#but i think part of not having a safety net from a very young age is that i live in a justified state of economic terror

[finitevariety]

i should stop trying to do every job that exists and start writing more instead

[i-am-beckyu]

One Small Gift

HELLO! I TOLD YOU I'D POST ONE MORE FIC THIS YEAR! And I am very proud of myself for making it a Christmas centered fic! I can't believe it's actually been a year since I last posted a Christmas fic. Like where did the time go and how did this thing spawn?

I'm gonna ramble a bit more at the bottom of this fic about me and the community but lets not hold you up any longer so I give you: The Christmas Fic- One Small Gift :3

cw: fear, death mention (but no actual death), lying, panic and anxiety, fluff- Like, ALOT of Fluff, hidden identity and of course happy endings. You know, the usual angst/fluffy Beckyu fic :3 word count: 8351

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Cold

Why did the walls always have to be so damn cold? 

Tommy’s mind couldn’t help but linger on the thought, as the Borrower shivered making his way through the maze that was the inside the house walls.

Human Beans invented heaters AGES ago for the insides of their houses to keep warm, so how was it that the inside of the walls were still always so flippen freezing? 

Would it kill them to think of the little guy freezing their butt off just once?

Well no, maybe not. But it certainly would Tommy. 

As much as the young blonde would love to cuss at the home owner for not giving him a proper source of heat, the Borrowers code quite literally FORBID them from ever telling a Human of their existence. Not to forget the fact that it would mean doom for a borrower if they ever did. All the horror stories of Borrowers being squished or experimented on from the elders to go off being proof enough.

Death by Human Beans?

HA! Absolutely NOT!

That’s exactly the reason why he is trying to get supplies for the Winter to warm himself up, before it gets even colder! 

Tommy grumbled to himself as he ducked and weaved past forgotten cobwebs about how it was such a pain to be in this position in the first place. He’d had a perfectly fine home in a tree nook in the forest that had always remained nice and cosy warm during the colder months. 

Even if that meant he’d been living on his own, Tommy had been happy living as an Outie borrower for as long as he could remember. Well at least he had, before some tall, pretentious brunette freak decided his home would be the perfect tree to cut down and drag all the way back to his stupid freezing cold house. 

But it gets better, because even though the main part of his home was actually still intact under the now stump, the Bean still took the top half of the tree- 

With Tommy still inside it! 

They flippen took HIS house and wrapped it in a net; effectively trapping the poor borrower and then strapped it to the top of their car and drove hours and hours to a Human Town with him hanging on for dear life.

And that’s not even the worst part because not only did the flippen Bean steal part of his house, but then they had the audacity to cover the tree's dying corpse in fancy decorations and shining lights. 

Like seriously WTF?!

A Bean kidnaps him from the only place he’s ever really known and covers his once thriving residence all merrily in ornaments, while he’s forced to flee his only real known place of safety with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the few supplies he did have stored in the upper levels of his now dying home. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but it was the only choice he really had. 

Stay in the tree and get caught, or try and survive in the Beans' walls until Winter passes.

He chose the latter of course- (It’s not like staying would have helped him anyways) 

Getting down from the top of the tree had been, well- less than a fun time for the Borrower. The big purple bruises across his back were a throbbing reminder from his impact on the floor at times, but he managed. 

Instead, Tommy had started to navigate his temporary ‘soon to be home’ in the walls getting an idea of the layout and where the best places were to borrow from. He just had to make it through the Winter and then he could go home. Trying to get back to his nook now would be impossible with all the snow cover on the ground, but he’d get back to the forest even if it killed him.

Which might be the case soon if he doesn’t get some new clothes and heat source quick.

That was the main issue with being kidnapped after all. You only have what’s on your back and well, Tommy hadn’t exactly been expecting to get yoinked away in his scrappy T-Shirt and shorts. He had proudly made them himself with the few scraps of fabric he’d managed to find from some Beans that had been passing through years ago on a camping trip, but the fabric was light, and not made to be worn in such cold conditions. 

He’d only meant to go up and check what the heck the loud thumping outside his tree was like any normal person. He was expecting a deer or maybe a bear using it as a scratching post, not a Bean cutting their house down and taking him along with it. You don’t exactly have time to think about putting on proper clothing when your everything is at stake.

So that was step one: Find some material and make some clothes- a jacket the top priority.

Tommy is very thankful that he had his borrowing bag on him, that he still has his self made needle and some old thread so he at least didn’t have to start from nothing. Finding the material hadn’t been too difficult to locate either. When he first scouted the place, he discovered pretty quickly that the Bean had a habit of leaving stuff all over the place, so borrowing supplies hadn’t been difficult to do without being noticed. It’s how he found the most perfect fluffy woollen red sock to make a coat and blanket from. He would already have it now though if the Bean hadn’t come back before he could swipe it.

The Borrower had tried to come back for it later, but the Bean had decided it was time to clean their room up because he had some guests coming for this thing called ‘Chris-mass’- whatever that was- and the sock was gone.

So instead he grabbed what he could and made his way back to the walls with just enough fabric to make a new pair of pants and some crackers for dinner.

But it still didn’t fix the whole freezing situation.

What Tommy really needed was a candle. 

To a Human Bean it may seem to be an insignificant source of light, but to a Borrower it could literally be the difference between a warm nights sleep and becoming a Borrower popsicle! But that was easier said then done because all the usual spots Beans would normally keep candles, were replaced with flippen electric ones!!!! 

What’s wrong with fire on candles!? Why would you want a fake candle that just flickers and produces less light than a real one?

That or something for a bed. At least that way he’d have a comfortable place to sleep and trap his own body heat.

He really wishes he could have taken those socks…

As if this Bean wasn’t bad enough, not only did they lack the materials Tommy so desperately needed, but they wouldn’t shut up talking into the black box (a fone he thinks it’s called from memory) to other Beans with how excited they were about them coming to stay for the Hole-lid-days and spend time huddled together by the fire or something dumb. 

“Come on Dad! Let me host. If you let me host, I’ve got the coolest surprise planned for you and Techno I swear!! Plus don’t you want to come and see me?” 

Lucky prick. Got a Dad and a brother…

Now don’t get him wrong, Tommy is a big man, if not the biggest man to ever exist and he doesn’t need anyone. But he also couldn’t help but long for someone to share the cold season with like the Beans did. It had been so long since he’d seen another Borrower like himself and though he’d never admit it, living alone did get a little bit lonely sometimes. It would be nice if just once he could share a night cuddled up close to a loved one, and just bask in each other’s company. 

But Tommy didn’t have time to be sentimental about things he’d likely never have.

He needed to find a way to stay warm and get warm now.

But the universe decidedly hated Tommy because, tonight was apparently December 24th-

Chrisymiss Eve.

Tommy had been here about a week or so and in his short stay still wasn’t 100% sure what this whole Khrislermas was, but it appeared to be a BIG deal to the Beans. 

Apparently, all the Beans get together whether it’s family or friends to spend time together and exchange gifts. It’s about being thankful for what you have or whatever and something about showing how much you love someone by giving and receiving presents. 

Tommy thought it was actually quite a nice thing the Beans did and wished that Borrowers had something similar themselves in their culture. However, there was one thing he still didn’t quite understand about this whole holiday thing.

Who the heck is Santa Claus?

He’d been taking some more crackers the Bean had left out from the kitchen while this ‘tv show’ played on the Bean's big Black box that was talking about this Santa guy. Apparently, he was some elusive, big fat man, dressed all in red with a big white bushy beard, who climbed down the Beans chimneys, and left gifts for all the little boys and girls of the world. He had this list too that knew if you’d been naughty or nice and would leave the good children gifts and the bad children coal in their stockings. 

Children could write letters to Santa or he’d visit and children could sit on his knee and ask him for a gift they would like and he would deliver the toys to children all over the world on Christmas eve when everyone was sleeping, only to have disappeared by daybreak.

Tommy hadn’t thought much of this Santa at first- not when it was just another Bean to avoid. That was until he learned two very important details.

1- Santa delivered presents to ALL children of the world. 

And 2- Santa wasn’t meant to be seen by Humans either.

So not only did this Santa guy literally just give out free gifts, but Tommy literally had a way to get exactly what he needed for the winter!

All he needed to do was talk to Santa and he’d be saved! 

Now you might be thinking: But Tommy, you said it yourself. Santa isn’t meant to be seen by anyone so what makes you the exception? 

Simple.

Borrowers aren’t meant to be seen by Beans and neither is Santa.

Which means just like Borrowers, Santa must not want to be caught (which if he thinks too hard about it makes sense since he literally breaks into houses but anyways) and unlike with Beans, there is no rule that says Borrowers can’t see Santa!

All he has to do is wait for Santa to visit Crystamas eve, and then he can ask for his gift! Santa probably even knows what he wants, being made of magic and all! He just never knew Santa existed so he’s never asked for his gift before! 

If he were a more greedy Borrower, he could ask for so much more to make up for all the years he never got a gift, but that would probably put him on Santa’s naughty list. And while coal would be good, Tommy doesn’t exactly want to burn the house down with him inside it. So this was his best shot to get exactly what he needed. 

The hard bit though, was waiting for Santa to arrive. That meant not only having to be out in the living room where the fireplace was, but also meant he had to wait for the Bean to fall asleep. Which really meant that it would be AGES before Santa would come because the Bean of the house was terrible at sleeping at night. 

The man literally had no sleep schedule and would stay up till terrible times in the morning before drifting off. Normally that wasn’t much of an issue for the Borrower having observed this early on, but right now it was very much a hindrance because it could be hours before they went to bed. 

It also seemed that they wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, because the amount of energy and excitement the Bean had displayed the whole day about his family coming home was overwhelming. He’d come home at one stage with this big bag of stuff talking on the black box about how his super cool surprise was coming along and how it would be awesome since they let him host Chrimpmas- whatever that meant. 

Tommy had hoped with the excitement of the holiday they’d have been ready to pass out by now, but he couldn’t be more wrong with the amount of commotion he could hear from down the hall- and that’s through the walls. 

At least he could observe everything going on from his place on the bookshelf. It was right next to a small crack in the wall he could just squeeze through, but it gave him a good view of the living room but also enough cover from prying eyes unless he made his presence known. However, being out of the walls had one difference the blonde hadn’t accounted for.

Heat.

The fire had been lit and was keeping the whole room nice and toasty warm compared to the harsh bite the walls somehow managed to keep. The whole atmosphere made him almost want to curl up and fall asleep. It had been so long since he’d been able to just enjoy the warmth in the air and not be shivering to keep alive.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if he had a nap before Santa arrived.

Just a quick one….

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Tommy was awoken to a rather loud THUNK as the Borrower shot up from where he had fallen asleep atop the shelf. 

It took the blonde a moment to realise where he was and not panic about being out in the open before his eyes settled upon a figure. 

Sprawled out across the floor in a heap of red and white was the jolly big man himself.

Santa Claus.

The one and only.

“Santa!” Tommy yelled excitedly as he hurriedly manoeuvred to stand. “Santa you came!”

Santa’s head snapped up from the floor alarmed, as they pushed themselves to stand and take a defensive stance.

“Who said that?!” they shouted, looking around wildly panicked. “Show yourself!”

Tommy giggled to himself. Santa was so silly. 

“Up here Santa! I’ve been waiting for you.” The blonde waved as the man's head turned and their eyes fell onto his small form. 

Tommy grinned at the magical man taking him all in. 

Just like the figure on the big black box, Santa wore a big red coat with white fluff lining the ends of his sleeves. A big black belt was strapped around their waist, fastened with a fancy golden buckle and sturdy black boots on their feet to keep out the snow. Their head was adorned with an oversized big red hat, with a giant white fluffy pom pom on the end, and they had a long white beard that travelled down their chest. And last but not least was a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the tip of their rosy red nose which accentuated their big brown eyes that were staring at him in wonder. 

Huh. 

He could have sworn that Santa's eyes were blue.

“I can’t believe you came! I wasn’t sure if you would since I never sent a letter but you must have known anyway cause here you are!” The little borrower stated excitedly as Santa removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. 

“I’m so glad you’re here! I really need my Crimpmess present.” 

“I’m sorry you’re what?” the man’s eyes furrowed in confusion as they processed what the younger had said.

“My present!.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “You know, the whole reason why you’re here.”

Santa didn’t exactly seem like he knew what was going on. Right now all he was doing was staring and Tommy was getting a bit annoyed. 

Was that not why Santa was here? To deliver his present like the show had said?

Tommy huffed annoyed he had to explain all this. Wasn’t this like his job? He should know!

“I’m sorry,” Santa began slowly as if trying to process. “I didn’t actually know you were here.”

“Why else would you have come then?” Tommy crossed his arms unimpressed. “I’m the only kid here, but don’t tell anyone else I said that. I’m a big man! The biggest ever!”

This finally seemed to warrant a different reaction from the older, as they looked the boy up and down unimpressed by this so-called ‘fact’.

“A big man huh? You look more like a child. What are you- 12?”

Tommy feigned a gasp, grasping his chest offendedly. “I’ll have you know I’m 14 and the biggest man alive! I’m only a child for the purpose of getting my gift tonight and tonight only!”

Santa couldn’t stifle a laugh as he watched as the small child stomped his foot in a mini tantrum at being called 12. It was endearing in a way but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed with a tiny child standing on their bookshelf.

“Well whatever you say I guess, but I still I didn’t know you were here.”

The blonde shrugged before moving closer to the shelfs edge. “Ah well it doesn’t matter. You’re here now so I’d like my gift please! You have it right?” 

“If I didn’t know you were here, then how would I have your present with me?” Santa asked.

Well he did make a good point. It’s not like he sent Santa a letter and he hadn't met him to tell him like other human bean children had until now. 

“Oh right. Guess I better come sit on your knee and tell you what I’d like than.” Tommy stated matter of factly, as the small Borrower moved to the edge of the shelf and stabbed his hook into the wood, quickly jumping off to descend on his rope to the ground.

“Wait, DON’T DO THAT!” 

The blonde yelped in surprise, moving instinctually to protect his ears at the sheer volume the man shouted, in turn losing his grip on his rope, quickly plummeting down to the ground below. Santa lunged forward with an outstretched hand as the boy slipped down the rope at a rapid speed, catching him before any real harm could be done. He semi slammed into the wall, clutching his hand to his chest as they did so before quickly unfurling their hand.

“Oh my prime! Kid- kid are you alright?” Santa said frantically checking over the boy he now held in his palm. 

Tommy shook his head, dizzy from the sudden force that had rammed into him only moments ago. He tried to steady himself grabbing, onto the nearest thing his hand could find as he begun to regain his bearings.

Oh he was going to ache tomorrow…

“As soon as the world stops spinning, yeah.”

Santa sighed in relief as Tommy allowed himself to regain focus. It was then that he really took note of where he was. 

Normally, if a Borrower was sitting in the hand of someone almost 100x his size, he would be kicking and screeching to get away. But this was Santa Claus’s hand and Tommy felt only wonder. 

It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The thing he had grabbed onto was apparently Santa’s thumb and it was almost as big as his head! Even if it was a bit weird sitting on the leathery texture of their skin, the warmth radiating beneath him was heavenly, and the way the man’s fingers curled slightly over him protectively felt nothing but comforting. 

Santa hadn’t moved since he caught Tommy mid air, and was staring at Tommy as if they would disappear. They seemed stuck on what to do next, but also amazed he was sitting there at all.

“You alright there big man?” Tommy raised a brow confused at why the man would act this way. Santa was literally made of magic and had flying reindeer for goodness sake! A borrower existing surely was no cause for such amazement? There were surely way more interesting magical things to see than a lowly Borrower like him. 

(But then again, he was a pretty poggers Borrower if he did so say that himself, so staring could be justified for that reason)

This finally snapped the old man out of their wondrous stupor, as they squinted their eyes open and shut with a quick shake of their head. 

“Uh yep. All good um. Let's- go sit down. Yeah- yeah, let's do that.” Santa said, confirming more to themself than Tommy.

Santa brought the boy protectively to their chest to brace them before they moved away from the book shelf, smoothly walking over to the couch where the old man sat down ever so slowly to not jostle their small passenger. The second they were bending down to sit though, Tommy was launching himself off Santa’s palm for his knee as the bearded man frantically tried to stop them in their escapade.

“Kid, would you stop doing that? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Pfft please. This is nothing compared to how I got down from that tree over there.” The boy grinned as they pointed to the far corner of the living room.

The man's head followed to where the boy was pointing, the Christmas tree displayed proudly in a large pot tied with a red bow, small lights flickering on and off in changing patterns.

“Tree? You mean the Christmas tree?”

“Yep!” Tommy stood proudly popping the p. “I had to get down somehow and my hook would have gotten stuck in amongst the branches if I had tried to abseil down. So I did what any logical Borrower would do and jumped.”

“You jumped?!” Santa’s eyes widened, as he looked back and forth between the boy and the top of the brightly decorated tree. He grimaced, imagining the boy throwing themselves from the upper branches like they had done only moments before onto his knee. 

What was with this kid and being so reckless?!

“You jumped from the top of the Christmas tree!? Why were you even there in the first place?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing their arms in front of their chest. 

“It’s all that stupid Beans fault.”He huffed annoyed. “He just came waltzing into MY forest, decided to be very rude and put their grubby hands all over MY house wrapping it up in some ugly net, only to cut it down with me still in it!”

Tommy didn’t notice the way Santa’s brows furrowed and their expression changed to one of horror as he continued to ramble on.

“They literally kidnapped me, Santa! They’re so lucky that the main part of my house is under the tree’s trunk and not the higher branches because I swear I would have murdered that Bean in their sleep by now if they had!”

Tommy was very pleased to have finally gotten to vent some of his frustrations to someone other than his internal self, but now he was finished he had a good chance to register the other’s reaction.

Santa looked horrified.

His eyes seemed glossed over as if he was holding back tears, and one hand slapped over their mouth, the other gripping their wrist tightly in an attempt to ground themselves. 

Uh shit. He hadn’t meant for that to happen…

“Uh but don’t worry Santa!” Tommy was quick to add. “ I wouldn’t actually do that. That would be a bad thing to do and put me on the Naughty list! I promise I won’t actually murder anyone!” 

Phew, that was a close one. He couldn’t jeopardise his only hope with a silly joke!

Santas’ face had yet to change and Tommy subconsciously started to fidget feeling nervous to how the older was reacting. Maybe he had blown it and now he was on the naughty list. Another glance at the old man's face seemed to confirm those fears.

He’d blown it.

His one shot at survival and he practically threw it all away with a vent. No wonder he ended up all alone.

“Please don’t put me on the Naughty list Santa. I need my gift.” Tommy spoke timidly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I- no. No you’re not on the Naughty list.” Santa dragged his hands over his eyes a few times strained. “I'm just trying to process. It’s more of the whole kidnapping thing. ” 

If Tommy had been paying better attention, he may have noticed the few stray brown curls poking out from under the man's hat, but he was more thrown by their following question as the magical man continued on.

“If you were in the tree, why didn’t you say anything?”

Tommy drew a deep breath, before sighing as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Because Santa, Beans aren’t supposed to know that Borrowers like me even exist.”

“Beans?”

“Human Beans Santa. You know, big people like you, but not magical and stuff.” The Borrower explained. “There’s no way I could tell the dumb Bean he was cutting my house down! Do you know what Beans do to Borrowers like me?” 

“Um no?” Santa fiddled with his hands as he looked away, eyes downcast to avoid the youngers gaze as they continued.

“They get rid of us. To them we’re just pests or things to be used.”

Tommy hugged himself tightly, anxiety pooling in his chest for the first time that night. He wished it wasn’t true, but Beans just held far too much power for their own good. Their greed often outweighing their need to do good without reward. 

“I’d rather risk jumping out of a tree than ever fall into the clutches of a Bean.” 

“But how do you know that?” Santa suddenly said, muscles tensing as they clenched their hand into fists. 

Tommy flinched at the sight of hands so close. Closed so tightly that he couldn’t help let slip the thought of himself in the mercy of their grasp, begging to be freed like all the stories had said of the Borrowers trapped in agonising pain. The man noticed his discomfort, and immediately loosened their fists, moving their hands away and under their thighs so as to not startle the boy any further than they already had.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Santa said with a sense of guilt.  “But I just- How do you know that though? Who says that they would have hurt you if you had just made your presence known? You wouldn’t have had to jump or gotten hurt.”

Santa turned away sheepishly, whispering sadly. “They could have helped you.” 

Tommy swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he observed the sad look Santa had as they stared at the Christmas tree. It was obvious they were blaming themself for what had happened. He was far too kind for that.

“Santa, it’s not your fault.” the boy sighed, “Every borrower is taught this from birth. It’s a known fact that Beans are all cruel, power hungry beings. They always want more and just take, take, take.”  

“But what if this ‘Bean’ didn’t know.” Santa shot back, causing the Borrower to falter. “What if you had said something? They would have stopped and left you and your house alone? How do you know they wouldn’t have helped you?”

“Because Santa,” Tommy turned and faced the man head on. “That’s just how Beans are. To them, we're just another thing to take and control.” 

Tommy wanted to believe Santa, he really did, but it was hard to just ignore years of being brought up to beware Human Beans and their cruelty. He’d seen it even from when Beans had once come into the forest with their fire sticks, and took down a friendly deer. It was unnecessarily cruel and was all the convincing Tommy needed to deem all Humans bad.

Santa nodded sadly in some kind of understanding, but Tommy couldn’t understand why Santa looked so hurt. It wasn’t his fault the Bean took him and his home, but he seemed so convinced that hiding and not asking for help had been the wrong thing to do. 

He thought they were the same, that if Beans caught him on Christmas Eve, then something bad would happen to him like it would for Borrowers. That’s why they had to stay a secret. Why no one could know they were here. 

But Santa wasn’t a Borrower who lived in hiding unknown. The Beans knew about the jolly, present giving man that only appeared in December. 

He could live among the Beans and it would be fine if he asked for help. Everyone liked Santa. He didn’t take things just to survive. He gave toys and gifts so he would have no worries about the repercussions of taking a paperclip just to get around. He wouldn’t have to worry about Beans hurting him if something went wrong. He would just use his magic and be fine.

It was Santa’s choice to stay hidden as an extra precaution to protect that same magic. 

“But you’re different from the Beans Santa.” The boy perked up instantly remembering why he was doing this in the first place. “You only come out of hiding at Christmas and everyone knows who you are! You only hide to keep your magic safe from Beans so they can’t have that too!” 

The man gave a small smile as the boy continued to ramble, pacing back and forth on his thigh as he did so.

“But I don’t understand why you give children presents when they already have so much!” Tommy stopped, his lips pursed together as his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Unlike me.” He confessed quietly, lifting his head to meet Santa’s sympathetic gaze. 

Santa was staring at the young boy again, leaned forward in concern listening as the blonde  continued to share his story.

“It's why I need my gift Santa.” Tommy wringed his hands together with a nervous glance to see Santa’s reaction who nodded in approval, gesturing for him to continue. 

Tommy steadied himself.

Now or never.

“I was brought here with basically nothing. Forced to move into the Beans walls or risk being seen. I’ve barely been able to get anything for basic survival and the walls are freezing!” 

Tommy shivered remembering the way the air had nipped at his nose as he struggled to keep warm. Clutching himself tightly in a poor attempt to retain any kind of body heat. The one time he went up stairs without his coat and of course he gets kidnapped.

He needed this. 

More than anything.

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Wilbur had just wanted to have the perfect Christmas.

It was his first time hosting and had decided he HAD to go all out.

More decorations than his little house needed both inside and out, homemade hot chocolate from scratch and had promised his Father and brother a very special Christmas surprise if they let him host.

Their first ever living Christmas tree and a surprise visit from the Big man himself- Santa Claus.

He’d done a bunch or research into the best spots to go where he could get a tree and quickly had been recommended from several sites about the fir trees in Logstedshire, and quickly made the trip out to find a tree.

What the websites failed to mention, was that said fir trees might be inhabited and the home of tiny people that are terrified of Human Beings. 

So if you asked: No, Wilbur was not having a good night realising he had kidnapped a child that was deathly afraid of him and only okay right now because he thought he was the real Santa Claus. 

In a way, it was a good thing the kid hadn’t realised yet, because if Wilbur had never dressed up in this silly costume, he probably would have never known about the child freezing to death in his walls.

The child was so cold despite their lively spirit when he’d caught them after they launched themself off the top of the shelf. The fact it wasn’t the first time they’d thrown themself from such a height made Wilbur sick knowing had they not been lucky, could very well not have made the long fall. But the fact the kid had been struggling, terrified and afraid in his walls when he could have helped had the guilt eating him away as the boy rambled on.

They were so sure of themselves with the cruelty of humanity too that they had him so on edge. If the blonde knew he was really the guy that had cut his tree down, he very much doubted they would be this enthusiastic. He was talking about how much he needed his gift- the gift he still had no clue what it was, but just hearing the little blondes tale, and seeing how thin his clothes were had Wilbur making a very long list of things he needed to get to help the kid out. 

A kid which he still doesn’t know the name of.

The boy's eyes had brightened, as he bounded up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly, talking about what this gift would mean for him. He was actually quite endearing despite their seemingly dire situation.

“If I tell you my gift, then you can give it to me now and I’ll actually have a chance to survive the Winter!” He explained excitedly, grining.

Wilbur pushed down his anxiousness for the boys well-being. They had already suffered enough from his mistakes. He didn’t want them to suffer any longer than they had by them accidentally discovering the truth.

“What’s your name kid?” Wilbur mentally slapped himself  that he hadn’t asked sooner.

The tiny boy chuckled to himself as they crossed their arms. “Oh come on Santa, you know my name don’t you? You have a list with every child's name on it.”

Ah- right. Santa did have that Naughty and Nice list didn’t he? Curse Santa for having to live up to magical standards.

“Uh- I came here in such a rush, I um- ah must have left my list back at the North Pole.”

“So?” The boy argued, raising a brow. “You’re magic. Don’t you just know?”

Did he say endearing earlier? How about difficult for making him use his brain at 9pm at night. (Shut up. Don’t judge him for it)

“Well you know there’s like 2 Billion kids in this world and I see them all in one night. You don’t expect me to remember every name without my list do you?”

The kid hadn’t seemed to account for this, and thought it over before shrugging in agreement. 

Oh thank goodness for kids being young and naive. 

“I guess that’s fair. But you’ve got a s*** memory in that case Big Man. Getting old.” 

Actually, make that an annoying gremlin.

“I think if someone wants their present, they should be more careful about insulting their elders.” Wilbur teased with a chuckle. The boy rolled his eyes with a groan. 

Okay, an endearing gremlin then.

“Fiiiiiiiiine.” they drawled letting their arms drop to their sides before extending their hand up in greeting. “The name’s Tommy.”

Wilbur carefully lifted his arm up and slowly extended his pinky finger out for the boy to take in an oversized handshake. 

“Nice to meet you Tommy.” His finger dwarfed the boy entirely, his pinky finger only slightly shorter than the boy's total height, but nevertheless, Tommy took the tip and shook it lightly.

“Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me what it is you’d like for Christmas?”

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile at the little boy excitedly sharing in exact detail what he wanted. What the Borrower wanted wasn’t even that difficult to get, and he knew exactly where to find it. Tommy continued to ramble on for a bit longer about what he had been doing since coming here and Wilbur made mental notes of the few places where Tommy talked about entrances in out of the walls for future reference.

He was going to have to look out for Tommy from now on and if he wanted a shred of hope in getting him to trust him as Wilbur, he was going to need a plan.

“So could I have my gift now? I would really love it now and you still have a lot of other houses to visit tonight right?” Tommy asked innocently.

Wilbur really didn’t want to stop talking to Tommy. Tommy trusted the magical Santa Claus; not regular Human Being Wilbur Soot. He knew that if he let Tommy go now, it was unlikely he would see the kid again, but if he didn’t leave as Santa now, they would most likely get suspicious, realising he was a fake and panic. 

Wilbur sighed as he brushed a stray hair of fake beard from under his cheek.

“I- yeah I guess so. Best get you to bed then too.” 

“Awwww but I’m not sleepy yet!” The blonde pouted. “This is normally when I’m awake so it would be a crime to make me sleep now.”

“Well good little girls and boys go to bed when they’re told if they want to stay on the nice list.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” Tommy stuck his tongue out in defiance and Wilbur had to bite his to stop himself from bursting out loud laughing. 

This kid was going to be the death of him he swears.

Wilbur extended his hand to the Borrower, keeping it steady as he waited for Tommy to climb on. He’s still a little huffy at first realising there was no room for argument, but climbs on anyway, sitting down in the middle of Wilbur’s palm bracing themself before he moves.

The brunette curls his fingers over the boy slightly, bringing his hand to his chest protectively. He tries not to linger too long at how it felt to hold an entire person in one hand for the second time tonight before moving to stand. 

Steadily, Wilbur makes his way over to the book shelf and cautiously raises his hand up for Tommy to climb off of. He sets his hand down on the wooden surface and Tommy takes no time in hoping off to stand, waiting expectantly for his promised present.  

“Okay I need you to close your eyes just for a second.” Wilbur asks the boy who quickly covers his eyes with his hands, only to peak out from behind his fingers seconds later.

“I mean it Tommy. Keep them closed.”

“Ugggghhhhh Fineee!” the boy said huffing, but relented nevertheless. 

Wilbur quickly whirled around and crouched down beneath the Christmas tree, snagging a gift from the floor and hastily tearing the gift tag labelled- Technoblade; from the gift before setting it next to the small borrower child. 

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” 

Tommy removed his hands and squealed in delight, quickly reaching down to hug the gift. 

“Oh thank you Santa! You really are the most poggers man ever!!!” Tommy spoke rapidly, smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “Well after me of course, but only by a little bit!” 

Wilbur chuckled as he gazed affectionately at the blonde hunched over the brightly wrapped gift. “You’re welcome Tommy. I’m glad you like it.”

The boy quickly stood, and started hauling the gift to the crack in the wall, as they tried to shove the gift through. Unfortunately while the crack had been enough for Tommy to squeeze through, it wasn’t quite wide enough to let the present go in without getting a tad scrunched up and paper torn. 

“Um, Tommy? Is there perhaps a bigger entrance I could take this too?” Wilbur suggested, cringing slightly as the boy gave another hard shove on the gift, intent on getting it through no matter what.

“It’ll fit. Just gotta keep pushing it in.” 

After a few more attempts, the boy did in fact give up and relented their efforts allowing Wilbur to pull the now crumpled present back out from the crack, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and place it behind the toaster, assuring him he would get it before the Bean woke up explaining how the electrical socket actually came off as a secret entrance.

He offered to take Tommy over to it too, but the stubborn boy refused, insisting that he had done enough and needed to hurry up and deliver presents to the other children before the night was over.

Taking one more long look at the boy, Wilbur watched as Tommy disappeared through the crack into the walls, the sound of tiny footsteps pitter pattering away before Wilbur himself quietly crept back to his room before he removed the Santa costume and flopped down onto his bed. 

He’d just met a tiny child.

A tiny child trying to survive in his walls.

That was deathly afraid of him.

Quickly Wilbur shot up from his bed snatching his phone from the night stand; a plan forming in his mind. The screen read 9:31 pm before he hastily unlocked it and dove into his contacts, quickly stopping on a profile of a girl with light pink hair, dialling their number shortly after.

The phone rang twice before a woman answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Niki? Hey! How’s the holidays going?” Wilbur asked as he grabbed his coat and gloves from the wardrobe.

“So I need a favour…”

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy awoke warm for the first time that week.

He opened his eyes blearily, almost willing himself to fall back into dream land before his eyes snapped fully open. Tommy rubbed his eyes a few times, eyes going wide trying to comprehend that this was real and not just a dream as the thoughts of the previous night played through his head.

He was in his Christmas present: A brand new pair of bright red, fluffy woollen socks- the most perfect bed ever and exactly what Tommy had asked for. He had basically run to get his gift as fast as possible, before hauling it back through the walls to a space close by the bookshelf; the space seemingly much more homely after last night's introductions. 

He hugged the woollen fabric tightly, smiling as he remembered the soft smile Santa had as he watched him go and how kind and gentle he had been with him the entire time.

The Borrower was so pleased and grateful that he had been able to meet the Santa Claus, and would cherish the magical night forever.

He stayed snuggled in his new bed for a little while longer before his stomach grumbled in protest that he should go and have something to eat. Albeit a little grumbly, his hunger eventually won out and Tommy made his way through the walls back to the kitchen so he could gather some food before the Bean woke up.

Stealthily, he removed the electrical socket, expecting to make it a quick supply run; stepping out into the open before freezing in surprise.

Laid out in a neat pile behind the toaster was a small stack of brightly wrapped gifts all wrapped in different coloured and patterned paper, and right in the middle, an envelope with his name written in gold cursive. Tommy smiled brightly, as he eagerly ran forward to the awaiting stack of gifts, quickly grabbing a gift reading the label. 

To: Tommy From: Santa

Tommy denies that he cried that day. 

That he took each gift home and opened each one oh so delicately, afraid if he didn’t they might just disappear, happy tears trailing down his cheek as he opened a gift revealing a beautiful, blue knitted sweater- and in just his size. 

His tears didn’t cease as he opened the other gifts revealing several new pairs of warm winter clothes, new rope and hooks for climbing, some tea candles with a tiny piece of flint and steel to light them, and the tiniest iced cookies he had ever seen. He could actually hold this in one hand like humans did and he had a whole bag of them!!! His prayers had been answered and he couldn’t be more thankful.

Soon, the only thing that remained was the envelope.

He dried his face as best he could, doing his best to not smear any tears or snot onto the pristine surface as he opened the envelope, revealing a card with a picture of glitter candy canes decorating the front. 

Settled back into his new bed, Tommy opened the card and read the message inside.

Dear Tommy, It was lovely meeting you and getting to know your story. I figured you might  like some extra gifts as well to help you be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls. I think you should try talking to him.  You might be surprised. Sincerely, Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

Tommy’s smile became puzzled as he reread the last few lines.

Who the heck was Wilbur?

Was that the name of the Bean that lived here?

Oh come on, that's not fair! How come Santa knew Wilbur’s name but not his!

He grumbled a little bit at the thought, but his mind kept drawing back to the last line of the card.

‘He’s not as scary as you think.’

“Hmpf, you keep saying that.” Tommy grumbled. 

What was with Santa’s insistence on this?

As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Santa for putting forward such a ridiculous idea, Tommy decided to drag himself out of bed and to the book shelf crack. The Bean had gotten up not long after Tommy had made it back to his new home, but he’d been a tad too distracted to really care about how slow and heavy they had been trudging about this morning unlike their usually poised self.

Currently, said Bean was sitting on the couch, the exact same spot he and Santa had been last night, absentmindedly staring at his hand.

How could Santa think this guy was any good? They had kidnapped him unknowingly, almost let him die from hypothermia unknowingly, destroyed the top of his home unknowingly and Santa still thinks they won’t hurt him?

Okay so maybe it wasn’t their fault all those things happened just because they didn’t know he was there, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still very capable of hurting him for having to do all those things. But then again, Santa knew who was naughty or nice. And he wouldn’t ask him to do something that would endanger his safety if this ‘Wilbur’ guy wasn’t a good person right?

Tommy observed the Bean a little longer, as they ran their thumb over their palm. Their normally neat curly hair was all over the place and he could have sworn there were black bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. They suddenly turned their head and were staring straight at his crack by the book shelf. The Borrower was certain they couldn’t see him from the couch, but ducked back just slightly in case.

The Bean simply sighed as a small smile graced their features. Tommy was right about the black bags. Bean did not look like they had slept at all. 

He thought back to what Santa had said. 

I think you should try talking to him.

They certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Maybe they really weren’t bad like the Jolly man said?

But was it really worth taking the risk and talking to this guy?

Before he could dwell on it for much longer, the door bell sounded and Wilbur snapped his head to the sound before standing and stretching; their limbs popping and cracking slightly from their limited use. Before he left the living room, the man stopped and stared at his crack once more. Tommy didn’t dare breathe as they simply smiled and shook their head, before exiting and headed towards the front door.

Tommy allowed himself to exhale as the sound of footsteps got further away.

“Weirdo.” Tommy muttered to himself as he pushed himself back from the crack and began to head back to his bed for a well deserved rest.

He’d think about what Santa said, and just maybe he’d talk to this- Wilbur. If not, he hoped he'd meet Santa again so he could thank them in person.

Once he was back in his bed, Tommy quickly slipped in snuggling down, allowing himself to drift off to the chatter of beings much larger than himself from beyond the walls.

“Wil! So good to see you! It’s been ages!”

“Hi Dad, thanks for letting me host. I’m so glad you and Techno could make it!

“So are we, but you look like shit mate. Up late again? Wouldn't be related to that surprise you were telling us about?”

“You could say that…” 

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy never did meet Santa Claus again.

The card proudly on display in his new home, a secret hope he would one day and a constant reminder of what Santa had asked him to try.

And maybe one day, Tommy would finally take up the old man's advice and go and speak to Wilbur, and discover perhaps they may have been right.

Maybe then he’d finally have a friend to keep him warm during the holiday seasons and to rely on like he had wished. 

One that seemed to always know just what he needed despite never telling them, and was very insistent about never wearing Santa costumes.

No matter how many times a little boy begged….

 ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗   ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻  ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was a lot of words....

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING TO THE END! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it and it means a lot you read all the way through <3

Tag List: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10

And cue rant: Honestly you guys have no idea just how much you all mean to me an in this community and the impact you've had on me in the last year alone. I could not be more thankful for being apart of this and getting to know you guys. Getting so back into writing has been really good for me and rekindled something I love so I can't thank you enough.

And even though I know I've been a little quieter online, I'm still here lurking about and working on projects. A lot has happened in the last few months alone and I'm quite happy that I'm limiting myself to be a bit more healthier with my online habits.

Anyways thanks so much if you read this far!

Thanks to my Beta readers @a-xyz-s squishy and munchkin for reading this for me, and I wish you all a very safe and wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

-Beckyu ❤��

[lorelaiislatte]

Do you think there's a chance a streaming service will pick ncis:h? I've signed the petition but do we dare to hope? I'm tired of this happening all the time. I just dont understand. It was doing fine in ratings and it's a part of a franchise that keeps getting more spin offs? How that makes sense? Do you know the ratings compared with the others ncis shows? Sorry im asking you but im not from usa and i have no idea how american netwoks work. So sad rn.

okay SO i am also not from the us but have done this dance before sooooo:

1) from what i’ve heard, they were planning to move either another ncis show (i think sydney?) or another cbs show to paramount plus - which they now are no longer doing. in theory yes, this opens up the possibility for ncishi to move over there; in practice, i’m not holding my breath, as typically that negotiation would happen before a cancellation announcement

2) how does it make sense? the honest answer is that it doesn’t. like, it really doesn’t. it’s been holding steady at sixth of 14 cbs shows in the ratings (which is a brilliant number, ensures it’s profitable, and is also impressive for a procedural that’s still relatively new). it’s been beating a LOT of other crime procedurals in viewership and viewer retention, and reviewers have been singing its praises. i think this is why it feels so much as if it’s because they just view this show as less valuable (socially and economically) than their usual white guy cop shows; it’s very difficult to argue that your profitable, successful show is too expensive when you’re flying cast and crews across - or, potentially, internationally to - australia, to continue a less-highly-rated show with no issue.

3) as far as ratings go - ncis hawai’i episodes were pulling in as many as 10 million viewers last year (s2 e10 came in with 10.5 mil, as per variety telecast viewership reports) which has it going toe to toe with the core ncis (seems to pull approx. 8-10mil per episode, via hollywood reporter). for the 18-49 demographic across us series, ncis hawaii is ranking at #13 of #21 as per tvseriesfinale.com - this is significantly above ncis sydney (renewed, #15), and elsbeth (#19, renewed), two other cbs shows, one of which in particular is incredibly expensive. crucially, ncishi has actually increased its viewership, which is VERY difficult to do on a year to year basis. its up by 4.18% among 18 to 49 year olds - for comparison the core NCIS is down 0.83% and fbi international - a competing show - is down by 3.73%. bear in mind that even a single percentage point represents hundreds of thousands of viewers.

i also want to point out that ranking at #13 isn’t strictly representative of viewer numbers, it’s about percentage of viewers that are within that core age bracket. the neighbourhood is ranking at #6, but only pulling in 4.8 million viewers - ncishi is at #13, and pulling in 5.2 million. ncishi pulls in over half a million more viewers than four shows ranked above it in that chart.

so essentially - it doesn’t make sense. from any perspective. it doesn’t make sense from a business perspective (ncis sydney is more expensive to produce and brings in approx. 200k less viewers than ncishi, and ncishi crew had already agreed to a shortened, budget-restrained final season), it doesn’t make sense for a ratings perspective (it continues to outperform many of cbs’ own shows, including ones that have been renewed), it doesn’t make sense from a social perspective (people are loving it, even outside of our fandom spaces).

objectively, it’s a really, really bad move by cbs. i also thought being part of a franchise would be a kind of safety net - fool me once, i guess. all the evidence suggests that they just don’t care enough about ncishi, especially when they’ve got their bullshit white guy ncis origins show, a young sheldon spinoff (?? who asked?) and a plethora of other cookie-cutter shows they can just keep going with. and we can make a pretty educated guess as to why, when the main things that set ncishi apart from the other ncis shows are its diversity and character dynamics

(edit: it was pointed out that people aren’t being flown to sydney from the us, which is true, and bad phrasing on my part - but many are flown across australia at seemingly similar costs to mainland us/hawai’i flights, and i believe not all of the leads are based in australia either, so i’ve updated that bit for clarity. apologies!)

[tempenensis]

If you have time, do you mind helping me with some character analysis? Gojo is very hard to write because he's a very internalized person who doesn't actually show his inner thoughts very often. The times we get them, he is much more serious and analytical than his frivolous personality is meant to show.

Gojo is popular for the same reason that people hate him: truthfully we don't know much about *him* when it comes to the kinds of details which can be used to figure out where someone's personality came from. He comes from a privileged background, so there's lots of people who assume that he never really went through any troubles - that he never had moments of self-doubt or needed to find his place in the world, that his powers likely came easy to him because he's a prodigy, that his family "spoiling" him meant that he was never subjected to the cruel or intense training we know some of the nobles have set up in their family homes. He's also always been special, and it's unlikely that he ever had a desire to be a total non-sorcerer. He could walk away any time he wanted, like Yuki, and it's not like anyone could stop him either.

And Gege never truly refutes this. Gojo's personality is also so good at pretending nothing ever touches him (thematic!) that from the surface it could seem true. He is not the kind of person to be filled with self-pity so we never get panels of him hashing out his situation with the other characters (not that he can because no one is his equal enough to do this...). He's so busy he literally doesn't have time to dwell. He has been shown spending time with his friends, but no one wants to talk about the shit job they all do during down time, they unwind and talk about regular stuff, like regular people, and simply enjoy the company.

But deduction also tells us that people who grew up normal and well adjusted don't behave the way he's behaving. (Nobara and Yuuji had the most normal sounding childhoods of all the students and it shows, even behind the typical shonen characterization).

Clearly, the flashback arc is shown because in a way that is the origin story of the current conflict, and the origin of Gojo's current personality (Geto had a lot of positive influence on him).

Gojo turns against the sorcerer system because it cost him Geto, not because of anything that may or may not have happened to him. He was doing every mission the higher-ups could possibly have sent him on after Riko died. He wasn't rebelling against the system, he was trying to solve it by becoming the single solution all on his own. Again, not the response of a well-adjusted person.

He was not originally the kind of person to take revenge or turn against a system for personal issues, although he later becomes a little like this when he starts taking young sorcerer's under his wing.

There's a lot of fandom speculation that has hints that these things could to be true:

He was spoiled by his family, but they were emotionally distant in the way of all sorcerer families, praising the technique and seeing the technique instead of the child who was wielding it. It's possible he doesn't associate closely with his clan apart from very structured social patterns because he realizes that being "special" never meant he didn't deserve being treated like a child or taught how to behave. He's perfectly aware he has a "bad personality" and knows that this is in part because of how he was raised.

He projects emotionally onto the students in his care, and acknowledges that something about the way he was treated (mostly as a fine commodity) was deeply unfair, but he hasn't actually found another way except to acknowledge at the end of the day that this job gives you trauma and it's usually not worth dying for unless that's your thing (I mean how he throws the students into situations where they think they're going to die and his concession is to place himself as the safety net), and that you shouldn't miss age-appropriate events just because some grown up tells you to become a better little cog.

A lot of the fandom likes to assume that using Six-Eyes is overstimulating or possibly painful for him right away because at least then there's a cost to his using his power, and once again the sorcerer system doesn't care about the cost to its workers (I'm not sure about the right away part. we know that if he doesn't cover his eyes he gets tired, but Gege doesn't want to give gojo any weaknesses so who knows how long it takes).

Gojo is maybe not "afraid" of getting truly close to people but he keeps people at arm's length. No one at this point could bear the burden he does, and that's what he believes it means to be his equal. It's possible but unlikely that if someone reached out to him first, he would let him. We know touching Infinity can feel like you're touching him from the first vs.Jogo fight, and it's likely he truly does keep it on all the time, leaving him physically and psychologically prepared to keep anyone from touching him at all times, even if they don't realize it...

(Overall, it's very funny to me that Gege's friends apparently think his personality is like Gojo's. It makes it more understandable why he wouldn't want to talk about his character, or be annoyed that the person who is a secondary became too popular, but also the cat is a troll and is the kind of person to laugh and walk away if you try to ask them a question -_-. However, if you take the answers we do have literally, it sounds like Gege accidentally made a character with a lot of depth, but he doesn't want to deal with it…)

But we have no answers to the truth of these presumptions in a lot of cases, and I could keep going but I'm running out of steam and I'm already sorry to put so much in your inbox….

I know you don't give headcanons because your blog is more textual analysis blog, so I won't ask for them! Part of me is not even sure what to ask, because we simply have no answers, and I don't think anyone is going to give them to us. That's fine because fandom wants and needs space to do its own interpretations of the character, but when you want an answer that isn't there, it can truly feel like diving off a cliff to make that choice all on your own and run with it (cries because that means there are literally infinite choices to make and each of them alters the story a little).

Maybe what I'm really asking is, if you have time, would you pick apart my characterization of Gojo above? I'm a bit curious about what you agree with and what you disagree with because you're so good with finding the text evidence! I already appreciate you reading if you've gotten this far, and I appreciate all the work you do in the fandom. I won't feel bad if you refuse (not that you will, but I just want to make it clear I have no expectations!!) Thank you again so much for all you do and for letting us play in the space with you!

Hi, anon!

If you're asking about my opinion, I must say, this is pretty solid read. I agree with almost everything that you said, and can't really add much to this. Gege had said before that he "has no personality", I think that means he doesn't think too much about Gojou's character, unlike for example Yuuji or Nanami. This makes us learns more about him by crumbles dropped here and then - and not a lot actually told explicitly in the manga. ((it sounds like Gege accidentally made a character with a lot of depth, but he doesn't want to deal with it)) is actually a good point lol, fans' interest in Gojou is definitely deeper than Gege himself.

One of the most interesting thing about him is that despite his vocal opposing of the current jujutsu system, he still does his duty to this very system that he opposes. Even if he messes around sometimes, Gojou is the only special-grade sorcerer who actually goes to missions assigned to him and has been mentioned to clean other sorcerers' messes - which is why he is so busy all the time. This speaks more about him knowing that his priority lies in saving other's lives. I think for him, he is an actual proper jujutsushi who has lived as one since he was born because of the techniques he inherited - maybe the point of being a jujutsu sorcerer and what he has to do has been driven to him since he can handle his own technique. So all he knows is to be a jujutsushi first - and his desire to change the system only comes later, after he saw what this system does to people around him, especially Riko and Getou. Even then, he tries to change it from inside, as jujutsushi who is one under the very system he want to change. All he knows is how to live as a jujutsushi and he doesn't seem to want to stop being one, even if it means he can destroy the system from outside. He wants jujutsushi to continue, but with a better system, not to stop or destroy all of them entirely.

[addamvelaryon]

Just thinking about the similarities between Rhaenyra and Daeron, the eldest and youngest children of King Viserys I Targaryen...

Both are known for having beauty and charm:

At the center of the merriment, cherished and adored by all, was their only surviving child, Princess Rhaenyra, the little girl the court singers dubbed “the Realm’s Delight.” Though only six when her father came to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen was a precocious child, bright and bold and beautiful as only one of dragon’s blood can be beautiful.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession

His little brother, Prince Daeron, was the most popular of the queen’s sons, as clever as he was courteous, and most comely as well.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession

Amongst their siblings, they are the only ones to serve as cupbearers:

At eight, the princess was placed into service as a cupbearer…but for her own father, the king.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession

When he turned twelve in 126 AC, Daeron was sent to Oldtown to serve as cupbearer and squire to Lord Hightower.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession

It should be noted though, that despite their bright and charming personalities, they have a darker nature underneath that shows itself when they grow angry. In the midst of their anger, they can act in a way that might be viewed as beyond reason:

Then Queen Rhaenyra grew most wroth, Septon Eustace writes. In a voice as cold as ice, she commanded Ser Luthor Largent to take twenty gold cloaks to the Dragonpit and arrest Ser Addam Velaryon. “Question him sharply, and we will learn if he is true or false, beyond a doubt.” As to the girl Nettles, “She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her,” the queen declared.

[...]

Therefore, let a command be sent at once to Maidenpool, but only for the eyes of Lord Mooton. “Let him take her at table or abed and strike her head off. Only then shall my prince be freed.”

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

When Lady Caswell appeared on the ramparts of her castle to ask for the same terms Lady Merryweather had received, Hightower let Prince Daeron give the answer: “You shall receive the same terms you gave my nephew Maelor.” Her ladyship could only watch as Bitterbridge was sacked.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

I think it’s also worth considering the impact their living situations might have had on them, re: them developing some type of abandonment issues. The early years of her childhood were a happy time but Rhaenyra ends up losing her mother at a very young age. After Rhaenyra’s father remarries to Alicent, the environment at court becomes a hostile one for Rhaenyra. The grown men around her have dubious intentions as well. When Rhaenyra finally manages to find a safety net for herself in the mini court she creates at Dragonstone, it doesn’t last long and Laena/Laenor/Harwin all die in quick succession. Once the war starts, Rhaenyra ends up losing her children one by one as well. Rhaenyra’s fear about losing her loved ones is a big part of her characterization and influences many of the actions she takes during the Dance. As for Daeron, he is the only one amongst his siblings to be sent away far from home. Even if being fostered with his maternal relatives was something done for his own good, it doesn’t change how a child his age might have felt being shipped off to live in an unfamiliar city while the rest of his siblings remain in the capital with their parents. Not to mention, Daeron is depicted as being a more capable individual than his older brothers but at the same time, he’s described as being always in their shadow. That discrepancy is bound to affect him. No matter how dutiful a person is, there will always remain that underlying feeling that all your efforts will never make you good enough in the eyes of your family.

These two siblings are also the emotional type. However, it’s a trait that does leave them feeling helpless when faced with the violence of war:

Rhaenyra was still so griefsick over the death of her son Lucerys that she absented herself from the war council, giving over her command to the Sea Snake and his wife, Princess Rhaenys.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: The Red Dragon and the Gold

Septon Eustace and Grand Maester Munkun both assert that Prince Daeron was sickened by all he saw and commanded Ser Hobert Hightower to put a stop to it, but Hightower’s efforts proved as ineffectual as the man himself.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

My most favourite passage from the book connecting these two, however, is the following quote:

Yet the greatest threat to Rhaenyra’s reign was not Aemond One-Eye, but his younger brother, Prince Daeron the Daring, and the great southron army led by Lord Ormund Hightower.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

It greatly exemplifies the tragedy of Rhaenyra’s reign. Daeron is the sibling that’s most like Rhaenyra, and he’s the one who’s positioned as being the biggest threat to her. It could almost be interpreted as Rhaenyra’s downfall being not just because of outside forces but also internal self choices. When she finally came into power, as the Queen on the Iron Throne, she’s in the least ideal situation a monarch could be in: empty treasury, frightened smallfolk, nobles of uncertain loyalty. At the same time, her actions over the course of her reign are presented as the reason people ultimately turn against her (eg. condemning the Dragonseeds and overtaxing the citizens of King’s Landing). 

[barbaracleboy]

Random, but I'm just gonna drop ideas I had for a potential backstory/potential headcanons for Mothiva (plus a little for Zasp too):

So, Mothiva was born outside of Bugaria, the youngest in a very poor family of Moths. One that would be lucky if each member got more than maybe one full meal a day. Mothiva's father passed away shortly before she pupated, so she mostly spent time with her older brother, her even older sister, and her mother. It was a bad time, Mothiva hated living the poor life, and she was very vocal in that hate. Her mother wasn't necessarily neglectful to her kids, she tried her best with taking care of them, but the woman was clearly stressed and she seemed to take some of it out verbally on her children (Mothiva claiming to have been targeted the most). Another thing about Mothiva is that she ended up becoming a decent fighter mainly due to her living conditions: her family back then didn't have a single, steady home, and the places they'd sleep would often be shared by things like Seedlings. As well, Mothiva fought with her siblings somewhat often, and it wasn't too uncommon for these fights to escalate to physical violence.

Really, one of the few things that made Mothiva and her family happy back then was singing: occasionally, when they were all bored or gloomy, the family would sit around and take turns singing songs. Everyone especially liked when it was Mothiva's turn, as even as a child she had a wonderful singing voice. The only time Mothiva remembers her mother smiling was when it was her youngest child's turn to sing. One time Mothiva was a bit away from home and sang, getting some Bugs to give her money. She brought it back home only to be berated by her mother for "begging". This ended up teaching Mothiva to keep secrets and put up facades: she didn't stop singing for money, she just never told her mom about it and tried hiding the money from her, lying about it if found out. Mothiva's siblings never cared about the money and never said anything to their mother.

Eventually, one Bug gave Mothiva not just money, but advice: they suggested she head to Bugaria, where it'd be possible for her to get as famous "as she deserves". The young Moth very quickly took this to heart, so she packed up her savings and anything else she'd want with her and left home, not even telling her family. Mothiva never brings up her life before Bugaria, she doesn't talk about that time to anyone except maybe Zasp, and she tries her damndest to bury or forget the memories of her life back then. Mothiva doesn't know and isn't interested in knowing how her family's been, she thinks that they think she's dead.

After getting to Bugaria, Mothiva started her idol career at around age 17 or 18. About a year in she felt she needed a bodyguard, so she hired Zasp, a Wasp she had met some time after her arrival; Zasp and his family were Solitary Wasps that moved to the Wasp Kingdom, but at some point his parents left while Zasp chose to stay. Zasp would later leave the Wasp Kingdom himself when he started realizing how the people there changed (after the Wasp King's takeover). This escape was dangerous and is how Zasp got the scar on his eye. Anyway, Zasp felt he needed work so he became a Bodyguard for Mothiva, and after seeing how well she could defend herself even without his help Zasp suggested they form an Exploration team. If nothing else, it would serve for more opportunities to get famous and find new audiences: Mothiva never, EVER wants to be poor again, so she likes having as many "safety nets" as possible (Singing, Acting, Fashion, Exploring). Truthfully, Mothiva's often not stoked to go on long, arduous adventures, but it's part of her image now and what's more it helps with training. Plus, more excuses to spend time with Zasp are nice.

[wh4thefnk]

I think it’s multiple factors leading to him choosing Alba. He’s really been thinking about a traditional married life with kids for a long time now and his parents are getting older and he wants them to be around to see it and be involved. He’s very attached to his family and I think that factors in. I think there’s an element of him pulling the trigger on having kids and also wanting to retain control of his life. I think he wants to build a family life to fulfil some deeper inner self-validation and he’s not willing to dedicate himself to his career like that in order to achieve it. I don’t think he’s deliriously in love with Alba but I really think he does value being in control and he’s not willing to be vulnerable to a profound partnership. He’s not willing to wait around for the woman who he would genuinely be deeply in love with and who would complement him and be an equal partner. He definitely has other choices who would accomodate his wishes but he doesn’t want them. He probably loves Alba in a light-hearted, flirtatious, fun way and he’s already invested so much. She’s attractive in a way that will get him high fives from his buddies, and that’s a big part of how men choose who to date and marry even if it’s not conscious. It might be a reaction to Jenny because I get the sense she would have been very firm and serious in her relationship standards and he might have found that nagging and oppressive. I don’t think Alba is the first 20 something he’s dated somewhat seriously but it’s telling that she’s the first one he chose to go public with. Why doesn’t he have a history of genuine age variety in his public relationships? Why didn’t he publicly date a 23 year old when he was 30, 33 or 35 when it would have been more accepted? He was staring down 40 and then he decided to do this. Alba is a deliberate choice. And she’s perfect for it because your early 20s are still a formative time and hers have been formed around him. She’s primed to be what he wants for as long as she doesn’t wisen up or is content with what she gets from their relationship. Also he feels she has enough substance to her that she can be presented publicly as an exceptional young woman with that beauty pageant bio. It’s not like she’s just some IG influencer or OF girl (in his mind). Plus since she’s still quite young, it buys him some time with the kids thing that he probably recognizes subconsciously. There’s a safety net of him knowing that she might not want them for another couple of years but he still gets to feel like he’s actively taking steps toward a major milestone in his life that’s been bothering him and feel like he’s in control. He can look like he’s genuinely making an effort but also taking into consideration her different life stage. There’s probably some fear there because he’s wanted it and built it up for so long. It’s like he’s in the training wheels stage of being where he truly wants to be and dipping his toe in. All speculation of course. I hope this makes sense. I’ve thought a lot about this because it’s like a puzzle. 😅

Yes, yes, yes and yes! Amazing analysis. Also your point of view about how being with someone younger might give him the sense that he’s buying time; that’s an interesting way to look at it.

And thank you for bringing up Jenny; I think we cannot go ahead without comparing; I feel the relationship with Jenny is an indicator somewhere in all this; no, I don’t think he didn’t have any other relationships after her but that’s besides the point; I think with Jenny he sort of learned what he wanted to… avoid in a woman; if we look at it at least superficially it seems Alba is quiet the opposite of her; almost like a reaction like you’ve mentioned.

[canichangemyblogname]

No, for real. What is your rent, then? I'm down here making just under that, and my rent is $1500/month alone. I have $100k in student loans from Champaign-Urbana, which is two hours north of me. Plus, with car payments, all the utilities, phone, and internet, I don't get me started on groceries and gas. I work a second job and skate barely over the finish line every month just to do it all over again. The articles saying Millennials are living without a safety net and having no savings because they're going on vacations make me scream. What vacation? Do you mean the week I stay home every year because I use or lose my PTO and binge-watch something because I paid for a month of Netflix? I don't think that's what they're talking about. I know people my age who have money, but that's because their parents paid for college or their house or SOMETHING mine could have never afforded.

When I lived in a two bedroom with 4 other adults in Waukegan, each of our rent was about $325 because we split it between all 4 of us. Average rent for a 2 bdrm there is about $1500+, which I *cannot* afford alone. We lived in a “not so nice” area (it was fine; this really means parking was a bitch), so rent was cheaper.

When my sister lived in Urbana-Champaign, her rent for what was essentially a studio was about $900/ mo in a nice place in a nice part of town. It was actually a crazy good deal, and we think the landlord marked it down to attract students, but because she still had so many vacancies and the semester had already started. There was nothing “wrong” with the apartment, either. (It was also probably because it was a 4 bedroom and she couldn’t rent it out as a full 4 bedroom, so she rented out each bedroom at $900/ea instead of a full 4 bdrm for $3600, which is on the expensive side in Champaign.)

Currently looking into moving, and most studios within Cook County cost around $1,200/ mo. (I saw one listed for $1800 in the SUBURBS a while back and thought: “Nah, you’re off your rocker. For a studio?”) I actually need to be closer to work, and I do not mind having very little space as I don’t have a lot of stuff and it’d be just me. $1,200 is stretching it for me, but the one time I found a place for $1,000, it had roaches and a mold problem, so… sometimes the little extra is worth it. There’s actually a place near-er my work that I put myself on a waitlist for where a 1 bdrm is $1,250 (and it doesn’t have a roach problem).

A lack of adequate housing stock is a national issue, and, as in every county, Cook County does struggle in this regard, don’t get me wrong. But you go just west to the Collar Counties, and some of those towns in there have next to no vacancy. Most of the available housing stock out there is also reserved for people 65+. So, there’s certainly something to be said about the benefits of recognizing a need for “young professional” housing, often 1 bdrm or studios within a simple commute to major business corridors or districts. The thing about Cook? They tax you up the ass, and the taxes aren’t progressive, so they’re taxing you obscenely on things like food and gasoline, which disproportionately hurts us.

[grad604designresearch2avastiven]

Week Eight

Unpacking your chosen elements:

Bob The Builder

Bob the Builder. My favourite show when I was a baby, my parents have said that they could not take pull me away from watching it or I would cry and scream. My first word was Bob, and Bob the Builder was my first birthday cake. 

Movie Symbol

Film. My love and obsession with TV and movies has been around ever since I first discovered film. My room is full of posters from my favourite TV shows and I even collect Lego from some of my favourtie movies. 

YouTube Symbol

Youtube. Youtube was a creative media that was a big part of my growing up. I remember  coming home from school every day and watching any new videos released by my favourite YouTubers.

Apple Logo

Apple. The first ever Apple product I ever owned was an IPod touch 2 that I got for my 10th Birthday. Ever since then I have been a loyal Apple customer. I am technology obsessed and this has only grown since I began studying graphic design.

The Simpsons

The Simpsons. The Simpsons was a huge inspiration of mine growing up. I loved the show so much it’s the reason the first ever dream job I had was “to be an  animator”.

Sunglasses

My sunnies. My favourite pair of sunglasses that barley ever get worn until summer time rolls around. These sunglasses remind me of summer break, Christmas, New Years, and spending time with my friends and family.

Auckland

Auckland. Auckland was where I was born and raised. I’ve moved around a bit growing up, but never left Auckland. I think Auckland will always feel like home to me no matter where I end up in life.

Book

A book. This drawing was based off one of my books from the series ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ or better known as ‘Game of Thrones’. I’m a huge nerd and love all things fantasy. I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember.

Air Jordans

My favourite pair of shoes that I got for christmas last year. I love fashion and I had my eye set on this pair of shoes for months. I find I’m very specific with my taste and know exactly what I like and what I don’t most of the time.

Koalay teddy

My Koala teddy that is very precious to me. His name is Koalay and he was my aunties when she was a child before he was passed down to me. I remember my Auntie telling me to ‘take good care of him’ and that I have.

Mirror

My desk/makeup mirror. Another object that I use every day. I have had this mirror for years now and it has been very reliable and trusty. I bring it with me whenever I go away as it is just small enough to pack.  Perfect getting ready mirror.

Sunscreen

My sunscreen. Ever since a very young age my Mum has drilled into me to wear sunscreen every day, a lesson that I have carried with me into adulthood. I put sunscreen on every day no matter the weather.

Makeup Sponge

My makeup sponge. Probably the most used object in my makeup routine as I use this after ever step to blend everything out smoothly. A sponge will come with me any time I’m traveling or going out.

Makeup Brush

One of my makeup brushes. This brush is from a set I ordered from England from one of my favorite makeup brands. I’ve always seen makeup as another media of art that I’m very passionate about.

Watercolour palette

A watercolour set that my Nana gave me for Christmas one year. My Nana is my only grandparent so I am very close with her, she is a painter and whenever I would visit as a kid we would spend the day painting in her backyard.

Perfume

My favourite perfume. Even though I’m a broke university student I always find enough money to restock on this perfume when I run out. The smell is perfect, not too strong or too sweet. I wear this every day and love having a signature smell.

Pencil

One of my pencils. Pencil drawing will always be my safety net, as it’s what I’ve been doing for the longest. Even as I learn and improve my skills in other areas of art pencil drawing will always be a favourite as that was where it all began.

Headphones

My headphones. I barley ever go anywhere without headphones or air buds. I need my music constantly, on the bus, walking, working out, doing design homework, I’m listening all the time to every genre there is.

Hair brush

My hairbrush. Another gift from my mum. Me and both of my two sisters all have matching brushes and I find it the best brush for my hair. Nothing else has the same effect and I bring it with me everywhere.

Gold necklace

A necklace I got from my Mum for my 16th Birthday. This necklace is real gold with gem in the eye. I treat it very carefully as it is such a beautiful piece of jewelery that I plan of having for the rest of my life.

[niuniente]

How do you manage to sustain yourself with a chronic illness? I'm scared of leaving home because I don't think I'll be able to get a "normal" job with my illness to pay the bills. Living on your own seems so expensive Q-Q

My blessing is that I was just born in a country with a basic social security, where if you are unable to find your own income, the government will look after you, for your whole life. Parents will get money for their kids from the government (this income is for all parents, no matter how much or little they earn) and all students get student money and housing benefit. All retired people will get income and housing, too. No one's left without help (though if you're living together with your partner and their income is high enough, your partner is supposed to look after you financially. This excludes children, who will always get money, as I mentioned above).

This requires heavy taxing (so getting rich here with an income is difficult, as the taxing is progressive; the more you earn, the more you're taxed. Get a raise = get almost all of that raise taxed off) but the positive side is that the country is safe. Like SUPER SAFE, one of the safest in the whole world. No one needs to steal, rob, go to prostitution or to gangs for their income and to feed their kids. My neighbors are leaving their bicycles outside for 24/7 and no one's stealing them. I can go out at any time of the day without any fears - I'm very often outside at 3am, alone. I can leave my balcony door wide open for fresh air while I go out for shopping. One could, if they wanted, climb up to my house and steal stuff, but no one's going to do that. There's no need for that.

I'm working a 0 contract job. I get paid whenever I have some work, but when I have no work and when I can't earn the living wage amount, the government will pay the rest for me, including part of the housing. Without this basic social security I would have been on the streets long, long ago.

While we do have some homeless people, the things need to go REALLY, REALLY badly for a person to slip through this safety net. If you are unable to work for illness, you can apply for a retirement due health reasons (including mental health issues) and if the government approves this, you can retire from the workforce and the government pays for your living and housing. There's no age limit to this, though the process can sometimes be really difficult. For example, my mother tried to apply for a retirement due health issues but the government just said that you are too young to have these issues, we can't approve your application (like the health problems would heal because the government doesn't believe in them :'D). She's now in the process of being approved for the retirement due health reasons as her health has gotten worse and she's a decade older now. Seems they're approving her application this time.

[b-lessings]

Allahu aālam but I feel that as the " older " sisters we have a responsibility towards our younger sisters in this ummah to at least provide a safe space for them to at least talk, voice their fears, their worries, their uncertainties, talk about the blurred areas, the confusing parts of this journey, without the fear of being judged or attacked, especially for something that wasn't their fault, or something that is already painful for them, and Allah knows how painful this Duniya gets sometimes. I have been receiving a lot of positive feedback about the asks I answer and it always makes me ponder. Allah knows I am no scholar or āalima, I just share the little knowledge I absorb. My words are not to be taken as rules or facts. I am just a sister who one day was in your shoes, who can relate to your pain and whom life has taught one or two things. I think it is vital and very urgent to provide support and comfort for our sisters, especially the ones at a very sensitive age, it is our responsibility to protect them and care for their emotional and spiritual well-being as much as Allah allows us to do so. In fact, this life could get lonely, confusing, and tough enough sometimes that we need each other to make it through and not to be dragged into Shaytan's net. The young women in this ummah have to deal with a lot: the culture and traditions' pressure on the one hand, parental pressure, peer pressure, deconstructing the westernized hollywood culture, work, the dangers of being a woman out there in the world, abuse with all its forms, the oppressive patriarchy that interprets the religion as it pleases to control them and steal their rights and then on the other hand their innate needs and desires to love, be loved, companionship, etc. So we achieve absolutely nothing by sitting arms crossed in the back and watching our sisters suffer, and not even offering comfort. And let's not talk about the ones who judge or scare them off, which only makes them feel more lonely and more isolated. We are all one and the same, a suffering of one sister is the suffering of all of us. And if we look closely we are all going through the same thing as women of this ummah, it's the same story, just different details. So let's make it our mission to be more open to each other, to provide safety and support for our sisters, and to stand by them against this cruel duniya.

May Allah swt protect every girl and woman in this ummah first and foremost, and in the whole world. May Allah swt guide us all to his straight path and change our hearts to what pleases HIM, may Allah swt empower us with each other and make us be there for each other.

By Allah swt, me, the space I occupy on this platform and the time I spend here is donated for my sisters, especially the younger ones, the lost ones, the confused ones, the ones in need for a hug, a soft word, or any form of support and encouragement. May Allah swt make us do this for his sake and his sake only, and purify our hearts from riyaa and nifaq. Baraka Allahu fikonna ajmaeen.

- A.Z. 🤍🍃

[depressing-debbie]

Hey! I LOVED your squad dad levi headcanons, can we get some of like modern erwin and levi as actual dads? Thanks love 😘

Absolutely <3 these two are so adorable, they would be the best dads

This is significantly longer than I anticipated but whatever

Very much unedited so forgive me if it’s odd

Erwin and Levi As Dads

Unpopular opinion, but Levi would absolutely be the one to bring up kids. Sure it was a bit awkward for him, but he’s not going to wait around for Erwin to come to that conclusion. He wants a family, and it makes him so happy just to think about.

But, to be fair, Erwin probably had the same thought around the same time, and when Levi brought it up?? Absolutely thrilled. There was some talk about finances and plans for the future and everything, but for the most part, they were pretty much immediately in agreement.

Neither of them had any knowledge of how you’re supposed to parent, so they immediately went hunting for books and information to learn as much as they could.

They ended up adopting a little girl, and promptly having a crisis because those two gay dads knew absolutely nothing about girls, but they read enough parenting books to make it work.

The first time they held their baby, there was a lot of crying. Neither of them are particularly teary in most situations, but it really just struck them how lucky they were.

Levi was absolutely terrified. He didn’t have a normal childhood, and he wants nothing more than to give his kid what he never had. He was honestly paralyzed by that fear at first, afraid that any wrong move would ruin everything. But pretty much as soon as they fell into their new routine, he allowed himself to relax just slightly.

They have a photo album in the living room commemorating even the tiniest little milestones, and they are so ridiculously proud.

Imagine the three of them sitting on the floor as they try to teach their daughter with those little blocks and colorful rings, Erwin absolutely sneaking in something about how she should dedicate her heart to her passions, disguised as a little nursery rhyme, making Levi roll his eyes.

I don’t think I need to tell you all this, but their child is absolutely brilliant. She has Erwin’s strategy and critical thinking skills, and Levi’s quiet instincts; together, she’s the smartest kid in school. They are proud of her no matter what, obviously, but they’re secretly a little glad she took after them. 

They teach her from a young age to balance independence and trust in others. Imagine that scene of Levi telling Eren he has to chose whether to rely on himself or the squad, but it’s him teaching his daughter how to ride a bike. (Does that make any sense? Hopefully) 

She ends up being so bold and driven, because they’ve taught her that she can do anything, and because she knows that they are always in her corner.

Please just take a second and imagine Erwin and Levi as PTA dads. They absolutely go to every parent meeting and advocate for the students, calling the other parents out on their bullshit. Their daughter also asks them every time if they can chaperone class parties and field trips, and they genuinely love it.

They get so invested in her interests and activities. She likes sports? Boom, Erwin's already outside helping her practice, and they’re cheering her on at games. She’s involved in performance arts? You should see Levi running lines with her before an audition, using stupid voices to make her laugh away the stage fright, or better yet, the way Erwin cheers like a football dad from the audience at recitals. Or maybe she’s more artsy? Every single piece of her art is framed somewhere in the house. They love watching her start to discover her passions.

Erwin has to reel Levi in when he’s being a bit too strict with rules about curfew and such. He can’t help it, he just gets so nervous. But, at the end of the day, they’re not too strict. They know she’s got a smart head on her shoulders, and they want her to be able to get out and learn for herself like they did while she has a safety net.

High school years were... definitely not dull.

She takes after them both, meaning she inherited both Erwin’s stubbornness and Levi’s sarcastic temper. But, honestly, they still don’t fight much. When they do, it’s probably over something stupid, and both sides just have to swallow their pride and apologize. (Erwin and Levi are NOT the kind of parents who think they’re above apologies just because they have some kind of authority. Mutual accountability)

They made it abundantly clear that she will always have a safety net, no matter what. Maybe that means getting a call in the middle of the night and picking her up. Maybe it means having an uncomfortable conversation if she’s screwed up and needs help. Or maybe it just means crying on their shoulder after her first breakup. They’re there for her. (brb just crying)

They absolutely have family game night, and Erwin was simultaneously hurt and incredibly proud when their daughter started beating him at Monopoly. 

They read to her every night when she’s young, and even when she gets older, they read to her when she’s upset or having trouble sleeping. It’s like a little family tradition.

Imagine Levi and Erwin sitting together in the audience at her graduation and tearing up when she walks across the stage to get her diploma. And they insist on getting pictures of her in the cap and gown for the photo album with all of her baby milestones.

In conclusion: they are the best parents anyone could literally ever have, and their family is absolutely perfect.

[mhevarujta]

Zoya and the Darkling [Rule of Wolves Spoilers]

It’s a pity that fandoms mostly focus on romantic/sexual relationships, because The Darkling and Zoya have one of the most epic dynamics in the Grishaverse. The way they affect each other is so complex.

Zoya did not go to the Little Palace after being tested in the usual manner of Grisha travelling across Ravka to recruit children with powers. She was a young girl, a child really, living with a bitter and broken mother, in a home where her Suli inheritance was not appreciated, in a country that would condemn her both because of the power she let her demonstrated AND because of who she would have been without it. She was basically sold as a child-bride and her mother deluded herself into thinking that her daughter would not be raped by the old man she was marrying so that she’d feel better about herself, not to mention that she poisoned Zoya with her fears and made her afraid of her own heart. At the wedding her power broke loose and her aunt took her to a hard journey to the Little Palace so that Zoya would be tested and have a chance at a better life.

Zoya was taken in and she was separated from her family, but her aunt was ALWAYS in her heart. She started training and she was stronger than most, she was also driven and resilient. She arrived at the Little Palace when she was 8-9. When she was 13, she was the youngest one to be chosen as part of a group that would travel with the Darkling to Tsibeya to find the white tigers of Ilmisk because one of them was supposed to be an amplifier. By that age, Zoya was half in love with him already and she lived for his rare appearances at the school. She was the best, she had fought to be so, and he wanted him to see it. The Grisha were focused on hunting the female tiger, but the amplifier was a male one. He tried to kill the female’s cubs and Zoya gave them the protection of her body, she got scars that she never had tailored and she almost died, and killed the tiger to defend the cubs; not for the sake of power.

It wasn’t HER turn to get the amplifier, but since she killed the tiger only she could claim it. And THIS brilliant scene happens:

Some part of me always feared that he would send me away, banish me forever from the Little Palace. I told him I was sorry.

“But the Darkling saw me clearly even then. ‘Is that really what you wish to say?’ he asked.”

Zoya pushed a dark strand of her hair behind her ear. “So I told him the truth. I put my chin up and said, ‘They can all hang. It was my blood in the snow.’”

Nikolai stifled a laugh and a smile played over Zoya’s lips. It dwindled almost instantly, replaced by a troubled frown. “That pleased him. He told me it was a job well done. And then he said … ‘Beware of power, Zoya. There is no amount of it that can make them love you.’”

The weight of the words settled over Nikolai. Is that what we’re all searching for? Was that what he’d hunted in all those library books? In his restless travels? In his endless pursuit to seize and then keep the throne? “Was it love you wanted, Zoya?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. I wanted … strength. Safety. I never wanted to feel helpless again.”

  “Like calls to like” fits the Darkling and Alina, but it also fits Zoya and the Darkling… in fact it fits Zoya and Aleksander even more so. Both were powerful and KNEW it. Both eventually learned to be unapologetic about it and saw it as their safety net. Both were taught that power would give them safety, survival, fulfillment in some ways, but not love. And yet, as much as they denied it and hid their hearts they DID want to be loved more than anything.

Zoya only rises thereafter. She gets her rank, she is one of the most valued Grisha in the Little Palace, she is admired for her strength and beauty, she armors herself with arrogance, and ruthlessness. But she has not friends. Both her and the Darkling are surrounded by people, they are admired, but they don’t have people close to their heart. The Darkling always cared about Baghra as much as he could still manage and Zoya cared only bout Liliyana and Lada (an orphan girl that her aunt had taken in).

The Darkling SAW her. He saw how she tried like no other, he saw her pain, her anger and he considered these to be things that he could use to control her and to push her towards the direction he desired. And despite not being appreciative of her devotion when he had it, he missed it when it was gone.

When Alina got in the picture everything changed for Zoya. Yes, Zoya had feelings for the Darkling and I DO believe that her feelings and vanity would have been hurt to some extent by the intimacy in the way he approached Alina, but the primary problem was Zoya’s sense of injustice. Zoya had tried for YEARS, had trained hard, had sacrificed to be where she is. Alina never asked for any of it, but from Zoya’s perspective Alina would have been an untrained Grisha who got all the status, power and recognition that SHE had fought for without even trying. Until then, Zoya had been praised for wanting power, but when her anger is not convenient anymore, the Darkling punishes her for it and does not have a second thought about her.

And yet she remained loyal as always.

Even more so than rank, the Darkling and Liliyana were Zoya’s safety-net. And in ONE MOMENT, by genociding Novokribirsk, Zoya’s own mentor, the one who gave her safety and who was meant to create a haven for the Grisha, a person who KNEW her and who KNEW that she had family there, showed that he had no care for her, not care for human life and she wiped out the last people that Zoya loved.

He left her broken inside. In Siege and Storm, Zoya was at her lowest. She has to plead to Alina to have a position in the second army and she has to reveal a part of her heart; not just her loss of Liliyana. Her voice BREAKS when she says that the Darkling could have warned her of his plan; her pain at the idea that he did not give a crap about taking EVERYTHING from her is raw and cutting.

But she is not a quitter. She adjusts, she pulls her pieces together fast, she is a warrior and she stays on the right side without a question.

Then the Darkling attacked the very Grisha he was supposedly fighting for and killed half the people that Zoya had EVER KNOWN. And she still keeps fighting.

 Enter Rule of Wolves. There is SUCH DEEP IRONY in this book and the way Zoya and the Darkling’s arcs interconnect is a prime example of Leigh’s amazing writing.

The Darkling had told Zoya that they would change the world and he completely stopped paying attention to her the moment the potential of Alina’s power blinded him to anything else. And yet, when he returns Zoya has gained the kind of power that could eventually rival his own. But he STILL thinks that he should be the one to rule Ravka. He still thinks that he is the best option for the country. And once more, he criminally underestimates Zoya and overestimates himself.

Who else is vengeful and afraid of his own heart, I wonder…

Aleksander considered Zoya weak for the very same things that were his own fatal flaws.

But unlike him, Zoya SAW her flaws. The Darkling shut himself off more and more in order to save himself from pain. Zoya eventually opened up her heart to grief and pain to become the person her country needed and to embrace her power. She opened the door, when the Darkling did not manage to do so. She showed more courage than he did… and he SAW it.

Aleksander hoped to become the savior during the battle, he wished to demonstrate how only HE could save Ravka. But seeing Nikolai and Zoya defending the country is the first time it registers that there are others who are up to the task and who may be better suited than he is.

And he becomes essential in Zoya being accepted as a saint and in her rise to power partly because he wants to gain her favor but also because he finally sees all her potential, all she can achieve, how a Grisha queen of such power might give the Grisha the haven they need, when he clearly can’t.

And what is left for him to do? What does he want? He wants to serve the country he loves in a way that will affirm his sense of self-importance (he wants to offer something that no one else can) and he wants to be loved. So his new objective is to stop the blight.

The blight was created because of his own power. This man who hunted down and ruined the life of a young girl (Alina) in order to force her to be his balance, so that he could freely use his power in a very imbalanced way, finally realizes that HE is responsible for his power and that HE can be the only one to balance it and himself. So there is a new path he sees ahead of him: he can sacrifice himself to stop the blight and in the process Ravka might finally see that he always wanted to protect the country… and it might love him back. He KNOWS that he has committed crimes, he does not seek redemption, but he desired for all he has done to matter. And it can’t matter if he is not at all responsible for its country’s well-being and if everyone hates him. He has lived so many lifetimes without happiness or fulfillment and they would all have been wasted.

But he can’t achieve this by himself. This man who always thought that he could do things alone, and who took away everything Zoya had fought for, NEEDS her allowance for his centuries-long life to gain a scrap of meaning. He needs her allowance to be appreciated and loved.

I can’t be the only one who sees what a beautiful twist of fate this is.

At the same time Zoya herself understands the Darkling. She understands how anger and using power as a coping mechanism can corrupt. Knowing herself and seeing how he turned out are essential in her becoming a good ruler. He is the cautionary tale of what she could but will never allow herself to become.

When he explains his plan, she KNOWS that he’ll be in eternal pain and she has does not mind that his will be his fate. But when she sees the aftermath of his sacrifice and when she feels the kind of pain he’ll be experiencing for eternity, it leaves her shaken. She feels that pain in her own heart and this is not a fate that she wishes even on him. Genya and Alina are very much willing to let him rot but Zoya, who also believed that she could forgive him, feels that she has to.The Darkling has not redeem himself. He is doing penance. But as Genya mentions, there’s a fine line when one has to do the math of how much a person has to pay and of how much pain they have to feel before their punishment stops being just and they become victims instead. Zoya, being afraid of becoming him, knows that learning to show forgiveness is the only way forward, it’s the way for her to keep her heart open and not become the avalanche.

Zoya Nazyalensky has become everything that Aleksander Morozova, the lost boy, wished to be. Poweful, eternal, with friends, with a true partner, holding the best position a Grisha could imagine without forcing her rule and finally giving their people a true chance without comprominsing them. 

The Darkling was hoping that Alina would have been his balance. We are told how she might make him a better man and she might make him a monster.

But at the end of the day it’s Zoya who allows the Darkling to become the closest thing to decent that he can be at this point.

It’s the Darkling’s life that allows Zoya to see the lines that she will not cross and how to not become a monster.

And it’s Zoya’s ability to forgive him and her willingness to save him that becomes the backbone for the next phase of the Grishaverse, whenever Leigh decides to write it.

The way their paths entangle will always be at the core of the story.

_______________________

@myfriendscallmeraba​ I’m tagging you because you asked for it. It’s very encouraging to have someone interested in my ramblings.

[fuckthisshitimin]

The Show’s On

Part 2 here

Read on ao3

They’re pretty.

That’s all she has the time to think, really, because everything is so fast. She’s feeling hot, and her hands on the guitar are a little messier than she’d like. It’s not the first time she has a gig here, but it’s the first time she’s alone on the stage. It was hard to convince the manager that she could do it. That she had that fire in her.

It’s easier with a band. But you also get paid less. And you have to work with other people. Constantly.

Maybe they’re too young, though.

Tonight she’s on that stage with something to prove, and if by morning her voice is dead and her legs shake so much she can’t walk, it’ll be okay. She’s giving it her all, and when she looks at the room, they’re still here, so close to the stage, if they extended their arm, they could touch her legs.

That wouldn’t be so bad. Fuck, are they legal?

And she looks closer at them. At their high-waisted black pants and earrings, at the line of their collarbones disappearing into a silky shirt, at their soft-looking net, and she realizes how they stand out. She realizes why it’s so easy to notice them. They’re not dancing. Just, standing there. Looking at her with focused eyes. Unblinking, unmoving, undisturbed even when their eyes cross. She almost stutters, almost loses her rhythm. They have that unreadable expression, stern and yet alive, and they can’t have missed that she missed a note. And they smirk.

Like they have the right to do that.

Like they have the right to stand still at the very edge of the scene and judge her performance, to disturb it with a stupid cute face and a way too proper silky shirt, like they have the right to smirk at her mistakes, safe in the crowd, and fuck that judgmental coward, she thinks, with their green staring eyes and their unmoving feet, fuck them, fuck all the people that observe her, waiting for her to make a mistake, to fall.

Fuck them because she already made mistakes, and she already fell to the ground and below. Fuck them, fuck the safety they hide in.

She’ll give them what they want. She’ll crash like they expect he too, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do it with all her desecrated grace.

She smiles back, fierce and unyielding. Three songs before the end of her set. She plays harder. She can’t feel her fingers anymore, and she’s pretty sure her make up is ruined from the sweat. Fuck them all.

“I’m the Owl Lady, and my EP’s for sale at the bar, cowards!”

.

“Can I get you a drink? Maybe?”

Eda downs her second glass of water in one go, gesturing for the barmaid to give her another one.

That’s the kid from earlier. Well, now that she gets a closer look, she guesses they might be approximately her age, though they didn’t drop out of school like she did. She laughs, thanking the barmaid with a nod when her new glass of water arrives. She complimented her on her set, and the adrenaline doesn’t look like it would go away any time soon. Sitting still is a pain, but her whole body aches. She’s exhausted, really, on the verge of collapsing. Yet, she doesn’t want anything more than she wants to get back on that stage.

But she’ll have to do with drinking and dancing, and she’ll have to do without the invisible wall between her and the audience, between her and that staring bitch that dares smile again.

“Are you even old enough to drink? How did they let you in?”

“Actually, it’s my birthday. Just turned twenty-one.”

Just a one-year gap, then? Which means they aren’t technically too young for her. But they still have those unnerving staring eyes. They look like they’re trying to see what’s behind. Her secrets and her fears. She doesn’t like the curiosity, she doesn’t like the smile, either.

“What, am I supposed to wish you a happy birthday? Go fuck yourself. Cat, get me a beer.”

“On it.”

“I’m sorry, what the hell?”

Normally, just telling people off would do the trick. Eda is convincing enough, as the I-literally-bite kind of girl. But they just look positively astonished. Their mouth is open, their eyes, wide, they don’t even look mad. Their hands are hanging at their side, lifeless, and oh, here it comes. Now they look properly upset, brows furrowed and mouth closed tightly. She snickers.

“Look, kiddo, if you didn’t like my set, that’s your fucking problem, I’m not looking for any stupid constructive criticism, I don’t care about your thoughts, and since I played tonight, I get free drinks. So, yeah, go fucking fuck yourself.”

They open their mouth, momentarily at a loss of words as she smiles, and Catra snickers, too, when she opens a bottle of beer for her and puts it on the counter. The kid laughs bitterly, a weird smile on their face. And Eda thinks it’s a pity, really, that they are a jerk, for they have the cutest smile she’s seen in a while. It looks like they can kiss, like they’re starting to learn how to bite. Their eyes aren’t so dark yet.

“You really love to say fuck, don’t you?”

She shrugs, taking a sip from her beer.

“Every fucking chance I get.”

They cock their head, and she can’t help but grin wider. It’s more amusing when people answer. She would have expected them to just run away. But they stand firmly, eyes narrowing, and she swears she can see their fingers tense.

“I’ll answer in your language then. You are a real-life heartless bitch trope, and I actually came over to tell you your set was amazing, but if you’re so hung-up on playing the victim of this situation, I can play along and point out every time your voice faltered, every weakness in the way you write and play, and then tell you to go fuck yourself like you so nicely did when I just tried to have a polite conversation.”

She smiles so hard, she almost laughs. And she hears Catra, from her spot behind the bar, laugh herself, muttering something about liking this one.

“You piss me off,” she truthfully states, “you spent twenty minutes staring at me like you were plotting my demise and you have the audacity to say you liked my set? I don’t know if you lie out of pride or because you don’t want to get on my bad side, but trust me, that’s not your strong suit.”

“What, you’ve never been awestruck before? Out of everyone I heard tonight, you were the one that struck me as someone who would go places, I thought it would depend on whether your guts play for or against you. Repelling people won’t help you in this industry, but at least you’re as mean and quick to judge as the people that run it.”

She lifts her brows high on her forehead, and she has no clue how she is supposed to take this. It’s as much a compliment as it is an insult, and finally, she can’t hold back her laughter anymore, banging her fist on the counter. Gosh, she hasn’t had that much fun talking to someone in a while.

“Cat! Give them something to drink, they’re funny.”

She has to wipe a few tears, but she sees them deflate in a second. Their shoulders slump down, and their face pales, relaxes completely, blushes, and she laughs again. She gestures to them, trying to say something and failing as the laughter keeps her from forming words. They seat down on one of the stools, and it looks like all the energy they had was just drained from them.

“I don’t get it.”

She settles her breathing, letting out a few whimpers before clearing her throat, finally resting her chin on her head to look at them more steadily.

“Yeah, you don’t need to. Wait, sorry. You don’t fucking need to. I honestly don’t get it either. I rely on my guts, you see,” she grabs her boobs to demonstrate, laughing some more as she stands up, towering over them with the widest grin she can manage. “and my guts want to talk with you some more. What about you?”

They look up to her, and now that she’s so close, she can definitely make up the blush on their cheeks and ears, the drunken shining in their eyes, the uncertainty behind their smile. Fuck, they’re pretty. The kind of pretty that doesn’t last, stained with the innocence of people who have lived nicely sheltered their whole lives. Until now.

“I think my guts want to kiss you.”

They jump on their seat, like they are surprised, taken aback by their own words, and she bends forward, placing a slow kiss on their cheek. “I might be okay with that,” she hums in their ear. When she breaks away, she’s happy to see she left a red lipstick mark, and her head doddles from side to side as the exhaustion is finally catching up to her. They’re blurry, now, as they stumble up, dusting off their pants and looking around frantically.

“I-I shouldn’t have said that. I think I drank more than intended. I, uh, I’ll go home.”

She nods, containing her laugh. They are cute, too, as they shuffle through their purse to find their credit card. She knows better than forcing someone to stay and make them drink. They don’t look like they’re used to that. She’ll let them run away. It’s a bit of a waste, she thinks as she watches them disappearing in the crowd. She sighs, sitting back on her stool and downing her beer. She won’t be long either. She might dance just a bit before heading home, too. A strong hand grabs her shoulder, and she’s ready to fight the touch and snap before she sees a pair of green eyes so, so close, and, oh, she didn’t see that kiss coming, it’s hurried, it’s burning, it suddenly feels like the end of the world, and she’s left breathless when they break away, foam on their glasses, a drooly smile on their lips. She has a hard time gulping, remembering how to talk. They find their voice first, and now, she realizes she can hear their smile, so clear and warm.

“I’m a bit too drunk for my own taste, but can I see you again?”

She bites her lips, looking down at theirs. She could kiss them again. And again. And again. She doesn’t want to leave it at that. She wants to show them, she’s a better kisser than that, she can keep them up all night if they want to, she’s better when she’s in control. Fuck, she won’t let them surprise her again. No matter how good it makes her feel.

“I play at the Sugar Sugar Monday.”

They nod, and cock their head again.

“It’s going to be the longest weekend of my life.”

They walk away again, and she stares at the empty space they left for a long moment before burying her head in her arms, half chuckling. She doesn’t even know their name. Fuck. Kiss and run? That’s usually her thing. She tilts her head up when she hears Catra distinctive, mocking laugh.

“That has to be the quickest enemies to lovers I ever witnessed.”

She grumbles, getting a bit straighter in her seat. She looks at the door again. Who knows, maybe they’d come back again. She has no idea what she’d do if they appeared right now. She bites her lips, finishing her drink and starting to roll her cigarette for the way home.

“Well, you know I hate slow burns.” She never stays into someone long enough for that, too. Either she gets bored, or they deem her too much trouble for what she’s worth. Two weeks, tops. “Whatever I want, I want fast. If it has to burn, it better burn like a gas station.”

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hi there! Do you have a meta on Sara's biography but more focused on her education background?

hi, anon!

yup, here and here.

the "cliff notes" version:

since hers is a mid-september birthday, sara likely either began attending kindergarten "early" at age four (around two weeks shy of her fifth birthday) OR late at a couple of weeks before her sixth birthday (as the typical california cutoff date for kindergarten admissions is september 1st). personally, i lean more toward the earlier option, as i think it's highly likely she was probably already reading and kindergarten-ready by that age.

at some point during her elementary, middle, and/or high school years, she seems to have skipped at least two grade levels, though we don't know when or under what circumstances she did so.

however, the fact that she managed to do so is very impressive not only for the usual reasons but also considering that as a foster child, she likely moved schools/districts fairly frequently.

we know she was an advanced reader at an early age, as she reports in episode 05x21 "committed" that she read moby dick by herman melville as a fifth grader.

in episode 02x04 "bully for you," she describes herself as having been a "science nerd" in high school.

per her old cbs character biographies, sara graduated from high school as the class valedictorian at age sixteen.

shortly thereafter, she became a legally emancipated minor and left the foster care system.

at this point, she was awarded a full-ride scholarship and early admission to harvard university in cambridge, massachusetts and moved cross-country from california to attend school there.

sara most likely started her undergraduate coursework at harvard in late august or early september '88, i.e., about two or three weeks before her seventeenth birthday.

based on comments she makes in episode 01x09 "unfriendly skies," she seems to have still been at harvard in '92, which indicates that she probably took ~5 years to complete her bs there, probably because even though she was on a full-ride scholarship, she still had to work to put herself through school and build up some savings due to her unique situation as an emancipated minor with no post-graduation financial safety net otherwise.

her bs was in theoretical physics.

in real life, there is no standalone master's degree program in physics at uc berkeley—only a phd program with an optional embedded master's degree track built in—however, per her old cbs biographies, she did earn a master's degree in physics from uc berkeley (emphasis unspecified).

if one wants to try to make sense of this incongruity between fact and fiction, then one could maybe infer that she was accepted to the physics doctoral program at berkeley and completed the ma requirements before leaving school short of completing her phd (possibly due to money issues or just losing interest and diverting into law enforcement instead).

while at berkeley, sara took part in a work-study program that placed her at the san francisco coroner's office, which is the route by which she eventually found her way into the field of criminalistics after grad school.

though we don't have exact dates for her graduations from either harvard or berkeley, she was likely still pretty young at the time when she earned her master's degree (approx. 23/24 years old).

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time!

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Soon // S.B.

Request: Ahhhh!!!!! Congratulations on such an AMAZING milestone🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉!!!!!! You deserve all this and sososo much more girly. I’m glad ur being recognized for ur amazing talents 😩💓 Now for the celebration. Could I suggest: Sirius, Hogwarts, Soulmate au, fluff #13, and Misc #5 - @leahstypewriter

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

Misc 5: “Are you quoting a film at me?”

A/N: Thank you so much, lovely! Here’s your request! I hope you like! I love writing soulmate AUs and I had to go searching for one that I hadn’t done before so here we are! As always, I hope you like!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I continue to wax lyrical about the history of soulmates, hopeless romantic (reader and writer lol).

Word count: 2.3k

The magic of soulmates was first discovered centuries ago; too long ago for the story to be remembered correctly, but through the years, the general gist remains the same amongst families of witches and wizards.

From birth, a witch and wizard are paired with another witch or wizard. It would take time to find their match; it would take patience of the strongest sort, but they will meet their soulmate should good fortune befall them.

How do they know they have a soulmate?

Anything written on skin; be it a word, a quote, a doodle – it all appears on their soulmates skin. Anything other than their name. Centuries of debate and arguments over the exact reason for this decree fell over the world. In the end, the ministries and the scholars across the world threw their hands up in exasperation, declaring that the decree relating to the naming of soulmates would have to stay and the reasoning being that those making the decree were too awkward and stubborn to think of making life easier for an entire society that had to go into hiding.

For years, witches and wizards, once old enough, are able to communicate with their destined other half. The itch of a sentence being written becomes familiar; almost tolerable. Over time, they get to know their penmanship and their inner most secrets only dared scrawled onto their skin that could be hurriedly washed away if needed.

By the time the young witches and wizards in the United Kingdom have reached the age to start Hogwarts, their soulmate is already a part of them.

Now it was just trying to whittle down the student population of the school to discover who exactly was your appointed other half from birth.

---------

Most soulmate matches at Hogwarts are made in the months April to July – it’s when the weather starts to warm up; becoming bearable enough for the short sleeved blouses and shirts to be dug out from the very bottom of trunks.

Arms are on display for most of the day. It means that matches are made in the corridor, in the classrooms, in the Great Hall. Everywhere across the castle matches are made.

It’s wonderful, it is. But it also makes you more impatient.

You’re in the library when another match is made. Madame Pince tries her hardest to hush the new match into some level of quiet, but it does no good and thankfully, she evicts them from the library and the hush soon falls back over the great room with the same sense of a comforting blanket.

Rolling the sleeve of your cardigan up, you delicately write, “I’ve just seen the third match made of the day and it’s not even noon.”

It doesn’t take long for your soulmate to reply, “I’ve seen two so far. Where was your third?”

“The library.”

“I bet Pince was thrilled.”

You snort at their reply; amused at how well they know the school’s librarian.

“When is it going to be our turn?” You ask somewhat hesitantly.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes all the same in the elegant script you’ve come to know, “Soon.”

You rag your sleeve back down in frustration, repressing the building groan. You didn’t know your soulmate’s name, but you had given him the nickname of ‘aloof’. He had gone to great personal care to not reveal too much about himself other than the fact that he was male, he went to Hogwarts and he was your age.

That was something at least, but your countless attempts to find out more had been rebuffed. When you asked why, he simply answered that he wanted to leave as much as he could a surprise. You understood that, but the curiosity got to you.

You sigh heavily returning to the homework laid in front of you, but your mind continues to play the realisation that had happened only moments ago. The happiness on their faces; their utter elation tied in with the adoration they already felt for the other.

It was hard, you realise, to be in love with someone you’ve only spoken to through words and doodles on your arm.

-----

The week doesn’t get any easier; the weather only turns warmer, so the outer robes are ditched completely. You leave the Great Hall the morning Lily Evans realised she had been talking to James Potter since she was a child. You couldn’t watch it and still feel the same empty feeling that had settled within you so long ago.

Your friend June and her boyfriend follow you from the Great Hall. They find you facing one of the many tapestries that depict the meeting of soulmates; they’re found all over the castle and each one feels like a dagger to the stomach.

“It’ll happen soon,” June comforts, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Soon! Soon! That’s all he says,” You explode. Then you repeat in a quieter voice, “That’s all he says. He’s here and he’s close and all he says is soon. What if he doesn’t want to meet me, June?”

June tuts, “Then he’s a damn fool. However, he does want to meet you. He replies doesn’t he?”

You nod your head, but her words do nothing to comfort the growing sense of dread within you.

It was rare, but the soulmate bond could be rejected. There were those in the wizarding world who were born without a soulmate, but there were also those who simply didn’t want one, so they never replied to their partner’s pleading. Instead, they chose to ignore every word, every plea, every beg. For the bond to be accepted, the first reply is important. If words are never painted on your skin, the bond is rejected.

For not the first time that day, you sigh, “I know we have forever to know each other, but is it so wrong of me to want that to start now?”

June squeezes your shoulder, “It’s not wrong at all.”

You continue to stare at the tapestry a little while longer after June and her boyfriend depart; the depiction of soulmates shown in the quill being held by both parties.

Running a hand through your hair, you turn your back on the portrayal of true love, your mind focused on how long it would be until you experience something of the same magnitude.

-----

The day after James and Lily have their realisations, you find Sirius Black’s eyes on you at breakfast. When you meet eyes, he smiles at you, raising his hand in wave. You smile back politely, waving back awkwardly before shaking your head and returning to your breakfast and the latest letter from your brother and his new wife.

They had settled well into their new house; they loved their wedding present, thank you; and yes, you were to have a niece or nephew by the end of the year.

Wonderful.

Shoving the letter from your brother into your bag with more force than what is needed, you feel someone standing next to you. Looking up you meet the grey eyes of Sirius Black; he smiles down at you, “Are you okay?”

You fix him with a puzzled look, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs, “You were frowning so big I noticed it from down the table. I thought I would come see if you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me though.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t offer to fill the void, so the silence sits between you as heavy as a rock.

You stand from the bench; throwing your bag onto your shoulder, “Thanks again, Sirius. I’ll see you later.”

Sirius shifts out of your way, clearing the path for you, “My pleasure. I’ll see you later.”

You shake your head as you walk away; the encounter being an odd one given that your social circle didn’t tend to include any of the Marauders. But there was something about his final words; something about the way he uttered them that made them sound as if they were a promise to you.

You rush the thought from your mind; refusing to let yourself being occupied by someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

---

Sirius begins to take more notice in you; he starts to strike up small conversations whenever he can as well as numerous attempts to catch your eye at any meal time.

He starts to take up a lot of your time; sitting with you in the library on the rare occasion, but also joining you in class when the other Marauders are occupied with other pursuits.

It’s odd.

Muggle Studies remains one of the few lessons that hasn’t been interrupted with the growing number of soulmate matches in your year. Arguably, this school year could be the one with the most matches – the final year of Hogwarts; that final rush to find the love of your life before being sent out into the whole wizarding world without that safety net of the school to fall back onto.

The longer the professor drones on, the harder you find it to focus your concentration. The professor paces the front of the classroom, explaining their brief overview of what they hope the next few lessons will shape up to be like, but your attention is shot. It flickers between the marauder who has, for some reason, taken an interest in you and your soulmate, who still won’t reveal any more information about themselves or when you’ll be meeting.

A headache is close to blooming behind your eyes at the stress of it all.

Shrugging off your cardigan, you dip your quill into the pot of black ink sat in its holder. With the practiced precision of someone used to drawing on themselves, you begin to doodle.

Stars, planets, and moons appear on your left arm – decorating the inner forearm with an entire galaxy. They’re pretty rudimentary drawings, but it’s enough to keep you occupied from the droll being spewed by the professor who definitely hasn’t noticed they’ve lost the attention of most of the class.

The bell rings; finally signally the start of your only free period of the day. With a grateful sigh, you drop your books into your bag and make your way to the library.

You never make it to the library. On your way there, a hand grabs the back of your robes, pulling you into an empty corridor. With an angry shout, you face your kidnapper, “Sirius!”

He lets out an amused laugh at your affronted expression, “I’m sorry, I just needed to talk to you in private.”

You exhale, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder, “Sirius, I have to know. Why are you paying me so much attention? Surely you have a soulmate to think of.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Really?”

Sirius nods. He takes a deep breath before saying, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

“Are you quoting a film at me?” You ask; an eyebrow raised.

Sirius shakes his head, repressing a laugh. He rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing his left arm to you where decorating his inner forearm are the very same stars, planets and moons that you had doodled instead of focusing on the classwork.

Instead of saying anything, you roll your own sleeve up, lining your arm up beside Sirius’ where the patterns match perfectly.

It seemed that his attempts at conversation and his watching you from a distance was for a purpose.

Sirius Black is your soulmate.

“Oh…” You whisper.

“I told you we would meet soon,” Sirius whispers; a sight teasing lilt to his voice.

You shake your head, “I kept thinking you didn’t want to meet me; that you didn’t want a soulmate.”

Sirius grips both of your hands, “The complete opposite. I just needed to work up the nerve to find you.”

“When did you know?”

“Not that long ago. When James and Lily got together.”

You nod your head; remembering the day well.

“I overheard you talking to your friend when I was on my way to a lesson and you kept talking about how your soulmate kept promising you soon. And I realised that that was all I was saying to mine. Soon.”

You look down at your joined hands, “I never even had an inkling it was you.”

Sirius chuckles, “I suppose that should be flattering. I must be that good at concealing information, I should be a spy.”

You roll your eyes, “It almost drove me mad is what you mean.”

“Well we have a long time to get to know each other now,” He murmurs; voice soft and filled with promise for the future.

You smile shyly at the long-haired teenager, “We do?”

He nods, “Yeah, we do.”

Tentatively, you take a step closer to the long-haired Marauder. A small smile graces Sirius’ face as he takes in your movement. With a tug of his hands, you fall into him – an arm clasping itself around your waist, pressing you to him.

Sirius’ hand caresses your cheek; you lean into the touch, wondering if this is how every match felt when they found their soulmate or whether this was entirely Sirius’ effect on you. Either way, it was addicting… and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

Finally though, after what feels like a lifetime of staring into each other’s eyes, Sirius dips his head to kiss you. You meet him halfway; the desire you feel for him controlling your every move. His grip on your waist tightens and your arms wind their way around his neck, holding him to you. This kiss is what breaks the dam; from the lightest pressure of his lips, long buried emotions bubble up to the surface and it’s all you can do to keep yourself in control.

Sirius breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t retreat far. He beams down at you; eyes bright with elation. It’s a smile that you return and more; happy to have found your soulmate, happy to know who he is and that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Happy to know that soon is now.

*******

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