#and I spent like a whole hour at one point drawing out a timeline and trying to figure out exactly at what age ppkm gets together

[roitaminnah]

oh but I hope on my wishing stars

that I could be your love -

I’ve been waiting oh so long

to be your lover

(explodes) I just think about them a lot I think they’re neat. (song is ‘to be your lover’ by the burkharts,, one of the last ones on my ppkm playlist <3)

[copperdaisy]

It’s early Sunday morning and I uh, forgot to do my taxes yesterday as I spent the whole day playing Pokemon. (Except for the two hours that were spent napping, during which I had a dream about a Pedro Pascal looking guy being in the Pokemon world, which was also somehow my neighbor’s back yard, only covered in snow and located at the top of a mountain. It was kinda cool ngl.)

What I did remember to do was finally watch the animated Night at the Museum movie. Honestly it felt more like the pilot for a series than a standalone entry, and the characterization felt off, but I took it all with a grain of salt. It was meant to be kids’ entertainment, more than the live action movies were, and I am not the target audience. Mostly I was a bit disappointed by the absence of a certain character that didn’t even get namedropped once. Like... really? 

But it did get me thinking about the crossover I’ve been kicking around for like, two years now for Yu-Gi-Oh! and Night at the Museum. The idea has never fully coalesced into a coherent plot, because figuring out how I wanted to fit all the pieces together is a giant puzzle in and of itself. But this new animated movie has given me an avenue or two to iron out some logistics of how to get characters where I want them.

Dumping further rambling under a read-more due to length.

Firstly I’d have to take liberties with timelines. Yu-Gi-Oh! is supposed to take place in the 90s; the first Night at the Museum movie came out in 2006. Even pushing the YGO dates into the early 2000s like the airdates of the anime would see that timeline wrap up several months before the events of the first NatM movie, and I don’t feel like tossing Dark Side of Dimensions into the mix to extend that timeline. Ideally this crossover would happen between the Duelist Kingdom and second half of Battle City, so... yeah. Timeline fuckery would have to happen, in one direction or the other. Maybe.

Secondly, there is the matter of which characters from Night at the Museum I’d include. At the start I only wanted to include Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah, but there is still the issue of how to get them to Japan. Ahkmenrah is a museum exhibit co-owned by the Natural History Museum of New York and the British Museum - it’s not like he has much say in where he goes, or how he gets there. Kahmunrah is in much the same boat. Originally I had considered having some complicated loan agreement between those two establishments and the Egyptian Ministry of Tourism & Antiquities that would temporarily put Ahkmenrah (and his Tablet) under the custody of Ishizu. Making him part of her exhibit in Domino would satisfy a list of legal requirements and give restoration experts time to inspect him and his belongings, so on and so forth. But now that this new movie has made it canon that Larry Daley is involved with the museum in Tokyo there is a chance to include him in the proceedings somehow. I don’t know, I’m still leaning towards the original idea, because it entailed an ignorance of the true importance of the Tablet.

Which brings me to ramble point number three: the Tablet. It shares a lot of traits with the Items. It is made of gold crafted through a secret magical process by specially trained priests, people who know its secrets fight to have possession of it, it is owned by a king who died tragically young. However, it is older than the Items by a good thousand years (4000 years old compared to the Items’ 3000 years, because I like the 3000 years time better) and draws its powers from an entirely different source (Khonsu/the moon instead of Zorc Necrophades/shadow magic). By the time the Items were created there was no record of the Tablet, the royal family that created it, or even the location of the tomb that housed them all. Which is why Ishizu would have no knowledge of the Tablet when it comes into her custody. She might have an inkling that it is more than a decorative piece, but I’m not sure her Necklace would react to it initially. I still need to figure out how the two different magics would interact with each other.

Fourth ramble point is how Ahkmenrah would interact with the YGO gang. There would be a language barrier at the start. Sure, he can speak multiple languages, but Japanese is not among them. And there would be enough of a language shift over a few thousand years that even Ishizu would have difficulty understanding his native tongue. They would make something work but that first few nights would be a little Tense™ for everyone involved. Luckily he is remarkably friendly and (mostly) non-threatening and just. So happy to be out of his sarcophagus, you don’t even know, please don’t lock it again. Because, again, my original plan nixed most of the Night at the Museum plot. At that point, Ahkmenrah would have spent every night for the last seventy-odd years trapped in his coffin, unable to convince anyone to let him out. Worse, those who knew he was very much conscious and alive in there for eight hours every night would mock him, because they thought he was something he wasn’t. The poor guy would do anything to avoid going back to that prison. He just wants to make friends for the first time in centuries! He’s a ray of sunshine, even if his socializing needs a bit of work.

Will he butt heads with Atem? Probably. Both of them are proud individuals, and there would likely be tension stemming from both of them being Pharaohs. A bit of jealousy on Atem’s part because Ahkmenrah has not forgotten much from his time alive while Atem knows nothing about his past life. In return, Ahkmenrah has a tendency to lean too heavily into the Pharaoh persona at times and can come across as tactless and out of touch. His own flavor of jealousy would come from knowing that Atem can actually experience things like daylight and being able to go wherever Yugi does without having to worry about strict time limits. All told, nothing that the two of them can’t overcome after the initial introductory period. Ahkmenrah is twenty times easier to get along with than Kaiba is, after all.

Not entirely sure where the story would go beyond that initial meeting period yet. I do know that the Tablet would be a very, very tempting target for Bakura. It can raise the armies of both Khonsu and Anubis given the right set up and know how in addition to bringing inanimate objects to life between sunset and sunrise. Why does it have that ability? Who knows? Entirely possible that the priests who made it were unaware of that ability, as it was made specifically to grant the royal family the ability to walk the mortal plane every night. Not all that different than the hidden use of the Items to allow Zorc to cross over into the mortal realm.

It is certainly the main draw for Kahmunrah. He murdered his own brother to get it in the first place after being passed over for the throne. He and Bakura would possibly create an alliance somehow to get their hands on it. Possibly Marik too. It is just a matter of figuring out how Kahmunrah would get to Japan to gain access to the Tablet to be revived... hm.

Still a lot to consider and work out before I can get this idea down onto paper sort to speak.

[dumbbitchfrommars]

okay.

im purging the past. thats whats happening. scorpio season has come through guns blazing, bringing reminders of my distant past that ive struggled to let go of despite all my adamance that it doesnt matter anymore. it always mattered. it mattered so much it kept me from living my life, from meeting new people, from realising that i was worth so much better.

maybe i wasnt worth better. but now i am. it took time, i grew up, i changed. i found out who i am. what i value. what matters to me, how i could embody that and how i could attract that into my life with that outlook.

and now... the tests begin. days in a row of reminders from the past. murray was the worst of it, or maybe he was the least of it? he was the beginning. and jacinta was the end. alan was the end. im better than all of it. even sexy, beautiful, pretty photography boy murray. hes just another version of luke and adam. there are few people who are worthy of me now, and honestly, i am still not ready for a man in my life. but when i am i will see the signs. my era is friendships. finding the fulfilling, heart expanding, easy, connected friendships with women that i always dreamed and desired for. when i was a little girl. when i grew up. its always been about finding my forever tribe. and im beginning to find the foundations of that...

and even if theyre not forever, theyre right now, and i know my worth and i know how to protect my energy if things go awry. the most important thing is that i feel loved, and i feel surrounded by love, and i feel the freedom of being able to share all the love and kindness i hold in my heart, without being afraid of it being taken for granted or sucked away with nothing given in return. i am so blessed and lucky to have reached this turning point in my life.

and it only took until 22.

i came on here to write about all the reminders from the past... to go into detail about the signs and symbols and synchronicities... but they werent the forefront. well - they were. they happened and they triggered the memories to come back up. but the fact is... ive spent so much time on them already. i dont need to re analyse people ive spent hours drawing in my mind. the signs were there for a reason and i like to think i appreciate that divine reason. God sends me challenges only because she knows I can handle them. because she knows i will adapt to them, grow from them, and see the message she wanted me to hear... to see the subtext in that message. the subtext!

not to mention me seeing 11:11 while breaking down in tears about all my boy troubles. the truth is, they were all unworthy of me in the same exact ways. i wont gain anything from having them in my life in the same way i havent lost anything by removing them from it. they served a purpose, yes. they helped me. they taught me so much. but they were never meant to last. and now im stronger for it. everything happens for a reason. ive never felt stronger than i do right now. i rejected a guy that the old me wouldnt have felt worthy of even flirting with. it was so simple and quick too. i did that. i was strong enough to protect my own energy. and thats because i am so in love with and committed to myself. and that is how i strengthen my relationship with myself.

and that is how i made all my desires a reality, because once upon a time i was so heartbroken because i kept letting myself down. because i felt responsible for all the mistakes made by the ones who hurt me. but i get to choose who hurts me.

im making space for people who will love me unconditionally the way i love myself. that appreciate my voice, my thoughts, my creativity, my light. that see me and hear me and want to shower me with love.

ive literally shifted my life into a new fucking timeline. ive changed my whole reality.

while my heart breaks for the ones i once loved. i send out a prayer for them, for their healing, and for their happiness. but my own wellbeing is my priority now. the way it should always be, the way it will always be now. I AM MY PRIORITY. my happiness. im sorry (no, im really not), but i come first. and so it is....

[voidspacecowboy]

Contains Spoilers

Ooh, plot twist. Because having just one assassination plot to deal with is boring, right? ;)

I always feel like this is really where the pace of the book starts to change — Noah has been rejected by Crysta, the festival is drawing closer, and at this point he has very little left to lose. Also, there’s a whole lot happening in a very short space of time, on multiple levels.

Keeping track of the timeline while writing and editing this was A Lot. I had to go over it so many times, making bullet point notes and checking how many days were left between then and the festival, figuring out who was where and what was happening and how many consecutive hours Noah had been awake. But it was worth it in the end!

One thing I quite like about these chapters is just how quickly Daniel makes his moves now that he’s made the decision to do it. Sure, he ends up at Adamas’ because he thinks he’s the one trying to assassinate Crysta, but once he gets that opening he pushes it straight into getting the information about Diora; it shows to me that he probably could’ve done that a while ago, since Adamas was not all that tough to crack. He could have found Diora and ended things — and thus put the identity of Daniel away for good — long before now, but he didn’t, because he liked having that power, and it’s only now that it’s about to cost him what he really loves that he’s putting in the work. I just love how much we see as the story plays out that Noah has been lying to himself for an incredibly long time.

It’s also really the first case of him getting properly carried away with threatening someone, and enjoying it; sure, he’s gotten into fights in the past, but there’s never been the kind of power imbalance that there is between him and Adamas.

He enjoys getting one over on the guy who has been such a braggart in front of him for so long — and then immediately hates himself for it once he’s done. It’s like now the rose-tinted glasses are off he’s finally seeing just how easy it would be for him to turn Daniel into exactly the kind of person he’s spent years trying to protect people from. He’s realising that power going unchecked is bad even when it’s power belonging to a ‘good’ person, although I would argue that at this point Noah probably does not consider himself a good person. 

So y’know, it’s time for Daniel to die a hero before he lives long enough to see himself become the villain. And we’ll see how that works out for him tomorrow!

[dhwty-writes]

On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading! 

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers—Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.  

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. -  Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

being honest i dont get jm using a award to say he misses tannie... we don’t know 90% of their lives but they are very close to the point of still sleeping together sometimes. and going deep if they were really a couple jm woudnt miss taes dog right? and even as friends he could visit it. unless its because of their schedule right... this kind of comment sometimes confuses me and haters will use it as “they arent close” lol. i just wanted to know your pov.

Judging by Admin 2's reaction, as well as some others in our asks, I have a feeling I was the only one with a more realistic expectation, or lack of expectations, as I waited for the BTS profiles to be posted. Based on last year's, I knew expecting something grand out of Tae, and especially Jimin, would just be me setting myself up for failure, which is what I think happened here.

But, let's discuss it.

I spent a solid couple of hours making an excel table last night that contains everything every member said about every member (sourcing 3 translators for maximum insight) to see if really what Jimin chose for Tae is so "bad" that suddenly people are sending us asks like this one, and another one I'll add later down the line. And the conclusion I've come to is that...what he gave to Tae, as well as Hobi and Seokjin, as awards are the only ones that have any actual emotional/personal connection to them.

With Namjoon and JK Jimin basically states the obvious--Namjoon is tall and JK has gained muscle mass, meaning nothing new or with a proper emotional connection was stated; to Yoongi he made the same request many other members have made, so a work connection, nothing inherently personal.

Now, compared to that--Seokjin teases him/them, which isn't new info, so Jimin asked him to stop or do it less, a valid request which I'm sure he also voiced to Seokjin outside of this FESTA profile and also shows a degree of personal connection; Hobi gets requested to not walk away after asking Jimin a question, which again shows a personal connection and that it's a reoccurring thing; and lastly Tae with Tannie.

Something I've noticed is that some ARMY, who are used to our western celebrities and draw conclusions about idols based on those parameters, forget that BTS are busy, like whatever you consider busy, take that and multiply it by ten. During his vlive with Hobi and Yoongi back in April, Tae said that they are much busier and their lives far more hectic than any of us realize. Taking that into account, and the fact that one of the members (I think it might have been Seokjin) mentioned they work at least ten hours a day for 360 days a year with practice, MV and CF filming, photoshoots, interviews, recording and working on music, meetings, and many other things we have no idea about, do you really think Yeontan lives with Tae full time? A dog needs to get walked and fed but if Tae is out of the house every day for at least ten hours, what would happen to Tannie? He'd just sit around at home alone all day which just isn't fair, so I'm sure Tannie lives with Tae's parents much the same way Micky lives with Hobi's parents and/or his sister, JKs dog lives with his family, Holly lives with Yoongi’s brother, Moni with Namjoon's, and years ago Seokjin had to give his sugar gliders to his parents because he was too busy to take care of them.

Based on that of that, I'm not sure how often Tae get's to see Tannie. Probably not all that often, to be honest. So, if Tannie's owner doesn't get to see him often, I'd assume Jimin gets to see him even less (if we work on the assumption that Tannie lives with Tae's parents and thus Tae could only really see him when visiting them or when they visit him, that means Jimin wouldn't be able to see Tannie just like that either, since that would be like intruding on family time, right?). And we know Jimin loves Tannie, so him using that award to say he misses him and is asking about him shows care and an emotional connection to Tannie. Do I think Jimin also asks Tae privately about Tannie? Absolutely. And still, while Jimin didn't give Tae the, I don't know, "hot body Award" like Yoongi did with Namjoon or the "person I love most in the world award" (which we should know by now would never happen, and if you expected something of that intensity level, than I'm sorry but you've set yourself up for disappointment from the start), he still drew a personal and emotional connection between himself and Tae, as well as the pet Tae loves dearly.

More below the cut:

Jimin could’ve asked about the other pets of the members, but he didn’t, he only ever really talked about Tannie, and here he does it again, so doesn’t that show that he has a bond with him, a closer one than the other members since they don’t/didn’t ask about him (except for Hobi that one time on weverse)?

Speaking of Hobi, am I the only one who finds it interesting and cute that he only drew little hearts for Jimin and Tae when writing down their awards?

Also, we have to remember that these profiles are for us, fan content (remember when Jimin asked Tae last year to post more pictures of Tannie on weverse because ARMY miss seeing him, so what if this is drawing a connection/parallel to that?), and not meant as the members “confessing” something to each other that they otherwise wouldn’t or don’t have the chance to do so. It’s not meant to be all that serious and instead just be fun and nice for us to read, show us a bit of their dynamic and that’s it, no world shattering revelations to be found, from any of them. Or do you really think Yoongi doesn’t like Jimin just because he told Jimin he’s trying too hard to be funny? It’s just part of their dynamic. Or that none of the members have anything else to say to JK besides commenting on his body/appearance? As for vmin, I’d like to remind us of this moment from their Friends subunit interview for FESTA 2020:

Whatever Jimin and Tae want to say to each other, they don’t need FESTA to do it, or us to be there as witnesses. Like Tae didn’t already say enough by telling us that 95z is love. Or Jimin by writing Friends.

From anon: because of you I came back da Namjin. I am a senior army and 2 years ago I left Namjin because I thought they broke up. You made me three Vmin but after what JK wrote about Jimin and after Jm himself about his chances I think that vmin are not together or Jimin withdrew. I think Jk would not dare to write about Jm that he has cute fingers etc if vmin were a relationship. it goes too far and confuses Jk too much. I don't want to say that J / k*ok is real because it certainly isn't !!!!

Now this is where I just sit and sigh heavily because it’s exactly what I expected and I will admit it irks me to no end. Let’s establish a little timeline:

Based on the FESTA Mission! BTS 4 Cuts Teaser that was posted earlier we can deduce that at least part of FESTA was already being prepared back in the first half of March, since on March 12th Jimin, Namjoon and Seokjin had their salad making vlive. Let’s suppose that everything FESTA related was prepared and written out by the members around that time as well. Sometime later BTS filmed YOU QUIZ followed by LET’S BTS and BTSxGame Caterers and everything else we’ve seen after that.

Or going a little further back to sometime in November 2020 while they were preparing for MMA 2020 and the Black Swan performance. We got the practice video today and if you pay attention to Jimin and Tae even there you notice that while Tae is waiting for his turn in the choreography, Jimin runs past him after his part is done (0:55) and they pat each other or do a “high five” or something along those lines as a way to cheer each other on. A very “we’re broken up” or “I will break up with him soon” thing to do, right? Or in min-January when Tae posted seven pictures out of which three were of just Jimin after an ARMY on weverse asked if anyone had any nice pictures they could use as wallpaper for their phone. Between all that I’m having a hard time honestly finding any moment where either of them seemed sad or “cold” toward the other the way you would be and feel if the person you love pulled away from you or broke up with you.

If you are still unconvinced and still think that is what Jimin tried to communicate to us, would Tae really have gone on national TV and said he likes Jimin the most? And would Jimin have agreed that he likes him a lot as well? Or looking at the making video of their Kloud Beer CF that was posted today as well, would Jimin really be looking and interacting with Tae this way if he decided to end things between them?

Also, going back a little, your mention of Jimin reflecting upon opportunities/chances now that it’s a new year. My question is based on what you made the judgment that this comment has to be about vmin and not about something entirely different in Jimin’s life, or maybe something connected to BTS as a whole? Just because of him asking Tae about Tannie? Jimin, as well as Tae and the other members, have entire lives outside of just their bonds with each other, entire careers, passion projects, families, friend groups, and that little bit of time they have to themselves, so immediately thinking Jimin’s comment must be related to his relationship/bond with Tae basically makes it seem like Jimin’s life is a romcom or a TV show in which the only thing that matters is if the main character will date or remain in a relationship with character B or not, but life isn’t like that.

Personally it reminded me of something Tae said during their Bring the Soul documentary about how BTS had the opportunities to go higher faster but they decided against them. Perhaps Jimin’s comment was about something like this as well, especially since we know Jimin is a very private person and very selective of the personal things he shares with us and the ones he doesn’t.

For the FESTA profile JK decided to give Jimin the “Cute Award” with the explanation that his “Face, height, fingers are cute” which, honestly, is just saying something that a) is true and b) has been said in millions of ways by every member across the last couple of years. I don’t see what the issue here is? During one of the episodes of BTSxGame Caterers Seokjin said that Jimin is very cute and that he has a small, beautiful face, so really he even added the word beautiful in there, which JK did not, so what really is the issue here? The fact its JK, right, that’s where the issue lies, to which I ask why? On this blog we’ve already established that there is (in our opinion and based on everything we’ve seen and heard) no romantic connection between JK and Jimin (nor Tae), not now and not in the past either, so why is him saying that Jimin is cute (which he is known for even by people outside of ARMY, or like James Cordon calling him his cute baby mochi) is an issue but Seokjin or any other member is not? Either we use the same measurements for everyone or we don’t compare or make such assumptions about any of them.

What I find curious, because this does make it seem like you, anon, are someone influenced by J*k*ok shippers and their opinions, see an issue in JK saying that about Jimin, and how that’s “proof” that Jimin and Tae can’t possibly be together, and yet you took no issue to Namjoon basically saying he wants to give Tae an award because he is so handsome he is above every list or Yoongi comparing him to Michelangelo's David, both of these being much more superlative and grand complements/awards than JK saying Jimin’s face, height and fingers are cute.

It’s funny how things that Jimin and Tae have said about and to each other that make their bond very clear (I want to live with my lovely Taehyungie forever or here is my love for you while handing Tae a bunch of red heart balloons or 95z is love, a statement I’m sure he wouldn’t post if that sentiment weren’t mutual) are all questioned or ignored, but something as basically trivial as a comment about Jimin being cute is turned into a major issue. The mental gymnastics is fascinating.

Lastly, going back to the first anon and their mention of how haters will use Jimin’s Award for Tae as “proof” that they “aren’t close anymore”--why do we care? Like Namjoon said in the Mic Drop lyrics Haters gon’ hate. They will say a lot of things about a lot of things and even make things up if they feel like it to push their agenda, so really, regardless of what Jimin would’ve said, or not said, they would’ve found a way to twist it and make it fit their narrative. Besides, what haters think has no actual effect or bearing on what Tae and Jimin have with each other, and neither does what other shippers claim. Haters and other shippers don’t control the narrative, BTS do, and everything Jimin and Tae have shown us in 2021, as well as the last eight years, shows me that their bond has only ever grown stronger and closer and more beautiful and awe inspiring, even while haters claimed they stopped being friends years ago, so why should you or I care what they think?

Like Yoongi once said in one of his vlives about how haters can write all they want, he won’t read it while they will get sued.

[rainingpouringetc]

so hug all your friends and let them know you’re not letting go

ch 1 - what’s it like to be alone on a sunday

alastair/ariadne/grace/christopher/eugenia/jesse friendship fic for ya :) | read on AO3 | masterlist

---

It took them a rather long time to all find each other. Looking back, it seemed almost a miracle that they had. It seemed a miracle that they hadn’t allowed childhood gripes and societal biases to come between them and tear their little found family apart.

Alastair and Ariadne credited themselves with being the first of the group. Grace disputed this, saying she and Jesse had known each other far longer; Christopher and Eugenia chose to remain silent on this matter. 

“You lot might’ve known each other,” Ariadne liked to say, brown eyes gleaming, “but Alas and I were the founds of this group. We’re the ones who brought the six of us together.” And she was right.

It had started with a ball, which took place a short time after Cordelia’s engagement party. It didn’t much matter which one it was or even who was hosting—all that mattered was it had been dreadfully boring and Sona had been harping on Alastair for standing morosely on the edges of the dance floor.

Eager to stop her constant nagging, he had approached Ariadne Bridgestock and politely asked for a dance. He had never exchanged more than a few words with her directly, though Charles had told him much about her. He did know that she was like him; the way she watched Anna Lightwood—like she was untouchable behind a pane of glass, only to be longed for from afar—was much too familiar. It helped his own cause that she was the Inquisitor’s daughter. Sona would be delighted.

Ariadne had been perfectly proper in accepting his request to dance. They had been silent for the first few bars of music until Charles and Grace twirled by, eliciting an eye roll from Alastair. Ariadne raised an eyebrow at that, a knowing smile playing on her lips. It was easy, after that, to strike up a conversation. They had a mutual contempt for Charles, and gossiping about him came easily. From there, it wasn’t much of a stretch to talk about other things. They chatted mildly about Shadowhunter politics before swiftly moving on to upcoming social events (which they were both looking to avoid). By the end of the song, they were enthusiastically chatting about a library a few blocks away from the Institute that neither of them had been able to go to yet but were both desperately hoping to browse.

“Care to join me for another turn around the room?” Alastair asked, flashing a rare smile.

“Why, of course,” Ariadne replied, taking his hand and allowing him to draw her close as the music started up again. “We have much to discuss if we’re to decline Catherine’s invitation to the park next Friday in favor of allowing ourselves to be lost in the library.”

They did just that. Cordelia was a bit cross with her brother for leaving her to go to the park alone—“You’re not going to be alone, Layla, you’ll still have James and Lucie and all their little friends”—but, after a bit of light bickering, she bid him farewell and slunk off to the waiting Herondale carriage.

Alastair found Ariadne at the library, already with her nose buried in a book. It was the perfect way to start a friendship, he thought later. They spent the day exchanging their favorite books and authors, each leaving with a back-breaking pile when the sun dipped below the horizon. Ariadne proposed they stop for dinner, but Alastair declined, stating he wished to stop the rumor mill before it had a chance to begin. They themselves might know that nothing of that sort could occur between them—it was simply impossible—but the rest of the Enclave did not. Ariadne was quite gracious about it and gave him a kind smile before disappearing down the road toward her house.

After that day, they sought each other out more and more often. Every party and ball found them chatting on the edges of the room. Every dreaded social event found them disappearing to a nearby park or library, anywhere to enjoy each other’s company in peace. Alastair found himself drawn not just to Ariadne’s gentleness but also her startling wit. It was good, he thought, that she so often chose to turn the other cheek when confronted with a tense accusation. If she wanted, she could cut those gossipers down with a few sharp words. It was like looking at an alternate timeline in which Alastair had never gone to the Academy and rather grew up warm and loved. Instead, he had been forced into thick skin and a quick tongue, one that often got ahead of him.

Eventually, every lonely night found them at each other’s doorstep, propriety be damned. Alastair learned to climb the trellis up to Ariadne’s window; he learned to knock three times before ducking his head in preparation for her throwing the window open wide and inviting him in. She always had a robe nearby for nights like this, as well as an empty closet for him to hide in should someone decide to drop by unexpectedly. Ariadne, in turn, learned to keep a stock of Risa’s favorite chocolates; she learned to bribe the maid into letting her steal away up the stairs to Alastair’s room at midnight and not breath a word of it to the other Carstairs. He had an uncanny way of knowing when she would be there. He was always waiting to open the door before she had to knock.

Those nights, so full of loneliness and despair, were the ones when memories came back to haunt them. Those were the nights when Alastair thought about his father, about the Academy, about all the things he convinced himself were his fault. Those were the nights when Ariadne thought about her life in India, about Anna, about all the things she convinced herself she could have done differently. Those were the nights when they silently reminded each other that they weren’t alone, that they deserved better.

Their bond was somewhat unexpected but nevertheless irreplaceable.

They supposed it was only a matter of time before something should change.

---

It was perhaps a month after Cordelia’s engagement party and Alastair was climbing up to Ariadne’s window. His day had been long and fraught with awkward encounters with the Merry Thieves. Thomas was still blatantly ignoring him and Matthew was his usual charming self. James was a bit more tolerable, and Christopher didn’t seem to entirely know what it was they were all upset about, only that he’d better be upset about it too. All Alastair needed, he thought, was someone to tell him he had been trying his best. His mind kept snagging on Thomas’s words. If you come near me or speak to me at any point after this, I will knock you into the Thames.

He reached the top and, light as could be, knocked thrice. He ducked his head but, to his surprise, no answer came. Frowning, he tried again. When Ariadne still did not come to the window, he huffed in frustration and lifted himself up to peer into the room. A light was on, which was a bit odd. Usually, the house had gone to bed by now; it was well after midnight, after all.

It wasn’t until far too late that Alastair realized Ariadne was not alone in her room. He met the steely gray eyes of Grace Blackthorn and nearly let go of the trellis in shock. He’d nearly forgotten she was staying with the Bridgestocks. Grace’s eyes widened, then snapped to Ariadne—whose back was, evidently, turned to the window—then back to Alastair. She stormed to the window, flung it open, and hissed for him to just get inside already.

Once Alastair had pulled himself through the window (a rather unpleasant experience he doubted he’d ever get used to), Grace turned to him and rather looked like she wished to smack him. “Why on earth,” she whispered, voice dripping with rage, “are you crawling through Ariadne’s window at two in the morning?”

It was a fair question, but one he had no desire to answer. “What are you doing in Ariadne’s room at two in the morning?” he deflected, lifting his chin haughtily.

“I had matters to discuss with her,” Grace told him, voice tight. Ariadne rolled her eyes.

“As did I.” Alastair leaned against the bedpost with a casualness he did not feel, crossing his arms and regarding Grace with practiced iciness.

“You had something so important to discuss that it could not wait just a few more hours for proper social calling times?” Grace raised a silver-blonde brow at him. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

With that, she swept out of the room, through an odd look over her shoulder at Ariadne.

“Do you think she ever gets tired of being so bitter?” Ariadne questioned, then looked apologetically at Alastair. “What I mean is… I suppose she must get lonely. I can’t imagine Charles being good company to her, and she hardly talks to anyone else.”

Alastair considered this. I wouldn’t wish Charles’ company on anyone, he thought for a moment, then caught himself. It was odd, thinking about Charles. For so long he had given his whole heart to loving Charles. Now, that love had twisted into bitterness, but not necessarily because of who Charles was. His brain hurt thinking about it, so he asked, “What was it she needed to discuss with you?

Ariadne shrugged and pulled her robe tighter around herself. “She didn’t get around to it. You got here the same time she did.”

They waited a few days for repercussions, sure that Grace would find some way to use this against them. Ariadne wasn’t sure if Grace had mentioned something to the Inquisitor or not. It would be quite scandalous should it get out that Alastair had been in her bedroom at two in the morning.

Days passed, and nothing happened. It seemed they were in the clear.

The next time they saw Grace was in the park, at a social event they usually would’ve tried to skip. She was there with Charles, who seemed too busy chatting with snobbish Shadowhunters and their parents to notice when Grace slipped away and came over to meet them.

Alastair and Ariadne were standing together by the waterfront. Cordelia had gone off to find Lucie, and Ariadne had come alone. As Grace approached, they both tensed, steeling themselves for some form of blackmail or threat. Instead, she simply nodded politely in greeting and said, “Well, isn’t this a bore.”

Alastair raised an eyebrow. It certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “Indeed it is. And how are you, Grace?”

“Oh.” She waved the question away with a flap of her gloved hand. “Well, what is it you two usually do to get away from events such as this?”

Alastair exchanged a glance with his friend. A knowing smile sat on her lips. He turned to Grace. “We’ll show you.”

---

Sometime between when Grace had left and when she returned, Charles had gone from talking enthusiastically about dreadfully boring political matters with some of the more prominent names of their parents’ generation to sighting exasperatedly at the antics of the Merry Thieves and company, with whom he was now engaged in conversation. From what Grace could tell as she approached, Thomas and Christopher looked like they would rather not be there. Lucie was whispering something in Cordelia’s ear, and the latter was standing dutifully by James. James himself looked rather bored as he interrupted whatever it was Charles was saying to Matthew.

Grace braced herself, took a breath, and stepped up to her fiancé’s side. “Charles?” she said mildly, erasing any hint of emotion from her voice. He looked down at her in surprise. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her as she continued. “You need not wait for me when you’re finished. I’m departing early.”

Charles’s red brows furrowed. It might’ve been cute. Grace wouldn’t know. “Why is that, dear?”

“Ariadne Bridgestock and Alastair Carstairs invited me to browse a favorite library of theirs,” she said calmly. “I accepted. They’re waiting for me by the carriage now.”

As if in disbelief, the group turned as one and looked over to the Inquisitor’s carriage. Alastair and Ariadne, true to their word, were talking quietly to one another just next to it. Alastair whispered something, his eyebrows raised and a smile on his face. As he spoke, Ariadne tipped her head back in laughter.

Matthew watched the two with barely concealed fury; Thomas looked rather like someone had just slapped him. Grace filed it away, intending to inquire into the reasons of their reactions as soon as she could. Perhaps there was leverage to be found there.

The others largely looked on with mild bemusement. “I didn’t know they were friends,” Lucie said, her voice tinted with surprise. “Do they have an understanding?” she wondered aloud. She turned to Cordelia. “Did you know?”

Cordelia looked hesitant to answer. Her eyes were on her brother, and they were softened by love. Something snagged in Grace’s mind. That feeling dancing in Cordelia’s eyes was all too familiar. It was how Grace felt when she thought of Jesse.

Grace interjected before Cordelia could say anything. “I shouldn’t leave them waiting. Goodbye, Charles.” She nodded a farewell to the others and made for the carriage, never once letting her posture sad as they burned holes into her back with their stares.

---

It was a bit different with Grace there. Ariadne hadn’t quite decided that it was a bad different, thought. She was willing to take a chance on the girl, foolish as it might prove her to be.

Alastair clearly already regretted the decision to invite her along as the awkward silence in the carriage dragged on. He set his jaw, crossed his arms, and stared determinedly out the window—telltale signs that he was retreating into himself again. Ariadne sighed, searching for something to stay to the girl beside her.

“Do you have a favorite book, Grace?” she finally asked politely. It was proper enough, and they were going to the library after all.

Grace considered the question for a long moment before she responded. “I’ve always loved The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. Have you read it?”

“I have not,” Ariadne told her. “I’ll look for it when we get to the library. They have so many books, I’m sure they’ll have it somewhere.”

The silence began to creep up on them again. “Well,” Grace said, breaking it, “what about you, Ariadne? What is your favorite book?”

Ariadne brightened. “The Prisoner of Zenda. If you’d like to read it, I have a copy of my own at home—you needn’t worry about finding it at the library.”

Grace dipped her head in a nod, and Ariadne spied the faint beginnings of a smile on her face. Grace turned to Alastair, who was still pointedly not looking at either of them. “And you?”

A muscle twitched in Alastair’s jaw. Ariadne could almost see the conflict raging in his eyes. This had been his idea, she wanted to remind him. They were giving Grace a chance. The tension went out of his shoulders as he flicked his dark eyes to Grace’s. “Machiavelli’s The Prince.”

Grace looked rather pleased by his answer. “That one I’ve read. I quite enjoyed it.”

This was the right thing to say. The corner of Alastair’s mouth twitched upward in pleasant surprise as he engaged her in a conversation about the book and its contents. Ariadne listened, warm happiness spreading in her chest. She hadn’t read the book—it was on her list—but listening to the two of them talk about it with such enthusiasm was enough to melt the tense atmosphere she’d been so worried would settle over them all. Ariadne was reminded suddenly of the night she and Alastair had met and danced and talked and talked.

The conversation turned so that she could join back in, and by the time they reached the library, they were all chatting as though they were long-lost friends. Perhaps they were in another life.

Time passed like sand slipping through fingers, smooth and fast and easier than it should have been. Ariadne knew much of their conversation was close to the surface. Grace was still not quite trustworthy enough for anything deeper. She was all tangled up with James and Charles and now Cordelia as well—Ariadne didn’t blame Alastair for being a bit chary of interacting with her. Still… a part of Ariadne felt like maybe Grace could grow to be a close friend like Alastair had.

i hope you guys enjoyed! i love this idea so much, they all deserve happiness and i wish they could find it together.

tagging @ohcoolnice @stxr-thxif @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @doitforthecarstairs @itsdaughterofthemoon @imherongraystairstrash bc i hope y’all like this lol. send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future updates <3

[seerofmike]

The Writing In Apex Kinda Sucks And Also They Use Ship Bait As A Plot Device I Hate It Here

a stupid essay/rant encouraged by @zombiegloss that originally started as a youtube video script so if its like. weird at points. this was intended to be a verbal rant SNZISKSIA

basically i'm gonna talk abt the caustic-wattson-crypto relationship drama and how i think it was mishandled and how much the writers kind of Suck because i Can

you are free to disagree with me on any of my points and think that this aspect of the story was handled well, this is just my opinion, and i'd love to hear your thoughts and counterpoints !

first, addressing some things:

i know this is a battle royale and not necessarily a story-based game, so i can’t expect it to have masterful witcher-style writing.

but with the direction the game seems to be going; putting quests, evolving interactions, and comics in the game, plus coming out with a lore book and hinting at something bigger in the future, i think it’s fair to criticize it for lackluster writing, especially since what i’m criticizing has been something present since Apex’s story technically began.

secondly, i am not a professional writer. i’m a high schooler who writes as a hobby. i don’t have the decades of experience that some of the apex writers do, and i can’t claim to be a better writer than they are--but i also don’t have to be a five-star chef to realize that something tastes bad. when i critique something and give suggestions, i am not saying i could’ve done it better. i’m just bringing up what i think could have worked.

third, before i upset anyone , when i say a relationship is badly written, i’m not telling you that you can’t ship it or that your ship sucks. i’ll briefly touch on the shipping aspect of this and how it’s a detriment to the story but Ye

okay, so with that out of the way, let us Begin

relationships are often the emotional core of a story, and how strong your reaction is to conflict in these relationships depends on how the story sets them up. if you want the audience to care about these characters and what they go through, you need to develop them and establish the type of relationship they have well. it’s why so many people cried in the last episode of telltale’s the walking dead. you’ve spent roughly 12 hours bonding with clementine and protecting her, and your relationship with her is part of several story beats as well as character beats for lee. 

when these two characters’ relationship reaches its peak at the end of the game, it’s powerful, and it’s emotional. you care. you feel something, and the fact that you have to choose what to do to lee only makes it more gut-wrenching. 

now, the walking dead is entirely story-based and especially character-driven, so it may be unfair to compare it to apex, but i just wanted to lay the groundwork down for what i think is a strong relationship that makes you feel something when conflict arrives, in this case the conflict being lee getting bit and clementine having to decide his fate.

the broken ghost in general is kind of not-good sometimes, tom casiello previously wrote for soap operas and you can really, REALLY tell sometimes.

this story feels like it should’ve taken place a little later, and that we should’ve had a season to actually set up the characters and their relationships, but that’s a story for another day.

to put it bluntly, the set-up for the crypto, wattson, and caustic conflict is done poorly. for caustic and wattson's relationship it’s a little better, but not by much. 

wattson and caustic having a relationship was hinted at in season 2, when her lore indicated that caustic was among one of the Legends who comforted her after her father died. In season four lore materials posted on Twitter, an email from Jacob Young states that Caustic is acting paternal towards Wattson. In season five, interactions get added to the Game, and this is the first time we actually see their relationship in action, as they have unique revive voice lines for each other. in the quests, when wattson is injured, caustic lashes out at loba and attacks her out of what seems to be anger at wattson’s current state.

Side Note this plot point was really stupid and done for cheap drama because she literally wakes up like two chapters later and they don’t even give her anything to say it’s just suddenly oh yeah crypto and wattson are working together. the same exact injury thing happens to octane later but nobody gIVES A SHIT because again, it’s just cheap soap opera drama.

their relationship might seem a little bit sudden for anyone who wasn’t on top of twitter lore drops, but like, it’s okay, i guess. i’ll give it the slightest credit for at least establishing something between the two in terms of voice lines and stuff, even if for some it might seem like it came out of nowhere.

what did come out of nowhere, though, was crypto and wattson’s friendship. in the quests, crypto and wattson are tasked with rebuilding the broken ghost because of their respective skills, and they’re seen talking in chapter six while they work on it. we’re not really given a clear timeline on how long the story in the broken ghost is, but i think it takes about a week, maybe.

unlike wattson and caustic, their relationship has been given absolutely zero material to work with before now, not even a passing glance in the trailers--which is a little weird considering crypto took down the repulsor tower and destroyed wattson’s home, but. Whatever.

tl dr of the chapter: crypto and wattson talk to each other while doing nerd shit, crypto laughs at wattson’s bad pun, and then suddenly they’re BESTIEEEES, until a couple dozen lines later in the same chapter. then they’re Not.

crypto’s drone gets hacked by revenant while everyone was kind of on edge after the reveal of a spy in their midst, he gets framed as the spy by caustic, anddddd wattson gets upset.

before i get into how dumb this storyline is, i’m gonna talk about the set-up to this conflict.

we have been given no reason to believe that these characters have ever talked to each other, and quite frankly, their friendship doesn’t really make sense.

ignoring the fact that crypto destroyed wattson’s home--which she probably doesn’t know about, so that’s forgiven for now--crypto is a paranoid guy. in the lore book he makes people stand on fucking footprints in his house so he can scan them for weapons and listening devices, and he apparently doesn’t stick around much after the games and nobody knows anything about him because he doesn’t talk to them.

a key part of crypto’s story is the fact that he is undercover and afraid of anyone finding out anything about him ever. him becoming friends with wattson kind of comes out of the blue, and we’re not even given a reason as to why they supposedly became close in the first place. i would kind of understand if like, maybe he draws parallels with her and mila in his mind and it makes him open up a little more, but that doesn’t happen. he just laughs at her joke and suddenly they’re friends.

maybe they’re trying to go for this ‘wattson can become friends with anybody’ angle, kind of hinted at with caustic but not really we’ll get into that, but that also? kind of doesn’t make sense since so many of her voice lines straight-up say she doesn’t understand people and electricity is more her thing, but honestly, she also does have those really friendly elements in her voice lines too, so its not as egregious as what they did with crypto.

their sudden out-of-the-blue friendship would’ve been fine if they spent a little more time fleshing it out, and giving us something to work with, but instead, the story immediately tries to rip it apart and frame it as this grand conflict where crypto is framed as the mole, crypto then accuses caustic, and wattson feels betrayed.

except it doesn’t really work, because we don’t give a shit. for several reasons. 

one: crypto and wattson became friends and then ended their friendship in the same exact chapter. they did not speak to each other onscreen until this chapter began, you can read the entire quest on the wiki and see for yourself that their interactions up until that point were nonexistent aside from mentions in the narration that they were building something together.

the reason wattson feels betrayed is kind of stupid too. why does she really care that much if one of them betrayed loba? nobody else really cared about the fact that one of them was a spy, in fact, nobody even seems to like loba that much, and they just found out that loba’s been lying to them this whole time, and wattson was conscious for that conversation and had a speaking line, so she’s fully aware of the situation. 

maybe it’s just like, the idea that one of them lied, but that’s still kind of a weak reason. 

this entire betrayal thing is just dumb, and it gets even worse when you realize that there could have been an actual legitimate reason for wattson to feel betrayed by crypto--even if it still would’ve come across as weak conflict because of their newly established friendship, it would’ve made more sense than this. 

Crypto destroyed Wattson’s home. He took down the tower and then all the flyers and stuff invaded Kings Canyon and made it their bitch. Not only that, but Wattson considers the Syndicate her family. The Syndicate are the very people who framed Crypto for murder and he’s trying to take them down. 

They could’ve set up actual conflict with these things, and it almost seemed like they would, because Caustic briefly brings up that Crypto could be working with Revenant because he has something against the Syndicate but then that doesn’t really go anywhere and we’re just back to Wattson feeling betrayed because either Crypto or Caustic was a spy and she doesn’t know who.

Weak conflict could’ve been made better by a strong relationship and a weak relationship could’ve still been interesting with strong conflict, but both the relationship between Crypto and Wattson and the conflict that drives them splitting up as friends were really weak and didn’t make much sense. 

It would’ve been ten times more interesting if Wattson found out Crypto ruined her home, the arena she grew up in, and was now participating in the Games to take out the people she regards as her family. That’s where her distrust could’ve manifested and conflict could’ve began, but instead it was the stupid betraying loba thing. why do you care. you just started talking to this guy like 2 hours ago.

also caustic’s whole reason for framing crypto feels stupid as fuck. he didn’t just frame crypto randomly, he framed him specifically because he doesn't want him to influence wattsob because he likes her Big Brain, but this is the FIRST time we have seen those two interact. 

what influence is he talking about? wraith and wattson have been shown to be friendly with each other in the trailers, according to tom’s tweets, and in the story too so why doesn’t he frame her? at this point the audience had slightly more build-up for those two’s relationship than crypto and wattson and a betrayal storyline would’ve felt a little more deserved if still weak.

this is the point where i briefly want to touch upon shipping, and the fact that part of this conflict feels driven by shipbait. 

aside from their relationship coming out of nowhere and the writers trying to make the stakes seem high and deeply emotional to the characters involved (despite this essentially being the first time they’ve ever interacted) tom casiello literally addresses shippers in a tweet regarding chapter seven, and as the story between these characters progresses, it becomes clear to me, at least that the crypto-wattson thing is just bait for shippers, and it’s lazy. 

it’s easy to get away with giving your characters little to no relationship development if you’re just counting on shippers to do the heavy mental lifting for you

why should i put any effort into making this relationship seem believable? people are going to see a young guy and a young girl having bare minimum interaction and assume there’s romantic interest! then i don’t have to do any work, see look, it’s a ready-made relationship wrapped in a bow for me! all that’s left for me to do is give them conflict so i can keep teasing shippers with lines like ‘you never deserved her’!

i think it’s reasonable for me to suspect shipbait, since tom casiello likes doing darksparks shipbait on twitter, and i’m like, eighty percent sure mirage and bloodhound suddenly being childhood friends in the book is shipbait too, because these characters were the number one ship in apex for a long time despite little to no interaction, and then all of a sudden in the lore book they’re childhood friends despite this literally never being mentioned before?

like bloodhound is set up to be mysterious and nobody knows what they look like, or where they’re from, or who their family is--except for mirage Apparently, who played with them when he was a kid on their home planet, and has seen them with their mask off, because bloodhound did not wear a mask when their parents were still alive.

its weird.

i’m pretty sure they’ve said somewhere they were working on this book before apex even came out, so i could just be completely wrong and they always planned for mirage and bloodhound to know each other, but if that’s the case, why did they never mention it like they did octane and lifeline?

i refuse to believe MIRAGE never brought it up either like ‘heeeeyy bloodhound remember when we used to throw eggs at our parents lab haha wanna go do to that to bangalore’s room’ 

[silence]

‘good talk buddy’

ANYWAYS I GOT OFF TOPIC. POINT IS, shipping is a detriment to the story because the writers don’t feel like they actually have to put any work into establishing or developing the relationship between characters when they know the community’s just going to do it for them anyways, and that they can put in shipbait and it’s fine and it makes sense when it really doesn’t.

imagine watching captain america civil war after not seeing a single other marvel movie.

why would you care about the avengers splitting up or tony and steve butting heads or steve’s commitment to bucky? you wouldn’t care, at least not as much as someone who’s seen all the movies and knows the relationship between the characters and why the sokovia accords exist in the first place. you don’t have context and you don’t have any reason to be emotionally invested in these characters’ relationship.

 this feels like that. the writers tried to squeeze this relationship and stuff into a single chapter and we don’t fucking care unless we were already invested in the idea of their relationship (shippers) because we barely spent any time with it.

so to summarize this little section, the set-up of this storyline Kinda Sucks! crypto and wattson barely seem to know each other, because we the audience barely saw them together and the writers are relying on shipbait in place of a relationship.

wattson and caustic are a little better but not great, but the conflict is stupid and it only gets stupider.

moving onto summarizing the rest of the broken ghost, gibraltar and caustic talk, caustic LITERALLY confesses to being the mole and says he framed crypto so he couldn’t corrupt wattson and to appear innocent because his identity was suspected, then that wraps up the season storyline.

season six begins with new voice lines, where wattson has had enough of crypto and caustic’s shit and is all passive-aggressive and going ‘this doesn’t change anything’. she has to decide who to trust, and how to figure out The Truth for herself because she’s not a little girl anymore. crypto and caustic are both trying to convince her they’re innocent and it creates some interesting conflict.

just kidding. it’s terrible conflict. you want to know why?

BECAUSE GIBRALTAR TRIED TO TELL HER THE TRUTH, RIGHT AFTER THE SEASON 5 QUEST HAPPENED, AND SHE LITERALLY REFUSED TO HEAR IT.

LIKE THERE’S A SEASON 6 LOADING SCREEN WHERE HE’S TELLING EVERYONE THE TRUTH ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHEN HE GETS TO WATTSON AND IS LIKE HEY I KNOW WHO THE MOLE WAS AND WHY THEY DID IT, SHE JUST GOES i dont wanna hear it. i need to think

IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH WHY ARE YOU REFUSING TO HEAR IT

SHE SPENDS ALMOST TWO ENTIRE SEASONS MAD AT CRYPTO FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO BECAUSE SHE TOLD GIBRALTAR TO FUCK OFF WHEN HE TRIED TO TELL HER WHAT HAPPENED

ITS SO DUMB

i think it was towards the end of season 6 or the beginning of season 7 where apex posted this picture of wattson asleep at her desk where she has a letter from gibraltar on it that looks like it tells her the truth, so she knows now, she knows what happened, but NOW her issue is the fact that she doesn’t know anything about crypto.

WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN DAMAGE. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BLOODHOUND EITHER ARE YOU THIS UPSET WITH BLOODHOUND TOO?? HAVE YOU EVER TALKED TO PATHFINDER. DO YOU HATE PATHFINDER TOO

oh but she was friends with crypto and now she’s mad that he lied to her EXCEPT THEIR RELATIONSHIP WASN’T BUILT UP WELL SO IT JUST FEELS STUPID. THEY SPENT LONGER BEING NOT-FRIENDS THAN THEY SPENT BEING FRIENDS. THEY BECAME FRIENDS IN ONE CHAPTER AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AT THE END OF THAT CHAPTER THEIR FRIENDSHIP ENDED AND THEN WATTSON SPENT LIKE 2 SEASONS MAD AT HIM FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO . 

AND THE WRITERS TRIED TO RECTIFY THIS BY SAYING OH SHE’S NOT MAD ABOUT THE TRAITOR THING SHE’S MAD BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM AND IT’S LIKE WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT MAKE THAT CLEAR WHY DOES SHE SAY ‘IT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU DID’ IN HER VOICE LINES WHY DOES SHE CALL HIM A TRAITOR IF HER CONFLICT WAS HER NOT KNOWING MUCH ABOUT HIM . WHAT DID HE DO. 

HE JUST STOOD THERE AND LAUGHED AT HER JOKE AND THEN HE GOT FRAMED AND THEN THAT WAS THE END OF THE CHAPTER AND NOW SHES SUDDENLY LIKE IM ACTUALLY MAD BECAUSE YOURE A LIAR AND I CANT TRUST YOU EVEN THOUGH I NOW KNOW YOU WERE FRAMED I STILL DO NOT LIKE YOU AND HES LIKE YEAH THATS MY FAULT

The Caustic voicelines are stupid too, again his reason for framing Crypto was stupid and a lot of his voicelines just seem to be that shipbait thing again but like from the angle of overprotective dad who doesn’t like the new boyfriend. it’s stupid but not as egeregious as this next part which is

crypto telling wattson his identity.

CRYPTO was framed for MURDER and is paranoid and can’t trust anyone and doesn’t talk to anyone and the last time he did talk to someone he got framed for Another thing and the person he was talking to turned her back on him and actively refused to know the truth for like 2 seasons and then he went This Is Fine I Can Tell Her My Identity

the stupidest update to this storyline was crypto telling wattson the truth

why did they do it on the dropship where there are presumably syndicate members and other legends around.

why didn’t he scan wattson for listening devices like he did for pathfinder in the book.

why is he telling her his identity when he knows she has very close ties to the people that FRAMED HIM for MURDER. Does he trust her that much? WHY? They spoke to each other in a chapter and then spent two seasons not talking to each other beyond passive-aggressive BS. why are you so fucking stupid taejoon

their relationship was so poorly set-up that even if the writers maybe intended for them to come across as close friends who had spent weeks bonding, it really feels like they became friends in a single conversation, had a falling out, and now crypto suddenly trusts her with his identity after an undetermined amount of time because he wants to be friends again. 

that does not make SENSE this conflict feels contrived AS FUCK and the resolution feels even worse and unearned UGGGHHHH

it honestly comes across as crypto feeling desperate for friendship, and maybe this would’ve worked better if that’s the angle they played it as.

he’s been alone for roughly two years, and just wants a friend, and he’s honestly so lonely he just breaks down to the first person who’s really talked to him. it could’ve been an interesting little part of his character, and they could've gone into depth about how much this situation has affected him, but that’s not what they’re doing. he’s still paranoid and anxious and doesn’t trust anyone, except for wattson, because the plot needs him to or else there won’t be any stupid soap opera drama.

and to rub salt in the wound, wattson’s new voice lines with caustic have him telling her that she forgave crypto.

WHAT ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR. ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR BEING FRAMED? WHY DID HE HAVE TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE THE ONE WHO REFUSED TO HEAR THE TRUTH?

 did the conversation just go hey my real name is taejoon park and something bad happened to me and she went aight i forgive you WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Caustic’s new voice lines to Crypto where he’s like ‘what did you tell her’--YOU TOLD GIBRALTAR STRAIGHT-UP YOUR EVIL MASTER PLAN LIKE A SUPERVILLAIN AND NOW YOU’RE SURPRISED WATTSON AND CRYPTO ARE ON GOOD TERMS NOW?!

THAT’S LIKE TELLING SOMEONE YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER AND THEN BEING SURPRISED WHEN YOU BECOME THE VICTIM OF IDENTITY FRAUD. YOU SET YOURSELF UP FOR THIS WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE CRYPTO DID SOMETHING SINISTER OR LIED OR WHATEVER. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY DO YOU HAVE LIKE 3 BRAINCELLS

this is at like ten pages already so i’m going to just try and wrap this up quickly. 

it’s frustrating seeing this storyline play out when there are actually good relationships and storylines written into apex. i’m kind of getting tired of the loba and revenant conflict, but we at least had set-up to it in the form of a few animated shorts and it doesn’t play out as stupidly as this story does. bangalore and loba’s friendship is actually developed well, even if the point between the end of season 5 and season 6 where they suddenly talk like each other feels like it could’ve used a little more. 

where crypto and wattson having an established friendship in the broken ghost failed, lifeline and octane’s established friendship works because we’ve been told since octane’s release they were childhood friends and given lore materials that indicate they’ve known each other for a very long time.

apex wants this storyline between crypto and wattson and caustic to feel dramatic and tense and ultimately rewarding when crypto and wattson did become friends for real and stuff, but instead it just comes across as hollow and empty. 

there’s nothing there. it’s a case of tell, don’t show, and it looks like this stupid conflict is gonna keep going for another couple of seasons at this rate. 

side note: this entire script was written before the new twitter comics

please tell me ur thoughts and feel free to respond with ur own lil essay

also believe it or not this is not the "shipping is a detriment to apex's story" essay i was gonna write this is a completely different essay that has some overlap SKXISOSOW

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-22)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Anxiety, feels, light flirting?

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Hey peeps, just wanted to thank you guys for all the love. Y’all are awesome! <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Thank you, babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Jesus, kid! Don’t you ever pull that one on me again, okay?”

Max was trying to escape his embrace, but Sam didn’t budge. His heart was still beating out a disjointed rhythm.  

“I didn’t do anything!” Max protested.

Alex was quick to interject. “You ran out on me.”        

Max turned in the circle of his arms glaring at Alex. “Only because you fell asleep.”

Alex’s face got all red and she sneaked a nervous glance at Sam.

“She’s got school in the morning,” Sam told Max. “She was tired. That doesn’t mean you can run out on her.”

“This isn’t the first time either,” Alex put in, emboldened by Sam’s support. “He ran to her on Sunday as well.”

“What’s this, Max?” Sam didn’t want to make his voice stern, but the fear wasn’t helping. Alex had called him towards the end of his meeting to tell him she couldn’t find Max. Sam’s heart had dropped through the ground at the mere thought. By the time he could ask Chase to pull out his car- Sam’s was still parked in the campus- a second call from Alex had already informed him that Max was back and okay. But Sam couldn’t stay put. He’d made Chase drive him back anyway.

“She’s my friend.” Max muttered.

“You’ve only met her twice!” Alex accused.

Max threw Alex a betrayed look, mumbling to himself.

Sam rubbed his face with his hand. “What’s happening?”

Alex started to say something, but Max interjected. “I want to tell him!”

“Alright, go on.”

Max told him about a new friend he’d made in one of the buildings along the playground, and that he was going to see her on Monday again.

Sam shot a look at Alex to confirm and she nodded encouragingly. Falling asleep on the watch might have been a one time thing, otherwise Alex was both smart and thorough. She wouldn’t have agreed to anything that wasn’t safe for Max.

“I can go, right?”

“Only if you promise to never go out by yourself.”

Max made an excited sound. “Yes!”

“Okay, enough of this moping,” Chase announced. He had been standing uncharacteristically quiet, watching the drama unfold. “Alex gets to sleep, Max gets his date and Sam gets to chill. What does Chase get?”

Sam turned to him. “What do you want?”

“Food. I want food.”

Alex waved to Max, who didn’t acknowledge it. He was still mad about ratting him out. “Bye, Sam. Bye, Mr. Lincoln.”

Sam nodded, and Chase waved at her cheerfully.

Sam let go of Max, not really looking him in the eyes, lest he should sense just how freaked out Sam was. That’s not what kids should see in their parents- the fear of being incompetant. Sam had learned as much from Dean. His older brother had been absolutely confident in every decision he’d made for Sam. It was only in the later years that Sam realised how freaked out Dean must have been attempting to raise Sam, even with Bobby and Karen’s help. They were all always second guessing themselves. 

The next hour was spent on a call with Stacey. She debriefed Sam about the end of the meeting, promising to forward the transcripts after she was done with editing them. He was lucky to have found someone as efficient as her. She was a blessing. Sam appreciated that her first words were of concern for Max. Stacey had designed Sam’s schedule in such a foolproof manner that Max was never neglected. He couldn’t have been more grateful. To think that they had started their work relationship disliking each other.

Sam took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of his anxiety. Just the very thought of losing Max was enough to decapitate him. Later, as he diced the bell-peppers, his eyes kept going to the sofa where Max was playing connect four with Chase, who was sucking bigtime. It was something they did at least once a week. Right now, Chase was going on at length about how awesome the cookies were, that he was stealing from a jar. Sam didn’t remember buying any cookies at all.

A sting in his finger made him hiss. Looking down, he saw blood spreading into the bell-pepper pieces and the surface of the chopping board.

The next minute small hands were taking his finger, blowing on the cut and guiding him towards the sink.

“You never pay attention!” Max admonished.

“What do you care?” Sam muttered, washing his finger under the steady stream. The cut wasn’t too deep. “It’s not like you don’t love worrying me.”

Max huffed. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“No, I’m not. Seriously, Max, do you want me to stop going to work? How am I supposed to concentrate on anything if you’re going to be a flight risk?”

“I wasn't running away from home, okay? I just went to see my friend.”

Sam knew he was overreacting but what else was there to do? Alex had sounded so frantic on the phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Sam eyed his son, turning off the tap. “Is it Lucy from school?”

“Ewww nooooo!” Max cringed, making a face. “I don’t like Lucy!”

“Of course you don’t,” Sam grinned. He added more seriously, “Don’t push Alex, okay? She might decide to not babysit you anymore.”

“It’s your fault really,” Max shrugged. Chase who had gone to retrieve the first aid box- it was ridiculous he even knew where that was in the house- handed Sam a bandaid. 

Sam gave Max an incredulous look. “How is any of this my fault?”

“If you got me a mom, we wouldn’t need a babysitter!”

Sam barely even had the time to pick his jaw up when Chase started howling with laughter. He raised his hand and Max high-fived him.

“Wha- what?” He spluttered. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I told you, you had this coming, Samuel,” Chase chuckled, superior. “Even your boy seems to be scoring more dates here. And look at the little daredevil sneaking out to get em. What’re you waiting for? Divine intervention?” He lowered his voice just for Sam’s ears. “Even Steve from HR gets laid more than you. And he smells like Kleenex!”

Sam glared at his friend. “That’s it. Get out of my house! I’m not responsible for feeding you.”

“Now, now,” Chase placated, putting his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders from behind and giving them a squeeze. “Look at these muscles. Such a waste to not have beautiful arms draped around them.”

“Well, there’s always you!”

Chase huffed, drawing back. “You don’t pay me any attention.”

Max giggled.

Sam turned to his son. “Max, having a mom doesn’t mean you won’t have a babysitter. Working mothers are a thing!”

“He’ll, at least, have quality food,” Chase put in. “All you feed him is vegetables.”

“You know what? I’m done with the both of you. Go back to that game you were playing.”

“No,” Chase shook his head. “This is more fun. Why aren’t you asking Jess out?”

“You know why.” Sam wasn’t as patient this time as he had been the last ten times, since Chase had been badgering him every damn minute. “Go wash your hands, Max. And help Uncle Chase set up the table.”

Max knew he was being dismissed, so he made a whole show of slowly dragging himself from the kitchen counter and heading upstairs at the speed of a snail. Once he was surely out of earshot, Sam hissed at his friend. “Drop it, Chase! You know it’s not going to happen. Besides, the last time was embarrassing enough. I don’t know how to face her.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “She’s a grown ass woman and super hot. You’re lucky she’s into you,” He paused, the sly grin dancing in his eyes. “That was like three or four years ago. She must be long past it.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I don’t know how else to convince you,” Chase sighed, dropping all the teasing at once. “Jess is successful, beautiful and so damn smart. If a girl like that can’t move you, I don’t know what else to do for you.”

“You can always give up.”

“No chance.” Chase ran his fingers through his hair. “I just keep trying to understand what’s holding you back.”

It was Sam’s turn to sigh. “I’m married.”

“No, you’re not!” Chase argued, with more emotion than Sam had expected, enough to make him face his friend. “This isn’t marriage, Sam. This is you holding on to something dead with both your hands. Let go before your hands start decaying.”

“Don’t say that.” The pain in his own voice depressed Sam. 

Chase grimaced. “What would I not give to see this girl! Who is she? Some supermodel? Is she gilded out of diamonds or something?”

It was no point going in circles with Chase over this. Sam knew from years of experience that he wouldn’t give up. 

“What was her name again?”

“It’s-” Sam’s gaze shifted to the base of the staircase and found Max standing there, face blank. “We’ll talk later,” Sam whispered, wondering how much Max had heard.

The dinner was a quiet affair. Sam knew it wasn’t so because Chase and Max were appreciating the sensory overload of how amazing his stir fry was. Chase was sulking and Max was lost in thought. After Chase had left for the night, Sam set to cleaning the kitchen. Max came to sit by him on the island counter, picking out a cookie from the jar Chase had abandoned. 

“How was your day?” Max asked and despite himself Sam chuckled. There was something so odd about the question coming out of a six and a half year old.

“T’was alright,” Sam told him. Most of it had been very boring, except for the evening scare and the morning lecture in which he was mere feet away from Y/N, every cell in his body hyper aware of the fact that she was there. It was pathetic and Sam knew it. “I do have a hearing tomorrow. I think we’ll win this one.”

“What’s it about?”

“Property fraud. Very interesting.”

Wiping the kitchen top, and hanging the rag on the hook over the sink, Sam came to sit by his son. “How was your day?”

“Very interesting.” Max smiled, but didn’t elaborate. Not wanting to flare up his earlier irritation, Sam didn’t ask him for the details either. Instead, he dipped his hand in the jar and drew out a Choco chip cookie.

“Is it because of me that you don’t go out on dates?”

Max’s voice was small, diminished even and it made Sam draw in a quick breath.

“Max!” He exhaled. “Why would you say that?”

His boy wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Uncle Chase is right. You don’t have any fun. I know it’s because you have to spend all your free time with me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sam stated outright, shaking his head. “I know you don’t because not one second of the time spent with you has been a sacrifice. You’re my son. You’ve got to know that I would do anything for you.”

“Except get me a mom.”

“Mom’s don’t grow on trees or fall out skies, Max.” Sam reasoned trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “And don’t you ever say that I don’t have fun in life. We have fun, don’t we? I love that and wouldn’t change it for any girl in the world.”

“Not even for Y/N?”

Sam faltered, aghast. Maybe it was because he was thinking about Y/N so much already, or because Max didn’t usually bring her up, but somewhere inside him there was a nagging feeling that he was missing something here. Max’s question was natural in the context of the conversation… but the very conversation felt out of context. Max knew very well what he meant to Sam, and even if a part of him thought that Sam was sacrificing for his sake- Sam fervently wished that wasn’t the case- the Max he knew would never bring it up this conversationally. 

So he answered with complete conviction. “No. Not even for Y/N.”

“And you get this through your head, Max,” he continued, voice pained despite his efforts. “You and I are already a complete family. I love you with everything that I have. So long as we are together, you’ll make do with just me, won’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

Sam ruffled Max’s hair, and kissed his brow, rankled by his words. Regardless of what Sam had just said, wouldn’t it be nice for Max to have a mom? Even in his imagination the face was perfectly clear, the vision already there. He’d be lying to himself if he said that over the years he hadn’t thought about her holding Max, laughing with him. There was only ever one face that completed Sam’s daydream- Y/N’s. But Sam also knew just how impossible it was. Y/N wouldn’t even think of the aftermath of an accident, imagining her as a motherly figure was simply cruel. So much that the whiplash of it hit Sam’s conscience. It was why he hadn’t mentioned Max to her.

Trying to reign in his thoughts he absentmindedly took a bite of the cookie in his hand, chewing as he tried to dislodge the idea of Max and Y/N. Impossible… too painful, his mind screamed.

Abruptly, he stopped.

“Hey, Max? Sam asked slowly, “Where did you get these cookies?” 

“Umm, those girl scouts came over this afternoon,” he said, not meeting Sam’s gaze. “I asked Alex to buy. Is that okay?”

“You sure these are girl scout cookies?”

“Yep.”

Eating the rest of the cookie in one bite, Sam jumped down from the counter and turned to his boy. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t think like that again,” Sam pleaded. “That you’re keeping me from anything. You saved me, kiddo. I would have been barely worth anything without you.”

“Same,” Max quipped. And despite the absolute horror of the situation, and how true both of their words were, Sam found himself snorting. 

“Enough with the black comedy,” he ordered, “Lets go brush your teeth.”

“Yessum.”

Max leapt into Sam’s arms, and he carried his boy out of the kitchen. Sam eyed the jar of cookies one last time before switching off the lights. 

Friday, first day of Induction fair. It was going to be one long day tomorrow.

*******************

“Alright, everybody clear on what they’re supposed to be doing tomorrow?” 

“It’s 11:30 in the night, Y/N,” Seth complained, “We aren’t going to be any more ready.”

“I’m sorry,” you waved apologetically. “You guys should go home, I’ll wrap up the rest. I’m just nervous.”

“It’ll be okay,” Madison came to your side, putting her arm around your shoulders. “Seth’s just kidding. Aren’t you?” She turned on the poor guy who shook his head and you snickered.

“Okay, pack up y’all!” You called out to the people in the background busy with the last checks on the sound system. “We’re going to have a blast tomorrow.”

Cheers went up around you. One by one everyone clapped you on your back, offered smiles and went their way; only Madison, Brad and Rebecca remained. 

“Who are you taking with you to the Saturday night dance?” Brad asked.

Well crap! “A friend of mine,” you answered. You’d have to ask one of the guys if they were free Saturday evening.

“Hmm… Does this friend happen to go to Law school?”

“Nope!”

“We’ll at least have time for one dance,” Brad insisted, leaning next to you as you packed your bag. “Your friend won’t mind, will he?”

“Brad,” you sighed. “I’m clearly not your type.”

He put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not implying anything here, but if that’s what you got out of it…”

You ignored him, walking back towards Maddie. He kept up with you easily. “What about the dance? One dance is well deserved.”

“Okay, fine!” Better to just agree and get it done with. Brad left with a superior smirk and you wondered what was the deal with him.

“Brad’s a great guy,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know what kind of Prince Charming you’re waiting for that you keep turning him down at every opportunity.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” It was true. You had found someone who could put Prince Charming to shame and then you had lost him. Now, the most you could hope for was his friendship. The thinly veiled bitterness and longing in Rebecca’s voice when she spoke of Brad led you to believe that her dislike for you wasn’t reasonless after all.

At the quad, you stopped, letting the girls know that you’d be heading towards the library, to relieve Molly from her shift early. It was supposed to be your shift anyway, Molly was doing you a favor by subbing. 

“I’ll come with you,” Madison quipped. She waved a goodbye to Rebecca and the two of you set towards the library, your footsteps echoing in the night. 

Once Molly had left, Madison logged into one of the records PC’s and started working on the case studies for professor Whitman. Meanwhile, you logged into your mail to print out the schedules and itineraries for the speakers tomorrow.

Just as you were printing out the last set, your email pinged, alerting you to an email from Sam. It was ridiculous that your heart should leap out of your chest, especially when it was merely a reply to your assignment. It was past one, and Sam was still up checking coursework. 

Oh, how you wanted to reply back, ask him why he was up this late. But this was an official email ID. It would be wrong to get personal here. Unreasonable as it was, you were miffed that you didn’t have Sam’s phone number. Friends should be able to call each other, right? You could always find it out from the directory, however, you were stubborn about getting it from him.

“Hey, I just heard back from Professor Winchester,” Madison whispered, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the library. “I scored a 21.5!”

“That’s great!” You smiled.

“What about you? Did you hear from him yet?”

“Just. Scored a 23.”

Madison scrunched her nose, “I bet that’s the highest.” She sounded rueful, but you knew she didn’t mean any ill. “You mind if I take a look at your paper?”

“Course not.”

Madison read through your document carefully. “I can see why he rated you this high. This is great work, Y/N! I wonder…”

“What?”

She looked bemused. “In my email, he’s specifically pointed out all the good things and complemented me for my good work. In your reply he’s only pointed out the one flaw that cost you the two marks. He’s not said one good word about the rest.”

Maybe he thought you would understand, or maybe he was just too tired. If not commenting on your essay earned him ten extra minutes of rest, you were very glad that he hadn't.

You shrugged at Madison. “Maybe he forgot.”

“That’s not done,” she frowned. “You should ask him tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

A glazed look came over Madison’s face. “Remember the first time we were alone here?”

“We’d been trying to research for Mr. Winchester’s first assignment,” you smiled.

“And ended up stalking him instead,” Madison winked. “After I went home that day, I read up more about that sensationalised case of his. Really gruesome, the whole deal. Never pinned him for the type of lawyer to take up a criminal law case, let alone homicides.”

“What’s there to fight for in a criminal homicide?” You wondered. “Isn’t that DA’s job?”

You remembered a little from what you had read with Madison that day, over a month ago. Twin homicides followed by a legal battle over property inheritance. The deceased’s brother vs. the deceased son. There were also connected matters of custodial rights, abuse charges and adoption.

“It was really scandalous, Y/N,” Madison said. “You wouldn’t know because you didn’t live in California. It was all over the papers and news in LA. Ralph Simmons was this bigshot producer, and his on and off girlfriend- both of them shot by some drug pimp. A whole big racket came out with it. I think Mr. Winchester moved out of LA to avoid the fanfare that followed him everywhere afterwards.”

“When was this?” 

“Ummm… about two and half years ago,” Madison said. 

So before he started teaching at Stanford, and before his job at Acton Griswold. 

“Why would he leave a successful firm in LA and move base to SF?” You asked out loud. “That too after a successful stint? It doesn’t make sense.”

To your surprise, Madison laughed. “Oh, firms must be dying to have him. Even my dad offered. Apart from offering a junior partnership, Acton Gris must have paid him a ton of money. Besides, his working hours are more like a consultants, so he can manage classes. That’s a lot of relaxations- only someone with that sort of fanfare would have been able to negotiate a deal.”

It wasn’t the money. That much you knew. Something else had made Sam uproot his life in LA and move here. 

“Uhg! I really want to work with him, Y/N,” Madison let out. “I really want the summer internship at Acton Gris.” Seeing your expression, she quickly added, “It’s not why you think. I mean sure he’s super hot and all that, but I’ve looked up to him for his ethics, and the way he thinks. He’s just such a great lawyer.”

“Sure is.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” She said in a defeated voice. “Rich girl with a firm to her name, who could get in Acton Gris by recommendation as a favor. What’s the big deal, right?”

“Maddie, I wasn’t thinking that-”

“It’s alright if you do. Everyone does.”

You placed your hand on top of hers. “I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I care about you. The Madison I know is intelligent and hardworking, who deserves whatever she sets her heart to. Law is a lucrative practice. As long as you aren’t screwing over someone else, you should use whatever means you can.”

Madison’s eyes welled up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder if I even have any real friends who care about me. Becca… Lace, Mer… they all feel like friendships of convenience than actual substance. You’re the only one I’m sure will be happy to see me succeed in life.”

Your heart reached out for Madison. She was a good person who didn’t deserve to feel this way. Slowly you reached out and put your arms around her. “Maddie,” You breathed in her hair, not knowing what else to say. You had always known she was hurting inside without her having told you. Her relations seemed frivolous to you, but by the looks of it, her family life wasn’t much good either. Deep down she was convinced that her parents, her brothers didn’t love her. What must it be like to live that way?

You’d never been rich in your life except for those short married months, but not for a minute had you questioned the love of any person you called family. How was one supposed to live on without having the assurance of being absolutely loved?

The way you’ve lived for the past six and a half years, a small voice whispered in your brain. You quelled it immediately.

“Madison,” you said firmly this time. “I love you. And I’ll always support you. To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

She hugged you closer, and you felt her broken breaths against your body. She didn’t want you to see her cry, so you held on till all her tears had dried.

********

You probably looked exactly how you felt- sleepless and exhausted. The first half of day one had gone smoothly with all introductions in place. Over two hundred and fifty alumni had RSVP’d for the event and forty two had agreed to speak or participate in panel discussions. You had been told this was one of the biggest turnouts ever. Instead of feeling like you had succeeded, you just felt more scared. Organised activity wasn’t your cup of tea. Right about then you were questioning how you even ended up heading this committee.

Everyone seemed to be asking for you, everyone had some or the other work with you and the tasks were never ending. The first time that you got a minute to sit was towards the end of lunch break. You dropped into the seat at the far end of the auditorium, head in your hands.

“Here!”

You turned your face to see Sam sitting next to you with a bottle of water in his hand. Unlike his usual self, he was dressed in a light knit grey sweater and jeans today. His glasses hung from the V-shaped neckline, revealing just enough for you to see the glint of his chain. You were so exhausted, all you wanted to do was fall against his shoulder and close your eyes for just two seconds. Sighing, you took the bottle from him and drank to your heart’s content.

“Maybe doing the late night shift at the library wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

You frowned. “How do you know?”

“The register,” He said. “I went to the library in the morning to return my book.”

“I thought you were avoiding the library like the plague.” The words slipped out before you could think them through. You hoped the bitter edge in them wasn’t very obvious. 

“I would come if I could, you know?”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked, belligerent, “Too scared to go back home in the dark?”

You knew it was unfair to put him in a spot like this. He had a home, his own bed. Why would he spend his nights at the library just because you worked there? Just because he hadn’t talked to you all that much lately, or given you his phone number, didn’t mean you had the right to be irritated at him. 

“Y/N-” he sighed, and before he could add on to that, he was interrupted. 

“There you are!” 

Chase Lincoln put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

You straightened your expression under the pretense of drinking more water, and handed the bottle back to Sam.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, standing up, “I must hurry back now. If you’ll excuse me.”

Sam stood up with you. The errant thought of resting against his shoulder made an appearance but you shoved it away violently. 

“Wait,” Sam put his hand out to block you. You looked around you to see if anyone else had noticed. No one but Chase.

“Let me introduce the two of you,” he said.

“Wait, I know you,” Chase interjected. “You work with Molly, right? And you’re heading the organising committee.” 

“Chase,” Sam said with gravity, making his friend focus, the green eyes sharpened on you.

Exhaling slowly, Sam turned to you. “This is Chase Lincoln. He works with me at Acton Griswold.” You heard the unsaid words- ‘He’s the one I was talking with that day in the coffee shop; my friend.”

“Chase.” Sam’s voice was heavy, the way Atlas’s might have sounded after a millennia of holding up the earth. There was defeat in it. “This- this is Y/N.”

Each time Sam uttered your name, a warmth settled in your chest. You suspected it was just your eternally besotted mind making up the idea that his voice grew softer when he said it. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, for Chase’s eyes narrowed as he took in the look on Sam’s face, then went wide in a split second. His head rapidly moved from you to Sam in a matter of moments, before his jaw dropped.

“S-... Your… “ Speech seemed to have temporarily evaded Chase. 

“No diamonds,” Sam murmured.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted for you from two rows down. “There’s a problem with the mic. You need to check it out.”

“Ex- Excuse me,” you mumbled, hurrying away from Chase’s astounded stare. Maybe he knew it all, that didn’t particularly surprise you. What did surprise you was how Sam had decidedly made the introduction- as if Chase had to know. 

As it turned out, the mic had only been disconnected. It was working absolutely fine. You were still grateful to have been removed from Chase’s presence, glad that you didn’t have to wait around to witness his judgement. 

The rest of the day flew by faster than you could have guessed. Most of the heavy panel discussions were scheduled for the first day itself. You were blown away by the immense knowledge and expertise of those people, which was a good thing because you desperately needed a distraction. 

You only saw Sam afterwards, once everything was over and the alumni were all catching up with each other, like old friends, reminiscing about the time they had spent together. Even though it was a lot of people there, your eyes kept going to Sam in his thin sweater, in a deep conversation with an aged man, who was laughing at something Sam had said.

“One down, two more days to go,” mumbled Madison. She was leaning against your back. “Can we just sleep here?”

“I told you to come home with me last night,” Rebecca stated, appearing out of nowhere. This time she had Lacey and Meredith with her. “Why did you have to stay up at the library?”

Usually Madison would’ve at least tried to answer. Today, her forehead and nose just dug deeper into your back. You pursed your lips so the smile wouldn’t spill over. She was taking a stand for how she deserved to be treated.

“Well, shit!” Lacey said. “Looks like I wasn’t wrong after all.”

Rebecca groaned. “Ugh she looks like an uptight bimbo.”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation till Meredith said, “She’s definitely into professor Hotchester.”

Your head snapped up in Sam’s direction, but he was out of the straight line of your vision. Obscuring him was a girl, dressed in a pretty blue chiffon top and tight fitting pencil skirt. Her five inches long pumps caught the light of the setting sun and gleamed. She was tall and beautiful, statuesque in the way a swimsuit model is, her blonde hair fell to the middle of her back in perfect curls. 

As you watched, she threw her hands around Sam’s neck and hugged him tightly. He willingly embraced her, too. You chanced a glance of the smile on his face as she disentangled and laughed, touching Sam’s chest lightly with her hand. 

“Yeah, there’s something there,” Lacey whistled.

“Wonder who she is,” Madison whispered, so only you could hear.

You didn’t need to wonder who it was, you already knew. Jessica Moore. Sam’s Ex-girlfriend.

*******************

A/N 2: I kinda really like the next chapter. I think it speaks more about about the sort of writer and person that I am than most things I’ve written yet. Can’t wait to share it with y’all.

So any predictions? ;)

Thank you for all the reblogs and comments! Not gonna lie, life’s been kicking my butt a lot lately. Believe it or not, all of your love really helps <3

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

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[neurodiverse-myfanwy]

I Still Can Hear Your Laugh When I Play the Phonograph

a/n: Some more follower celebration! This was prompted by @autisticpenelopegarcia (I love your url by the way) who asked for Jack and Ianto bonding over being neurodivergent and infodumping to each other. I got the title from the lyrics of Cecily Smith by Will Connolly. That song gives me Much serotonin and... I feel like it's at least a little relevant? WC: 720

By the time Jack Harkness met one Ianto Jones, he had spent several lifetimes existing, living, learning, being interested and uninterested in the things he saw, the things he experienced, the things he was taught.

He rarely had met a man as enthusiastic as himself about interests.

Jack watched Ianto fondly. He wasn’t quite sure what Ianto was saying--they had moved past things Jack actually understood about pterosaurs long ago--but Ianto’s hands still moved animatedly, and he wore a rare grin that Jack dare not point out lest Ianto draw back in on himself.

“And that,” Ianto finally said, “is why I think Myfanwy likes dark chocolate.”

Jack nodded. “How do you know all this?” he asked. He knew he was enamored, but what he wouldn’t give to hear Ianto’s voice for all of his infinitely long life, or to see that smile until time itself ended.

Ianto thought about the question for a moment. “I learned about the more recent discoveries by subscribing to scientific journals,” he said, “but I think I’ve known some of it my whole life.”

Ianto fascinated Jack in a way very few people did.

Jack would flirt with anything that moved and shag anything that could (and did) consent, but the last time he had felt this… before Lucia, even. Estelle. The last time he had felt this strongly, the last person he had cherished so deeply was Estelle. There was the Doctor, of course, but the Doctor was as much the opposite of a fixed point in time and space as it was possible to be, and Jack wasn’t sure if he really came after Estelle when he also came before her in Jack’s ever-so-complicated timeline.

Estelle had fascinated him in much the same way. She loved to know things, to understand the world around her, and her enchantment with “fairies” had been so similar to Ianto’s own appreciation of pterosaurs. Even though she had been wrong, ultimately, about the fairies, she had done all the research she could, and could talk about them for hours if someone let her, and that was what had drawn Jack to her in the same way he was drawn to Ianto now.

So Ianto fascinated Jack in a way very few people did, but what drew him ever further into his devotion to Ianto (an emotion that frightened him, terrified him even) was that Ianto seemed just as fascinated by Jack.

Ianto’s facial expressions didn’t always match up with what Jack expected from the majority of people around him, but he had learned to recognize the microexpressions that meant that Ianto was listening intently, that meant that Ianto was adoring him, that meant that Ianto was happy or sad or angry or afraid. And more and more, as they began to date, as they began to spend time together, as Ianto invited Jack to move in with him, Ianto gave him those expressions of adoration and listening.

They reached the door to Ianto’s flat--their flat--and Ianto fumbled with the keys for a moment. Jack had learned that Ianto’s fine motor skills left something to be desired, and there was always that moment of scrabbling with the key before it would fit neatly into the lock. It had been frustrating once upon a time, but now Jack was beginning to find himself endeared to it. At least Ianto always knew where his keys were, unlike Jack, who was lucky if they ended up in the same place twice in a month.

In the front room of Ianto’s flat was an antique gramophone that Jack swore hadn’t been there two days ago.

Ianto watched Jack’s face with that intense focus he wore when he was listening to Jack infodump or when he was working in the archives. Frankly, Jack thought, even if he hadn’t been watching at all he wouldn’t have missed the emotions that crossed Jack’s face. Eventually, after shock, disbelief, excitement, realization, and more excitement, he settled on kissing Ianto.

Ianto blinked, a little surprised, before leaning into the kiss.

It was several minutes before they pulled apart completely.

“You were talking about music the other day,” Ianto explained. “You seemed so happy talking about dance bands and the record player Estelle had….” He didn’t get a chance to finish, because Jack was kissing him again.

[lithyena]

What less social media is doing to me

I've deleted my Instagram app a month ago and it's been amazing. I've been using that app intensly for about 4 years, which was mostly a lot of fun, but I've also had my moments where I just wanted to delete it all. There were always things that made me stay though, like keeping up with my friends and just enjoying creating content. But I finally did it, the app is gone and I feel amazing.

The second I deleted it I was so relieved. I felt like I could breathe and this big chaotic and messy IG drawer in my head was free to go into the bin. Yes, Instagram was always swirling in my mind and ever since deleting it I've noticed just how much it's been present in there.

Chapter 1 • how social media can be toxic

I would spend so much time thinking about what I could post on my feed, what would look good, what place I could arrange aesthetically so I could take a nice picture. Sometimes taking pictures would take so much time, without even taking into account how much time I spent editing the pictures, deciding on what order I could post them in and what caption to use. Oh man, the CAPTIONS. I could not for the life of me ever come up with a caption. That shit must've taken up so much time of my life and I was often so fed up with that part of it, but I felt like I had to. It was a whole thing.

Next to that I would spend my days off doing makeup, putting outfits together and taking a million pictures just for the sake of posting some on IG. I did it solely for making content, I was setting a scene that just took so much effort. I didn't have to go anywhere or do it for myself, so it didn't go naturally, you know? It's hard to describe, but I hope you get the gist.

So like I said, I would dress up just for pictures and it would always make me so tired. It's a routine I got used to, but I didn't enjoy doing it. I'd get ready, take pictures, then edit them and be super tired because I've spent hours doing it. I never did it for myself and yes, while it is fun to look back on and see those aesthetically pleasing pictures, the joy of seeing that doesn't outweigh the negative feelings and effort it took to create them.

There is nothing wrong with taking time to create pictures of course, if you enjoy doing it, all the more power to you! It's just not something I'm going to do to myself anymore. I'll still dress up, but only if I have another reason for it, then the pictures will be a fun extra!

So yea, personally for me it's just become very toxic and it took up too much of my time. Not only because of what I've talked about, but also the fact that there's friends who post pictures and stories and me wanting to keep up with those aswell. It just became a bit too much.

Chapter 2 • the positive changes

There's so many things I want to do in my free time. Like keeping up with my hobbies, go outside and walk around in forests, doing things in life and really be present while doing so. When I was active on instagram I'd constantly think about creating content and with everything I did I'd debate whether or not it'd be fun to capture it for my story. Taking that away made me be so much more present, my mind is much more focused on the things that matter and spending my time not in front of a electric rectangle device has just become so precious.

Beautiful things I see or little moments I have are just for me now, they're not tainted by taking pictures of it and taking time to upload it to a silly social platform. It's just happening in the moment and I'm there to capture it into my memories alone. It's so nice.

Here are some things I've noticed since deleting the app:

• My mind isn't super chaotic anymore

• I register more that's going on around me, I'm more present in life

• I'm not as fussy about appearance

• I'm more positive

• there's no weight constantly dragging me down

• I just generally feel better about myself

It's the little things, like not caring as much about my hair anymore. I used to be so focused on the way it looked at all times, because you know, what if I felt like taking a picture? I just made everything so complicated for myself.

Now I care so much less about my hair and it's given me the freedom to play around with it a lot. Because if it doesn't look good it doesn't matter! The thing that matters most now is comfort and me having fun with it. But the funny thing is that it actually looks better now that I'm not being so careful with it anymore, haha!

I'm also taking so much less pictures of just insignificant shit. I don't need to keep up with an IG story or constantly search for pictures that look aesthetic enough to maybe post on my feed. I don't whip out my phone for every little thing and it just feels so freeing to not have that going on in my head all the time anymore.

Chapter 3 • put time in happy things

I was afraid of missing out, but every time I log onto Twitter now I'm just like 🤷 I really don't miss anything. It's just a lot of noise and useless information that I used to consume so much, but really don't see the need of consuming anymore. My quality of life doesn't increase from it so why would I interact with it? This doesn't apply to any of my friends though, I'm still happy to see their tweets and see how they're doing. They are the only reason I'm not off of Twitter yet too.

It's just weird. I used to be SO into instagram and social media in general, but when I think about it now I'm like what's the point. It kinda feels meaningless now. And I think that shows a lot of character development! I'm becoming a better version of myself and deciding to increase my own quality of living instead of choosing to share everything on the internet. It's one of the best things I've done for myself.

One last thing I'd like to mention is that I also have more time to read now! I haven't really done so yet, but I've started reading my all time favourite book again and it is just so nice. I've just gained a lot of time I used to spend scrolling through timelines, that I can now use to pick up reading and other hobbies I enjoy!

I'm sorry if this has become a long post! If you read it all the way through; just know that I appreciate you very much and I hope that if you're struggling with your relationship with social media you'll consider taking some time off, because I assure you that it'll be very refreshing for your soul. Even deleting your apps for a week will bring loads of change in your mental health!

The best thing you can do is to put your phone away and look around you and do things in real life! Take walks, do a puzzle you never got round to doing, start drawing things, read that one book you always wanted to start but didn't. There's lots of things to do that can make your life much more valuable to yourself. Social media is so toxic and I'm so thankful to myself to have stepped away from it.

I chose to live my life more authentically and that's such a wonderful decision I made. Life is precious and I'm here to live it! 🖤

[cyraen-ae]

I’m slightly late for this week’s Hero Appreciation Day, but here are a few fun facts about the Varsen siblings in my Mechquest and Dragonfable game! Maybe at some point I’ll talk more about their AdventureQuest and AQW versions, but for now these are my favorites.

About their parents :

The Varsen father is called Aryn Varsen. He was a chronomancer who one day disappeared after an experiment gone wrong. His children don’t know whether he survived or not, but this left them apprehensive of chronomancy, despite being taught about it

The Varsen mother is called Leera Varsen, although it was a new name she adopted to hide. She was a refugee from a more controlling kingdom (the Thenastrin Imperium in Mechquest, the Magesterium in Dragonfable. Dunno about the other two games). Pre-Reset, she was a skilled engineer with intimate knowledge on melding magic and technology. Post-Reset, she kept those skills, becoming an artificer of sorts.

Leera suffered from intense paranoia and fear that people would betray her and sell her position to the kingdom she fled from. After her husband disappeared, she became certain that his disappearance was caused by those she was fleeing and went into hiding with her two child.

Thallen and Aleena spent most of their childhood without any social interactions as a result, only leaving the home once they were old enough to do so.

Aleena, being as hot headed as she is, left the home much earlier.

Mechquest facts :

Aleena loves listening to music when piloting her mecha. She modded her mecha’s cockpit to play music full volume to get her pumped up.

She’s also quite the good dancer as a result, as well as actually playing the electric guitar.

(this is in reference to me playing music whenever playing Mechquest due to its lack of prominent soundtrack)

As briefly mentioned in a previous post’s tags, Aleena is the Hero of Soluna in my playthrough.

Considering this, it means that the game starts in Thallen’s second year at GEARS.

While Aleena is the one in the frontlines doing all of the playable missions, Thallen isn’t just hanging back in Soluna.

During the war, he usually acted as mission control for Aleena. He’d stay in their ship orbiting the planet, or in a nearby area on the planet, and assist Aleena.

In most quests where the player gets message from the questgiver, in my version of it Thallen would be with them and chime in.

He also fixes Aleena’s mechs after the fights.

Additionally, Thallen picked up a bit of first aid from Nurse Helia so that he can patch up his sister whenever she narrowly misses an ejection because she got too confident.

He’s done the “if you die out there I’m coming into the afterlife just to chew you out for this!” type of trope to his sister over the comms quite a few time whenever she did something especially reckless.

aThallen and Aleena take house pride seriously and have a friendly rivalry going on. 

I could 100% see Thallen as a questgiver in GEARS hanging out and giving the player quests to help him get components for his latest mech design, which would then be offered as a shop after the quest.

Perhaps I’ll commission art following that Dragonfable trend a while back of drawing OCs as NPCs for that at some point in the future

Dragonfable facts :

Thallen’s scarf bandana thing is soulwoven. It also has a small bird sigil embroidered on it that, while blue by default, will sometimes change colors to fit his mood (a canon feature of soulwoven cloth that I feel should be used more often because it sounds fun!) 

It also used to belong to his mother, the embroidered bird being the symbol of the enchanter’s guild where she once worked before leaving. 

For a while after getting Dragonlord customization, Thallen wore the crop-top renegade armor because I was like why not. Therefore I headcanon him as completely the sort of person who would casually wear a crop top.

Post-Reset, Thallen still has very vague memories of the Mechquest timeline, although they feel barely tangible and dreamlike. He will often get pangs of melancholy and solitude whenever something unconsciously reminds him of his after-work hours spent with Tek, who he hasn’t found post-Reset.

Tek actually appeared in Thallen’s version of the Aspenvale Academy dream sequence, in which she faced many disappearance glitches similar to Tomix. Thallen has been trying to understand and remember who this pink-haired woman was as a result, leaving him deeply perturbed.

Thallen is very involved in the Vind, being a member of the rebellion to an official level.

Meanwhile Aleena, while she assists the Vind during some missions, remains too withdrawn and hard to contact to be considered as a member of the Vind.

The only time Aleena has been actively helping in any scenario rather than appearing and disappearing in hit-and-run tactics is during the Proclamation War.

In there, Aleena has been bodyguarding the Golden Hand. Not out of care for them, but rather so she can keep an eye on them as she does not especially trust them.

And also so she can push them to be faster to limit the damage caused by the rifts.

She also frequently voices her distrust of the Rose during it.

She still limits interactions and keeps her helmet up during the whole war, so as to not break her Brass Angel vigilante persona.

I’ve been in a very Mechquest mood as of late, replaying through the whole game on Aleena, so as a result my mind was more on Mechquest facts. This could change by next week, we’ll see. 

I’d have put more facts on their chronomancy, but I’ve already talked a bit about it in another post today

I’m thinking of writing up a timeline of events for the Varsen siblings going through the events of Dragonfable (and maybe one for MQ) and how it affected them personally, it’ll probably be made up for next week’s Hero Appreciation Day

[graceslavenderhaze]

bright { connor stevens}

synopsis: connor knows your soul and you know his. now that knowledge is put to the test. 

authors note

part two of haunted!

in this story a evil eye bracelet is use, which is a talisman used for protection against misfortune and injury. i have used evil talismans since childhood and their apart of my culture which is why i’m adding them into my writing. 

also i tried my best to reconstruct the timeline so if there’s some mistakes and gaps, i tried lol. 

also the major plot twists i threw into this? whip lash worthy

Your walk home was accompanied by your tears and broken heart. While your mind was on auto pilot buzzing through every moment you spent with Connor, trying to pin point the exact moment everything had gone wrong. Was he being honest with you? Did he suddenly start caring all of a sudden what your over bearing parents thought about your relationship with him? Or was he just never into you that much to beginning with. You weren’t immune to hearing the whispers in the hallway and how cruel your classmates could be, while Connor always reassured you. Your mind always had that deep corner that was out for blood and to hurt you.

Your cheeks were raw and your eyes were stinging by the time you had returned back home. All the lights were out downstairs and upstairs. You snuck back into your bedroom with ease. You had no willpower once you entered through your windowpane to do anything. You shrugged off the jacket and your shoes, managed to changed into the first pair of clean pajamas you saw and the second your head hit the pillow, you were out. 

You woke up to your alarm and felt like you had been left on the side of the road after being ran over. You sat up to check your phone and saw that there had been a few notifications from your socials and texts from Luke, they were about Connor. Adding insult to injury. You stared at the texts debating if you should even them, and deciding against them. You couldn’t deal with this decaffeinated. 

“So he just broke up with you? Out of nowhere?” Carrie said as you had finished ranting to your friends. You nodded and her face furrowed. “That’s out of character for him, he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky.” She said nonchalantly making a turn onto out of the coffee shop parking lot. You took a sip of your coffee. 

“It’s so out of character for him.” Kayla commented from the backseat, you turned slightly to look at her. “Obviously we don’t know him as well as you do but c’mon that’s so weird.” It was weird, you didn’t put everything together in the moment but something was definitely going on. 

“You’re right.” You murmured. You didn’t want to give yourself excuses but something was definitely going on. As you rolled into school you noticed Luke and your eyebrows furrowed, Connor wasn’t with him. They always walked to school together. Unless he ditched. 

“Hey!” Luke announced as he walked up to Carries car when you’d gotten out. “Hi.” You said shortly walking past with your friends. “You seen Connor yet?” You and your friends stopped short. “Why would she keep tabs on her ex?” Carrie snarked. Confusion washed over Luke and he went silent as a sympathetic look was cast your way. You smiled before you and your friends continued your way to class. 

After school, you stayed late to hang with Kayla as she choreographed some more things for dance while you worked on your homework. Eventually you were both kicked out by the boys wrestling team and when leaving the coach asked if you knew where Connor was, you shook your head and went your way with Kayla. “He didn’t show at all today?” You voiced with concern to Kayla, she met your face with mutual concern. “You should call him. Breakup aside this is some criminal minds type shit.” You nodded. You pulled your phone out and your finger hung over his contact before you finally pressed down. 

The ringing went on and on which just built up your anxiety. Then his voicemail. “Hey it’s Connor, leave a message if you even do that anymore it’s the twenty first century.” You swallowed and looked at Kayla. “Hey, i know i’m probably the last person you want to hear from but where ever you are can you just call me and let me know you’re not kidnapped or something morbid like that. ok bye.” 

“Effective.” She said as you opened the passenger door. “Well sorry i don’t have a go to my ex who i love is missing might be missing and i’m concerned voicemail at the ready.” You said buckling your seatbelt. “Weakling.” She said pulling out of the school parking lot. 

“Where’s y/n? “ Hanna asked as they went through Connor’s backpack that they had found in the woods the day prior. Luke hadn’t spoken anything of Connor and yours breakup with the rest of the group and they’d been confused on the absence of their friend. “Connor and her broke up the night before he went missing.” Luke said to the group. The room went silent other than the humming of the art room lights. 

“Is that why she’s been avoiding us?” Gabby asked, she’d seen you several times and you’d dodged. It wasn’t intentional it was just that they were Connors friends first. “Probably.” Jai said continuing to look through the backpack when a letter addressed to you fell out. He looked at the group, “Nope not reading it.” 

“None of us are!” Hanna said as Luke inched towards it. Gabby nodded, “I have class with her next period. I’ll give it to her.” She said shooting the boys looks. The boys both put their heads down like dogs in the dog house. 

Eventually, the bell had rung so the group went separate ways and when Gabby saw you in class she sat next to you before you had the chance to move seats she dropped the letter on your desk. “We know why you’re avoiding us. But he left this for you, Luke found his backpack in the woods yesterday and he’s convinced something happened.” She said keeping her voice down not wanting to draw any attention to the two of you. You nodded taking everything in. 

You slipped the letter into your backpack. “I want to help but things with my parents aren’t the best right now and besides my shifts at the book store i’m on lock down.” You explained to her, there was nothing more you wanted than to help Connor. She nodded. “I totally understand. I’ll text you updates.” She said with a reassuring smile. You gave her a smile and then turned your attention to the class even though the only thing you could think about was the letter in your backpack. 

It had been hours before you were able to read the letter that Connor had left you. It sat there taunting you. You ripped it open and didn’t know what to feel. It just had a post it note that said you’re enough, then ticket stubs from dates you’d been on and a wax bracelet with an evil eye charm attached. You put the bracelet on almost instantly. Nothing made sense.

 What you had was a piece of the puzzle. 

On Monday, Connor was here. Sleep deprived, worried eyed and self heart broken. Tuesday came like sunrise and he was gone as if he never existed. The only thing left was his backpack and laptop that was password encrypted. 

On Tuesday, his backpack had been found in the woods he last was in before he disappeared. With trinket lights, a letter for you, and a note that was chalked up to be clues. 

On Wednesday, his friends went through his backpack at school. Hanna and Luke snuck into his house and stole his laptop in hopes of figuring out more about what happened to him. Later, that day Jai finds out the group didn’t make it out of the woods in time and was in deed cursed by the shadow man. Jai was almost taken in his basement, Hanna and Seth were almost taken in their living room, and Gabby while on a jog.

Not being able to get any contact of Luke who was at wrestling practice, Gabby stole her mom’s car to hopefully save her friend. The group took refugee at Connor’s house for the night. The shadow man came back and they managed to fight him off this time. Hanna cracked the password to Connor’s laptops and they figured out that he was cursed too. He was researching into the curse and was going to the lighthouse to preform a ritual to end it all. 

Pieces came together, like the corners of a puzzle. 

When Thursday rolled around you found yourself studying in the cafeteria when Gabby and Jai came to sit with you. “Hey.” You said looking up from your textbook. “Hi.” Gabby said with a nervous look on her face. “What’s going on?” You asked looking at the both of them with confusion and concern at the same time. 

“Your mom’s maiden name is Murphy, right?” Jai asked as he pulled out an old yearbook. You nodded, “Yeah but what does this have to do with Connor?” Jai placed the open yearbook in front of you. “This is June Murphy, she was the first victim of the shadow man curse we think, she was the light house keepers daughter, well one of them.” Gabby explained to you. 

“One of them? Whose the other?” You asked flipping to the next page, and staring up at you was your own mother. Who looked somewhat like. “Oh shit.” You muttered. “We didn’t know for sure.” Jai said sympathetically.

“It’s definitely her, probably think it was me if her name wasn’t there.” You said looking up and pulling your phone out to take a picture of the year book pages. “She chastises me for lying when she has a whole hidden identity.” You said slumped in shock. 

“We’re sorry.” Gabby said placing her hand on your wrist in an act of comfort. “Maybe she knows something that can help with Connor?” Jai implied, you shrugged. “I’ll talk to her later and let you guys know if it’s anything helpful. I have to go meet Carrie about the glow dance.” 

“Also Jai, If you’re planning on asking Kayla. Her dress is purple. Just a heads up.” You said as you grabbed your textbook and walked away from your two friends with questions swirling around your head. How was this suddenly a real life scenario in your life?

“Mom!” You announced when you walked in your house. She was in her bedroom. You hadn’t talked to her since the night you last saw Connor. “We need to talk.” You said, She smiled. She thinks she going to win, she has no idea what’s coming. 

“I’m so glad you came to your senses about that boy.” She said. You laughed pulling your phone out. “No we need to talk about your double life.” Her face went pale and fear overstruck it. You had never seen your mother scared in your entire life, not even when you broke your arm. 

“Tell me your secrets and i’ll tell mine.” You said with your arms crossed. She sat there for a minute before she exhaled. “First you need to understand everything i did was to protect you. Second, i need to know what you know. ” You nodded, you’d never seen your mother like this before so whatever she was about to say must be gospel truth. 

“I know June Murphy was the lighthouse keepers daughter, well one of them, she tried to save the lighthouse and failed, then she died. Not so long after the light house was shut down and then her dad died not so long after her.” You said and your mom nodded. 

“June fought to save the light house and was only a few signatures short. She’s a lot you, you’d like her.  One night she decided she’d turn the lighthouse on by herself. Only problem was we’d thrown the key off the cliff into the water earlier that day. June swore she saw it hanging by a low branch. So we went to get it. It was pouring so when she came just close, she slipped and she fell.” Tears collected in your mothers eyes and you regretted everything you said about her earlier. 

“My father was devastated and took a book of shadows. He turned himself into a monster to try and get my sister back. In the end, i lost them both.” She said as she stood up and went into her closet pulling out out a medium sized wooden chest. 

“I changed my name, moved to an out of state college and when i married your father. We moved back here, perfect place for a family. No one remembered me because there was nothing worth remembering anymore.” She placed it down and opened it. There was pictures, a baby blanket and other keepsakes. 

“At the time i couldn’t understand how my father turned himself into a monster to save a daughter he lost, when he still had one who was alive. But after i had you. I understood. I could never let that happen.” You sat there. Your parents had been hard on you but if this was the reason? You had no reason to complain. 

“Does dad know?” You asked. She nodded, “You can’t go through something like that and keep it to yourself you need to let burdens off your shoulders and lean on the ones you love.” You nodded. She sat next to you on the bed “I’m sorry about what i said about your boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my, um, that’s a whole mess right now.” You said to her. “He broke up with me the night we fought, i snuck out of my window. Then went missing the next day and his friends who are also my friends, but that societal you can’t have mutual friend with a significant other bullshit was in my head, found out he was in the light house cottage before he disappeared so they went there too. He wasn’t there but his backpack was in the woods, which are cursed so now they’re cursed and they’re trying to save him and themselves before the shadow man takes them like they took Connor.” You rambled on. Your mother look at you as you had three heads. “Are you cursed?” She asked placing a hand on your shoulder.  

“No but like i’m sitting on the sides watching everyone i love get taken so i wish i was at this point.” you said as your mother took you into a hug and you started to break down. “I don’t know what to do, i need someone to tell me what to do.” You cried into her shoulder as she soothed you like she used to when you were a baby. 

“It’s going to be alright, we have something that the shadow man doesn’t.” she said getting up and grabbing something from your dads side of the closet. A small book, before she grabbed your hand. “Where are we going?” You asked. “A family reunion.” She said as you both walked out of the front door and into the car. She looked over at your wrist, “Where’d you get that?” It was the evil eye bracelet.

“Connor left it for me before he disappeared.” You said subconsciously rubbing the bracelet to soothe yourself. “Smart move.” She said as she pulled out of the drive way. “Why?” You asked you knew the evil eye was protective. “A protective talisman, gifted by a lover? He had every intention of protection you from the shadow man whether he was taken or not.” She said looking over. “Breaking up with you, the letter, and the talisman? He loves you. Call it motherly intuition.” 

“Yeah well when we save him, i have a lot to talk to him about.” You said as you looked out the window. “You could talk to me about it.” You looked back. “I realize that in these past years protecting may have drawn a wall between us and that's not what i want and that's not what i ever wanted.” You knew it would take some time but you wanted it too. “I don’t know if that would work. I usually complain about you and dad.” You joked as you looked back out the window. 

“A magic shop? What are we witches?” You said to your mother. She turned to you. “Mom.” She ignored your advances and once you made it to the door you were asked about a password. 

“Lemme guess abracadabra?” The door slide open. This wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened this week. “See you’re a natural.” Your mom winked. Your eyes widen. A man in an extravagant purple suit answers the door. He’s taken back. That makes two of us. 

“Okay, to recap. You’re my dad’s brother but he decided to never bring you up for some unknown reason and my family has ties to magic and shadow powers?” Your mom and Sardo nodded. “Is there any other major family secrets you wanna tell me?” 

“Teenagers.” Sardo muttered. “Wait teenagers as in plural.” Your mother said turning her attention to Sardo. “Yes i run a magic shop, teenagers come in.” He said nonchalantly. “Have any other teenagers come in today asking about the shadow man?” You asked. 

“Well there was this group of rugrats earlier today.” The midnight society. “Earlier this week this tall, lanky, one dressed in all black came in for a spell book.” He explained. “Connor?” You asked. Sardo got up and went through his purchase slips. “Yes, Connor Stevens.” 

“What’d he get?” Your mom asked while you got up and took the slip from your new found long lost uncles hand. “Skeleton key and a love potion.” You said looking back up at her. “He didn’t use a love potion on me.” You said to your mom. 

“Oh this is the boyfriend? Wow family drama must be fun on facebook!” Sardo said sitting down. “He had the book of shadows though. How’d he get it?” You asked as you put the slip back. “He broke in and stole it on monday night.” He exclaimed.

“It was in a life or death situation, i think that’s excusable.” You reasoned. Sardo shook his head, “That book brings nothing but trouble and even more darkness into the world every time you open it. It’s a book of shadows. Its dark magic. Not white magic.” He announced with a dissatisfied look on his face

“And you all want me to learn this? I’m not being sold on it.” You said sitting back in your seat. “There’s more than dark magic. There light magic, green magic, crystal magic and so on. Every practitioner chooses between the dark path and the light path.” Sardo explained as he stood up to grab a grimoire. 

“What path will help me save my friends? Is there a path for that, cause i want that path.” You said as your mom rubbed your shoulder. “You don’t choose a path, the path chooses you.” Sardo explained pushing the grimoire close.

“What if dark magic chooses me?” You voiced, silence washed over the room. “Why do you want to save your friends?” You were taken aback, why? “Wouldn’t it be easier to let them all just be claimed? Throw in the towel, make new friends.” 

“No!” You bellowed. “That’s not right, there’s always a way and when there’s love there’s light.” You explained. Your mom smiled at your answer. “If that’s how you feel. Dark magic won’t choose you.” 

By the time you’d left the magic shop it was late and Gabby wasn’t answering her phone. You’d given an update about what had happen. 

It was starting to make sense, not perfect sense, not just yet.

On Friday the glow dance had rolled around, what also rolled around was a stomach virus that had cause Carrie and Kayla to miss school and not be able to attend the dance. Gabby hadn’t been in class so you assumed she was also out with the stomach virus. Hanna met up with you during lunch letting you know what happened the night before. She tells you that Luke’s returning the book of shadows after school and everything should be back to normal now. Oh how wrong she was. 

You weren’t able to see Connor after school, you had a shift and then were going to get ready for the dance. Gabby texted you that he was feeling up to going so you’d see him there. An hour into the dance and you ended up wandering the halls. You had felt this pit in your stomach and needed air. 

But once you went into the hallway the pit just grew larger and larger. “Hey stranger.” Your eye evil bracelet burned and blinded. You looked up from your wrist and turned around. “Connor?” You asked. There was a screaming voice in your head. It felt wrong. “Who else?” He asked coming closer. You saw a light shine through a classroom and walked backwards towards it. Once the light enveloped you and Connor still stayed back. His sleeves were rolled up and his wrists were bare. The real Connor wears a rainbow bracelet you made him. 

“The shadow man perhaps?” You suggested, the smirk on “Connors” face dropped. You inched closer to the switch that controlled the hallway lights and switched it on, when the lights were on “Connor” was gone. 

You started to go towards the gym seeing your friends on stage with Sardo and “Connor” in the crowd knowing a rescue mission was already in place. All you could do was stand there and wait. Within ten minutes, the shadow man had out smarted your friends and Jai sacrificed himself to save the group. 

On Saturday you were completely left out of the loop. You heard nothing. Gabby wasn’t answering. Hanna wasn’t answering. You feared the worse and could do nothing to save your friends. That what Sardo said earlier was going to come true. You still had that pit in your stomach. You were reading your grimoires but it felt useless, why study if right here and right now. The people you care about most are disappearing through your finger tips. 

On Saturday night your parents brought you upstairs and put your to bed, but you stayed restless with worry. You stared at the ceiling and walls of your bedroom before at some point your mind gave up and lulled you to a nightmare filled sleep. Losing Gabby, Losing Hanna, Losing Jai, Losing Luke. Losing Connor. Like a broken tape it looped over and over and over. 

It all fell apart right in front of you.

On Sunday morning Kayla and Carrie had recovered from their stomach flu. Your mom invited them over in an effort to distract and cheer you up. You told them everything. Life’s too short to keep secrets from your best friends. Especially when you don’t know how long you have left with them. 

Suddenly it was Friday again and you were at your shift at the book store again. You pulled your phone out to text Carrie and Kayla. They both responded with the same texts they did on the Friday of the glow dance. “What the actual fuck.” You muttered. The door rung several times signaling a mass group of people walked in. 

The midnight society had just seen that Sardo was alive and remembered that you work Friday shifts. Which caused them to practically sprint to see you, Connor leading. When your friends all walked through the door you stopped in your tracks. “Seen a ghost?” Gabby said with a smile. “i hate you all i hate your children and your childrens children.” You said rushing to hug her. 

“Hear that Connor?” Luke said causing his friend to hit him upset the head. “That’s a two way road.” You said hugging Hanna. Then Luke, Jai and Seth. Then there was Connor. 

“I’m gonna go take a nap, really tired see you guys later.” Gabby said excusing herself. “Same honestly, later.” Hanna said leaving with Seth. “I’m just going to go.” Luke said dragging Jai with him. You laughed at your friends. 

“I’m scared that if i walk any closer you’ll disappear like last time.” You said looking at him. He walked towards you. Grabbed your hand and placing it on his heart. “This real enough for you?” He said leaning his forehead against yours. You smiled. Noticing the blinded evil eye he smiled, “So that worked.”

 His head moved to rest on top of yours and you wrapped your arms around his torso. “Legally, you’re obligated to stay like this for at least twenty minutes.” You laughed moving your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m okay with that.”

“I didn’t mean breaking up with you, i just didn’t know what happened when he took you and couldn’t let that happened to you.” He said slightly holding you closer. “I understand. Just never do it again.” You said to him, he laugh and nodded. 

“So the glow dance?” You pulled away because your shift was starting to end. “You’re up for that?” You said as you started putting stray books in the resort bins. “I’m always up for a good time.” He said sitting on the front counter. You nodded, “Pick me up at 7.” 

“What about your parents?” He questioned. “A lot happened when you were gone.” You said starting to rant to your boyfriend. 

it rebuilt it self.

[luciehercndale]

Belong // Wessa

Hi! I’ve written this fic a while ago, but I don’t know why I haven’t posted yet. I had the idea when I read about Will’s parents passing in Chain of Gold, and this is a sort of a * missing moment * type of fic about that. It’s set during the TLH timeline. Hope you enjoy, although I’m really insecure about this because this fic is also very personal since I’ve tried to write the trauma from experience. Thanks to whoever is going to read it. 💜

Couple/Characters: Wessa, Will Herondale and Tessa Gray Rating: T Tw: Mentions of death Genre: Hurt/Comfort

You’re never prepared when your parents die. As much as you imagine that day in random moments of your life, and tell yourself that you shouldn’t let it drag into the depressing imagination until it happens, it isn’t as close as the real thing. No, you’re never prepared when reality hits you right in the chest, in the place you kept the people you loved the most.

Tessa lost her parents when she was little, but she didn’t feel the weight of their loss for the majority of her life. She had a poor recollection of her memories with her parents. Sometimes it felt like they never existed in the first place, that she was, after all, an orphan. She started realizing that she missed her father and her mother on the day she got married. How nice it would have been if her mother had been there to help her with the dress or the hair, and how symbolic to have her father accompany her down the aisle. Yet, those were just dreams, fragments of her imagination, thoughts that she had had sometimes, but not often. Truth be told, she didn’t know how it felt to lose one’s parents, but she would soon witness it.

That morning, Tessa and Will received a letter. They had just returned from a walk around Idris, and they were tired. Her feet hurt and she wanted to spend a couple of hours sitting on the sofa of the drawing room to read, or just rest. She always said that words had the power to change us, and how much of that statement was true.

She and Will had just entered their bedroom at Herondale Manor when one of the servants brought them the fateful message. She didn’t inquire as who had sent it and went to remove her hat as her husband read its contents. When she turned to ask him something, she grew concerned. He was staring at the piece of paper with a blank expression, devoid of brightness, of color. If expressions could talk with actual words, his face spelt dead.

“What is it?” she asked, tense, hurrying to him. She noticed his hands trembled, and he was pale, ghostly. Her own heart started pounding in her chest because of worry.

He didn’t reply instantly, which didn’t diminish her distress, but when he did, his voice was low and broken. No, it was shattered, like the sound of glass when it breaks and you stomp on it.

“They’re dead. My parents are dead, Tessa.”

When he glanced at her, her own heart collapsed for him. She could already see the tears pooling in his eyes, his fight against himself not to break down. The fight to be strong. But he lost the battle, and soon, he couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore.

Her husband started to weep in silence against her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him cry. He had cried several times in the past, like when James and Lucie were born. She had moved to tears as well and they had sobbed together as they held their children. But that was another type of break down. It reminded Tessa of when they were looking for something to save Jem from his fate and they went to Magnus, but he didn’t know what to do either, and Will felt hopeless and had moved to tears.

Now death was again the cause of his despair.

She helped him on the small velvet chair in front of their bed and sat down. She didn’t know what to say, she knew that anything she would tell him would be useless. She adjusted his head on her shoulder and passed her hands though his dark hair. She wanted to soothe him, to make him feel safe and loved and comforted. He hugged her and buried his head on her chest, trying to be as soundless as possible, as Tessa cradled his body as if he was a child. He let himself be cherished by her, and she could feel the strong grip of his hands on her back as she told him it was okay as she cried with him. Everything would be okay.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she was able to move him to the drawing room. She had sent a message to Jem, hoping he could make it so Will could recuperate. In the meantime, her husband decided that he was fine sitting on the carpet in front of the fire, his gaze fixed on the vacant, dark hearth which was empty as much as his stare.

She told him she needed to go back to their room for a moment and then she would get back to him. He simply nodded, managed a forced smile before she left, and didn’t utter a word. She was about to go downstairs when Lucie and James came to look for her. They weren’t home when they returned, because they went to their cousin’s house. They would have to know about this as well. Tessa sighed. “Lucie, James. Did you have a good time?”

��Yes, I had a lot of fun! Our cousin Christopher likes to blow things up,” Lucie said cheerfully.

“I told him he should be careful,” James added.

“I’m glad,” she replied. At least their children were happy.

They went closer to her, their expression suddenly turning serious. “Mama, has something happened? Because we went to say hi to papa and he was sitting in front of the fire with his face in his hands… and he was… crying, I think.”

“He was definitely crying, James,” Lucie commented. “Why was he crying, mama? Did you argue?”

Tessa smiled at her children’s questions. They were smart and they knew that Will never cried – at least not in front of them. “No, Lucie. We didn’t argue. But something happened, and I think you should know.”

“What is it, mama?”

“We’ve just been told that your grandpa Edmund and your grandma Linette have passed away.”

“That’s why aunt Cecily was also crying,” James admitted. “It makes me sad. I loved them.”

“Me too,” Lucie chimed in. “I’m sad that we won’t see them anymore.”

“Yes, it’s depressing,” Tessa agreed, seeing James and Lucie on the point of tears. “But we shouldn’t forget that the people we love will always be with us, in our memories. It’s true we won’t be able to see them again, but they will live in our recollection of them. Don’t you agree?” she wondered, trying to say the best thing she could think of.

“It’s true, mama,” Lucie nodded. “But now… what should we do? Should we say something to papa?”

“If you want, do it. I’m sure he’ll feel better,” Tessa agreed. Sometimes these small gestures of her children made her feel proud and want to move to tears at the same time.

“But I don’t know what to say,” James argued, lost in his thoughts. “What do you say in these occasions?”

“You tell him you love him and you give him a hug, brother,” Lucie replied fiercely.

“Good idea,” their mother nodded. “Go.”

Right after they left the bedroom, Tessa broke down in tears again.

***

Lucie and James did what they planned to do. She caught the moment right on time, and it filled her heart with joy to know how close they all were, the four of them. How Lucie and James adored their father and how they covered him with affection, always smiling at his silly jokes, and how he protected them although they were already 12 and 13 and able to look out for themselves. What Tessa saw before her eyes in that moment were two children not yet teenagers who sat down on the carpet next to their father and circled him with their innocent arms and told them they loved him. They were sad but they were there for him.

The light in their bedroom was off when she got back, and at first Tessa thought Will was already asleep. Jem had left an hour before and now it was just them. She and Jem tried to comfort him earlier, but the wound was too fresh and she was aware that he would need a couple of days in order to be relieved a bit from the pain, although she knew he would never be completely healed. He treasured his parents, and he probably wished they would have had a longer life.

Tessa took off her clothes and wore her nightgown, then slipped under the covers next to him. He lied on his side, opposite her, facing the window which overlooked Brocelind forest. She saw his back. He looked tense. Then he turned towards her. She couldn't see his eyes in the darkness, but she knew that they were deep pools of blue darkened by his current mood, and red rimmed because of the tears.

She was wrong if she thought he had finally surrendered himself to sleep after he hadn’t eaten anything at dinner, and after the whole day spent in front of the unlit fireplace with unfocused eyes. He leaned closer to her and she opened her arms so that she could embrace him as he put his head on her chest. He took one of her hands in his, and held it tight like a life line.

“Tess,” he murmured.

“Yes, Will?”

“Do you believe is there a paradise or a hell out there?”

“I honestly never thought about that,” she replied softly. If she had to be honest, she had never thought about that because she was young and she was… immortal. “Why?”

“There may be a heaven, maybe,” he told her, ignoring her question. “We are angels after all.”

“You’re right, we are,” she conceded as she passed her hand through his hair, even if she could say she was also partially drawn to hell because of her heritage, but she didn’t say it.

“I could stay with them for a long time in spite of everything,” he murmured to her some moments later. “They could meet you and Lucie and James. I would have probably died if we weren’t able to see each other anymore. At least they knew… at least they knew how much I loved them. How much I love you and the kids. They were ecstatic to meet you. They were ecstatic to meet James and Lucie. At least they saw the man I’ve become, and that I turned out well despite I was forced to leave them when I was still I child. I was Lucie’s age when I left them. I still… think about how painful all of that was for me. One time my father told me that he was proud of me. Proud that I made it. That I was happy and content and had people around me who loved me deeply.”

“And he was right,” Tessa agreed and stroked his cheek, noticing it was wet with fresh tears. “They were proud and they had every reason to be. You are the proof that everyone can turn their life if they want to, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that if we want, we can reach that light and embrace it.”

“My wife is always right,” he agreed, squeezing the side of her body with his hand.

“That’s why I married you,” she admitted, glancing at him. She could only see his forehead, but she knew he was probably trying to look at her as well.

“Because I always recognize your good sense?”

“No, silly,” she chastised him. “Even though you have to admit I’m often right and that I’m the only one who can calm you down when you’re dramatic, but this wasn’t the point. Anyway, I married you because you have a pure soul, Will. You are caring, you are sweet, you are protective. You are wise and loyal. You are transparent. And this, my dear, they also knew.”

He stayed silent for what looked like an eternity, the only sounds in the room were their breathing and the rise and fall of their chests. Will still gripped her hand and played with her fingers carelessly, as if it was an anxious habit and he couldn’t stop it. As long as he was distracted, he could play with her hand as long as he wanted.

It was going to be okay.

[incarnateirony]

First of all I love your meta. Second I still can't believe Dabb really said "pathways". My question is different though. I know it's old and we should focus more on the new as time goes on but I still don't understand what gives it away that what Zachariah showed to Sam and Dean is how future would be and not him toying with them. Is it 'cause he's not powerful enough for that?

Well, for 1, Zachariah outright says it, but of course there’s always room for unreliable narrarator.

For 2, there’s other elements that actually betray this like Zach actually not touching anything IN the alternate future he doesn’t belong in, but point 3 and its very long answer will actually cover some of those, as the creatives themselves explained that. (Episode written by Ben Edlund)

For 3, Ben Edlund himself says it. Now, as I know recently I’m being followed around by a bunch of goblins that want to challenge everything I say I will disclaimer, I just spent like 15 minutes searching for the quote, but seeing as it’s ten years old now, I’m struggling doing so -- I did find some very close adjacent ones below that fulfill the same purpose. I do know I reblogged it at one point in the past, because this has been enough of a point of contention it put me on the “out”s with some meta authors, as it was a discussion that some people just “can’t deal” with it being an alternate timeline/reality and choose to see it another way (ie Zach’s just fucking with them), and then along comes someone with the Edlund quote that literally says, no, this is not just some made up world by Zachariah, it’s an actual alternate timeline.

So while I can’t find that EXACT quote, in particular, I did find this one:

Kripke: –Future Dean was lying and manipulating him and we showed it to Bob—and this is, by the way, a perfect uh, model, or—

Edlund: We had crawled up our own asses, we had lit a campfire, and we were having s’mores.

Kripke: –a perfect picture of why Bob Singer is so invaluable to Supernatural. Which is, like, we show him the draft and he reads it and goes, like, “What the hell is this?!” And we’re like, “It’s cyclical! Time is cyclical!” And he’s just like, “What? What’s wrong with you? I don’t even understand what the hell any of this is! Just shut up!”

Edlund: And remember, we would come into his office and draw pictures of it—

Kripke: Yeah, yeah, we literally—

Edlund: “No, no, Bob, look! It’s a circle with a line through it and these two dashes!”

Kripke: We were drawing him a diagram of the nature of time travel in Bob’s office and he looks—he just gives us this wonderful dry look like “You’ll be drawing that for the audience?”

Edlund: Yeah, I know, right. (laughs)

Kripke: That look is called the Quiet Stop It. And then we like, “All right”, and we just knew. And it was very late, we were, like, already in prep.

Edlund: Yeah.

Kripke: We pulled that whole notion. And that was like a big through-line. That was probably like six or seven pages of the script, which when you’re that late in the game is a lot.

Edlund: Yes. But though–

Kripke: –to pull and rethink. And by the way, so mu—glad we did it.

Edlund: Much better, yeah. And it really just moved to an alternate universe model, much better. And also, there were like two pages of dialogue of Dean just going—

Kripke: Explaining it.

Edlund: “Let me again try and” –not explaining, reiterating with different metaphors to try and create a picture.

Kripke: “Time is a bus. I got off the bus. Then I got back on.”

Edlund: (laughs)

Kripke: So, yeah, that’s the process.

This actually comes from the DVD commentary, and they go on starting that the episode was originally called “Clone Wars” and had no intention of future/alternate anything, before they basically went bananas with the idea and started coming unglued about time travel.

They literally went so far as to try to draft several minutes of script explaining time travel and, instead of making it a single linear circle of time while Robert Singer looked at them like lunatics for spewing cosmic theories (boy howdy mood), they went with an alternate universe model, which still in some essence does involve time travel, but it’s basically more quantum theory of branches making infinite universes/possibilities, so at X point you chose different and thus Z event happened instead down the line, but in another universe at X point you chose a different thing so Y happened instead.

*jazz hands*

There IS also this article/interview quote with Edlund:

Another big picture aspect that comes into question with Edlund’s episode The End is whether angels can really travel into the future, or whether Zachariah was just messing with Dean’s head, Gabriel-style. “Yes, they can, but that’s a four-hour answer,” Edlund declares. “I don’t have the math to support it, either. But in my mind—and that’s all we’re dealing with right now—I think that the future is not predetermined, it’s non-constant, and the angels can travel to any number of possible futures. Predetermining something is a state of mind; it is not the law of the universe, so if you believe anything about the future, it will most likely become a self-fulfilling prophecy. That is true in human nature. If I think I’m going to lose the game, I’ll lose the game. If I think I’m going to win, there’s a good chance that I’ll win.

“Free will is like a viral experiment that God left on the desk and then he left, and the angels are like, ‘What the hell is this?’ It’s messing stuff up. Satan got too close to it and he’s got a free will issue. It’s a weird thing, so when Zach took Dean into the future, I believe they just went into one possible future. The future will roughly happen this way if Dean self-prophesizes this future, because it’s hinged on his choice. Zach had no impact when he went into that future, which is a pretty important detail about the underlying physics of it—he can witness a potential future, but he can’t change it or live there. It’s not a home for the people from the past; it’s a projection of what might happen. You can take a human like Dean, put him there, have him experience all this crap, get a punch in the face and get rolled down a hill, and then get brought back to the present, but that future will never be because Dean has been changed by the trip. We’re just talking about possible futures.”

(“Inside the Mind of Ben Edlund”, Supernatural Magazine #19, Sept 2010, pp 56-57.)

Edlund, who wrote the episode, pretty resoundingly calls it a future that Zachariah had no impact on. Kripke has no particular statement to *directly verify* the same but spends the entire commentary talking about how they were gridding out time travel like lunatics getting side eyed by everyone in the office and pretty resoundingly calls it “the future” not “the other world” or “the fake world” or whatever.

Also side but like 4. This fulfills 15.09's similar intent narratively with Chuck, just different delivery as the current was building that future instead of future events undecided. Sam changed it then and there.

Honestly I wish I had the two minute scene of Dean deliriously trying to explain time and all kinds of shit drawing a crazy circle with lines and dashes because that would just be my avatar/banner/whatever forevermore what a MOOD.

Time travel actually requires greater power in SPN than just making up illusions, far as I’ve gathered. Almost anyone can Create A Space. Castiel eventually lost his time travel ability but held a same mood: when he sent Dean back in time, Cas couldn’t change anything. He could be witness to it, but he just drilled in that “Destiny Can’t Be Changed.” The end moral is that we can in fact change our current to change our future, which is basically the point of S5 (and... most of Supernatural) as a whole, but the angels retain the same mechanics pretty well-throughout on this.

That is to say though, that according to this model, there IS still a future out there written somewhere that Dean had to bury Cas in a Malak Box, got overwhelmed by depression, literally gave up, turned into a monster and killed everyone he loved with Sam until he too died. But Not This Sam, Not This Dean.

[fandomdancer]

Print list #1 Fluff 32 & 50 with Talia & Sherloque please?

Here is #32, Make a Wish. #50 is coming later!

I haven’t written for Sherloque in well over a year so...sorry if this is awful...

__________________________________________

(c. December 2018, Season 5)

               Tally curled up against the edge of the seating couch in the center of Jitters. She rather loved the cozy addition to the coffee shop, and was grateful for any time she could spend on it. Jitters was quiet right now, the lunch hour just winding down and the baristas scurrying about cleaning up and restocking. The sun poured through the windows, warming the shop, and Tally’s toes tapped unconsciously to the music pumping through her headphones. She took a sip of her pumpkin spice latte and picked up her tablet, ready to start another round of research on Cicada.

               “Bonjour, petit alouette.”

               The distinctive French voice got around her music (as it always did), and Tally’s heart beat a little faster as she looked up to see Sherloque standing before her. As usual, the tall detective wore his brown pants and button up black shirt with the green/navy waistcoat fastened securely around his chest. His grey blazer hung open on his shoulders, and his black fedora hid his brown curls. Tally gave him a little smile. “Bonjour, Sherloque. Que fais-tu?”

               “Ah. I am working.” He gestured to the tablet in his hand.

               Tally raised her tablet. “So am I. Cicada?”

               “Non. A side project. No charge.” A little twinkle glimmered in his eye. “We are all surprised, yes, by the arrival of Miss Nora?”

               Tally nodded, though her stomach still curled at the memory of the sheer hatred in Nora’s voice when she had addressed Tally last. “It’s way cool to see Barry and Iris’s kid, but we don’t really have a good track record with visitors from the future.” If only I could get her to tell me what she thinks I did…maybe I can figure out where this ‘Overdose’ came from…

               Sherloque didn’t say anything and she looked up to see him tilting his head curiously at her, silently urging her to continue. Instead, she found herself staring at him just a little more. There had been a time when a Wells tilting his head would have triggered memories of Ren, harsh enough that she would have to look away. Now…all she could think of was how attractive it made Sherloque look, that detective brain latching on to a curiosity she had unknowingly laid out in front of him.

               “We don’t get a lot of visitors from the future,” she elaborated, “but the ones we have gotten generally don’t bring good news. Thawne, of course. We had a magician last year, Abra Kadabra…full of nothing but arrogance and dislike. He was from the 64th century. And Nora…”

               “Has brought Cicada.” Sherloque sat down on the couch beside her, gently setting down his teacup and saucer on the coffee table in front of them. “And something else too…something personal, dare I ask?”

               Tally shifted position, turning towards him. “She was nice enough at Joe’s place but when we were alone…she called me a name I’ve never heard before, and told me that…that in the future I was responsible for…killing a whole lot of people.” Her eyes slid away as she spoke, anxiety and guilt for something she hadn’t even done still weighing on her shoulders. She absently set down her latte.

               Alarm and concern warred on Sherloque’s face as he leaned towards her. “You believe her?”

               “She’s from the future.”

               “Ah, but is the future set? Or is the timeline…malleable?”

               They had spent much of the previous year working on answering that very question and honestly, Tally still didn’t know what they had found out. Iris had been stabbed but it hadn’t been Iris, and H.R. had pointed a gun at Savitar from the roof, but it hadn’t been H.R.. The scene had played out the way Barry had seen, but the wrong people had died. Was the future set?

               She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

               “This is not something to worry about. You are not a killer. You do not think about killing these people. The idea, it makes you sick. You cannot even smell your coffee.” He gestured to her latte on the coffee table before focusing his eyes on hers again. “What Nora knows, what Nora sees, it is in her time, not this one. You are not a killer, petit alouette.”

               Tally couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, nor could she stop the blush crawling into her cheeks. She knew he would see it, and she dearly hoped he would not comment on it. To try and hide her reddening cheeks, she murmured: “Thanks, Sherloque,” and quickly reached for her drink. In her haste, her hand knocked over the salt shaker on the table, spilling salt. “Oh, crap!”

               “What? It is a spill, we get the napkin here…” Sherloque reached for the napkin dispenser but Tally was already grabbing a pinch of the salt and throwing it over her left shoulder. Sherloque stared at her, clearly surprised and confused, before continuing. “What is this, you throw?” He imitated her tossing the salt over her shoulder.

               “It’s bad luck,” Tally said. “It’s just…” She felt suddenly embarrassed, blushing for a whole other reason now. “You spill salt, it’s bad luck. You cancel it out by throwing some over your left shoulder.”

               “Ah, it is bad luck on this Earth! Well. Let me tell you a secret. On my Earth, it is time to make a wish.”

               Tally blinked. “What?”

               “Make a wish,” Sherloque smiled. He took a pinch of the salt and tossed it out into the room, briefly shutting his eyes before looking back to her. “Your turn.”

               “Like when you lose an eyelash,” Tally said. “You make a wish and blow it away.”

               Sherloque gestured. Tally leaned forward and picked up a pinch of salt, then shut her eyes, her mind spinning through a dozen thoughts before landing on one simple desire. She tossed the salt into the room as well.

               “Now we clean up the salt, but we do not throw it away. It goes outside to help carry our wishes.” Sherloque swept the salt into a pile, moved it into his hand, and then shook some of it into hers. “I will go first so no one takes our seat. That would be bad luck, yes?”

               “This is such a ritual!” Tally laughed.

               “Spilling salt is no simple matter.”

               They took turns dumping the salt out of her hands, earning curious looks from the baristas as they left and reentered the store, and by the time they sat back down Tally had forgotten all about Nora. She leaned against the back of the couch, propping her head up in her hand, and smiled at the detective sipping his tea beside her. When he had finished lingering over the flavor, he settled in the seat and looked at her, his blue eyes vibrant in his tan face and his thin lips stretched in an inviting smile. Her heart rate picked up again as she thought about her wish, and she swallowed.

               “What was your wish, petit alouette?” he asked.

               Was he reading her mind? Was that how he was such a good detective? Tally blinked. “What?”

               “Your wish.”

               “You don’t tell people your wish! That stops it from coming true!”

               He raised an eyebrow. “And how can a wish come true with only one person believing in it?”

               He had a point, but Tally still wasn’t sure how to tell him without setting the room on fire from humiliation. “What was yours, then? You wished first.”

               “You spilled the salt. It is your wish that is important.”

               “Oh, stop trying to trick me.” Tally tried to sound annoyed but the grin on his face was infectious and she could not resist the urge to giggle at the silliness of the whole moment. Had he set all of this up to distract her from Nora, Overdose, and Cicada? Or was this just a quirky setup of life in all its randomosity? “You first.”

               “Very well. I wished…” he trailed off dramatically before winking, “…to see you smile.”

               Oh. Well. Tally ducked her head. “That wasn’t your wish. You’re just being a flirt.”

               “You don’t know if it was my wish or not.”

               “Isn’t it bad luck to lie about a wish?”

               “You hurt me!” He lay a hand on his heart, looking mock-stung, and Tally laughed again.

               “You’re just trying to manipulate me into telling you my wish.”

               “And it is working. You are going to tell me.”

               Tally raised an eyebrow. “Where are you getting that idea?”

               Sherloque looked her over, his eyes dancing and that damning little smile on his lips. Then, to her surprise, he leaned over to her, closing the distance between them considerably. His eyes flicked to her lips as she parted them unconsciously and she swallowed quickly, suddenly aware that she had no desire to move even though everything inside of her thought t would be a very good idea to do so.

               “You want to,” he said, his voice a low, inviting purr, sending shivers through her body and pleasant sensations through her abdomen. No matter what Earth he was from or what name he had, Harrison Wells had a voice that weakened her defenses. Ren had had it too, and she could remember him using it on her to great effect.

               But the face in front of her was…for once…not Ren’s. It belonged to Sherloque Wells. She could look at his face…and not see her dead fiancé.

               “You are curious,” he continued, captivating her. “We are from two different worlds and this is a superstition from mine. You want to because you wonder if it is real even though it is not from your Earth. Come on, petit alouette. Tell me what it is you wished.”

               “For a chance,” Tally breathed. No hesitation, his blue eyes held hers and his voice coaxed the words out of her throat.

               “A chance for what?” he asked, his voice no less enticing but now just as soft.

               “Just a chance.” He could not seduce out of her what was not there. Give me a chance, she had thought, and even as she had blown the salt away she realized she hadn’t quite known what she was asking for. It had been a simple desire, a chance. An option. Give me the option.

               But this close to him, with the warmth of the room and the thick smell of the coffee and the thumping beat of music in the background, she had a feeling she knew exactly what she was asking for. The question was, was he good enough to figure it out?

               The silence between them worked as a magnet, drawing them closer and closer...

               A violent vibration tore through the air as Tally’s cell phone skittered across the coffee table. The two of them jumped, looking down at it, and Tally grabbed it on reflex, hitting the ‘accept’ button. “Y-Yeah? What?”

               “Ah…you okay, gurl?”

               Cisco. Tally exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Yeah, yeah. You started me. I was…reading.”

               A slight pause, then: “Uh-huh. Well. Is Sherlock with you?”

               “Loque!” Sherloque said loudly. Tally did a double take. How did he hear that? Her phone wasn’t on speaker!

               “Ask me if I care!” Cisco shouted back over the phone.

               “Cisco,” Tally complained.

               “Sorry. So. He’s there with you and we need the two of you back at S.T.A.R. Labs. Can you get here fast please?’

               Tally nodded before remembering she wasn’t on video chat. “Yes. We’ll be right there.”

Translations:

Bonjour: hello, good day

Petit alouette: little lark

Que fais-tu?: What are you doing?

Non: No