#I think my Star Trek energy is everyone does something at some point that I’m like ‘excuse me?’ and then I keep watching

[croc-odette]

I just think it’s wild this is the quarkfucker and garakfriend website but Pulaski has been on 30 years of discourse red alert

[eyrieofsynapses]

Redemption Panel Highlights and Reactions

GATORS

i.e., Beth Riesgraf and Christian Kane (mostly Beth) talking about filming the scenes in (what I presume is) The Rollin’ on the River Job, where they’re pulling some stuff out of the water, and finding out the next day that there was an absolutely massive alligator pulled out of the same place just a little while after they filmed it

Beth’s impression of the wildlife folks warning them about the alligators

Beth scaring the hell out of Noah Wyle by yelling “GATOR” at him just after he finished his scene

seriously that was an absolutely WILD part of the panel

Everyone showering Aleyse Shannon with literally all the love!

Aldis Hodge in particular big-brothering her, and also the older actors calling her out for not giving herself enough credit, and Dean Devlin talking about how she blew him away at the auditions with her ability to turn on a dime

Seeing Kane with his glasses off wiping at his eyes, momentarily thinking “you okay dude?” and then realizing that he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes

(same)

The The Bucket Job clip! I’ve been a bit meh on a lot of Redemption, just in how it didn’t feel quite right, but that is possibly the absolute closest I’ve seen it get to the original in the best way. Brilliant

Which comes as no surprise since BETH RIESGRAF directed the episode!!! And apparently put an insane amount of effort in!

Beth’s utter delight and joy at both directing the episode and having the crew behind her

THE CHAIR

So apparently she and Christian went to town on the fight scene and he winds up tied up in a chair somewhere along the line and there’s a whole wild scene, which I am really looking forward to

Beth knowing how insanely particular he’d be about things like zip ties vs rope and what kind of rope e.t.c. e.t.c.

Apparently this is also tied into a VERY DEEP scene with Eliot? It sounds like they’re going to go super hard on his backstory, which is terrifyingly exciting

Just. Beth and Christian going very hard on that episode together

Speaking of: the panel’s going amazingly, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts, things are relatively light, and then, of fucking course—

Kane hitting us over the head about Eliot being a mass murderer who can’t be redeemed, is trying to stay static so that he can maintain the place he’s in, and is thus LIVING VICARIOUSLY THROUGH HARRY

What the FUCK. This is of course incredibly insightful and perfectly on point (because it’s Kane) but also, EXCUSE ME, OUCH, why would you DO THAT to us?

Everyone talking about having their families on set and their kids!

Beth’s son growing up on the original Leverage set and now going into being a director himself!

Gina’s daughter also growing up on set!

Noah Wyle’s daughter is playing Harry’s daughter I REPEAT NOAH WYLE’S ACTUAL DAUGHTER IS PLAYING AS HARRY’S DAUGHTER

Gina Bellman remaining relatively stoic throughout much of the panel (seriously, this woman, how the heck does she do it) and then losing it when they’re asked about running/inside jokes

A lot of them are, of course, apparently not appropriate to be spoken on-panel

(A lot of the others are the little inside ones that are special enough not to be ones they want to share, which is sweet!)

Everyone collectively losing it over having LeVar Burton on for The Bucket Job

Devlin and everyone laughing about collecting the various Star Trek people on Leverage

Beth talking about Burton coming over while she’s getting ready and asking her if she’s living on coffee and water, her laughing because he was absolutely right, and then him gently reminding her to remember to eat, which is the sweetest thing in the world oh my gods

Kane apparently choreographing an intense scene with Burton and being scared out of his mind, because Burton really wanted to go for it, but to Kane it was like he’s a figurine that’s not to be messed with because he was so worried about hurting him

Kane choreographing a massive amount of the show, which I knew already, but seriously, this guy blows me away

Gina and the crew talking about how he’d be away for a day of shooting a fight and all of them would be missing him and thinking about him

Family Vibes

Everyone talking about how they’re very noisy and loud together on set and it’s a bit like walking into a group of people having Christmas dinner (or something to that effect) because they’re just Like That together

Aleyse being the most surprised by Beth when she met her because she was like a little angel of light during the auditions but turned out to be an absolute ball of wild energy on set

Gina going “wait you were a MODEL” at Beth

Aldis talking about how much he loved how Parker and Hardison’s relationship had developed and grown!

Also, Aldis apologizing when the New York (iirc) background noise got loud and everyone going “no no we get you”

His outfit is ON POINT today

Gina saying that Christian is the goofiest and wildest out of them in terms of humor

(she goes “some of you may not know this,” which, fair, but also, if you’ve seen more than ten minutes of this guy outside of character you know he’s an absolute ball of sunshine)

Gina, Beth, and Christian talking about how they’d challenge each other to stay off sweets back on the original set, because they knew they needed to stay in shape and also just because they’re competitive (apparently all of them are major sweet tooths) and hide brownies and things from each other, while Aldis is just. doing pushups. eating all the healthy stuff. and then wanders into the room with a literal cupful of chocolates

(and Aldis going “well yeah I have to work off the sweets SOMEHOW”)

Beth explaining that sometimes they’d order a “Kane burrito” from Christian and he’d alter it slightly

Like, you know, chopping up hot jalapenos super fine and mixing them in, and Beth practically not being able to talk after the first bite

Apparently Aldis still went back a lot even after that

(Christian just seems very pleased with himself over it)

(THESE PEOPLE)

Gina goes “hey we should have an episode where we all swap roles,” Devlin going “WAIT FOR SEASON ONE TO BE DONE,” and then somebody (maybe the moderator?? I don’t remember exactly) going “uh actually. We did that”

Cue immediate scramble of “WAIT WHICH JOB WAS THAT”

(paraphrasing) “Yeah you remember the bit where you put on Parker’s harness and went off a building?”

Turns out half the cast had actually forgotten that that existed and only remember when reminded

The original cast all think of the episodes as “jobs”!!!!

Everyone talking over each other, Devlin going “it was with Sterling when we blew up the offices,” deciding that it was the season one finale, and then trying to figure out what episode title it was (eventually they figure out it’s the David jobs)

Moderator and Devlin accurately commenting that the fans know the show much better than they do

Noah Wyle very correctly explaining how Electric Entertainment is like a family and Devlin just. Keeps people

Aleyse and Aldis talking about typing when they’re hacking and going “WHAT THE HECK DO WE TYPE”

Aldis goes “yeah I just type all the bad words that we’re not allowed to say”

Aleyse saying that she’s always a little worried they’re hiding a Word document behind the blue screen and they’re going to pull up what she’s typing at the end of the day and print it out and put it in her trailer going “what the HECK is this”

Noah talking about filming The Golf Job and just getting to direct Jason Marsters and Christian together

Apparently their dynamic in that episode accurately mirrors the one with their characters in Angel!

Which promptly goes straight to the comment that it was very hard to make Marsters look like a golfer (pfft)

(Also apparently Christian plays golf for fun with his friends? Not necessarily something I would’ve thought of!)

Aleyse happily talking about how she loved the dynamic on set and it was very different from what she was used to

Also Aleyse talking about doing stunts and everyone else praising her for going whole hog

Beth especially praising her for the bit where she’s hit with the paralysis injection (I don’t remember which ep it’s from) and her acting for it, because it was incredibly hard to drop off screen in the particular way she did

Aleyse promptly answers that she was terrified with some of those, especially one where she had to keep a clock from falling and breaking

Everyone discussing how they see a new aspect of Breanna’s character in The Train Job

Also, to get serious for a moment, Kate Rorick in particular talks about how Breanna’s part of Gen Z and how we didn’t get the “days of yore” where everything was chill. We’ve basically been living in a world of hostility the whole time. It’s something I deeply appreciate, as someone who’s part of that group, and I love how they emphasize that for us.

This panel was pure chaos and I loved every moment of it! My stomach was actually hurting from laughing so hard, I swear. They had me cackling well over half the time. I would happily take panels double or triple the length of this, this was amazing. I also adore how the second you drop these six people in a room together, they immediately take off and literally just run and give you everything you wanted and more. (It is also evidently very hard to get them to STOP talking.)

I’m also just going to stop and take a second to fawn over the effects for the 3D room. It’s gorgeous—I love how they replicated the headquarters, especially with the stained glass ceilings! Super impressive, especially with all the photos, and I just love the whole thing. Kudos to whoever put that together.

Anyway, I’m definitely missing some stuff too; seriously, there wasn’t a second wasted in this thing, they were cracking some kind of joke or dropping some really interesting piece of information practically every thirty seconds. (And I haven’t even gotten into the clips OR the bloopers. I miiiight do a separate reaction purely for those.) It’s still up right now if you missed it and you want to watch it! I’ll probably watch it again, honestly.

[notanotherreidgirl]

Lesson Plans

Summary: Spencer’s TA helps him organize his class all while developing a crush on him, little do they know that he feels the same way

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none? there’s some kissing

Word Count: 1434

A/N: I definitely need to go back and edit this one!! 

Dr. Spencer Reid was the most eccentric professor you ever had. 

He didn’t use any technology at all. Opting instead to handwrite his lesson plans on the blackboard in slanted chicken-scratch. He never got through his material anyway, easily getting caught up on tangents and explaining his own jokes. On the first day of class, he passed out an 8-page double-sided, single spaced syllabus. It was clear that he spent a lot of time on it but he had neglected to staple the pages together so no one walked out with more than 5 pages. Not that it really mattered, he barely followed the syllabus and half of it were recommendations for optional reading. 

The lecture hall was always full but for the people who weren’t auditing, the class was a bit of a mess. Despite the chaotic nature of the course, students kept signing up. How could they not? Dr. Reid was charming and effusive and he rounded everyone’s grades up to an A. When you took the class you were completely entranced by him but you couldn’t shake your frustration with the lack of organization. What was even worse was that most people just took his class for an easy A and hardly bothered learning most of the material. You couldn’t believe it - you had been dying to take Criminal Psychology and you poured your heart and soul into your assignments. When the end of the semester rolled around and TA applications opened, you applied without hesitation.

When Spencer saw that you had applied to be his TA, he very nearly hired you without reading any of the other applications. He refrained from referring to his obvious affection towards you as a crush - that epithet seemed too juvenile - but that’s exactly what it was. A giant schoolboy crush that had completely obliterated his ability to think. He had a tendency to ramble but it was exponentially worse this past semester with you sitting in the front row. 

It only took him one week to commit your routine to memory. Get to class 5 minutes early, sit in the front (5 seats from the left wall), drive him crazy for the whole lecture (chewing on pencil erasers and giving him small smiles when he made eye contact), have lunch at the cafe downstairs, then camp out at the library for a few hours. You were a fastidious creature, orderly and straightforward. It came through in your papers too. Well-constructed arguments that got to the point without unnecessary filler. He was embarrassed to admit that he made copies of your papers and reread them, taking note of your syntax and word choice. 

Your first order of business as his TA was to digitize his notes, taking pictures of the blackboard after class and making concise powerpoints that were sent out in friendly weekly emails. You also revamped his syllabus and held your own office hours since his were always well attended by adoring students who never seemed to ask questions about the course material. It was a lot of work but you could talk about the course material all day. You loved the class and you loved teaching your students which would’ve been just fine if you didn’t start to love something, or rather someone as well. 

The semester flew by and your feelings for Spencer only grew stronger with every day, with every evening you spent grading papers together, with every coffee wordlessly passed between you, with every lesson plan you outlined together. And now it was all coming to an end. You were standing in the doorway of his office making promises to stay in touch and thanking him for this experience while the voice in your head was practically begging you to say something. But you didn’t. What would you even say? How does one tell their boss that they are completely in love with them? What if he didn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. With these thoughts heavy on your mind, you finally turned to leave. 

“Wait, Y/N, I know what you did for me this semester.” Spencer realized that this was his last chance to say something, anything to let you know how he felt. His words came out in a rush, “I know that I’m not the best professor. I don’t follow the syllabus and my grading system is all over the place and I ramble. I’m even doing it now. I’m rambling. I know there are so many things I should change but -”

“No!” you immediately clamped a hand over your mouth but it was too late, your impassioned outburst had already escaped. To say you were mortified was the understatement of the century, you would have given anything to disappear right then. 

Spencer, on the other hand, was thoroughly amused. It was as if you stole all his anxious energy away. “What do you mean, no?”

“It’s nothing! I just - well, I just mean that you shouldn’t change anything. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Your eyes widened. How was it possible that every word out of your mouth made the situation exponentially worse? “Not perfect - no one’s perfect! I just mean that you're fine. Your class is fine!”

For a moment you recalled the transporters in Star Trek. Beam me up Scotty, you thought uselessly. 

Feeling exceptionally bold, Spencer pulled a chair up to his desk. “I think I know what you mean, darling. Why don’t you take a deep breath and have a seat?”

You had been considering making a run for it but your legs promptly turned to mush after he called you darling. He had pulled the chair to his side of the desk so you were sitting right in front of him less than 2 feet away. You were determined to get the situation under control so you took a deep breath before starting.

“Dr. Reid, I wouldn’t want you to change a single thing about your teaching style. I became your TA because I wanted other students to enjoy this class as much as I did. Everything I did this semester was so that you could keep teaching in the irregular, fun and inspiring way that you do. I didn’t mean to overstep and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I think you’re not a good professor. Because you’re not. It’s the opposite.”

After finishing you nervously looked up at his face expecting admonishment only to be met with pure adoration in his honeyed brown eyes. He reached into your lap and took your hands in his. You had expected the hands of an FBI agent to be hard, weathered from chasing down killers but his were soft and he held you so carefully like he was afraid you’d pull away. 

“Thank you” he whispered. He brought your hands to his lips and you had to press your feet into the ground to keep from floating away. “I wanted to say thank you for typing up comprehensible notes and replying to every email and making sure there’s always sugar by the coffee machine and listening to what I have to say and for letting me be myself”

Your breath hitched, you hadn’t realized that he’d noticed everything you’d been doing in the background. You squirmed in your seat, taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. Could he see right through you? 

“It’s really nothing, Dr. Reid” you murmured. 

“No, it's not,” he leaned in closer, so close you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you were sure he could hear the drumbeat of your heart. “Not everyone is willing to be patient with me and even fewer go out of their way to make things easier or better without trying to change who I am. I know I’m a difficult person but you don’t make me feel that way. I’m beyond lucky to have you.”

He paused before adding, “That is, if you’d have me?”

Whatever was left of your self-restraint disintegrated when you pressed your lips to his. You laughed into his mouth, joy bubbling from your lips and filling Spencer with an incredible warmth. He smiled and pulled you into his lap, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes” you punctuated each affirmation with a kiss to his nose, his cheeks, his temples. You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t difficult at all. That he was charming and capable and lovely but there would be plenty of time for that. For now, you held him tight and you didn’t have any intention of letting go.

[wisteria-lodge]

snake primary + snake secondary (bird model)

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I’m having a lot of confusion over my secondary, so a second opinion to help me untangle things would be lovely.

I’m pretty confident I’m a Snake with a Badger model that determines what I do when my people aren’t involved. Essentially, people are always important, but my people are most important to me. When push comes to shove I will protect them first (or feel worse about myself if I fail to).

So far, so good.

I think my secondary is at least a little burnt, in part because I’ve always struggled with interacting with people and don’t tend to think of myself as someone who’s capable of making an impact in people’s lives when it matters. I can remember several situations where I didn’t reach out to someone who needed my help, especially one of mine, because I was convinced that person would never want help from me. 

That’s proper burnt secondary talk. You knew what you wanted to do, you knew what would feel good to do, but you DIDN’T do it because you didn’t think it would work.

I know better than to do that now, and I’m trying to get better at believing in my own abilities (and the fact that other people can want me around). I’m hoping it’ll help to get a better idea of what those abilities even are.

You’re unBurning. Good.

I’ve thought ever since I first discovered this sorting system that I must be an improvisational secondary. I’ve never thought of myself as a fan of plans and prepwork - I get stressed out that I’ll forget important things and be left stranded. I remember back in high school when I was getting used to using public transport, my mum went with me to do a trial run of a route I needed to travel in advance. I was stressed enough about the event I was travelling to as it was, and the trail run made it so much worse, because there was so much to remember, what if I forgot something? What eventually made me feel more comfortable about it was trusting myself to figure it out on the day.

What a gorgeous way to explain the difference between a Built (prepwork) secondary and an Improvisational secondary. Trial runs make me feel so much better and so much more comfortable. And I’m a built secondary (and I bet your mom is too.)

Nowadays, when I’m travelling somewhere I’m unfamiliar with I’d much rather just leave half an hour early to give myself some breathing room in case I mess up.

Perfect. Excellent improvisational secondary problem solving.

Following strict schedules just trips me up too - say I’m doing classwork for the afternoon, for example, I need the freedom to be able to say that actually I’m more in the mood for Subject B than Subject A. I like having space to improvise, and I feel really proud of myself when I pull off something on the fly!

Once for a final exam in high school, we had to write an essay for The Lord of the Flies using a set of quotes from the text we’d chosen and memorised beforehand. The essay question was only revealed in the exam, and it turned out to be asking us to write an essay about one specific character - except I didn’t have enough quotes for any one character, I’d deliberately made them very spread out. What I did instead was to argue for the symbol of the Lord of the Flies as a character, and make each paragraph about each different character’s relationship to ‘him’ and what that relationship revealed about the characters, so I could make use of my range of quotes. I’m sure my writing wouldn‘t hold up now, I’ve gotten better at writing since then, but I still think of it as one of the essays I’m proudest of.

I would have given you an A. That sounds brilliant.

So that all seems to point to an improvisational secondary, but - reading about Rapid-Fire Birds has made me question whether that’s actually what I’m doing instead, and I have no idea how to tell. What‘s the difference between an improvisational secondary using information they already have to help them improvise, and a Rapid-Fire Bird doing the same thing? To what extent can Birds dislike relying on lists and planning?

You’re an Improvisational secondary. A pretty loud improvisational secondary (and almost certainly a Snake because you value the ability to pivot quickly so highly.) Rapid-fire birds can *look* like Snakes from the outside, but it’s a totally different internal experience. A rapid-fire bird might be comfortable improvising their bus route - but only in an area that they already know super well. Rapid-fire birds look like Snakes… as long as they are operating within their area of expertise, are coming from a place of strength.

And where does looking for more information while you solve a problem, rather than beforehand, fit within the secondaries?

Feeling more comfortable and confident looking *around* you while solving a problem (versus bringing in a bag of tricks at the start) is an Improvisational secondary thing.

When I’m involved in a debate about something that relies on a piece of information - a definition of a word, a statistic, some sort of other fact - I’m known as the person who’ll pull out my phone and say ’oh! I’ll Google it!’.

This might be a Bird [model] thing, but I’m inclined to think it’s just a person thing.

(Sometimes people don’t seem to get why I do that - they’ll say it looks like I’m taking things too seriously when it’s just a silly discussion for fun? But it just makes sense to me, we need information and that information is easily in reach, why shouldn’t I go get it, silly conversation or not?)

Okay, scratch that, I actually think this is a generational thing. *Baby Boomers* get annoyed at me when I do this.

I’m the same way when I research for writing. I don‘t tend to go looking for specific resources when I don’t have a story on them planned, but I love digging into specific subjects and resources and systems to ground a story in, once I have a concept to work with and I know what could be useful. 

I love digging into complex systems in general, really (hello, sorting hat chats!). But it’s not like I do it because I think it’ll be useful later - unless I know it will be, because it’s relevant to a problem I’ve already been presented with. And I know just having nerdy interests does not a true Bird make.

I think you probably have a fun Bird model.

But if I’m not a Bird - or if it’s only a model - which improvisational secondary do I even have? I’ve always figured Lion seems more likely, because I’ve never related to the ‘silver-tongued’ skill of Snakes.

I wonder if you relate at all to the idea of single-player snake - constantly pivoting, using their environment, problem solving on the fly. I think of Scotty from Star Trek - someone I would never describe as silver-tongued, and who’s happy being solitary. But he still problem solves the way a Snake does.

I do tend to be pretty stubborn and dig my heels in when I’m challenged, in a quiet sort of way. But the difference between charging or swerving when you head for something has always seemed hard to grasp, for me. When you’ve got something to go for, you just… go, and some obstacles can be barged through and some you can’t, so you try and then go around.

I actually think that’s a very Snake way of putting things. A Lion would say that you *can* punch though everything, given enough will power and enough time. It’s what makes their energy so intoxicating, and where a lot of their power and trustworthiness comes from. They keep at something until they fail.

(oh and also ~ I have noticed that generally, Lion secondaries make no sense to Snake secondaries and vice versa.)

I do relate more to a Lion’s interacting with everyone mostly the same - with ‘varying degrees of awkwardness’, as I think another asker phrased it - rather than creating masks for everyone on the fly. But I’m not sure anymore if that’s powerful for me or if it’s just… all I can do. This goes back to being burnt socially, I think - I feel like I‘m working with nothing at all when I talk to people.

Whatever secondary I’ve got, I don’t think I’m capable of using its ‘multiplayer’ skills very well. Or at least, I haven’t learnt to yet, and I feel like I‘ve gotten worse. Although, more than a year of not being able to talk to most people in person hasn’t helped.

Yeah, you and me both. You’re a little burned about this, which makes sorting hard. You might just be a Snake who… isn’t very social.

And as for Lions valuing authenticity… I do and I don’t? I’m not sure if that’s just because I’m a private person and I don’t like exposing all of myself and my interests and opinions, it makes me feel vulnerable.

I know it sounds crazy, but if you were a Lion, that would make you feel strong.

But I won’t lie about myself if someone asks about something I’m not willing to share, I’ll usually find something that’s still true and answers their question but’s less personal. To what extend do Lions do that? 

Generally, “I don’t owe strangers the real me” is just… not something Lions secondaries think. Sometimes they lower their intensity. But they are unusual because they feel best and strongest when they put themselves out there.

But I also think that any ‘mask’ you create is still, to a great extent, a part of you and a reflection of who you are. People talk about it like you have a ‘core’ that is completely you and then a performance you make on top is automatically ‘fake’. That doesn’t make sense to me.

That’s because you’re a Snake. If you were a Lion, you would relate more to this idea of an ideal presentational “core.”

Performances can be helpful to express yourself, in a sense. And everything you make is self-portrait.

That is an incredibly Snake thing to say. Also, Snakes have a tendency to conceptualize their masks as “art.”

In any case - I hope this wasn‘t too long. Thank you for helping me sort through all of this!

You are very welcome. I thought this one was really interesting.

[airplanned]

Zelda Trill AU part 3!

It’s absolutely shocking that I’ve never written anything involving Star Trek.  SHOCKING.

So this was really fun and useless.  Enjoy!

***

Part 1

After his unpleasant time in Hylia's presence and his turning down an away mission and his mild sinus infection, Link was very much looking forward to spending some time with people who liked him and appreciated him and weren't about to spread rumors that he was untrustworthy or...or...

She wouldn't say anything about the actual mistakes he'd made.  She couldn't with implicating herself too.  If she took him down, he'd take her down with him.  But it was the things that he hadn't done that concerned him.  She was not above lying.

And he couldn't stop thinking abut her.  Not just Zelda, with her flashing hair and flashing eyes.  But hauntings of Tetra.  Of Sheik.

He'd made the mistake of reconnecting with her once.  He wasn't going to make that same mistake again.  He'd seen how it turns out, how inevitably after too long, people turn on each other.

He needed to spend some time with his short-term friends.  Friends who knew only Link and could pull him out of his own history.

He wasn't the last to arrive at Ruto's quarters for her weekly card game.  Most of his friends were endearingly bad at cards.  He half suspected that they enjoyed losing.  Otherwise they'd find something else to do together.

"Liiiink!" Ruto called.  "You made it!  I was worried, because heard you weren't feeling well."

He flopped into a chair between Yunobo and Russel.  "I've had the worst day.  I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Ruto preened.  Yunobo gave him a concerned look.  "We're all having...what's this again?"

"Andorian barley ale," Groose said, holding up his mug.  In addition to trying out card games every week, the group tried out "drinks from around the galaxy."

"Yeah, that," Yunobo said.  "But we can get you some tea if you want."

Link grinned.  See?  Best friends.

The door chimed and Ruto straightened.  "Oh!  Since Malon couldn't come, I invited the new girl.  Come in!"

Link's blood froze.

And there she was.  All the memories hitting him again like a hammer.

So maybe they weren't the best friends after all.

"Zelda!  You made it!  This is Groose, Yunobo, Link, and Russel.  Everyone, this is Zelda."

There was a chorus of "Hey, Zelda," and she flashed a brilliant smile at them all.  Her eyes met Link's briefly, then swept away without even the slightest hint of  reaction.  Groose popped out of his seat to pull out her chair for her, like a smitten gentleman, and Link thought he might throw up at the lovestruck look on his friend's face.  "Thank you all so much for inviting me."  She beamed up at Groose, and the guy's ears turned red with pleasure.  When he took his seat, he scooted it closer to hers.

Link would have to pull him aside later and make up something horrendous about hooking up with Trills.  Would Groose believe they had spikes?

"I'm actually feeling pretty bad," Link said, half way out of his chair.  "I think I should--"

"You do not feel bad.  You're just shy," Ruto said.  "This is why I didn't tell you a new person was coming."

Rude.

"Anyway, we're playing a game called Ben'tick and we need six people."

Ben'tick.  Of course.

Yunobo slipped a mug of tea in front of him and Russel grabbed his shoulder, pressing him back into his seat.

Zelda sat directly across from him.  Which meant they were going to be partners. 

"Excuse Link.  He's shy."

"You're both Trill," Groose said.  "Do you know each other?"

"There actually is a whole planet full of us," she teased.  Her half smile made his heart hurt.  "We don't all know each other."

"Oh.  Right.  Sorry."

That lie wasn't going to last, especially after their scene in the commander's office.  But he did appreciate it for the moment.  They could pretend they didn't know each other.  He could do that.

Goorse asked, "Have you played before?"

"No.  You'll have to teach me."

Link was ignoring her, so he didn't roll his eyes.  Tetra Hylia was a fiend at Ben'tick.  She'd taught him.  Her eyes caught his again, and her fingernail tapped twice against the table.  Shut up.

"Of course we'll teach you!" Groose said.  He stretched an arm over her chair to lean in and run through the rules.  Her eyebrows puckered in confusion, and she asked a series of simplistic questions.

Tetra would roll into a bar on the outskirts, and flop down into a seat at the highest rolling table, announcing that she was the best player in the quadrant, and proceed to take everyone's currency without a shred of guilt.  Zelda, it seemed, was ready to con everyone.  Not surprising considering Hylia was a champion liar.  Not surprising considering Zelda had a level of innocent cuteness that Tetra couldn't have pulled off.  She held up her hand of cards to show Groose and bated her eyes with her lips slightly parted.

"She'll figure it out as we go," Link said.

"Link's going to be your partner," Ruto explained, gathering up the card to shuffle them.  "Don't worry.  You're in good hands."

"It is good to have a partner you can rely on," she said.  Only Link picked up on the edge in her voice.

"He's good at this game."  Ruto grinned at him.  "If you need it, he'll carry you through.  And he'll kick you if you make a mistake."

That was a good idea.  He aimed a swift kick at her shin.

And missed.  "Ow!" Groose barked.  He glared at Link and retreated to his own seat, pretending that he was pulling in his arms to collect his hand of cards.

Zelda lifted her eyes over her fanned hand and smirked.  He was not going to survive the night.

She folded up her cards and tapped them twice against the table as if neatening them--A signal from a hundred years ago that she had four face cards.

Link sighed.  There was nothing for it.  He found a low number to throw out, letting her take the first hand.

#

Ruto threw down her hand.  "Okay, we have to have a rule where the Trills aren't on a team."

Yunobo said, "Don't the symbionts communicate with an electromagnetic disturbance?  I think they're talking to each other."

"No, it's the tapping," said Russel.  "We always thought the way Link tapped his cards was a tick.  But she does it too.  They're signalling each other."

"No way!" Groose said.  "Zelda would have to have played this before to know any signals."

Everyone groaned.  Ruto rubbed her temple.  "She has played this before.  She's hustling you!"

Groose snapped around to give her a betrayed look. 

She gave him a sympathetic look.  "Link was carrying me most of the time."  Then she gathered all the chips in the pot and pulled them towards her.

"I'm on shift at 0700 tomorrow," Russel said.  "I should get going." 

That effectively ended the night, and as much as Link tried to delay leaving so her wouldn't have to walk with her, Groose unfortunately noticed and shouted after him, "Hey, Fi, you making a move on Ruto?"

The dangers of Ruto thinking that was true outweighed a brief walk in the hallway, so off he went, following awkwardly behind Groose and Zelda as they discussed his recent shore leave.  He went mountain climbing.  Link knew he fell, but Groose made no mention of that.

"I'm down that way," Groose said, pointing down a corridor away from the turbo lift.  "If you wanna..."

Link would have been better off if he'd left Ruto's claiming he'd needed to be somewhere else, headed to the opposite end of the ship.

Zelda laughed.  "No thank you, but that was a good try."

Groose beamed and gave her a thumbs up.

Link didn't have much choice but to fall into step beside her to the turbolift.

"You don't talk a lot, do you?" she said.  The edge in her voice was back, but not nearly as sharp.

"Leave Groose alone," he said.

"Why?  Are you jealous?"  The turbolift arrived and they both stepped aboard.  "Deck 7."

"Deck 5.  He'd not the brightest, but hes my friend, and I don't want him to get hurt."

"Because I'll murder him?  That's really the story you're sticking with?"

Link clenched his teeth.

"Look," she said.  "I didn't pick this assignment.  If I had a choice, I'd stay as far away from you as possible.  But I don't have a choice, and neither do you.  So are we going to make this work and ignore each other like professionals, or are you going to be broody and impossible forever?"

He turned on her.  "This ship is my home.  If you put a toe out of line, if you put anyone here in danger, if you do anything suspicious at all--"

"As if you wouldn't put this ship with everyone you claim to love onboard on course to fly straight into a star while you escape in a shuttle craft like the coward you are--"

The turbolift jerked and shuddered.  The lights flickered, and suddenly they were falling two floors, three.  They grabbed for each other's elbows as the emergency locks activated, hauling them to a stop with a sickening lurch.  For a moment the lights were off, the hum of the ship silent around them, and there was only the harsh sound of her breath and the fierce grip of her fingers on his arms.  The emergency lights came on, low and red, and they straightened away from each other, instantly on alert.

"We've fallen out of warp," she said.

"Fi to ops...Revali come in."

"Hylia to engineering."

"Fi to the bridge...Emergency override: doors open."

The doors did not open.  Zelda tapped at the dark console, before shaking her head and popping it open, immediately pushing her hands into the wires.  "Power's out.  Let me release the door locks."

There was a hiss, and Link crammed his fingertips into the slit between the doors, gritting his teeth and prying them apart.  The floor of Deck 8 was visible about a meter above the floor of the turbo lift.  The hallway was lit with emergency lighting as well.  Link shook out his hands and then cupped them, offering her a foothold and then hefting her up and out.  He hauled himself up after her and went straight to the console on the wall.

"Main power is down.  Some sort of energy spike."  He tapped away as she eased closer to watch over his shoulder.  She was so close that it pricked his neck.  "Propulsion is down.  Engines are running on auxiliary power.  Life support is functioning off the backup systems. And I can't reach anyone."

"What about comms?"

He shook his head.  "I don't know.  They're running on auxiliary power, so they should be functioning.  This is Lt. Fi to all hands."  They both stared vaguely at the floor, waiting for a response.  Link shook his head,  "Why can't we reach anyone?"

"A localized dampening field?"

"Maybe.  I need to get to the bridge."

"Preferably quickly."

"Yeah." He nodded.  "Let's go."

Part 4

[procrastinatorproject]

Fic writer review, thank you to @thelaithlyworm  for the tag <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Ten? Oh no, it’s actualy 12 now!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

86,468

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Grand total of 1: Star Trek: Picard - although my latest offering might branch a bit into other Trek as well.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

“Passengers”

“And a Barrel of Gagh”

“CMO’s Log”

“Preparations”

“Game Night”

Which is actually kinda interesting. I wrote Passengers, Preparations, and Game Night while the fandom was still a lot more active (especially in the Aramis in Space corner), so that makes sense. The CMO’s log has had chapters added every few months, giving it probably the most exposure of any of my fics. Barrel of Gagh, though? I think I’m gonna attribute that to Thimblerig turning it into a truly, TRULY brilliant piece of podfic. Also the fact that it’s whump involving a character played by Santiago Cabrera. ‘tis A Thing..... :D

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! I love talking with people in the comments and just... thanking the people who found the time and energy to leave comments. But especially in the last few months I have gotten very bad at keeping up with the comments and now there’s about two dozen that I have neglected to reply to for a painfully long time 🙈

But I will get there! Because I love that kind of interaction!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

So far, none of them have had angsty endings. Angsty middles, yes, but not endings. I’m just a sucker for everyone being happy in the end. Or at least on the way to being better, and supported and cared for on that way.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t yet, but I’m definitely not opposed. One of the threads of my 200k unpublishable whump scenes takes place in a continuity that has existed in my daydreams for... I wanna say six years at the very least, probably longer. It’s mostly straight-up Star Trek, but with the twist that it involves the Wraith, the telepathic, hive-minded alien race from Stargate: Atlantis that suck the life force out of you with their hands? Or, well, at least a variation thereof.

I once typed up the world building for that particular setting and it took me three hours to try and make it all make sense. So it’s... involved. But not necessarily “crazy”. And I’m not sure I’m ever actually going to publish any of the stories I have set in it (not least because that would envolve finishing any of them and bringing them into a form that is interesting to read for anyone but me...)

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Hm, not yet. I do enjoy reading smut, but only under very specific circumstances. I think I may eventually try my hand at smut, but the inner prude is still very strong. Writing about Rios and Xyr making out (which, honestly, was really tame, all things considered) made me melt in a puddle of blushing embarrassment, so full-on smut is probably beyond me at the moment. One day!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Though litigating that in a fandom like ours would be... tricky. ST:Pic is way too small to steal stories outright. But similar or the same ideas pop up all the time. And it’s a complete coincidence. Reading the book that recently came out and that has a kinda similar setting to a lot of my stories (pre-season 1, early in Rios’s history as captain of Sirena, dealing with original characters, holo shenanigans, friendship with Raffi, etc.), I was struck by just how many elements, both scenes or story beats and little details, were similar to things that have cropped up in my writing. And it is entirely coincidental, because I am beyond certain that the author doesn’t read fanfic. Just... for legal reasons. Not to mention I wrote a bunch of the things I saw parallels to while the book was already in production, and some of them are only in my drafts.

So there is a ton of convergent evolution going on in this particular section of the fandom, and trying to litigate who came up with certain plot ideas or character beats when would be a sysiphean disaster. Some things are clear and whenever I use any of them I give credit where I can, but people will have very similar ideas. It just happens. So no, I haven’t had either a full-on story or “an idea” stolen, and I might change my tune if it ever does happen, but so far, I’m trying to practice equanimity, so I’ll be better at it should I ever need it.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Sadly no. My dad keeps complaining that all my fic is in English so he can’t read any of it, but honestly? I’m kinda glad for this very convenient excuse. Maybe if I ever feel like I want to practice my interpreting skills, I will give translating the stories into German a shot. We’ll see. Otherwise, if anyone feels inspired: Have at it! Just let me know, okay?

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not quite. I have a draft of off-the-cuff worldbuilding that I wrote on Discord with @curator-on-ao3 and that I would love to turn into an actual short fic (letters from a conference on holo-ethics), but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

I don’t really do shipping.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I WILL NEVER ACCEPT DEFEAT!!!! One day, I will write the next installment of Star Trek: La Sirena! I have so many ideas for that continuity and those characters. I’m not going to abandon them!

what are your writing strengths?

Hmmmmm. Probably detailed worldbuilding? Ask me something about, say, a technological or cultural aspect of Star Trek and chances are, I have thought about it in the past or will come up with three different sets of intricate lore within half an hour. (Things like... the architecture of San Francisco, or Will there still be taxi drivers? or the treaty between IKEA Intergalactic and the Borg Collective, or the Universal Translator, or Emergency Services or Why There Are Very Few Ambulances On Earth Anymore etceterah etceterah...)

I’m also good at slapping together off-the-cuff plot ideas (if, say, you need an explanation for how Seven and Agnes ended up stranded on a desert island, I could probably give you three different scenarios pretty quickly. Just don’t ask me to make them poignant or actually write them.

I’m also very, very good at beginnings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Everything that isn’t a beginning. Especially endings, or rather: finishing something, but also just... keeping momentum.

I think my dialogue is somewhat samey and not distinct enough between characters. (Also my witty banter is... let’s just say it doesn’t come to me naturally...)

And I also struggle with keeping things brief and to the point. I can write you 30k of whump covering a span of three hours, but fitting a whole story in the same space? Much more difficult!

I have also avoided writing full-on action so far, but where it has crept in it has always been a struggle and been workshopped a lot with the indefatigable beta.

Otherwise, I don’t know. My self-perception is always a little warped, so I’m not sure what other people would say my weaknesses are.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Oof. Well. I have used Spanish sentences in my fic and done the thing where they’re translated in the end note, but I’ve mostly done it sparingly. I’ve also done the ‘“What do you want?” he said in Spanish.’ It’s tricky. But I will likely keep doing it in some instances, even if it’s a bit annoying.

(It also really helps to have a native speaker of Spanish as a beta, even if it’s Spanish from a different region than you’re character.)

Speaking of regional: I’m also torn about the whole “phonetically writing out accents” issue. Some people love it, some people hate it, I’m really unsure because I’m not a native speaker of English, so I’m not even sure I’m consistent in my narrative voice’s regional quirks. So far, I’ve mostly gone with describing that an accent is happening, and only writing out when phrasing actually differs from standard English. Like Ian (Scottish) saying “dinnae” but not writing “I” as “ah” as you’d see on, say, Scottish twitter.

Though it can be a very useful tool if, for instance, you want to indicate a characters accent getting stronger as they get tired or upset. 🧐

Anyway, I don’t think there is one right or wrong answer here and everyones milage will vary.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? ST:PIC

Actually first? Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Pretty much simultaneously, though I did write more for LotR. On graph paper, mind, with my fountain pen turned upside down so I could write smaller. I still have folders worth of those stories that I urgently need to digitize before they fade and I lose them forever...

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’m going to quote @thelaithlyworm here: I Love All My Children Equally! I honestly couldn’t say. They are different and I love them for different reasons but I love them all.

Thank you for the tag! ❤ I’ve kinda lost track of who all has done this already or has already been tagged, so feel free to ignore me! But I tink I’m tagging @curator-on-ao3, @aini-nufire, @29-pieces, @flowers-creativity, @highfunctioningflailgirl, @cristobalrios and @the-goofball. And anyone else whom I forgot or who feels inspired to do this!

[typical-simplelove]

All the Way Across the World - 40s AU (J. Markstrom)

Summary: Jacob wasn't looking for love while he was in England fighting the war. However, he wasn't expecting for Lily Stratton to come in and change that.

Series Masterlist

A/n: Here is the first part! This one is the same universe as the Matthew Tkachuk part that is linked in the series masterlist. Also, I want to thank @glassdanse for sharing their stories with me and allowing me to incorporate them into this series. Thank you so much for your help with this! Enjoy reading!

Warnings: mentions of war, death, and fighting; everyone on the Calgary Flames for this is Canadian (this is what worked for everything to flow)

Word Count: 9.3k

Taglist: @boqvistsbabe @goalision @rmaye @mellany1997 @beauvibaby @heatherawoowoo @petey-patty @barzal-burakovsky @coffee-ontherocks @heaveniish @glassdanse @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @tkapuckit @heybarzy @stars-canucks @2manytabsopen (Do you want to be tagged in my fics? Fill out this form.)

May 26, 1940

The loud dancing music coming out of the Red Cross building on the base that Jacob was at was a calming welcome. After a ten-day boot camp trekking through the English countryside, being back in London was a nice sight. Jacob didn’t often opt to spend his nights off with his friends in the Red Cross building; however, Elias wanted to introduce Jacob and some of the other boys to the girl he’s been seeing. Rumor has it that Elias is going to propose soon. Jacob walked into the Red Cross building and immediately sighed. Loud music and drunk soldiers was not what Jacob wanted to do during his free time. He understood the idea and thought behind the Red Cross women setting this up each Friday night. That doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.

“Please, be nice,” Elias pleads to Jacob. “Don’t be this mopey version of yourself, please?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacob grumbles.

“No, I agree, you’re unusually grumpy,” Matthew interjects. What was it with Jacob’s friends and their need to point out Jacob's mood? Don’t they understand that they are fighting a war? All he wanted to do with his time was find a girl to love and marry and go live in a house on a lake. Isn’t that the dream? This war threw everything out the window.

“Fine, I’ll try to be less grumpy, but I’m not taking care of you when you’re drunk later,” Jacob relents. His friends cheer around him at Jacob’s admission and a drink is thrown into Jacob’s hand. That was quick. Jacob follows his friends as they find a table to sit at, and Elias goes over to find Annica.

Some of the boys are looking around trying to find a girl who will want to dance with them. Jacob isn’t doing that. War isn’t a time to find someone to fall in love with. During wartime, Jacob is going to put his energy into fighting this war and ending it as soon as possible. The sooner that it’s over, the sooner that Jacob can go home and live the life he was working for.

“Everyone, this is Annica,” Elias says as he motions to a girl who is holding onto his hand. “Annica, everyone.”

Some of the boys wave and others say hi. Elias found a pretty girl who definitely is crazy about him. Introductions are made and small conversation happens.

“I actually have to go back to work; I don’t think Lily thought I’d be this long,” Annica says. She kisses Elias on the cheek and heads back to the kitchen.

“She’s great, right?” Elias says as he watches Annica walk away. “I think I’m going to marry her.”

“That’s great for you,” Jacob says. He tried to sound chipper and happy, but it was hard when he was in an atmosphere he didn’t want to be in.

“Don’t do this, Jacob, you promised that you wouldn’t be grumpy.”

“Then maybe I should just leave.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jacob sighs. “I’m going to go outside for a moment.” Jacob places his drink on the table that he hasn’t taken a single sip out of and crosses the room to head outside. He opens the door, and his entire attitude makes a positive turn as he heads breaths in the air.

After a few minutes of standing outside, Jacob hears some commotion about twenty feet away. He turns and looks; he sees a woman in a Red Cross uniform pouring some liquid out of a giant pot. He watches her struggle and decides to go over and help.

“Do you need some help, miss?” Jacob asks and startles the woman. She jumps and the pot lands on the ground resulting in the liquid to spill.

“Well, I guess that completes what I was trying to do,” she says with amusement.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Jacob apologizes. He looks downs at the woman and notices her shoulder length black hair that was pulled back into an intricate updo.

“Oh, don’t worry. The damage was more of you frightening me than anything else.”

“Again, my sincerest apologies, Ms.; I’m not quite sure what to call you.”

“Stratton, Ms. Lily Stratton of the Canadian Red Cross. And you are?”

“Second Lieutenant Jacob Markstrom.”

“Well, Lieutenant, thank you so much for making this part of my job easier.”

“Dumping out whatever that liquid was?”

Lily laughs. “Yeah, that’s always the hardest part. It’s heavy and I don’t have the most strong arms in the world. I doubt you can relate to that.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Ms. Stratton,” Jacob asks confused.

Lily laughs, and Jacob feels a blush creep onto his face. “How tall are you, Lieutenant? Actually, it doesn't matter. You’re tall. What I mean is, I doubt that holding heavy things is a difficulty for you, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, no, definitely not, Ms. Stratton.”

Lily giggles, and Jacob determines that it’s the best noise he’s ever heard. “Well, Lieutenant Markstrom, I have to get back to serving you and your fellow soldiers. It was nice to meet you; I hope to see you around.”

“The same here, Ms. Stratton.”

Lily takes one last glance at Jacob and walks back into the kitchen. There was something about Jacob, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

. . .

“Who was that man you were talking to yesterday, Lily?” Annica asks when Lily walks into the kitchen the next morning.

Lily slightly blushes and pretends to busy herself with cleaning the dishes.

“Oh, so you’re not going to tell me about him, then?” Annica teases. When Lily doesn’t respond, Annica only prods further. “You know, I could tell that he was extremely tall. Maybe I should just walk up to each tall man on the base and ask if they talked to you yesterday.”

Lily gasps. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. Unless…”

“Unless, what?”

“Unless, Lily, you tell me his name. It’s about time that you find a romantic partner.”

“Firstly, I don’t need to have a romantic partner, so hush! Secondly, his name is Lieutenant Jacob Markstrom.”

“Oh, Lieutenant Markstrom? He’s friends with Elias.”

“Of course he is,” you joke.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annica asks, confused.

“No, nothing mean, I promise. It just means that the one man I find attractive and talk to also happens to be friends with your boyfriend, or soon to be fiance. This means that you can badger him and me until one of us makes a move. This, however, doesn’t mean he finds me attractive or wants to go out with me.”

“Who are we talking about?” Elias asks as he walks into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around Annica from the back and kisses her cheek.

“Your friend, Jacob,” Annica answers.

“Oh? What about him?”

“Nothing, other than the fact that Lily here talked to him and finds him attractive.”

“Oh?” Elias asks amusingly.

“Can we not?” Lily pleads. “This doesn’t mean anything and it was one conversation.”

“You were the girl that Jacob was talking to because let me tell you, he came back from being outside in a happy mood,” Elias adds.

“What does that even mean?”

“He doesn’t like loud party atmospheres. However, he was in a better mood and didn’t mind the atmosphere after talking to you.”

Lily just stares at Elias and looks to Annica for help.

“It means he likes you or at least enjoys your company, Lily,” Annica clarifies.

“Oh, oh!” Lily says. “Wait, don’t. Again, this doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re right, it might not mean anything, but you could make it mean something.”

“Oh, be quiet, Annica. Can’t we just change the topic, now? We have to have the donuts made for the pilots who come back from their flights in a few hours.”

“Sure, but this doesn’t mean we’re done with this conversation,” Annica relents. She turns to say goodbye to Elias, and Lily turns away. It was nice to see them so in love; she couldn’t wait until they got married one day.

. . .

The following week, Lily was put to work in the kitchen. She was told to have dinner readily available to be filled. Lily didn’t particularly hate this job; however, she wanted to see Jacob again. She wanted to see him and talk to him. She doubted there would be any natural way for her to see Jacob or for him to see her. Oh well, right?

Lily was beginning to peel the next batch of potatoes when the door to the kitchen opened. Believing it was just one of the Red Cross women, Lily didn’t look up. “You can leave the tray on the table in the middle.”

“Well, I don’t have any trays to give you, so I’ll just sit on this stool,” the person who enters says.

Lily lifts her head and turns to the person talking. “Lieutenant Markstrom, what are you doing here?”

“Do you not want to see me? I’m offended.”

Lily smiles. “This isn’t where the other soldiers hangout on Friday evenings.”

“What if this is where I want to be?” Jacob flirts.

Lily raises her eyebrows. “Oh, is that so, Lieutenant?”

“Partially, Ms. Stratton.”

“What does that even mean, ‘partially’, Lieutenant?”

“Annica and Elias forced me to come talk to you. I was going to wait until you made an appearance, but they forced me into here.”

Lily shakes her head. “Of course they did.”

“Now it’s my turn to ask what that means, Ms. Stratton.”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, it’s none of your concern.”

Jacob has an amused look in his eyes. “Mhm, if you say so, Ms. Stratton. May I ask, what are you doing?”

“I am prepping the potatoes for you and your fellow soldiers’ meal.”

“May I help, Ms. Stratton,” Jaocb asks.

“No, you may not, Lieutenant.”

Jacob asks. “And why is that?”

“You are supposed to be enjoying your evening and not working. Let me do my job, Lieutenant.”

Jacob’s deep chuckle sent shivers down Lily’s spine. “Yes, ma’am. Mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Don’t you want to go back to your friends?” Lily asks.

“Do you really want to get rid of me that quickly?”

“No,” Lily says quickly and gets a raised eyebrow from Jacob. She blushes before she responds. “I just don’t know why you’d want to spend the evening in a kitchen when you could be drinking and dancing and ignoring your problems and the war.”

“That’s fair, but why can’t I want to spend the time with my friend?”

Lily’s smile falters slightly when Jacob calls her his friend. She doesn’t let it show, though, in her response. “Quite presumptuous, no? Calling me your friend, Lieutenant?”

“Is that not what this is?” Jacob asks with a smirk.

“I’m not sure, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Well, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be friends with you. I think you and me could be a very powerful duo one day.”

“As friends,” Lily confirms.

“As friends, what else would we be?” Jacob asks obliviously.

“No yeah, you’re right,” Lily says. Jacob didn’t want anything more than friends with her, and she was going to be okay with that, right? Lily wasn’t going to let the attraction she felt towards Jacob ruin a perfectly fine relationship. “I’m going to get back to these potatoes, okay?”

“Yes, of course; don’t let me distract you.” Jacob tells Lily. Yeah, maybe he should walk out of the kitchen then if he didn’t want to distract her.

. . .

“Oh, good morning, Ms. Stratton,” Jacob says to Lily outside the meeting room for officers.

“Oh!” Lily says in reply. “Lieutenant, good morning to you!”

“What are you doing here?”

“I am setting up coffee, tea, and donuts for the troops this fine morning,” Lily jokes at the end. It was an awfully dreary morning with dark clouds in the sky, fog setting on the land, and a chilly breeze.

“Nice joke,” Jacob tells her.

Lily pretends to be offended. “What? This weather is quite fine.”

“I’m not sure where you’re from, but this weather is normally dreary and not ‘fine’.”

“Where are you from, Lieutenant?”

“I’m from Calgary; normal people don’t find this weather enjoyable.”

“Oh!” Lily says and raises her eyebrows. “So you’re calling me not normal and weird.”

“Who says that being not normal is weird, Ms. Stratton?” Jacob asks in a flirtatious tone. “Wait, does this mean that you like this wet, dreary weather?”

“I do like this weather, Lieutenant.”

“Where are you from, then?”

“Well, I’m from Vancouver; this weather is quite normal for Vancouverites.”

“Ah, Vancouver. Quite a lovely city, Ms. Stratton.”

“If you’re asking for me to compliment your home, Lieutenant, let me tell you, I have never been to Calgary, so I have no idea what to say.”

“Understandable, Ms. Stratton. Care to tell me about Vancouver, then?”

“Well, Lieutenant, what do you want to know?”

“Mm, I’m not sure,” Jacob says, and he playfully scratches his chin. “What about --”

“Lieutenant Markstrom, we need you here!” Captain Mark Giordano, their company CO, interrupts. “Stop flirting with the Red Cross workers!”

“Yes sir!” Jacob says. He turns to face Lily, his face is tinged with red. “My sincerest apologies, Ms. Stratton. Maybe we could continue this conversation another time?”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Lily tells Jacob with a smile. He gives her one last glance before turning and walking away.

“So, you two are getting pretty close, eh?” Chris Tanev eggs Jacob on when he’s joined his company.

Jacob gives Chris a weird look. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Lily.”

“What about me and Lily?”

“You should ask her out. I think she likes you.”

Jacob laughs. “No, she doesn’t, and I won’t be asking her out. So don’t bother asking me to.”

Chris sighs. “Sure, whatever you say.”

. . .

After getting back from his training, Jacob has a few hours of free time, and he doesn’t know what to do. Walking around base, Jacob opts to use this time to just escape from the horrors and gruelling atmosphere of war. Subconsciously, Jacob is heading towards the Red Cross building. Incidentally, this is also where Lily happens to be at the current moment. Realizing where he’s at, Jacob decides to walk into the building. Once he’s walked in, Jacob smiles when he sees Lily sitting at a table with a notepad in front of her.

Noticing she was concentrating on her current task, Jacob softly knocks on the table to signal his arrival. Lily looks up and smiles when she sees Jacob.

“Well, hello, Lieutenant.”

“Hi, Ms. Stratton. Mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all,” Lily says and motions for the chair next to hers.

“What are you working on?” Jacob asks inquisitively.

“The Red Cross is putting on a Canada Day celebration for the troops. Because you can’t be home with your families on Canada Day, we thought we’d host our own for you here.”

“That sounds nice; you Red Cross women work hard.”

Lily smiles at Jacob. “Thank you, but I think you soldiers work harder.”

Jacob smiles at Lily. “Do you need any help with this?”

“I think I’m good at the moment; this is the first event that I will be hosting and organizing on my own.”

“Wait, does that mean you’re doing everything on your own?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m just the one in charge with making all the decisions and leading everyone.”

“I think you’re going to do great, Ms. Stratton.”

“Why, thank you, Lieutenant,” Lily says. Jacob was truly going to be the death of her one day.

“So, what did you do during your free time?” Elias asks later that day. He had his suspicions when he saw Jacob walking back to the barracks in the direction of the Red Cross building.

“Oh, nothing,” Jacob says. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t want to tell Elias about going to see Lily, but he knows he wants to keep that to himself.

“So, you didn’t go to the Red Cross building, then?”

“Um, no?” Jacob says.

“Why the questioning tone with that response?”

“Why all the questions badgering me about my free time?”

“Fair enough,” Elias relents.

“Just out of curiosity, why do you think I went to the Red Cross building?” Jacob asks.

“I don’t think you went; I know you went,” Elias says with power. “I saw you walking back from the direction of the Red Cross building.”

Jacob laughs and shakes his head. “Why then are you asking if you know the answer?”

“So you did go to see Lily, then?”

“I, yeah.”

“Why did you lie to me just now, then?”

Jacob shrugs. “I don’t think you need to know everything about my personal life, Elias.”

Elias sighs. “Yeah, sure, if that’s the reason, then.”

“What does that even mean?”

Elias stares Jacob directly in the eye. “You mean to tell me that there is nothing going on between you and Lily?”

“Yes, why?” Jacob asks, confused.

“Nevermind,” Elias says. This was the way it’s going to be then; Jacob was going to be oblivious to what was directly in front of him.

. . .

June 5, 1940

“I’m thinking maybe make centerpieces for all the tables,” Lily explains to some of the other Red Cross workers. “I’m going to see if my mum can send anything from back home for us to use. In the meantime, Rebecca, if you can try to find red table cloths and red and white paper. We will use the table cloths for the tables. The paper will be used to make flags. I doubt that anywhere in Great Britain sells Canadian flags. For now, why don’t we work with what we have. Let’s work on making posters to put up around base, okay?”

The group disperses into their individual groups to work on the fliers and posters.

“Any way I can help?” Jacob says out of nowhere.

“Where did you come from?” Lily asks.

“I walked in to come see you, but you were talking. I didn’t want to disturb you; you seemed like you were on a roll.”

“Oh, well, at the moment, I’m okay at the moment. However, in the future, I might be able to use your height for my advantage.”

“Let me know the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. What do you have planned today?”

“The weather is too muddy for us to train, so it’s a day off after our run this morning.”

“Sounds nice, what do you plan on doing?”

“I planned on coming here to see you and help, but it looks like you’re all good here.”

“How are you with coloring?”

“Is that a threat or a serious question?” Jacob jokes.

“Serious question,” Lily responds. “I was going to color in these posters, but, since you’re here, do you mind helping?”

“I don’t mind,” Jacob responds.

“Follow me,” Lily says and leads Jacob over to where her posters were. “Here. Just use these paintbrushes, please.”

“And just color it in?”

“That’s how you do it.”

Jacob begins coloring in the outlined words and pictures on the poster. He looks up and sees Lily scribbling away on her notepad. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I am finetuning some of the details of the decorations,” she responds.

“What kind of decorations do you want to do?”

“I’m thinking of making a banner to hang made of Canadian flags,” Lily answers.

“That’s a lot of work,” Jacob admits.

“Sure, but you guys do a lot too, so shouldn’t we do something for you guys?”

“But we’re fighting a bad guy.”

“And we’re fighting off bad morale and poor morale and spirit”

“I guess both are quite vital, right?” Jacob says.

“Yes,” Lily responds. “Oh, that reminds me. I want to launch a campaign to help you guys get stuff from home.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, our budget has a little bit extra cash,” Lily says. “I’m trying to get approval, so that I can reach out to your families to send the money to send small things to remind you guys of home.”

“That’s a great idea, Ms. Stratton. Also, I finished this flag, do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please. Don’t tell anyone yet, though, because I’m not one hundred percent sure that I’ll get approval.”

“I won’t, promise, but I hope you get it. The boys will like it for sure, if you can get approval.”

Lily smiles at Jacob. There was something about his presence that made Lily feel lighter and so much happier.

. . .

June 16, 1940

“Hey, Ms. Stratton,” Matthew says to the woman. “What are you doing here? Come to see Jacob?”

A red tint crosses Lily’s face at Jacob’s name, and Matthew smirks. “Actually, no. I’m here to pick up our shipment of supplies that came in today.”

“Oh, did you want some help?”

“Don’t worry, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Matthew asks. He looks at the large boxes labeled “Red Cross” and knows that it will be multiple trips to her car.

Glancing at the boxes, Lily changes her mind. “If you don’t mind, actually, could you?”

“Sure, I did offer to help,” Matthew says and follows Lily. The pair both grab two boxes each and head towards the car provided by the Red Cross for Lily. “Oh, hey, Marky,” Matthew says with a smirk on his face.

Lily turns to the man in question and a smile breaks out on her face. “Marky?”

“That’s my nickname,” Jacob responds with a red tint forming on his face. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, Lieutenant Tkachuk is helping me load up the Red Cross supplies into the car, so I can bring it back to the Red Cross building.”

“Did you need more help with that?” Jacob asks with a slight undertone of jealousy. Was Jacob jealous that Matthew was helping Lily?

“Um, I think we’re okay, but thanks,” Lily responds.

“Actually, I just realized,” Matthew states. “I have something I have to do, so, Marky, why don’t you help Ms. Stratton?”

“Oh, sure,” Jacob says.

“Bye, you two!” Matthew says as he walks away. “Behave!”

“Chucky, always making inappropriate jokes,” Jacob says.

“Oh, sure,” Lily replies. “So, Marky, huh?”

Jacob laughs. “That’s what they call me.”

“I’m assuming that’s a play on your last name, Markstrom, right?”

“You’re assuming correct.”

Lily laughs, “what would you like me to call you?”

“Anything is fine.”

Lily puts on a mischievous grin that makes Jacob’s heart skip a beat. “Okay, then. Marky, do you mind taking that box for me?”

Jacob shakes his head with a smile. “No, don’t call me that. You’re far too nice to call me Marky.”

“What does that mean, Lieutenant Markstrom?” Lily says with an emphasis on his name.

“The boys use that as a joke and to tease. They’re just being mean; you’re far too nice for that.”

“Interesting evaluation, Lieutenant.”

“You can call me Jacob, you know.”

“Oh, okay, sure, Jacob. You can call me Lily then.”

Jacob smiles. “Do you have a nickname or something?”

“Not really. My grandmother calls me Lilibeth, but that’s just because she wanted me to be an Elizabeth. She’s still quite bitter about that.”

“Well, Lily, I think your name fits you perfectly.”

“Thank you,” Lily says to Jacob with a smile that could win the war if anyone saw it.

After about fifteen minutes of transporting boxes, the pair finally finished.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are all these boxes for?” Jacob asks. “Didn’t you guys get a shipment last week?”

“We get shipments every week with our supplies,” Lily explains. “However, there’s a bit more today because some of this stuff is also for the Canada Day celebration. I can guarantee that there are three extra crates of potatoes than normal.”

“What are the potatoes for?”

“Poutine of course. We can’t have a Canada Day celebration without it.”

“Are you making it?” Jacob asks.

“Well, me and some of the other women, but yes.”

“What else do you guys plan on serving?”

“Probably just sandwiches. We have to be careful with rationing and stuff like that.”

“Makes sense. Again, if you need any more help, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Jacob,” Lily says. “Just remember, you are fighting a war, so helping me is helping to fight the war.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jacob says. “See you soon?”

“Yeah,” Lily says, and she gets in the car. Jacob closes the door for her, and she waves as she starts the car. “Thank you again.”

“Of course,” he replies. If he had a giant smile on his face watching her drive away, then so be it.

. . .

June 30, 1940

“No, a little higher, please,” Lily instructs Melody.

“Here?” Melody confirms.

“Perfect,” Lily responds, and Melody places the banner on the tape.

“Wow, it looks nice in here,” Jacob says from the doorway.

“Thank you,” Lily says with a smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Captain Giordano had a box of supplies that his wife sent, so he sent me here to give them to you.”

“Oh, perfect! He was telling me about these; I’m glad they came in time!”

“Are you already for tomorrow?”

“I think so,” Lily says nervously. “The only thing we have left is to make all the food.”

“What are you making?”

“I told you about poutine and the sandwiches. I also want to make nanaimo bars; my mother sent me some ingredients from back home. I’ve never made it without her, so we shall see how it turns out.”

“I can’t wait to try them,” Jacob says. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, actually,” Lily says. “I want this to be a surprise for you and the men, so you should leave.”

“I should leave?” Jacob asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what I mean, Jacob.”

“Yeah, well, can you at least tell me what I might expect?”

“I’m going to be very vague about it,” Lily says.

“That’s fine; I just like hearing you talk.”

Oh? This was new to Lily. “I, okay, I am going to deck this place out in Canadian flags, maple leafs, and red.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Through banners, tablecloths, centerpieces, and decorations.”

“If you want to help, let me know, Lil,” Jacob says.

Lily smiles at the nickname. “No, thank you. If you want to help, then you can leave.”

“But --”

“No,” Lily says and begins to push Jacob out the door.

“Lily, come on,” Jacob pleads.

“I’m not trying to be mean. I just need you gone, so that the Red Cross Ladies and I can get things done,” Lily further pushes Jacob out the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” Jacob says as Lily closes the door. Despite Lily pushing Jacob out the door, there was still a wide smile on his face with a slight blush. Only Lily could bring out a smile like this on Jacob, could there be another reason for this?

July 1, 1940

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Jacob urges on to his friends.

“Why is this so important to you?” Matthew asks with a smirk.

“No reason,” Jacob says obliviously. “I know how hard Lily has been working on this, and I want to support her.”

Matthew laughs and shakes his head. So, this was still happening then; Jacob was going to remain oblivious. This was going to be fun.

When they walk in, Jacob smiles. He was impressed. Lining the walls and ceilings were banners made of Canada flags. Each table was dressed in a red tablecloth with an elaborate centerpiece in the center. Each centerpiece was made with fake flowers with fake maple leafs hanging around it. Lining the floors were fake maple leafs. The thought that each piece of decoration had was obvious. Lily really had the skill and knack to do anything she set her mind to.

“Hey,” Lily tells the group as they walk into the Red Cross building. “Welcome to our Canada Day in England Celebration.”

“Hey,” Jacob says, and his smile immediately widdens. “It looks great in here, Lil.”

The guys roll their eyes at Jacob’s pet name for Lily. Right, Jacob wasn’t incredibly whipped for the Red Cross worker.

“Thanks,” Lily responds. “We worked hard for this to be great for you guys, so enjoy! I told you it was a good idea for me to kick you out.”

“Sure, sure,” Jacob responds with a smile, and Lily waves as she heads to the next group to soldiers to greet.

The boys thank her and give Jacob an amused look.

“What?” he asks.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Matthew asks with a grin.

“Not sure. Ask Elias, he’s the one getting married,” Jacob answers.

“Elias?” Matthew asks Elias.

“Whenever he decides to pull himself together and figure it out on his own,” Elias answers.

“What?” Jacob asks, confused. They very clearly are not talking about Elias’ engagement to Annica.

“Nothing,” Elias and Matthew say together.

Jacob rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s find the rest of the unit.” The trio walks towards their captain and other unit members.

“This is really good,” Matthew says as he spoonfuls a mouth of poutine. “You’re a lucky man, Marky.”

Jacob looks up. “What?”

“To have a girl who cooks this amazing is so lucky.”

“I’m not dating anyone, though,” Jacob says.

“Oh, right, you haven’t realized you’re in love with Lily.”

Jacob glares at Matthew. “I haven’t realized because I’m not in love with her.”

“Sure,” Matthew says and shakes his head.

“So, Jacob, do you love my Nanaimo bars?” Lily asks as the celebration is wrapping up.

“I actually haven’t had one yet,” Jacob admits.

Lily gasps in a playful manner. “You haven’t tried one yet?”

Jacob smiles. “No, I haven’t.”

Lily suddenly grows somber. “I don’t think we can be friends, Jacob.”

“Why not?”

“Because, you haven’t eaten one of the Nanaimo bars, yet, obviously.”

Jacob laughs. “What can I do to make up for it?”

“Come with me,” Lily says and takes Jacob’s hand. She leads Jacob into the kitchen and pulls out a paper plate. “I was saving these for the Red Cross women, but since you haven’t had one yet, I feel that it’s important for you to have one.”

Lily grabs a small plate and places a Nanaimo bar on it; she hands the plate to Jacob with a smile.

“I just eat it?” Jacob asks.

“Yes, unless you want to tell me how beautiful it looks.”

You’re really beautiful. “It’s beautiful, Lily; it’s absolutely stunning.” Like you.

“Thank you, and now, try it.”

Jacob nods and eats it in one bite. “That’s amazing,” he says after finishing it. “I absolutely love it. I’m not sure why I didn’t get one earlier.”

“I’m not sure if there’s anymore around here, but you can have mine from the tray.”

“No, no, I won’t do that; you eat it,” Jacob says.

“I’ve had a few already, you eat it,” Lily insists.

“What about we share it?” Jacob suggests.

“Sure, let me get a fork.” Lily goes to the drawer and grabs a fork. She places one of the Nanaimo bars on the plate, Jacob puts out the knife. “Where did you get a knife from?”

“When you were getting the fork, I grabbed a knife.”

“That makes sense. You cut then?”

Jacob nods and cuts the bar in half. He grabs the fork and spears one of the pieces. “Here you go.” Lily grabs the fork out of his hand, and their hands briefly touch.

“Thank you,” Lily barely whispers as her face grows warm. She could suppress these feelings she had, right?

. . .

July 2, 1940

“So, you and Jacob, huh?” Annica says.

“What?” Lily says with a blush.

“You and Jacob are finally dating!”

“Yeah, no we’re not.”

“Oh, come on, really?” Annica asks. “I saw you guys in the kitchen yesterday. You guys were cute together and interacted so well together.”

Lily looks up. “It doesn’t matter what you saw.”

“Why’s that?” Annica asks curiously.

“He doesn’t feel the same,” Lily answers.

Annica squeals.

“What?” Lily questions.

“You like him?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I do.”

“I know you don’t think he feels the same why, but he does,” Annica insists.

“No, he doesn’t.”

Annica shakes her head and sighs. Will the pair finally realize the way they both feel for each other?

. . .

August 10, 1940

“Lily, wait up!” Jacob calls out to Lily.

She turns around and smiles when she sees Jacob. “Hey, it’s you!”

“It’s me indeed. Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere in particular. I’m just out for a walk. You?”

“Same, mind if I join you?”

“Of course,” Lily replies with a smile. “How has your day been?”

“It’s been fine. I can’t complain. How about you, Lil?”

“Same, too. I’m ready to immerse myself in our next project, though.”

“What’s your next project?” Jacob asks.

“Other than Annica and Elias’ wedding?” Lily jokes.

“I guess that is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“It is, but it’s exciting for them.”

“The Red Cross is putting on the wedding?”

“No, we aren’t,” Lily shakes her head. “However, her friends who are in the Red Cross are putting it together. Both of their parents aren’t able to be here, so we are going to try to make this as special as possible for them.”

“Well, let me know if I can help in any way,” Jacob says.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she says with a smile.

. . .

September 16, 1940

“Guess who?” Jacob says as he covers Lily’s eyes.

“Matthew?” Lily jokes. She knows exactly who it is.

“Oh, I’m offended,” he says, and Lily giggles as he sits down next to her. “What are you reading?”

“A book,” Lily teases.

“Really?” Jacob says with a raised eyebrow. “I never could have guessed. What’s the book?”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

“Oh, a classic,” Jacob says. “Are you enjoying it?”

“I’ve read it quite a few times. We only have so many books here, so I’m rereading it.”

“One of your favorites?”

“It is,” Lily responds with a smile.

“Whatcha reading, Marky?” Matthew teases.

“A book, Chucky,” Jacob responds but not looking up.

“What’s the book?”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

This gets a bout of laughs from the men.

“Why are you reading that?” Elias says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read a book.”

“It’s one of Lily’s favorites, so I’m borrowing it from her and reading it.”

This comment from Jacob results in the men looking at each other knowingly. So, Jacob isn’t in love with Lily, right?”

. . .

October 11, 1940

“We missed you this past Friday at the Red Cross evening,” Jacob says to Lily as she’s setting up for the day’s activities.

Lily sniffles. “Yeah, I came down with a cold, so I stayed in my room.”

“Are you feeling better, now?” Jacob asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I have a bit of a runny nose still but nothing to worry about.”

“You’re sick, so shouldn’t we be a little bit concerned?”

“I was a lot worse the other day, so, in theory, no.”

Jacob doesn’t seem convinced. “Sure, if you say so, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be worried about you.”

Lily isn’t sure how to respond. She’s tried everything in her power to conceal her feelings towards Jacob; however, when he acts like this and cares for her like this, it’s hard to hide them. It’s only a matter of time before they go away, right?

. . .

November 5, 1940

“Maybe you should ask a girl to dance tonight,” Mark suggests. “It’ll take your mind off of what’s happening.”

It’s been a tough month with training and fighting. The men are tired and exhausted and stretched thin. When there is a day off, all anyone wants to do is sleep and catch up on writing home. Today is one of the few days that anyone wants to actually do anything on their day off. To seize the opportunity, the boys are going dancing.

“I think I’m good,” Jacob replies.

“Come on, live a little, have some fun, Marky,” Mark eggs on. “How about this, you tell me what you want in a girl, and I will try to find you someone who fits the bill.”

Jacob sighs. “Fine.”

“Then, Marky, close your eyes and tell me about what you want in a girl.”

Jacob closes his eyes and begins picturing the girl he wants to marry. His eyes are closed for a few seconds, but he suddenly snaps them open. He shouldn’t be picturing Lily’s green eyes or dark hair. He shouldn’t be smiling at the memory of Lily’s giggle. Why was he picturing his friend? Why was Lily’s face all he could see when he closed his eyes?

“You figure it out?” Mark asks.

“Oh, um,” Jacob begins with a shaky breath. “Blue or brown eyes? Maybe light hair. It doesn’t have to be blond or anything. Like, light brown hair? Or a mix?” Yeah, opposite of what Lily looked like.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t catch on to what Jacob was doing. Why was he thinking about Lily as his dream girl?

. . .

December 16, 1940

“Are you ready?” Lily asks Annica. “It’s the big day.”

“I think so,” Annica responds nervously. Lily helps Annica put on her veil.

“You look so beautiful; Elias is going to love you,” Lily tells her friend. Today was the big day. Annica and Elias were getting married, finally. From meeting before the war and somehow ending up in the same place, the pair fell in love and are finally getting married.

“I hope so,” she responds. “What if he isn’t there?”

“He’ll be there, I promise. He loves you more than anything in the world; I have no doubt that Elias will be standing there in his dress uniform ready to sweep you off your feet.”

Annica takes a deep breath. “Let’s head to the cathedral?”

Lily smiles. “Let’s head to the cathedral.”

“Ready, Elias?” Jacob asks. “As best man, I think it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re ready.”

Elias takes a deep breath. “I think so.”

“You look great, and she’ll love you.”

“The bride is here,” the bishop says. “Jacob, if you could head to the back and Elias, follow me?”

Elias nods. “I’m getting married!”

Jacob smiles. “That you are.”

Jacob heads to the back of the cathedral to get ready to process in with the few bridesmaids and groomsmen.

“You have the rings?” Lily asks when Jacob finally reaches the vestibule.

“Yes, I have the rings,” Jacob says and looks at Lily. the breath leaves his body. “Wow, you look beautiful, Lily.”

Lily feels the heat rush to her face. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Jacob smiles and blushes. “We should get ready, yeah?”

Lily nods. “We’re walking down the aisle together.”

Jacob stops. He was supposed to lead Lily down the aisle when she was dressed in that beautiful dress that made his heart race? “Oh, okay.”

As the music begins, Lily and Jacob walk down the aisle as instructed. Throughout the entire ceremony, Jacob couldn’t stop staring at Lily. It didn’t matter if they were directly across from each other in the pew and Jacob had to move his head, he wanted to look at Lily. He wasn’t sure if she knew he was staring, but he didn’t care. She was so beautiful, and Jacob just couldn’t look away.

“How are you enjoying the evening, Jacob?” Lily asks as she goes and sits next to him at the ceremony.

“I’m enjoying the evening,” he responds with a smile. “I love that Elias and Annica are finally married. They are perfect for each other, and it shows.”

Lily nods in response. “I agree. I have a question for you.“

“Sure.”

“Do you see yourself getting married one day and doing all this?”

Jacob looks at Lily. “I’m not sure. Maybe? I think if I find the right woman who I want to spend the rest of my life with, then yes.”

Lily nods. “What does this perfect person entail to you?”

“I’m not sure,” Jacob responds. “I think someone who is smart, knows what she wants, kind, and passionate.” Kind of like you.

“Beauty isn’t a requirement?” Lily teases.

Jacob blushes. “Beauty is a weird concept, in my opinion. Everyone is beautiful in their own way, and everyone’s standards of beauty are different. So, if you find yourself beautiful, I’ll find you beautiful. If you don’t find yourself beautiful, then I’ll still find you beautiful because you are beautiful.”

“That’s really sweet, Jacob.”

“I can be a bit of a romantic when there isn’t a war to be fought.”

Lily laughs. “I can see that.”

“How about you? Do you see yourself getting married one day?”

“I think so, but similarly to you, when the right person comes, I’ll know. I do know, though, that I want to have a family.”

Jacob nods. “What do you see in your future husband?”

Lily takes a moment to respond. How can she try to describe Jacob without describing Jacob? How does she tell him that she sees him, or someone like him, to be her future husband? Fortunately, though, another soldier walks up to Lily and Jacob interrupting Lily’s response.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but a pretty girl like you should be dancing, no?” he says. Smooth, Lily thinks.

“If someone were to ask me, then I’d dance with them,” Lily flirts back. If Jacob wasn’t ever going to reciprocate her feelings, she should be able to try to move on, right?

“Well, ma’am, may I have the next dance?”

Lily looks to Jacob for confirmation. Afterall, they were having a conversation. Jacob motions his hand to express that Lily could dance. What was he to say, anyways? No, Lily, you can’t dance because we’re just friends, but you make my heart burst? No Lily you can’t dance with him because you make me calm and happy, but we’re just friends?

Lily takes this soldier’s hand and follows him to the dance floor.

“If it’s not too much to ask, may I ask your name, soldier?” Lily asks.

“Corporal Liam Springs,” Liam responds. Lower rank than Jacob Lily thinks to herself. Stop comparing the two. “And you are?”

“Red Cross worker Lily Stratton. How do you know the bride and groom?”

“I trained with Elias before getting transferred to a different unit.”

Lily nods. “I work with Annica, and we are close friends. That’s how I know the bride.”

As the song continues, Lily and Liam strike up a conversation. The constant thought that Lily kept having were along the lines of “that’s not how Jacob does it” or “Jacob is funnier” or “Jacob makes me smile more”. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she try to get over Jacob? It was obvious that Jacob would never feel the same, so why was she hung up on him? Because. Because Lily Stratton was in love with Jacob Markstrom, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Meanwhile, as Lily and Liam danced, Jacob was staring at the pair and sulking. There was something upsetting about watching Lily dancing with someone else.

“What are you staring at?” Chris asks Jacob as he approaches.

Jacob doesn’t realize someone was talking to him or came up to his table.

“Marky, what are you looking at?” Chris asks again; Jacob doesn’t realize. Chris smacks Jacob’s arm.

“Hey!” he finally says. “What was that for?”

“What are you staring at?” Chris asks for the third time.

Jacob doesn’t say anything but returns his gaze back to what he was staring at. This time, Chris follows Jacob’s eyeline and realizes what Jacob was looking at. He was looking at Lily, dressed in a beautiful blush dress, dancing with Liam.

“Jacob,” Chris begins.

“Why doesn’t she want to dance with me?” Jacob asks. “I’m right here, and she chooses to dance with him. I’m not disappearing or going anywhere.”

“Why do you want to dance with her?” Chris asks. Jacob always insisted that he and Lily were just friends, so why is he getting so worked up over Lily dancing with someone else?

“Because, I don’t know,” Jacob says and shakes his head. “I want to be the one to have all her attention. I want to be the one on the receiving end of her smiles. I want to be the one to dance with her. I want to be the one who she goes to when she has the biggest news or the smallest news. I just want to be around her.”

“Can I say something without you getting upset or mad at me?” Chris approaches.

“Maybe, I’m not promising anything.”

“That’s fair,” Chris begins. “I think you’re feeling this way because you’re jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous?”

Chris opens his mouth but then closes it again.

“Just say it.”

“Jacob, you’re in love with her, and I think you’re finally starting to realize that yourself.”

Jacob stares at Chris dumbfounded. He wanted to contradict his friend; however, as he sat with the thought, the more he realized that Chris was right. Jacob was in love with Lily, and he probably drew away your love because he acted in ways that represented he only wanted to be your friend. “Oh my goodness, I’m in love with her.”

Chris nods.

“What do I do? Do I just tell her? What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“I’m not sure what to tell you, Jacob,” Chris says. “I’m pretty sure she feels the same way, but whatever you do, you have to commit one hundred percent. You can’t go into it and only have one foot in and one foot out. She deserves the truth and everything you have to offer.”

Jacob nods. What does he do now?

. . .

“So, you and Lily, huh?” Jacob says to Liam quite passive-aggressively a few days later.

“Oh, um it’s nothing too serious,” Liam says. “We’re just talking and getting to know each other.”

Jacob scowls at the other soldier. “She’s a special girl, so don’t string her along if you have no serious intentions with her.”

“I wasn’t?”

“Good,” Jacob says and walks away angrily. That man shouldn’t get to have Lily’s love and attention. He wasn’t good enough for Lily.

. . .

“Guess what Elias told me?” Annica says as she and Lily are preparing for the day.

“What did Elias tell you?” Lily asks. “Something gross about your guys’ married life now?”

“Lily!” Annica says shocked. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t share that with you. No, Jacob and Liam got into a fight.”

“What?” Lily asks, shocked.

“Yeah, they were arguing about something and Liam punched him.”

“Do you know why they fought?”

Annica shakes her head. “I do have a theory, though.”

“What’s your theory?”

“You.”

“Me?” Lily asks.

“I think they fought about you because they both like you.”

“I’d believe you except for the fact that Jacob doesn’t like me like that.”

“I don’t know what to say to you, Lily. I think Jacob likes you, and you should talk to him.”

“Maybe,” is all Lily says. Why would Jacob like her if he’s only ever treated her as a friend?

. . .

“Did you know that vegetables can make you tan?” Liam says to Lily out of blue.

“What?” Lily says with a giggle. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is! I promise; I learned it in school.”

“Where did you go to school?” Jacob questions annoyingly. He can’t stand Liam, and Liam did punch Jacob in the jaw. Granted, however, Jacob was egging on Liam, but what else was he to say as Liam talked about how you weren’t good enough for him? Liam should be lucky to have you.

“I went to the University of British Columbia,” Liam answers in a tone that Lily couldn’t quite decipher.

“Of course you did; it makes sense why you learned that in school.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Jacob says and looks away. There was no reason for Jacob’s comment. He had no hate against UBC except for the fact that Liam learned something from there that was bringing out your giggles. He wanted to be the one to do that. Jacob wanted to make you giggle and laugh, not UBC Liam.

“Jacob,” Lily says to him in an aggravated voice. “Can we go talk in private for a moment?”

“Sure,” Jacob says in a monotone voice.

“Jacob, what is the matter with you?” Lily fiercely says to Jacob when they’re in private.

“What, Lily?” Jacob says.

“Why are you treating Liam like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re acting like an idiot and are being truly mean and cold towards him. Why can’t you be nice to him?”

“Why are you even entertaining him, Lily?” Jacob asks with conviction.

“I don’t know,” Lily confesses.

“Really? It doesn’t seem like. It seems like you’re in love with him!”

“Well, I’m not in love with him.”

“Then why do you care for him?”

“I guess because he makes me laugh, makes me smile, and gives me attention. He cares for me, and it’s nice to have that feeling.”

“You are entertaining him for the attention he gives you? I can make you laugh, smile, and give you attention, yet you chose his attention?”

“His attention isn’t the one I want, but it’s the one I get,” Lily tells Jacob.

Jacob looks at her with a sad expression. “Yeah, whatever.”

He walks away, and Lily is beyond confused. She kind of just admitted to having feelings for Jaocb, and he just walked away?

. . .

“I’m not sure what funk you’re in, but it needs to stop,” Mark says. This was the captain's cornering that Jacob was expecting to come soon. “It’s not affecting your fighting, but it will soon.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacob responds.

“No, I tried to let you figure this out on your own, but it’s not working,” Mark contradicts with purpose in his voice. “What’s wrong? You’re not leaving until you figure out what’s wrong.”

“I think I blew it with Lily,” is all Jacob says. “I treated Liam like crap, and I think that’s the end of anything with her. She hasn’t talked to me in days. I miss her. I’m also in love with her, and I know I blew that with her.”

“Wait, you’re in love with her? When did you finally realize this?”

“When she started dancing with Liam,” Jacob says.

“If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think she’s been hanging out with him recently.”

“Wait, really?” Jacob says shocked.

“Whether or not you believe me, but I think she likes you, too.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jacob insists.

“Yes, she does. I just think you didn’t know how you felt, so you ignored anything she did that might have indicated this. How many times did she spend her evenings with you? Or, did she go to you when she needed help? It didn’t matter, she always went to you or your aid. She always went to you first if Annica wasn’t around which is saying a lot because the pair are super close.”

Jacob just stares at Mark dumbfounded. He’s right. Did Lily really feel the same way? Was it possible? What if Lily didn’t feel the same way anymore? What if Jacob ruined anything ever happening? In order to quell any lingering thoughts, he knew that he had to talk to Lily.

. . .

January 1, 1941

New year, new start, right? That’s the saying? Jacob couldn’t set the world on it’s new start overnight, but he could fix his relationship with Lily. Hopefully.

You can do this, Jacob keeps telling himself. If she didn’t feel the same way anymore, then Jacob would understand. It took him hell of an amount of time to realize himself, so he’d understand if Lily got tired of waiting. He could do this.

Jacob walks into the kitchen where Annica told him Lily would be. “Hey,” he says when he walks in.

Lily looks up and gives him a soft smile. “Hey, Jacob. Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year to you as well!” Jacob says and takes a deep breath. “Would it be okay if we went for a walk? I asked Annica, and she said that you deserve a break.”

Lily laughs. “Sure, let me just wash my hands and grab my coat. Give me a sec.”

Jacob nods.

“Ready?” Lily asks when she returns. Jacob smiles at her and leads Lily out of the kitchen to go outside. After about five minutes of walking in silence, Lily decides to ask what the reason for requesting a walk was. “Jacob, why do you want to go on a walk with me?”

“Can’t I just want to go on a New Year's walk with my lovely friend?”

“You are, but we aren’t really talking much right now.”

“That’s what I want to fix. I have one question first, what’s happening with you and Liam?”

“Nothing, I told him that I couldn’t be with him romantically if I was in love with someone else. Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a move on someone else’s girlfriend.”

“Who do you want to make a move on?” Lily asks obliviously.

Jacob gives Lily a deep chuckle. “You.”

Lily stops in her tracks and it takes a moment for Jacob to realize. “You want me?” she asks.

“I want everything with you. I know that I was an ass to Liam, and I treated you unfairly recently. In my defense, though, I finally realized I was in love with you, and I thought you didn’t like me or already got over me.”

“It’s hard to get over someone you’re crazy about,” Lily says, and Jacob erupts into a large smile.

“You mean that?”

Lily nods. “I’ve been crazy about you since that day you scared the crap out of me.”

Jacob laughs at the memory. “I think I’ve been crazy about you, too, but I just didn’t realize.”

“Good thing you realized now, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Jacob says and cups Lily’s cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

Lily nods. “Absolutely.” The gentle kiss that Jacob places on Lily’s lips was immaculate. She never knew that kissing someone so softly could also be filled with so much passion. She knew that she never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. “What do we do now?” Lily asks after they break away from the kiss.

“Well, we finish fighting this war, I bring you home with me to meet my family, and we live happily ever after,” Jacob says with a smile. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely perfect,” Lily says and reaches to kiss Jacob again.

. . .

March 18, 1946

“Should I put my hand under yours?” Lily asks Jacob, her now husband. They were about to cut the cake at their wedding reception filled with their friends and family.

“Yes, you do that,” Jacob says and places a kiss on top of his wife’s head. The cut into the cake and cut a piece and put it on the plate. They both grab a fork to take a piece. They look eyes before eating the cake and smile. After finishing their bite, Jacob and Lily kiss amongst the hoots and cheers from the people gathered around them.

“Nice cake choice, Mrs. Markstrom,” Jacob says.

“See? This is why we listen to me.”

Jacob chuckles. “I guess I have forever to listen to you.”

“That you do.”

All the way across the world they had a love story. Now, on the other side, they had their forever. All the way across the world in England bloomed a friendship and love story for the ages. All the way in Calgary, though, Jacob and Lily had the start of their forever that was a story that instilled hope in all young people and couples.

[tothatmanonthebridge]

Review: Star Trek - The Original Series 'The Squire of Gothos' (S1 Ep18)

Trelane obviously has done his homework on humans, but he failed to learn the most sacred rule of human civilisation:

You don’t get to pick your own nickname.

It is a depressing thought that an outside vision of Earth would see war as our primary pastime, our way of being. But while Trelane gets the pattern right, he definitely misses the substance. War is not a feeling. It is something that happens to us, but it’s not the complex web of love and fear and hope and anger that constitutes our experience, whether in wartime or peacetime. Even when Trelane gets angry, it’s ultimately a shallow imitation. He says he experienced genuine anger, but for all his dramatics he never accesses the ‘real thing’.

Still, even as the episode positions the crew of the Enterprise as morally superior to Trelane, it does serve to poke holes in the ideology of the Starfleet. The phasers are notable for having a non-lethal setting, but they *can* kill. And Trelane’s demonstration of their power is chilling. Of course, the most disturbing element is Trelane’s giddy enthusiasm as he murders helpless creatures for no reason, when we have seen much more restraint from our heroes even when in direct conflict.

Every episode, the show announces that ‘space is the final frontier’. This statement evokes feelings of adventure and discovery. But, the American frontier was a violent conquest. The mission of the Enterprise, and its calm thoughtful realisation, might seem completely opposite to the lawless brutality of the wild west (that is to say, how it is depicted in film, the real history as I understand it, while very brutal, was much more complicated). However, the essential principles are similar: they are colonisers, never questioning their right to be cover new ground, and to settle wherever they please. Even if it’s relatively bloodless, I’d argue that it’s still violent.

Of course, a frontier does not have to be spatial. The frontier in the Star Trek universe is more one of knowledge (especially as the show so far can’t seem to decide if the ship is exploring mapped or unmapped territory). Acquiring knowledge about other species and planets is sort of gestured at half-heartedly within the plot, but really just like any good science fiction work, Star Trek deals with problems of human nature.

Even in the ostensibly ‘sillier’ episodes such as this one.

Some more thoughts:

I fully expected Desalle to bite it in this episode, he just exudes deadshirt energy and somehow he survived? Somehow everyone survived?

(Well, everyone human. R.I.P. Plum’s ex-girlfriend).

Actually wasn’t that creature the last of its kind? Did Trelane commit genocide??? It certainly fits the theme of the episode.

I noticed that Spock seems more comfortable in his position of authority here. It’s a nice continuation from Galileo Seven.

I love that this show seems fixated on two things: finding any excuse to dress up the women in period outfits, and undressing Kirk as much as possible…

The ending is obviously very similar to Charlie X, thank the PTB for deus ex machina eh? I do think Squire of Gothos is a better episode, although I did actually manage to have sympathy for the highly unlikeable Charlie at the end, who seemed genuinely terrified at going back to a life without love or affection, whereas with Trelane it was just a tantrum at playtime being over. It was appropriate of course, but by that point I was ready for it to be over tbh. I did love the spotlight focussed on Trelane and then slowly disappearing. It was a very appropriate artistic choice for our dramatic antagonist.

Queer Trek Corner:

How does this show keep getting gayer??? I realised I needed a dedicated section to keep my thoughts straight.

Not that my thoughts are ever ‘straight’ of course...

While Spock’s turn-on is obviously Kirk beating him at 3D chess, Kirk’s is evidently Spock delivering sick burns – which he does several times to Trelane in this episode. Here, Kirk gives Spock the most adoring look I have ever seen on a human being I MEAN COME ON THAT IS NOT A HETEROSEXUAL LOOK

And when Trelane attempts to force Kirk’s compliance, from a room full of onlooking crew members, he chooses to threaten Spock.

I’m sorry, it is a truth universally acknowledged that the villain will threaten the hero’s love interest. It’s a tale as old as time.

Now, Spock may not be a helpless damsel

-- I mean except in certain fun role-play situations… too much? --

but the effect is the same.

I think this could easily be one of my favourite episodes of season 1, but time will tell!

Next up: Arena

[sortasirius]

Half Yours, Half Mine

AN: *LIGHT SPOILERS for FATWS ep 3* Hello they are very much in love are they not?  That pining energy from Bucky is just off the charts in ep 3.  This is VERY angsty lmao

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Words: 1569

One AO3 here

The day Steve gave Bucky the notebook, it was two days before Steve was meant to step on the new quantum tunnel.  (Let’s call it what it is, a time machine.  Bucky swears he’s living in a sci-fi novel sometimes.)  He and Bucky were up late, talking about the things Bucky had missed in the last five years, the time heist, the support group Steve had started, the incredible Italian restaurant in the Upper East Side that Bucky simply had to try, when Steve suddenly had pulled the worn little book out of his pocket and handed it, wordlessly, to Bucky.

“What’s this?” Bucky turned the notebook in his hands, looking up at Steve, whose soft smile was enough to melt anyone, even a super-soldier.

“It’s something I started when I came out of the ice, something to help me…catch up with things.  Like food, movies, music, historical events, things I missed when I was under. Things that people suggested, things I saw myself.  I want you to have it.”

“Why?” Bucky had tried immediately to put the notebook back in Steve’s hands.  He could feel this coming, ever since Tony’s funeral, he could feel Steve pulling away, making subtle, slight preparations for his absence.  He had been giving things away: his worn books to Pepper, a simple gold chain to Morgan, a strange little collection of postcards to Bruce, picked up throughout his time on the run, all little pieces of his life, little pieces that, Bucky realized, would be to remember him by.  Steve didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

“You’re not coming back are you?”

Steve’s face twists just slightly at Bucky’s words, reaching forward and pushing the notebook back towards him, refusing to take it.

“Come on, Buck.  You know I don’t belong here-”

“Neither do I, I don’t belong here any more than you do,” Bucky can’t help the slight color of desperation, of anger in his voice.  How can Steve even think of leaving him here?  Leaving him behind?

“I- I’ve thought about this for a few weeks.  I don’t want to leave you, I never want to leave you, but I just, I don’t think I can stay,” Steve is staring at the ground now, the guilt palpable in his eyes, his posture.  He knew what his absence would cost the world, would cost the Avengers, would cost Bucky.  Did he know how much it would cost Bucky?  Did he really know?

Bucky can feel panic rising in his throat, the idea of being left alone in a big, wide world, a world without Steve?  How does he tell Steve to stay?  How does he tell Steve that he can’t live without him?

“Steve-”

Steve cuts him off before he can even start, like he can read his mind.  There were days that Bucky had wondered if maybe he could.

“I know how it seems, that I’m running away.  From the world, from you.  I’m not Buck, and I don’t want you to think- I just...I saw her, Peggy, when we went to get the stones, and I swear I saw this vision, this future of my life with her, what my life would be.  And that’s what I want.  Natasha, Tony, they sacrificed everything, and maybe I have too.  They told me to get my own life…this is a way I can do it.”

Bucky doesn’t say the words bubbling like acid in his chest, words that he had kept down, hidden, away from everyone since he was sixteen years old.  Words that he wanted to say to Steve, things he wanted Steve to know, he way he felt about Steve, the way Steve made him feel when he looked at him for a second too long.  Words that would be left forever unsaid except inside Bucky’s head, before his dreams turned to flashes of long-dead nightmares.  He had never been a hero, only a coward, and his inability to say these words proved it.

Now was no time to be a hero.

“Okay, Steve.  Okay,” is all that comes out of his mouth, and even though he can feel his heart rip into two, the smile that Steve gives him is almost worth it.

“I’m still with you.  Always.  Til the end of the line,” Steve points to the little book in Bucky’s hands, “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky can’t say anything, and Steve is watching him with what looks like longing in his eyes.  Does he want Bucky to beg him to stay?  Bucky wants to, he wants to with all his heart, but if this is what’ll make Steve happy…

They lean forward at the same moment, and Bucky tries to let all his feelings, all those unsaid words that were trapped in his throat bleed into the embrace.  He’ll never be able to say them, never be able to look Steve in the face and tell him everything, tell him the whole truth, but if he could let the contact with his skin be some kind of reminder, maybe he would learn to accept that that was enough.

Steve is the one to break the embrace, and Bucky can feel the heat of him lingering on his skin, and Bucky clings to the feeling, trying to commit the way Steve held him to memory, placing it in the empty space where the Winter Soldier used to be, letting this memory bloom and sprout like a beautiful garden, filled with forget me nots and daffodils, the perfect mixture of blue and blond.  Bucky swears to himself that he’ll tend this garden, feeding it with the memories of Steve, the memories that not even HYDRA could take from him.  He and Steve spending all day at the movies, laughing at the commercials and eating too much popcorn.  He and Steve getting their apartment together in Brooklyn, sleeping on the floor for three weeks because they couldn’t afford beds.  Finding each other again in the middle of a war-torn Europe, Bucky accepting that Steve was suddenly taller than him.  These memories would be the water, the sun in the sky to the garden in his mind, the garden of flowers that would be a constant reminder of Steve.

“You’ll be fine, Buck.  I believe that.”

“I’d like to believe it too.”

Steve smiles again, reaching out to run his hands through Bucky’s long hair.  Bucky closes his eyes at Steve’s touch, leaning into the warmth of his fingers.

“Just take a look at the list if you feel lost,” Steve pulls Bucky in again, hugging him tightly.  

“I’ll miss you, Steve,” Bucky blurts out, still holding onto the sleeves of Steve’s jacket with all his might, refusing to put any more space between them.  Steve huffs a little laugh, meeting Bucky’s eyes with a smile, with acceptance, with anticipation, with joy.

“I’ll miss you too, Buck.  But it’s time for me to go.”

The notebook had become the piece of Steve that Bucky could cling to, that and Steve’s dogtags, which had been folded tenderly in the back with a scribbled note from Steve:

Keep these safe for me.  I’ll see you on the other side.  Always, S.

Bucky had gotten better now, he only read that note ten times a day instead of fifty, a hundred, a thousand.

He had taken his time, going through the pages of things that Steve had wanted him to see, sometimes imagining that Steve was there with him watching Rocky for the first time, trying Thai food from a restaurant down the block from their old building, or listening to Nevermind. Steve had been right, he was with Bucky in everything he did, every new thing that he tried. His garden of memories continued to bloom, all blue and yellow and gold, maybe with just a hint of green.

Maybe this was why Bucky had put his list to make amends in the same notebook.  Maybe, just maybe, Steve would be with him when he spoke to these people who he had so deeply wronged as well.  He liked to think it worked, that Steve’s warm hand was on his shoulder as he worked to make amends, even if sometimes he had to work up to it, or made the wrong step (though really, was what he did to that Senator really the wrong step?). Steve’s notebook became their notebook, and it was a living memory of Steve, one that grew like the garden in Bucky’s mind.

Bucky also makes a list, in the very back of the book, next to Steve’s last note to him, of things he wanted to tell Steve.  

There was a bluebird outside my window today, you’d have loved it.  

I was thinking of buying an old motorcycle and fixing it up, remember when we almost died that summer trying to race our old ones around the block and the brakes gave out?

Thai food is definitely a yes.  So is Star Trek.  You’d be a gold shirt, I think I might too.

Bucky keeps the back of the book a secret, never writing one of these notes in front of another soul.  These were for him and for Steve alone, a reminder that, no matter where in time and space Steve Rogers was, Bucky would always be thinking of him, always growing that garden of blue and blond memories in his mind.

[fakeloveaskblog]

I think you. should ask Janus to "slither" over to your house! But also give him options! Like, "would you like to join me for dinner at my house? Or do you prefer to just go on a walk? How about we go to a fancy restaurant~ My treat~. Or maybe just enjoy each other's company at a park? You don't have to of course!"

(Words: 2095)

Logan: "Ah yes wonderful tactics stranger! This will surely be useless in my upcoming attempt!"

It was nearing the end of the day. Janus was closing up. Meanwhile Logan was trying to calm his nerves by reminding himself that he was objectivly very cool. He had on one of his best sweaters to look extra good (it had the tardis on it!).

"Alright. Looks like we can go home and have an existential crisis about the passage of time" Janus said motioning towards the exit.

Logan took a deep breathe before grabbing onto the sleeve of his crush' shirt "Please wait just a moment. How long have we known each other?"

"I guess since I started working here...so around 6 months? Please don't tell me you’re quitting! Work would just become soooo much more enjoyable"

"I was actually wondering if you mayhaps would like to accompany me on a so called 'hang out' during our leisure time...Today...Or some other day! If you want to! You don't have t-"

"No! No I would hate to!- Love! I mean I would love to!" Janus couldn't stop himself from grinning.

Logan flapped his hands in happiness "Good! So would you maybe like to go to the park nearby or-"

"No! Yes! Yes!"

"Great!"

Logan walked out of the library and held the door open for Janus. After quickly locking they walked towards the park. It was a simple small one. Just some trees, lots of grass, lots of people smoking grass, a pond, angry ducks, even angrier swans and exactly 1 ice cream shop.

All Logan wanted to do was take his crush' hand. It would be hard to do even if he tried to because Janus was constantly fiddling with his gloves. He was barely even looking at where he was walking.

"....I'm sorry for the weird way I talk sometimes" Janus quietly confessed "With the backwards talk. I kind of lie when I get nervous? I think?"

"Oh I know" Logan replied.

"You kNOw?" Janus' voice went up a tone.

"It is very noticeable but it is also quite charming if I may say so myself" It took a moment before he carefully added "Besides I have read that compulsive lying and also vitiligo can come from great stress or bad...events so even if I did not find it charming I wouldn't hold it against you either"

A small smile played on the edges of Janus' lips "Thanks"

"No need"

He took an impressively deep breathe before he stopped in the middle of the road and dramatically grabbed onto both of Logan's shoulders to stop him. He stood on his toes to make himself taller and stared into his love's eyes.

"I do not think you are also charming at all!!!" Janus very loudly announced.

Logan let up into a chuckle. He forced himself to keep eye contact "Well thank you"

Janus let go of him and kept walking very very quickly to try and distract from his red cheeks and heavy breathing. That was flirting right??? He had flirted??? He had done it??? He'd flirted??? The little voice in his head that he was starting to think was his self confidence trying to break through to him would be so proud!!!

“So would you perhaps like an ice cream in these trying times?” Logan asked. He was walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Oh right I would definitely love something high calorie that would just make me even more gross”

“Somehow your thick layer of sarcasm was the part of that sentence with the least falsehood in it. We can share one? Or if you get uncomfortable eating desserts in front of other people we don’t have-”

“SNAKE!” Janus interrupted him. 

He ran out into the grass of the park and hunched down to gently pick up a slippery snake. It was small enough to keep in one hand. He was repeatedly hitting his other arm against his leg and putting his fingers in uncomfortable positions.

Logan happily sat down next to him. Janus ungraciously shoved the snake right up near his face.

“It’s a baby northern watersnake! It’s not venomous I promise. It hunts fishes in the water. Isn’t that cool? It’s also one of the few species that doesn’t lay eggs! It can even put out musk to protect itself!! It’s so-”

He realized how much he was ranting and immediately forced himself to stop. He stopped his arm as well. He was so annoying.

“I apologize. Sometimes I just run my mouth and I do these stupid motions”

Logan boped his nose “The only stupid thing about that is you assuming I wouldn’t want to hear you rant. Or see you....stim...? I literally flapped my hands 5 minutes ago. I do not judge”

Janus shrugged at the stim question “My mother did always say that my father has adhd but that was in an insulting way. When I have done research on adhd I relate to a lot of it but it’s not like I have a diagnosis or anything”

“Bitchass mother” Logan mumbled under his breathe “I do not have diagnosed autism either but I do still now I have it.....Besides....Not to brag but I have both a deegre in both psychology and medicine so I can basically diagnose myself anyway”

Jan was already too overwhlemed to ask how the hell he had had the time for 2 bachelors deegre only to end up at a library.

“Anyhow we don’t have to talk about psychology...now...............maybe one day though” Logan did a little robotic evil laugh “For now maybe you can infodump about that snake, then we can get a shared ice cream and then I can infodump about glorious star trek. How’s that for a plan?”

His crush took a deep breathe before nodding. He stood up and cupped the snake in his hands. “You want to go to the pond don’t you little guy? Want to hunt and murder a few fishes don’t you?”

He turned to Logan and shuly said a few more facts while they went to the pond. He patted the snake on it’s head before carefully setting it down among the plants at the water’s edge.

The friends sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the snake as it looked for prey. (Though Logan spent most of the time adoring Janus’).

When the snake caught a small fish and swallowed it whole Janus broke out in happy flaps. He let out a happy squeal while pointing at it. Logan nodded back at him. He mimicked his flapping. 

He’d never seen Janus’ smile that brightly. Logan took his hand. Intertwining their fingers. They stimmed together until Lo pulled in his hand making his crush stumble into him. 

Jan sat with his head leaned against his chest. He looked up at Logan with blushing red cheeks. He forced himself to move back even if he didn’t want to.

“Sorry”

“No need” The nerd assured.

He stood up and held out his hand to help Janus up. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they walked towards the ice cream shop.

“To piss off homophobes” Janus lied up the explanation while motioning for their hand holding.

“Of course”

They ordered a scoop of lemon ice cream and sat down by the tables outside. Janus had taken off his gloves.  Their hands laid on top of each other. 

“Do you also have that experience where” Logan stopped to take a bite of ice cream “You categorize your life into what you were hyperfixated on at the time? For example I remember that when I met Patty I was into Doctor Who and right before then I was enjoying Sherlock Holmes”

Janus shrugged. He didn’t want to say that he had a hard time even remembering most of his life clearly “I can see the Doctor influence” He nodded towards his tardis sweater.

Logan’s eyes lit up “Oh have you seen it??? The ninth and fifth doctors are my favorite! Though as a bi man I can not ignore David Tennants’ everything”

“I have seen exactly 0″ 

“Well that is not a problem that can not be fixed! When I met Patty she hadn’t either- maybe because we were 12- but I show-”

Janus choked on his ice cream “12? Oh wow. For some reason I had assumed you were older”

“Oh no. She moved towns and started in my class. It was almost love at first sight. I stole flowers from my neighbor and invited her to see the movie everyone in town was talking about....Kung fu panda”

He broke out into a laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me Janny! It was an incredibly tactical decision. You see I knew she liked animals and the kung fu panda is a panda”

Janus doubled over the table while continuing to laugh “Me throwing popcorn at myself during my first hangout almost seems cool in conparison”

“Popcorn is usually hot. Not cooled down” Logan corrected. “Though to be honest the start of our relationship was sort of what you can call a ‘mess’ since as you already know both of us were foolish enough to think Patty was a guy. So suddenly I had to come to terms with liking guys. Until she told me she was a girl. So then I was straight. Until I met Thomas but that is a whole different story. It was like some people say a rollercoaster”

“Am I rude for finding that funny?”

“Yes incredibly and frankly you should be dragged to the guillotines right now”

Janus leaned closer to him with a sly smile on his face “Aw ~darling~ I didn’t know you could be sassy”

Logan did his best to hide how the nearly choked on his own spit “Yes I can indeed be if I want to. Just like how I have been able to have adequate facial expressions and voice tones and also eye contact during our whole hangout. Normally I only have a lot of expressions and tones if I am talking about hyperfixations or my wife”

“You don’t have to do that around me”

“Really? It does take a lot of energy to try and appear ‘normal’ but I was afraid of coming across as rude”

“Darling I find you lovely either way” Janus was going to pour up the biggest glass of fucking wine when he got home. He was a flirting machine!

“Oh okay” Logan relaxed his shoulders and started looking at a point right next to his shoulder instead of at his eyes. “Want to hear about Star trek the next generation? It’s the one with Data in it”

Janus squeezed his hand “I definitely have a very good idea about who that person is. Yes please tell me”

Logan went on a very very long infodump which Janus happily listened to (and did his best to reply to even though he didn’t know much). He was sure he would never get tired of hearing him talk. The ice cream nearly melted because they were both too busy with what he had to say.

“-And that is why the poetry actually have significance” Logan concluded after nearly half an hour.

“Well that sure sounds like an interesting series”

“I can show you it? Soon? I have it all on dvd”

“It’s a date- I uh I mean like planned thing not like romantic I mean-” Janus babbled out.

“I am aware of what you meant” He checked his watch “It is probably a good time for me to depart. It’s my turn on laundry today. I will get to categorize socks!”

“Wow. Sounds like a party”

Logan excitedly nodded. He stood up. Janus did as well. They looked down at their still connected hands. Jan was about to let go and simply leave but to his surprise Logan pulled him into a hug.

He leaned down and moved his arms around Janus’ waist. In return Jan quickly stood up on his toes and buried his head into his love’s shoulder. He breathed in his scent. Coffee and strawberry jam. He closed his eyes, taking in the moment.

“Janus, You are so special to me” Logan murmured while holding onto him as hard as he could.

“I- I love- I love being around you” He whispered back. Too afraid to say the truth.

Logan tried to memorise the way it felt to have him this close before letting go and taking a step back “Well I will see you tomorrow then”

“Can’t wait!”

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 1

I got some loose inspiration from @were-cheetah-stiles's "The College Years" so if you haven't read that then I highly suggest it! It's very good.

Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader with some OFC characteristics thrown in for spice

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

Warnings: Mentions of choking, character injury, implied death of a minor character, EMTs and stitches and such, swearing

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your hand is aching from the cramps of writing so many notes, your professor going a mile a minute, but making very little sense. You doodle in the margins of your college-ruled journal and stare into space, zoning out and giving up on following your professor's nonsense.

The clock ticked 5 minutes until class was over when your professor went apeshit. He stopped talking all of a sudden, standing straight as a board and looking off into the distance. He started slowly walking up through the students, eyeing each of them as he went by until he got to the row in front of you. He moved down the line until he stopped on a strawberry blonde girl, three seats to your left in the row in front of you. His hands slowly wrapped around her throat and that's when people started screaming.

People tried to pull him off of her but it was like he was glued to her skin, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The next tactic that people chose was to flee, they tried running out the doors but they came to see that the doors were in fact stuck and shaking on their hinges, the rattling echoing through the lecture hall. Your attention kept being drawn to a brunette, maybe 5"10 with moles scattered around his skin and eyes the color of amber.

The brunette stood, panicking for a moment like everyone else, but then sprung into action. Launching forwards he grabbed a chair and swung it towards the professor, the item stunning the man but not making him drop his grip. Your professor's attention then turned to him, eyes locking as you saw the man with moles' expression turn fearful. He ran back down to the front of the classroom and the professor followed him, eyes still glazed but now glowing with a green tint.

The man seemed to be struggling in the fight against your professor and since no one else seemed ready to help, you realized you were your classmates' last hope. You didn't want to use it but there wasn't much other choice, you focused your energy and watched as the light fixture above your professor began to swing and crack, sparks of electricity coming from where it meet the ceiling, before it came down in a large crash on top of your professor. You'd forgotten however to push your cute classmate out of the way, and you ran forwards to go check on him while the rest of your class pushed and shoved to get through the doors that were magically opened again now that the would-be murderer was down.

Walking over to the front of the room you saw your brave classmate staring at the ceiling in shock while he was clearly still processing the entire situation.

"You ok there?" Your voice echoed in the now empty room, Stiles' attention coming to rest on you. As he gaped for a moment, his mouth moving with no words, before he managed to regain some confidence.

"I uh, yeah. I mean no! Later! I-" You chuckled as he stuttered, mind moving faster than his mouth could handle and the flitting though of how glad you were that it was this boy's life that you'd saved.

"I'm not ok now but I will be later." He managed to finally articulate. Words falling out of his mouth as he continued to take in your appearance. He had no idea how he'd missed you before but damn had he been missing out. Your legs peaked out from the bottom of your jeans that you'd cuffed, socks with the words 'fuck off' printed on them peaked out from above your worn sneakers, much like his own.

"You really like Star Trek?" He questioned, pointing to your t-shirt. You laughed out loud at that being the first question he asked you, not something to do with your suddenly murderous professor or the seemingly random event of a light fixture falling from the ceiling.

"Yeah, why? You a Star Wars fan or something?" He puffed his chest out as much as he could from his position still sitting on the ground.

"And proud of it." He placed his hands on his hips and beamed as you walked closer to give him help getting up. He limped when he stood, something you noticed immediately and frowned upon realization.

"Did the light falling down injure you?" Your eyes were filled with concern for the man you'd just met, coming to scan his injured leg as he stood in front of you.

"Me? No I'm fine!" He winced as he took a step forward and you rushed to his side to help support him.

"Ok, so I might be a little bit hurt." He smiled shyly at you through his dark lashes, his tongue poking out to lick at his lips while he stared at you.

"Here sit down and I'll take a look." He hobbled over to the nearest chair upon your request, muscles relaxing as he took the pressure off his injured limb. You pulled his jeans up just slightly, exposing the ankle that had a shard of glass stuck in it. Maybe pulling down a lighting fixture wasn't your best idea. You hissed at the sight of the injury causing Stiles to glance down at his ankle, hissing as well at the sight of the glass sticking out from his skin.

"I'm sure someone called 911, an EMT should be here soon." You rolled his jeans back down to cover his injury, already hearing the faint sounds of sirens on campus.

"I'm never going to live this down." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. You giggled at the sight and he cracked a smile despite his pain from his pride in making you laugh.

"An FBI agent in training who gets hurt by a light. I'll be a laughing stock." He was over-selling his complaints, he knew he was most likely to receive praise for his actions rather than ridicule, but he liked how you laughed at his dramatics.

"Well..." You paused, realizing that despite being in class with him all year you didn't know the cute stranger's name.

"Stiles." He filled it in for you, smiling again as he held his hand out to shake yours.

"Well Stiles, I think you're a hero. At the very least you're not a coward." You shared a laugh as the sirens got closer and the police and EMT came through the door, interrupting your moment to get to know Stiles more.

The EMT had determined that he'd need to go to a hospital, and having nothing better to do, and wanting to get to know him more, you asked if you could go with.

"Sure, I still need to learn your name." You blushed at the awkward wink he sent you while on the stretcher, being lifted onto the cot that sat in the middle of the vehicle.

You and Stiles made small talk during the trip between his vitals getting checked and the EMT disinfecting his, now stinging, wound. You reached your hand down absentmindedly when Stiles first winced at the disinfectant, and he grabbed it without a second though, squeezing tightly as more anti-bacterials were added to the open wound.

At the hospital he'd had stitches, and you both watched as they removed the small shard of glass from his skin. You'd helped quietly by pushing the glass in the direction of the doctor's hand but Stiles didn't need to know that. After the stitches and a total of three hours later Stiles was discharged and on his way back to campus with you on his arm. He'd had crutches, a precaution, and despite your suggestions he threw them in the trunk of the Uber you'd called and didn't use them at all while walking back to his dorm.

"Well here we are. Room 15, thanks for walking me to my dorm, and for going to the hospital with me, and everything else. Despite the almost-murderer professor, today didn't actually suck that much." You laughed at his statement and waved him goodbye as he limped into his dorm room to an only minutely concerned Scott.

"Who was that?" Scott asked in a sing-song voice as he took the crutches from Stiles' hand without complaint.

"That, was my guardian angel." He slumped along the door, coming to sit on the floor in a haze of your memory.

"Does your guardian angel have a name?" He heard is werewolf friend ask while digging through Stiles' wardrobe for shorts that wouldn't brush against his stitches.

"Her name is Y/n and she was with me at the hospital the whole time. Scott she's awesome, you have to meet her." He stood up gently, stumbling over to his bed to change from his blue jeans to the basketball shorts that Scott had pulled out for him, per doctor's request.

Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend's romantic nature, knowing it was probably just being there for him in a crisis that made you so attractive to Stiles. Scott didn't get a look at you, meaning he had only the basis of what Stiles' personal preferences were for figuring out what you looked like. He assumed you looked similar to a familiar ginger that had broken up with Stiles not long ago, he was wrong.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

I really want a sterek scene stealer AU that’s the episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Blood Fever (Season 3 Episode 16). Derek would be B'Elanna – a half-Klingon who finds himself experiencing symptoms of the Pon farr (a point in a Vulcan’s life where their disciplined logic is overwhelmed by emotion and instinct as they’re driven to return to Vulcan and take a mate) after being mentally bound to a young Vulcan – Jennifer Blake – who’s undergoing it. Stiles would be Lieutenant Parris, a human who everyone thinks is cocky and a womanizer, but he’s been hiding his feelings for Derek for a long time.

They make their way down to a planet to collect gallicite when the side effects of the Pon farr begin to take its toll on Derek; he becomes irritated and aggressive.

As the away team – Derek, Stiles and Scott – go rig up their gear and descend into the caverns and collapsed tunnels, Scott’s piton gives way and he falls. Derek and Stiles hurry down after him. Derek loses it, he starts shouting at Scott for being irresponsible but Stiles argues that Scott did nothing wrong; either the gear was faulty or the rock gave way. He says they should contact the ship, but Derek is determined to finish the mission – his anger growing – and when Stiles reaches out to stop him, Derek wheels around and bites Stiles’ cheek before taking off into the tunnels.

Stiles contacts the ship and tells them what happened.

“He’s either out of communications range or just not responding,” Stiles says. “His last known position was ten meters below our current position. I tried to stop him from leaving, Captain, but he got hostile and bit me.”

“He bit you?” Commander Parrish repeats, stunned.

“And he seemed to be enjoying it, in a Klingon kind of way.”

Boyd – another Vulcan on the ship – deduces what’s happened. He and Commander Parrish beam down to the planet to help get Scott medical treatment before going after Derek.

Boyd explains that the Pon farr can be fatal if the urges are not addressed, they set out after Derek—he’s after the gallicite, so they hope that following it will lead them to Derek.

Stiles is the first to find Derek, and when he does, he seems his normal self for a moment; not angry or irritated, but excited to have found the resources they came for.

“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” Boyd asks, approaching Derek carefully.

“Fine.”

“We need to get you back to the ship,” Commander Parrish says.

“Why?”

“You are experiencing a condition known as Pon farr,” Boyd explained.

“Pon what?”

“Your emotional balance has been disrupted. You may not be in control of your more aggressive instincts.”

“I lost my temper for a moment, that’s all,” Derek said. He glances between them noticing the urgency and worry in their eyes. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Please come back to the ship with us,” Boyd says, insistent. He takes a step forward.

“Just leave me alone!”

They freeze as members of an alien species step out of the shadows.

Parrish is able to calm them down, explaining they have no ill-intent, but the alien nods towards Derek. “He does.”

“He’s suffering from a chemical imbalance which is effecting his behaviour,” Parrish explains. “We’d be happy to take him and leave your territory.”

But before they can react, Derek lashes out, fighting off one of the aliens.

“Derek, stop!” Stiles says, grabbing Derek by the shoulder.

The two fall to the ground.

The cave walls rumble and the earth beneath them shakes.

Stiles looks up to see the ceiling crumbling.

“Derek!” he shouts, grabbing him and pulling him aside as the walls cave in and the ground falls from beneath them. When the dust settles, it’s just Stiles and Derek.

Stiles steadies Derek, checking on him. He has a cut on his arm and his head, but he’s conscious.

“We have to get back to the ship,” Stiles says.

“We can’t leave Boyd and Parrish down here,” Derek argues.

“The minerals in the walls inhibit the tricorders; we can’t scan for life signs or a way out. Out best chance is to get back to the ship and get some help, for them and for you.”

“Why does everybody keep saying there’s something wrong with me?”

Stiles does his best to explain what’s happening as they make their way through the tunnels, trying to get back to the surface.

“Boyd’s got to be wrong about this. It doesn’t make sense,” Derek argues.

“It does explain how you’ve been acting,” Stiles counters.

“I don’t see what’s so strange,” Derek says defensively.

“How about starting a fight with a group of armed aliens, shouting at Scott, giving me this—” He points at his cheek which is still bloodied from where Derek had bit him. “—and if I remember my Klingon customs correctly, biting someone on the face means—”

“I know what it means,” Derek cuts him off. 

It’s a way of a Klingon choosing a mate, he thinks. 

“Alright. Maybe I do feel something, some kind of instinct. What am I supposed to do about it?”

“When we get back to the ship, the doctor should be able to help,” Stiles reassures him.

Derek stops at a dead end, positioning the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and aiming at the rock.

“Whoa!” Stiles says, grabbing the end of the rifle and pointing it down—stopping Derek from firing. “We don't know how stable this tunnel is. An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads.”

“Let go!” Derek growls, trying to pull the rifle out of Stiles’ grip, but Stiles resists him, taking the rifle.

“No. I think I should keep this.”

Derek tightens his grip on it, jerking it to the side and throwing Stiles back against the rocky wall, pinning him there.

“Never pick a fight with a Klingon, Stiles.”

“I'm not going to fight with you, Derek,” Stiles says, keeping his voice level and calm.

Derek’s voice is low, threatening; his eyes dark and filled with bloodlust. “Afraid I'll break your arm? You should be.”

“Derek, stop it! This isn't about the gun. This is about sex. But that's not gonna happen right now.”

A smirk turns up Derek’s lips as he leans in close and breathlessly says, “I think it is. See, I have picked up your scent, Stiles. I've tasted your blood.”

“No,” Stiles says firmly. “I'm your friend, and I have to watch out for you when your judgement's been impaired. If you let these instincts take over now, you'll hate yourself, and me too for taking advantage of you. I won't do that.”

Derek pulls back. “Maybe we should split up.”

“No.”

“You don't know how strong, how hard it is to fight this urge.”

“Are you telling me that I'm impossible to resist?” Stiles says teasingly.

Derek levels him with an unamused look. “I wouldn't go that far.”

“Good. Come on.”

They continue on down the tunnels. The walls start to rumble again.

Stiles pulls Derek into a small cavern, just as the tunnel caves in behind them, trapping them.

“We should use that weapon. It's worth the risk now,” Derek says.

“I might agree with you if I still had it. It's buried somewhere under all that,” Stiles says, nodding towards the caved in tunnel.

“What?”

“Sorry. Try to stay calm. I know it's hard.”

“You don't know anything. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. I need to do something. I can't take this.”

He pushes Stiles to the ground, straddling him.

Stiles pushes him off, standing up.

“You've never been hard to get, Stiles,” Derek said, rising to his feet.

“Well, I'm making an exception. I can't let you do this.”

“Oh, I bet you wish you could. All those invitations to dinner. And on the holodeck, the way you would stare at me when you thought I wasn't looking, and get jealous when I'm with someone else. You can't tell me you're not interested in me.”

“You're right. I can't,” Stiles admits.

“Then don't push me away,” Derek whispers, stepping closer to Stiles.

“Oh, believe me, I'd like to, but I know this isn't really you. You've made it clear that you're not interested, and I have to accept that's how you feel, even now.”

“No,” Derek said quietly. “No, it isn't… I was just afraid to admit it… I've wanted this for so long.”

He leans forward, bringing their lips together.

“Just let it happen,” Derek whispers as he pulls back from the kiss slightly.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Stiles walks him back until Derek’s back is pressed against the cavern wall. He slowly draws back from the kiss, his face still close to Derek’s and his voice barely more than a whisper as he says, “I hope someday you'll say that to me and mean it.”

Derek shoves him back, enraged. “You'd let me go insane rather than help me?”

“You know that's not true.”

“Just stay away from me,” Derek shouts, sinking down to the floor and curling up in the corner.

A little while later, Derek lifts his head, looking around. His voice is quiet, confused, as he asks, “Where are we?”

“Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid,” Stiles tells him.

“The cave?” Derek tries to think. “The gallicite. Where's my tricorder?”

“We're not looking for the gallicite anymore. We're trying to get back to the ship, remember?” Stiles prompts, his voice soft and calming.

Derek looks even more confused. “No, I don't.”

There’s a loud crash as one of the large rocks falls away from the wall. Stiles steps away from Derek, helping whoever it is on the other side push aside the rocks.

Parrish’s face appears in the hole. “Are you two alright?”

“Derek needs help. We've got to get him out of here.”

Once they’re back on the surface, they try to contact the ship, but there’s no response.

“There must be some kind of communications problem. I'm sure they'll clear it up soon,” Parrish says.

Boyd looks at Derek. “It may not be soon enough. I am concerned about the rapid progression of his symptoms.” He looks at Stiles. “You must help him now, Mister Stilinski. If he does not resolve the Pon farr, he will die.”

Stiles lets out a sigh. Parrish and Boyd leave them alone. Stiles walks over to where Derek’s sitting, huddled near the entrance of the cave. He kneels before him.

“Derek, I know this is a pretty bizarre situation, probably not what either one of us had in mind, but it's too late to worry about that now.”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet.”

Derek takes Stiles’ hand and leads him into the underbrush. In a small clearing, Derek pulls Stiles close, brushing his face against Stiles’ wrist to feel his pulse before nuzzling his face into Stiles’ neck.

“Is this the part where you throw heavy objects at me?” Stiles says teasingly.

“Maybe later,” Derek mutters, his voice slurred as he loses himself in the moment.

“I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to do,” Stiles admits, but when Derek doesn’t respond, he mirrors Derek’s actions, taking Derek’s hand in his and brushing his lips against his wrist before burying his face in the curve of Derek’s neck, letting out a low, animalistic growl.

Derek throws Stiles to the ground, straddling him and pinning his hands above his head.

Stiles doesn’t resist.

Derek looks confused. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself?” Stiles replies.

“Then show it.”

Stiles smirks, flipping Derek on his back and pinning him to the ground. They roll around, struggling the way Klingons do when a branch snaps and a familiar voice shouts, “You are my mate, not his!”

“What are you doing here?” Derek shouts, glaring at Jennifer as he and Stiles rise to their feet. Stiles steadies Derek, the man weakened by the Pon farr.

“I've come to claim you, to fulfil our bond, and if necessary, to face my rival,” she says, glaring at Stiles.

Parrish and Boyd step into the clearing, following the sound of shouting.

“I declare Koon-ut-kal-if-fee,” Jennifer announces.

“The ritual challenge,” Boyd explains. “She intends to fight to win her mate.”

“You want a fight? You've got one,” Stiles challenged.

“Hold on, Stiles. There's not going to be any challenge,” Parrish says calmly, stepping between them. “Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?” he asks Jennifer.

“It was necessary to disable the communications, transporters and shuttles,” she says. “No one will keep me from my mate.”

“I am not your mate!” Derek growls.

“We will soon decide that.”

“If anyone is going to smash your arrogant little face in, I will! I take your challenge myself.”

Parrish and Stiles look to Boyd.

“She has the right to choose her own defender, even herself,” he says. “Both must resolve their Pon farr before it kills them. I see no alternative but to follow Vulcan tradition.”

“Alright,” Parrish reluctantly agrees.

Derek and Jennifer fight. They’re evenly matched—throwing punches and kicks. The two fall to the ground, wrestling and struggling as they exchange blows until finally Jennifer collapses, unable to get up. Derek staggers back, completely disorientated. He falls into Stiles’ arms.

“Is it over?” Stiles asks, worried.

“The blood fever has been purged,” Boyd says. “It is over.”

   Later, once Derek has recovered, they return to their duties. Derek is in the turbolift as the doors open for Stiles.

Stiles steps into the turbolift, the awkward tension filling the air.

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Stiles says, trying to break the awkward silence. “Back on duty?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Derek says. “And yes. The warp coils should be good as new by the end of the week.

“Oh, good. Glad to hear it.” He pauses. “Computer, halt turbolift.”

The turbolift stops.

Stiles turns to Derek. “Look, this is ridiculous. We are going to be together on this ship for a long time.”

“You're right. We have to pretend that the whole thing didn't happen.”

“But something did happen, Derek.”

“Look, Stiles, I really appreciate what you did—what you were willing to do—for me. But as far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance, and, and whatever I did, whatever I said, it wasn't me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side might have been showing. Well, I saw it up close, and you know, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday.” He turns away, hiding his smirk as he says, “Computer, resume.”

The turbolift slows. The doors open and Derek steps out.

“Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant,” he says over his shoulder, leaving Stiles stunned as the turbolift doors close.

[crobby]

i’ve got your back

for @broskepol

summary: peter and tony have a phrase they use whenever peter’s in danger and can’t outright say it. they have to use it more often than either would like.

word count: 2767

The bell signaling the end of the school day is a wonderful sound to Peter, who’s been practically dying to go out as Spider-Man since third period. He takes up a brisk walk, trying to make it outside as quickly as possible without full-on sprinting.

“Hey, Peter,” Betty calls out, jogging through the hall to catch up with him.

Peter waits for her, eyeing the clock on the wall. “What’s up?”

“There’s a party at Flash’s house this weekend and he told me I could invite whoever I want, so I’m inviting you. Do you wanna come?” 

Peter hesitates. “You know that Flash kind of hates me, right?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Betty says, flicking her hand.

Peter narrows his eyes. “Penis Parker ring a bell?”

“Okay,” she concedes, “Maybe you’re not his favorite person. But I still think you should come. It’ll be fun! Also, I doubt you’ll even have to talk to him--a ton of people will be there, so you can totally avoid him.”

“I… guess?” Peter rubs the back of his neck. He’s not really sure why Betty’s so insistent that he be there. He thinks it might be her way of trying to become his friend, which he’s definitely okay with. Having friends is nice. 

He shrugs. “Why not? I’ll be there. Text me the deets, yeah?”

Betty grins. “For sure! I’ll see you there!” She turns to walk back down the hall, waving at him.

Peter smiles to himself. Huh, he thinks, a party. I got invited to a party. Maybe his social life isn’t so doomed, after all.

---

Nope, his social life is forever doomed. He can’t just be normal and talk to people. It’s like the universe singled him out and said “You! You’re going to be a loser!” and, frankly, he’s tired of it. He wishes Ned or MJ were here, but Ned’s babysitting his baby cousin and MJ’s out of town. If they were here, he wouldn’t be struggling so much.

There’s music blaring and lights flashing and both are too much for his enhanced senses. There’s so much kinetic energy in the room that Peter can almost feel it. It’s hot. He’s schvitzing. He doesn’t like to schvitz.

He’s just about to call it quits and head home when he hears Flash’s voice above everything else.

“Hey, Parker!” Flash comes to stand in front of him.

Peter groans. “What, Flash?”

“Have you ever played a drinking game?”

Peter furrows his brow. “No, of course not. I’m underage.”

“So? That doesn’t stop, like, every other teenager.”

“I don’t know, Flash…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun. This is an olive branch, man. You gonna take it?”

Flash must be tipsy, already, if he’s trying to play nice with Peter. He’s pretty sure Flash is joking about the ‘olive branch’ thing, but still.

“You should loosen up,” Flash says, “Learn to live a little.”

“I--” Peter starts to object. Then, “Alright. I’ll do it. What’s the game?”

“It’s called Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Duck?” Peter laughs. “Come on.”

“No, really! I’ll explain it when everyone’s listening.”

Flash leads him back to a corner full of couches. A bunch of people are already there, some Peter recognizes and others he doesn’t.

Flash takes a seat in the middle of the biggest couch, while Peter perches on the arm of another couch next to some people he’s pretty sure are in his trig class.

“Okay, so we’ve got to get in a circle--which, we already are--and I’ll start by saying ‘fuzzy duck’ to the person to my left. It’ll keep going like that, saying ‘fuzzy duck’ to the person to your left, until someone says ‘does he’. Then, the person to the right of that person has to say ‘ducky fuzz’ and then it’ll keep going in that direction--to the right--with people saying ‘ducky fuzz’ until someone says ‘does he’ again. At that point, the direction switches again and people go back to saying ‘fuzzy duck’ until the next time someone says ‘does he’ again. It’ll just go back and forth like that. Anytime anyone messes up whatever they’re supposed to say, they have to drink.”

There are a few vaguely confused nods.

“It’ll make sense when we get into it,” Flash assures them.

He turns to the girl to his left, “Fuzzy duck,” he says, entirely seriously.

She turns to the girl next to her. “Fuzzy duck.”

Eventually--and after many mess-ups and subsequent drinks--they reach Peter, who, in true idiot fashion, blurts: “Duzzy fuck.”

Everyone’s laughter ringing in his ears, he downs a gulp of whatever Flash handed him. He smacks his lips, unused to the bitter taste of alcohol. As the game continues--and Peter drinks more--he feels his throat get warm and his brain go fuzzy. Fuzzy, like the ducks, he thinks. 

At least he isn’t such a nervous wreck anymore--he hasn’t felt so relaxed in a long time. He doesn’t even think before saying things, which is wild. 

He jumps when Iron Man by Black Sabbath starts blasting out of his back pocket. He scrambles to grab his phone, recognizing the ringtone. More specifically, who it belongs to. Mr. Stark shines up at him, along with a photo he and Tony had taken the day they made his internship official. 

Peter brings the phone up to his ear, the noise of the party loud in the background. “Uhh, hey, Mr. St’rk.” Woah, since when are his words so slurred?

Tony doesn’t seem to notice. “Hey kid, I was just calling to see if you wanted to bring the suit by tomorrow. I’ve got something I wanna try out. Happy can pick you up from May’s.” 

“That--that’d be great, Mr. St’rk.”

People are starting to look at him, wondering who on Earth he’s calling ‘Mr. Stark’. Peter would very much like to go home now, thanks. Drinking’s not so fun when you have to make normal conversation with your mentor/father figure/it’s complicated guy in front of a crowd. 

“Are you good, Pete? It sounds like there’s a lot going on over there. Are you at a party?”

“Pshhhh, no. Are you at a party?”

“Why would I be at a--”

Peter cuts him off. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“You know I have. What’s going on with you, Peter? Is everything alright?”

“D’you remember when the Starfleet came to help the rebels in episode 5?”

“Okay, you’d never mix up Star Wars and Star Trek. That’s it, I’m coming to get you. FRIDAY, what’s his location?” 

Peter hears FRIDAY give Tony Flash’s address in the background, extremely grateful that Tony realized something was up. He didn’t want to outright say anything--he’s trying to get these people to like him, not think he’s some kind of weirdo who needs to be picked up early from a high school party.

A few minutes later, Peter receives a text from Tony.

I’m here.

Peter quickly stands up and immediately regrets it when his vision swims. He takes a second to get his head on straight before stepping back from the circle. “Thanks for the party, Flash. I’ve gotta jet,” He gestures towards the door with his thumb before taking off. Well, he staggers towards the door more than anything, still figuring out how to actually do things while under the influence.

Tony’s standing next to one of his Audis when Peter finally makes his way outside, leaning against it with a concerned frown on his face. He stands up straight when he sees Peter, making a beeline towards him and checking him for injuries. Peter lets him, knowing that Tony will calm down if he sees for himself that Peter’s unharmed. Tony nods to himself, seemingly satisfied with Peter’s lack of injuries, before pulling him into a tight hug. Smushed against Tony’s chest, Peter smiles. Peter knows that Tony cares about him, but it’s still nice to get a physical reminder of that fact. Tony pulls back, keeping his hands on Peter’s shoulders. 

“What happened?”

“Well, I--”

“You smell like alcohol,” Tony interrupts, “Why do you smell like alcohol?”

Peter shoots him a pair of finger-guns. “That might be all the alcohol I drank.”

Tony sighs. “Let’s get you home, yeah? We can talk about this when you’re sober.”

Peter looks down. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. Believe me,” Tony offers him a half-smile, “I get it. But it’s still something we need to talk about. You, me, and May.”

“‘Kay,”

Tony leads him to the car, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Throughout the whole drive back to the apartment, he keeps checking up on Peter through the rear-view mirror. He tries to start some idle conversation but drops it when he realizes that Peter’s too worn out to be all that interested in responding.

They pull up to the curb outside of the apartment building and Tony helps Peter up to his apartment, one arm around his shoulders. He uses his free arm to knock on the door. 

May answers. “Tony? What’re you doing here? It’s really late.” In her tired state, she fails to notice Peter until Tony gestures to him. “Aw, hon, what’s wrong?”

Peter slides out from under Tony’s grip to fall into her arms. She immediately grasps him in a hug, mouthing Is he okay? to Tony, who mimes drinking. May nods in understanding, mouthing Thank you.

Tony smiles. “I’m gonna get out of your hair. The kiddo needs a good night’s sleep.”

“G’night, Mr. St’rk,” Peter says, his voice muffled.

Tony looks at him fondly, his eyes soft. “Goodnight, Pete. You, too, May.”

Peter hums before falling asleep on May’s shoulder.

---

Months later, Peter’s briskly walking out of school again. This time, his interruption is a chloroform towel pressed against his mouth, rather than a (un?)friendly invite to a party. He drops like a sack of bricks into the arms of a man, out cold.

---

Peter wakes up in an abandoned warehouse, his arms tied up above his head and his limbs aching. He presses his wrists against their bindings, sure that he could easily break through them if he tried. He can’t, though, because that would reveal his identity--or, at least, the fact that he has super-strength. He’ll do it if he has to--but not until he knows there’s no other option. 

He hears two sets of footfalls coming from behind the door across the room.

A man and a woman enter through the door, both wearing a bandana over their nose and mouth. They stop in front of Peter. 

The woman crosses her arms. “We want information. You’re going to give it to us.”

Peter stares, eyebrows raised. 

“We’re replicating the arc rector,” she says, “We’ve almost got it, but there’s something missing. You intern for Stark. We know you’ll know.” She dives into an explanation of their design and what went wrong. At the end of her speech, she looks at Peter expectantly.

Peter frowns. “I don’t know, actually.”

The woman slaps him across the face. His head jerks at the motion, his cheek stinging.

“This isn’t how I wanted this evening to go,” she says, “You were supposed to tell us everything. You will tell us everything.” She exits the room, returning with a large case.

She places it on a table and opens it to reveal a collection of knives and such. 

Peter doesn’t like the way this is going.

She runs her hand over the many knives. “Will you tell us what we want to know, now?”

Peter tries to think of a way for him to get out of here without revealing his identity, but he falls up short. It looks like he might have to kiss his anonymity goodbye. 

He’s mentally preparing himself to break his restraints and fight his way out of the warehouse when a phone rings loudly.

The sound is coming from the man’s pocket. He pulls the phone out. Peter recognizes his case. Since when do they have his phone? He guesses they took it when they grabbed him.

“It’s for you,” the man grunts. Peter can’t help but think that he sounds like he gargled cement. “No caller ID.”

The woman tilts her head. “Let him answer.”

The man lodges the phone in between Peter’s raised shoulder and his head before stepping back.

“Hey, Pete, you’re in a weird location. Just calling to check up on you--made sure there was no caller ID, just in case you’re with someone. Is everything alright?”

Peter glances up at his kidnappers, who are glaring at him. He can’t say anything that implies that he’s not alright unless he wants them to hurt him.

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. I was actually just thinking about.... uh,” he thinks back to the party when he was in a similar situation where he couldn’t say anything outright, “Star Wars. D’you remember when the Starfleet came to help the rebels in, uh, episode 5?”

Tony pauses. “Wait, so you are in trouble?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Tony’s voice sounds strained. “I’ve got your location. Sit tight, I’m coming to get you.”

Peter tries not to slump over in relief, because that would definitely alert his kidnappers. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Peter hears the Iron Man suit power-up in the background.

“Okay, that’s enough,” the woman snatches the phone out of Peter’s hand and ends the call. She drops it just out of Peter’s reach.

Peter purses his lips. As Spider-Man, he’d make a quip and get out of here without Tony’s help. As Peter Parker, though? He can’t bring himself to say or do much of anything. It’s different, being in this situation without the mask. Normally, he’d have it handled in no time. Now, though, everything just feels… different. Off. He feels stuck.

The woman takes a step towards him. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time: what’s the secret? We’ve got it all figured out, except for one part. You know what’s missing--I know you do--so you better tell us before I bring out the big guns.” She gestures to the case.

Those aren’t guns, Peter thinks, those are knives. “I don’t know. I don’t work on arc reactors. I’m an intern, I bring people coffee.”

The woman scoffs. “Stark wouldn’t hire a high school intern unless you were something special. Tell us, or so help me God I will make you.” She picks up a thick knife and brandishes it threateningly. 

Peter’s heart rate skyrockets. Then, he hears the sound of repulsors.

Tony smashes through a wall, terrifying Peter’s kidnappers. Peter grins in relief.

“Really guys?” Tony says, his voice robotic through the suit, “You thought you could steal my kid and get away with it?” He flies over to grab Peter, who snaps the restraints like they're rubber bands. Tony picks him up around the armpits. “Have a terrible night,” he says before shooting into the night.

Peter looks up at him. “Mr. Stark, won’t they get away?”

“The police are almost there. They won’t make it out in time. How are you? Any injuries?”

“I’m all good--nothing worse than I get on patrol, anyway. I’m really glad you called, ‘cause I thought I was gonna have to reveal my identity for a second there.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. Where am I bringing you? Home?”

“Yeah, home sounds nice.”

Tony flies him to his apartment building, letting him down gently before retracting the suit. He gestures for Peter to start heading inside. 

They make their way up the stairs and knock on the door. May opens it, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

She looks up at them and balks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Minor kidnapping, nothing too serious,” Tony jokes.

May smacks him on the arm, “That’s not something to laugh about.” She pulls them both into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you for saving him.”

She pulls back to smack Peter’s arm. “And you! Why didn’t you save yourself? What’s the point of those spider powers if you don’t use them?”

Peter shrugs. “Secret identity.”

May considers it. “Okay, that’s a valid reason.”

She pulls them both into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Peter lets himself melt into the embrace, always happy to be with both of his adults. “Can we watch Star Wars?”

May and Tony share a fond look.

“Of course,” she says.

And if the three of them stay up all night binge-watching every Star Wars movie, no one has to know.

[jkl-fff]

Dipper and Norman, #50

Thanks for the prompt!

Comedy Golem

It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.

Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”

“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”

“Of course you did.”

“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”

Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”

“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”

“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”

“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”

Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”

“Works for me.”

“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”

That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”

“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”

“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”

“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.

“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”

Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”

“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.

“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”

“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.

Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”

“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”

***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”

“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.

Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.

“Look, I realize—”

“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”

“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”

“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”

“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”

“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”

“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”

“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.

“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”

“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”

“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.

“… I hate you soo much right now.”

Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”

Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”

“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”

Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”

“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”

“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”

“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”

“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”

“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”

“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”

“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”

“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).

“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”

“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”

Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”

“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.

“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”

Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”

“A resort, I think.”

“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”

“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You haven’t even answered my question.”

“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren’t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”

“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”

“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”

Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”

“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”

“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.

“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”

Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”

Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.

“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”

“Deal!”

“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”

“Deal!”

“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”

“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”

Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”

[theonlinemuse]

And me and @freckledpianoman are back with more Beth Chapel content! Continuing from this post, here’s even more headcanons about our favourite Dr Mid-Nite: 

Beth is nearsighted and started wearing glasses when she was three and a half. Bridget started noticing that her daughter kept squinting all the time and eventually took her to an eye doctor, attributing Beth needing glasses so early to all the times that she hid under the covers with a flashlight and read late into the night instead of sleeping 

Her prescription is really strong and while her glasses correct most of her vision, she still needs accommodations like enlarged and high contrast texts and other visual aids 

Chuck eventually becomes another accommodation since he acts as a cross between telescopic and magnifying glasses and a talking watch 

She’s fluent in French thanks to her grandma Beatrice’s influence and she can carry a conversation in Spanish (she picked it up from Bridget, who often talks with her patients in Spanish) and Norwegian. That last language throws people off when they first hear about it, but it comes in handy when four-year-old Pieter Cross and his family (who don’t speak much English) move to Blue Valley from Trondheim, Norway 

Yolanda grumbles about not being able to talk to Beth in Spanish class whenever she’s home sick from school because she's the one decent conversation partner she has in that class

Rick often practices translating for his French class with Beth. Once he goofed and said “madame le docteur”. And poor Beth was close to shaking him and going, “Rick, that's wrong on so many levels” 

He knows by the incredulous look on her face that he’s all sorts of wrong and he blushes all embarrassed. But later he mistranslates on purpose just to see her adorable reactions 

She wants to pick up more languages eventually (she’s deciding if she wants to take both Mandarin and Arabic in college like her dad did) and is currently learning ASL 

Beth is a Star Trek fan thanks to her dad’s influence. She and James would watch reruns of Deep Space Nine while she was growing up and it was their way of bonding. While that tradition didn’t happen as often when Beth started high school, she and Yolanda (who had watched Voyager with her brother and cousins) eventually start a tradition of watching Star Trek Discovery 

Beth and Yolanda’s love for Star Trek is often a point of contention with Rick and Courtney, who are both Star Wars fans. It’s been the subject of a lot of arguments about what to watch for JSA marathons. Pat is usually the tie breaker 

Beth learned how to garden from her grandma Beatrice, who raises African violets in her rooftop garden. Beth’s backyard isn’t big enough for a garden so instead she keeps all sorts of plants in her room, including little teacup succulents on her bedroom windowsill and in honeycomb shelves 

While her backyard’s too small for a garden, there’s a pink dogwood tree and she loves reading and having picnics under it when it’s in bloom. In the summer Beth makes her own butterfly feeders and hang them from the tree and watch the butterflies gather 

She grew up listening to Schoolhouse Rock thanks to her dad, who would play their songs in the kitchen whenever he made breakfast on Saturday mornings while she was growing up. Even now, Beth sings along to them whenever she hears them and Chuck starting adding them to karaoke mode, including her favourites “Three is a Magic Number”, “The Tale of Mr Morton”, and “The Energy Blues” 

When she was in middle school, she started using the melody of Schoolhouse Rock songs to memorize things like country names and the periodic table. She used the latter to help Rick memorize different elements for his chem class. Yolanda actually caught Rick softly singing to himself at his locker when he was searching for his notes for one last read through 

“Beth got you to sing? Willingly?” “I wasn't singing, you’re hearing things.”

Courtney is weirded out by the fact that Beths texts with Mike of all people, but it's mostly through gifs, emojis, and random memes. She has no idea what they even talk about, saying that Beth texts with Mike more often than she does with Rick, much to the latter’s annoyance. In reality Beth and Mike talk about robotics competitions, the latest episode of whatever they were binging (this week was Julie and the Phantoms), and their ongoing bet on when Courtney and Yolanda will finally get together

If Beth wins, Mike has to help upgrade her costume and if he wins, she owes him an ice cream cake 

“It's like their own little nerd language, it makes no sense.” 

Her style icon when she was little was Ms Frizzle. Beth thought that Ms Frizzle’s themed dresses and jewellery were so cool and she wanted to dress up like her. She still loves Ms Frizzle’s style and you can see the influence it has on Beth’s fashion from bright colours, unique patterns, and quirky jewellery 

Beth has a special section in her closet for Ms Frizzle like outfits that she wears to the children’s library she volunteers at. It makes her very popular with the kids there 

She actually dressed up as Ms Frizzle for Halloween in seventh grade 

Despite being on opposite sides, Beth and Cindy have a begrudging respect for each other similar to Betty and Wilhelmina’s relationship on Ugly Betty, Beth being the JSA member that Cindy tolerates the most

Cindy begrudgingly thinks that she does know a thing or two about fashion because she often upcycles clothes. Courtney’s surprised that Beth’s still alive after she said that Cindy dresses like an evil PTA mom within earshot, though she did kidnap Beth a few times for a shopping spree 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!” “Did you just quote Mean Girls?”  

The first time they had a standoff, Cindy went “please, I’m Japanese, you’re Black, we’re not talking around this thing like a couple of dull white people” 

Cindy once called Rick a feral raccoon and smirked when it made Beth accidentally burst out laughing 

While Beth is more than confident with her personal style, but she’s still very new to makeup in general. Yolanda and Artemis (even Cindy much to everyone’s shock) have taken it upon themselves to help experiment with makeup and find out what she likes. Beth immediately knows that she doesn’t like mascara, even as Yolanda scolds her to stay still while she’s trying to put mascara on her

“You’re making it seem like I’m torturing you.” “Your superhero costume has claws, that doesn’t exactly scream safe.” “I’ll have you know I’m very practiced with my claws, now stay still!” 

Beth likes the lipsticks and glosses much better, she likes the different colours and how it feels on her lips 

She has to get used to the feeling of makeup on her face in general, but she doesn’t mind it and she’s shocked when she looks in the mirror. It’s still very much her, but it's like she’s glowing. She can’t stop smiling and the girls all look at her fondly 

And they also exchange knowing looks, knowing that Rick is going to lose his mind 

She did a history report on Bessie Coleman in middle school and she eventually drew inspiration for her Dr Mid-Nite costume from looking at photos of Bessie’s pilot outfit 

Beth and her mom often did ceramics classes when she was a kid. They weren’t very good at it at first, but the little lopsided knick knacks they made always made them laugh. Beth and Bridget got better over the years with Beth painting colours and patterns on whatever her mom helped her make before they went into the kiln. She thought they would be plain otherwise and Bridget agreed with her 

While ceramics classes have since stopped, they still use the honeycomb mugs and planters that they made and painted when Beth was in middle school. Bridget uses one for the aloe vera plant she keeps in her office at the hospital 

Beth is allergic to pineapple. She found out during a school trip in third grade when Henry offered some of his fruit salad and she ended up with a swollen face and tongue, which really freaked Artemis and Cindy out. Yolanda and the villain kids ended up taking care of her until the ambulance came and Beth jokes that it was the one time the JSA and ISA kids worked together on something 

She now carries an epipen in her backpack and Rick has taken to carrying a backup one in his jacket in case Beth can’t get to her backpack in time 

She had a stargazing phase that she never grew out of. Her parents got her a mini telescope for her fifth birthday and Bridget started teaching her about the solar system before Beth started learning about constellations on her own. Bridget jokes that if her daughter hadn’t been set on becoming a doctor, she would’ve gone into astrophysics 

Beth still has a telescope set up by her bedroom window. Sometimes when she has trouble sleeping and she’s not in the mood to read, she’ll look for constellations through the telescope while Chuck chimes in with little known star facts 

She also has a starry globe nightlight and a constellation globe

She and Rick sometimes have stargazing “dates” out on her back porch. They curl up together in a patio chair with midnight snacks while they watch meteor showers. Sometimes Yolanda and Courtney will join them, curled up together in the other patio chair  

Beth and Courtney often have karaoke nights at the Pit Stop after Pat souped up Barbara’s old karaoke machine. The usual playlist includes fun 80s and 90s jams as well as modern songs like Bruno Mars, Lizzo, and Janelle Monae. Yolanda often joins them for girl group songs (Little Mix is a favourite), even though she protests that she’s not much of a singer when she’s not singing Selena songs 

Rick gets roped into doing a song too, much to his dismay. Courtney pouts and complains that he has to because there’s an unspoken rule that everyone has to sing

“I don't sing, dammit.” “Oh really, are you forgetting about that little ditty you were singing before your chem test?” 

Beth sees how nervous Rick is and decides to go easy on him, finding a slow, bluesy song that he can keep up with and assuring him that even if he can’t croon those long deep notes, everyone will cheer him on. He ends up giving the best performance of the night, shocking the girls and impressing them all 

He blushes when he sees Beth looking at him all starry eyed 

When Beth was growing up, her family would have game night every Thursday and they were always old fashioned board games like Clue, Scrabble, and Pictionary. Whenever they would play Clue, Beth would always choose to be Miss Scarlett while her dad would switch between Professor Plum and Colonel Mustard. Beth could never beat her mom at Scrabble and it often ended up with Beth’s chemistry words versus Bridget’s medical terms 

While game nights have since stopped, James will sometimes have Beth join him for a card game at three or four in the morning after he comes back from a business trip. He taught her how to play games like crazy eights, gin rummy, and cribbage when she was in middle school and it’s now their way of catching up after he comes back from travelling  

Both her parents are only children. James’ family was originally from California before he moved to Nebraska for work while Bridget’s family are of Louisiana Creole descent and hail from Omaha. Beth is quite close to Bridget’s side of the family, especially with her second cousin Delphine’s family. Beth sometimes helps look after Delphine’s daughter Eliana whenever she and her husband are in town 

Rick once mistook Eliana for Beth’s baby, hilarity ensued

Beth has a love for animals and since the fandom has collectively decided that Beth is a Disney Princess, she has a particular talent for being an accidental animal tamer. During a mission, three of the ISA’s attack dogs made a beeline for her and attacked her with doggie kisses instead of doing their job 

The ISA are torn between being pissed (“when the hell did Mid-Nite become an animal tamer?”) and confused. Sportsmaster is vaguely impressed and takes it as a challenge 

Later they tried scaring Beth with a python, which only really worked on Yolanda (“oh my god, what is that?”) while Beth just boops the snake on its snout. The snake swooned. So did Rick 

After Rick and Yolanda recover from the shock, they look at the trio of attack dogs follow Beth all the way to the Pit Stop and go “we’re not keeping you”. Rick just hopes that the trio are the only attack dogs that follow her back home. He wishes that he had been more specific because he was not expecting an actual maned wolf suddenly coming up and sniffing all over Beth during a visit to the Dugan-Whitmores’ cabin

“What the fuck, where did that come from and why is it all over Beth?!” 

It turns out that Beth didn’t realize that she had a cookie in one of her pockets and the maned wolf caught a whiff of it and was now trying to find it. The way it sniffs her is ticklish and she’s laughing the entire time 

Once the maned wolf brought over a friend to see Beth and Courtney goes, “aww, he met another–oh my god, that’s a panther!” The panther also wanted one of Beth’s treats and it swooped in between her and Rick and started pawing at her like a spoiled kitten 

Rick picked Beth up and carried her inside because “we can’t trust her outside anymore” 

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

A Painful Discovery//Obi Wan X Reader Forever Series: Part 8

Summary: You discover the truth about who you ended up on Courscant.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Whole lotta angst! like, alot. tiny bit of fluff, typos, messy plot.

A/N:So.....This is the last official chapter in the series! There will be an epilogue wrapping everything up and I know that this is kinda....messy? idk. I’ll make a longer post about this but writing this series has been a wild ride and my writing has improved SOOOOOO much! Also, the name of the series is finally gonna make sense! Thank you to everyone who as been reading this!

Your hands laid tightly clasped in your lap as you looked out the ship’s window, into a world of seemingly endless stars. The sound of your foot tapping against the metal floor echoed through the otherwise silent ship. Your wide eyes stared at the book that sat in a nearby seat. It looked unassuming, as if someone dropped it there without a second thought, but truth be told it was the most honored and feared passenger aboard the ship. 

Your mind wandered back through time. To ignorantly picking up that book a lifetime ago, finding yourself in a strange space place, learning, growing, falling in love. Realizing that there was a possibility of going home again and knowing, deep in your heart that you had to figure it out what happened. 

Behind you, you heard the heavy footsteps of Obi Wan retreating from the cockpit. 

“Hi.” You said quietly, eyes still focused on the blue glow of the  window.

“How are you feeling?”  You bit your lip as you contemplated your answer. 

“Scared.” You decided finally. “I know that’s not very...Jedi of me.” 

His warm reassuring hand found its place on your shoulder.  “There is no shame in ‘scared,’ darling.” 

You looked up at him with grateful eyes. He moved to sit next to you, letting his hand come to rest protectively on your thigh. “We, um, we haven’t talked about some stuff yet.” A thick tension crawled between the two of you. It had a name, but you could place it at the moment.

“I know.” The two of you both had been regretting this conversation. You took a deep breath, before diving headfirst into the difficult. 

“If I figure out how I got here, figure out… how I can get home. What do we do?” You stared up at him, tearful, “I love you Obi Wan, but I also have a home. I...I know I can’t have both.  If I leave, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to find my way back. I can feel that this is my only chance.” 

“Do you truly want my advice?” You nodded. “When the time comes, let go. Feel the force run through you, be one with it. You'll know what the right choice is.” 

Without a word you wrapped your arms around Obi’s neck and pulled him in a tight embrace, letting your tears dampen the shoulder of his robes. He cradled the back of your head, praying to whatever was out there that he would get to hold you like this a thousand times more. A lifetime more. But he wasn't going to hold you back if it was what you desired.

“I am very concerned for your safety, you know. The book's warnings seem...quite dire.” In unison, your eyes fell on the ever ominous book.

“I have to try.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. A silence once again filled the ship. “Whatever happens, I am so fucking glad I met you.” Obi Wan smiles before placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

“I love you too.”

The fear of saying goodbye. That was the name.

                                                           ***

Your limbs felt heavy as you walked off of the ship onto the planet, the book dragging you down as you cradled it in your arms. The planet was lush and green with mountains, fields, and a never ending downpour of rain assaulting from above. Obi walked down the ramp to meet you, carefully placing his cloak upon your shoulders.

“Thank you.” He nodded solemnly.

“I’m hoping that you have read about what we are to do?” 

“Yes, you see that hill.” You pointed towards a small hill a mile or so off. Even from where you stood you could see that it was surrounded by mammoth trees in a perfect circle. “We go there.”

“The book said this?”

“No. I did.”

The quiet trek towards your destination was grueling. The two of you were soaked to the bone when you arrived at the top. It was the best you could do to keep from shaking, from the cold or nerves, you knew not which. You stood there next to him for a moment, taking in the sight of the perfectly symmetrical circle of trees that towered above you, the branches reaching out, covering up any type of light with the exception of the center, which was clear, allowing the rain to pour down  in sheets.

“What does the translation say now?” You looked back down at the book in your hands, slightly damp from being hidden under your soaking robes. Pulling it close to you, you flipped through the pages to find the translation note.

“Meditate. Just sit wherever I’m drawn too, here, and meditate” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, seems a little anticlimactic.” You laughed nervously. You turned on your heel to look up at Obi, unsure of what to say. He softly brought his hand down to stroke your check before leaning down to press your lips to him. You closed your eyes and let yourself be enveloped in the tender embrace. It seemed that no words were needed. Reluctantly, you pulled back, staring up at him and his breathtaking blue eyes, wondering if it was the last time you'd ever see them. 

Pushing that thought from your mind, you turned and walked out into the center of the clearing, letting the rain pour down on you as if it didn't exist. You sat yourself down on the grassy floor and let yourself simply be. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest to let everything go, to connect with everything and be one with it all. Instead it felt like you were standing on the edge of an empty void. Calling out impossible questions that it refused to answer. 

After an eternity, or at least several hours spent in the chilling outdoors, you broke your concentration to look at obi who was silently watching you from where he sat by the base of one of the trees. 

“This is taking a lot longer than I expected.” You said sheepishly.

“That's quite alright. I am very familiar with the difficulties of meditation.” You smiled.

“You can wait with the ship if you want, it is pretty nasty out here.”

“Darling, don't think for a second that I’ll leave your side.”

“I could be hours, and I might not actually find out anything today.” You told him playfully. “You say you’ll wait but how long are you actually willing to stay out here with me?”

He looked at you with a gaze that pierced right through your heart. “Forever.”

***

A few more hours had passed. The grey light that had once barely lit the sky transformed into an all-consuming black that even with the rain was somehow laced with the gentleness of the shining stars. Your fingertips lightly rested on the soft grass, letting you feel your energy connect with them, channeling it all the way down through the planet and up to the sky where it danced with the stars. Once again you were faced with that infinite void looming over you, holding the answers you so desperately needed. But instead of yelling, of trying to force your way in as you had been trying to do for hours, you tried something different. You took a deep breath and simply let it in as opposed to fighting it. 

It was as if a switch had been flicked. With that simple action everything was unveiled to you. You gasped out in pain as it all flashed through your head, almost too fast to comprehend. Obi Wan jumped up, knowing, feeling through the force that something had changed. You stood up as images filled your mind, overwhelming you. Destruction, chaos, and you? You were saved, by what, from what? There was something missing, a piece the universe still had to show you. 

“No, no no no.” You cried under your breath. It was too much. It hurt, it couldn't be possible, it wasn't. Tears streamed down your cloudy eyes as you screamed. Obi Wan ran towards you. He caught you as you collapsed under yourself, your eyes a strange milky white as if you were in some kind of trance. Or nightmare. 

You slowly recovered in his arms, wailing and clinging to him, unable to believe what you had witnessed. 

“What is it, What’s wrong?” 

“It's gone, it's all gone! I-I don’t know how.” You shook in his arms, the rain pouring down on the both of you. “Oh my god, I’m alone.” It was as if you simply broke. He held you, (For what else could he do?) as you fell apart in his grasp, your sobs blending in with the pitter patter of that rain.

Obi Wan could feel it too, In the force that surrounded you. He pieced it together as he held you tightly. He figured out that all this time, everything you knew, everything you fought to get back in your life, had been gone, obliterated, simply lost. And that you, by some miracle were different. He didn't know if it was the book or your force sensitivity but something had saved you. But could it really be called “saved” if everything you knew was gone? 

His heart ached for you as everything inside you collapsed. it was all he could do to hold you as the rain poured down.