#i have a theory about faded pinks and faded blues too of my own a few others

[mariska]

bestie and i have an extremely important disney princess tv movie viewing we've been planning to do all summer today....we're going deep dive mode babey im talking notebooks im talking second watch through being the director's commentary on my dvd copy......

[sleuth2k7]

Visualizing the Building Theory using BBC Sherlock

@amateur-deductions recently did a post on the Building Theory. In his words:

[The Building Theory] serves as a wonderful way to illustrate how much a deduction is a progressive process, with multiple little steps between observations and conclusions. It's also an amazing tool to analyze other people's deductions and break them down in a way that allows you to map out their trains of thought and learn from them

He provides an excellent explanation of how the theory works: basically, you think of the process of deducing as constructing a building, with observations and subsequent deductions representing bricks that are stacked on top of one another, building up to more complex deductions based on those original observations & deductions.

I’ve always liked this theory because it makes the process of deduction more tangible and visual, which helps me learn, and I know others like to use visuals to learn too.

I’ve mapped out deductions from BBC Sherlock before, so I thought sharing that here would help provide a visual supplement to @amateur-deductions​‘ work.

When Sherlock and John first meet, Sherlock asks: “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

You can watch the scene where he asks that here. And the scene where he explains how he got to that here.

While the show provides a decent verbal breakdown of how Sherlock got to that question, we can also visualize his process like this:

blue: observations // green: deductions made from observations // pink: deductions made from prior deductions & observations (level 1) // yellow: deductions made from prior deductions (level 2)

As you can see, Sherlock uses his initial observations about John to make deductions, and then uses those deductions to make additional deductions. All of this culminates in him asking John “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

Let’s break down this process a bit. We can think of this building as being made up of a bottom floor, and then two supporting sides that work together to build onto that bottom floor and also support the roof placed on top. 

First, the bottom floor:

When John enters the room, Sherlock looks up at him and makes four observations about him, which he uses to make two deductions.

1. stance + haircut = military

** Sherlock knows that these observations = military from knowledge he has about the appearance/behavior of people in the military.

2. looks around the room + says “bit different from my day” = medically trained at Bart’s Hospital

** Here Sherlock uses a combination of knowledge and logic. He knows that Bart’s Hospital is a well-known training hospital and if John is familiar with the lab that the pair are standing in (as opposed to a patient room), he must have been a student there.

Sherlock then takes those two deductions and combines them to create another: military + medically trained = army doctor. That deduction forms the base of the rest of the building.

Next, there are two supporting sides. Let’s call them the “limp” side and “tan” side, as those are the two observations that form the base of each.

First, the limp:

Sherlock begins with several observations: 

1. has a limp and uses a cane.

2. does not ask for a chair to sit in.

** Knowledge: Sherlock knows that people with limps may look for or ask for somewhere to sit.

From this, Sherlock deduces that John:

1. forgets he has the limp.

2. Why? Because the limp is psychosomatic.

** Knowledge: Sherlock knows about psychosomatic injuries.

3. Which means that trauma caused the limp.

Second, the tan:

Again, Sherlock begins with two observations, and each have their own subsequent deduction.

1. has a tan. = was recently in a sunny place.

** Knowledge: Sherlock knows that people get a tan from being in the sun, and that tans fade over time.

2. only has a tan on his hands and face. = was in a sunny place while wearing long sleeves, so he was not on vacation or sunbathing, but was on business.

** Knowledge: Sherlock knows that when people go on vacation to a sunny location, it is not typical to wear long sleeves or professional clothing but rather dress casual (shorts and a t-shirt, swimsuits, etc.).

Here is where Sherlock’s process culminates into the question. Relying on the deduction that John is an army doctor, and combining that deduction with these two new deductions (1) has a limp from trauma, and (2) was recently in a sunny place for business/work, Sherlock makes this final deduction: John is an army doctor who was recently in a war zone near the tropics. 

He cannot go further than this though, as there are a few locations that fit that description. So, Sherlock engages in order to get the information he needs: “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

~

I hope this provided a helpful visual example of the Building Theory - if anybody has any questions or wants me to go into more detail on any aspect of this example, please ask!

[lostlovepunk]

since some people are actually interested, i will do it:

hair dyes and alex' most educated opinion of them

(all pictures are photos of the hair dye in question, i am unfortunately not in a condition to describe them better for now)

1.

sante's plant based hair dye in black

disappointing. i can't read apparently because i noticed too late that it was for dark brown till i was home and opened it. smelled like herbal tea. my mum used to use this when i was a kid and i nearly threw up from the smell. i didn't put it in my hair. 3/10

2.

syoss' blueish black

does what it promises. no way to control the portion sizes, so i always had to throw away about half of the bottle because i didn't need thatuch for my short hair. the smell is trying and failing to kill your respiratory tract. the hair has a nice shimmer in the sunlight, and it doesn't fade. easy to apply. 7/10

3.

manic panic's 30 volume bleach kit (i know this isn't a hair dye technically)

the only bleach i bothered to remember the ne of that didn't come industry sized packages. it starts to burn slightly at around minute 15, increases the burning for about 10 minutes and then stays at that level. not nice,but could be worse. all five of my hair dye brushes come from those kits. there's also a plastic bowl that's completely useless inside. my hair went from black to a reddish white-blond in about 45 minutes. is a bit more successful in its attacks on your lungs. 6/10

4.

manic panic's electric lizard

i might be biased but this is the best color you could put in your hair. you're easy to find, it's slightly fluorescent and it won't clash with anyone's skin tone. it works in combination with black (hey ecoanarchist flag) or on its own (enough to make anti-flag decide to ask you to model for their instagram story). i need to redye after about 4 weeks of normal inside/outside behaviour, or two weeks of festival, but i can't recommend it enough for festivals. you'll never lose your group again and look fabulous. also it smells only very faintly, and you're hands are more or less clean if you wash them fast enough. 10/10

5.

manic panic's atomic turquoise

a bit more blue in the beginning than i hoped for (neon green was sold out so i bought this as a second best). went more in a green direction as it faded. the assistant manager at the edeka i worked at told me it was the best hair colour i ever had. i disagree, it made me look a bit like i'd support a cdu/afd coalition. also the nazi security guy there liked it. also the colour is more or less impossible to get out by bleaching and dying it another color. redye after 6-8 weeks. 8/10

6.

headshot's toxic absinth

green in theory, turquoise in praxis. it gets more blue with every time you wash your hair, so if you wanna keep a deep forest green, never wash it again. it doesn't do well against residues of the aforementioned turquoise, and only stayed green for a week at most. it will look cool, but not how you want it. also kinda boring on its own, looks better with a few light streaks (or purple). 5/10

7.

manic panic's mystic heather

if you wanna look like the joker with a mohawk for two weeks, follow these steps:

1. have mohawk

2. split dye with black involved

3. decide you want more color but worry about green and red clashing as the black leaves a bit of red when bleached

4. order two hair dyes from manic panic

5. get half your money back, they don't have dark green anymore

6. bleach everything and put this over the formerly black side

7. enjoy

it looked great for 1.5 weeks and then streaks began to go mouse brown. too much redying to be worth it. 6/10

8.

manic panic's cotton candy pink

this wasn't in my hair but my partners. feels nice on the hands, doesn't smell bad, but your hair needs to be really fucking light to have this work. their hair was orangey before and salmon coloured after. this salmon color left us soon after, too, and it became an orangey yellow. wasn't my hair tho and they liked the colour, so 7/10

soon to be added: voodoo forest by manic panic

[luce-723]

Today we had another group crit / 5 minute presentation with 5 minutes of questions and feedback from the rest of the group. I presented where I am up to and where my work is going, along with what my thesis proposal is currently looking like. I made notes during the 5 minutes of feedback which is shown in the image above. Miro is a platform that Leon uses which basically an infinite brainstorming programme where you can make flow charts or mind maps etc. I made a note of it because I thought it was really interesting and it might be something I look into using in the future.

Light - Janie suggested I experiment with light and projections to go alongside my weavings and stitched canvases. I want to explore colour theory and colour psychology so she suggested I explore projecting light onto white weavings. This way I would be able to play with different colours from one weave and see how it makes me feel. The Baker-Miller Pink study was seen to have effects within only 15 minutes so it would be interesting to see how quickly my emotions changed, well, how or if they even changed after looking after a weaving projected in blue for example.

Haywood Exhibition - Karen mentioned the Haywood exhibition that is currently on in London and suggested that I go down to see it myself. She showed images of some of the installations which had bright LED type lights that faded from pink to purple, it created a full immersive experience whilst looking at the sculptural art in the centre of the room. I am going down to see my sister-in-law at the end of March who lives in Windsor, so all being well, we might travel into London to see some exhibitions.

Pink Noise - Jake and Molly both mentioned me looking at pink noise. I have already heard of this concept after reading about Vollebak’s hoodie as it has a built in soundtrack of pink noise. Pink noise is commonly used to help with sleep, it is similar to white noise - a continuous hum which can be calming as it blocks out background noise.

Colour Psychology - again I was encouraged to look into colour psychology and I am going to after my holiday using Google scholar and wider reading books.

Anish Kapoor - Cam said I should look into Anish Kapoor’s online art war. From what Cam explained, it was a ‘Vantablack Controversy’ as many people thought he was stealing from the art community by buying rights to Vantablack.

My Question - at the end of my presentation, Karen said I need to condense my overall question because it is too broad. I knew this but I didn’t want to limit myself too much with only Baker-Miller Pink as the subject, this is because I feel it would be more difficult to conduct my own experiments as it is harder to source that exact shade of pink in textiles. I could probably get personalised yarn or thread however, I can imagine that it would be very costly to get it made and I am not in the financial place. I am now thinking about ways in which I can condense this question so it is not as broad but so it is still interesting with room to investigate and complete wider reading.

[elizabethemerald]

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head. 

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat. 

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there. 

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies. 

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus. 

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch. 

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would. 

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so. 

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha. 

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek. 

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark. 

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical. 

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together. 

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms. 

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so. 

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall. 

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count. 

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!” 

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face. 

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir. 

Beau took her turn to smirk. 

“I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles. 

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed. 

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer. 

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together. 

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.” 

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later. 

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands. 

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond. 

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself. 

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Thoughts on the costuming of Bad Buddy (a thread*)

Episode 4:

We’re back to colour this episode...and many of them too!

Right off the bat, Pat has a red t-shirt under his white shirt whilst the two friend groups are negotiating the bus stop build. Then we have a series of stairwell conversations starting with Pat in a red top and Pran in black and white, then they’re both in green when Pat spoils the plan (my theory is that green=bad remember), then they’re back to their own colours. Incidentally, Pran’s “Friend/Unfriend” t-shirt makes an appearance in these early scenes, which Pat will wear later.

Just before we meet Ink, we see Pran in a teal coat - is it blue (ie. a good sign?) or green (ie, bad?). (And an architecture friend, Louis, is finally in blue! More on that below!)

Ink, not being part of a love triangle with them (we now know after episode 5), is in an orange/brown coat when she first appears. And in her café meeting with Pat, she has a plaid shirt with red and green - another sign she’s not there for Pat, I think. The green indicates she’s currently a small obstacle between Pran and Pat getting together and the red because she ‘on Pran’s side’ in terms of who Pat should be with.

However, during the photoshoot Pat has a white shirt with a print which has a faded colour similar to Ink’s top...maybe representing his (we now know) fading feelings for her.

Now this is my favourite one! (And I wrote a whole other post about just this shirt!) After the photoshoot, Pat changes into a black shirt with a design which has both the faded colour of Ink’s top and the light blue of Pran’s when he goes to his dorm. Who does he really have feelings for? Does he know yet? 😏

For the rugby match, Ink is back to yellow (neither Pat or Pran’s colours), Pat wears red, and Pran has green (uh oh! a warning of difficulties ahead? I’m leaning more and more on my theory that green indicates something negative...)

Incidentally, Pran’s rugby shoe has both blue and red on.

And that final scene, the one where Pran is drowning in a sea of blue wearing his pink “Respect” t-shirt again whilst Pat floats on a bed of red/coral in Pran’s olive green “Friend/Unfriend” t-shirt. Had I done these episode analyses before the end of this episode, I would have guessed that the ending would be an unhappy one since Pat is in olive green...

Other points to note:

The architecture friends have stared to wear blue this episode! (Remember, it was just the engineering group that incorporated the other group’s red into their blue clothes last episode). First Wai has a blue t-shirt under his red architecture coat! (And right after a scene with Korn wearing a blue t-shirt no less!). And then Mo wears a blue shirt (in the photo above) when Ink appears.

Green clothing in general. Lastly, to add to my green=bad theory, Safe is wearing a green top when Pran tackles him and gets injured. Need I say more at this point?

[Ep 1] [Ep 2] [Ep 3] [Ep 5] [Ep 6] [Ep 7] [Ep 8] [Ep 9] [Ep 10] [Ep 11] [Ep 12]

[blush-and-books]

The End of Julie and the Phantoms - A [very long] Theory

The core of this theory was inspired by many posts that I have seen saying that Julie’s “everything was a dream” shirt may have insinuated that nothing happening on the show is actually reality. I brought my series finale pitch to my dear friend @willexx who then helped me develop this headcanon into something I cried about during lunch. 

It starts out pretty heavy, but there are some little light things here and there because it’s what the himbos would have wanted.

We start here:

In the last episode, the boys are ready too cross over. It’s an emotional moment for everyone, they’re crying, Julie is sobbing, and we as an audience have definitely seen better days. With one last “we love you, Julie,” a flash of light overtakes the garage space, blinding our screens. 

The scene flashes to Julie lying in bed, waking up from her ringing alarm. 

She is visibly confused, clearly wondering how she got to bed when the last thing that she remembers is the boys’ painful departure. When she reaches for her phone to turn off her alarm -- it’s a school day -- she quickly notices the date:

It’s the same day in 2020 that she met the boys, that she was going to clean out her mom’s garage, and that she had to perform to keep her spot in the music program. 

So, none of it was real?

Not exactly. 

The experience was a sort of dream-like saga that was designed for her to be able to grieve on her own, and rediscover her voice in her own way. But just as the panic sets in that it was a complete figment of her imagination, the feeling of cold metal on her left hand becomes too hard to ignore: One of Luke’s rings. 

Reggie’s leather jacket is hanging in her closet.

Alex’s fanny pack is slung across the back of a chair. 

But when she runs downstairs, clad in her dinosaur slippers, rushing to the garage to see if the guys were there -- they aren’t. They have crossed over. 

As she moves through the day, she’s a new Julie, but everything else is the same. Instead of a baseball cap and low ponytail, Julie throws on her black jeans and Reggie’s leather and lets her hair run wild. She’s displaying a confidence that Flynn hasn’t seen in a long time, that seemed to have hit Julie overnight. 

Julie sings Wake Up in music, and keeps her spot in the program. She doesn’t oogle Nick in the halls and she tells Carrie off when there’s an attempt at an insult made. 

Real or not, the boys helped her. They did their job. 

When she gets home, and Ray irks her about cleaning the garage or selling the house, she is quick to insist that she doesn’t want to move and that if he needs her for the rest of the night, she’ll be in her mother’s studio.

There aren’t any instruments except for the piano, and the space has the original layer of dust that it had before her and the guys started using the space again. Julie feels empty. But she reminds herself that the ring on her finger is real, extremely real, so she retraces her steps that she had taken in the first episode and tracks down the Sunset Curve demo CD, puts it in the stereo, and plays it. 

Nothing happens. Or, at least -- nothing that she could see.

The camera pans up as Julie is hard at work to organize the garage, and we see the boys in the chairs on the ceiling, watching over her fondly. 

~This is where @willexx started to throw in some epic ideas~

The boys are real, and they have crossed over, which renders Julie unable to see them. However, in her reset reality without them, no one remembers Julie and the Phantoms or the fact that the boys existed in the first place. The boys, while she can’t see them, visit her and try to make contact with her as much as they can, even though their times with her are limited since they are supposed to be on the other side.

She’ll feel a ghost of a touch on her hand or her hair, and know that Luke is there. When she’s in the car and the radio is on a country station, she knows that it’s Reggie. In a journal for school, a small “okay” will be written in the corner of a page, and it is Alex. These little notes keep her going, and she’ll just sigh and say “my boys,” and leave everyone around her confused. 

Sometimes, when she wakes up in the morning, the demo tape can be heard playing in the garage. Somehow she’ll get filled with hope that if she runs into the garage, the boys will be there rocking out without her like she used to scold them for left and right -- but no one is there. Ray comments that the stereo is broken and Julie has no choice but to nod along. 

One day she finds Luke’s songbook that had been buried in the plastic garbage bags of the boys’ belongings. She still brings Unsaid Emily to his parents, and she cries herself to sleep that night. 

When Julie blows up as a solo artist, she actually records Unsaid Emily, and she records Bright, and all of the other songs that her and Luke wrote together. Luke Patterson is in the writing credits for many of the songs, where Trevor never bothered to list him, and a part of Luke is at piece. 

On the two year anniversary of Rose’s passing, Julie finds Luke’s “angst flannel.” Ray asks where she got it; she tells him a thrift store. But it feels warm, like all of the guys are there, hugging her. 

Another morning, she could swear that Luke and Reggie are strumming out Flying Solo on level one volume, and once again finds herself darting to the garage with no good excuse except to keep her hopes up. They, unsurprisingly, aren’t there -- but a note is, that says “you’re a star, Jules. We love you.”

The handwriting is messy. She knows it’s from Luke, who probably fought the boys to even write the note because he just wanted to talk to her even though they need to move on and his handwriting is awful. The note gets tucked into the pocket of the flannel, and when she needs to be reminded that she’ll be okay, she pulls it out of the pocket and holds it tight. 

Before every show, she reads the note, and mumbles a little prayer to them wherever they are -- even if no one else believes they are real. 

When Luke’s flannel starts to lose it’s original sweet scent of Emily and Mitch’s house, Julie spends an hour crying on the floor of her bathroom. A faded orange beanie appears in her room the next day. 

Little notes from Luke appear here and there, but never from any of the guys. In the shadows where she can’t see them, Alex tells Luke that in order for both themselves and Julie to move on, Luke needs to stop leaving her notes -- so most of the ones that Julie finds are even more messy than usual, like Luke was trying to write them without the guys noticing. 

During one of their forbidden conversations, Julie says to Luke: “hey, I never told you this before... But I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what I would do without knowing that you guys were still around. I think I would have lost my mind, and would have been convinced that I went crazy.”

Luke could have ran to Alex, repeated Julie’s tearful words, and given the drummer a fat “I told you so.” But he doesn’t. Julie’s validation is the only validation that he needs. 

Whenever her and Carlos and Ray make an extra seat at their dinner table for Rose, Julie imagines, deep in her mind, that it is for Reggie too. Reggie deserved a seat at their table; deserved to be a part of their family. A family that would have loved him.  And when a fork falls off of the table, Julie knows he’s there. One day, Julie asks Ray how he would have felt about having another son. He responds confused, and Julie gets tears in her eyes, and neither of them bring it up again.

When Julie and Flynn go to Pride together, Julie wears Alex’s fanny pack even though she hadn’t gotten any signs from him since they had all moved on. He still doesn’t reach out afterwards, too overwhelmed by her gesture to think of a way to properly extend his gratitude and love for the girl who is keeping his spirit alive -- but Luke lets her know that he was grateful. 

Luke still visits Julie like he visits Emily and Mitch. And on Luke’s birthday every year, Julie goes to a little bakery after school and buys herself a cupcake; sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night to light a candle and sing happy birthday. When she lights the candle, the candle gets blown out. Every year after that first year, she gets candles that you have to turn on and off so that Luke can’t ruin the moment. 

(He ends up throwing the fake candle on the ground out of retaliation.)

Julie is so emotionally stable for the most part that the complete change is a shock to Ray. He tries to ask her what happened, but she always acts like nothing happened and then hides in her room for hours. Sometimes, she makes random little comments out of the blew and Ray has many conversations with Victoria on whether or not he should have Julie seeing Dr. Turner again. 

At her first solo concert, Julie walks into the dressing room to find “Stand Tall” written three times, in three different handwriting styles, in red, pink, and blue. The message in blue is the messiest by far, and is followed up with a heart. 

The name of Julie’s first album is Phantoms. 

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 4: An Invitation

A Loki fanfiction!

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Full Chapter List

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“You’re late!” Valkyrie said, stuffing a pancake into her mouth as you approached her table in the Great Hall. “And you look like shit.”

You could feel the papery dryness of your eyes. Each blink felt grating. “I didn’t have a great sleep…” you said, hoping that your face did not give away the perpetual embarrassment you felt every time you thought about what happened the night before.

“Was it the dream again?” Valkyrie said, handing you a plate she filled with hash browns and eggs.

You took it gratefully. “No, I...went to the restricted section of the library last night,” you said, looking down at your plate. An image of Professor Laufeyson’s bare chest flashed before your eyes and you nearly dropped your fork.

“What!” She spoke so loud that several of the people surrounding you and at the other tables glanced at you both.

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud,” you whispered.

“You went without me,” she said, stuffing a mushroom into her mouth.

“It couldn’t wait, but I didn’t even find what I was looking for,” you said.

“And what was that?”

You were about to speak when you saw Professor Laufeyson enter the Great Hall. You nearly choked on your hash browns when he glanced at you. “I have to go,” you said and ran out of the hall.

You did not look back, and you did not stop walking until you realized you were back at the library. Your subconscious seemed to have a sense of humour that you did not find particularly funny. As you stood at the door like a deer in the headlights, someone nearly body checked you to the side as they entered the library.

“Out of the way, mudblood,” he said. His blue hair was striking in the daylight.

“Watch it, Talon,” you said.

He turned to you with a glare, then he smiled coldly and walked on.

You nearly rolled your eyes straight to the back of your head. Talon, the one person you would not mind using one or two of the unforgivable curses on. Just a bit of the Imperious to make him wet his pants in class, maybe? Nothing too awful. You still remember the way he laughed when he stuffed you and one other student into a Shrinking Shed in a pawnshop in Knockturn Alley. It was only your second year, and you berated yourself for trusting any wizard that said they “had something cool to show you” since that day. The poor boy you were stuck with broke his arm and may have broken the other, lest Professor Heimdall had not come by the shop; by that time the shed was half the size of a fridge. You still hated confined spaces from that day onwards.

He walked towards a blonde Slytherin girl trying to finish her homework at a large table. She looked less than pleased at his interruption. You rolled your eyes and moved on.

Your thoughts drifted back to the previous night as you headed to the back of the library. And just like that, it transported you into a completely different head space. Professor Laufeyson. You thought about his smooth skin and the way the moonlight glinted off the sweat on his body.

Thinking of him like that put you in a sort of daze, where you were so embarrassed you thought you might die but also so intrigued that you could not stop yourself from wondering. You paused where you were and gazed at the restricted section. From there, you could see the table where he had...relations with Professor Sif. You remembered her panting and writhing in pleasure. The entire night you had thought about only one thing. What did that feel like?

You knew how your own fingers felt, and despite how wonderful that was, you had always been curious about something more. Valkyrie had described it to you in visceral detail several times. She had said that if the person knew what they were doing, that it could be amazing. Higher than high. But if the person only cared about themselves, it could be quite awful. From the looks of it, Professor Laufeyson knew what he was doing.

Something about him felt different. Enticing. The way his lean muscles flexed as he gripped the edges of the table and the way his eyes glowed. Heat coursed through you, and the muscles in your stomach tightened. You had not been this bothered in all your life and had a fleeting thought of whether there was a way to quit Potions class. You rubbed your eyes and face. The book. That was what you came here for.

“Are you alright?” A sweet voice said.

You opened your eyes; it was Pom. She was carrying four large textbooks and placed them on a study table between the aisles.

Putting on your most convincing smile, you said, “I’m fine, I was just looking for a book.”

“Oh? What one?” she said, her eyes lit up.

Pom did frequent the library. Perhaps she could be of use. “It’s about cats, common spells for cats.”

She gave you a look.

“No, I’m serious! I just really love cats,” you said. It was not a lie, though you preferred reptiles.

“Well, where is it supposed to be?”

You thought about how to put it. “Well, that’s the thing. I was informed that it would be in one place, but it’s no longer there. And I don’t think anyone checked it out.”

Pom thought about it for a moment. Then her eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s a switcher!”

“Switcher?”

She nodded with an excited smile. “I’ve only ever encountered one of them. But there was once a book that my brother and I were looking for. I heard it was the journal of a student who created their own spells. And I think we found it, but right before Ken could pick it up from the shelf, it faded and disappeared. About two months later, I saw it again, on the other side of the library. I reached for it, but it disappeared. I talked to one of our senior prefects and she told me there’s a rumour about books in the library. Apparently, some of them like to disappear and reappear. Nobody knows how to catch them, but there’s a theory that they’ll come to you if you need them.”

You raised your eyebrows at the thought of disappearing books. Of course the book you needed to find was evading you. “So if I need it badly enough...I might find it?” You said.

Pom nodded with an unsure smile. You thanked her as she picked up her pile of books and wandered off to study.

A bright pink guide on potions stood out as you looked at the shelves. Flora and Fawna for Beginners. You sighed. This was going to be a long day.

So you roamed. You roamed the bookshelves for hours, reading every title, every author name and every little scroll in the cabinets. It was tedious beyond belief and you stopped to rest a few times. After your third hour of wandering the library and receiving strange looks from the students you passed by for the thirtieth time, you sighed and sat right on the floor, in between the Magical Creatures and Astrocentric Religions sections. Your stomach rumbled from hunger and you wondered if it was time to give up yet. So much for your investigation. It felt quite less glamorous when you were at the start of it and all you could muster up was sitting on your bottom with an empty stomach and dry hands.

You looked out the window at the end of the aisle; the day was overcast again. It has been raining non stop this season. You got up, defeated, and ready to find some food. Suddenly, there was a sharp bang on the window and you turned to see what it was. A dark smudge was streaked across the glass and you walked up to it for a closer look. You nearly jumped a foot in the air when another bird flew into the window. It fell and you could not see where it landed, but you wondered if it was dead.

A few more birds banged into the windows, and other students got up from their chairs to see the disturbance. One girl gasped so loudly that the librarian had to come over and calm everyone down. The librarian looked at the windows and grumbled to herself as she went out to inform someone of the mess.

You walked across the aisles to observe the other windows, and each one was streaked with a dark red stain. As you walked by the first year selection of books near the front of the library, you noticed in the corner, on the bottom shelf there was a new title. Something you had not noticed before. The spine was dark red and your eyes widened at the title “Spells for the Common House Cat”.

Nearly diving for the book, you crouched down and grabbed it, thinking it would disappear right before your eyes. But, you held it in your hands and yelled out a “yes!” This earned you a shush from the students who were studying.

You were so elated to read the book once you returned to the common room that you nearly ran into the door as you exited the library. It was already an hour past dinner at the Great Hall; you imagined Valkyrie had stuffed her face full already and probably wondered where you were. You picked up your pace and raced through the halls with meat pies on your mind and the book in your hands. The texture was of a smooth aged leather, with odd scratches along the spine and cover. The writing on the cover was a rushed scrawl with black ink and you flipped through the inside, only to see pages and pages of the same hurried writing. There was one passage that caught your eye:

Informed though we may be of my house we are not warned to eat live snakes. Wish you well my balloon animal friend. Did you know hats wore cow bells on their noses? Bells bells bells! Nasty business wandering through the dry sun. If there is one watered down lion to know, it’s Muriel and her tacky shoes.

You were so perplexed you said aloud, “What the fu-”

A hard body stopped your momentum, and you fell right on your rear onto the floor. The book fell out of your hands and you rubbed your nose where it was bumped. “I’m so sorry, I-” You looked up and your mouth went dry.

Professor Laufeyson was standing above you, with your book in his hand, and his eyebrows slightly raised. You saw the recognition in his gaze as he assessed you and a whisper of a smile appeared on his lips; it disappeared again into his usual stoic expression. You remained on the floor and stared at him for several seconds, as if you were paralyzed.

He reached down and helped you up. “We keep bumping into one another, don’t we, Miss Eves?” He said, throwing you a smile that almost knocked you down again.

“Y-yes, I suppose so.”

He handed you the book, glancing at the title. “Interesting literature, is it for your classes or for pleasure?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Just for fun.”

“Ah, and is this a title you found in your evening forays into the library?” He said, leaning close so you could see the flecks of lighter blue in his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat. He knew. He knew. Oh god. He knew. Your mind made a split second decision.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” you said, gripping the book tightly against your body.

Professor Laufeyson chuckled and leaned against the wall, further away from you. You breathed a little easier. “It seems that a student has been out of bed and has seen things she should not have,” he said, crossing his arms. His eyes looked down at you with a mocking sort of sternness. “It could lead to expulsion…”

You held his hard gaze, not denying anything but not giving in. It seemed he was testing you, checking your resolve. You took a silent breath and looked right back at him. There was no way he could get you into trouble without admitting his own faults. “I wonder what the protocols are for teachers and acceptable behaviour on school grounds?” You said, sticking your chin up and thinking you sounded more like an insolent child than anything else.

He smiled widely. “Ah, very good, Miss Eves! Worry not. If I wanted to expel you I would have had Professor Sif handle it,” he said.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I don’t plan to,” you said. You finally lost your resolve and looked at the floor. Your cheeks heated at the thought of him half naked. “Th-thank you for not letting Professor Sif see me.”

“Miss Eves, it is simply water under the troll bridge. Though, I have a bit of a favour to ask of you,” he said. “Perhaps we can call it even then.”

You glanced up, and he had moved away from the wall and was now standing a couple of inches away from you. “Yes, sir?”

“That envelope you gave me was an invitation to dinner with the Headmistress and Professor Odinson. That’s just where I’m headed now, in fact. And I would love for you to accompany me,” he said, holding out his hand like a gentleman.

You stared at his hand, and then up at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

He smiled and reached over to your shoulder, guiding you to follow him. As you both walked, he said, “To be completely honest with you, I just hate these family reunion dinners. Terribly awkward. It would be a pleasure to have you there.”

“I’d hate to crash a dinner party. I’m sure Headmistress Frigga just wanted a family affair. Plus, I’m not even hungry!” You said, and then your stomach growled most viciously. You looked down at it with a look of betrayal.

“It will be fun, I promise. Rainbow umbrella,” he said.

You realized you were already at the Headmistress’s office as the statue of the gargoyle began to turn. “But sir,” you started, but he smiled at you so disarmingly that you could not find any words to deny his request. He grabbed your hand and led you up the steps and you were sure that this was an awful, terrible idea.

[quirkswriting]

iida tenya’s guide to physical intimacy for the socially awkward

Overview: Your boyfriend’s been acting a little strange lately... not that you’re jealous or anything, but what’s gotten into your socially conscious (and easily embarrassed) favourite boy and why is he holding Midoriya’s hand instead of your own? Pairing: Iida Tenya x Reader (Aged up Uni/College AU!) Word Count: 4.7k Warning(s): Swearing, a small hint of jealousy? But not gross jealousy Author’s Notes: This has taken me a ridiculous amount of time to finish but it’s here! Part 3 of the soft cuddle series featuring the lovable dork Iida <3

                                                          ***

Iida was annoyed. More than annoyed, really, and starting to verge on frustrated. Not quite upset, but heading in that direction. Which is why he was currently pacing back and forth in the living room of his shared apartment with Midoriya and Todoroki. He’d asked them for advice, calling a roommate meeting in their living room to see if they could help him with his problem.

“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet,” Todoroki said, though he didn’t look up from the book he was reading—something for his Conspiracy Theories class, which had Todoroki the most animated Iida had ever seen him when they’d been discussing the chapter on the Mothman at lunch the day before. So either Todoroki didn’t actually care about the rug or he was too into his reading to push it any further (or possibly a combination of both, seeing as they’d used Todoroki’s father’s credit card to furnish their apartment when they’d moved in and he’d just bought whatever item was the most expensive if Iida or Midoriya didn’t step in with a different opinion). Iida kept pacing anyway, while Midoriya came back from the kitchen with his arms full of snacks and drinks.

“So what’s bugging you, Iida?” He asked, sitting next to Todoroki on the couch. He handed the quiet boy beside him a drink before depositing the rest on the coffee table and taking a drink for himself. Iida finally stopped pacing. He sat down on the plush chair opposite the couch, keeping his back straight as he sank down into the cushion as he looked at his friends. Todoroki was still reading his book, now holding a can of pop in one hand and balancing his book in the other, while Midoriya also had his own can of pop and had popped the tab open and was taking a drink. Iida figured that he may as well tell them.

“I’ve failed as a boyfriend,” he said. Midoriya almost immediately started coughing, choking on his drink. Todoroki dropped his book on his lap and began to pound the smaller man on the back to try and help clear his airway. It took almost a minute before Midoriya stopped coughing and gently pushed Todoroki away.

“What do you mean, ‘failed as a boyfriend’?” Midoriya asked, red starting to fade from his face. Iida sighed, slumping his shoulders and resting his hands on his knees.

“I… want to take the next step in my relationship with (Y/N) and I just haven’t been able to do it,” he told his friends, looking down at his sock feet. “I’ve been researching the best methods for physical intimacy. I’ve read all of the books I could find in the library and I’ve tried looking up information online and I’ve learned quite a lot but every time I try and put it into practice it doesn’t work.”

“You’ve been reading books on physical intimacy?” Midoriya asked, and Iida could hear the crack in his voice. Iida felt his own cheeks grow warm as he looked up from his feet to his friends. Midoriya was trying very hard to keep a smile off his face, while Todoroki was clearing his throat—and sounding suspiciously like he was snorting into his hand. It took an embarrassingly long thirty seconds for Iida to realize what they were thinking, and when he did his eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Not that kind of physical intimacy!” Iida said, waving his hands in front of him. That just seemed to amuse his friends even more and he really hoped they never told you that this conversation happened (but given how close you were with Midoriya he really wasn’t going to hold his breath). “I want to, you know, I’d like to initiate… you know, when you see couples? And they’re not being inappropriate but they’re showing more affection than I’m comfortable doing in public, do you know what I mean?” He was gesturing vaguely and his voice was trailing off towards the end of his sentence, but judging by the way Midoriya’s face lit up, Iida knew he’d made some semblance of sense.

“Oh, Iida, you want to be cuddly with (Y/N)! Oh thank goodness, when you said you’d failed as a boyfriend I thought you’d cheated on them,” Midoriya said, scratching the back of his head. Iida started sputtering, but Midoriya held his hands up in front of his face before his glasses wearing friend could say anything. “I know you wouldn’t though! It’s okay! But it’s that kind of physical intimacy. That’s… that’s a really weird way of putting it. You can just call it PDA, you know? Normal people usually do.”

Iida must have looked as confused as he felt, because Todoroki followed up with, “Public displays of affection,” before draping his arm over the back of the couch and just over Midoriya’s shoulders so that his fingertips were ever so slightly brushing the fabric of Midoriya’s shirt. Now it was the green haired young man’s turn to blush a soft pink. Iida couldn’t help raising an eyebrow and Todoroki cleared his throat. “This… is an example. Of that. I’m giving you an example.”

Well, at least now Iida had something to tell you later. That would hopefully cancel out whatever Midoriya was going to tell you had happened at his apartment today.

“Wait, hold on, if you’re not comfortable doing that in public why are you researching it?” Midoriya asked, his face still pink while he made no move to shy away from his roommate. Iida fidgeted slightly in the chair, relaxing his posture just a bit. He’d been raised with certain expectations in place; to be a proper young man, he had to treat his partners with respect and dignity and treasure them where they are meant to be treasured. He was taught to keep private things private, at home, where it was safe and sacred and just that much more intimate because it was shared between the two of them. That’s how his parents had been, a very ‘behind closed doors’ sort of couple. Hell, Iida could count the number of times he’d seen his own parents kiss on one hand! But he knew you’d been raised differently; that for you, casual intimacy was ingrained into who you were—and he wanted to be part of that too. Even if it was slightly unnerving for him.

Thinking about you brought a smile to Iida’s face, and he looked back down at his hands as they sat folded in his lap. “Because… I know (Y/N) would like it. And I want them to be happy.” He could imagine how you’d look, how happy you’d be in his arms at the movies, or with your hands wrapped around his arm while you were walking in the park, or any other scenario from the multitudes of books he’s read and movies he’s watched over the last few weeks. And while the images were perfect in his head... “But every time I try I always manage to mess it up. And then I try harder and I end up making it worse!” Iida dropped his head low and brought his hands up to cover his face.

“I don’t know, maybe… just kinda go with the flow?” Midoriya suggested, and then Iida felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked up into the freckled face of his best friend, who had moved from his spot beside Todoroki to come and sit cross legged on the floor in front of Iida with a smile on his face. “Just do what feels natural. Or, you know, don’t try so hard with (Y/N). Literally everyone knows how much you guys like each other.”

“To quote Bakugou, the two of you are, ‘Absolutely disgusting with all that lovey-dovey bullshit’,” Todoroki piped up, doing a very deadpan impersonation of the hot-tempered blond. Midoriya snorted, and Iida felt himself crack a small smile. Todoroki then continued, “And if Bakugou can tell how much the two of you like each other, then it’s probably a good idea to listen to Midoriya about this. (Y/N) picked you, after all, knowing who you are and how you handle situations. Even after what happened in the dorms on—”

“Todoroki! Do not finish that sentence,” Iida said, waving his hands again. He had absolutely no desire to talk about the reason the three of them were currently required to live in an off campus apartment together. He’d much rather focus on the problem at hand. Midoriya snorted louder this time, and Todoroki went back to his book. “It’s not that I’m doubting my feelings for (Y/N) or their feelings for me, it’s about… it’s about me having no idea how I’m supposed to ‘Go with the flow’ because every time I try I just get so flustered it ends in disaster and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better!”

Todoroki dogeared his page and closed his book once more, letting it rest on his lap. “Practice makes perfect,” he said. “You just have to keep working at it. Eventually you’ll get better. Less stiff. Like when you oil your joints to keep yourself in prime condition.” Midoriya coughed to cover what Iida knew was a laugh, and the blue haired man rolled his eyes.

“Practice with who? There are only so many times I can knock over a table when I go out with (Y/N). We’re running out of restaurants we can go to,” he said. It was starting to become a problem, honestly. He thought for a moment, studying his friends, before an idea started to take shape in his mind. These were his roommates, he trusted them, and they were some of the people who he was most comfortable with aside from you… Maybe this could work. “Unless… I practiced with the two of you?”

“With us? No way!” Midoriya’s eyes were wider than what seemed to be humanly possible, and Todoroki was shaking his head. Iida moved from his chair to come and kneel in front of his friends and place his hands on their shoulders.

Iida looked between his friends, his lips set in a firm line. “Think of (Y/N)! Do it for them!” He encouraged them. “Please? You’re the only ones who can help me now.” There was a tense silence for a moment as Midoriya and Todoroki looked to each other and communicated silently. Todoroki broke eye contact first, and his brows were furrowed as he turned to stare Iida down.

“No one tells anyone that we’re doing this,” Todoroki said, and Iida knew he’d won.

Now all he had to do was put his research into practice. And hopefully not cover his friends in their food when he tried.

                                                               ——

You walked into one of the coffee shops on campus, the cozy one beside the library (not the overpriced one next to the dorms or the super busy one in the community centre) on your way to get some studying done. Your afternoon class was cancelled (Professor Nemuri had emailed the class halfway through your last lecture and you almost cried out of pure relief) and with two tests and a paper due next week you were going to make the most of the time you had. Or, well, you’d try and that was the best you could really do. But you had your headphones in as you got in line to order, you thought of one way you could try and keep yourself on track; invite your boyfriend to come and study with you. You knew his class schedule and he didn’t have anything this afternoon so he might be willing to help you get more done than you would on your own. So you took your phone out of your pocket, moving forward as the person in front of you got closer to the counter, and typed out a message.

‘Hey, my afternoon class got cancelled, wanna come study with me in the library? Study snacks are on me this time!’ you sent, and just like usual you had a response almost right away.

‘Ah, I’m sorry to hear about that (Y/N)! I would be more than happy to study with you this weekend, but I’m afraid I have plans today.’ You frowned, but you knew it was a little last minute anyway. And only your boyfriend would be sad to hear that class was cancelled. You sent off a few sad faces but told him that it was okay, and put your phone back in your pocket. The line moved forward again, and you couldn’t help but look around the coffee shop while you waited. There wasn’t anything too interesting happening at the occupied tables and you almost sighed out loud before you noticed a familiar mop of red and white hair in the back on the side opposite you.

There he was, Tenya Iida, your socially conservative boyfriend, practically cuddled up with his roommates (and your friends) Midoriya and Todoroki in a small booth on the other side of the coffee shop. If any of them looked up and over they would definitely see you, but they seemed to be pretty engrossed in whatever they were talking about so you doubted they’d notice unless you caught their attention. You wished you were a little closer so you could hear what they were saying.

You saw Tenya, the pink flush on his cheeks visible even though he was on the other side of the coffee shop, hesitantly reach over and place his hand on top of Midoriya’s own. You could swear your own jaw dropped and your mouth hung open while you watched. You felt a small pang in your chest watching him hold Midoriya’s hand, and you bit your bottom lip. Tenya was allowed to do whatever he wanted, he was his own person and you trusted him, but seeing him openly affectionate with Midoriya? In public? When you knew how private your boyfriend was and how uncomfortable PDA made him? Your mind was swirling with questions that you absolutely wanted answers to and as much as you were going to deny it, you were just a tiny bit jealous. But you definitely didn’t take any pleasure when, not even a moment later, something Todoroki said caused Tenya to jump and his drink to spill down his front. Nope, no pleasure at all (But you’d remember to give him some stain remover next time you saw him).

You heard someone clear their throat, and you turned from the sight capturing your attention to see the cashier looking expectantly at you. You moved forward, scratching at the side of your neck as you placed your order and paid for it. You moved off to the side and waited patiently for the barista to finish preparing your drink for you—they were as quick as usual, and you couldn’t help but look back to where your boyfriend and his roommates were sitting as you were leaving. They looked completely normal now, no evidence anything had happened except for a small pile of napkins you could see at the edge of the table. You pursed your lips as you left and headed to the library.

But even after you’d secured a table and laid everything out to attempt to have a productive afternoon (before falling victim to Netflix) you couldn’t get the image out of your head and the more you thought about it, the less sense it made. You’d long given up on your test prep and had been staring at a blank laptop screen for the last half hour. Or, well, it felt like half an hour (but had only been about seven minutes). This was going to be a long afternoon and it had only just begun.

Just what the hell had happened?

                                                       ——

You caught Tenya with Midoriya and Todoroki once again, a few days later, when you were picking up dinner in the dining hall for you and Tsuyu. The two of you were going to binge a new anime together and it was your turn to grab food while she was getting everything set up for your hangout session tonight.

It was the same kind of thing this time, except instead of holding Midoriya’s hand Tenya was attempting to put his arm around Todoroki’a shoulders. It looked so awkward and yet so endearing, but that didn’t stop you frowning. You felt your stomach twist and turn as you wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched your boyfriend talk and laugh and look so much more comfortable and relaxed than you’d ever seen him in public. You couldn’t write this off as a one time thing (which is what you’d done with the coffee shop incident, and was how you justified not talking to him about it before now) because he just looked so natural sitting there.

Part of you really wanted to walk up to them and find out what the hell was going on, but you didn’t. Tsuyu was waiting, after all, and the rational part of you argued that there had to be a good explanation for all of this. Plus, even if it wasn’t with you, seeing your normally stiff boyfriend so relaxed was something that made you the tiniest bit happy. So, with the knots still stretching and twisting your stomach, you went and grabbed the requested food and spent your night with your roommate. There had to be some kind of logical explanation… right?

                                                          ——

Things finally came to head about a week later when you and Tenya were spending a Saturday night in your apartment. Tsuyu was out with her girlfriend so you had the place to yourself, and you’d invited Tenya over for dinner to spend time together. And, if you could figure out the right way to word it, to find out why he’d been acting so strange with his roommates.

The two of you made dinner together—or, well, you threw whatever leftovers were in your fridge together to make a semi-decent meal so you wouldn’t have to order in again while the two of you decided on something to watch on Netflix. You’d kept yourself busy from the moment you’d buzzed him up, pouring drinks and getting food ready and only speaking to ask him to hand you something or answer something he asked. Tenya kept moving closer to you, but you kept finding reasons to move away from him; until you figured out how you were going to ask him why he was suddenly cuddle buddies with his roommate, you didn’t want to risk letting him see any kind of physical indicator that you were jealous… er, not jealous, but curious. That’s what you were telling yourself.

You managed to get dinner cooked (and the parts you made were actually pretty tasty this time) and the two of you sunk down into the living room couch to watch a movie (because Tenya refused to let you eat in bed so you had to make do until your food was finished) with Tenya occupying the middle and you claiming your favourite side of the couch and the best mismatched pillows to curl up with. The two of you had finally settled on Whisper of the Heart with a promise of watching Avatar later on (“I must find out what happens at the Boiling Rock, (Y/N)!”) after you’d finished eating. But you didn’t even make it ten minutes into the movie before Tenya was placing his plate on the coffee table in front of you both.

“I can tell something is bothering you,” Tenya said. You pursed your lips but didn’t say anything, and he sighed. “Please tell me what’s going on. Is it your paper? I meant it when I said your conclusion was beautifully written, and I’m sure Professor Yamada is going to agree with me.”

Well, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to broach the subject if you tried. You put your own plate down on the coffee table as well (balancing it on your lap was probably not a good idea this time) and turned to face your boyfriend before you opened your mouth and words started rumbling out. “Look, I know that it’s none of my business and I have no idea what was going on but I saw what you were doing with Midoriya and Todoroki,” you said. You began twisting your hands in your lap. Tenya brought his own hand up to cover his mouth as he stared at you. “In the coffee shop, Tenya. And then again in the dining hall in the community centre. I saw you guys… you know. Being a lot closer in public than I’ve ever seen you before with anyone and it’s just been bugging me, Tenya, because you told me you don’t like that stuff.”

“...it was for you,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, and he’d moved his hand down to rest on his chin. His body slumped forward, and you watched your boyfriend’s shoulders sag even further than they already were. You shifted closer to him, scooting a little farther down the couch.

“I don’t get it.” You were a little unclear as to what you had to do with him holding someone else’s hand in public. Especially because it was someone else’s hand, not yours. Tenya sighed.

“Look, what I mean to say is… they were helping me practice. For you,” he told you, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. You knew your eyebrows were up near your hairline, and his slowly reddening cheeks exposed just how embarrassed he was. “I wanted to be more comfortable showing you affection in public and Midoriya and Todoroki were helping me do that. So I could be a better boyfriend for you and show you the affection I know you want and deserve. And so I can stop knocking tables over when we go out.” That got a small laugh out of you, and you saw some of the tension slip out of Tenya’s shoulders as he sat up and relaxed against the back of the couch.

“You’re already the best boyfriend I could ask for,” you told him, and you held your hand out towards him with your palm up. He placed his own on top of it and threaded your fingers together before giving it a light squeeze. “Just because you’d rather be cuddly in private doesn’t mean I think you’re a bad boyfriend. I want to respect your boundaries too. But it’s really sweet that you want to do that for me, even if you did use Midoriya and Todoroki to help you do that. In public. Where I saw you.”

Tenya tilted his head to the side, his eyes studying your expression carefully, before a smile started turning the corners of his lips up. “Were you jealous, love?” he asked, and you avoided his eyes. He squeezed your hand again and brought it up to his lips. That got you to look at him, and he pressed a soft kiss to each of your knuckles. “Midoriya’s hand wasn’t even close to being as nice as yours. His were a little chapped, I’m worried about them. Maybe you should get him some of that lotion you use for his birthday.”

This was the Tenya you knew in private, who did enjoy showing you love and care and affection (you know, once you’d both passed the whole awkward first stage of dating and he realized that you were in it for the long term with him, even after the Spider Incident™ and the boys in his year being asked to move into private residences) and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him and curl up next to his side. It was ridiculously sweet that he’d done that for you.

And, of course, now that you’d both talked it out you decided it was time to have a little fun with him. “So that was why you’ve been so weird lately? I thought midterms had caused your wires to get crossed,” you said. You smiled at him while he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe the coffee you spilled on yourself fried your motherboard.”

“Oh you’re very original, (Y/N), so funny,” he said. “I’ll have you know I got that stain out, thank you. And it was tea, you know I don’t drink coffee.” Which, as someone who enjoyed 8am lectures, you had literally no idea how he survived on tea and water. Your boyfriend was definitely some kind of robot. You had yet to prove it, but no one could function as well as he did and not be at least part machine (not that you minded, exactly).

“We really should get you a waterproof case. Maybe an otterbox? They come in all sorts of cute colours,” you told him, reaching forward to grab your plate. Dinner was probably lukewarm at best at this point, but you’d eat it either way with minimal complaining. Tenya did the same with his plate, a smile on his face as he stayed close to you—but still made sure there was enough room so you didn’t elbow each other.

You both ate in comfortable silence for a moment, before another thought occurred to you. “You know, I only saw you and the boys twice… just how long did this go on for?” you asked, and Tenya cleared his throat and grabbed the remote to play the movie. You tried to grab it, but he moved it out of reach and, not wanting to risk dropping your dinner, you elbowed him in the side before he played the movie and turned the volume up loud enough to ensure silence, at least for a little while.

You got an answer out of him later, when the two of you were laying in bed watching some life changing field trips with Zuko, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man with his arms wrapped around you and whispering a million and one questions about how the Fire Nation prison and law enforcement systems must work because all he wanted was for you to be happy. You’d never want to ask for anything more.

                                                          ——

Bonus! Epilogue:

You and Tenya were out for lunch on campus with Midoriya and Todoroki a few days later, your boyfriend proudly holding your hand above the table as you talked about funny stories from Midoriya’s EMR course (“Professor Shuzenji asked us what we would do when we respond to a call and find someone with a stab wound and someone seriously shouted ‘Call 911!’ and she actually yelled back ‘YOU ARE 911!’”) and you couldn’t help but smile and be thankful for your boyfriend and your friends and how lucky you are. But as the conversation dwindled, you also knew some words were in order with the two men across from you and Tenya.

“So Tenya told me what you guys were doing. You know, how you were canoodling my boyfriend,” you told the two of them, and you couldn’t help snorting just a little when Midoriya started sputtering and Todoroki dropped his chopsticks.

“We agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone!” Midoriya said, looking at Tenya with his brows furrowed and his mouth pulled down into a frown. You could feel Tenya’s shoulders shake next to you, and it made the smile on your face get even bigger.

“Hey, we were doing it to help you,” Todoroki said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Iida asked us, if I remember correctly, and we were trying to be good friends.” Tenya shrugged, putting his free hand in the air.

“Yeah he did, but you still agreed to it. And I know you guys and I know you had to be making fun of him too. So if I’m gonna poke fun at him for it then it’s only fair you guys get some of that too,” you said. You leaned forward in your seat, smiling at the green haired male, and then at the two-toned Todoroki in front of you. “So who are we going to start with first? Clammy hands Todoroki, or Midoriya ‘I don’t know how to take care of my skin’ Izuku?” And then you started cackling loudly as they started to protest and draw the attention of everyone else at nearby tables.

Oh, this was going to entertain you for a long time and you were going to love every minute of it.

[sidigtal-anim]

AMPHIBIA: SEASON 2B TRAILER BREAKDOWN

NEW AMPHIBIA EPISODES!! (Trailer spoilers and speculation! DUH!)

Y’all have NO CLUE how excited I am!! After that huge mid season finale drop, Amphibia fans all around have been waiting for the second half of the season! I did a Speculation post based on the episode titles, and another one based off of the episode loglines for the March drop!

Check them out, cause I will be referencing them as we go!! I’m first gonna do a scene by scene breakdown, then I’m gonna see if my predictions were right, or wrong. So many theories!!! I will also be mentioning the episode titles Matt released in the AmphibiaDirect, so if you don’t want to know, leave now!

If you haven’t seen the trailer yet, click here to see it all!!! Let’s begin shall we!

00:00–00:21: Completely old information and clips from Season 2A that we’ve all seen before with the music box and Sasha-Angst. One thing I did not expect was that this trailer would be so Sasha heavy. I expected her to kinda fade into the background and we’d focus a lot more on the temples, so this makes me have theories I may not have had before.

00:22–00:26: Marcy’s new bird (as teased in the Amphibia-Big City Greens promo). We have two shots with them, one where they are flying down with only a bunch of books that would last a lifetime, or a few minutes with Marcy. The second shot is them flying in the air with Anne and Marcy riding through the sky. I am trying my absolute hardest to not hope for gay then to be disappointed, but c’mon!!! Has no one seen How to Train Your Dragon?!!?!? But Hop Pop is being held in the second shot by the Bird’s talons so I think this is a little more Marcy and Wartwood kind of situation. Maybe somewhere around “Ivy on the Run” with Marcy and her bird being the B Plot.

00:27–00:31: The First Temple. We know from the colours and the shape from the book that it is the First Temple. It seems to have water flowing out of Frog statues’ mouths, and on the temple’s walls there are imagery of brains and a vague Newt Shape reading a book! Definitely talking about wit here! Even all the mushrooms are green, and we know how much Amphibia loves to use colour.

00:31–00:33: The Second Temple! We don’t actually see the Temple, just the archway leading to the Temple. Marcy seems to have the charged green gem on the music box, which is pointing them in the direction of the Temple, very Onyx Equinox-esque.

00:34–00:36: The entrance to the Third Temple. Lava pouring everywhere and pink statues of buff Amphibians? Definitely Sasha, no questions asked. I have no other thoughts about this shot other than the jagged rocks atop of the cave, seems like it could collapse in on itself and cause people to get hurt.

00:36–00:37: Ivy and Sprig jumping on treetops, I think this is from “Ivy on the Run” where Ivy is running from her mother’s strict rules, and Sprig is trying to talk her out of it. They’re so cute! It makes me wanna hold onto them and never let go.

00:38–00:39: Bessie jumping over a ravine with Sprig and Polly at the reins, which is from “Night Riders”, the first episode we’re seeing this Saturday!

00:39–00:40: A First Temple Puzzle where you have to solve a cube to enter the next stage. Seems like Marcy is in “her own little bubble” (heh. sorry i had to) and as she’s solving the cube, the room also moves on its own, with the Plantars being shifted to another side. Kinda like Wulfric’s gym in Pokemon X and Y. This sets interesting character work for Marcy, since she’s known to have issues with connections, but she’s so into knowledge and smartness that she may not realise the issues she’s causing to the people around her.

00:40–00:41: MADDIEEEEEE!!!! Definitely from “Maddie and Marcy”. I feel like they would get together and Marcy would be so into learning about Maddie and creepy magic that they will form a bond. This is how nerds make friends everyone, they find something the other is SUPER invested in and they learn about it. Either that or an extrovert claims them both, and they know each other via association.

00:42–00:43: Giant chicken bat for “Return to Wartwood”. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Seems like the Plantars set up a banquet for them, and they’re running away. So shenanigans!

00:44–00:45: Okay, so I initially thought Sasha’s next episode was gonna be in episode 16 (”Toad to Redemption/Barrel’s Warhammer”) and I initially thought that it would be Toad to Redemption, because y’know... Toads. But with Sasha’s pink powers shown in her using that giant warhammer, I think it’s going to be either one of the two, but Sasha is definitely showing up in 216. They don’t seem to be on a train, but the Earth is moving very fast for some reason. 

00:45–00:46: The Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar seems to be activating the tippity-top of the Second Temple, with Anne near her. The position of this is high above the clouds, and there is a blue glow coming from the writings/symbols on the ground. Perhaps this is the charging method for the gems on the box.

00:47–00:48: More First Temple stuff! Writing’s on the wall (man these visual puns just write themselves y’know!) and they are in the inside of the temple. Interestingly enough, the main floor is green like the rest of the temple, but the other side (puzzles) seems to have red and blue squares, perhaps representing the heart and strength (blue and pink) which is what the wit lacks.

00:49: The Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar opens a Scroll with the Music box, the three gems (which seemingly came before the box) and three people in coats almost praying to it. This is definitely “After the Rain” with the story of the Music Box being revealed. Cause we still have no idea what “After the Rain” is gonna be about.

00:50: GENERAL YUNNAN!! Scourge of the Sand Wars! Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched! The youngest Newt to ever be named General in the GREAT NEWTOPIAN ARMY!! (Can you tell I stan her? because I stan her.)

Anyways, she seems to be in the first temple or King Andrias’ throne room. I’m mainly assuming this because the temple because the building is blue or because the spires from King Andrias’ throne room are in the way back there, but there are several Toads there defeated on the ground. Either these were people to protect Marcy at the Temple, or this is an episode where all of Grimes’ command are trying to take over Newtopia under Sasha and Grimes’ command. Quite the plausible amount for theories and plot just from a one-second Yunnan shot.

00:51: A chess board with Frog knights shooting lasers at Marcy. Another one of the First Temple’s tricks, or it could be King Andrias’ plot, since we saw him with Chess pieces of Anne and Marcy at the end of “Marcy at the Gates”, so this clip could either be “The First Temple” or “True Colors” and either or are exciting!!

00:52-00:53: A mole comes out of the ground as Mayor Toadstool walks around seemingly trying to please Newtopian guards and soldiers. “Toad to Redemption” now makes complete sense! I called that it would either be Anne and Marcy helping a battle-hardened Toad, or it would be a Sasha episode. I think its the first part, where Newtopian inspectors are coming to suprise visit Mayor Toadstool and inspect if he’s doing a good job taking care of Wartwood, to no one’s surprise find out he’s embezzling money from the town. The episode would be Marcy and Anne helping Toadstool to become better so he doesn’t lose his job as Mayor.

00:53–00:58: We have three shots here, one of each of the girls. Anne looks back in the rain, almost distraught. This is definitely “After the Rain” and I’m not ready for the angst. Marcy is visibly frustrated over chess pieces, this is either a challenge from the Temple or she’s found out about Andrias’ plan. As much as Option 2 is interesting, I think the first one is more realistic. Sasha in the Third Temple, activating her Colour Power and breaking the ground underneath her to a circle. I am constantly terrified by and for Sasha.

00:58–1:00: Polly and Sprig’s silhouettes running in the rain. Also “After the Rain” but still nothing much to say here.

1:00–1:01: Giant tentacles grab Sprig and the Plantars. I have no idea what this is, but it also appeared in the “Night Riders/Return to Wartwood” trailer/promo, so I’m assuming it’s from that episode.

01:02: Sasha is facing off against a giant golem! Probably the Third Temple’s trial.

01:03: Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar reveals the secrets of the Music Box. Definitely an “After the Rain” episode. I did not expect Marcy to be there though, that’s interesting now. 

01:04–01:06: Two shots from the Third Temple. First one being Anne having a moment of realisation, and the other with the Golem roaring in front of Anne and Sasha. This freaked me out because wtf??? Sasha and Anne together?? Are they solving it together too??? Interaction equals resolution/conflict/character drama.

01:07–01:12 & 01:17–01:22: So how are we integrating baby Marshanne into this??? As for which episode, I have no idea! But some interesting details in this is that Sasha seems to have been the last out of the three to have joined. Since Anne and Marcy are together crying, while baby Sasha is one on the slide standing up (hehe) for them. Between the first clip and the second, Sasha has a bruise on her forehead, so she may have gotten hurt trying to protect them. They introduce each other and that’s the end of the clip. I’m assuming this is finale material, because otherwise I have no idea where this is coming from or going to.

01:13–01:16: Anne pulls the Plantars in for a hug. Still not sure where this is for, but it is a thing.

01:23–01:28: Two shots of Sasha and Anne, which seemed to have been slowed down to around half speed. Shot one has Anne standing, almost distraught wearing what seems to be Newtopian armour, with Sasha’s foot in the foreground. The second shot is Anne holding her sword at the top of the Newtopian Walls to Sasha who is weaponless and has her hands up in surrender. Smoke is rising from the land below, and Anne looks visibly angry. I have no idea what is happening, but this definitely has to be finale material.

A title card shows Amphibia returning 6th March!! Hype.

01:34–01:45: Of course we need happy stuff to counter ANGST! So we have a bizarre sequence of Frobo making a garden and growing flowers in a matter of seconds. Hop Pop is enthralled by this and welcomes him to the family, and Polly looks at him knowingly. This is a very big development played very casually, since we know nothing about the robot besides his goofy self being able to do this. Frobo is the most cryptic thing this season besides the King’s basement, we also have no information on Frobo so this is a striking change. This will take place in “Friend or Frobo?” and I am stupid hyped!!! I don’t know anything about Frobo and I want to know more!! Also Wartwood is on fire. It’s just a normal Tuesday everybody. 

That ends the trailer breakdown!! But I did have some more general theories and thoughts I’ll include here.

Something I did want to mention before we started was the music in the beginning of the non-speaking part of the trailer. To me, it sounded like an epic reprise of John Legend’s “All of Me”, and I’m thinking there’s one of two things happening: one is that the finale song that we’re all crying to is “All of Me” by John Legend, like how Reunion’s was “Lean on Me” by Bill Withers; or, I’m just theorising like a mad person. Who knows!

Also another general observation is the puzzles and how we’ve been prepped for them by “Family Shrub” where each one has puzzles and riddles each person who fits a specific role must solve. Each girl with each of the Temples, and they need each one to deal with their own Temple. Meaning Sasha being at the Third Temple means some form of resolution/character interaction.

As for Sasha, I don’t know if she’s gonna be redeemed necessarily, but I think she might go to the good side and Marcy goes to the bad side. I don’t wanna believe that cause I love Marcy to death, but Season 2 finales are always horrifying before Season 3 finales wrap up nicely. So I’m expecting even more drama than the Season 1 finale. I want all the girls to be happy, and it’s not happening this season for sure. So much excitement!!!

That concludes all my thoughts on the trailer for Season 2B! Let me know what you’re excited for, your thoughts and theories, and if you agree or disagree with what I’ve said here!! So excited!!!!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Among Us

Shinobu Kochou x Fem Reader 

Also Featuring: Giyuu, Obanai, Mitsuri, Nezuko, Tanjirou, Kanao, Zenitsu, and Inosuke.

A/N: Y’all already know what it is. Enjoy this modern, kinda crack, fic.

“Start!” Inosuke screamed in everyone’s ears the second the lobby was filled. “Inosuke, you don’t need to yell!” Tanjirou winced. “I said start! Who’s running this thing? Let’s go! I wanna crush all of you!” Inosuke’s voice boomed over the discord server, his character moving erratically about the lobby space. “Inosuke, just hold on a second. I’m adjusting the settings!” (Y/n) tried to explain over the boy’s howls.

“Oh, hey, guys? Is it okay if I stream this?” Mitsuri asked. “My subscribers have been begging to see me play,” “I don’t have a problem with it,” (Y/n) shrugged, “What does everyone else think? Speak now or forever hold your regret,” A bunch of muddled voices resounded through (Y/n) headphones and she listened hard to pick up any objections. “Sounds like You’re good to go Mitsuri,” “Thanks guys!” “Start! Start! Start!” Inosuke chanted. “Oh my god,” (Y/n) groaned, “Okay, I hope they get you first,” she muttered as she clicked the start button. “What?!” The screen fades, (Y/n) sighs, relieved that she’s a crewmate this round. Imposter is much too stressful. “Oooo I’m so excited!” Mitsuri’s voice broke through as the game began. “Mitsuri, mute,” Shinobu and Obanai gently reminded her before re-muting themselves. “Eep! Sorry!” Mitsuri replied before all was silent. (Y/n) opened her map and decided she’d work right to left for now. She made her way to weapons and saw Nezuko’s little brown bean with bear ears shooting asteroids while Tanjirou and Zenitsu watched. (Y/n) made a mental note of it and continued to navigation for her download and spaceship task. She walked into the empty room and began her download. As the download neared its completion, (Y/n) prayed no meeting would be called before the final file was retrieved, lest she have to do it all over again. When the screen closed, (Y/n) jumped in her seat when she saw Shinobu’s little purple character hovering over hers. “Are you downloading Shinobu, or are you being nefarious?” (Y/n) muttered to herself. She eyed Shinobu suspiciously before moving to complete her spaceship task. When she finished that, Shinobu had moved to stand directly in front of her, the helmets of their little avatars meeting in a kiss. “Nope nope nope, stop that,” (Y/n) moved to get the hell out of nav but before she could, a body had been reported. “I found Inosuke’s body in electrical,” Giyuu spoke. “Zenitsu has been following me everywhere!” Tanjirou shared, “It’s very unsettling.” “It’s because I’m scared, Tanjirou!” Zenitsu cried. “Where is everyone what do we know?” Obanai asked. “I’m in reactor doing the pattern game!” Mitsuri shared. “Zenitsu, Nezuko, and I ended in admin.” Tanjirou supplied. “I was in nav with (Y/n).” Shinobu’s calming voice shined through. “That’s true,” (Y/n) affirmed, “I also saw Nezuko do asteroids so she’s clear. Kanao, where were you?” “Med bay,” came the quiet and precise reply. “Obanai, where were you?” Giyuu asked. “I was in storage filling my gas can,” he replied, coolly. “That’s close to electrical,” Giyuu noted. “Are you accusing me, Tomioka?” “Just making an observation,” “I think Tomioka self reported,” Shinobu sing-songed as she submitted her vote. “Ooo, defense Tomioka-san?” Mitsuri asked. “...I didn’t do it.” “I’ve heard all I needed to hear,” Obanai deadpanned while submitting a vote for Giyuu. “Okay, but I think we should hold off a round, we don’t have a lot to go off on. We should skip,” Tanjirou reasoned. “Just keep an eye on Giyuu. Maybe Kanao too, she could have vented to med bay from electrical,” “I agree!” Mitsuri voiced along with (Y/n) and a hum from Nezuko. The votes were cast with moments to spare. Three votes against Giyuu and the rest were skips. “Zenitsu, why did you vote for Giyuu?” Tanjirou asked. “He’s suspicious and I don’t want to die!” The game faded back in and (Y/n) decided to go to admin to card swipe and finish her upload. Shinobu followed close behind, along with Tanjirou and Zenitsu. (Y/n) began her upload, feeling relatively safe with three other people in the room. By the time she was done, Obanai had joined them as well. Though he appeared to be looking at the admin table rather than continuing his tasks. (Y/n) let him be and went to the card swipe, quickly completing the task before moving on. She followed Tanjirou and Zenitsu to storage and completed a set of wires while the green and yellow characters continued downward towards the right side. When she came out of the task, the lights were out. She moved as fast as her character’s stubby little legs would allow and found Mitsuri already fixing the lights. Soon, light flooded the map once more and (Y/n) checked the upper area and was shocked to find Giyuu standing over a black halved corpse, Obanai. She quickly reported with Mitsuri right behind her. “Nezukoooooo!” Zenitsu and Tanjirou yelled in unison. “Who killed my baby sister!” Tanjirou cried. “Oh dear,” came Shinobu’s sympathetic voice, “she was the only cleared one out of all of us,” “Guys, I’m sad too, but listen to what Mitsuri and I saw!” (Y/n) said, trying to talk over the rowdy boys’ wails. “What did you see, love?” Shinobu’s melodic voice sent shivers down (Y/n)’s spine, but she quickly recovered. “Giyuu was standing over Obanai’s body in electrical,” “He was!” Mitsuri confirmed, “My poor snake-y boi!” “I didn’t see him,” Giyuu claimed. “How could you not have seen him? You were literally standing on his body,” (Y/n) rose her arms in disbelief. “I was doing a task. The spinning circle thing,” he explained monotonously. “I know you’re incompetent Tomioka, but even you can’t be that clueless,” Shinobu chided. “Let’s not forget Obanai accused him of killing Inosuke last round,” “She’s right, I think we need to vote you out, sorry Giyuu,” Tanjirou called mournfully. “...But you don’t vote on seven.” Giyuu replied, seemingly emotionless. “When you know, you know. Sorry Giyuu,” (Y/n) voted, soon followed by the others. “But I have trash,” “Just vote, Tomioka,” Shinobu ordered with a mocking sweetness. A unanimous vote, besides Giyuu who skipped, sent the blue bean spinning into space. “Oh shiiiit,” (Y/n) groaned, as the white text appeared on screen. Giyuu was not an imposter. “A double kill and it’s all over.” As soon as the game resumed, the reactor went off. (Y/n) followed after everyone, counting the seconds until inevitable death. Shinobu and Zenitsu went top reactor so (Y/n) went to lower. There she found Kanao and Tanjirou who had originally headed the pack. “What?!” (Y/n) yelled, not caring if Shinobu could hear her from the living room, because Kanao’s white character with its cute little flower atop its head, just sliced Tanjirou up right in front of her. “I can’t believe I hit the report button before there was a double kill!” (Y/n) spoke quickly, “Kanao, sweet baby Kanao, killed sunshine boy Tanjirou in front of my very own eyes!” “Tanjirooooouuuu!” Zenitsu cried. “Kanao, is that true?” Shinobu asked. “...Yes,” Kanao answered after a short pause. “I have always appreciated your honesty, but you are allowed to lie in this game, Kanao,” “Okay, Nee-san” Kanao replied. “...I didn’t do it,” “It’s a little late for that now, but keep it in mind for the future.” “So wait, we’re voting off Kanao?” Mitsuri asked. “If (Y/n) is to be believed, then yes,” Shinobu replied. “What do you mean ‘if I’m to be believed?’” (Y/n) asked feeling a bit hurt, “I honestly saw her do it,” “You also played a major part in Tomioka getting booted off the ship. In fact, I’d say you and Mitsuri are quite suspicious,” “Hey!” Mitsuri whined, “How am I suspicious?” “You never showed up to reactor,” Shinobu explained, “You left your fellow imposter hanging. I assume (Y/n) only killed Tanjirou because she expected you to attack as well,” “I- I meant to help at reactor, really, but I got distracted by another arrow and went the wrong way!” Mitsuri sputtered. “I don’t know what to believe!” Zenitsu screamed. “Zenitsu, Shinobu, listen to me. I swear it’s Kanao, she admitted to it, remember?” (Y/n) couldn’t believe they were still debating this at all. “I believe (Y/n)!” Mitsuri declared and then promptly voted. “Well, we do need to vote... I suppose I’ll believe you (Y/n). After all, you could have killed me back in nav at the beginning of the game,” Shinobu decided. “Did you come up with that theory before just to spite me or what?” (Y/n) felt her eye twitch as her girlfriend’s melodic laughter rang through her ears. “Perhaps,” Shinobu teased, “I really do have my doubts about Mitsuri though.” “Shinobuuuu, don’t be mean!” (Y/n) could practically hear the pout in Mitsuri’s tone. The votes were soon counted. Everyone had voted for Kanao, including the quiet girl herself, and she was sent into space. The white text confirming that she was indeed an imposter. There were only four of them now, (Y/n), Shinobu, Zenitsu, and Mitsuri. (Y/n) cursed as she glanced at the task bar. It was barely half filled. “I’ll bet you anything Inosuke hasn’t done a single goddamn task this whole time,” she mumbled to herself as she followed Mitsuri’s pink character and the little hamster rolling behind her. (Y/n) stopped at security and did wires while Mitsuri continued downward to lower engine. (Y/n) then double backed to reactor after opening her map and realizing she had numbers to do as well. Once she completed that, (Y/n) only had one more set of wires to complete in the cafeteria. As she made her way up the map, o2 went off. (Y/n) bypassed the wires she needed to fix, and headed to admin where she was the only one around. She opened the task and was about to push the last number when a body was reported. “Mitsuri, care to explain yourself?” Shinobu spoke, her voice eerily calm. “Shinobu, you killed Zenitsu in front of me!” Mitsuri squealed. “It’s a self report (Y/n), I swear!” “(Y/n), would I ever lie to you?” Shinobu asked sweetly. “Yes, yes you would,” (Y/n) replied without hesitation. “You’re a beast at this game. I bet if we played in the same room you could still lie right to my face,” “That’s fair,” Shinobu replied. “Then I implore you to think back to the previous rounds.” “She’s stalling! I swear she did it, (Y/n)!” “(Y/n), when you were in electrical and saw Tomioka standing over Obanai’s body, wasn’t Mitsuri in there before you?” “Yeah, but she was fixing the lights,” (Y/n) recalled. “But how easy would it have been for her to lull Obanai into a false sense of security? Tomioka was indisposed, she probably killed Obanai while he was distracted then quickly turned off the lights, giving herself a cover as she fixed her own sabotage,” “That’s not true!” Mitsuri objected. “Then of course she ran away from reactor when it was in meltdown.” “(Y/n), I know this looks bad but I swear Shinobu is the evil one,” Mitsuri pleaded over the discord. “I-“ “(Y/n), we did a download in nav together at the beginning of the game. I even gave you a little kiss in front of the spaceship task. Does that sound like the work of a murderous space alien, (Y/n)” Shinobu added, interrupting (Y/n)’s train of thought. “N-no, but-“ “Love, trust me,” Shinobu practically purrs as she submits her vote, the sound tickled (Y/n)’s ears and made her become even more flustered. “(Y/n), no! Fight it! You know this isn’t right!” Mitsuri spoke passionately, submitting her vote for Shinobu. “AHHHHH I don’t know!” (Y/n) throws her arms up as the timer clicks dangerously low, she has to vote, one more kill for the imposter means game over. This was the crewmates’ last shot at victory. Then she thinks back to how the game should have ended with a double kill during the reactor meltdown. (Y/n)’s heart speeds up and she’s hit with a rush of premature euphoria. There is no way Shinobu would have messed up that double kill, not with her brutal history as an imposter! “Aha!” (Y/n) cheered, voting for Mitsuri at the very last second. She was practically bouncing in her seat she was so excited. “Nooooo!” Feed my hamster (Y/n), I forgive you!” Mitsuri cried, her voice comically fading out as her pink spaceman floated across the screen. “Isn’t this romantic, just a murderous alien and her human lover,” Shinobu’s sweet voice joyously sang. “Wait, what...? No! No fucking way!” (Y/n) cursed as the defeat message filled her screen. “You fool! I can’t believe you fell for that, idiot!” Inosuke cackled into his mic. “That was unfortunate, if it makes you feel any better I would have believed her too,” Tanjirou comforted. “I told you guys I didn’t kill anyone.” “Shut up, Tomioka,” Obanai huffed. “But, at reactor, why didn’t you do the double kill?” (Y/n) floundered, “Why drag it out? You could have ended it right there!” “And miss out on having my girlfriend and a nice spaceship all to myself? I think not,” Shinobu teased. “Aww that’s so sweet,” Mitsuri cooed. “You do realize that what you are calling ‘sweet’ is what led to you being sucked into space, right?” Obanai asked, his voice filled with more warmth than when he spoke to Giyuu. “Yes, but still.” “Enough pointless chatter! Start! Start another round!” Inosuke demanded. “If you get crewmate again you better finish your tasks, Inosuke. I know for a fact you weren’t doing them as a ghost,” Zenitsu grumbled. “Hmm hmm!” Nezuko agreed, seemingly angry. “Nezuko, are you eating another baguette right now?” Kanao asked. “Eyshureum,” Nezuko paused to swallow and spoke again more clearly, “I sure am.” “Impressive,” Kanao simply stated before going about her own business, moving her little white character in a figure eight pattern around the boxes in the lobby. “(Y/n)! Lord Inosuke commands you to start the next game!” Inosuke commands as his little cyan astronaut with a crown dances over (Y/n)’s character which stood completely still. “(Y/n)? You still there?” Mitsuri asked. “She’s probably still in shock, honestly,” Obanai scoffed, “Hey, (L/n), shake it off and get back in the game, let’s go,” “Sorry everyone, you’ll need to start a new lobby. (Y/n) and I have to go, bye!” Shinobu quickly jumped in out of nowhere. “Wh-“ Shinobu disconnected from discord and the game and pulled (Y/n) further into herself, a prideful smirk on her lips. “You are an evil genius and I totally hate you right now,” (Y/n) gasped after their lips met in a heated kiss. “Aww, don’t be bitter. Mitsuri won’t harbor any hard feelings,” Shinobu murmured, brushing her lips against (Y/n)’s as she spoke. “Besides, you know you love my sadistic side.” “Shut up, and kiss me some more before I change my mind,” (Y/n) frowned and tightened her grip on Shinobu’s shirt. “Happily,” Shinobu whispered, pushing (Y/n) back to lay across the couch. (Y/n)’s frown quickly melted away when Shinobu’s lips met hers once more.

[taizi]

Have you done 4, 49, or 52 yet? If you did sorry. Oh... And will you post these on ao3?

PROMPTS LIST

49. “I have a concern.” “Just one?” “No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

all of these prompt fills will make their way to my oneshot collection eventually :)

x

Shibata just happens to be there. 

Nishimura wanted snacks, and volunteered Natsume to go to the convenience store with him, and Shibata invited himself along. He’s only here for the weekend, after all, and Nishimura gets to have Natsume’s attention all the rest of the time. 

Natsume sighed, because he knew they’d bicker all the way to the store and back, but he still held the door and waved them through, arguments and all.

Now they’re walking back to Natsume’s house, the plastic bags between them bulging with sandwiches, and pancakes, and rice balls for poor, boring Tanuma. Natsume isn’t carrying a bag because he’s carrying that lazy sensei of his instead. 

Their breaths cloud in the crisp January air. The pink and orange of sunset has faded from the far corner of the sky, leaving it a deep, vivid blue. 

And it’s there, as they step off the sidewalk and head through the grass, cutting a familiar path through a familiar field of weeds and wheat, that Natsume seems to stumble upon courage.

“Hey, Satchan,” he says, “can I tell you something?”

It’s so casual, almost off-handed. Shibata almost misses it entirely. He’s trying to make sure his new shoes don’t get too muddy, distracted and looking at his feet while they trudge along. 

Nyanko-sensei’s eyes are very green in the fading light, glinting with animal brightness. Nishimura tips his head, silly and flighty at all other times, but super attentive when a friend calls his name. Particularly so when it’s Natsume.

Shibata can’t even make fun of the cutesy nickname, because Nishimura is impossible to embarrass. And Shibata has slipped up and used it before, too. 

“You can tell me anything,” Nishimura says plainly. If anything, he’s confused that Natsume thinks he needs to ask. 

And it’s this moment. Here, in the sprawling, rambling countryside. Here, in the blue hour, when the sun has gone down but the sky is still rich with color. Here, where home is just down the road and their friends are waiting.

Natsume says, “I can see spirits. I’ve always been able to see them.”

Shibata nearly trips, and it takes some real expert maneuvering to save his bag of convenience store food from an unfortunate meeting with the dirt. Nishimura stops walking abruptly enough that it’s almost a trip, too. His eyes are round and full. 

“I’ve never told anyone before,” Natsume goes on, sounding amazed by his own daring. “Well-- not really. Not since I was in grade school. No one believed me back then.” 

He’s always so pacific and detached, even when he’s in pain or afraid, that the edge of nervousness creeping into his tone now almost seems out of place.

For his part, Shibata is gaping. He can’t believe this. He wasn’t prepared. His eyes dart from Natsume’s anxious expression to Nishimura’s stunned one, and he starts shoring himself up. If he has to intervene, he will. He’s seen more proof than any reasonable person needs, and he’ll shove Nishimura’s face in it like a disobedient dog if that’s what it takes to make him understand. 

But it’s only a moment-- only seconds really-- before Nishimura’s face clears. He shuffles his bags to his left hand so his right one is free, and he touches Natsume’s arm the way Shibata has seen him do a thousand times. 

“That makes sense,” he says, nonsensically. “More sense than my esper theory, anyway.”

Natsume’s expression would put the sun to absolute shame. His smile is slow at first, but inexorable, like a stream of water picking its way around the bend that meets the river. He must be the brightest thing for miles. 

“You thought I was an esper?” he teases, laughter in his voice. “You watch too much TV.”

Nishimura throws up his hands, the contents of his shopping bag rattling ominously. “I saw you float in homeroom once! Like, a foot off the ground! ESP is way more plausible than you’re making it out to be, thank you very much.”

Shibata stares at them, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for this scene to shift. It can’t be that easy. It can’t be that painless. Nishimura must be lying to save face, or hiding what is most certainly a freak-out of epic proportions, because belief like this is impossible.  

Except now Natsume is introducing Nyanko-sensei properly, and Nishimura is talking to the cat-- surprise and wonder melting into acceptance as easily and naturally as a spring thaw. 

“You knew exactly what you were doing every time you stole my food!” Nishimura complains, tugging on one of Nyanko-sensei’s soft ears. “Natsume, your cat owes me money.”

Natsume laughs. He laughs, head tipping back, healthy color rising in his wind-chapped cheeks. In this moment, he’s so far removed from that tiny, overshadowed boy that Shibata used to bully on the playground that he might as well be another person entirely. 

Could it have been like this back then? Shibata wonders suddenly. The thought is intrusive and unwelcome. 

If he had been a kinder child, if he had suspended his disbelief for long enough to get to know the strange little boy no one wanted to sit next to in class, would Natsume belong to him the way he belongs to Nishimura and Kitamoto, Taki and Tanuma, Shigeru and Touko?

"Shibata,” Natsume says, in the tone of someone who’s said it more than once. “Hey, are you okay?”

Shibata blinks, arresting his attention. Natsume is watching him with a puzzled frown. Nishimura is waving his arms around and inching forward, as if he’s playing a strange, abridged version of Marco-Polo.

“Fine,” he blurts. “What’s your idiot friend doing?”

“He’s yours, too,” Natsume says peacefully. “And he’s looking for Nyanko-sensei.” 

“What, he poofed?” Shibata looks around the empty field, too. “How did I miss that?” 

“Who’s the idiot now, Sumi?” Nishimura calls over his shoulder. 

The annoying nickname slides right off Shibata like water off an oilskin coat this time. He’s still trying to catch up to this conversation. He almost feels winded, like he’s huffing and puffing across the finish line of a marathon that no one had the decency to warn him about. 

“I can’t believe you just blurted it out like that,” he says, barely mustering the strength to talk above a whisper. “You took ten years ojf my life, easy. I was hyping myself up for a big fallout or something.”

"I can’t believe it, either,” Natsume admits, smiling. “But it wasn’t even that scary, really. Definitely not as scary as I always thought it would be. Maybe because you were here.”

Shibata very quickly looks down at his hands to readjust his shopping bags and not because his eyes are stinging in a telling way.

Nishimura gives a sudden squawk of surprise, hands spread out against the empty air, eyes huge and moon-like. Then his face splits in a grin, and laughter comes bubbling out of him as easily as it always has, and he smooths one hand to the side as if he’s petting something. As if he’s petting Natsume’s ugly cat where it’s fallen asleep in his lap.

His trust is a wild, reckless thing. It’s almost infuriating to watch. 

Could it have been like this back then? If I was a better person?

“You said he can fly, right?” Nishimura demands. “I wanna fly! Tell him to take us the rest of the way home! He owes me at least a dozen rides, considering all the food I’ve given him.”

He’s already searching for handholds, trying to find a way up. Natsume stoops to gather the forgotten bags of snacks and loops the handles around his wrist before making his way over. To Shibata’s intense dismay, rather than tell Nishimura that it’s a stupid idea and he’s stupid for thinking of it, Natsume helps him climb up instead. 

“I have a concern,” Shibata says dryly. 

Natsume huffs. It’s not really a laugh, but it’s not not a laugh, either. “Just one?” 

“No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

“You can walk if you want to,” Nishimura calls down. “No one’s making you come along.”

It’s very surreal to see him sitting on nothing, well above Shibata’s head. It’s still very annoying to watch him take to this strange new world with enthusiasm and aplomb, as if he was simply born to exist in this moment and be Natsume’s friend. 

Never one to be outdone, Shibata ignores his own uncertainty to drawl, “And miss the chance to watch you make a fool out of yourself in new and unprecedented ways? Never.”

Nishimura crows with laughter, too delighted to take offense. Natsume sighs just like he did before they left, when he resigned himself to their noisy, obtrusive company. He holds out his hand the same way he held open the door. 

He’s always standing on that threshold. He’s always holding out his hand. 

Shibata has already missed so many chances to reach out and take it. He’s not going to miss any more. 

[grunklefidds]

an unfinished stanley-centered same coin fic that has been sitting in my phone since around new year's (i'm happy with what's there of it, it just cuts off abruptly and i don't think i'll be adding to it any time soon). enjoy

1.2k words, only significant warnings are for recurring discussion of self-loathing, some unreality/depersonalization as relevant to the theory, not particularly detailed mentions of violence, and a good sprinkling of cursing

stanley dreams of burning. flames hot enough to burn blue licking around him until theres none of him left.

he thinks the first time he told ford he really was a bad kid they were seven or eight. ford told him that he was wrong. stan gave him a noogie and they laughed it off.

he doesn't remember most of his dreams. still he often wakes up feeling like he's just got away with murder.

lying on his brother's bed with snow eddying outside the window, stanley was distantly aware that if he shifted to lie on his side, the fresh burn on his shoulder would hurt less. he didn't move. a fuck-up like him didn't deserve small comforts.

he burns up into nothing that night.

the phrase 'self-esteem' wasn't really present in stan's vocabulary until well after he'd got settled in to life as mr. mystery. talking about that sort of things with kids was not in style when he and ford were young, and for the first decade or so of adulthood he was too busy surviving to really give it any thought.

dreams are strange things, anyway. sometimes you do awful, awful things in them, as if watching yourself do it, any sense of horror completely absent. surely you'd never really do that! if all the people in your dreams are really you, if the you in your dreams is really you, then you must be some sort of monster, right?

stan tried to get in on the self help game back in '78: it seemed like an easy grift. when he found some junk workbook called SHAME 'N' YOU at a garage sale the first year he was in gravity falls, he dismissed it as more of the same. he still slipped it into his jacket. good for spare toilet paper if nothing else.

dreams of fire mix with dreams of him trapped in a colorless motionless place. it feels like home.

stan didn't like sleeping much in that first year or two working on the portal. at night he would sit in the kitchen desperately trying to understand the physics books he got at the library, alternating coffee and vodka, rather than sleep. he certainly didn't deserve to rest, not until he could clean up his mess. it only seemed fair.

occasionally among the dreams of fire and stifled screams there's feelings of comfort. some are memories of old hijinks with sixer but out of order with the colors brighter and warmer, and some are pink flashes of a sense of being protected. stan remembers these as little as he remembers the flames.

he found the phrase 'negative self-talk' not in the first book from the garage sale, but a similar one a few years later. stan scoffed at the concept. how could thinking that shit be a problem if it was all true?

his dreams are a bit less remarkable once the little guy starts working around the shack. it's nothing stan notices at the time, nothing abrupt, but dreams about ice cream goats and missing deadlines for high school english papers begin to slip in among the flames. some he even remembers. they leave him less exhausted in the morning.

at some point, despite the years of headache and frustration, it started to feel like stan was making good progress on the portal. it was satisfying, mastering all the nerd junk he picked up from books well enough to get the damned thing rumbling again. he wouldn't let himself feel proud of it, but 'accomplished' might be in reach once his brother was back.

his dreams are all over the place while the little ones are there. vivid memories of glass shard beach, flames a brighter blue than theyve been all his life, and horrifying sequences of him hurting the children in impossible ways. the traces of them leave his heart racing in the first moments after waking up.

having the young twins around the house made things a hell of a lot livelier. between getting general weird feelings from them reminding him of his brother and going out of his mind with worry when they didn't manage to hide whatever magical death trap they'd found that day, stan hadn't worked this hard at keeping a poker face since the 80s, at least.

dreams of happy days on the beach mix with ford looking at him with fear and shoving him onto a scorching stovetop. during the day, watching the kids smack each other with empty paper towel tubes, he recognizes the feeling in his gut as jealousy.

soos got on fantastically with the twins. stan was thrilled to see the three joking together, and tried to quash any fuzzy feelings over it. surely he was glad to have a load off while another adult (the big goober being over twenty still felt strange) could watch out for them. ...he could think more about who exactly he could call his family once he allowed himself to rest.

his dream the afternoon that gideon broke in is strange even for him. his memory of it fades as quickly as most of them do, but during it he's distinctly aware of someones other than him in his mind. some of them feel comfortably familiar- the kid he'd watched grow up and the kids he'd like to- and one feels terrifyingly familiar. he desperately tries to reach them, manages to pat dipper on the back, and is awake in what feels like seconds.

the day that the shack's deed was stolen, stan felt like he hit rock bottom yet again. of course he put on a strong face (out of courtesy) for the kids, and for soos (who probably knew better by now), and for soos' grandmother (who still intimidated him a little), but it was damned hard. thirty years of blood, sweat and tears over that machine, and a flimsy piece of paper with his brother's signature was still all there was keeping him off the street. all that work, added up to nothing. he couldn't help but see it as some kind of confirmation.

his dreams about jail are never pleasant. they're never true to life (though his memories of it are bad enough): something always twists partway through into some vast structure or impossibly tight space. they make him wake up nervous and ashamed.

he wouldn't say it to anyone, but stan loved cooking for other people. part of it was that he only ever ate enough to keep him moving when he was living alone (even well after things had settled in the shack). if it was for someone else, he actually thought about what the food would taste like, and, shockingly, he usually enjoyed it more. stan discovered this a while after soos started working there, but having the kids actually living at the house (not just there after school or whenever soos wanted to come over before his shift started), he was getting a lot more practice. it was nice.

stan dreams of being small and exhausted. he's giddy, he hasn't had an opportunity like this in decades- no, centuries! he runs around banging into every sharp object he can find, gleeful to have a new sucker to discard. the glee barely fades as the blue flames burn him out to wakefulness.

he makes bacon and eggs for breakfast.

later that day, he saw mabel stitching a sock puppet with her own face. he raised an eyebrow, but when she grinned at him he smiled back.

[yezielmoore]

Day 12: Extra Credit.

Wait, what it that noise? Oh look, it's canon falling off the rails, whoops!

Kaito's extra bits of the Echo is fantasy synesthesia, with a dash of empathy. When someone talks or makes noise he sees that as colors that best represent their soul. Much less intense is the flavors he tastes that he asociates with each person he meets and change sligthly with strong feelings.

~.~.~

Prompt: Adversary.

n. one that contends with, opposes, or resists: an enemy or opponent.

He isn’t sure what he's seeing and tasting at first, in those first weeks after being dropped off in Limsa Lominsa by Hana, who was deep blue and pink with bursts of yellow and whose words tasted like that green tea from her homeland. He still remembers the bitter tang her parting words left in his tongue, the same he tasted each and every time she checked on him while pretending she was doing other, more important, things and he was a pit-stop.

Hana had been terribly confusing.

It takes him a while to figure out the basics beyond see and taste words and sounds. He realizes that people are palettes and no two persons have the same color combination or hue, it is as good as having a personal ID on everyone he meets. He doesn't figure out the taste for the longest time, not until Ifrit, when those tempered went… wrong. Their colors smothered under the same hue as the primal and all their individual flavors taking on the same sweet/rotten tang. It had been incredibly disturbing and disconcerting at the time, but be had put together a theory afterwards.

Even so, he hadn't realized this strange ability of his was anything to write home about. So he can see sounds, what of it? It's not very useful, now is it? In identifying those tempered, sure, but unless someone pulls a switcheroo, why would it matter?

'Why indeed', he thinks wryly as he enters the Solar in the Walking Sands and stops dead in his tracks, eyes immediately zeroing on the anomaly in their midst.

“My friend, welcome…” Minfilia greets him with her customary warm smile, which falters when she sees his expression. “Is aught amiss?”

“Yes, yes there is,” Kaito says calmly, far more calm than he feels. He prowls forwards, eyes fixed unerringly on Thancred, who raises an eyebrow in a wordless question. “Let’s start easy with the easy question. Who the fuck are you?”

Around this strange stand-off the other scions, already worried at his uncharacteristically hostile actions, all tense in alarm. They are uncertain and he can't really blame them. Fond of him as they are, Thancred has been one of them for much, much longer. However, for reasons that aren’t entirely clear to him, they trust him a lot more than he would have dared believe, newcomer that he is. It’s for this reason that they don’t immediately jump on him, choosing instead a watch and see approach.

For his part, Thancred's eyes widen at the accusation, the shock in his expression completely genuine. He has caught the interloper by surprise it seems, but instead of the worry and alarm that Kaito would expect Thancred to betray in the face of an accusation such as this, all he sees behind the façade is an icy cold and shrewd intelligence that is now entirely focused on him. He can practically feel those eyes dissecting him and rapidly reassessing the situation. It’s unnerving on the extreme.

Not that the real Thancred isn’t smart and sharp as a tack, he's definitely one of the smartest people Kaito knows, and he can be ruthless, certainly, but Thancred isn’t cold like this. If the minute shuffling and the taste of stale dark chocolate on his tongue is anything to go by, then Y'shtola has also noticed the discrepancy.

“Now, why would you think that?” ‘Thancred’ asks with a worried air about him and a shake of his head. “Did you perchance have some peculiar encounter on your travels? I wouldn’t put it past our robed foes to concoct something while you were on your own.”

The words confirm it. Like will-o'-wisps, they paint the air around 'Thancred' with colors… a fiery red crossed with bright orange and stabbed everywhere with a deep virulent purple. It is utterly unlike the warm pink, orange and soft yellow threaded with cool blue that Kaito has come to associate with Thancred, either a sunrise or a sunset, constant all the same. Everything about the stranger's colors is more, somehow, deeper and richer. Saturated to the point of provoking a headache.

As the wisps fade away, they leave behind a strong aftertaste of burnt sugar. Kaito clicks his tongue, as if that would serve to dislodge the sensation.

This… ability or whatever, it isn’t something Kaito has thought too deeply about, not when other matters had been so pressing at the time. He should have given the matter more consideration. At the very least he should have given his allies a heads up, because he probably is coming off as addled if not deranged to everyone minus the imposter who is probably laughing at him.

"Aye, but unlike Thancred I was never on my own, was I? I was surrounded by people all the time and then I hitched a ride with the aetherytes in between. Unless you're suggesting our foes can pluck people from the aether currents, then I don’t see how I could've had a tête-à-tête with them." He glares at the other man who has the gall to look disturbed. Everyone else is still on edge and Kaito knows, knows, they’ll run out of patience soon. He can only hope the intruder is as short-sighted as the other robed fool they met. "The difference is like day and night; you look nothing like Thancred."

Finally, for some reason, it is this what makes the stranger drop the charade. His alert but not-quite-tense posture changes and the bewildered air around him immediately morphs into one of utter menace. It's like seeing a housecat shed its skin and turn into a chimera while sitting on your lap.

The scions, who had remained guarded but made no move for or against the proceedings, immediately ready their weapons, the sounds exploding in a rainbow of colors that is strangely calming in their familiarity. It's Urianger, ever watchful and cautious Urianger, that gently tugs a shocked and vulnerable Minfilia closer to him, a topaz carbuncle bursting into existence in front of them both at his silent command.

Kaito's axe, always close at hand, is now drawn and pointed at the enemy wearing a friend's face.

“Well, well, well, color me impressed.” This time the wisps don’t just float around, they practically lash out, glowing so violently that for a moment Kaito is afraid they will gain tangibility and wreck everything. He gags as the taste of burnt sugar turns into sweet charcoal. “That one of you broken creatures could have such an unusual Echo in this pitiful age. Hydaelyn’s chosen, no less!” With liquid grace, not-Thancred stalks closer until his chest is touching Kaito’s axe, seemingly unconcerned about the threat. “Tell me, adventurer, do you really think you can stop me?”

Kaito grits his teeth against the sensory overload and the headache that pounds away inside his skull, a retort full of bravado already on his tongue. Before he can answer, however, a fireball whizzes past his ear, forcing not-Thancred to retreat.

“It’s not just him you have to contend with, fiend,” Papalimo warns, coffee cookies washing away the rage and death that choked him before. Aether gathers and swirls around the thaumaturge as he prepares another spell. A spell that never comes as Yda takes the opening her partner gave her and uses it to land an impressive combo full of punches and kicks that would have broken bones on any normal man.

Unfortunately, whoever this impostor is, normal he is not.

Disappearing and then reappearing closer to the door, he looks at each of the scions until his gaze zeroes once more on Kaito.

“So it seems,” he acknowledges with a bored air that is simply galling and has all of them bristling without meaning to. “Enjoy your futile resistance while you can then.”

“Wait!” Minfilia cries out from behind the protection the combatants provided. She’s pale and her knuckles are white from clutching the edge of her desk. “Is Thancred… What did you do to him?!”

Not-Thancred smirks. It’s an expression that has always been at home in Thancred’s face, fond and mischievous and always a bit flirty, but right now is full of malice. “Who knows.”

And then he is gone.

[brywrites]

Flight Risk IX

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part IX: In which a profiler and a pilot try their best not to care, featuring an incredibly tacky hotel.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous |  Next )

----

The case closes. When it’s time to go home, Reid sees her leaning against the wall of the hangar with a book. Their eyes meet. He stops walking, frozen to the ground. And in response, she walks away and disappears into the jet. Neither of them knows what to say. She gives herself over to the sky, he loses himself in paperwork. The jet has never felt so big. Like there are miles between them instead of just mere feet.

Y/N thinks of Peter Pan. “The moment you doubt whether you can fly you cease for ever to be able to do it.” She doesn’t know what they are to each other anymore. Are they still friends? Were they ever at all? Was Arthur right all along? Maybe she simply is made for staying, not with her airplane heart. Hopelessly circling, never quite finding a place to land.

Reid has never had to do this before, to hurt someone in this way. He’s not sure how to reach out to her after putting this distance in place. And so he doesn’t. It doesn’t ease the loneliness. Only Garcia notices the change, when he stops talking about her.

“She told you how she felt, didn’t she?” Penelope asks, her cheerful smile deflating. Reid averts his gaze. The pained look on Garcia’s face mirrors the ache in his chest. “Oh, Reid,” she says. “Do you really still believe that you’re not allowed to be happy?”

“But you looked so happy together,” Yeeqin laments when Y/N tells her what happened. “I just don’t get it.” She and her girlfriend Saoirse offer to key his car, an offer Y/N promptly refuses. They’re both hurting enough as is. And besides, knowing Yeeqin she’d vandalize the wrong car and need someone to bail her out. After the “graffiti incident of 2014,” Y/N has no interest in doing so again.

And so they stay away. Things return to the way they always were – pilots and profilers. Two separate worlds on the same G550 jet. The only exchanges are simply pleasantries or requests from the team to the pilots, but they never come from Reid. Or announcements about takeoff and landing that almost always come from Captain Dobson. On the rare occasions when Y/N’s voice floods into the cabin, he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine that she’s speaking only to him. Sometimes when the agents disembark from the plane, she watches him go from the cockpit window and tries to remember what it was like when they sat so close.

He stops arriving early. She stops reading in the hangar if she’s not on the jet. They both pretend it’s normal. They both pretend it’s possible for them not to care. That it’s easy, that it doesn’t bother them one bit to be apart like this. That it wasn’t better before.

Y/N goes to dinner at Arthur and Malik’s house. Martin and Theresa are there and she runs around the yard with their older children, Carolyn and Benedict, and coos over baby Douglas. They share cocktails and swap stories and it feels so good to be surrounded by her own team, this makeshift family of aviators. She has movie nights in with Yeeqin and goes out with her and Saoirse anytime they invite her along and it’s so nice to be among friends. But then Martin looks at Theresa with all the love in the world and Saoirse falls asleep on Yeeqin’s shoulder in the cab on the way home and it’s acutely apparent to her that something is missing in her life.

Reid distracts himself with work and with books and tells himself that he’s always been just fine this way, with words and obligations instead of laughter over takeout or meetings at coffee shops. But then he discovers Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in his bottom desk drawer at work, the copy she’d loaned to him and he’d sworn he would remember to give back to her and suddenly he’s trying not to cry in the bullpen and he doesn’t quite know why.

She learns from Arthur, who knew him, that Spencer’s mentor has been killed. And she can see on their next case that he’s hurting. The sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion evident in his slumped posture makes her want to run to him and wrap him in a hug, hold him close like he held her that night on the couch. But she’s not supposed to care about him anymore.

He sees the way she looks back at him as she boards the jet that day, her eyes lingering on him for just a fraction too long, and he thinks that just maybe she’s going to say something to him. But she doesn’t and he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. Either way, Gideon’s death seems only to prove his theory – the people he loves get hurt.

When they come home from the bombing case in Indianapolis, he’s drained from a week of mourning and a grueling chess match with Rossi. As Reid stands in the hangar searching for his keys in his bag, he hears, “Doctor Reid,” and turns to see Captain Dobson standing a few feet away.

“Yes?” he asks.

The captain opens his mouth, falters, and then says, “I’m sorry for your loss.” The sentiment is confusing, as he already told Reid this as he boarded the plane three days earlier. But perhaps Dobson has forgotten the conversation. So he thanks the captain and continues on his way.

Y/N and Reid seek solace in their friends, in their books, in the places that make them feel safe. And they try so hard to convince their hearts that they don’t feel anything that they wonder if it was ever even real to begin with. And for a little while, they almost believe it.

But then comes Nashville.

---

“Did you see the picture Martin sent of baby Douglas in his pilot’s cap?” Y/N asks.

“I did,” Arthur says. “It was cute.”

“The cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she insists. “I wish he could bring the kids by for a visit sometime, I’m sure they’d love to check out the jet. Do you remember being a kid and how they’d let you go visit the flight deck and see how a plane worked? And they’d give you those little plastic pilots wings?”

“Relics of a bygone era,” Arthur sighs. “I’m sure I still have a pair of PanAm Junior Pilot wings stashed in a box somewhere.” The millennium ushered in a new vision of aviation security and sharp pins and strangers in the cockpit simply aren’t considered protocol anymore. “How are we looking?”

Y/N glances at the altimeter and airspeed indicators. “Flying at 46,000 feet. Currently at Mach point nine. Should be about one hour and ten minutes to destination.”

“Let the cabin now we’ve reached out cruising altitude, will you?” Arthur asks. Typically it’s her job to shift the jet into cruise while Arthur makes the announcement, but she nods and takes the speaker.

“Good afternoon passengers, this is your co-pilot speaking. We��ve reached our cruising altitude of 46,000 feet. At this time please feel free to resume using electronic devices and move about the cabin. We expect to be landing in Nashville in about an hour. Skies are clear, should be smooth sailing ahead. In-flight refreshments will not be served, but you’re welcome to help yourselves to anything stocked in the galley.”

A part of her wonders if he thinks of her when he hears her voice. Not that it should matter anymore. Before she can lose herself in her own thoughts, Arthur asks, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

“Lincoln,” she decides after a moment to think. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Arthur says, “The Terminator,” without missing a beat. The captain is well-versed in cinema, which makes Double Feature one of his favorite in-flight games. The first movie must always be a question, and whoever can come up with the best films in response is declared the winner. Arthur almost always wins, and it’s a challenge to think up films they haven’t already used.

“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?”

“Hannibal.”

“That’s terrible,” Arthur laughs.

“Dude, Where’s My Car?”

“Brokeback Mountain.”

“Oof, that’s gonna be a long and sad trek to retrieve it,” she sighs. “I’m not prepared for that kind of emotional devastation.” But the game does help to take her mind off of what she’s really feeling. She can lose herself in words and not in wishes. They land GEFF gently on the tarmac in Nashville and when they pull around to the hangar, she doesn’t look out the side window. Y/N stares straight ahead at the horizon. The sky fades from deep royal blue to soft pale periwinkle where the distant skyline rises up to meet it and she loves every single shade in between.

Once the team has departed, she and Arthur walk through the cabin tidying up and making note of anything that needs to be cleaned or restocked prior to takeoff. Arthur won Double Feature (“O Brother Where Art Thou?” “Soylent Green.” “Oh, that is incredibly twisted!”) so it’s her turn to clean the bathroom. Fortunately a short flight like this means it’s fairly clean to begin with. She wipes sanitizes the sink and toilet, empties the paper towel bag, makes sure there’s enough soap and toilet paper. Garbage is deposited in the trash can at the back of the hangar and they return to Geff to grab their own go-bags.

“Listen, Y/L/N,” Arthur says as they lock the cockpit door. “About the IRT job.”

“Arthur,” she cuts him off. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” When he looks as though he’s about to protest she adds, “Please. I just want to go to hotel and take a nap and watch whatever silly romcom is on pay per view.”

He nods and says nothing more. They catch a rideshare from the airport together and she stares out the window at the buildings and billboards that line the roads. She already knows what she’s going to do about the offer. She made her decision after her conversation with Spencer. The choice was clear. But she doesn’t want to discuss it yet. She’s not ready.

They step into the lobby of the Graduate Hotel and her mouth falls open. It’s hideous. There’s a fuzzy tapestry – a fuzzy tapestry of a woman with a hat against a pink background that appears to be made out of the same material as a shag rug. The lamps at the concierge desk have hot pink floral patterns on them. A neon installation that looks similar to a vintage gas station sign announces vacancies in bright green and red light. The armchairs are blue velvet and the hanging lights look like tulle skirts. There’s too much happening at once.

“This is the ugliest hotel I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“Well the more affordable ones were nearly full – evidently this is a big weekend for admitted students at Vanderbilt – they had to double up all of the rooms for the team. But the Bureau managed to get us a discount here,” Arthur replies as they stand at the desk waiting for someone to check them in.

“I suppose a bunch of special agents wouldn’t blend in well at a place like this,” she admits. Hopefully they solve the case quickly and she’s not stuck here too long. True to her word she spends the first night relaxing in her room. The bathroom is beautiful – black walls with gold accents and a glass shower. The room itself is another story. The carpet is a rainbow of jewel-toned diamonds in a quilt-like pattern. The walls are pink and white striped, a candelabra sits next to a pink television. White curtains with a vibrant floral pattern line the window and form a hanging behind the bed. The bed, mercifully, has the standard white blankets and white pillows, though there is hot pink chevron quilt draped over the end and an eerie portrait of Dolly Parton stares at her from above the headboard. Y/N shudders.

Penelope Garcia calls her that evening. She’s waiting to hear back from the team and could use some virtual company. “I don’t even know if you’d like this place,” Y/N tells her. “It’s so garishly tacky. Like a sorority girl and her antique-collecting grandmother chose items from their storage closet at random.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” Garcia says.

“Penelope, I am ever the optimist. I love quirky, whimsical adventures. But this is something else. The Dolly Parton painting keeps staring at me, I swear!”

“Let me look it up.” There is the sound of fingers frantically typing on a keyboard. “Oh come on now, the lobby is way cute! And the patio? I just – oh. Oh my. Oh those rooms. You’re right. That’s bad. That’s very bad.”

“I told you!”

“That went from cute to crikey very quickly,” she agrees. After takeout for dinner and watching Serendipity, Y/N falls asleep under the unnervingly watchful eye of Dolly. The next day is completely free, and she heads out to explore the city. Wherever she ends up, she tries to take advantage of the adventures available to her. Just blocks from the hotel she discovers Nashville’s Parthenon – a full-scale replica of the Greek temple which hides an art museum inside. She wanders the galleries and stands at the entrance staring up at the pillars holding the roof up. What would it be like to visit the real thing? She wonders how many times the IRT has gone to Greece before. Maybe they’ll end up in Athens sometime this year.

Café Coco is the cutest coffee shop she’s seen in any city, and she grabs tea and a scone before returning to Centennial Park. Beneath the barely blossoming trees she sits and reads Dandelion Wine. It’s beautifully written and full of longing. That longing seeps through the pages and she can feel it in her bones. Nostalgia for times past and places far behind and things that cannot be. Everything that Spencer said it would be. As she reads she tries to imagine which lines would have made him smile or elicited a wistful sigh. Are the parts she loves most the same as the parts he loves most?

Her phone buzzes with a text form Arthur to ask if she wants to get lunch together at the hotel bar, and she shoves the book and her longing back in her bag and walks over to meet him.They step from the tacky lobby into a bar that seems remarkably normal. String lights and chandeliers cast an inviting ambient glow over the wooden tables and chairs. Country music is playing over the speakers. But as they she and Arthur move closer towards an open table, she sees it. The stage.

“What is that?” she asks. There’s a bear, a pig, and a fox in a wig atop a stage that says Cross-Eyed Critters. Each holds an instrument. And it’s then that she realizes the music is coming from them. It’s an animatronic band. Their eyes and mouths move as they sing and their fabricated bodies turn and jerk with the beat. “What?” she asks again, completely dumbfounded. “What?”

Arthur too is speechless. Then he shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing a drink or two won’t make more palatable.” She snaps a photo on her phone and texts it to Garcia, who will surely get a kick out of it.

As they sit down, a voice announces a new song over the speakers. A slightly tipsy looking man in a pair of red cowboy boots comes to stand in front of the stage. He has a microphone. The animatronics begin to play the opening notes of a song, and then the man begins to sing. This is not just a bar with an animatronic band, it’s an animatronic karaoke bar. The man in the red boots belts out an uncomfortably off-key version of a Kenny Rogers song –“You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run!”– with just a little too much bravado.

“I think I’ll need that drink sooner rather than later,” Arthur admits begrudgingly. She has to laugh. This hotel, it seems is full of surprises. But the captain is right. When she receives a spiked cream soda and Arthur has a glass of bourbon and there’s a plate of tacos between them, it’s easier to tune out the karaoke band. She can just enjoy her drink and the light and the stories of Arthur’s first flights with the BAU that have her nearly in tears from laughing so hard. For someone who maintains such a serious demeanor most of the time, he knows how to tell a joke incredibly well. She’s always appreciated that about him.

“Y/N, there is something I wanted to talk with you about,” Arthur says. His tone changes and she knows the time for joking is over. “We need to discuss the IRT offer.” Before he can continue, her phone rings. She glances at the screen. It’s Penelope. Y/N sends it to voicemail. There will be time to discuss the disconcerting robot band later when she’s back in her room. Right now, she needs to focus on Arthur. She knows where this is going and he’s right. She can’t keep putting this off forever. She has to talk about this, and everything that it means.

“I’ve already made my decision,” she begins to say. But her phone begins to ring again, and her heart drops into her stomach. This isn’t about the picture. This is urgent. Arthur must realize it too. His eyes trail down to her phone and she hesitantly picks it up.

“It’s Garcia,” she tells him, before answering. “Hello?”

“Y/N, oh thank goodness you picked up.” The analyst’s voice is a little higher than usual, a little more strained. “It’s Reid. He’s in the hospital.”

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Linktober Day 23: Zelda

I’m haunted by the ethereal. The world was too beautiful when I watched.

I barely remember how to pick up a pen, though surprisingly my handwriting still fairs better than Link’s, but I simply must put the thoughts to words.

Or attempt to, that is.

It’s all a memory, it’s all a dream. Every plant that grew and died. Every stone that fell and crumbled. I was there, I saw and felt, mere 100 years of time.

My father would have said it was her, the Goddess, it was her that I was channeling. The omniscient, the omnipresence, the flickering of dawn and dusk, like a candle in the study. The theory might have been probable, if it weren’t for the fact that I knew I were truly and utterly unknowing.

I thought it was death. I thought it was a curse. I couldn’t move, and yet I drifted and saw. I couldn’t close my eyes, but I whispered and spoke. And I struggled and fought and felt and heard. I would look at the ruins of villages and see my failure, and I would look at that Shrine and see my hope.

I deserved it, the pain.

How many lives have lived before me, bearing names an echo of my own? How many people believed in my for nothing? How many died because of my ignorance to the simple truth and identity of love? If I had the will, I would curse the Goddess for giving me this duty. It’s not enough that I was a child doomed to fail, doomed to legends and gods of old. I had to be tacked on and compared, to a list older than history. What worlds exist where I was another? Where I was capable? Where I was Zelda, Queen of a Kingdom still standing? All but me. Tens and hundreds and thousands of Zelda’s, the only consistency being victory— after all, I exist today, don’t I?

I wish I didn’t, in truth. When I drifted in the wilds and ruins for a hundred years, waiting for hope and waiting for change. When I look at the breaking of the sky, between the blushes of pink and blue, and the choking of malice and ash. When I felt the shiver of all winters, and the caress of every spring. When I felt the ache— the ache that didn’t belong to a body, just the simple pain and ache and sorrow that I felt as I tugged against the rage of a mindless Calamity. When I saw, and felt, and went, I thought, “surely I do not exist.”

When I lived another lifetime, my presence was always noted. My hair was brushed long and proper, long and elegant and royal. My trim and clothes that glittered, my boots crafted for comfort. My voice that commanded in tone meant for power, and my eyes that gave away my fear. Poised and unfeeling, unfeeling, unfeeling— a Royal is symbol of strength.

My presence was always noted, for there was the Princess of failure.

My pretense was noted and then it wasn’t. My mistakes caught up to me on that day, and I faced an entity and drifted in every corner of the world. I wonder if the Calamity saw like that too? I was in the wind and in the waters and in the hearth of every broken family’s fire. I don’t exist. This was punishment. A sick twist of a reward. My presence isn’t there anymore.

Or so I thought. And so I thought. All I could do was think.

Days. Months. Years. Now that I am here, the time is all a blur. You can’t remember the details of dreams.

I thought I didn’t exist, but my memory is certain about one thing.

On the day he emerged and stood on the grass, he knew I was there.

It was slow, it was peculiar, but the acknowledgement was there. The acknowledgement that someone he knew was waiting and watching over him.

Sometimes the forest would creak in the wind, and he would look up and gaze around for company. Sometimes the rain would drizzle on his back, and when he lifted cape to cover himself, there was always room for two. I would whisper something about the moon, and he would nod and smile in strength. I would look at his face as he walked, and he would blush as the sudden warmth of the air.

Once, he saw the stars and said my name.

I felt those words. Every word he dared utter, I felt, and embraced, and cherished.

Then the final day came, and I felt the world fade.

I stood, I stood. For once I stood in victory.

We plan to travel, now that it’s all ended. Or ending, I should say. We have to make our presence known, we have to bring about a rebirth, through the means of our strength and our knowledge— not that of failing gods

And today I saw the world for the first time in a hundred years. In my dreams, I compare the sky to the view I remember at the castle. In my sleep I compare the touch of cotton garments, to the feel of a canopy of forests.

And today I looked in the mirror, and saw a princess. Unfeeling, unfeeling, unfeeling. I understand why he stayed silent.

Scissors? Well. He has a sword doesn’t he?

We have a long road to walk, so I’ve decided to take a weight off my shoulders. I’m sure Link would appreciate the pun

I can’t wait to feel the wind in my hair.

I can’t wait to feel.