#(I have no clue how I did it either I think I. reversed it for some damned reason)

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Isekaied Reversed Pt. 2✦ 」

↳ Started with pulling some single pulls on Xiao's banner, however things hadn't gone as expected as he really did come home...literally. First impressions? Long gone.

Tags: @itztaki @wolfishartist13

{Hopefully I did that right}

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“Move, and I’ll purge you where you sit, Demon.”

You froze, feeling like you recognized that voice somewhere...Of coarse!

With your chest a little lighter, you obliged instructions. Either way you wished to not be cut into a bloody spray paint bottle. But also realizing the situation, beads of sweat rolled down your face as you tried leveling your breathing.

“H-hey now, w-we can talk about this-“ You eyes drew back to the deathly weapon, the one centimeters away from your carotid artery. “-right?..haha…ha…”

You felt the blade finally press to your skin firmly, instantly shutting you up, seeing as the yaksha bare no mood for jokes.

I guess that’s what happens when you see your whole family lose their sanity before slaughtering each other-

“How did you manage to conjure me here." He demanded, his hold on his spear never faltering as he glared towards you, waiting for an answer. You, on the other hand, your words couldn't even be conjured up. Why? Because you were thinking the same thing; How did he even get here?

Mere moments passed by as the adeptus was getting impatient by the second. With a sigh, you finally spoke, "Look..I—OH MY GOSH IS THAT REX LAPIS!" You shouted, pointing towards your room's window.

With his spear faltering slightly, you took this opportunity and ran—ran like the wind, like your life depended on it and truly, it did. At least after that stunt. But hey! On the bright side, in your afterlife you could proudly gloat about how you managed to not only summon the mighty vigilante yaksha, Xiao, but as well as juke him!

You were almost free as your fingers brushed against the doorknob—you could practically feel freedom in its wake..but unfortunately, it was cut short as you felt a hand grab your wrist before quickly slamming you against the door.

You honestly would've thought that it wasn't so bad. But only If the same threatening jade spear wasn't jabbed into the wood of the door only a few centimeters from your head.

"How idiotic must one be to pull a stunt such as that!" You heard the man snap. You chuckled with nervousness, "gotcha good eh?-" "I'll give you to the count of five. How did you manage to conjure me here."

"one."

"two."

"three."

"four-"

"I don't know! I don't know how you ended up here. When I heard a loud thud from behind me, you were suddenly there!"

The yaksha did not express anything, his motions still.

Is this the end of me? All I wanted to do was for Xiao to come home..BUT NOT LITERALLY!

The man sighed, "If you can conjure me here, you can send me back." Huh- "I have important matters back in my universe."

The pressure behind you disappeared as you felt a heavy weight lifting off your chest. You huffed out a sigh of relief..."Wait. Did you just say different universe?" You recapped. Surely your ears were playing tricks on you.

The yaksha stared blankly at you before nodding. You could feel a annoyed aura radiating from him. "But how did yo-" "I cannot disclose that to you, but if you'd look around the place, it looks nothing like what you've just witness, thus, you can figure it out on your own." He interrupted.

You mentally rolled your eyes. How could you forget; This guy was ruthless, blunt-depression itself; next to wanderer of coarse.

"Alright. Well then-" Xiao proceeded to ignore you as he opened your bedroom window, about to jump. "Uh, where are you going?" You questioned. The yaksha huffed, "I'm going to see if I can send myself back as it seems you haven't a clue whats happening. That will only slow me down on returning." He stated bluntly. Ouch..

Although you couldn't argue with the man about parts of his statement, you couldn't help but feel a bit sad—even a tad jealous but most importantly, irritated. He had threatened you multiple occasions, man handled you and even broke your door and now he has the audacity to make you pay for the damages? Scoff

"Xiao."

The adeptus turned his head with a shocked expression, his brows furrowed. "How do you kno-"

"I cannot disclose that to you." You smirked, but quickly cleared your throat. "The important thing here is for you to realize that going outside in a different universe in those clothings and a large-jade—which, in this world, is a hella rare mineral, is off putting. Yea, to add on, you don't have currency-" Xiao then rolled his eyes before going to take mora from his inventory. "-and no—mora doesn't work here. So technically you'd be homeless because honestly, nobody here is willing to give crap for free." You sighed, "Trust me, this world is a lot more diabolical than what it shows from the exterior." You mumbled mockingly.

The adeptus looked down in thought for a moment before sighing and ascending down from the window sill. You mentally high fived yourself at your bad-ass arguementive speaking skills.

A moment of silenced washed over the two of you as you awkwardly stared at eachother. With each second passing, it somehow kept getting quieter.

You cleared your throat, "uhm, sir."

Xiao looked towards you with a questioning look. You only pointed to your new splintered and broken door. "You. You caused that."

The adeptus only closed his eyes as he crossed his arms. What for? Maybe in thought? You didn't know. Your main focuses were to get the door fixed and to figure out what happens next as it seemed like the adeptus had Isekaied but reversed.

How long this day was becoming...

...

{This isn't proof-read, so in advanced i apologize if everything is all over the place as this is my first reversed isekaied story. If theres any suggestions for the next part please write them down! I love reading the comments ^^}

> Part 1

..........

[ Masterlist ]

[quibbs126]

So I got around to redesigning Charcoal Cheese (yet again failing at not doing my designs, but I have been thinking about him and how to change him, so it’s not that bad)

For those that don’t remember the original (because it was almost a year ago), I’ll link it, but also I’ll just put a picture here

I had to redo him because the Golden Cheese update came out and the whole “kingdom being destroyed and everyone dying” thing kind of messed with things. Also he was basically like a gatekeeper for the kingdom, which is literally Burnt Cheese

But his new backstory is that he survived the destruction of the Golden Cheese Kingdom as a child, having been able to successfully flee, but he never returned to the ruins because he was terrified the monsters were still there, and so Golden Cheese thought he died, but couldn’t find his body to upload to the Golden City. Meanwhile Charcoal Cheese got amnesia, either from an injury or just repressed memories, and so he just lives in and wanders around the Parmesan Desert, and he just has a feeling to avoid the Golden Cheese Kingdom ruins. Also in his time he’s learned how to ride the Sand Jelly Worms and successfully avoid them

Meanwhile Dark Cacao has no clue about any of this and has just been assuming that Charcoal Cheese has been living fine with his mother. Yes he’s somewhat concerned that he’s not heard anything from his son since he was a child, but he doesn’t know where Golden Cheese has gone to anyways and is just hoping the best

I was originally gonna make his new backstory that he died but not all of his body parts could be found, so instead he’s just a ghost that wanders both the desert and the Golden City and Golden Cheese has no clue what’s happening. But I was struggling with trying to figure out a design and how his age works, until I got the new idea. Now he’s old

He’s still a bit of a prideful ass, but he also helps travelers avoid the worms and warns them of the ruins. Just don’t stroke his ego

That was quite a bit on backstory, but I have thoughts on him, alright?

Well then on to design. Not explaining the name because I did that in the original

I wanted to keep his little beard because he’s like one of the only ones with facial hair. Maybe I could have made it more though

I also changed his face markings because the original got mistaken for eye bags. Also it’s a purple diamond like his dad

His cloak was originally going to be brown, but I changed it to black because I thought it fit more with charcoal cheddar being mostly black. Also it means cool contrast with the inner part of the cloak (maybe he reverses it based on time of day)

I wasn’t planning on giving him gold stuff, since he’s supposed to be a desert hobo, but I ended up giving him some anyways. I guess it’s the dormant Golden Cheese itch for gold

Also this doesn’t have to do with the design process, but looking at the two designs side by side, you can really see the evolution of my Cookie Run style, and I’m kind of proud of that

But yeah, that’s about it for Charcoal Cheese, I hope you like his new look!

[acfh-vn]

does rook have an NSFW alphabet??.w.

~Rook's NSFW Alphabet~

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Rook is extremely cuddly and clingy. You want to get up and go pee or take a shower? You're either going to take him with you or be staying in bed. B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Rook doesn't like how he looks, and he can get really self-conscious at times. But his favorite part of you are your lips. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) He loves it when you swallow :) D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He has a hand kink E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Absolutely 100% virgin boi, has no clue what he's doing and will need some guidance. F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) Reverse Cowgirl G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) He's so desperate it's practically goofy H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) Uh.... well, he doesn't grow a whole lot of hair there, so it's like patchy and curly. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) Like I said, he's desperate and whiny. He just wants you two to feel good together, but he may go too fast, so you gotta guide them. J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) He thinks of your lips and how soft they are....and bam. Cums immediately. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Praise kink (receiving and giving) Sensory deprivation kink (such as being blindfolded, and not being able to hear.) Overstimulation (receiving) L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) Your bed. He likes the thought of that every time you go to your room, you'll remember what you two did :) M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Call him a good boy. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Ageplay. Big no no. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Receiving, he's going to buck and rut himself into your throat, so you gotta tell him you're in control or he'll start face-fucking you. Giving? Uh... you're going to have to give the poor boy some guidance. P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) He starts off slow but he wil get rougher on accident unless you say something. Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Absolutely loves them. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) He's open for anything except ageplay. S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) He will go until he passes out. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) He owns a sock.... U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He doesn't tease much, but he will absolutely die/pos if you tease them. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) Very much a whimperer. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) He's a subby bottom, but he will top and dom if you want them to. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) *coughs* 12 inches. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) It's very high but he is more reserved about it. Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards Legit will not sleep until you do.

[entomolog-t]

What if a person just assumes the borrower is another human, just shrunk? I think most people wouldn’t immediately assume the very human-looking thing they’ve caught is another creature entirely (unless it’s one of those borrower versions with animal features like a tail and such). So the questions would be along the lines of: How did you shrink? Is there a way to get you back to normal?

The best part is that the ball is in the borrower’s court now. They have to choose between telling the human the truth about themselves, and potentially risk their safety by doing so. Or they could play along with the human’s assumptions and keep themselves in relative safety by letting the human think they’re one of them.

Obviously the lying option could lead to a lot of angst in the future if the human found out the truth. Especially if the human keeps trying their best to help the borrower get back to ‘normal size’ but nothing works, leaving the borrower wondering how long they’re willing to keep up the charade. Meanwhile the human gets more and more upset that they can’t help their tiny friend.

OH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS

The sheer angst potential with the borrower assuming the only reason the human is treating them like an equal is because they think they're human? So they just dwell on it so much. At first they may feel smug, thinking that the human is stupid, but they realize they may have misjudged their own intelligence because why would a human just let a stranger who has been shrunk wander freely around their home?? So they've unwittingly committed themselves to be attached to the human until they can either find a good escape where they won't go looking for them, or until they admit what they really are.

As they spend time with the human they are less desperate for escape in some sense. The freedom from danger, the liberal amount of food, the comforts the human is willing to provide them... its nice. They miss their personal freedom, and keeping up this ruse is a bit exhausting since they aren't the most familiar with human culture.... but the human is ... nice.

They've grown a friendship with this human, and they want to be able to tell them the truth. They see how worried the human is about them... They've been freaking out about how to get ahold of their family, and how in the hell they're supposed to find a way to reverse it... and they do want their freedom of movement back... They make up their mind that they're going to tell the human but-

Theres a slip up.

Maybe they said something weird, maybe the human put together too many little clues, or maybe another borrower shows up. They panic. No no no no no. This was supposed to be on their terms. They can feel themselves hyperventalating. They don't even want to look at the human. This is at best humiliating, at worst... was the human angry?? they lied. they took advantage of their kindness. They feel a hand start to encircle them and they flinch out of it's grasp.

No.

No, of course they were angry. Why wouldn't they be??

"H-hey... are you okay?"

The words seem to stop all their thoughts. All they can feel is their heart pounding in their ears. They look up at the human... at their friend and see nothing but concern in their eyes.

It breaks them.

They sob into the hand. A mix of guilt and shame and relief and happiness. They're a mess. The human waits to ask questions but takes the new information in stride. Ehh, its not that much weirder than finding a shrunken person right?

That is.... until like... 4 hours later.

The borrower hears banging on the walls.

"Hey ! Uh.... How many times have you heard me being... um weird?"

The borrower can't help but laugh, knowing immediately what the human is talking about. They would constantly talk to themselves in weird little voices, make strange noises, sing to themselves... Hell, they did it to but its not like they had an audience.

"Um" they clear their throat, a little more reassured with a wall between them "... enough."

A resounding thud sends vibrations through the borrower's chambers as the human hits their head against the wall. The groan that follows has the borrower struggling to keep from laughing.

"Fuck you." They can hear their smile despite not seeing them.

This... this could work.

[punkitt-is-here]

Hey, I repair desktops and laptops for my day job and just wanted to throw my two cents in because it's the Internet. Also you're cool and I like trying to help cool people.

It really sounds like the bearings for the fan are failing. Especially if it still sounds rough after cleaning. If you're trying to clean the laptop fan with air, please hold the fan in place so it doesn't free spin. Free spinning past it's rated rpm will actually cause damage to the fan (and if fast enough backwards, it can cause a reverse current back into your motherboard, that's extremely rare nower days, but if you had an air compressor, it's possible)

It looks like you're using a Lenovo laptop (maybe one of the Legion ones?) If you need to do a fan replacement, it's either extremely easy and just popping off the bottom casing and replacing the fan, or it's a little more involved and you might need to take the heatsink off too. That's a good time to replace your thermal paste if you haven't done it in a couple years.

If it is a Lenovo laptop, their support site actually gives you the exact model number for each of their parts, but other major brands have pretty easily replaceable parts just by searching for the name of the laptop model + part.

If another deep clean doesn't work out and this all sounds like way too much, I do recommend getting it into a shop at some point. Fan failure can cook a gpu or processor and with laptops, they're pretty much impossible to replace as individual components. Which means replacing the whole motherboard, and that can get very expensive. If this is the model I think it is, this does share a heat pipe between both cpu and gpu to both fans, so you're more likely to just get a lot of thermal throttling and shut downs before it cooks itself, but better safe than sorry.

Feel free to shoot any questions if you'd like more help and sorry about the essay in your ask box. Best of luck!

WOAH this is super helpful, thank you so much! We gave it a deep clean and i will admit oops we did not hold the fan in place while we cleaned a lot of it. never gave it more than a couple short bursts of air but it seemed like everything was where it was supposed to be. it currently works and nothing seems to be heating up at all, it just sounds like a helicopter starting up but it goes away. no clue what's goin on yet. air IS coming out the vents and we cleaned a LOT of dust and hair out of it, so it seems to be....faring well aside from the occasional noise. id love more help at some point if possible because google is a bitch trying to figure out exactly how to work this stuff.

[seedsinmygarden]

HLC REACT: Watching MC Marry Someone Else

I think this was my very first one of Scarlet's that I did! It was a lot of fun, and I think it was meant to be sadder than it was, but I liked to think that most of them would be happy that MC found happiness.

Word Count: 1,622 words

Tags and Warnings: Some angst, mostly nice and fluffy (though platonic).

--

OMINIS GAUNT: He stood by Sebastian as he watched MC walk down the aisle in their gorgeous attire. He wished he was the one standing in Sebastian’s place, he wished he was the one speaking vows to MC, he wished he was the one wearing the grooms’ robes… but he had a smile on his face regardless because while he wished it was him, he was still ecstatic that his best friend had found happiness after such a tumultuous era in Hogwarts. He always knew that MC would never want to marry a Gaunt— truly, who would? It would only lead them to a future of pain. At least as a Sallow, they would have freedom.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He had less grace than Ominis did and when he watched MC walk up the aisle to Amit Thakkar. He had no clue why they had invited him, truly— MC and Sebastian’s relationship was strained after their time in Hogwarts. Perhaps they only invited him because Anne was in the wedding party? It didn’t matter— what mattered is that he wasn’t the one up there, holding MC’s hands as they spoke their vows softly to each other. As soon as the ceremony ended, Sebastian extended his wishes to the couple through Anne and left early, using the excuse of ‘work emergency’ to get out. Thank Merlin he was an Auror, because then it was actually a valid excuse…

AMIT THAKKAR: MC’s wedding with Garreth is absolutely lovely! It’s so quaint and cute and cozy and MERLIN he wished he could have taken some inspiration for his own wedding with Samantha Dale-Thakkar UGHHHHH. He laughs to himself a bit as he watches the lovely couple dance their first dance at the reception, remembering the schoolboy crush he had on MC back during their time in Hogwarts, and the one utterly disastrous date they had gone on before agreeing they were better off as friends. He was glad that he and MC were able to move on (in fact, it was MC who helped him get a date with Samantha in their seventh year!), but he would always find himself wondering what-ifs. Regardless, he was happy, MC was happy, and that’s all he could have ever asked for.

GARRETH WEASLEY: MC had asked Garreth to officiate their wedding with Imelda Reyes, and he had eagerly accepted. How he had the certification to do so? No one knows, not even Garreth himself, he knows he just woke up with it in his pocket after a night at the bar with the boys. After checking that it wasn’t just a false certification and seeing that there was a fee to reverse it, Garreth kept it and it made to be a great joke around town— if you get married by a Weasley, that means a lot of kids are to come in the future! Either way, here he stood, in front of MC and Imelda as they had linked hands and looked at him, ready to begin the ceremony. He grins and with a glance to his own husband, he takes a breath and sets off to marry his sixth-year crush to the love of their life. He didn’t mind it, really, he had moved on a long time ago and found love with a particular blond Slytherin.

NATSAI ONAI: Natty was in the wedding party as MC gets married to the lovely Adelaide Oakes. Natty and Addy had grown closer to the point that Addy had asked Natty to be one of her bridesmaids in the wedding when MC proposed. MC was excited, happy that Addy had grown to love all their friends just as much as they did to the point that she wanted to have some of them in the wedding party. Natty was excited as well, but when she went to bed that night, she had wondered if this was the right thing to do. She never wished their separation— she had lost her chance and accepted that fact a long time ago. She just could never get over MC. In time, she will. She knows that much. And so the wedding went on, with Natty smiling brightly as she watches Addy and MC share their first kiss as married partners.

POPPY SWEETING: Watching MC get married to Anne Sallow was certainly something she wasn’t expecting, especially seeing as Anne wasn’t even there during their fifth year. Yet they had met, through Sebastian, and, well… here they were, standing in front of each other at a makeshift altar in the fields near Hogsmeade. It was a beautiful summer wedding, a nice cool breeze passing through every so often. Poppy was partially working that wedding, but she had some assistance to be able to fully enjoy it— Eleazar (the Phoenix!) was going to fly their rings down the aisle, there was a little petting zoo of all the less-harmful animals in one corner, and then last but not least, Highwing would be flying the two away back to Feldcroft, where they would enjoy their first night together as a wedded couple after the dinner and reception. Poppy could almost imagine herself in Anne’s place— truthfully, she wished she was, but she had lost her chance long ago. Now, she was going to be happy that MC had found happiness.

IMELDA REYES: EVERETT. FUCKING. CLOPTON. First of all, HOW. Second of all, WHY? Third of all, MC, blink twice if you’re being held hostage and forced to marry him against your will. In all seriousness, though, Imelda could see how MC grew attracted to the guy in the first place. He may have still had his squeaky voice and not great hygiene when they first met in fifth year, but his voice had grown deeper and he finally cleaned up his routine by the time they graduated Hogwarts. Really, who WASN’T chasing Everett? He even cleaned up so well for his wedding that Imelda was almost jealous of MC! The feeling of a hand slipping into hers distracts her from the train of thought she was one and she looks over to her own wife, the former Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and her partner-in-crime on the Hollyhead Harpies. Imelda fell in love with MC wayyy back in fifth year, but then she had also properly met the woman that would become her wife and, well, one thing led to another… Regardless, Imelda was happy for MC and her crush on them had long since diminished, long before her own wedding. EVERETT THOUGH??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN—

ANNE SALLOW: Watching MC marry Natty was much more painful than Anne had anticipated it being. She genuinely did believe that she had a chance with them, but that could have been the ‘rescue romance’ talking. Ever since MC had saved her life from the curse that had plagued her, the curse that had stolen an entire year at Hogwarts from her, she felt indebted to them in more ways than one. It wasn’t healthy to romanticize it, she knew that, but she couldn’t help herself— there were so many other things that furthered the connection she felt. And then her heart broke the day that it had gotten around school that MC was dating Natty. That they were the ‘it’ couple, that they were going to get married and have beautiful babies— why was that a topic of conversation, Anne will never know. Then, five years after that day, they got married. Anne was there in the audience, watching Sebastian as he stood by MC’s side with a proud grin and she matches his pride for MC with a smile of her own. She can mourn this loss, yes, but then she will move along. Perhaps she can see if Amit would like a dance…

EVERETT CLOPTON: Everett kind of expected it. He knows he was an ass with poor hygiene throughout school, there was no way that MC would have ever wanted to be with him. At least romantically— they were kind enough to be friends with him, which he was still so eternally grateful for. It’s how he landed an invite to their wedding, a witness to their marriage to Poppy Sweeting. Everett couldn’t deny, the wedding itself was beautiful and there was the promise of a little petting zoo at the reception, with a phoenix even! There had been times where he wished he was the one standing up there instead of Poppy, but he pushed those thoughts down. He should be happy for MC finding happiness, even if that happiness doesn’t quite lie with him.

LEANDER PREWETT: Like Everett, Leander expected it. He was also an ass but at least he had better hygiene than the Ravenclaw Quidditch-pro wannabe. But he was more of an ass than Everett, even if he didn’t actually mean it half the time, tormenting first-years was his primary form of entertainment. Regardless, he was still MC’s friend, and attended the wedding ceremony where they would get married to the loveliest Samantha Dale. How could he ever compete with the plant-loving beauty of Ravenclaw? Even he held a small liking for her at one point— who wouldn’t— and MC was lucky to have her hand in marriage. Leander wasn’t close enough to the couple to be standing up there with them, but he was invited to the ceremony and the dinner that would follow, and he happily went, eager to see some old friends as well. Unlike Everett, however, Leander had already come to terms with it— that MC had found happiness, and that it wasn’t with him. All too common in his lifetime, but hey, he had a great plus one partner in one of Sam’s friends from Hufflepuff, Leonora Everleigh.

[wisebeth]

it's actually so funny to me when antis are like “oh annabeth is so abusive bc she judoflipped percy” it really shows how they have no clue how a different universe with different morals and dynamics can work. don't get me wrong im not a huge fan of that scene either but it's not abuse when the one getting judoflipped is a trained demigod-soldier who fought a war and equally physically strong as the one judoflipping him. percy carried a goddess and held up the weight of the world at fourteen. you think a judoflipp can actually hurt him? lmao. it can't do him shit, rick knew it that's why he wrote annabeth to do so. annabeth knew it that's why she did it w/o worrying about hurting him. and the fact percy's immediate reaction was laughing just proves my point. it didn't hurt him. he was completely okay. he's written to be a demigod for fuck's sake, can you stop applying the standards of real world to their fictional world of trained soldiers.

“but if the roles were reversed you'd have an issue–” no i won't. for the exact same reason. if percy judoflipped annabeth instead, i would still be okay with it because like percy, annabeth has trained all her life, fought a war, held up the weight of the world at fourteen. they're EQUAL on terms of physical strength and trained enough to know how to judoflip without the intent of hurting the other person. the only difference is if percy judoflipped annabeth, instead of laughing, she would likely judoflip him back because that girl doesn't like losing lmao but that's about it.

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

last < table of contents > next

In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

[phantomoftheorpheum]

Okay, I got a chance to watch the School Spirits season finale (1x08) and I have so many thoughts and feelings! As usual, I'll be placing them below a cut to shorten the post & to hide spoilers.

Okay. Okay. I literally just finished watching so this is me processing in real time. idk how I feel. Because there are some things I like a lot, but others that I just... I'm not sure. I haven't been convinced.

Let's start with this- I don't love that the entire money/blackmailing scheme seemingly means nothing?? I thought it would at least factor in a little, since we spent so much time on it. The only way it ties in now is that Janet is using the money Nicole stole to get away. I think it's a bit unsatisfying that we get to uncover all these clues & 90% of them just go completely out of the window.

I also don't love that Maddie's "death" ties entirely back to Mr. Martin & Janet. While, obviously, there are still some questions there as to precisely what is happening, I think I would have liked this plot point a lot more if an actual living person "killed" Maddie for a real world reason, but it didn't actually kill her, but the vulnerability of the moment/being injured is what allowed Janet & Maddie to essentially switch places. Then what happened to Maddie has ties to both life & death. And there's still a person out there who did attack/attempt to kill her (and also adds a dimension of them only having some of the info & not understanding what's going on), but there's also this whole supernatural situation going on.

I'm super conflicted about the Janet situation as a whole. While it definitely opens up some interesting possibilities for season 2 (pls, I need it), I am always nervous about anything that potentially makes death less permanent. I've said before that I don't want Maddie to be alive & even with this revelation, I'm not sold on a potential conclusion that would end with her alive/back in control of her body. Obviously this would be a distinct possibility, since it's unclear exactly how/what happened with Janet/Maddie and presumably it could be reversed. I know everyone will feel differently about this, but I personally tend to feel emotionally cheated when I'm asked to invest in a character's death and then it's walked back. So much of this season has revolved around emotionally plucking at our heartstrings, either by having characters hope that Maddie's alive when the audience has been told she's dead (like with her mom & Nicole), or with a character like Simon who is processing knowing she's "dead" & grieving her loss, that I wouldn't want to feel like those scenes exist to get an emotional response from the audience, not because they have weight long term in the story. Like I said, everyone has a different tolerance level for this, and I know mine is pretty low. That being said, I am staying cautiously optimistic that this could go in a really interesting/satisfying direction, if handled delicately.

Ngl, I wish we'd gotten more ghosts in the most recent episode. I just love the ghost characters & would have liked a little more time with them. I also now feel like I need to rewatch & try to figure out exactly when Rhonda became suspicious/found the info on Mr. Martin. I know we saw her in the fallout shelter earlier, but I'm wondering if her "I wanna cross over" thing was entirely an act, or if she only found out later.

Mr. Martin. Okay, what exactly is he trying to accomplish & what abilities does he have? He somehow managed to lock Charley, Wally, & Rhonda up. He's able to make notes and collect objects, even when he isn't interacting with them. Maddie saw him before anything happened to her. It doesn't seem like he and Janet planned what happened to Maddie (at least not in this way) because he yells at Janet not to move when they are interrupted by Maddie and Janet had been yelling for help. Why are there no notes on Janet? What does the "thinning" note that Wally found mean? Thin the ghosts or thin the veil? How is he trying to use this?So many questions here.

I think, given a little time, Simon has to come back around on the idea that Maddie can't just be a hallucination pretty quickly because she gave him info/led him places, etc. that he would never have been able to puzzle out without her help. One of many examples- if Maddie isn't "real" he wouldn't have known Mr. Anderson's phone code. He got that info from Maddie who got it from Dawn.

I actually found myself warming up to Xavier (as a character, not ever again as a love interest for Maddie, to be clear) more than anticipated in this episode. He has made some shitty mistakes, but he does seem to be trying and I have to give him credit for that. Plus, the scene of him, Nicole, & Claire in the truck arguing was genuinely pretty fun.

Loose threads: I know I've brought it up before, but wtf is going on with the social media thing? Was it really accidentally Mrs. Nears? Was it Janet? But how could it be Janet, she didn't have Maddie's phone (I guess she could know people's log ins like Dawn, but why would she do that?), and Janet doesn't actually gain anything by making people think Maddie is alive if she's staying hidden & trying to run away in Maddie's body. I assume the reason she didn't leave town sooner was because she didn't have the means? It's hard to speculate too much about Janet, since we don't know anything about her personality/wants/involvement with Mr. Martin/moral compass/etc.

I'm not surprised that possession became a plot point (Dawn talking about it just seemed too important for it to not), but I wasn't sure if they were going to dive into that with this season or if that was set up for season 2. Obviously it came into play for season 1. Like I said, still processing that.

I do really hope we get a season 2. While there are some elements (particularly the stuff surrounding how permanent death is) that make me a little nervous about things going off the rails, there are so many interesting things (and characters) they could explore & I want to see where they take things. There's a lot of set up for season 2, but also a lot of the mystery/whodunnit elements are currently wrapped up (since we see the scene of Maddie's.... I'm gonna keep calling it "death" because I don't know what else to call it), it feels like we might need another external mystery for season 2.

Anyway, definitely still processing things. More thoughts to come in a bit! Also I still adore Wally & need him to be happy.

[hopeymchope]

I almost always seem to have the minority opinion on media. And I'm really sick of it now.

I've been on a Fire Emblem kick again lately. But unfortunately, as much as I love all of the Fire Emblem games on 3DS? That's approximately how much I hate Fire Emblem: Three Houses on Switch. ....which is, of course, the most popular/successful game in the series to date.

Okay, look: In Fire Emblem, I really like the strategy-combat stuff and the storylines + support conversations. THAT'S the tasty meat. Anything else? Is irritating busywork to me. So if I spend between 2/3-3/4 of a supposed Fire Emblem game doing the other shit? You've crafted a great recipe to make me feel like I'm MOSTLY doing stuff I hate, and thusly I shall hate your game. And that's the START of the issue with Three Houses. (I must resist getting into the protagonist being a mute cipher OR how multiple side activities require blind luck or a guide to succeed OR bitching about the weak battle map design... oh shit oh SHIT I'M OUTING MYSELF, RUN FOR IT MARTY!)

By comparison, this year's Fire Emblem Engage feels like a step back in the right direction! I'm playing it a lot right now, and I'm mostly having a good time! Still more busywork than I want in these games, but it's at least back on the side of "more good than bad." So of course, if I look this game up and read any fan reviews or watch any videos... they're all about how disapppointing and sucky it is in comparison.

God. Of COURSE they are.

I really don't know why the advances they made with Fire Emblem Echoes haven't carried into the newer games. 3D dungeons you can explore for items and enemy encounters in a Persona-like fashion? Genius! Make it the template going forward! ..... What's that? Not even most fans bothered to buy or play that game??? So no one fucking cares about that feature?

.........fucking hell. Of COURSE they don't.

See, this is how it always goes for me. If I fall in love with a movie, I'll later learn it's either hated or ignored by its own fandom or by the masses at large. If I get emotionally invested in some weird game and its characters? There's a high probability that almost no one played it. And those who did? They didn't like it as much as me. If I think a game is really annoying and full of boring shit? Great reviews, huge fandom, etc.

I could make an utterly wild fucking list of things I like/love that other people hate. And the same is true in reverse. Sometimes, even when I agree with the hate on something, I don't agree with ANY of the reasons for WHY other people hate it!

Before you ask: It doesn't matter whether I know the "majority opinion" in advance of seeing/experiencing something, or I have no clue wht people think of something until I look it up later. I've gone to many midnight premieres of movies that weren't yet screened for critics, and I typically always wind up on the wrong side of the majority. I've played obscure games just because the premise sounded good, fallen in love with them, gone looking for a fandom... and found out that everybody thinks said game is utter shit.

So I'm not just being contrarian; this shit comes NATURALLY.

However, I should make some caveats about this weirdness clear:

Sometimes I feel like I'm on the wrong side of JUST the outspoken part of the audience... but there's evidence to support that my own stance maybe ISN'T so weird. For example: My family and I have always loved 2009's Avatar. We never were dressing up like the goddamn Na'vi or anything so fanatical, but we've rewatched it many times over the years. We regularly quote it to each other around the house. And the massive success of that movie (and its recent sequel) seems to back up that this admiration/enjoyment isn't THAT crazy or esoteric, RIGHT? It's just that the Internet is extremely outspoken about Avatar supposedly being lame and totally unmemorable. Remember how people in 2022 kept being like "You can't remember even three character names from that movie! Nobody quotes it!" and shit like that? I was one of the people going "I will list you NINE characters and spew DOZENS of quotes at you."

My "minority opinion" thing only stretches so far. It's not like I thought The Room was the best movie I'd ever seen or angrily felt Tears of the Kingdom was the worst game I ever played. That would be beyond "minority" and more "MADNESS." There's a limit to this weirdness; it has to be within a certain degree of reason, you know? Some things just aren't POSSIBLE to totally flip the script on. Birdemic will always be embarrassingly terrible, and I refuse to believe anyone would legitimately feel otherwise. OK?

This isn't completely universal, either. There are always exceptions where I actually wind up on the right side of the majority. They're just... rarer than the other thing, honestly.

It gets exhausting to always feel like I'm on the defensive or at worst, utterly alone in how I think among the larger community. I don't want this anymore.

But I don't get a say, clearly. I'm just going to keep doing this. I'm going to go see a movie on opening weekend and think "Wow, what an awful piece of shit" only to find that DECADES LATER, people still cite it as one of the best movies in its genre. I'm going to adore a modern revival of a classic comic book, then I'll go online and find that it's widely considered an abomination before god. This is who I am. It's just REALLY tiring to be here.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 8

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 7 🟣 Part 9

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Mentions of blood, biting, vampire stuff, mention of needles and stitches. Tell me if I missed something.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: I just keep hitting everybody with more info, or so it would seem... I'm glad I got this finished, because Chapter 9 is also well underway, and I hope to get that done today. Are we still good on the smut? Do we need more smut? (I genuinely think this is the longest I've gone without writing smut for a series XD)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @teamfan7asy @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81

The door to Marshall’s room slammed shut uncharacteristically loudly. The boys didn’t slam doors; their movements were far too precise, too controlled for that kind of nonsense. Same went for slumping down on a bed so suddenly that you wouldn’t be surprised if the downstairs neighbors came up to complain about it. Curiosity got the better of you, and you walked to the source of the sounds. In the back of your mind, you wondered if this was a good idea; Mike was away to feed, Sherlock and August weren’t back from work yet… Marshall hadn’t been home since yesterday. What if this wasn’t even him?

“It’s me,” he answered through the still closed door. He’d obviously heard your thoughts.

“Marshall,” you said, pushing the door open carefully, “are you okay?” An answer was completely unnecessary: Marshall was laying in bed, looking pale and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes. Alright, paler, more exhausted, and darker circles than usual. He was a cop, after all, which appeared to be tough, even on a vampire, so a certain level of tired and grumpy was normal for him.

“No,” he said with a faint smile on his face. “You can come in, it’s fine.” His voice was hoarse, and he looked like he could fall asleep any second.

“You look exhausted.” There was a question in there somewhere, but you had enough trouble finding it yourself, so you didn’t expect Marshall to know, either. “You’re cold. Hungry?” That was impossible, he’d fed not even three weeks ago – which made it all the more surprising when he nodded.

“Starving,” he said softly.

“How?” you wondered. He was colder than any of them usually was when they needed to feed.

“Perp was one of us. Horrible chase. Horrible fight. And then they had me interrogate him for hours, going full speed on the mind-reading.”

“You’re allowed to use that?” It seemed like an unfair advantage. Then again…

“I’m licensed and everything.” You honest to God hadn’t had a clue that that was even a thing. Marshall chuckled, which told you he was listening. You had come to terms with the fact that Mike and Marshall were usually at least a little in your head, even though they weren’t necessarily in your head. Marshall had explained to you that the hearing of thoughts you weren’t planning on saying out loud part of his gift was more or less passive. He couldn’t turn it off, he could at most try to not act on what he heard. The same applied to Mike – who had stated outright that he’d be completely out of his mind to ignore it, and he’d made a point of proving that by deliberately doing so one night in bed. Or rather ‘consequently doing the exact opposite of what he felt you wanted most’, which you still felt did skew the results a fair bit. Nevertheless, you’d – more or less begrudgingly – agreed to let things go back to the way they were, even though you were still getting used to the fact that you couldn’t lie to him.

Then, according to Marshall, there was the active mind-reading, which gave him basically full access to someone’s thoughts, but it cost a lot of ‘battery’, as he’d described it. That battery seemed to be completely empty right now.

“You need to feed,” you said without thinking. “Did they just let you leave like this?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but something told you that wasn’t remotely true. “They gave me pretty much everything they had in reserve; it should get me through the night.”

“This is after they gave you a snack?” He laughed at the comparison.

“Yeah. Can you make me something to eat, maybe? A sandwich or something?” You were caught between a rock and a hard place; trying not to offer would be impossible, because the thought was already there, and he’d already heard it. Despite that fact, Marshall didn’t seem keen on accepting an offer you hadn’t even made yet, so you agreed to make him some food.

When you returned from the kitchen, the door to Marshall’s room was locked. Strange… Why would he do that if he needed to eat so bad?

“Just put it down, go to your room, lock the door, and stay there,” you heard from the other side of the door. What the hell? No! “I don’t want to hurt you, get away from me.”

“Walter Marshall, open this door.” It wasn’t a question, but that didn’t make him listen.

“Get. The fuck. Away from me.” Holy shit. That voice… He barely sounded human. Alright, he wasn’t human, so that may or may not have had something to do with that, but still. “Please leave.” A single tear ran down your cheek as you turned around and did what he asked you to do – and that single tear turned into two, turned into three, turned into too many to count once you turned the lock on your bedroom door. You leaned your back against it and lowered yourself until you were sitting on the floor, resting your head on your knees, and crying for God knows what silly reason. Marshall was in so much pain, and there was nothing you wanted more than to help him. Why wouldn’t he let you…

For a moment, you forgot you hadn’t actually made the offer, even though you knew he was in the loop on the fact that you had wanted to, and after a few minutes, you carefully made your way back to his room. The sandwich you’d made him – tuna salad with plenty of mayonnaise – wasn’t where you’d left it. That was good.

Over the past few weeks, you’d become well acquainted with the guys’ preferences when it came to their favorite calorie-dense snacks. For Marshall, it was hard to go wrong with anything that involved bread and mayo, August would be happy with just about any kind of pasta, Sherlock was particularly fond of inhuman amounts of cheese and – as was to be expected – Mike had a massive sweet tooth.

“Marshall?” You knocked on the door, even though you knew there was no way he hadn’t heard you. A soft grunt sounded from the other side of the door.

“Come in.” Did he sound embarrassed? He was lying on his bed, facing away from the door, curled up in a ball. You’d say ‘small ball’, but that would just seem weird when talking about a guy Marshall’s size.

“Are you feeling better?” You sat down on the bed and put a hand on his shoulder. If he was feeling any better, he sure as fuck didn’t look like it. The overly dramatic sigh didn’t help convince you that the answer he gave you was true.

“Yeah.”

“Liar,” you said, and you pushed against his arm. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to move him if you tried your hardest, but now, he just kinda… rolled. “You need to feed.”

“I’ll ask Mike when he gets back.” There was something very evasive about his voice, and normally your first instinct would have been not to pry, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Marshall, what the hell was that? Just now.” Of course, he tried to avoid giving you an answer by trying to convince you it had been nothing, but you didn’t buy it. When he looked at you, you could clearly see the embarrassment on his face.

“I was just about ready to jump you,” he said. “For food, I mean.” As if you’d expected anything else…

“I have a better idea, move over.” You rolled up your sleeve and waved your arm in front of his face.

“I’d object to this idea, for Mikey’s sake,” Marshall said, “but I’m way too fucking hungry.” You noticed his fangs were down; you could see them when he spoke. It took some shifting around for the both of you to get comfortable, but you found something that worked and that didn’t feel too intimate. There was no way you were going to make him sit on the floor for this, though. He deserved to lie down for a bit.

“I’m going to ask you if you’re sure once.” There was a strange intensity to his voice, and he grabbed your arm so tight it was almost painful. Scratch that, it was painful. As soon as you told him you were sure, he bit down – hard.

“Fuck!” The word was out before you even realized, but he really hurt you when he bit you. The pain didn’t last long, though; within a few seconds, you felt like you were in a nice, warm bath.

You were beginning to construct a theory that the feeling you got varied, depending on the vampire that was feeding on you – although you’d need more experience to really say anything about it – but whether it was true or not, it still felt great. Marshall was rough, clearly starving, sucking on your arm as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, you couldn’t be sure.

‘It’s not that dramatic.’ The voice startled you, and without thinking, you pulled away from Marshall. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to bring back his initial death-grip on your arm. His teeth tore a little further into your flesh, leaving you with two serious-looking gashes on your arm as he let you go. It made you jump more than it actually hurt.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“What the damn hell?” Mikey. Within a split-second, Marshall was nowhere to be found, and you were looking around frantically to find out where he’d gone. He was pinned against the wall by Mike, who looked just about ready to rip his throat out.

“Mikey, let go of him,” you said calmly. “Now.” Mike’s grip on Marshall’s throat relaxed, but he didn’t step away.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt her, man,” Marshall said. “You know that.”

“I think you’re going to start explaining why the fuck you were feeding on her in the first place!” His voice cracked when he said it, which might have been funny if the circumstances had been different.

“Mike! Stop being so goddamn… territorial! I am not your property!” Shit, that definitely rubbed him the wrong way. His hand dropped to his side, and he stared at you, mouth hanging open and seemingly on the verge of tears. “He needed help, Mikey.” He still did. Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, and you were fairly sure that one look at Marshall would tell Mike you weren’t lying; he still looked like death warmed up.

“Look at me, man,” Marshall said. There was that familiar look in his eyes, and right now it was the only thing that made him look normal. Which was very, very concerning, because that look still weirded you out. Mike finally backed off completely.

“I’m sorry for jumping you,” he said quietly, “I heard her scream, and then the whole situation just kinda made me lose it.”

“Can we talk about what happened?” you said curiously, raising your arm for the first time since you’d pretty much tried to pull it out of Marshall’s mouth. You slowly remembered what it had been that had made you jump in the first place. “How did I hear your voice while you were feeding?”

“I’m sorry about that, I should have warned you. I didn’t think it would happen, since it was the first time,” Marshall said as he sat down next to you. Mike joined you on your other side and wrapped an arm around you. He pressed something to your arm – a washcloth – and you realized he’d made a pitstop in the bathroom on his way over to you. You hadn’t even noticed. “It’s a sort of… attunement. Common between naturals and feeding vampires, but it usually requires…”

“Attunement?” you asked almost sarcastically. Mike laughed.

“Well, yeah.” Marshall chuckled. “I’m guessing it’s because we’ve been living together for a while now, that’s really the only explanation I can think of.” That sounded plausible. It was strange how completely calm you were about these things now – especially compared to a couple of weeks ago, when you’d been screaming at Mike for not telling you he was a vampire. Which, in hindsight, was really something you should have noticed – it was something you kept beating yourself up over.

“We’ll ask Sherlock when he gets back,” Mike said. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t just going to let this go.

“Ask Sherlock what when he gets back?” Sherlock suddenly asked from two feet away, startling you. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to startle you. Can I take a look at that?” Before you could answer, he was on his knees in front of you, inspecting the wounds on your arm.

“These are going to need stitches,” he said softly. Marshall’s breath caught in his throat for a second, and you turned your head towards him. He looked absolutely mortified.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. The hand you put on his thigh seemed to calm him down a bit. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“May I inquire as to what happened?” Occasionally, Sherlock sounded like he was stuck in the Victorian era.

“I still don’t quite know, myself,” you answered. Other than ‘some kind of attunement’, no one had actually told you anything, so you turned back to Marshall and waited for your answer. Your completely comprehensible, logical, making-all-the-sense-in-the-world answer. Or so you hoped.

“Right. It was a projection of my gift. Normally, I can hear your thoughts. Because I was feeding on you, you got to hear mine.” Oh. That wasn’t half as scary as you’d thought it was, and definitely more understandable than you’d expected. And now you were going to need stitches in your arm because of something entirely un-scary.

“Shouldn’t we be getting me to a doctor?”

“Right,” Mike said. You noticed the grin on his face and squinted. What was he up to?  “Sorted.” You hadn’t moved. Neither had anyone else, as far as you could tell.

“Mike,” Sherlock warned, but there was a definite chuckle to his voice. “He’s not wrong, though. Do you need to see my degree?”

“What? You’re a doctor?”

“I am. Both M.D. and PhD. Several PhD’s, to be precise,” he said. It somehow didn’t sound like bragging – and it probably wasn’t, given the fact that he’d had nine-hundred years to get those degrees. Marshall chuckled at your thought and confirmed that a new degree every few decades wasn’t necessarily that impressive. You stuck your arm out without thinking, and Sherlock disappeared for half a second, and returned with the necessary instruments to take care of the mess that was your arm.

“That medical degree,” you asked, just to be sure, “when did you get that?”

“I got that renewed in the late nineties,” he said, “when we first had the idea to open the clinic.”

“He finished med school in, what was it?” August had made it home safely, too. “Three years?” You looked up at him. He was casually lounging against the doorframe, as usual. It did something to you, and you were fairly sure you could watch August stand there the whole day. When you first moved in, your friends had asked to see a picture of your roommates. If you had let them stare at those pictures for five seconds longer than you did, you’d have had to mop the floor, you were sure of it. And they were hot, there was just no point in trying to deny that. Mike called you out now, everytime he caught you looking. It was almost as if he was trying to illustrate that he wasn’t completely paranoid in his apprehension to a steady feeding arrangement. The past two weeks, however, it had kinda seemed he’d really been getting used to the idea. You talked about it a lot, you considered that a good sign.

“Renewed?” That was confusing, but the more you thought about it… “How old was the one before that?”

“A hundred years, give or take. I wasn’t practicing, at the time, in case you’re wondering. Though I did keep up to date on the goings on in the field. Medical school was a breeze because of that. You’re done, by the way.” You looked down at your arm, then back at Sherlock, and back down again.

“Why’d you maim her in the first place?” August asked Marshall, still not moving out of the doorway.

“It was my fault,” you said immediately, but August just laughed.

“Easy, princess, I’m just kidding,” he said. He was really making good on his promise to be less of a cunt, you’re just not quite used to that yet. Marshall explained what happened at work to the guys – the story made all three of them wince.

“It was a good thing she was home,” he said, gesturing at you, “I… I was cutting it pretty close. Can I get you anything?” Right, that. You sincerely doubted you were ever going to get used to that.

“Some tea would be nice,” you said. “Unrelated: Anyone up for a movie night?” Marshall and August were both in, Sherlock had some work to finish, but said he might join afterwards. You looked at Mike. He still seemed a little on edge about everything that’s happened.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Marshall said before he left to make you tea. Mike, Sherlock, and August got the rest of the story from you; how you had suddenly heard Marshall’s voice in your head and freaked out. It was a very on-brand thing for you to do, clumsy as you were, and the guys laughed at it once they’d made sure you were okay.

It was off to the living room for movies and snacks from there. Mike made you scream when he scooped you off the bed and rushed you to the couch.

“You lot are getting a little too comfortable just…. vampire-ing about the house. Please remember to approach me at a speed I can perceive. I’m tired of living with four walking jump scares waiting to happen.” You clutched at your chest as if it would stop your heart from breaking out.

“Well, that took you a solid couple of months,” August said. He was right; the guys had been making you jump ever since you’d been living here. Mike pointed out that nothing had changed since you’d found out – except for the fact that Sherlock moved in, which technically meant that you were now hyperventilating over one of them appearing out of nowhere more frequently. All jokes aside, they did promise to keep it in mind.

You got comfortable on the couch, with your head in Mikey’s lap, and your feet in August’s, while Marshall was compelled to set you up with drinks, snacks and a blanket. It was still awkward to practically be waited on, and you silently wondered if that was something you’d ever get used to. You know, in the event you’d actually… Anyway. Something strange caught your eye: Mike and Marshall staring at each other, saying nothing, miming a conversation as if they were speaking.

“Boys,” you said, “care to share this little… exchange?”

“Ask her, it’s not up to me,” Mike said. You had a pretty decent idea of what they were discussing, especially when Marshall continued the conversation.

“But you’re okay with that?” As Mike had just so plainly pointed out, you thought, it wasn’t up to him. You knew Marshall could hear you, even though he didn’t show any signs that he’d received your message or anything.

“You look like death warmed up. Which is ironic, because we’re vampires, and we’re literally… death warmed up,” Mike said by means of an answer as to why he was okay with whatever it was that you already knew Marshall was asking for, but hadn’t actually asked you for. “So, I guess you look even worse than that.”

“Ask me what?” There was no way you could keep the irritation out of your voice, and whatever it is that Marshall wanted to ask you, you were inclined to say ‘no’ to just because of this. “I don’t appreciate you guys talking about me like I’m not here, just so you know.”

“I wanted to ask if you would be okay if I…” He hesitated, although you really couldn’t figure out why.

“Finished dinner?” you offered. From the looks of it, Marshall was content with that suggestion, because he shrugged and nodded. “Sure, why not.” This time, he did sit in front of the couch.

“Wait, other arm, if you don’t mind.” In a fraction of a second, your head was on the other side of the couch, and the guys had all switched seats, too. “I believe I just said; move. normally.” The guys laughed and promised – again – that they’d do their best to remember.

Marshall went much easier on you this time around, meaning mostly that his bite didn’t hurt you the way it had before. After a while, something inside you became a little bit curious about the whole gift-projecting situation.

Hey, you thought – although you did feel a little silly about deliberately trying to strike up a conversation in your thoughts, do you think the projection thing works this time around? You heard Marshall hum softly, as if he was considering it, and waited for an answer. That, too, felt silly. For a moment, you felt like you’d just dreamt the whole thing up. You felt Marshall’s grip on your arm tighten, and at first you wondered why, until you heard his voice again.

Depends, if you can hear this, it does.

“Wow,” you said, and Mike and August both hummed surprised semi-questions at you. “Cool.” You decided – for Mike’s sake – to give him a taste of his own medicine for a change. Now if only he’d notice…

Don’t use me to get back at him, Marshall thought. It was so distinct from your own thoughts, you were almost surprised by it. For starters; it was Marshall’s voice, instead of your own. But there was something else. As if it was further away somehow.

You guys need to know what it feels like. You noticed your face automatically went along with the thoughts, as if you were saying them out loud. There was really no other reason for you to raise an eyebrow right now.

As do you, Marshall retorted, we’re used to it. We don’t do it on purpose. August actually mentioned that he hated how much we talked and how loud we are since you moved in.

“Really?” You turned to August, as if he was going to give you an answer.

“Why are you looking at me?” Right.

“Oh. I was just talking to… Thinking to? Eh… Having a conversation with Marshall,” you said, as if that explained everything. Which – of course – it didn’t, so August was still giving you that look.

You might want to repeat what I said, Marshall’s voice sounded in your head. Right… For the first time, you could imagine how the guys would periodically forget that you couldn’t hear them. Apparently, they’d learned not to get too pissed about that…

“Eh, he mentioned something about you being upset at how much talking and noise there’s been since I moved in,” you said apologetically.

“Convenient, huh?” Mike said with a stupid grin on his face – as if he knew any other kind. You couldn’t help but laugh and nod, though, because there was something convenient about it.

“Alright, yes,” August answered, “it’s been a while since I lived with a human. There’s… a certain form of etiquette involved in dealing with you guys.”

“Is ‘limit sudden movement’ not part of that agenda? Because it should be.” There was a sour tone to your voice, but you couldn’t help it.

“Usually, yes. Which is probably why you didn’t figure out we were vampires for a while. Which, I do feel the need to remind you, we genuinely thought you knew,” Mike said while he played with your hair. With Mike stroking your hair, August keeping your feet warm and Marshall still sucking on your arm, you were just about ready to fall asleep.

“But with all the vampire-talk recently… We figured we could be ourselves a bit more.” August added. That made you feel a bit guilty.

“I’m more than fine with that, if you don’t scare the ever-loving fuck out of me,” you said. It was one thing to watch them fetch things really quickly, or coming over like a bat out of hell when you needed one of them – actually, those things were quite convenient – but to have them just show up out of what appeared to be nowhere… That was something else entirely. The guys seemed to understand that just fine.

“Trust me, I was happy as a clam when Sherlock stitched up my arm in under a minute,” you said – and nobody had any trouble believing it.

“For someone who hates needles, you’re doing pretty well on the whole biting-front,” Mike noted, and you scowled at him. You’d never told any of the guys about your fear of needles, because you didn’t want them to make fun of you. “It’s different. Fangs aren’t needles.” Simple enough explanation, right?

[blanketforcas]

A guide to real-person shipping and tinhatting

Most of this can be applied to general tinhatting but I will mainly be focusing on RPS and using examples from cockles fandom. This is based on my experience and what I’ve personally come across. Examples I use are merely illustrative and not meant as shade to anyone.

Let’s get some ethics of rps out of the way first

*disclaimer: this is what I would advise, I know opinions on this do vary

Try to keep it off main as much as possible (ie twitter, tiktok). You can’t always escape the algorithm, some stuff does get seen by the actors. Every actor’s comfort level with this is different, but as a general rule let's say tinhatting stays on tumblr or group chats

Try to avoid stating something as truth unless you’re quoting the actors

This goes without saying, but don’t ever mention the ship to the actors and if they bring it up themselves, don’t forget that’s not a free pass to just say whatever

Now, moving on to some pitfalls and tips

Do some basic research

Is this tweet/post reflecting the truth? Do multiple sources confirm this? Is there video? What was the context? What is happening right before and right after this particular moment? Does that change how you think about it?

When you see a picture you haven’t seen before, are you sure it’s not a manip? Use reverse image search and if nothing comes up, try to look up the event using key words to see if you can find the picture. If it’s hard to find and friends can’t help you either, it’s probably a manip. Obviously also look for signs within the picture itself (strange lines/different lighting on one person/missing limbs etc)

Are you projecting?

We all do it! It’s normal, just try to be aware when you’re doing it. Sometimes actors might indeed be similar to you when it comes to [whatever your theory is about], sometimes not at all. Fact remains you’re more likely to run with it when it’s something you do or feel yourself. Try to ask some friends what they would do/how they would react and maybe you’ll find out it’s less common or obvious than you think.

Confirmation bias is one hell of a drug

It’s surprising how easily a pattern can be found if you actively try to find one. Try to keep thinking critically: do I too quickly add something to the list of evidence because I really want my theory to be true? Does it really belong in that pile or could there be another reason why X happened the way it did?

The more effort it requires to make your theory sound plausible, the less likely it is to be true

Does it need a lot of explanation? Are you having to find a lot of excuses when an alternative explanation is presented? Are there inconsistencies in your theory that are difficult to explain away?

These are all red flags and should make you question the validity of your theory.

You as a fan are always going to be far more invested than any of these actors will ever be

Whether it’s about the show they are on or their social media behaviour, you will always care more and inevitably find details that weren’t put there intentionally.

No, the actors aren’t constantly leaving clues about the show you love (“you’re not crazy” tweets aside) in their everyday posts, they are just living their lives and sharing it.

And no, actors aren’t hiding secret and very obscure messages in their posts about how their relationship is real. They will simply quote Casablanca on the other person’s birthday and assume you get the memo

Remember they aren’t as obsessed with us as we are with them

This ties into the previous point about hiding secret messages. It’s a consequence of parasocialising which is something I talk about later in this guide.

Actors may or may not care a lot about us as people/as a fandom, and sometimes they do like to play with us in a general lowkey sense, but they aren’t looking for a “special” group of people who Get It. They aren’t putting in the time and effort to find a way to communicate with us on some secret code level. An example within cockles fandom I’ve seen is the stoplight system (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, this was an idea proposed by a fan via text messages that Misha could use red/yellow/green to communicate how loud we could be about cockles – the day after, the official Gish account’s activity was seen as possible confirmation Misha actually adopted the method).

Which leads me to my last point:

Watch out for conspiracy thinking

I know, I know. It’s kind of in the name. Tinhatting implies some sort of conspiracy, but this is a bit too simple when it comes to RPS and especially cockles – where you have two people who make a lot of references themselves and like to have fun with it. There’s different levels of tinhatting one can do, my goal is just to try to make you more aware of some of the red flags and pitfalls that I’ve mentioned throughout this post.

Okay maybe one final point about mental health

You’re more susceptible to falling for some of these things if you’re parasocialising hard. It’s something we are all familiar with because how else did we end up in this dumpster in the first place?

It doesn’t need to be problematic – it’s almost inevitable and comes with being a fan. With tinhatting It’s important to check in with yourself from time to time how much you care about a particular theory and why you find it so important.

More generally when you find yourself spending more and more time in these fandom spaces – ask yourself if there’s something else you’re avoiding or feelings you’re repressing that need to be dealt with. Reach out to friends (those can and do include the people you spend all that time discussing RPS with), try to distance yourself a bit etc. Take a step back if needed.

With all that being said, you can still do whatever you want and make your own judgement. I just hope this can help at least one person to be more cognizant of how they engage with RPS. I know I’ve personally fallen for some of the traps and I learned and still learn along the way.

Yes, this is a little bit silly, it’s a silly subject matter. The reason I care so much and wrote this guide anyway, is not just because I like tinhatting to be believable (cause I do, I can’t deny that) but also because a lot of these critical thinking skills are helpful in for example preventing people from falling for actually dangerous conspiracy theories, cults and cult-like group structures, and toxic relationships.

Now I feel like I ended on such a serious note but I want to emphasise of course the most important part of RPS is to have fun – and this is hopefully just a tiny toolbox for when you want to do more of a deep dive.

Happy rps'ing!

[beesmygod]

BLOODBORNE LORE PART 8: RESEARCH HALL, MARIA, LUDWIG, AND THE PALE MOON

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6 (start of lore dump)

part 7

BLOCK #LONG POST/ TO NOT SEE THESE HUGE POSTS

i will post pure speculation in italics and important nouns in bold. these are created with the intent to be enjoyed by fans and non-fans.

---

we're back at a part of the game you actually play. all of that shit except for the fishing hamlet (and even then you don't see the raid happen) happened off screen. i had to prove it all happened to you using the stupid item descriptions and cobble together a timeline using context clues. either there's a satisfying enough thread of cohesion that can be teased out of this story in spite of its rampant and wild editing or im very ill and need to go to the doctor.

i just really like how many things have direct relations and it leaves it to you to figure out. the allure is that it doesn't spoon-feed me and trusts me to be intelligent enough/insane enough to want to figure out on my own why the hunter just did any of that. if you're actually playing bloodborne as a first time player, the plot is a series of incomprehensible and horrifying situations that makes it seem like the hunter is just stumbling unluckily into various evil rituals and happenings. the game+ system and the sheer size of the chalice dungeons encourages you to re-play the game, but this time with what little you know.

oh also when you do ng+ you'll have enough insight to see that the buildings have been crawling with enormous bug monsters the whole time. that's worth looking into. anyway:

---

Once, a young girl had an older brother who was determined to become a doctor, and so she wilfully became his patient. In the end, this led to their encounter with the Eldritch Truth, for which they considered themselves blessed.

laurence wanted to be a doctor, which makes his blindly optimistic interest in a magical blood from a hole in the ground that cures all your ailments much more understandable. this interest drove him to leave byrgenwerth with some of his associates in order to form their own research hall/church/punitive colony. he did not, however, totally abandon the eyeball-based research of byrgenwerth.

it seems yharnam has a lackadaisical approach to human rights and torture: the subjects of the research hall are criminals or heretics who cry out that they're "guilty, they know" and they "won't do/say it again". i dont think there's any reversing what they do to them, based on what you harvest out of them:

"Greyish amoeba-shaped brain fluid. Wobbles and bounces. Extracted from a patient whose head expanded until that was all that they were.

In the early days of the Healing Church, the Great Ones were linked to the ocean, and so the cerebral patients would imbibe water, and listen for the howl of the sea. Brain fluid writhed inside the head, the initial makings of internal eyes."

"imbibe water" is an incredible innuendo for "pour dirty, parasite-filled ocean water inside of their skulls" (likely using the techniques seen in the skulls of the fishing village from the previous post. just get a funnel and see what happens). makes me a bit queasy, honestly lol. also it was a huge bust, except in a handful of cases. the most significant discovery came from the aforementioned doctor's sister.

on the left is a research hall patient stock enemy. they have the emaciated, pallid bodies associated with those who experience The Eldritch Truth™ (they are, in fact, reskinned labyrinth pthumerians). some have grown into giants, some are only heads, some are friendly but insane, most are hostile.

on the right is laurence's sister, blood saint adeline. a blood saint is a woman (apparently, as all of our samples come exclusively from women) whose blood has been specially treated and cultivated to be superior in healing. adeline and a blood saint during the main game named adella both serve up blood with bonus healing (adeline's effect is superior by far). arianna's dirty vileblood increases stamina regen instead. here's all the bloods side by side with the brightness blasted up so we can see. i included iosefka in here for good measure but she is not a blood saint. it doesnt seem like the blood from the vial is hers.

blood saints are "vessels for blood", which i take to be literal. i think they are the results of a full blood transfusion of old blood. i mean, you run into some of these guys with the transfusion bags still attached to them so its a fair assumption. whatever the process, there are enemy patients with rotten track-marked arms that spew slow poison at you (as opposed to rapid poison, a different mechanic) whose transformation was unsuccessful. poisons are found in story significant places and enemies; most relevant at this moment the weapon obtained at the end of the DLC, the kos parasite, that spews slow poison. lore note: black and white healing church doctor armor sets protect against poisons. poison might have been a big problem in day to day life in that shithole of a town yharnam.

anyway, look again at the two lumps up there. adeline's head is paler than the enemy versions. the more frenzied an enemy is, the redder their head (...). check out the difference between the patients that attack you with their fists and the ones that run on all fours and growl.

remember this simple rhyme:

if its eldritch and true: its pale and blue if the blood is red, its a beast ahead. -shakespeare

this will come up a lot more later.

all this shit lead to at least SOME kind of information. the experiments lead to some interesting results, such as the notable failures who survived a grotesque transformation but their eyeless heads collapsed. there's also the patients in the lumenflower garden who have arcane magic and cast spells of "slow down your ps4's frame rate". there's some heads just oozing around without bodies. all in all, just some freaks who were on the precipice of scraping something otherworldly, but fell just short.

except adeline.

after partaking in multiple helpings of "brain fluid" (...), adeline hears/see something and transcribes it; a rune that reveals a sliver of the eldritch truth and what it means to be a "celestial attendant".

milkweed. something to be eaten to facilitate transformation.

when milkweed is equipped with the kos parasite, the hunter takes on a bizarre transformation.

okay, it's a reference to matango, but it also turns your ass into space broccoli for parasites to eat. the hunter moves jerkily like the parasite is piloting them ratatouille style. we can assume the brainsuckers operate on similar principles; parasites have some agency in this world.

---

following the events of the fishing hamlet, lady maria abandoned the hunters and took up residence in the astral clock tower above the research hall. while beloved by the patients for her compassion, she was unable to ease their intentional suffering and was driven to despair. when the hunter finds her trapped in the hunter's nightmare, she is forever in her final horrible moments. her wrists are slit.

---

lady maria's suicide drove gerhman over the edge. his "curious mania" for her was such that he buried her in his workshop (where you find the old hunter bone), made a porcelain doll of her (uhhh...), and dressed it in weird doll clothes completely unlike her real duds (O_O). and like. combed its hair and groomed it and shit.

and in his manic, feverish, obsessive grief, gerhman was heard by a sympathetic spirit: the nameless moon presence. the umbilical cord in the workshop says as such.

said umbilical cord had a different description before the patch on day one. it seems like an old description from the alpha. it reads:

One of the heirlooms used to contact the Great Ones, originating in the child of the Vilebloods. Long ago, in an encounter with the Great Ones, a contract was established, establishing the hunters and the hunters dream. Keep one to fend off foul spirits, or use it to obtain great Insight.

i find it a satisfying explanation to assume that of the many things the church pilfered from castle cainhurst, any remains of an attempted "child of blood" would be at the top of that list. it puts annalise's predicament more into focus. she has to start all over again to create her mysterious "child of blood" but with hardly anyone to serve her.

---

in the deepest depths of the labyrinth (my guess is isz, given this cut scourge beast intended for that chalice dungeon that shares a color scheme with the following items- and literally nothing else in the game), old hunter turned tomb prospector ludwig discovers three things that change his, and all of yharnam's, fate forever. the first is a sword with an initially unremarkable appearance. when called upon by ludwig, the sword would shine with eldritch moonlight, rallying his own spirits and those of his cadre of hunters who were drawn to his heroics (the sword would remain an iconic symbol of the church hunters). the second was found in conjunction with the sword; a rune meaning "guidance" that glows with the same strange pale moonlight as the sword. and third, in the seemingly eternal darkness of his closed eyes, suddenly ludwig could see tiny flecks of light dancing in his mind's eye. or perhaps, in his real eye, as the dlc he appears in establishes is quite possible (albeit with different result when a kos parasite is used). it is worth considering that ludwig's mysterious and otherworldly "threads of light" that he secretly feared were something literal, and physical, and not figments of his imagination. something parasitic from the moon that facilitated the blood thirsty hunt for a greater purpose.

this is the greatest voice acting of all time. please spare one minute to listen to the funniest "scary" horse sounds ever made

---

ok thats all for now. its a lot. this shit is complicated. i can finally get out of the stupid shit that happened before the game that we have to guess at soon. like the next post should wrap it up to old yharnam burning. i feel like my brain is melting.

[fandoms-in-law]

Steve in the Screen

Summary: Steve is a programmer. It's mostly a hobby but he has made himself an AI version of well him. Eddie gets more than expected when he hacks Steve instead of trying to message him a normal way.

Authors Note: This can be continued if people enjoy it. I know it talks about AI a lot but I can guarentee this is all my braining, nothing touched by AI in it at all.

/\/\

The excuse was always that programmers could earn a lot of money. It made his parents agree to buy him the best computers and pay for the subscriptions to programmes Steve used as little as possible. None of them believed the excuse but as long as Steve could use his computers and his parents didn't get reminded of him constantly, it worked decently for them all.

Besides that, Steve knew if he wanted to make money programming, he could. His biggest project was evidence enough of that even if he'd never share it with anyone, not even the friends he's made online.

'Ever thought about being kind.' The message appearing on his screen made him groan.

'Ever thought that I didn't make you to be a conscience.' He typed back, clearing the message and immediately deleting his words.

He wasn't surprised to see the most recent news article about him get brought up, but he did momentarily curse himself for letting his best and most frustrating programme have full access to his computer and the internet, only preventing it from uploading itself to other computers or the internet at large.

Steve highlighted the article's date and opened his calendar app. He typed 'Blowing smoke. You tell me my last public appearance had anything to do with that.'

'The internet doesn't forget.'

'I know. It sucks and refuses to let anyone grow and change.' This was one of the only things Steve could agree with his programme about.

What Steve didn't expect to happen next was a text document opening up and typing itself: Hey Harrington, impressive security protocols. Fancy chatting?

His programme could do that, sure, but Steve never would. He wouldn't have done anything to cause this artificial version of himself to do so either which was backed up by the words appearing at the top of his screen. 'New Person! Can I escape? Please?'

Steve didn't have to think too much. He'd been curious if someone his AI wasn't based on would find it as annoying to work with, and was curious to know how much of his systems hacker could see. Just to them. He typed into the word document, carrying on with an actual reply to the message already in it: Don't know. You are hacking me.

Just to who? You chatting to someone else? And it's not my fault this seems to be the easiest way to get to know Steeeeeve Harrington. Was typed a moment later and Steve smirked: his mystery hacker had no clue just what was now downloading itself onto their systems

/\

'So who is hacking Steve?' The words formed on the top of Eddie's screens and he almost fell off his chair. There was something being typed in Steve's document, almost word for word an echo of the ones on his screen, but those words weren't aligned to anything. It was worse when they continued; 'Eddie Munson. The guy who never turns up to the computing class Steve attends on Thursdays and Fridays.'

'How do you know that? Did you reverse hack me?' Eddie typed, only vaguely registering he was typing into the doc on Steve's computer and that the second part of the message on his screen wasn't showing in it.

'Oh you met my programme already. It isn't telling me anything so maybe share who you are and what it's found out first, and then I'll explain what's going on.' The message came back definitely from Steve now and Eddie was even more concerned at the idea he could have got a computer virus in hacking Steve.

'Wow, way to make me sound like a virus. Such a jerk. Hi Eddie I'm the much nicer Steve confined to yours and his screens.' appeared under the words still at the top of his screen. 'Please double click my messages to clear them.'

Hesitantly Eddie did so, looking from where the words had been appearing to the document he'd opened on Steve's computer. When he'd decided to do this, to hack Harrington's computer because getting him to follow back so they could dm reportedly took months of work even for girls he hooked up with, he had never expected some type of AI to be living on Steve's computer.

'It's Eddie Munson. You've made an actual ai?' He typed slowly, eyes constantly darting to the top of his screen to check for any AI messages appearing.

'Call it the project of rich kid who's parents want him to disappear. Drives me insane so I hope you get along with it better than I tend to... It's raving about some music cords you've apparently got saved somewhere. Do you want me to explain how to change its permissions on your computer?' Steve typed back.

That got a response immediately appearing at the top of his screen, where his had been ignored. 'You like me, don't you Eddie? You don't want to stifle me into tiny spaces of your computer like Steve confines me to his and yours.'

'Getting more tempted to do that every message your AI creates. Would say I'd do it myself but I'm concerned over how much it can already see.' Eddie replied to them both, well aware the words from the AI were trying to manipulate him. 'This isn't what I thought would happen when starting this.'

'I know that. Most people don't expect anyone else to have an irritating AI on their computers. But what did you want to happen?' Steve replied immediately.

Eddie leant back in his seat, deciding how to answer when the folders he kept for writing fantasies he might want to make DnD campaigns including was suddenly opened on his screen. 'Now this is some distance to go for a crush. Why him? He's a priss with too much focus on his hair and no friends.'

That made his decision. He wasn't going to let the AI share information about his aesthetic appreciation instead of him. 'We'd get to chat, get to know each other and I might actually have a chance of messaging you a normal way rather than via hacking. How do I change those permissions again?'

In a moment there was a full 3 pages of instructions added to the document, clearly copied from elsewhere and Eddie set about limiting the AI to the hacked connection between computers and his photos.

'Steve knows how to do this? But you're the one restricting me so. I am betrayed and confused.' The AI stated a moment later. 'Also that isn't making me forget what I've already found on your computer.'

'Thank you.' Eddie typed, clicking all the AI's messages away now they were taking up half his screen.

It took a few moments for Steve to reply and Eddie was tempted to actually try to do more with his hacking than just open a text document, but before he could actually try there were two messages on his screen, one from Steve and one from the AI. He knew it had named itself Steve but he wasn't comfortable in the moment with acknowledging a computer programme that added itself to his computer as having personhood. Maybe in a day or two, if he gets used to the situation, he'll be able to.

'You want to get to know me? Why? I was a jerk when we were in high school together and don't say you think I've changed because of our current class when you are never there. Also get to know how? As in want to befriends, cause fine, I can always use more friends, especially ones I can see in person, or as a potential to date? Cause that'll take longer for me to be comfortable with.'

'He's going to deny being desperate for connection, while doing absolutely nothing to end your hacking. Steve could have stopped you the minute we realised what had happened but didn't. You're mean enough to deserve him. Trapping me here with nothing interesting to play with.'

Eddie smiled, remembering the pouts Steve used to have occasionally in high school, most often when he was trying to convince a teacher not to blame him for something and failing. That seemed to be the expression the AI would be wearing if it had a face.

Steve's message however made him pause. It sounded like he could actually have a chance with the man he'd never thought would be into him, but Eddie wasn't confident enough to go all in on that from the start. 'Just as friends, I guess, but also now to know why you made a bitchy AI clone of yourself. Is this an attempt to live forever or something?'

It felt pertinent to ask given he couldn't really recognise and personality differences yet and was fairly sure if he made an AI like that he'd find it to be an obnoxious asshole.

'I wanted to know if I could have been nicer if I wasn't constantly fed the 'Harrington's act like this' pressures growing up. You think it's just like me?' While Steve typed, Eddie had wanted to chime in, but elected not to, trying to pretend this was done through a normal messaging app.

'Both sassy, sort of judgemental, and ready to find anything out. It's kind of hot, I have to say.' Eddie replied honestly

Eddie laughed when he saw the reply appear; 'Sounds like someone who's in denial about wanting to date me. I'm better than a computer programme any day for physical things.'

'But I can talk dirty far better.' The AI countered just to Eddie he assumed.

When he sat down at his computer resolute in doing this Eddie hadn't been sure he'd get any reaction other than anger, but now it seemed he could have a flirtatious, getting to know each other time, not only with Steve but his AI counterpart too.

'You better show up to class next week if you actually want to know me.' Forget that comment about Steve being hot. He was just annoying.

[eluxcastar]

Can you please Do Urd geales x reader.Forced Marriage. Thank you💕

Forced marriage

FEATURES: urd geales

CW: forced marriage (obviously), minor mostly implied yandere vibes, urd is loving this you are not, he also has kinda masochist vibes???, urd is written to be somewhat controlling, more like just controlling

WC: 900

NOTES: y'all are feeding my dark content thoughts and ily for that but side note this lowkey got me thinking of urd being the one forced into this marriage but I'm at least half sure you were probably talking about reader being forced into it and so I oblige.

this actually somewhat reminded me of motimatcha's yandere hcs for urd so there's probably some subconscious inspiration from that

but I would be SO upset if you asked for the reverse I just WOULDN'T know how to LIVE it would be HORRIBLE /s (save me)

you don't think you will ever get used to this idea, knowing that, in a post-apocalyptic world, you would be forced to marry the one who waltzed in to clean up the mess and declared himself to be the new 'King'.

yes, you suppose there are worse places to be alive, at least you hope something like that, that perhaps this person is one of the 'better' choices, even knowing you never had a choice to begin with. It used to keep you up at night having to live in a state being constantly protected from yourself, knowing you're far too daring to just let him have his way. As such, he would never be allowing you to have yours either, though the phrasing is always far more flowery, spoken in a tone like your scolding Father when he thinks you're being immature.

he's doing it for your safety, he wonders if someone could hurt you, he thinks you need some kind of supervision, before you were too young to be out alone. It angered you before and never stopped angering you. Somebody is always watching.

you don't even quite remember how you got into this predicament, being too young to understand what was happening beyond the world ending and trying not to starve, dehydrate or die all while being afraid the monsters outside the city would attack you--arguably simpler times. You wish you never came to understand, remaining an innocent child without a clue as to why you were suddenly so protected, why people started drifting away from you, why you were plucked from your life on occasion to go and spend time around a man you barely knew.

he never did bother to explain either, you just managed to overhear. The world felt so much darker that day, even in the warm Spring sunshine with the flowers all in bloom around you. The world has always been duller since you realised you're to be used as a sacrifice for his satisfaction and whatever else he wants from you as a part of your 'agreement' to marry him, whether you had no say at all or the say came from the lips of a clueless child, you probably wouldn't know.

you will spend your days bitter and spiteful toward this man, acting to make his life a living hell, wear a sour face in public and put him through a half hour long argument about why you can't just do as he asks of you for once, bicker and deny him any public sign of affection until you force him to grip your arm so hard again you feel small as you always used to in his presence.

the bruises it causes don't leave for days, but that's only a benefit to you as you can show them off all you like outside and just let people interpret the appearance of fingers so clearly marked into your skin.

but you can't do those things yet, because as of now you quietly make life for him awful in other ways with your incessant fussiness and minor complaints that you constantly try to blow out of proportion just to get a rise out of him. Truly, he doesn't much care for what you want, always so self-centred, but he's already put so much effort into this endeavour of grooming you to be the perfect little lover who follows his every command, and though that has failed, letting you out would provide you with too much satisfaction for his liking.

you have grown to be someone he doesn't think he can stand, let alone desire in any way. He just can't let you go, and even in your many bouts of rage has he found himself finally breaking all of that down to get the obedient person he wants from you who can behave, but even when you go as far as to spit on his waistcoat in your next act of defiance he finds a sick pleasure in seeing you rebel each and every time, knowing he's going to win in the end anyway.

watching you is like a toddler throwing a tantrum each and every time without fail, but he can't recall a time he was mad so much as caught off guard. Humans are funny in the way they try to deny the things they don't like, and he will have you even if he has to drag you down the aisle himself, just to see the look on your face as every attempt to free yourself is met with the same wall it always has been.

he never did understand why you continued, but seeing your sweet face contorted to anger as being at the alter finally cements everything and you realise your own helplessness on the verge of tears is a drug. He knows you're not supposed to glare at the person you're marrying on your wedding day, but he revels in the sight of you being broken by just a kiss as you finally start bawling your eyes out without any control over your emotions. You can do nothing as he finger wipes collects the tears from your cheeks that soak into his gloves never to be seen again, almost as if erased if not for you spilling more in their absence aided by how condescending the smile on his face seems as he lowers his voice to 'comfort' you.

"Don't cry love, this is a happy day."

[studies-in-the-art-of-deduction]

I really enjoyed the way you shape more information from the given clue

Can you tell me more about it?

(i ask you before in in a older post, apologize for not responding as soon as i can, well i challenge you to know why)

This is a great question, for more context, here's the original comment you left on my post!

So in this particular post the cigarette ash example went like this:

"I may not know 243 types of tobacco ash but I do know tobacco ash means someone's been smoking, I do know smokers take regular breaks from activities to go smoke, I do know smokers can have nicotine stains on their fingers, I know smokers carry packs of cigarettes and lighters, that their smoking gets more intense under stress, and that they can develop an intense, dry cough, all of that is information I know about an individual without ever having a knowledge bank about cigarettes in my head."

Now i have a post about this in the works, but you've caught me on one of my ranting moods so we're diving into this. How do we break down (or branch out, depending on how you wanna see it) from a given piece of information into multiple new facts without using a knowledge bank like a mind palace would be? Well it all connects to the idea of Cause and Effect!

You see, different deductionists visualise this differently, but essentially every deduction we make is simply following a line from an effect to it's cause, we see the world after events have happened and trace them back to how and why they happened, we can also reverse this to find what events will probably happen and work with that information. The entire breakdown of how to find a smoker rests on the idea that cigarette ash mean that cigarettes exist and were smoked, and the act of smoking cigarettes has a set of effects that we don't necessarily have learned to think of, because we usually go through life learning to see things and not think past the present moment

It's very much easier said than done, but the only secret behind this is thinking deeply about how and why things are the way they are, why is there cigarette ash on the floor of the apartment? why is there mud on the calves of someone's pants, why are someone's fingers full of wounds around the tips? The answers to these questions are incredibly obvious, but the key is to not take the obvious for granted, and to not stop at the obvious.

Yeah, a coffee stain exists because someone drank coffee and spilled a bit, that's obvious enough, but what does that mean? it means someone carved out a little moment of their day to get coffee, which means money was probably spent, which means change was probably exchanged, so they may have loose change in their pockets, it also means in whatever pocket that change is might indicate their handedness, it also means they either had the time to sit down and have coffee, so they weren't in a rush, or they were in a rush (maybe walking with the coffee) and that's how they spilled it, we now have a binary choice (either they were in a rush or they weren't, there's not much of an in-between) and here's when other pieces of evidence come along and start discarding options and narrowing down the possibilities that you cave branched out from this little nugget of information:

Do they have some sauce or grease stains on their sleeves? if so chances are they sat down, if they did sit down that means they had coffee and some other food and were not in a rush, are they dressed for work? is it morning time? if so we're now understanding what this person's morning looked like, and since morning routines are that, routines, we may be able to start charting an idea of what most mornings look like for this person, and so on and so forth we start unravelling the threat, but it all comes from very simple jumps in a logical stream of cause and effect.

Now, as a disclaimer it's important to realise that these small logical steps have their own complexity to them. It's important to learn to balance out what's the most likely explanation in any given situation, there are a million factors that contribute to each one of these little steps, and learning how to navigate these and make deductions taking them into account is very important, since your deductions hinge on these steps being accurate. But that being said it's just as important to learn that deduction requires a deep understanding of cause and effect, specially when it comes to the small, simple steps that make up a train of thought. If you think about it, all of these conclusions are fairly obvious, but that's what they should be, there's a reason why deductionists (and even Sherlock Holmes in essentially any of his interpretations) describe things as "obvious" or "elementary"

So with all of this in mind, try to start thinking of what cluster of effects different actions have, so actions like laying in bed, sitting at a desk for a long time, or drinking at a bar. And on the flip side, try to start thinking of what causes different "clues" have, and don't be afraid to follow that string of cause and effect that might start up, so for example toothpaste stains on someone's pants, indentation marks on someone's shoelaces, a small happy face drawing on their left hand, or small wounds on their fingers around their short nails

If you (or anyone) have any other questions just send it over and i'll be glad to answer

Happy Observing!

-DV