#and it went both ways methinks. i understood him and he understood me

[weresprout]

[ If it helps any, no relationships can ever be confirmed because both you and your father are playable and that's against Roblox rules? ]

[ And, to be fair, not a lot of Toons canonically like Finn for whatever reason. Honestly, I think your canon interaction with him is a bit silly. is this flirting /t ]

Is it flirting? It may be

Everyone thinkz we dislike each other .. they're Wrong ... they cannot sense that we're Obviously flirting .. it's Silly Banter .. why can't they Tell ... /SILLY

[the-whispers-of-death]

In Need of a Drink

Uhh, so Death finally gets to be in a work. I've been meaning to write him and Stone together, so why not now? It will be fun, methinks.

This isn't really a part of any AU, it's just Stone living in his bunker. So uh, yay for Stone living his reclusive life.

I'm once again too lazy to proof-read this.

Word Count: 2, 088

Jason drove to the middle of nowhere, doing his best to make sure no one was following him. He had already used decoy cars in the city to ensure no one followed him, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He knew the friend he was visiting would appreciate his carefulness as well.

He went off the dirt path, maneuvering his car expertly through the dense area of trees until he got to the cabin—no, the bunker—his friend lived in. As soon as he saw the bunker, he stopped his car, knowing that there were traps along the perimeter of the property and he couldn't maneuver the car to not hit the traps.

He turned off the car and got out, locking the car as soon as he shut the car door. He knew well that his friend heard the car locking and so he made his way to the door, remembering all of the traps and where they were so he could avoid them.

Jason made it to the door of the bunker safely and unscathed and he lifted his hand, rapping against the door to knock the special knock specific to him. He knocked four times before waiting a whole minute—he had to look at his watch to make sure it was a minute—then he knocked four more times.

He waited patiently for Vikram to come open the door, knowing it'd take a little more time than it would for a normal person because of the sheer amount of locks the door had. The door was thick too, so he wouldn't be able to hear Vikram coming near the door and unlocking it.

"Jason?" Vikram asked when the door finally swung open, looking as paranoid as ever when he looked behind Jason to scan for anyone who wasn't supposed to know the bunker existed. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed company—and a drink," Jason replied, both men's voices being monotone as they talked together.

They were similar in many ways; both were the same height at six-foot-eight, both shielded their emotions underneath a cold and stoic demeanor, both were paranoid to the point it was a miracle anyone put up with them, and both had been abandoned by their fathers. Their similarities was the reason they gravitated towards each other as the other was often times the only one who understood what they were going through.

Vikram's dark brown eyes dropped to Jason's neck, noticing the absence of a collar around said throat. He stepped aside so Jason could come in. "Single again, huh? No wonder you feel like you need a drink. What was it this time?"

Jason walked into the bunker, taking off his shoes and placing them near the door next to Vikram's boots. "He wanted to marry me despite his words at the beginning of the relationship," he said, following Vikram deeper inside the bunker.

"So, the usual?"

"Yeah, the usual."

Jason's dark brown eyes looked around the sparse living room, noting there was no seating and there was no TV.

All that was in the living room were a couple of bookshelves full of astronomy and medical textbooks and a huge rug in the middle of the room with floor cushions to sit on if the rug wasn't enough for someone. It was an open floor plan with the kitchen only having a huge kitchen island to separate the kitchen from the living room. The kitchen had a huge spice rack mounted to the wall, full of so many spices that Vikram used to cook his family's cultural food.

All in all, the place wasn't much. Vikram never needed much and had never known what to do with more than the barest bare necessities. He grew up with not much and he would probably die with not much.

"I don't have any alcohol but I can give you a cup of chai," Vikram said, drawing Jason's attention to him. He walked into the kitchen and took out everything he needed, not giving Jason much of a choice.

"Chai would be most welcome." Jason walked over to the kitchen but didn't move to help. He stayed out of Vikram's space to let the man do his thing.

"How have you been, Vikram?"

Vikram's eyebrow raised at the question before going back to putting the pot on the stove and grinding up the spices. "I thought you came here to talk about you, not me."

"What's there to say? It's the same old, same old. I'm proposed to and I reject the proposal because I don't want to get married, just like I said when we first got together. The boyfriend proposing to me can't understand why I didn't change my mind after the years we've spent together and we just end up breaking up to save ourselves from resenting each other for the rest of the relationship. As I said, it's the usual shit. I want to know about you."

"You're just trying to not think about the fact that your relationships are failing left and right. You're hiding from the truth."

Jason's initial reaction was to grit his teeth in uneasiness at the realization that Vikram truly did know him better than he thought he did. A few seconds later, however, he relaxed.

As much as it pained him to know someone knew him well enough to know when he was trying hard to push his problems away, it also felt refreshing to know someone understood. After all, that was the point of him coming here.

Jason forced himself to nod in agreement. "I am hiding from the truth, or I'm trying to." He ran his hand over the top of his head, brushing the black curls out of his face. "I don't know what to do. I feel stuck in this loop of getting into relationships and then them falling apart years later. I'm getting too old for this, but I can't seem to find a way out."

Vikram continued to ground the spices he would need for the chai, too focused on his task to look at Jason while he spoke. "Perhaps it's time you accept that you're single—for the time being. Stop trying to be in a relationship. You had jumped into the last one three months after the previous boyfriend broke up with you. You no longer remember how to be alone."

"That's because I don't like to be alone. It reminds me of..."

Jason's words trailed off, his voice dying on his tongue. He didn't want to say the rest of the sentence because it would bring up the memories he wanted desperately to forget. He wished he could forget those days but it was a foolish task no matter how hard he tried.

However, Vikram knew what he was about to say. As usual.

"It reminds you of your days on the streets with no one in your corner, huh?" he asked, but he knew without Jason having to say it that he was right.

"But you're not alone, Jason. Not truly. You have three siblings who love to come visit you and vice versa. You have Ilariy who calls you daily. Your house might seem empty at times, but you're not alone. Not for long. You just need to be romantically alone. Just until you no longer feel like you have to have someone romantically in your life to be happy."

Vikram poured the spices, the water, and the tea leaves into the pot. He put a timer and put the lid on the pot so it could boil, going to where Jason was leaning against the kitchen counter.

Instinctively, his hands went to Jason's waist while Jason's hands rested on his burly and scarred arms. The touch wasn't abnormal for the two men, as they were a pair of physical touch lovers and they liked having at least a hand on someone when around others.

"You're not just here to get comfort about your failing relationships, are you? Are you finally going to confess your feelings for me?"

"I need you to stop trying to make jokes. You're terrible at them."

Jason's playful grumble made Vikram's lips twitch until he eventually lost his inner battle and graced the other man with a small smile. It made his brown eyes sparkle, made him seem so much brighter.

The crack in Vikram's stoic demeanor caused Jason's to crack as well as he let out a deep laugh. This started a laughing fit, both men unable to hold eye contact with each other without bursting into laughter.

Their laughter died down as the timer went off after two minutes and Vikram pulled away. Jason felt a pang in his heart, missing the touch, but he buried it down as he thought about how nice the chai would taste when it was all done.

Vikram went back to the stove and lifted the lid, adding in sugar and milk. He turned down the fire so it would simmer for three minutes.

Once that was done, he aerated it.

Jason watched Vikram pour the chai out into two cups after it was aerated, watching him like a hawk. Despite seeing the other man make it, he found himself instinctively eyeing the cup when it was placed beside him on the kitchen counter.

"I'm sorry," he said when he noticed Vikram raising an eyebrow at the hesitation. He picked up the cup, the warmth of the chai seeping into his bones and calming him.

"Don't be," Vikram answered, taking a sip of his own chai. He walked over after putting everything in the sink to wash later and sat down on the floor so he was facing Jason. "I remember you having a rule, rule 15 if I recall correctly. Never take food or a drink from someone, even those whose names you know. Always be wary of being poisoned and/or drugged."

He gave Jason a curious look as he watched Jason finally take a sip of the chai.

"I do wonder why that is a rule. But then again, I'm one to talk."

Jason huffed in amusement. "Your paranoia about food and drink is unfounded. Something your father told you to scare you." He chuckled like his next words were meant to be funny. "I've actually had my drink and food drugged before."

"Wait, you've actually been drugged before?"

"By some of my exes."

Vikram's eyes widened in shock. "Your exes drugged you?" he asked, mouth dropping open. "Plural?"

Jason took in his friend's shocked expression, memorizing it as this was a rare sight. It was a cute sight, he decided.

He took more sips of the chai, not saying a thing in response to the bomb he dropped.

"Are you seriously not going to answer me? Jason?"

"I can't have you knowing everything about me."

"Now you're going to tell me you've actually been stabbed in the back before and that's where you got the fear of turning your back on someone from." Vikram took a sip of chai and his eyebrows furrowed when Jason didn't laugh at his words. "Seriously? You've been stabbed in the back?"

"I've had a very eventful life, Vikram." Jason finished his chai, setting the cup back down next to him on the counter. "A very eventful life."

The two men chatted for a little while longer before Jason noted the time. It was getting late and while he knew his friend would definitely allow him to stay for dinner, he wanted to get back to his furnished house to eat.

Vikram walked him to the door and grabbed him before Jason could open the door. He spun the other man around and pulled him in for a tight hug.

"Don't be a stranger while you're relearning how to be alone, okay?"

Jason wrapped his arms around Vikram as well, squeezing tight before letting go. He smiled at his friend to soothe him.

"I could never forget you, Vik."

He turned back to the door and unlocked all of the locks. He then heaved the heavy door open, stepping out into the cool air. He heard the door close behind him, Vikram no doubt already locking the door in his friend's absence.

Jason walked to his car, feeling lighter than he did when he first came here. As he walked back to his car, he knew what he needed to do.

It was time to start a new chapter in his life.

MDNI & Reblog banners made by @/cafekitsune

Oof. I thought this would be shorter than it ended up being, but alas these two men can be yappers when they're together. I don't know why they're like that, but they are.

I had no true plan for this, but that's okay. I'm just glad to be writing for these two.

I will say that once again, it felt so wrong to write out a special knock used to identify someone to Stone. I swear I cringe because Stone is doing it in my head. As if he's real and I shouldn't be writing how the special knock in case of someone using it. (He's very weird, okay.)

Requests are open! Please look at "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting anything NSFW!

[photos-or-inkblots]

season 6 rewatch bits

6x01 mmm i can tell where the narrative center shifted, we went from the flashbacks from Rewind and literally one mention of Daisy quaking the earth. not one mention of the mutinies, the infighting, the Odium vs Centipede serum? also no 5x14 which is... pivotal, to say the least. we went straight to Coukson and Fitz dying and the reassurance of Fitz being out there, just feeling like we're seeing a different perspective of season 5 here (Jemma's) also it's like we're not going to resolve the conflict, just the deaths which is... something

welp Jemma's decision-making is still stuck in season 5... or it's just really plot-driven (probably both)

6x02 this show has a problem with introducing side characters only to kill them not long after. it started with Hand, then Idaho and Hartley, Trip, Andrew, all the notable inhumans under Jiaying, Mace and Burrows, Fox, Keller, who's next? ah, damn it, Davis is next

6x03 to even think about the fact that someone thought and wrote 6x03 to fruition is... damn lol im sure Elizabeth and Chloe had fun filming this

6x04 first episode without Daisy in it. sigh

OH MY GOD TREVOR KHAN I MISSED YOU

LOOOOOOOVE THAT REVEAL PLS though ain't that every "Skye is secretly a shield agent" fanfic

ew not this Remorath Rumble. i mean, okay, make a fortune with what you went through i get it, that's your business. but shit i draw the line at sexualizing a real person, who the hell even thought of this?

lols Sequioa does not give a Shit i respect that so much

May's face card is so 😩

6x05 again i will say YO-YO FACE CARD IS SO PRISTINE pls i love this trend of "i will look sooo pretty to compensate for how the plot treated me" tbh they need it

oh those smashcuts of May and Coulson in Tahiti to May facing Sarge is just... damn uncalled for

6x06 not much to say about this 'cause i saw a rewatch of this not long ago. all in all, it's a very creative way to portray trauma, like when Jemma was thinking about a memory, Mack physically manifests. or when they thought about Coulson recruiting them for 616, they actually lived it. very very creative and it's interesting did before it was cool and wandavision copied did it 😗✌️

one concern though (you think someone like me would stay silent about a FS centric episode? in your dreams lmao), "we don't fully understand it." Jemma Simmons, who was there in the aftermath of the time loop, with at least 2 PhDs, wasn't able to piece it all together? please. idk about y'all but i'm pretty sure i understood it clearly: time monolith shard plugged into a resonator in future!Z1 liquifies the monolith in their present (instead of shooting the vibrations directly at the monolith like with the space one in S3, the time one could be affected, as it could, through time). it was then that Robin Hinton foresaw that future and searched for Enoch who has the resources to have the team be at the time monolith for when the resonator works in 2091 and the time monolith liquifies. Fitz creates time travel by designing the resonator that 2091-ers would be able to use, but here's the thing: the Chronicoms want to go back, not forward. SHIELD can only do the latter by this point. if there was someone who could point a resonator towards the time monolith in like, 5CE, they just might have a chance in saving Chronyca-2, but now, SHIELD doesn't have that kind of intel. to quote Skye fron Pilot, you've got nothing. i see that this is an attempt to make Fitz and Simmons non-expendable and y'know, "central" to the plot and maybe it doesn't work for me because i think it falls flat (because i've pieced some stuff together). look, this science fiction is grasping at straws and if my hypothesis is right, it's also... unnecessary. so yeah. yikes 😬

6x07 lol did Deke not get the Daisy is a hacker memo lmao i get it now, mack's making him useful

i am obsessed with how done Daisy is with Deke

"he was turning into a dragon" methinks they got Netflix in space

ohhhh Coulson's memories, I see you. That was definitely May the first time, the second's Daisy? idk what to make of all those blobs lol omg i turned out to be right !!!

you can feel the central narrative vibes as the camera closed in on Fitz, y'all ain't subtle at all

6x08 i am not fluent in vague DAMNNNNNN who wouldn't want a director like this

lol Daisy introducing herself as a hacker after Deke showed off, idc if these two events are related or not that's lowkey petty and i am here for it

this apparently geared to be my least favorite episode of the season. FS are on board a ship that'll feed them to their imminent doom. and the whole 'nother Fitz thing, sorry this is just, weird. just like LMD!Coulson, though that introduction was less jarring (doesn't make it less weird) it's during times like this I wish Fitz survived the fall or he didn't make it back to the present, idk something to save this "replace Fitz with another Fitz" scenario. Coulson, at least, ended things on his own terms, despite the pushback, and even as an LMD, he has the option to shut down and be dismantled for good; SWORD was certainly able to do so with a lot of Vision's. Fitz, for all his faults, doesn't deserve to live while having missed 17-ish episodes all the while his family and colleagues ran around with another version of himself, though he did it to himself, he created time travel after all. but it also wouldn't have mattered much if he lived after 5x22?

6x09 "take him away, boys" ????? is he ok

LMFAO Deke is so convinced Daisy is into him, is he okay???? like, last season, he stepped back because he found out she was still in love with Lincoln but why is he not doing that now

6x10 interesting how Daisy was the one who pointed out that Izel had no memory of her hosts. no doubt she's recalled the last time someone was possessed... and boy did that end badly. she was also the one who went "you don't only have his face, you have his memories." in season 3

"i can still break through this glass." no cell nor prison could hold her and i love it

with that said, i'm glad Izel never got to Daisy. it felt like everyone rallied around her to keep her safe and i think that's so sweet

everyone's acting chops are so sick /pos as Izel jumped from one person to another, felt very consistent with Karolina Wydra's work as Izel, kind of had to shake myself and remember that no possession was actually occuring lol

Davis... sigh. tbh i've thought of Daisy catching him like how she caught Rosalind in season 3, and if her being possessed by Izel is an issue, she could quake her to oblivion, or have her and mack do that pincer move they will pull on Pachakutiq in the finale. ngl i feel like she's immune...? Simmons said Izel's powers were vibration-based and she oscillates from one person to another by setting herself in the spaces between atoms. what if Daisy emits the frequency she did on the space monolith, or even with the Shrike just an episode earlier? this was how the wristbands of immunity worked, and while it was helpful for the rest of the team, Daisy, quite frankly, doesn't need them. but going back to catching Davis and stuff, narratively it won't work imo. it'd be too sudden and it's not really personal for her, then again it's only personal to Fitzsimmons and i'm not sure what they could do here exactly, but tbh Daisy could end this whole damn thing two episodes too early but alas, for that very reason, they didn't have her do so. i am Pissed because we had FS running around thinking of how to repel vibrations when you literally have someone who could do it on the fly. y'all had her do it before (see 4x13 BOOM!) why not do it again?

couple of things to summarize my thoughts of 6x11-6x13 because i was itching to start season 7

Izel uses sonic frequencies. and they literally said her powers were "vibration based" YOU LITERALLY HAVE A VIBRATION MANIPULATOR. lots of people wouldn't have died. idk how that just sped through their heads and the first time around i was constantly complaining at the screen because my stem brain was so close to giving up the show. again. because of this.

sort of not liking how Simmons just took a back seat, trying to placate both Fitz and Deke. girl, idk how to tell you this but there's better company...? deke is a nuisance also this is such a sexist position to put Simmons in

Daisy is once again in-charge (de-facto, pretty sure she's deputy director at this point) and no one's batting an eye hence that tense atmosphere whenever Daisy's with fs. no emotional resolution for you, the writers said (that makes this even more lackluster tbh)

ooh and here's something bugging me about May and Daisy since i noticed it in season 4: they're not passing the Bechdel test. almost every conversation they've had was about Coulson here. sure, we're working through grief here but you really could've done a lot better

why do the writers like pitting Daisy and Elena against each other so damn much literally what gives

why couldn't Daisy just quake the shrike zombies into dust and oblivion...?

i'm going to admit seeing Fitz be so damn frustrated at Deke (like me) is pretty funny lol "What's West?" and he bellows "towards the bloody sun!" in full scottish rage. i respect his frustrations at Deke. tbh i go through Daisy being done to Fitz nearing a full blown rampage when it comes to this character. Jeff Ward may be a good actor but the character is Not It

TREVOR'S DEAD I HATE IT HERE

pls tell me Diaz is still alive, again, they have issues with introducing side characters by name only to kill them. Piper is an exception, and Davis was almost excempted.

The way my heart dropped at seeing May being impaled. Why does this need to happen, again?

Mulan reference! knew that pose looked familiar

i was so close to liking FS again 'cause they were about to sacrifice themselves (which honestly sounds like the peak of their arc) but boom the plot is knocking

ah so this is where we screw up the damn timeline.

this season doesn't necessarily fall flat, but it does feel... odd to me. it doesn't have the same vibe as the rest of the show, and it's probably because its central narrative as of late is Fitz and Simmons as opposed to, say, Coulson and Daisy. it's also probably why the bigger plot of season 7 felt idk, weird or rushed or something, because Coulson & Daisy are back as central to the narrative but it reverts back to FitzSimmons and their 5-year journey in deep space. Not that I mind it at all (okay, maybe a little), they're just not as compelling as Coulson and Daisy, the latter who I feel like we're just scratching the surface (idk about y'all but I would've loved to see a flashback episode on Daisy's life hopefully secret invasion or phase 5 supplies us with some of that). Simmons, personally, I think could've had her moments if it weren't for her character and arc being so intrinsically tied to Fitz; he's already had his run with the Doctor and recovery from his brain injury, and all of 5x05, kind of wished Jemma had her own, navigating her newfound authority in season 4, or having had to expand her capabilities in season 5 covering Fitz's ground for six episodes, or even rediscovering herself after Fitz died other than Maveth in season 3.

[callonpeevesie]

Imelda Rivera, Hermione Granger, Lakshmana for character meme

Imelda Rivera

First impression: I always really admired her strength and courage and felt bad for her for everything she went through.

Impression now: same as before but I would say my feelings for her are much deeper now. I always felt bad for her, but after thinking about her and writing her I think I truly understand her viewpoint and motivations. She's wonderfully written, methinks.

Favourite moment: probably the rooftop scene with Héctor. It really shows her pain and that she never wanted him to be forgotten.

Idea for a story: idk, something about her relationship with Coco and the rest of the family maybe. I don't really have any ideas?

Unpopular opinion: more of a headcanon than an opinion, but. She noticed Héctor first. The idea of Héctor pining over her is pretty popular, but you can't tell me she wasn't immediately swept off her feet by him.

Favourite relationship: Héctor! This one's no secret, I LOVE their ship. Iconic.

Favourite headcanon: she established a matrilineal family and Rivera is actually Imelda's surname. There was a proper meta about this somewhere that I'm too lazy to look for now, but the point is that it doesn't make sense for Miguel to inherit Héctor's surname, since both Imector and Coco had daughters. It also doesn't make sense that Imelda would keep Héctor's surname when she rejected everything to do with him. Unless Imelda passed down her surname and established the thing where anyone who married into their family would be a Rivera.

Hermione Granger

First impression: as far as I remember always thought she was competent and intelligent, and I did like that she's logical though I also got annoyed because she's so rigid about things and not really open minded

Impression now: nowadays I'm highkey annoyed with how the movies and Ron antis act like she's a beacon of perfection but still love her.

Favourite moment: can't pick one but I like those scenes where she just Does It. Like when she set Snape on fire, or recovered the invisibility cloak from the secret tunnel in PoA.

Idea for a story: ... Idk

Unpopular opinion: I kind of don't like her as Minister for some reason. I feel like she would be better working at the Ministry.

Favourite relationship: Ron, both platonic and romantic, I love their dynamic.

Favourite headcanon: she was always close to her parents and before Harry and Ron they were her only friends. After she restored their memory after the war their relationship was awkward for a while, but recovered soon enough.

Lakshmana

First impression: well I don't really remember because I've been hearing these stories for so long, I feel like I've always known him if that makes sense?

Impression now: I love his loyalty and hot-headedness. And this is not really canon but there was this hilarious Bengali play and he was really chaotic and sassy in that and it's probably part of the reason I love him.

Favourite moment: probably when he protested against kicking out Sita. There's just something about Lakshman criticizing Ram for Sita. And I love the part where he left Sita in the forest, for some reason.

Idea for a story: idk I'm so bad at this

Unpopular opinion: I don't think I have one

Favourite relationship: Ram because I love Lakshman's dedication to him and how much they loved each other, but Sita is close too.

Favourite headcanon: (I probably made this one up when I was fascinated by twins as a kid and there's a nostalgia factor) he was close to Shatrughna but in a different way than Ram. Like they would never be each other's first choice to hang out with, but they understood each other more than anyone else, if that makes sense.

Ask game

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph! know of any fics where sherlock dates someone else and john gets jealous and confesses his feelings?

Hi Nonny!

AHHHHHHH Okay, so I have this weird thing where I have a hard time reading fics where Sherlock is dating someone else, LOL, because I’m garbage. I dunno why… the closest I can get is fics with Victor Trevor in them as a “replacement” or “past bf” D: I’m so sorry I’m useless in this regard… Methinks these lists may help you out a bit? :)

MY FIC LISTS:

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4

ALEXX’S LISTS

John is Jealous of Victor Trevor

Victor Trevor Appears

MORE Victor Trevor/Sherlock (Part 2)

Jealous John

Sherlock with Other Men

John thinks of Sherlock with Other Men

EDIT: ACTUALLY NONNY, I just found an offline list in my folders that I think you will like; I’ve been waiting to post it anyway :P I hope this is good :D

VICTOR TREVOR / VICTOR IS SHERLOCK’S PAST FRIEND (S4)

Unforgiven by 221b_hound (M, 4,721 w., 1 Ch. || Marriage Proposal, Victor Trevor, Jealous / Protective John, Jealous Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past) – Sherlock’s latest case is for his ex boyfriend, the brilliant and handsome Professor Victor Trevor. John is not too happy about that. But things aren’t what they seem, an old friend of John’s is involved in the case, and John has a few surprises up his sleeve. Also - a proposal! Part 16 of Unkissed

Laid Bare by esplanade (T, 6,529 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Fluff, Pining, Angst) – “I suppose it comes as no surprise that I always rather detested grand romantic gestures. They struck me as unnecessary and contrived, feeble attempts at desperately holding together relationships, most of which should have been allowed to fall apart.”

I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband.

My Life for His by QuinnAnderson (E, 8,816 w., 1 Ch. || Guardian/Protector, Greek Mythology || Growing Up, Sex, Religious Themes, Suicide, Minor Character Death) – It began when Sherlock was eight, and he attempted to climb all the way up to the highest branch in the old willow tree in his back garden. He’d thought he was still small enough that it could support him, but the second he’d grabbed hold of it to pull himself up, the branch snapped, and down he went, plummeting a solid twenty metres. The odd thing was, he never actually hit the ground.

Illogical, even. by magikspell (E, 9,119 w., 1 Ch. || Grey-Ace Sherlock, Character Study, Growing Up, Victor Trevor, Romance, First Time/Kiss, Sherlock-centric) – Five reasons Sherlock never believed in love and one reason he does now.

I’m content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock’s shows up in the middle of a case.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock’s past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w., 7 Ch. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody’s happy.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Resistivity and Relative Charge by liriodendron (E, 41,750 w., 8 Ch. || Synesthesia, Angst, Case Fic, Romance, Est. Rel., Homophobia, Religious Content, Victor Trevor, Mild Jealous John, Mild John Whump) – In which Sherlock Holmes meets an old acquaintance, John Watson doesn’t enjoy a trip to the country quite as much as he thought he would, and the past absolutely refuses to stay where it belongs. Part 3 of Conductivity

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,236 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite. (TO READ)

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors ‘Verse

SHERLOCK AND OTHER MEN

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 66,392 + w., 42/56 Ch. || WiP || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. (MARKED FOR LATER / TO READ)

[ceruleanmusings]

in the dark kisses for wynn and toni 😍

Also features @isaaclahys‘s Riya Rose (now you know why I was asking so many questions besides just wanting to know more about her ;)) Hope you don’t mind me borrowing her and doing a mini crossover!

“What’s with the crowded halls?” Wynn asked as she slipped her messenger bag off her shoulder. She spun the dial on her lock to the last number and popped it open. Thank you, Ned’s Declassified! She hung up her messenger bag and placed her late pass onto the top shelf.

“Didn’t you hear? The Southside moved in today,” Riya replied. Wynn hummed in interest as she pulled a box of poptarts out of her bag and held it out to her locker neighbor. They’d been placed next to each other alphabetically for years—Rose and Tate—and their frequent hallway run-ins were something to look forward to. They traded snacks and hearsay when given the chance between classes. It made the part where they had to take classes and do homework a little more bearable. As Riya took off the shiny foil wrapping, her eyebrows furrowed and she asked, “Where were you anyway?”

“Mom had an early doctor’s appointment. And since we only have one car, Pop wanted to cut down on how much he was driving around,” Wynn explained as she took a pink Starburst out of the bag at the top of her locker and popped it into her mouth. “Besides, I wanted to hear what the doctors had to say.”

“Is she okay?”

Wynn shrugged. “As much as she can be, I guess. No improvements but…no setbacks so it’s better than nothing, right?”

“No news is good news,” Riya agreed with a smile and a bump to her arm.

“On that subject, I can’t imagine that the Serpents were well-received.”

“Oh? Did you see the pitchforks in the trash?”

“Close. I was nearly choked by the tension when I walked in.” With a teasing wink she added, “And not in the fun way.”

Riya rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say that Cheryl and Reggie made it clear where they stand in the whole thing.”

“In a pile of bullshit?” Wynn suggested with a smirk. Riya laughed and Wynn went back to getting her books for her next class. She had missed History—thankfully!—and Science. So that meant math was next. Good, math was one of her best subjects. She closed her locker, set the first two numbers, and turned around in time to see as people in the hallway started to part. Interest piqued, Wynn looked past Riya to see a group of Southside Serpents, lead by Jughead, walking down the hallway. Jughead sported his almost ever present frown and the other three following behind him held stiff jaws and clenched fists.

Wynn couldn’t help but make a comment. “Jesus, Jughead, did someone give you coffee that wasn’t black enough for you?”

“Not in the mood, Wynn,” Jughead commented, a little more burusque than usual. They traded barbs sometimes—hipster and poser flung the most often—but it was all in good fun. Wynn and Jughead practically grew up together in Pop’s; he spent a lot of time there. He was one of their best customers.

Her eyebrow popped. “What bit your ass?”

Jughead rubbed his bottom lip with a hand and stepped towards her. She noticed that his dark circles seemed, if possible, darker. “Your boy-toy has no qualms with marking his territory. Think you can put a muzzle on him?”

Wynn scoffed and held up her hands, as if to block his words. “I take no responsibility for his dumb ass. As far as I’m concerned he can get whatever’s coming to him.”

“Wait.” Wynn’s eyes shifted over to the tall one. He brought tall, dark, and handsome to an entirely new level. It was almost as if he stepped out of the pages of some YA romance novel, tattoos, narrowed eyes, and all. “Fleabag belongs to you?”

Wynn blinked, stunned, though she wasn’t sure if it should be attributed to someone actually referring to Reggie as Fleabag or to the fact that this…guy thought that he was her possession. Thankfully, Riya spoke up before she could. “Don’t mind him, this serpent’s more bite than venom.”

Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s stern gaze turned to Riya and she held it, lifting her eyebrows as if to challenged him. An amused smile blossomed on Wynn’s face as she looked back and forth between the two. For a brief moment her eyes locked with the girl who stood closest with Tall, Dark, and Handsome and she noticed that she, too, was restraining a smile.

“Anyway,” Riya said with a flippant tone, “that’s Sweet Pea for you.” Wynn really had to keep from laughing. Of course his name would be Sweet Pea. The only other option would be Tiny, wouldn’t it? “That’s Fangs,” Riya motioned to the quiet boy that stood behind Jughead, “and this is Toni. Guys, this is Wynn.”

“Hey.” Wynn lifted her chin in Toni’s direction. “I like your hair.” She really did; she was jealous of the color and how well it set in Toni’s hair. If she’d tried to do anything to her pile of curls she’d be paying for it later.

“Thanks.” Toni gave a half smile as she pulled on the end strands of her hair. “I like yours too.”

Wynn made a face. “You say that now. This is after taming it for two hours. if it rains? It’s a goner.”

“Oh, girl, I know,” Toni said with a little laugh. “The trick is to use a little more conditioner than usual. It’ll lock everything down.”

“Speaking of lockdown, we should get to class,” Jughead spoke up, clearly uninterested in the efforts of a good hair day. “Before we’re put under lockdown.”

“Actually, this is my locker,” Toni said, pointing to Wynn’s right. “So, I’ll just meet you guys in class alright?”

The boys grunted in response and ambled away. Save for Sweet Pea, who seemed to make it a mission to have some sort of staring contest with Riya as he walked away. Grumbling, Riya said around her poptart, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

Toni chuckled as she opened her locker door. “If he can see through his heart-eyes, that is.”

“That’s a laugh. Sweet Pea wouldn’t know what a heart is if someone ripped it out of their chest and presented it to him,” she said.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Wynn said in an airy tone. Riya gave her a look and Wynn shrugged. “Hamlet’s a good play.”

“Keep Shakespeare out of my life.”

Wynn laughed. “Would you prefer a Greek Chorus instead?”

“Ooh, I’m down for that,” Toni spoke up, a smirk curling on her lips as she put her bag in her locker. “Following you around all day, voicing those oh so forbidden thoughts that tend to run through your mind when Sweet Pea’s around.”

“Maiming and dismemberment?” Riya offered.

“Just what every girl fantasizes,” Wynn joked. Her eyes shifted back over to Toni, slipping down her neck and resting on the camera that hung in front of her. She hummed. “Nice equipment you got there.” When Toni’s chin hit her chest and then was followed closely by a raised brow, Wynn’s eyes fluttered closed and she briefly stuttered out, “C-camera. Talkin’ ‘bout the camera. Not your jugs.”

“Well, they are nice,” Toni said with a particular incline to her head. Wynn cleared her throat. “And thanks. It’s nothing special but it gets the job done.”

“Oh, forgot to mention,” Riya spoke up—Wynn didn’t miss the shit-eating grin on her face, “Toni was on the newspaper back in Southside High. She was saying something about wanting to check out the dark room.”

“Being that you actually have one, figured I should get myself familiar with it,” Toni agreed.

“Lucky for you, Wynn here is the photographer for the yearbook,” Riya said with a nudge to Wynn’s arm.

Wynn gave a modest shrug. “We use digital mostly, the dark room’s just a formality and if anyone wants to learn how to use actual film. Or if we want to go for a certain affect.” Spotting the way Toni’s eyes lit up she said. “Would you…like to…see it?” She didn’t know why it came out as a question; something about Toni had shifted her self-absurdness off-kilter.

“Only if we have time. I don’t want to make you late for class.”

“She has a pass,” Riya jumped in. She slapped her hand on the slip at the top of Wynn’s locker and practically shoved it in her hands. “Come find me at lunch, okay?” She closed her locker and said to Wynn with a wide smile “you’re welcome” and hurried away.

Wynn blinked at Riya’s retreating back and clutched her late pass in her hands. Sighing, she turned on her booted foot and flashed a smile at Toni who stood by, waiting. “So…how are you liking Riverdale High so far?”

“Well, the windows are intact, you have working toilets, the teachers actually know your name, and I’m not getting frisked every morning,” Toni replied. “So far, this is a nice step up.”

“Just wait. That shiny veneer that makes everything look like gold will be stripped away soon enough and you’ll find everything’s just bronze.”

“Well, when you’re used to tin, bronze is a nice step up.”

Wynn bobbed her head; she understood that sentiment wholeheartedly. She wasn’t ashamed to say that she got excited when she got her first phone three years ago. It was a few generations behind all her friends and some of the buttons were wonky but it was a phone and it was hers.

“So how’d you get into photography?” Wynn asked, glancing to her side. Her mouth twisted to the side when she spotted Toni walking with her elbows out, as if waiting to push someone out of her way. In the spacious halls that housed Riverdale High it was an odd sight. She didn’t comment on it.

They spoke with an ease that loosened Wynn’s otherwise stiff tongue, marveling in their shared revelations that they both lived with their grandfathers, worked as waitresses at their local eateries, had an interest in photography, and that their grandfathers were the ones that bought their “babies”: for Toni her camera, for Wynn her podcasting microphone.

By the time they reached the room in question Wynn had to mentally get a grip on herself lest people would notice the little wings that sprouted on her shoes. She had a good group of friends but not many girl friends, save for Riya and Valerie, so it was nice to get along with someone who was a lot less prone to dramatics as compared to Betty and Veronica.

“Wait, hold on. Lemme just…” Wynn knocked on the door a couple times, pressed her ear to it, and then turned the knob. “We’re good.”

“What was that about?” Toni asked, following her into the room.

“People sometimes sneak in here to makeout,” Wynn replied with a wave of her hand. “You have to be careful or else you’ll get an eyeful of something you weren’t prepared for.”

“Worse than someone on a coke binge?”

Wynn whirled around; Toni had said it with such nonchalance, almost as if she were commenting on a cloud in the sky. What kind of school was Southside High? She heard rumors, of course, but those things tended to stay that way. Where there was smoke there was fire and blah blah blah but she wasn’t the sort to put much stock into what people whispered about. She lived in a world of facts (and, yes, she knew she was being a bit hypocritical since she consumed Riverdale gossip but that was bonding time and that was different.)

“Well, I mean, if you don’t mind trading a few winks with a one-eyed monster then—”

“Gross!” Toni said, laughing. She held up her hand. “I think I get it.” She slowly walked around the room, the heel of her boot echoing with every step she took. Wynn stayed back, watching Toni’s face as she took in the computers and printers and equipment stationed around the room. Watched the awe settle into Toni’s eyes and slacken her jaw. “Is this the dark room?” She pointed at a closed door in the back.

“Yeah. The room next to it is where we develop pictures in the bath and everything.” Wynn walked around her, catching a whiff of something melon scented and opened the door. “Once the light is off, the red bulb on the outside goes on so people know that it’s occupied and not to open the door. Lest they want to suffer a very slow and painful death.”

“But how do you keep the light from getting in?” Toni asked.

“The door goes to the floor. It’s not ideal for the claustrophobic sort, let me tell you. This dark room actually does its job. It gets dark.”

“Can I see?”

Wynn’s eyebrows lowered. It was a bit of a strange question, she had to admit. It wans’t too hard to figure out what a dark room looked like but the particular way Toni looked at her made her swallow her words of confusion and instead nod stiffly.

She waited for Toni to enter the room and closed the door. Hmm, she didn’t remember it feeling this small. Granted, she was rarely in the room with another person save for a few stolen moments last year… She scrunched up her nose, shook her head, blew out a breath and then flipped the light switch. Toni’s face was replaced with a stifling swath of pitch black. Wynn rubbed her hands on the legs of her jeans, and then winced when they brushed against something as they swung forward.

“Shit, sorry—can’t see you.”

Toni laughed. “That’s kinda the point, right?” Her voice came from somewhere in front of Wynn. It sounded a bit closer than it had before.

“Yeah. Riverdale does a few things right.”

Silence. Then…

“So…you used to date that guy?”

“Who?” Wynn hated how small her voice sounded.

“Fleabag?”

“Reggie.” She licked her bottom lip. “It’s..complicated.”

“Always seem to be.”

“I guess.” Wynn cleared her throat. “I broke up with him over the summer.” Not that you needed to know that. Still, she felt compelled to explain.

“Oh?” Her voice was definitely closer now. Something brushed against her hand. She didn’t move away.

“Yeah. Just another mistake I’m trying to move on from.”

“To another guy?”

The steady thump-thump-thump of Wynn’s heart sounded in her ears and her mouth dried and she suddenly wished they weren’t encased in darkness. “To anyone at this point,” she uttered.

The melon scent hit her again; overwhelmingly so. She tasted it on her tongue; cantaloupe or something of the like. She didn’t think on it too much for, a second later, she tasted something sweeter: Toni.

Sparks shot through her at the briefest touch of Toni’s lips against hers. It was a chaste kiss; a little sticky from Toni’s lipgloss. It was different, very nice but different.

Wynn’s breath shook and she alternately pushed her thumb against each knuckle until they popped, a nervous habit she was yet to break. Toni’s fingers brushed against hers, and then her hands held on tight. Almost pulling her down.

Wynn took a step forward, pressing her lips against Toni’s. Her eyelids fluttered shut, she sucked in a breath when Toni pressed back against her and—

Brrrrrrrriiiinnnngggg!

Startled, Wynn jerked backwards. Her chest heaved and her hands shook. “That was the bell,” she managed to utter. Damn, one kiss from a pretty girl suddenly turned her into Captain Obvious.

“I know,” Toni replied. Wynn almost saw the smile on her face.

“You’re going to be late for class.”

Toni squeezed her hands. “That’s okay. People probably expect it. After all, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh yeah?” Toni leaned in and kissed her again, so Wynn continued against her mouth, “What kind of reputation is that?”

Toni let go of Wynn’s hands, choosing to wrap them around her neck instead, drawing her closer. “Shut up and I’ll show you.”

Wynn did as she was told.

[lindoig1]

Riding the rails again Day 25

Spent all morning in our room but I eventually decided to brave the outside world. There is nowhere to go around the hotel, but there is a bit of a garden so I took my camera and went looking for birds. I had just photographed a hooded crow when a security guard approached apparently wanting to know what I was doing. We couldn’t understand what each other was saying so I had to show him the photos on my camera. He said OK but still stood by making me feel quite uncomfortable so I returned to the room and asked about lunch. We are still confined to quarters, but our guide will be here in a couple of hours to take us to the station for our overnight train. Hopefully, I will feel a bit more secure in Isfahan.

Javed was a little late, but all is well and it was pretty easy getting on to the train. Once again, however, there was a foul-up with our tickets. We had paid for 4 tickets again so we have a private cabin to ourselves and all our luggage, but they had Heather in one cabin and me in the cone next door, sharing with another group of travellers doing much the same trip as us. They were all Aussies travelling with Sundowners, but as a group with a full time guide. We ended up with 4 of us and all the baggage in one cabin while some guy slept in the cabin next door. We got on really well with the other people and it all got sorted out when the guy woke up a couple of hour later. Not sure what happened to him, but we now have our cabin and our Aussie mates are next door, probably sharing with at least one other person.

Have just eaten our dinner on the train. We understood that there were no meals on the train so we had saved a bit of the excess we had been given for breakfast and lunch in Mashhad - and it was delish. Certainly better than the bland food we were served because Heather had been quite creative in the way she had combined the various bits and pieces into a really nice meal, complete with delicious sweet lemon tea. We are becoming quite addicted to that!!! Now we find that there is a restaurant car as well as the packages of food they have delivered to us that looks like breakfast. We are also being plied with bottles of partly frozen water - is it 8 bottles so far. We must have drunk hundreds of bottles of water on the trip. We seem to be constantly thirsty and water is the drink of choice when we can’t get tea. We have had a few soft drinks, but beer and water seem to be the go most of the time and all drinks seem dirt cheap right across Asia. Beer is usually under a dollar per 500 or 650ml bottle and soft drinks aren’t that much dearer.

For the last 3 hours or so, we have been travelling through semi-desert that must be irrigated because much of it is heavily cropped and it is all looking lush and healthy. A few sheep and goats, tended by patient shepherds and really big dogs too. There have been mountains on both sides of the train, some little clumps of them weirdly shaped from time to time, but the most striking feature has been the light. There is a bit of patchy light cloud, but there must be dust or smog in the air because everything has been bathed in an eerie orange-yellow glow, almost luminescent in places. It has given everything an ethereal unreality and the moon is almost red. Full moon tomorrow methinks. It is now dark, but it has been a really nice trip so far, even during the time we were scrunched up sharing our cabin with the other Aussies.

[aflyingcontradiction]

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 81 - A Guest For Mr. Spider

Even in the depths of my paranoia, something I now attribute to the presence of… of the being that was posing as Sasha, like a grain of sand behind my eye, rubbing and irritating, but with no clear cause. - Jon

I mean, yeah, Not!Sasha played her part, but Jon's granting her a bit too much power here, methinks. He HAD just gone through a near-death experience, only to then immediately find out that his predecessor had been brutally murdered by likely someone still working in the Institute. Doesn't take a Stranger avatar to turn that into a veritable cocktail of paranoia!

The one name I held in my mind as a true source of evil was Jurgen Leitner, and I knew him as the worst of it, for it was his name that had marked the encounter that scarred my youth. (...) But now I know what Jurgen Leitner truly was. A spoiled child, playing with forces he barely understood, calling himself a jailor to things he couldn’t even conceptualise.

That has got to be weird, the moment when you look upon the face of the person you have hated (and feared) with a passion for years and all you see is ... something utterly pathetic.

I never tried to really define it, but I think the closest I could come to putting it into words was that I hated to read anything I felt like I had read before.

I think this line had me giving significant looks to my partner, who (unlike me) is also easily bored by re-encountering the familiar, though by far not to the extent of little Jon here.

The local library was some distance away, so between visits, my grandmother would go to all the local charity and second-hand bookshops and buy up every book they had that was fifty pence or less, then she would present me the pile and I would look through it until I found something I liked, or at least tolerated, and then I would read that.

This wasn't PRECISELY my parents' approach to showering me in books but I did frequently get "flea market piles" from either my parents or other relatives and nope, none of them came pre-vetted. If it was cheap and looked like a children's book or something else I might like it went in the pile. The worst I ever got, though, was somewhat disturbed by a scene in a YA book that I absolutely ADORED but was perhaps slightly too young to be left alone with (if you let your 7-year-old read about nuclear war, maybe discuss it with them after and don't just go 'you're too young to think about gruesome things like that' when they bring it up at the dinner table, DAD!) and majorly creeped out by a book that looked like fantasy but was actually a fundamentalist tract in disguise (though fortunately at the time I was already in my early teens so plenty old enough to go "WTF?" and chuck it in a corner when that became apparent). Anyway, I digress...

But somehow, it still felt like an insult that she might in some way think I was at a level to be reading The Elephant and the Balloon, or whatever nonsense it was.

And this also reminds me of me as a kid. I resented the everloving fuck out of having to read, well, the equivalent of "The Elephant and the Balloon or whatever nonsense it was" (specifically "Two little pigs watch TV" actually...) in 1st grade when I was well beyond that point in my reading ability and yeah, I felt insulted, even though it made no sense, since everyone else was ALSO forced to read the same book out loud at the same snail's pace.

I had no idea what was inside, but I knew that I hated that book. And I knew that wasn’t going to stop me opening it.

Heh, Jon, ever the future Archivist! (she says mockingly when the latest instance of "Oh, I specifically backlisted this tag because this otherwise awesome person keeps posting irritating nonsense about this particular topic, let me just CLICK ON THE POST ANYWAY!" occurred precisely 15 minutes ago...)

Behind the door stands a large, burly fly, this one dressed in baggy overalls. Next to it stands a much smaller fly, dressed in what appears to be a child’s version of those same overalls. They are both openly weeping. ‘IT’S MR. HORSE. AND HE’S BROUGHT YOU HIS SON’. The close-up on that fly’s face is an image that still comes to me when I’m having trouble sleeping.

Yeah, the face of a parent about to unwillingly sacrifice their child would do that...

I feel my hand closing into a fist and reaching for the door, preparing to rap my knuckles on the grimy old wood. It was at that moment that a hand far bigger than my own slapped the book from my grip, before shoving me hard in the chest and sending me sprawling onto the floor.

The moment Jon's bully saved his life...

To this day I don’t know, but I was in the park, and standing over me was… you know, for the life of me I can’t remember his name. Thomas, maybe? Daniel? I almost want to say Michael, but that isn’t it.

Yeah, not EVERYONE is Michael, there's already too damn many Michaels on this podcast!

He was a bully. Eighteen or nineteen, I think.

Jeez, what kind of fucked up eighteen-year-old goes after an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD? I mean, yeah, bullies generally don't pick on people "their own size" in one way or another (though size isn't always literal). But this is a bit much, even for a bully! Worst I've ever seen re: bullying by non-relatives was an age gap of maybe three or four years?

I need help. I need allies. I just wish this revelation didn’t come just as everyone is convinced I’m a deranged killer.

What can I say except: OUCH!

My impression of this episode

This episode stuck with me, despite not really hitting my personal buttons. I think it's the incredibly vivid image evoked in my mind by the description of the book. I can picture every page. It was also fascinating to realise that Jon had had supernatural encounters well before ever joining the Magnus Institute. And now, in hindsight, knowing that Jon was marked by the Web before Beholding ever got its claws (eyelashes?) in him... well, it certainly adds something knowing there's that extra layer that has been hinted at for so long (and that, yeah, I completely and utterly ignored because of course I did.)

[aelowan]

A Midwinter Night’s Reading – A Books of Binding Flash Fiction

A warm glow peeked out from under the Mulcahy Library doors and Cian smiled. Rick must be up late again. He had only been here at Mulcahy House a couple of weeks, but already it felt like he belonged in the Library. The House felt happier with him in there.

Cian backtracked through the dining room and butler’s pantry into the kitchen and heated milk for cocoa. Rick had a sweet tooth, Cian had discovered, and would surely welcome a warm, sugary drink on this chilly January night.

Though it wasn’t nearly as cold as last January had been in Kentucky. Winter said the sea air gave Seahaven (and much of coastal Washington) a warmer, more temperate climate. Cian was only just delving into science as he studied for a test that said he knew what you are supposed to learn in high school. He thought it was strange to use a test to teach him what was on the test, but Winter promised that this way was best and would allow him to go on to college. He loved to learn new things and to help people. Winter assured him that going to college to become a doctor would give him plenty of opportunity to do both. But first, he had to learn everything for this test, like how science worked.

He scooped a generous measure of the peppermint cocoa Winter kept in a tin near the stove and whisked it into the warm milk until the frothing foam melted away, and the sweet scent of peppermint and chocolate filled the kitchen. He turned off the heat and poured the cocoa into two mugs, setting the cocoa pot into the sink. The House would wash it and put it away as soon as he left the room.

He carried both mugs into the long hall and stepped with purpose toward the Library doors and their giant, interlocking tree bearing books as fruit. The doors opened for him, and Cian murmured his thanks to the House. Winter said that the doors had stopped doing that, but since he and Etienne had moved in after October, the faerie house seemed to be reawakening.

Alerich Ashimar sat in one of two dark leather armchairs in one of the several seating areas in the Library. The Library had given him an office, but he seemed to like to read late into the night in this spot. A fire was going in the fireplace and added to the pleasant warm glow that seemed to permeate the Library whenever Rick was in it. The English wizard looked up when the doors opened and smiled at Cian. “Good evening. Are one of those for me?”

Cian returned the smile and held out a mug for Alerich. “I don’t want to bother you while you’re reading, but I thought you might like some cocoa.”

Alerich pulled a ribbon up from the binding of his book and tucked it carefully between the pages, shutting the thick volume and putting it on the side table with a loving pat. He reached out and took one of the mugs. “Thank you. This is very kind of you, and not a bother at all. Please,” he indicated the other armchair. “Join me.” Rick sipped his cocoa as Cian settled into his chair and his smile broadened. “This is delicious, thank you. Couldn’t sleep?”

Cian leaned back into the fire-warmed leather and sipped his own cocoa, enjoying the heat of the drink and the fire both. “Noel woke up for his feeding. By the time he was done and back to sleep, I was wide awake. I was going to study, but I saw your light. What are you reading?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Oh! I know that one! Shakespeare, right?”

“Indeed. Do you know much Shakespeare?”

“No,” Cian admitted and took another sip. “But Jessie had me watch this movie when I started studying for the language and literature part of my test. She said it was to ‘get me pumped,’ but I’m pretty sure that means ‘excited’ here.”

The corners of Rick’s mouth turned upward, and he nodded. “It does. Did you watch the play?”

“Not exactly. It was about a boys’ school and a teacher who got really excited about poetry. He stood on his desk and got his students excited too. One of them was in the play.”

“Ah, I know that one. It’s a good movie.”

Cian nodded over his mug. “I liked it a lot. I hope that I have teachers who get that excited about what they teach. Is that how you learned about Shakespeare?”

Alerich looked a little confused. “From the movie?”

Cian shook his head. “No, from a teacher?”

“Oh!” Alerich took a long sip and sat his cocoa next to his book. “I suppose it was. One of my professors at Bremerton, the wizard school for boys in London.”

“Did they stand on a desk?”

Alerich seemed amused at the thought and the corners of his mouth crinkled again. “No. But he read with such passion and love for the material that there were days I wanted to. He read poetry like he was rapping it. It had rhythm and passion. I think he single-handedly made us all closet poets.”

Alerich picked up his mug and was quiet for a moment. Cian drank his own cocoa and let the wizard keeps his thoughts to himself for a little while, though they didn’t look like happy ones.

Finally, Alerich came back from wherever he had gone and smiled, significantly less brightly than before, at Cian. “Sorry. Got a little lost there for a minute.”

Cian smiled sympathetically. “It’s all right. Winter says you’re still processing. She says sometimes you’ll need a little space. I’m happy just sitting here with you.” It had only been a couple of weeks since Rick’s father had died. Their relationship had been… complicated. And given the circumstances of the man’s death, Cian and Winter agreed that Rick would be processing for a very long time.

Alerich reached over and touched Cian’s knee. “You really are very kind, Cian. Thank you.”

Cian blushed a little both at the praise and at the touch from the handsome wizard. “You’re welcome. But I don’t want to interrupt your reading if you’re enjoying it.” He started to get up to give the man some space.

Rick waved him back into his chair. “Please stay. I could use the company.”

“What about your play?”

Alerich looked down at the volume like looking at a very close friend. “I could read to you?”

Cian beamed. “I would love that. I read to Noel, but they’re baby books. I would love to hear you read Shakespeare.”

“How well do you know Midsummer?”

“Really only what was in the movie.”

“It’s been a while, but I think that it mostly dealt with the end of the play and the boy’s suicide.”

Cian nodded, wondering if this topic was too tough for Rick right now.

Alerich was quiet for another moment, then went on, “But there is much more to the play. It is a comedy about forbidden love, obsession, and love gone bad. Here, let me start us off right. The play opens in Athens, where the Duke, Theseus, and his fiancé, Hippolyta, are very close to their wedding day. Shall I read it?”

Cian settled back in his chair, mug in hand. “Please.”

Alerich picked up the book and opened it to where the ribbon was, then went back a number of pages. He cleared his throat and read with the same kind of dramatic voice that Etienne used when he told stories around the fire.

“‘Now fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes!’”

Cian listened with rapt attention and understood what Winter saw in Rick. It was very easy to fall in love with this man.

If you liked this story, check out our other free flash fiction and all things Seahaven at aelowan.com.

[of-storms-and-saints-blog]

Of Wardens and Darkspawn

Part 1: Tainted Hero Chapter 10: Of Wardens and Darkspawn

The next morning came quickly, though Brina felt entirely rested. I must have been tired. I fell asleep in my clothes. Her fire had burned down to little more than glowing embers. Even with magic, they required some coaxing before the flames would take.

Sister Paulette approached. “I saw you were awake . . . There's some druffalo stew already warm if you're hungry.”

“Aye, thank you.” Brina followed Paulette to the central fire; the sister scooped the soup into a bowl and handed it to Brina.

She held it in her hands, appreciating the warmth. Her breath and steam from the broth created a thick fog around her head.

There's frost on the ground. Thus begins the dying time.

“I heard you were . . . Successful? Are you a Grey Warden now?”

Brina shook her head. “That was a test. I'm to do something called 'the Joining' today. Some kind of ceremony, I suppose.”

Paulette nodded. “I see. You . . . All of you are so brave. I'm not a fighter, so I stay here . . .”

“Healers are important too.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course I do. Not just anyone can be a healer.” Brina sipped at her broth, letting the warmth spread through her body.

“I guess now . . . I've never thought of it that way.”

They sat quietly for a time as they ate. Brina drained her bowl and stood. “Thank you for the stew, Sister. I must be on my way.”

Paulette smiled. Brina left the infirmary. This time, she knew where to go. She arrived early. The large bonfire crackled loudly. Various guards, Templars, Wardens, and even some of the Chantry folk periodically fed the fire. There was always someone close by, tending to the perpetual flame. Brina had an unexpected moment to breathe.

The Joining . . . What is it? Why keep it a secret? The only reason I can think of to keep a ritual secret would be if death were a risk. Am I going to die today?

No, the Lady would not bring me this far just to call me back. I refuse to believe that.

Brina looked up into the sky. The moon had long since set and clouds covered the stars. The blackness pressed heavily over the camp. Even the large bonfire could barely hold it back.

Sweet Lady of the Skies . . . I cannot let Da's passing be in vain. Or Augur's . . . Thane Snow-Eye, Hilda, Ragnar, Una, Bjorn, Dagmar, Stoic, Svena, and all the rest.

I hope their souls made it to you . . . I'll return as soon as I can and give you the proper service you demand and give them rest. May they walk in light and never be afraid of the darkness.

The black abyss around her seemed to pulse as if in reply. Alistair stepped through into the orange glow. “Are you ready, Brina?”

Brina nodded. Ser Jory and Daveth appeared as well.

“I don't like this . . .” Jory's breath was shaky. Whether from fear or cold, Brina was unsure.

“Whinging again, Ser Knight?” Daveth teased.

“It's just . . . Why is this Joining such a secret? Why so many tests? Haven't we proven ourselves?”

“Maybe they just want to mess with your 'ead.”

“All I know is I've got a wife heavy with child back in Highever. Why couldn't they have told me about this?”

“Would you have come if they told ya, Ser Knight? Maybe we'll die. Who cares if it stops the Blight?”

“You would not say so if you were expecting a child, rogue.”

Brina wrinkled her forehead. “Highever? I thought you said you were from Redcliffe. Where's Highever?”

“I am from Redcliffe. I got married one year ago. My wife is from Highever and works in the castle. I requested a transfer. Both Bann Guerrin and Teryn Cousland obliged. I was participating in the Grand Melee in Redcliffe when Duncan recruited me.”

“Methinks that Ser Knight is a scared little girl.”

“I-”

Brina sighed. “Shut it, both of you.”

“Yea, Ser Knight. You'll ruin the moment.”

Brina shot Daveth a glance. Daveth's face sucked inward as though he'd partaken of something sour.

Duncan appeared from the darkness. “Good, you're all here. I spoke with Alistair when you arrived last night and understand you were successful.”

Daveth hopped back and forth from foot to foot. “We were almost cooked up by some witches!”

“Yes, Alistair informed me of your encounter. You must understand that Grey Wardens are to remain neutral. Apostates in the Wilds are not your concern.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Alistair, taken them to the Old Temple. I will be there shortly.”

Duncan disappeared back into the dark. Alistair tossed his head in the opposite direction. Cold wind billowed around them as they made their way past the kennels; past the tents of higher authority. Guards stood watch all day and night around those tents.

They walked toward a grand archway. This area of Ostagar Castle was mostly intact. A grand staircase led up to the arch and into what was once the Great Hall. Parts of the tile peaked beneath the dirt and floral overgrowth. A pathway to the left had been worn down through the Hall to the very center where a long table sat covered in papers and maps.

To the right was a smaller set of steps leading to a raised level with a small room. Along the back wall was a long altar with a statue base. Whatever statue had once sat there was long gone. Brina suspected it had likely been a statue of Andraste. Pff, Lowlanders.

Duncan's approach startled them. “Now is the hour we come to the Joining. Those of you who survive will join our ranks.” Duncan held a large silver goblet in both hands. The cup had a griffin engraved on all sides along with an inscription. Brina was unable to read it.

“Survive?” Jory sputtered.

So it's true. Korth, protect me. “Let's get on with this.”

“Alistair, if you would say the words that have been said since the first.”

“Join us, Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we shall join you.”

“Daveth, step forward.”

Daveth gave a nervous hop but took the goblet in both hands. He screwed up his face, disgusted, before handing the cup back.

So far, so good. He seems fine.

Daveth's face slowly turned purple. Wait, he's not breathing.

The rogue gagged and clawed at his throat, dropping to his knees. His eyes bulged, and he let out a croak before falling on his face.

Blood pumped loudly in Brina's ears. That's so much worse than I anticipated. She could hardly breathe.

Alistair didn't flinch, but his face did not hide his feelings.

Duncan took a deep breath, hiding his disappointment. “I'm sorry, Daveth. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Jory looked back and forth between Duncan, the goblet, and Daveth.

“Ser Jory, step forward.” Duncan held out the cup to him.

“No . . .” Jory stepped back. “No, I didn't sign up for this. There is no honor in killing myself.” Jory drew his sword. “I will not drink!”

Duncan handed the goblet to Alistair. Jory swung his sword wildly in fear as Duncan approached, repeating, “I will not drink!” over and over. Duncan walked straight up to Jory, drew a long dagger, and stabbed upward into Jory's stomach.

Brina's heart pounded. The man truly has no fear. What is my fate?

“I'm sorry, Ser Jory. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Jory dropped his sword, falling to his knees the same way Daveth did. He pulled the dagger from his gut in stunned silence. “My . . . Wife. . . and child . . .” He fell forward. The light left his eyes as the blood pooled around him.

Alistair handed the goblet back to Duncan. They both had solemn faces.

“Brina, step forward.”

Brina wanted to run, but she obeyed. Drink . . . And die . . . Or resist . . . And be killed. Her hands shook as she took the cup. She could feel the magic swirling inside. The blackness of the taint made the magic feel different. It tugged and pulled, like a rabid animal attacking its prey. She willed herself to drink deep.

It was hot, as though the sun burned within her, connecting with her veins. She tasted the lyrium, almost like sweetened rosemary. Then everything went dark.

A fire burned; several fires, as far as the eye could see. The sun broke over the horizon, and she saw them. Thousands upon thousands of nightgangers. Darkspawn. They were all looking a single direction, past her. A voice spoke. The language was unfamiliar, but she understood it.

“And thus the Grey Wardens add yet another to their ranks.”

She turned. There at the head of the horde sat a dragon, larger than any creature she'd ever seen; nearly the size of Redcliffe Castle. Its skin was black and rotting though it was very much alive.

“I have tasted the flesh of many. I look forward to tasting yours, Grey Warden.” The dragon laughed. At least, Brina thought it was laughing. The laugh rolled out across the camp almost like a growl.

The dragon roared and screeched, and Brina knew. This was the Archdemon, the leader of the darkspawn. The Archdemon breathed flames at her.

She screamed and covered her face.

She opened her eyes as someone shook her. Brina was breathing fast and covered in sweat. Both Duncan and Alistair crouched over her.

Duncan held out his hand to help her up. “You are now a Grey Warden.”

[bleatinginpolish]

Dismembered Arms & Wonderful Humans

Most of my students knew how I felt about Kołobrzeg. They knew that, for a variety of reasons, it was about as much fun as having an assailant violently rip my arms from my body and use them to beat me whilst mockingly asking "why are you hitting yourself?".

As such, I was often asked why I would subject myself to such barbarism. The answer was simple: I adored my students. With very few exceptions, they were lovely, open-minded humanoids and I wanted to get to know them, their culture, and, of course, help them speak English like weirdos.

While many students came and went for one reason or another, there were some who I saw essentially every week for the duration of my time in Kołobrzeg. Here they are, based on the day of the week I had them:

Mondays

My "Business English" class was an intermediate-level group of 7 adults who all worked for the same company. With an 08:00 start time -- and on Mondays, no less -- it wasn't always easy for everyone but they were a fun group. For the most part, they were engaged, asked questions, and were clearly interested in improving and learning what sorcery brought a guy from southern California, of all places, to a small city in northern Poland. To my delight, by the end of our time together, we were having more spontaneous conversations than using the book, which was good for everyone, methinks.

Dawid, an 11-year-old boy, came to me after school and was always a pleasure even though he couldn't even put a sentence together, let alone have a conversation. Every week, I'd start our class by asking him what he did over the weekend, and his answer never waivered; he "played his console". XBOX, that is. That little brain-melting machine was his pride and joy. In time, I came to recognize when he didn't understand what I'd said or asked but acted like he did. Occassionally, he'd say "yes" with all kinds of confidence even though I hadn't asked a yes/no question. He was a smart kid who was able to laugh at himself and was always willing to practice.

The "Teens" class was next. They were an interesting bunch of high school students with varying levels of English, though all of them were conversational.

Weronika was the one I mentioned in a previous post that loved pups and volunteered at the local animal shelter weekly. She and her friends Ola and Oliwia were very quite in the beginning. Eventually (read: a month before I left), Weronika and Ola opened up because the class size got smaller, so we were able to actually get to know each other in a way that wasn't possible with a larger group. That's when Weronika invited me to walk some doggos with her! They were the only two who showed up to our final class, and even got me a tear-jerkingly thougthful gift!

Asia and Iden, who were aunt and nephew respectively despite being the same age, were the talkers of the group. And I mean that in the best way possible. I could always count on them to keep the conversation going! Asia, in one of the most spectacular acts of kindness I experienced in K-rzeg, invited me to spend Christmas with her and her family. They were tremendously warm and welcoming, the food was lovely (except the "gelly fish" - nie dziękuję!), and they taught me a ton about Poland and Polish Christmas. It was a truly heart-warming experience that I shall ne'er forget.

They also initiated "food lessons" (or "potlucks", as I call them). Everyone made food, brought it in, and we had the lesson in the dining room while sharing a meal. Another time, we all chipped in and bought a pizza and drinks (no, it wasn't Vodka!) to celebrate Iden's birthday. That was a glorious day!

Oliwia P. kept me on my toes with her depth and insight, though I think there was more to her than I got to see in the context of our group lessons. As someone who has done a gaggle of volunteering, I was impressed when she went to the Dominican Republic with her parents to do some volunteer work. Her friend Klaudia came to some classes but I think she said about 31 words all year, so I didn't get to know her too well.

A guy by the name of Jacek was the last to join the group. He didn't make a good first impression (he stared at his phone for 90% of his first class), but he ended up being quite engaging.

Next up was my "Adults" class, which was 5 low-level, working adults ranging in age from 25 to 45, I think. They were lovely people that were eager to learn but it didn't make sense for them to have classes with me because they were so low level that we could barely communicate. For that reason, I had to use a book that, thanks to Terry, wasn't appropriate for them so I was constantly simplifying or completely skipping entire sections. Those folks needed to be practicing the basics, not learning the nuance of cynicism (true story!).

Karol, a first year high school student who was in an IT-focused program, was a bit of a wild card for me. I never really knew what to talk about with him, but somehow we kept the conversations going. Whenever I got into a pickle in terms of having nothing lined up to talk about, I would use my admittedly outdated knowledge of IT to spark a conversation.

Tuesdays

A few months into my stay, I got a new student named Magda. She was beautiful soul in her mid-20's who wanted to improve her English, partly just for herself but also to feel more confident while traveling. Like me, she had grown tired of the routine of "normal" life and was looking to change things up. As I had walked down that same road, I was perfectly suited to not only help her with English but also to give advice related to backpacking and how to get over the mental barrier of letting go of the things we're so used to having. It was quite exciting to be a part of her journey! (Update: She's backpacking in the Philippines as I write this!)

Initially, I met Monika in my "Business English" class. Her level was a bit lower than the others, which is why she wanted to have individual classes as well. She was a Kołobrzeg native that had lived in Spain and Argentina for many years, so she spoke Spanish fluently and handled the Spanish-speaking markets at her job. Whenever she couldn't explain something to me in English, she'd swtich to Spanish and I understood more often than not, so that was handy.

Natalia was Monika's 13-year-old daughter. At first, we could barely communicate. That was nerve-racking, but as she got more comfortable with me and gained confidence, it got easier. Her mom told me that was enjoying our lessons, which was the first time she'd been even remotely excited about English, so she was thrilled. By the end of my time in Poland, we were able to understand each other well enough to maintain (simple) conversations.

Wednesdays

Borys, the tallest 16-year-old in the universe, was an incredibly nice kid who lived and breathed basketball. For the NBA playoffs, he stayed up all night to watch the games live. In 8 months of classes, I don't think a single one went by without us talking about basketball. That's quite a feat for me considering I could not care less about the sport. A few times, I tried to mix up the topic but we almost always hit a dead end and turned into awkward turtles. Luckily, it was easy enough to quickly Google "basketball news", then let him run with whatever headlines I found.

A second year high school student, Kinga, was one of the hardest working people I'd ever met. As arguably my highest level student, our lessons covered a multitude of topics ranging from dance class (hers, not mine) to traveling to the daily struggles of having long hair. Given her high level, she was hoping to refine her knowlegde of the simple things that don't come up conversation very often, such as "windowsill". We got along so well that she wanted to continue our lessons after I came back to the US. (Update: We have indeed started having lessons via Skype.)

Łukasz had a wife and young son and was probably in his late 30's. They owned a local business that catered to the summertime tourists, so he was taking advantage of the off-season and improving his English. While our conversations frequently drifted towards the depressing side of life, such as politics, climate change, and social media addiction, they were always thought-provoking and enjoyable. And when the laptop I had borrowed from the school decided to stop working, he lent me one of his! That was a life-saver because I had just started teaching online and couldn't continue without a laptop.

Even with a 20-year age gap and wholly different upbringings, Kasia and I had an extraordinary amount in common. She was one of the few students with whom I never worried about running out of topics to discuss because we were both able and willing to talking about anything and everything. Our conversations seemed to always boil down to our shared fascination with human nature; why people do what they do. In fact, we were often so deep in conversation that we'd lose track of time and go over by 10 or 15 minutes. I was (and am) genuinely excited to see where she goes in life as she needs and deserves more than Kołobrzeg can offer.

Thursdays

Another second year high school student, Ola, came to me twice a week because she had signed up to go to New York for an English course during the coming summer. For a while, her friend Roxanna was coming with her but she got a job and had to stop. Anywho, even though she'd traveled a fair amount, Ola was a bit nervous about living in such a big, busy city. I assured her she would adjust and provided as many tips as a I could considering that I'd only been there once. She was incredibly smart, though I don't think she'd admit, and I think she'll go on to do great things! (Update: She's currently in New York, making oodles of friends from all over the world, and loving it!)

Fridays

My only class on Fridays was with Marek, a 14-year-old who played soccer in a club, loved to ski, and was a big fan of movies, especially ones with superheroes. We spent many a class talking about the myriad of superhero movies and characters, and watching trailers for upcoming releases. We talked about what might happen in "Avengers: Infinity War" more than I'm comfortable admitting in writing. Coincidentally, it was released the weekend before I left Poland, so our last class was a real geekfest.

Each of the people mentioned above -- and a few other non-students who I'll write about in another post -- played a part in my decision to stay in Kołobrzeg, and I'm thankful for every one of them!