early Saturday, but of course you’ve met him.”

He led the way to the car and headed for a public lot halfway between Northeastern and Boston University.

“Is the traffic always like this?” Missy asked.

“What do you mean?” Bitty said. “It’s not as bad as Atlanta.”

“Maybe not as many cars,” Ellie said. “But they go every which way.”

After an introductory talk and a tour, Bitty took them to Amelia’s for Mexican food for lunch before repeating the routine at BU. Bitty found himself wondering what it would have been like to go to school in the middle of the city instead of in a college town like Samwell. Until now, all he’d seen of the campuses were their ice rinks.

He made them dinner at home, and enjoyed the cooking and washing up and listening to the girls chatter and gossip. It also gave him time to make a couple of pies for the following night.

The next day started with Tufts and ended at Boston College. Dinner was actually at Haus 2.0, where Ransom, Holster, Lardo and Shitty regaled Missy and Ellie with tales of Bitty’s misadventures as a frog.

“Pies just appear?” Missy said. “I know that feeling, around you and Aunt Suzanne. Somehow the baking bug missed Mom.”

“If you guys end up here, I’m sure Bits will deliver,” Holster said. “Having him around was half the reason we decided to stay in Boston. Another beer, Rans?”

Bitty, of course, was not drinking, since he was not only chaperoning his cousins but also driving. This would make three each for Ransom and Holster, which was … probably not good for their long-term health if they were doing it every day, but also not enough to get either of them drunk. Lardo had a beer with dinner, and Shitty disappeared onto the balcony and came back smelling of marihuana.

“Eric?” Ellie asked when they got in the car. “Did your friend go outside to smoke weed?”

“Uh … yes,” Bitty said. “Which is legal here, if you buy it from a dispensary and are over 21. Just so you know, it’ll still get you in trouble if not expelled from college.”

“No duh,” Missy said. “It’s not like we’ve never been around anyone who smoked weed before. I just didn’t expect you to hang around with potheads.”

“Shitty a pothead?” Bitty was indignant. Shitty did smoke pretty regularly, but he also was pulling top marks at Harvard Law, and Bitty rarely saw him too stoned to function responsibly. “I don��t think I’d use that word. He’s one of the smartest people I know, and if that’s how he relaxes, I’m not going to judge him.”

“Did you ever smoke weed?” Missy asked. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Bitty said.

“Pretty sure that is an answer,” Missy said.

“But don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone,” Ellie said. “What’s the deal with Ransom and Holster? Are they together? I couldn’t tell. Or are they available?”

“Not to you,” Bitty said. “You’re seventeen. They’re grown adults.”

“But they’re not together?” Missy persisted. 

Bitty shrugged. 

“I suppose it means what you mean by together,” he said. “They lived together the whole time I new them, got jobs together and moved in together after college, so I’d say their relationship is primary to both of them. But they also both date. One of the things I learned in college is that nothing is as black-and-white as lots of people seem to think. But those are lessons you’ll learn with people your own age.”

The girls fell quiet, and Bitty wondered if he’d been too harsh.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s not for me to tell you what to do when you get to college. But for now, I have to keep an eye out for you. And if you want a long lecture on power dynamics in relationships, I can set something up with Shitty.”

By the time Bitty went to bed that night, he was glad his cousins came, and even happier that he would be taking them back to the airport to head home tomorrow. It might be nice if they ended up in Bostpn for school, but if that happened, they’d be busy with their own friends and lives, and he could just drop in with pie and sympathy from time to time. Teenagers were exhausting.

*

Bitty woke up when Jack came in, probably somewhere around 3 a.m., and promptly followed Jack’s instructions to go back to sleep. He slept better than he had since Jack left, cocooned in the warm bed with his warmer fiance. 

He didn’t even wake up when Jack, who by rights should be more exhausted than he was, got up in the morning. Or at least it appeared that way, when he rolled over to snuggle into Jack’s said and found only cool sheets.

It was clearly full daylight, so Bitty checked his phone. It was only 8:30, but probably time to get up if he was going to get the girls to the airport in time for their 12:30 flight. There should still be time for pancakes if he could get them up soon.

He washed up and headed for the kitchen, drawn by the sound of giggles, a little surprised that they were already up.

He almost couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes: Ellie and Missy, attempting to cook (French toast, maybe?) in his kitchen, but overcome with laughter as Jack, clearly just returned from a run, tried to figure out who was who. He wasn’t helped by the way they kept switching names on him just to make it worse.

Bitty stepped into the kitchen and removed the smoking, empty skillet from the burner. 

“Ellie,” he said, pointing, “and Missy, didn’t your mother tell you not to leave a pan on a hot burner unattended?”

“We’re right here,” Ellie said. 

“And yet the pan was smoking,” Bitty said. “You also should ask before cooking in someone else’s kitchen.”

“We just wanted to make breakfast to thank you for letting us stay,” Missy said. “Mom said we should.”

“She said you should start cooking in my kitchen without asking?” Bitty asked, because Aunt Connie set the standard for possessiveness over her kitchen. Which, come to think of it, might be why Ellie and Missy didn’t have any kitchen sense.

“She just said we should do something,” Missy said.

“Well, I’ll consider myself thanked, and you two can go pack your things,” Bitty said. “Breakfast in twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure we can’t stay and help?” Ellie said. “We’re mostly packed.”

“Maybe you could teach us,” Missy said.

It was her eyes straying away to Jack that gave her away. 

“If you want,” Bitty said sweetly. “Jack can help, too.”

“Me?” said Jack, putting his water glassin the sink. “What do you need, bud?”

“Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?” Bitty asked. “You know, for kitchen safety and all that.”

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic #prompt fill

[mediaevalmusereads]

A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby. By Vanessa Riley. New York: Zebra, 2020.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Rogues and Remarkable Women #1

Summary:   When headstrong West Indian heiress Patience Jordan questioned her English husband's mysterious suicide, she lost everything: her newborn son, Lionel, her fortune—and her freedom. Falsely imprisoned, she risks her life to be near her child—until The Widow's Grace gets her hired as her own son’s nanny. But working for his unsuspecting new guardian, Busick Strathmore, Duke of Repington, has perils of its own. Especially when Patience discovers his military strictness belies an ex-rake of unswerving honor—and unexpected passion . . . A wounded military hero, Busick is determined to resolve his dead cousin’s dangerous financial dealings for Lionel’s sake. But his investigation is a minor skirmish compared to dealing with the forthright, courageous, and alluring Patience. Somehow, she's breaking his rules, and sweeping past his defenses. Soon, between formidable enemies and obstacles, they form a fragile trust—but will it be enough to save the future they long to dare together?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: racism, blood, violence, allusions to suicide, imprisonment, and non-voluntary institutionalization

Overview: I first learned of Vanessa Riley while reading an article about women of color and historical romance, so when I finished a rather confusing (and depressing?) read, I decided to see which of Riley’s books my library had on offer. This novel originally caught my eye because of the marketing: a multi-cultural regency romance? Seems like just the thing I’m looking for! Unfortunately, the writing style just didn’t gel with me, so for that reason, I can’t give this book more than 2 stars.

Writing: While I can respect the easy-to-digest prose style of most romances, Riley’s style didn’t work for me for a number of reasons. First, I found the use of the first person jarring. If you know me, then you’ll know that first person narration feels unnatural to me (unless the book is self-conscious about the way perspective is being used). But I also found the first person strange because Riley’s book alternates between Patience’s POV (which is in first person) and Busick’s POV (which is in third person). While the shift in POV was a nice delineation between the two characters’ perspectives, I ultimately had some trouble losing myself in the story because there was such a marked shift. I found myself preferring Busick’s chapters over Patience’s because I found it easier to let the prose just kind of wash over me.

Riley’s prose style is also a bit too reliant on dialogue and rhetorical questions for my taste. A large portion of this book involves characters talking to one another, which would be fine except I felt like Riley used dialogue in order to tell readers things rather than show them. The dialogue would repeat certain ideas or events over and over again, and the flow of the conversations didn’t feel natural, as topics would change abruptly or characters would speak in ways that didn’t feel genuine. I did like moments when Patience and Busick would have a little tit-for-tat; Riley is strongest when writing Patience's witty comebacks to Busick’s insistence on military order.

But because there was so much dialogue, there wasn’t much room for anything else, and I felt like Riley wasn’t quite sure of how to create suspense without dialogue. As a result, there are a lot of rhetorical questions; “Was she a spy?” “Did he have some secret in his past?” and the like. I feel like these types of questions popped up every other page, and part of the reason they were relied on so much may have been because Riley had a tendency to tell rather than show. Riley would point blank tell us what her characters were thinking or feeling, as well as what actions they were taking, and as a result, the narrative (and characters) felt flat.

Structurally, I also think the book could have used some tweaking. Early on, I felt like Riley was using a lot of expositional dialogue to dump a lot of info on the reader, and Patience’s internal monologue would make allusions to characters or events in ways that felt awkward and/or not relevant in the moment. I even had some trouble determining what exactly was going on at first because the book starts out with an exciting scene, and the circumstances that created that scene were unclear (unless you read the book summary first). To help with this, it would have been beneficial to get some kind of prologue, and if Riley didn’t want a prologue that depicts Patience being separated from her son or being victimized by the antagonist, then maybe we can see her escaping Bedlam or joining the Widow’s Grace - anything to give the book the space to establish a setting.

Plot: This book primarily follows our heroine, Patience Jordan, as she tries to regain custody of her son, Lionel. Following her husband, Colin’s, suicide, his uncle Markham seized control of their estate at Hamlin and claimed guardianship over Lionel. The reason? To gain access to Patience’s father’s money. To cover up the truth, Markham had Patience committed to Bedlam, so now, Patience must find evidence that Markham fabricated this insidious plot - evidence that she thinks is contained in some legal documents hidden within the family home.

However, Lionel’s legal guardian is not Markham, but Busick Strathmore, Colin’s cousin. Wanting to do right by his family, Busick seizes control of Hamlin and establishes himself as Lionel’s adoptive father. Not sure if Busick can be trusted, Patience gets herself hired as a wet nurse for Lionel, and uses her knowledge of the house to look for the legal documents that will prove Markham’s guilt, thus preventing her from being separated from Lionel again.

On paper, this plot looked really intriguing, but in practice, not a whole lot happened. Most of our time is spent reading the dialogue between Patience and various other characters, and we don’t actually get to see much of her snooping around, risking getting caught, and so on. Events didn’t seem to build on one another, so I mostly felt like I was getting character snapshots rather than an actual narrative.

There’s also something of a side plot where a mysterious “ghost” causes some minor trouble around the house. Personally, I think this plot could have been more centralized; if Riley had gone full Gothic romance (I’m thinking Jane Eyre because Jane gets hired to care for a child and Thornfield is spooky), I think this book would have been a delight. But the existing tone is a little too light, so it didn’t quite achieve the desired effect.

I also think that the whole Widow’s Grace stuff removed a lot of agency from Patience. While I liked that Patience had friends - especially friends in high places that could wield social influence to help her - having an organized, underground band of women was a little much for me. I would have preferred to see Patience concoct plans and discover information on her own, rather than having the Widow’s Grace act as the architect.

Characters: Patience, our heroine, is fairly likeable in that she’s brave, determined, and fiercely loyal to the people she cares about. I really enjoyed following her as she tried to search for her legal papers, outsmart Busick, and bring her companions along for the ride. I also liked that she had a lot of complex emotions surrounding her husband’s death; while the marriage wasn’t happy (and she has a lot of feelings about being treated as an Other), she also feels guilty about potentially contributing to her husband’s depression and wonders what she is going to tell her son about his father. I liked seeing her try to work through all these emotions, all while remaining focused on her goals.

Busick, our hero, is also fairly complex, but my appreciation for his complexity is dampened by some of the cheesiness that surrounds his military outlook on life. Busick is a former soldier who is working through his feelings about being injured in battle. Two years before the story begins, Busick loses his leg and must either use a prosthetic or a wheelchair, and he has a lot of issues with the perceptions surrounding his disability. As a result, he tries to hide the fact that he’s missing a leg; he never uses his wheelchair (except when alone) and plays it off like his leg just isn’t healing right. This kind of internalized ableism could have been really interesting to read about, especially since there was an opportunity for Busick to learn more about his value as something other than a soldier. However, Busick’s desperate desire to be useful to the war effort came off as fairly ridiculous; not only does he bring soldiers into his home and conduct drills in his yard (wouldn’t that be done at a camp or base?) but he tries to put Lionel on a strict military-style schedule and requires people to witness him as he rides a horse around the lawn (to prove his strength?). His past as a notorious rake isn’t really utilized effectively either; while we get allusions to his amorous activities, I didn’t really see how it was relevant. Did the military give him more discipline and now he’s reformed? Does he find himself slipping back into his old ways now that he can no longer fight on the battlefield? How does this situation with Patience and Lionel challenge all that? I think I would have liked to see Busick grow a little more, maybe by having him use his guardianship of Hamlin and Lionel as a way to “prove” that he’s changed from rake to responsible, disciplined adult (and his disability threatens that by making him seem incapable, so he has to deal with that as well). And while there were some hints at those kinds of things, they really weren’t central to his story.

Side characters were fairly enjoyable in that they had sweet relationships with the heroine or hero. I particularly enjoyed the relationship Patience had with Jemina - her fellow inmate at Bedlam who suffers from amnesia. I appreciated that Riley didn’t make Jemina seem “crazy,” but instead, she was a capable woman who demonstrates genuine affection and concern for her friend. I also liked that Busick had a similar support in Gantry, a viscount who is helping Busick with Hamlin (and with self-acceptance?) while also struggling with his own family issues. Lady Shrewsbury, the head of the Widow’s Grace, was interesting for the role she played in using her social power to get Patience into Hamlin, but otherwise, I didn’t really like the idea of the Widow’s Grace (because it removes some agency that could have been given to Patience instead).

Markham, our antagonist, is barely present, so I don’t really have many thoughts on him. While his actions were sneaky and abhorrent, and I appreciated that Riley didn’t use him to showcase a bunch of on-page misery, I also thought he was underutilized.

Romance: I hate to say it, but I think Patience and Busick lacked chemistry. I couldn’t quite see how each character enriched each other’s emotional lives; Patience seemed to like Busick because he was fatherly towards Lionel and because he was kind, while Busick seemed to like Patience because she was pretty and defiant. I wish Riley had done a little more to make them feel made for one another; maybe Patience challenges Busick’s rigid outlook on life and shows him that he has value beyond just being a soldier. Maybe Busick shows Patience that she matters as a person - something that was lacking in her marriage to Colin - or that she doesn’t have to take on all her burdens herself. There were hints of some of these things, but because of the writing style, I thought we were told rather than shown that the two characters had feelings for one another.

I also think the romance lacked heat and longing. While not every romance has to be sexy and steamy, I do think that there should be some element of longing that plays out in how the characters interact physically. One place where Riley actually does this pretty well is when Patience discusses how well she works with Busick while taking care of Lionel at night - the two hand him over to one another and move around the room as if doing a “dance,” and they brush against one another and smell each other’s scent. But other than that, it felt like I was smacked in the face with statements like “I noticed his mouth and wondered what it would be like to kiss it” or “Didn’t you notice? He follows you with his eyes!” I personally like these physical moments to be a little more subtle and for them to build on one another without the author having to spell out what they mean for me.

TL;DR: A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby has an intriguing premise and good characters, but ultimately lacks a strong plot, gripping prose style, or steamy romantic chemistry. Most of what holds this book back is the overuse of dialogue and rhetorical questions to create suspense, as well as the tendency to tell not show. While I would love to rate this book higher, the prose just isn’t there.