#i'm still used to desktop even though i have a better phone now

[spongemetal-bobchemist]

god i just remembered how it used to be that most tumblr users used desktop and the app was like...a joke? like barely useable, iirc you couldn't even tag things...anyways crazy how it's flipped now where desktop is unusable garbage so most people just use the app

[andmaybegayer]

After I deleted a bunch of projects (thankfully non-critical, though representing a great deal of work in total) during a recent fresh OS install, I realized that my backup practices are practically non-existent. Any tips or sources on getting started making, and eventually automating, effective backups?

I am stealing the concept here from jwz's backup guide, but I am recommending different tools, focusing on personal files only, and also addressing Windows. jwz's guide is a good reference:

Doing a way, way better job than most people of backing up one single system is very easy. Let us begin.

The most basic step of having decent backups is getting your hands on two external hard drives at least big enough to hold your entire system, and putting a label on them that says "BACKUP ONLY DO NOT USE FOR ANYTHING ELSE I AM BEING FOR REAL HERE"

Once you've got those, plug one into your system wherever it spends the most time. If you have a desktop then that's solved, if it's a laptop hopefully you already have a USB hub you plug it into when you sit down to work or whatever and you can just leave it there.

Now set up regular scheduled backups to that device. On Windows and Mac, there's a built in tool for backing up your system to an external drive. We'll assume that you just want to back up your user files on Windows and Linux, since doing full system backups isn't tricky but is kind of unnecessary.

(Ugh. Windows seems to be trying to phase out Windows Backup and Restore in favour of their File History thing. That's annoying, let me log in to windows and check how this actually works. Mac in the meantime)

Mac has Time Machine. Time Machine is extremely good, and you can tell Time Machine to save its backups to a disk. Point Time Machine at your external hard drive and tell it to schedule a backup however frequently you want. If anything goes wrong in the future, you can ask Time Machine to look at that backup disk and it'll show you a few versions of whatever you backed up there. I'm not a Mac user but I think you can even use Time Machine to transfer between an old computer and a new one.

Windows now has File History which I have never used in my life, they added it after I stopped using Windows. Same idea though, pick some folders and back them up to an external storage device. If anything goes wrong, use File History to go back through that device and find the version of the file you wanted. I don't know if there's still a way to access the older Backup and Restore system.

On Linux, my favoured way to manage simple desktop backups is Deja Dup, a GUI for Duplicity. Duplicity can do a lot more than just backup to a disk, but we'll start there. Install Deja Dup, open it up, and follow the prompts to back up your user files to the external drive. Deja Dup can also do backups to remote storage servers, Google Drive/Onedrive, and commercial storage providers like Amazon and Backblaze. It will even encrypt your backups if you are worried about Amazon spying on your files or whatever. If something goes wrong, point Deja Dup at your backup drive and it will offer you a suite of restore options covering a few versions.

Now, you have a permanently plugged in hard drive that will always get rolling backups you can restore from. These aren't safe from, say, ransomware, or your house burning down, but at least you won't lose anything when you update a computer or accidentally delete something and have an ohshit moment.

Now you take that other drive you bought, and do the same backup you're already doing to that. Now you go put it somewhere else where it's readily accessible and won't be accidentally used for anything, keep it at the office, give it to your dad, whatever. Set a reminder on your phone for once a month. Once a month, go get that drive, run another backup, and put it back. You now have better backups than many medium sized businesses.

This is impractical to scale beyond one PC, but if we're being honest even when I had like half a dozen laptops, only one contained much of value. Back up the system you care about.

Don't worry too much about making sure your backups are space efficient, like, yeah it would be a good idea to exclude game installs and stuff from your backups to save space but if that sounds daunting or time consuming literally do not do it. Decision paralysis is brain poison, just back it up and sort it out later. 2TB external hard drives are cheap.

FURTHER STEPS YOU CAN TAKE:

Easy Cloud backup: Backblaze personal backup on Windows and Mac is $6/month and pretty easy to use. If you are struggling to keep track of a monthly remote backup, or you want an easy remote backup. Backblaze is a reasonably reliable company and one of the Go To Companies in the world of data reliability. Yes, it's a cloud subscription. If you don't want that don't use it.

Network backup: If you have access to a storage server, that can be a good way to make a remote backup without having to shuttle disks around. That could be a physical server if you maintain some kind of lab, or it could be a cloud storage provider like Backblaze B2 or Onedrive or whatever. Deja Dup specifically supports backing up to a lot of different network storage providers, and even if you only have a fifty or sixty gigabytes of network storage on hand, your most essential personal files can probably fit in there.

Drive failures: Eventually one of your drives will fail, either your storage drive or your backup drive. If the storage drive fails, well, that's what the backup is for, go get a replacement and restore from the backup. If your backup drive fails, well, that's why you have two of them. As soon as humanly possible go get a replacement drive, and substitute it in for the dead one.

[blackjackkent]

Writing Interview Tag Game

I was tagged by @ra-scheln - thank you! :D

When did you start writing?

A looooooong time ago. Haha. As a kid there was a several year period where I thought I wanted to be an author as a career, and always liked writing even after I moved on to other plans. The stuff I wrote as a kid is mostly lost to time, although I do still have the Google doc of a “novel” I wrote for my senior English project in high school. I haven't had the courage to look at it for a long time because it is uh. Not Good. :P (No judgment on my past self - we become better through trying and learning. But it would probably be unrecognizable compared to my writing now.) 

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Sort of? I like reading scifi and fantasy and the majority of my writing has also been in those genres. But I also like reading things like regency romance, historical fiction, very specific types of horror, etc. that I have no real interest in trying to replicate. 

Can you tell me about your writing space?

Sometimes I write on my phone flopped on the couch - that's how I'm writing my answers to these questions in fact! I'm a pretty fast phone typist but it's still a slower process, though, so when I really want to buckle down I usually go to my desktop computer which is in the office. Right now it's a big wooden corner desk but I'd like to replace it with a couple of smaller ones that are more easy to maneuver and put cool rgb lights on for the Gamer Aesthetic. XD

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Lately as I've been trying to write more consistently, I've been having a lot of luck with this web app called 4thewords.com. It's a bit of gamification but the main thing I like about it is you pick an amount of time and a word goal and it sets a timer for you and it has proved REALLY effective for forcing me to just get words down on paper. The first draft is the hardest for me by far and it's been often really useful for getting over that hump. So lately I'll set myself up for 500-1000 words or so per day of “battles” and that gets me the forward momentum that I'm trying to maintain. 

That said, I'm also trying to be better about not forcing myself to write when it's just not coming at all. I don't want to burn myself out. 

Are there any recurring themes in your writing?

I am sure the answer is yes but it's hard for me to distinctly identify them. (I'd be interested in hearing reader answers to this question.)

Off the top of my head, though - missing scenes, mutual pining, struggles with emotional control. I think one major thing is that, as someone who missed my prime dating years due to the Big Sad, a lot of my characters do have an underlying thread of finding love/fulfillment/connection despite obstacles, later in life, or when they feel they don't deserve it or don't know how to do it. 

What is your reason for writing?

The same reason I was almost an actor, the same reason I like making people laugh on my stream. Hell, even the same reason I like programming and making software that improves someone's day. 

I like making people feel things. I like seeing their reaction to something I've done and hearing that it evoked something in them. This is the most fundamental human connection in my opinion. 

Is there any kind of specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Honestly, any time someone takes time out of their day to leave any type of comment at all, it's guaranteed to make my whole week. But in keeping with my previous answer - my favorite comments are ones where I get to hear about how I affected the reader's emotions, or where they mention particular parts that really struck them. Those always make me really happy. c:

How do you want to be thought about by your readers? 

Interesting question. I think… as someone who is good with character voices and keeps tight hold of the fundamental core of the characters even when putting them in different situations. Someone who can manage both angst and humor well. Once again, I'd like people to look forward to what I write because they know it's gonna make them feel something that they enjoy. 

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character voices and dialogue. I've been told I've been very good at catching the cadence of different characters, and some of my favorite things to write have been just bouncing those voices off each other and seeing what happens. I think this is really the pillar on which all the rest of my work is able to stand bc the characters feeling like themselves makes the rest have more impact. 

How do you feel about your own writing?

This really depends on when you catch me, haha. Some days I'm really proud of it, and some days I have a hard time seeing anything good in it. Currently in a bit of a trough of overthinking it, but I’m lucky to have a couple readers who are v supportive which helps. <3 Overall though I think I do a good job and have some interesting stories out there and in my to-do list. (I also tend to way over-compare myself to other people in the fandom; there are so many incredible writers around here that it's hard to put myself next to them.)

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

A mix of both, I suppose? Certainly in picking what I want to write about I am thinking primarily about what I would find fun to write and not about what has a “market” in the fandom per se. But I also am lucky enough to have found other people who do enjoy the same characters as I do and enjoy my take on them, and in that sense I am definitely often more excited about a particular idea because I know one or more of my friends would be excited to read it. :D So both things are definitely a factor. 

-----

Tagging: @writer86 @rhysintherain @bardic-inspo @thedarkstrategist (and anyone else who wants to do this honestly)

[ritz-writes]

Okay, so I'm gonna be going onto mobile for a bit, even though I'm not at all happy about it (i have trouble typing on my phone). But this clown was the last straw.

BUT for those of you who are still going to use desktop, there is a way to get rid of the clown temporarily.

If you right click on the bitch, click inspect, then hit backspace it will delete smth in the script. The clown will go away, but only for that session. As soon as you refresh the page, it will come back. And you have to repeat the process again. But as of right now, it's better than nothing.

Tumblr. Listen to your userbase for once. The fuck man.

[hertwood]

I’m interested as to why all of your docs are .hemmingway (but seriously though ot3 wip plsss)

oooooooh SO hemingway is an app i bought years ago. there is a free version online but i dont recommend it bc since then they've gotten new ai features and i dont want yalls work being eaten by an AI bot :( the desktop app does not have ai features so i should be good~

ANYWAY the appeal of hemingway sans AI is that it highlights different issues in different colors, adverbs are in blue and run on sentences are in yellow or red, etc, etc. i like how the highlighted sections/words break up the writing and make it easier to look at, even if ignore the suggestions. i dont really care about using too many adverbs, but w/ run on sentences it's good to at least just know what sentences i should look at again to see if it's worth changing to be simpler. otherwise i just like it aesthetically lmao

ANYWAY OT3 WIP. this was actually my first ever f1 wip and i think it shows :/ i still like the idea but i was still so new to f1 and getting to know everyone and i'm not happy with the characterization of them anymore.

the ship was max/daniel/lando not as a triad but as a V, maybe going towards a triad? i hadn't decided. it was a normal people au where max and daniel are nesting partners, and daniel brings lando home w/o warning leading to a less than optimal first impression when max comes home, tired and grumpy after work:

Max realizes later he didn’t even introduce himself, needs to ask Daniel later what his name is. It’s all Daniel’s fault, of course, that Max has made a bad first impression. One of the many reasons they have a rule to warn each other when they’re bringing someone home. It’s not a flawless system, like last month when Daniel’s phone had died, didn't see Max's text, and he’d come home to Max fucking Charles over a kitchen counter. So, Max supposes he’s lucky that his first encounter with Lando hadn’t been worse. Daniel is much more of a serial dater of the two. Max works a 9-5, it takes up more of his time and he's less of a romantic anyway. Daniel works freelance, easy to drop everything when he meets someone new. Max doesn't mind the discrepancy—it works for them and it doesn't really matter what other people might think of it. He hears when Daniel goes out on dates, but they’re not the sort of couple to share a lot of details. At least not until it gets serious. Bringing someone home tends to mean it’s somewhat serious, so Max is surprised he hadn’t heard anything about Lando before. Daniel fills him in: that they’ve been going on dates for a few months now, that he’s an aspiring DJ (Max fights everything in him to not roll his eyes), and so, so, so wonderful, according to Dan. Daniel gets adorably giddy when he's falling in love, something that Max will never get tired of being witness to. He absorbs at least half of the information that Daniel is telling him, and commits to making a much better impression next time he sees Lando. Unfortunately, their next run in turns out equally as awkward.

[neathdarkwcters]

🧃 wed - sun, aug 14 - 18 / i decided to condense the final 5 of my productivity challenge before classes start (i'll be starting sentinel's academic weapon challenge tomorrow) due to how much i'd been working & to reflect on a huge upset to my system: my chromebook stopped turning on.

my days working move-in for dorms was fine. i felt like i was waiting for something to happen as i'm much more used to being one person doing 2 or 3 jobs. i neglected to take a lunch break because i was feeling so overwhelmingly bored and like i wasn't working, a choice i don't think i'll ever make again. i'm hoping with the semester finally starting, i'll have work to fill my downtime. i found myself staring at the door or browsing the school subreddit alot.

i finally tried turning on my chromebook to fill the 30 minutes i had left planning next week and it would not turn on. i panicked because i knew i charged it. i plugged it in when i got home and discovered, yes, it says it's fully charged but still won't turn on. i took it to my local tech repair place to have it looked at on saturday and still haven't heard back. the whole thing has thrown me for a loop - it's my no1 tech piece i use for school. i spent saturday more or less in a rot, and only got up around noon today.

i got into a deep focus doing my chores i'd neglected on Saturday. i plan to practice my DBT at least once a week, as it seems this distress i can't change has still shook me pretty badly. i must remember i have a desktop at home i can use, a phone, and i can rent laptops at school. i can probably survive a week without my chromebook even if i HATE it, and my fafsa award can go towards the repairs for it. i must remember: i'm fine.

in much much better news, my university updated the website we use to view grades. it's so much easier to find my GPA now! one of my big goals in starting this blog was to use it as an accountability tool to raise my cumulative GPA to 3.0. i'm quite close, though it's still an incredibly ambitious goal due to where i'm starting from. it will take very carefully regulating myself emotionally as well as using my time wisely, but i'm committed. i cleaned everything in my house today, made cookies, and after this post i'm going to start making lunch for my first day at school tomorrow!

[yegas]

ughhhh me too. in the past I said I wouldn't mind watching a slice of life about knb, and it's still true now ;-; I tried getting into fujimaki-sensei's other manga about baseball....but eh.. it just didn't hook me.. if it were to become an anime though, I think I'd be interested

I think I need to have a listening spree of the new album hahahaha SAME I feel like with their self-titled, they really found their sound.. for me, it's THAT album that got me into them. I still remember the first time I ever saw Afterlife on MTV and what I was doing and how I reacted (and how I fell in love with Synyster Gates hahahaha) did you have a *favourite* member? ngl, I was a total fangirl for Syn (if my previous statement didn't give it away yet 😂) and I still have a reaaalllyyyyy soft spot for him when I look back at my teenage self, but in its entirety I've definitely grown out of it and just respect each band member as a musician and artist

I wouldn't say it's amazing, but more of a convenience. so if you're on your phone most of the time, it's handy to have. although I preferred it in the past where the customization was minimal lmao just so there are fewer things to fuss about.. now you gotta make a theme for a desktop version AND mobile version.. yeah.. and I think most of the users now prefer to just like stuff or passively scroll through the app.. oh true.. before, a mutual's mutual would more often be in the same fandom as you and it was THAT easy. now, it's hard to even begin where to look.. it's nice to see those old posts from time to time. like it's still alive after all these years 😂 (lol yeah on other social media, a post either dies out or is reposted—which I find really annoying. I see the same post 10 times but from different usernames..like talk about originality) I was on twitter for a while until it became X which sucked 🫤

awww hahaha gotta thank that stray cat 😂

thank you so much, I appreciate it 🥺 I've been doing some journaling.. I guess it's helping.. and just trying to ground myself with things I used to enjoy and surrounding myself with good company. though I really wish there was a fast forward button for recovery

really i didn't know he had a baseball manga! now that you mention baseball, have you seen diamond no ace? i remember watching quite a few episodes but i don't think i finished it, i think it was ongoing back then when i was watching. i wonder if i should get back to it...

DONT TELL ME YOU ALSO DISCOVERED THEM ON MTV LMAOOOO i saw the nightmare video there for the 1st time and got hooked !!! that's so funny, mtv used to be pretty good, found a bunch of bands on there back in the day. and yea i totally get you, syn was definitely the coolest!! i don't think i had a fav member but i found matt the most attractive back when he had super short hair >.> but when i saw them live in 2013 he had long hair so that was unfortunate hahahaha. what other bands are you into?? i've been obsessed with dir en grey lately if you don't know them you gotta check em out trust me on this one :p

wtf a theme for the mobile version, that sounds like a hassle. yep definitely ends up being like the more new features they introduce on social media, the more cumbersome everything gets, cause it seems like they don't even think em through more often than not..

you know what, another thing i find refreshing about tumblr nowadays is the lack of reels/shorts/tiktoks whatever they call short form videos lmao idk abt you but i never really got into them (unless they include some cute animals lol)

it seems like you're handling it in a healthy manner, i'm rly happy to hear that! 🌸 i know what you mean, but you really gotta take it a day at a time, it's gonna be much better for you in the long run than if you were to bottle up everything and "force" healing. you'll see, soon enough you'll be surprised to find yourself not even thinking about the person for several days. it happens naturally somehow, and you'll be an even stronger person mentally for having dealt with everything this way

[eldritchsurveys]

1141.

When did you last eat cheetos? >> I don't eat cheetos

Have you ever talked on the phone more than an hour? >> long long time ago

Have you ever played the sims 3? >> I did play 3. that's the one that I broke by trying to fuck the Grim Reaper

Would you swim with sharks for $5000? >> I can't swim, so no. if I could swim I'd do this for free

Have you ever been to buschgardens? >> haven't

Do you take alot of pictures of yourself? >> I really don't. not even because I don't want to, just because I totally forget that that's even a thing

What color is your house door? >> this is one of those things that I don't ever remember because it's so banal and inconsequential that my memory doesn't see any point in holding onto it

Do you know anybody who is afraid of clowns? >> probably, it seems so common

Do you make a wish on 11:11? >> I do not

What time did you wake up this morning? >> kind of early, actually (considering recent trends)... like 07:30

Were you ever afraid of the dark? >> I was not

Do you have a mirror in your bedroom? >> lol I have those stick-on pseudoglass type dealies on one of my walls and I tried to arrange them in a fun asymmetrical way but that just fucked up the image even more than it'd already be fucked up from being split into squares I got those because I thought it'd be cheaper than buying a regular full-length mirror but I think I was wrong about that + I hate that the image is slightly warped so it wasn't even worth it. better than nothing for now but I definitely plan on replacing it with an actual fkn mirror at my earliest opportunity oh and I also have a small mirror on my vanity that is made to look like a window with a spiderweb in the corner, that's fun

What kinda type of computer do you have? >> the one I'm on right now is a Lenovo and my desktop was built by NZXT

Do you put pepper on mostly everything you eat? >> I sure do

Have you ever seen a zebra? >> at zoos, yeah

When was the last time you had hiccups? >> I have no idea, this rarely happens to me

Do you like extra butter on your popcorn? >> the only way you'll get me to eat popcorn is if you blast it with flavour, so

Have you ever had toe cramps? >> I have

Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? >> probably, I don't eat much of it as it is

What is your favorite kind of icecream? >> Trader Joe's horchata ice cream (which is a limited-run item because of course it is)

Whats your middle name? >> Shadow

How tall are you? >> 5'5" or so

Have you ever got told that you should be a model? >> long time ago but the motives of the people sayin that were of course questionable

What grade are you in?

Do you like the taste of burnt popcorn? >> no way

Is it past 10:00pm? >> it's midafternoon

Do you have a myspace?

Have you ever touched a snake? >> have! I love snakes

Are you good at jump rope? >> I don't think so, considering the last time I jumped rope I was probably still too young to drink. fortunately it is not that hard and I'm sure I'd be fine at it again if I practiced some

Do you wear makeup? >> occasionally

Are you an outgoing or shy person? >> neither

Have you ever seen snow? >> many times

What show did you watch last? >> Frasier

Have you ever had a rolling back pack? >> haven't, even though I really could have used one but... fucking parent -__- "just go to your locker instead" fuck off

Are you cold at the moment? >> my heater is blasting directly at me

What season were you born in? >> spring

Do you wear flip flops almost everyday? >> I wear flip flops almost never

Do you have a person you could tell everything to?

Do you have good taste in clothes? >> I mean, obviously I appreciate my own taste in clothing?? because it's mine??? lmao

[cryptidunknown]

so recently i’ve been kinda having a bad time with my mental health and with christmas break right around the corner i think i’m gonna use this break time to work on my mental health and self care a bit.

there’s a lot of things i need to work on, but the reason i’m here is because one of my biggest problems is social media addiction. specifically tiktok.

i spend most of my day every day hopping from one app to the next, just opening them and scrolling for a bit and not finding anything satisfying and hopping to the next app. i don’t even post on any sites but tumblr, but i have tumblr, tiktok, twitter, facebook, pinterest, reddit, discord, youtube, and snapchat all on my phone and i check all of them several times a day. i don’t even talk to people on discord or snapchat, i just open it compulsively to check the notifications tab (even though i have push notifications on and i rarely get notifs since i don’t actually talk to people) i won’t even watch anything when i open youtube half the time. i don’t tweet and i don’t interact with anyone on facebook. i spend 2-3 hours every day scrolling tiktok and getting nothing out of it. it’s all just escapism and compulsion and, i believe, a genuine addiction. and i think the first step to fixing my mental health issues is to put an end to it.

i’ve tried to stop this before and it hasn’t worked. it doesn’t matter how many times i delete apps or put time limits, i’ll either just find something else to doomscroll or i’ll ignore the time limit entirely.

so this time i'm trying a different tactic. im going to post on here every day (or every other day) to share how much time ive spent on social media that day. I'm hoping this will hold me accountable and give me an actual reason/incentive to spend less time scrolling.

here's the goals/game plan:

no snapchat or discord unless im actually responding to a notification or messaging someone. im leaving them on my phone because i actually do want to use them to make more friends, but im no longer allowed to just open them without reason.

same for youtube, im gonna turn on notifs for my favorite channels so i know im not missing anything and im not allowed to open it unless i actually plan on watching something. same idea with reddit but i might just delete that because the only thing i actually do on there is read r/nosleep

twitter and facebook i actually use to get news and stuff, so im still allowed to check those but i am going to start being conscious of how many times i open them every day

im not deleting tiktok yet because i have a friend or two and my mom who sends me things on there and i like sending things to them. i think for now im gonna just impose a 1-hour time limit on tiktok. this hasnt worked before but i hope it will now since im reporting back to yall. im also required to actually check my dms and the following page when i use it instead of just endlessly scrolling the fyp

tumblr is always allowed because i get actual enjoyment out of it, but i am going to start being more conscious of how many times i open it every day. also am going to make an effort to use it on desktop rather than the app bc i have WAY less problems with scrolling when im on desktop (this goes for all social medias tbh)

a03, my kindle app, podcasts, music, and pretty much anything that involves actually reading or otherwise engaging my brain is always allowed

i think a lot of the reason i turn to social media in the first place is out of boredom and my brain craving easy stimulation. so i think the only way ill be able to successfully avoid compulsively opening social media is to replace it with a less brain-rotting, but still reasonably easy to digest stimulation. I have a couple different ideas for this. ive found that a03 can make a good substitute for that constant stream of content that i crave, and while it may not be the best way to spend hours of my day, binge-reading fanfiction is still better than endlessly scrolling tiktok. so for now at least, a03 is one of my... coping mechanisms is the word i guess. i also picked up the first Heroes of Olympus book from the library and plan to read it over thanksgiving break this week, because it should be easy enough to digest that i dont get bored every few pages and try to open my phone like i do whenever i try to read a book nowdays. my long-term goal is to be able to read properly again, but for now i think a03 and middle grade fiction is a good start. ive also never read HoO and im really excited about it lol. ive also got a knitting project im working on, a podcast im binging (TMA), a few shows i want to catch up on, and games i want to play. im listing these out because they are all easy, digestible forms of entertainment that i can turn to instead of scrolling and get actual enjoyment out of. i know most of them are still just consuming content but right now im just trying to find things to replace endlessly scrolling social media and the things i listed are all things i Actually Enjoy.

this post has gotten very long and sporadic but hopefully i can look back on this post when i need a reminder of how badly doomscrolling and social media addiction affects me and why i need to quit.

im gonna attempt to give a daily update on how much time i spent on social media that day. all posts about this will be tagged as just "#cryptid stops scrolling" in case you wanna block that

and here’s my screen time from last week just to give y’all an idea of where we’re at

[renjuseyo]

I'm the one that ask about poly. I want to make request now if you're okay with it about male reader jihoon and seungcheol. Seungcheol being jealous when reader babied jihoon even though Seungcheol get it most of the time. While jihoon hate it when reader doing that but only whine and do nothing at all. Reader didn't stop because he know Jihoon enjoy it and also watching Seungcheol pouting and making a fuss is one of his entertainment.

pay attention to me ; s.coups & woozi

group: seventeen

pairing: choi seungcheol / lee jihoon / reader (male)

synopsis: just because seungcheol’s dating you two doesn’t make him less jealous when you direct your attention to jihoon, even if he always receives your pampering.

genre: fluff

i hope you liked this anon! i think this is a very cute prompt, and i had fun playing with jicheol’s dynamics. i kind of lost inspo if you couldn’t tell though lol... anyways, feedback is always appreciated!! ^^

age order goes as: seungcheol > reader > jihoon

jihoon: i won’t be home until late, so don’t wait up for me [11:58 PM]

that was sent to you and seungcheol four hours ago. seeing how seungcheol had gotten off work at a decent time (if you consider ten-thirty decent) compared to usual, you had assumed it would be the same for jihoon, too. apparently not.

normally, by the time the clock strikes three am, you would be fast asleep, squished between seungcheol and jihoon. but instead, you’re parking your car outside of the pledis building, with seungcheol struggling to stay awake in the passenger seat. “you know, i could’ve driven here instead,” the older offers, yawning.

you roll your eyes, pushing your door open. “don’t be ridiculous. you can barely keep your eyes open, and you’ve worked all day. driving is the least i could do.”

you two step out of your car. after locking it, you begin walking towards the studio. the dim glow of the lamp posts and the faint twinkle of the stars are your only guides to the entryway, and you’re reminded once again just how late it is when you take in your surroundings. not a single sound can be heard, and the sky above you is blanketed black. what in the world is jihoon doing so late?

(well, there’s only one thing he could be doing this late. but most importantly, why? the members of seventeen are supposed to have the weekend off, so he has plenty of time to finish up any projects.)

once seungcheol unlocks the door, you two trudge inside, yawning. it takes a few minutes for you both to find jihoon’s studio, but it isn’t hard to spot. in the dark hallway, there’s only one room lit up, with a blue, fluorescent light splashing its walls. you glance at the small window, and just as you had suspected, your boyfriend is perched on his chair, hunched over his desktop.

luckily his door isn’t locked, so seungcheol twists the doorknob and pulls it open. the intrusion startles jihoon, evident by the way he flinches in his seat. when he spins around, you frown at the weary look on his face. the bright blue of his room highlights his eye bags, and you can see him struggling to stay awake. “what are you two doing here? you should be asleep,” he says.

you stride towards him, eyebrows furrowed. “that’s what we should be saying. do you have any idea what time it is? you’re supposed to be at home with us.” seungcheol nods in agreement, probably too tired to engage himself in a conversation.

“not until i finish this,” the younger protests, gesturing at his monitor. you peek behind him to look at what’s pulled up, and unsurprisingly, there’s a new project loaded up, probably one of the songs he’s working on for seventeen’s next album. “management said i have to get this done by next week.” he glances at the clock. “plus, it’s only three am. i’ve had less sleep.”

“by less sleep you mean no sleep,” you correct, propping your hands on your hips. you almost look the part of a disappointed parent. “that’s so bad for you, you know.”

“hoon, we have this weekend off. you can work on it then,” seungcheol replies, yawning. “come sleep with us. anyone with a pair of eyes can tell that you’re tired.”

jihoon rolls his eyes, but the yawn that leaves his throat is evidence enough. “i’m just fine. i already downed a whole bottle of soda, anyways.”

you tiredly trudge over to him, tugging at his sleeve. he raises a questioning eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything as you drag him over to the couch by the wall. “hoonie, you’ve been up since six am. it’s not good for babies to sleep so late.”

he flushes at the implications, frowning. it ends up looking more like a pout, though, further proving your point. “i’m not a baby. you’re acting like one right now,” he protests.

you pull him onto the couch, arms trapping him. “but you’re the youngest, so you’re the baby. right, cheol?”

instead of agreeing with you, the oldest of you three pouts, flopping down beside you. “that’s no fair, (name). both hoonie and i worked today, so why are you only babying him?” he whines. for someone who’s supposed to be the oldest, he sure craves attention like a child.

you wave a dismissive hand, scooting over so seungcheol has more room. this causes you and jihoon to squish even closer together, and as discomforting as it is for all three of you, no one makes any moves to go to a more comfortable area. but then again, you three usually wound up like this more often than not, so you all stopped minding altogether. “hush, cheol. we cuddled for like, an hour when we were home. hoonie hasn’t had anyone to take care of him yet.”

jihoon rolls his eyes, pressed against your chest. “i’m right here, you know.” as much as he dislikes skinship, he’s too tired to move, and your embrace is comforting, though he’d never admit it.

you hum, snuggling closer to him. “lack of sleep makes babies grouchy. you can worry about your project tomorrow.”

“but-”

“don’t talk back to the adults,” you murmur, dozing off, pressing your forehead against his.

jihoon grumbles, though he doesn’t try to move. “this is crazy. i’m only a year younger than you and seungcheol-hyung. what do you mean don’t talk back to the adults?” he snorts.

when you don’t respond, he can only assume you’ve fallen asleep. he rolls his eyes and cranes his neck to peek at seungcheol. his eyes are also fluttering close, arms firmly wrapped around your waist. sometimes he wonders why you call him the baby when seungcheol is right there, constantly whining for your affection. if anything, he’s the baby of you three.

seeing how he can’t wriggle his way out of here (not that he would. drinking a whole bottle of coke-cola has done nothing to lift his drowsiness), he can do nothing but surrender to your clutches and lay limp in your arms. he closes his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, but hearing your voice in his head makes it a tad difficult.

you’re the youngest, so you’re the baby~

jihoon huffs, glaring at you, who’s oblivious to his piercing eyes. “says the one who always needs to hug something before he sleeps,” he quietly grumbles, poking your cheek.

to his surprise, the subtle motion is enough to stir you awake, and he feels himself heat up when your eyes flutter open. even when you’re tired, you still manage to look breathtaking. “go to sleep, hoonie,” you remind again before dozing back asleep.

when jihoon glances at the clock, the white, neon digits show him that it’s nearly four am. so this is what he ends up doing, but not because you told him to.

jihoon knows that despite your constant babying, you recognize that he’s a functioning adult who’s more than capable of handling responsibilities. even more than you, he might argue. you just have an affectionate nature and make it your sole duty to take care of everyone around you, even if they’re older than you, like seungcheol. plus, you just like calling those younger than you babies. if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only a few months older than him, he would’ve thought you were the oldest of you three.

though he claims to despise your affectionate nature, he’s thankful to have your presence, especially around him and seungcheol. he knows that as the leader of one of the biggest boy groups - both metaphorically and physically - the stress is undoubtedly more burdensome than the ones the other members have. he knows that seungcheol spends more time structuring himself as a strong leader and wise oldest member than as a twenty-five-year-old man who likes music and video-games. which is why he’s grateful that you’re around to give him the pampering and leisure he deserves, reminding him that it’s okay to be taken care of sometimes.

he isn’t mad that you direct most of your pampering at seungcheol. if anything, he’s more than happy, because now you’re there to give him the attention he complains about when he can’t. your presence, for a lack of better words, acts as a balance for you three. but there are times where you choose to baby (read: pester) him, simply because he’s the youngest and needs attention once in a while. your words, not his.

now is one of those moments.

jihoon blinks, staring at the shoe box perched on the table before him. he looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you gesture at the shoe box in a flourish, widely grinning like a child who’s won candy. “ta-da!” you exclaim. seungcheol, who had been immersed with a mobile game, is now looking his way, curiously staring at the box. judging from his expression, he guesses he doesn’t know what the contents are, either.

“and what exactly am i looking at?” he asks.

“open it!” you exclaim.

he does as he’s told, lifting up the lid of the box. to his surprise, they’re a pair of black slide-ons. he remembers eyeing a pair a week ago at a mall he had gone to with you and soonyoung, but had dismissed the thought after seeing the number shopping bags soonyoung had on each arm. he isn’t sure if you remembered or if this is a mere coincidence. either way, he’s surprised you bought him a pair of shoes out of the blue.

“what!” seungcheol exclaims. he throws his phone onto the couch, the device bouncing on the cushions. he walks towards you, instantly wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “you bought shoes for hoonie, but not for me?”

you roll your eyes. “cheol, you’re the one giving people your credit card information. you’re quite capable of buying your own shoes... actually, you’d buy them, unprompted.”

“but it’s different when it’s a gift,” he whines. “i want you to buy me shoes, too.”

ignoring your whiny boyfriend, you gesture at the sandals. “i saw you looking at them when we were at the mall with soonyoung last week! i know you don’t have a lot of time to go shopping, so i bought them for you,” you explain.

jihoon frowns. he’s the one practically swimming in a pool of money, so he should be the one buying you nice things, not the other way around. “oh... you didn’t have to.”

when he looks up at you, he sees the excitement vanish from your face, being replaced with a pout. seeing you like that makes him wonder why he and seungcheol never try babying you, especially when you have the audacity to look as cute as you do now. “do you not like them? i can always return them and get you something else...”

he practically flies out of his seat, eyes wide. “no!” he blurts. you and seungcheol are startled by the sudden outburst, your eyes mirroring his. “i mean-” he clears his throat, “i like them, i really do. but i should be the one buying you things, not the other way around.”

thankfully, you smile. “don’t worry about it! a baby like you should be bought nice things, even if you probably have better versions of them,” you tease, blowing him an air kiss.

jihoon scoffs. "you know, now that i think about it, you always pay for my things even though you’re the, and i quote, broke college student. what’s up with that?”

“because babies shouldn’t be paying for things.” you size him up, feigning innocence. “are you even allowed to have a debit card?”

seungcheol snorts at your comment, stifling his laughter by burying his head in your shoulder. on the other hand, jihoon’s jaw drops in disbelief. “this is bullying!” he yells, exasperated. “i’m being bullied by my boyfriend. hyung, you can’t be siding with him.”

the older shrugs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “when i do it, you always kick me, but you never do anything when it’s him. it’s so fun, seeing you get all flustered.”

he glares at you both. “i actually hate you two. especially you,” he seethes, pointing at you.

you lean over to whisper in seungcheol’s ear, but you’re side-eyeing him, obviously trying to get him to hear you. “has he been fed yet? you know babies get grouchy when they don’t have food in their system.”

“(name) (last name)!!”

seungcheol knows that like him, you’re usually the oldest in most situations. because of this, taking care of those around you has practically become second nature. making sure everyone around you is healthy and happy has become instinctive, and you’re willing to go through hoops and hurdles just to achieve that. it’s one of the many traits he loves about you.

he’s grateful to have you around to take care of him, but most importantly, he’s glad that there’s someone like you taking care of jihoon. sure, he whines about not being the center of your attention, but he knows that there are times when jihoon needs it more than he does. viewed as the genius producer and leader of the vocal unit of seventeen, there’s no doubt that the pressure he receives to repeatedly produce big hits is unimaginable. though it’s something that the two of them share in common, he knows he would never willingly open up about his thoughts, afraid of burdening the already stressed leader.

thankfully, there’s you, with a warm and loving aura encompassing you. you just have this aura that makes people want to lower their guard, even for those as whole and reserved as jihoon. it undoubtedly helps relieve the tension that the young producer has, even if he claims to hate it.

even if he knows this, though, that doesn’t stop him from wanting all of your attention. you’re the only person jihoon allows to pamper him (even if he denies it), so it’s not surprising that you take every opportunity you get to do so. while it’s fun to see him get riled up, seungcheol can’t help but act bratty when your attention isn’t on him.

on an exceptionally mundane day where the members of seventeen are lounging in the practice room, taking a break after excruciating hours of nonstop dancing, you knock on the door, arms loaded with bags of takeout. a few seconds later, the door swings open, and you’re standing in front of a sweaty chan. “oh, hyung! what brings you here?” he asks, surprised.

“hey chan,” you greet with a smile. he moves to the side, giving you space to enter the room. when you do, you’re greeted by twelve boys who seem equally sweaty and exhausted, who slur their greetings. “i was going to drop off some food for cheol and hoonie, but i figured you guys would be hungry,” you explained, gesturing towards the bags. from the way their eyes light up, you can tell they’re pleased with the surprise. “i have fried chicken, tteokbokki, japchae... just a bit of everything.”

immediately, the thirteen boys gather around you, salivating at the scent wafting out of the bags. “thank you hyung, you didn’t have to do that for us,” dokyeom smiles.

you shrug, seating yourself between seungcheol and jihoon. “it’s the least i could do, don’t worry about it. now eat up! you all are probably starving.”

another chorus of thanks echoes throughout the room, and soon, everyone begins to dig in. as you chat with the other members, catching up on each others’ lives and learning about comeback preparations, you suddenly feel someone pulling you up by the armpits before placing you down on their lap. startled, you crane your neck and see seungcheol, who responds by pecking your forehead. “what was that for?” mingyu asks from across you, voicing your question.

“you haven’t paid attention to me at all,” he murmurs.

you simply hum, leaning forward to stab a piece of fried chicken. you aim the fork at seungcheol’s mouth, who eagerly sweeps in and takes a bite. from the corner of your eye, you can see the other members eyeing you two with disgust. “sometimes i forget this is a three-way relationship, seeing how you both react so differently around (name)-hyung,” seungkwan snorts, scooping more japchae onto his plate. “why can’t you be more like jihoon-hyung? at least he doesn’t whine when (name)-hyung isn’t around every five minutes like you.”

you roll your eyes. “please. hoonie likes it when i baby him, too.” you send him a wink, to which he responds with by rolling his eyes.

“you’re talking nonsense.”

“don’t lie~” you coo, leaning over and ruffling his hair. “our cute baby hoonie~”

above you, seungcheol pouts, resting his chin on your head. “why don’t you ever treat me like that, (name)? this is unfair.”

you add more tteokbokki onto your plate. “it’s fun, seeing both of your reactions. hoonie’s more fun to tease, and it’s fun seeing you get all mopey.” he pouts, though he can’t refute your claims. jihoon does have funnier reactions than he does, and judging by both the amused and unimpressed looks the other members give him, he’s sure that he looks nothing short of glum.

“you know,” wonwoo begins, “i never would’ve imagined that jihoon would’ve gotten together with them. maybe with (name), but not with seungcheol-hyung. you both cling onto him more than to each other, anyways.”

“cheol here just comes to me more because he’s scared of hoonie,” you laugh, patting his thigh. “besides, they have each other when i’m not in the picture.”

“(name), you shouldn’t spoil cheollie so much. he’s already so bratty when you’re not here,” jeonghan sighs. “i’d love to see you tease jihoon more, though. you’re the only person who can get away with it unscathed, anyways.”

both seungcheol and jihoon darken in embarrassment. “shut it, yoon jeonghan,” they snap in unison.

when seungcheol and jihoon wake up one saturday morning, they don’t expect to be clinging onto each other in bed. they also don’t expect you to be awake already, seeing how you’re usually one of the last people to get up.

“where’s (name)?” jihoon groggily asks, scooting closer to an equally tired seungcheol. though he rarely lets seungcheol hold him, his need for warmth overpowers his disdain for skinship.

the older doesn’t seem to mind his sudden touchiness, wrapping an arm around him. “dunno,” he mumbles.

neither of them further questions your disappearance, cuddling closer to each other. they both begin to drift back asleep when the floorboards of the hallway creak, signalling a new presence. the bedroom dear squeaks open, so when they both turn to face the source, they see you tiptoeing your way in. “oh, morning guys,” you whisper, sheepishly smiling. “sorry for waking you two."

“it’s fine,” jihoon yawns, slowly sitting up. beside him, seungcheol turns to dig his face into his pillow, stretching his limbs. “why are you up so early? it’s-” he pauses to glance at the clock, which reads 11:30 am. “okay, maybe it’s not so early. but what are you doing up?”

you shrug. “cheol elbowed my face earlier, and i couldn’t fall back asleep again, so i decided to get out of bed.”

seungcheol turns around and looks at you with guilty eyes, sitting up. “sorry babe,” he apologizes. he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him. “is your pretty face okay?” he asks, rubbing your cheeks.

you thread your fingers through his hair, untangling the knots as jihoon rolls over. “why don’t you come back to bed and sleep some longer? i know how irritable you can get when you don’t get enough sleep.”

you shake your head at his offer. “it’s okay, but thanks.” you reposition yourself so you’re sandwiched between seungcheol and jihoon, which is when they notice the navy apron hanging around your neck. “i made food not long ago, it should be warm still. come eat with me.” you wriggle your way out of the human sandwich, standing up again. “get up, lazy bums!”

“kiss me first,” seungcheol jeers like the brat he is.

you lean in close until your breath fans his lips. when he looks like he’s going to reciprocate, you move your lips last minute and peck his forehead instead. “brush your teeth first, brat. your breath smells like ass.” before you leave, you swiftly move your head and place a kiss on jihoon’s cheek, running out of the bedroom before either of them can do anything about it.

half an hour later, jihoon steps out of the bedroom and trudges into the kitchen. seungcheol’s still in the bathroom washing up. when he rounds the corner, he nearly screams to see you so close to him. you take this opportunity to wrap your arms around him and lift him up, to which he responds with a yelp. “put me down!” he shrieks.

you pay no mind to his shrieking, walking towards the counter. you plop down on a stool and seat him on your lap. he’s still squirming, but your grip is tight, so his fidgeting proves futile. “good morning, my baby~”

for someone who claims to hate the nickname, he always flushes a pretty red when you or seungcheol use it. even after getting together, he still isn’t used to it. “how many times do i have to tell you to not call me a baby? i’m only a year younger than you.”

“then what should i call you then?” you pucker your lips, which are met with jihoon’s palm. “my liege? my love? which do you prefer?” you flirt.

his blush darkens, and he can only look away in embarrassment. “shut up.”

your laugh is so loud it hurts his ears, but it’s endearing and true, something he never gets tired of listening to. “our baby is so cute when he’s flustered~”

“is today a bully seungcheol or a bully jihoon day, i wonder?” a voice in front of you asks. he cranes his neck as much as he can and sees seungcheol pouting in front of you two, bangs wet. “do i not get this treatment because i’m the oldest?

you stick your tongue out at him before flicking his forehead. “come on, let’s eat! you two took forever.” fortunately, seungcheol pulls out a stool for jihoon to sit on, so he’s all too eager to hop away from your clutches.

you’re sitting across from the duo, who are seated beside each other. the kitchen is mostly silent, save for the clinking of utensils. it isn’t when seungcheol takes a bite from an egg that you notice a band-aid plastered near his chin. “did you hurt yourself?” you ask, aiming your fork at his wound.

he absentmindedly runs a finger against the band-aid. “oh, this? i was shaving earlier and accidentally cut myself,” he explains. he gauges your reaction, from your furrowed eyebrows to worried eyes. just then, he lets out a cry, startling you and jihoon. “oh (name), it hurts~”

you laugh at his silliness, while jihoon snorts. “you’re so embarrassing. gosh (name), this is what happens when you spoil him too much. one single mishap and he comes running to you with fake tears. look at the monster you’ve created.”

you glance at seungcheol, and the mischievous smirk on your lips only spells for disaster. “cheol-ah, you were just fine a moment ago. i think you’re strong enough to handle a tiny cut, aren’t you?”

normally he would never allow for someone to question his strength, but when it comes to you, all he wants is your pampering, even if he makes himself look like a fool in the process. “don’t tease me, (name)~ don’t take jeonghan’s words so seriously!”

you laugh, recalling your friend’s words. you love to indulge your boyfriends, though teasing them is also fun, too. you used to only tease jihoon with your sickening babying, but seeing how seungcheol whines only fuels your mischievous nature. “i think you can handle it, cheol.” changing the topic, you smile at jihoon. “how’s the food? i think i did a good job for someone with abysmal cooking skills.”

“babe~” he whines.

“the food’s good, although your chopping skills could use some work,” jihoon comments, poking at an unevenly cut tomato.

you snort. “i’m cooking for you guys, not gordon ramsay. as long as it tastes good, it should be fine.”

“this is bullying.”

you turn to face seungcheol, who’s still pouting. “why don’t you ask hoonie?”

“because he’s going to say no. or worse, he’ll kick my shins.”

you laugh, getting up to refill your water. before you enter the kitchen, you cup seungcheol’s face and press a chaste kiss on his band-aid. “there. happy?”

the dopey, lovesick look he gives you is answer enough, and as confident and nonchalant as you are when it comes to flirting, you can feel butterflies swarming in your stomach. it never gets less exhilarating, knowing you have him wrapped around your finger. “suddenly, my cut doesn’t hurt anymore.”

jihoon gags. “disgusting.”

“you like it when we’re disgusting,” you mumble, pressing a kiss on his hair. before he can react, you swoop down and squish his cheeks, leaning in to press your lips together. he makes a disgruntled noise, though he doesn’t make any attempts to pry your hands off or to move away. when you pull away, a satisfied smile rests on your lips. “see? i knew you liked it when i babied you.”

you move your hands away from his face and lay them atop his hair. on the other hand, seungcheol squishes your cheeks together and begins peppering kisses on your face, drawing out little giggles from you. below you, jihoon frowns, folding his arms. “you’re so annoying. i could step on your toes if i wanted to.”

“if you wanted to,” you reiterate, turning your head so seungcheol doesn’t muffle your words with his lips. “key word is if, my dear. you would never actually hurt me, our cute baby.”

seungcheol relinquishes his attacks, sitting back onto the stool. “i wonder what would happen if i called him that?” he wonders out loud. suddenly, he squishes jihoon’s cheek, mirroring the fond look you always give them. “our cute baby jihoonie~”

right when he does this, seungcheol decides then that is the first and last time he’ll ever try to baby jihoon again - at least, if he wants to stay unharmed. pampering is more of your forte, anyways.

[cynical-cemeteries]

i finished making the big switch from chrome to firefox on my desktop (and synced my stuff over to my phone too) and tbh...this is SO MUCH better than what i was using before 😭😭 i love all the customization and privacy options + the overall browser appearance just looks so much nicer

even though i like how firefox looks Way More than chrome,, i'm still getting used to the fact that i have a completely different browser now?? but i think it'll be worth it from now on

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

House Calls (2/2 )

Hannibal (TV)

This part took much longer than the first. The muse eluded me for quite some time but it has finally returned! And the fact that this beautiful gifset from the show is making the rounds again certainly helped. ❤❤ Shoutout to @mongooseblues for inspiration for and assistance with this fic! A small note for those that read part 1, I'm retconning the fact that Hannibal had a digital thermometer that beeps. He would definitely have a mercury one.

Read part 1 here. (Recommended, it is referenced quite a few times in part 2)

Read my other works here (works best on desktop) (Also on AO3)

My asks are always open for prompts!

For the second time in one week, Will Graham was awoken by the phone ringing. Granted, a week ago it had woken him because it rang at an unusually early hour. This time it woke him because he was still getting over the godawful bug he'd caught, and he was going to bed earlier and sleeping in later. 

He fumbled for the device and picked it up with a groggy " H'llo?"

"Will, it's Hannibal." The doctor paused to clear his throat roughly. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I have a favor to ask of you, if you're up to it." There was a strange noise on the other end of the line, a kind of shuffling noise-- or perhaps a sniffle?

"Sure," Will said with a yawn and a sniffle of his own, rubbing his eyes. "I've been feeling pretty good since yesterday. I can help with whatever you need."

"That's very promising. As to the favor...  It appears I've left my medical bag at my office." Here he had to stop to clear his throat again and cough before he continued. "I was wondering if you would be able to collect it for me and bring it to my home. I'm… well, it seems I've caught your illness and I don't believe it would be wise for me to leave the house."

By this time, Will had slid to sit on the edge of the bed as he listened, stifling further yawns. The damn flu still had him feeling so unbelievably tired and groggy. 

"I'll head out right away," Will replied, rubbing his face. "And… I'm really sorry to have put you in this position, Dr. Leh--Hannibal. I never meant to get you sick."

"Occupational hazard, and I don't regret any of my actions concerning your care. But I appreciate your assistance in getting my bag. I will see you soon I hope."

"See you soon." Will ended the call with a small sigh. Now he felt guilty *and* tired. He was almost glad there was something he could do for the doctor to help assuage his own conscience. 

Less than an hour later, Will arrived at Hannibal's stately house. It had been no problem to retrieve the black leather medical bag from Hannibal's office. Due to the late hour of their therapy sessions, Will always arrived after the office front entrance was locked, so he knew the code to the building’s back door. The bag had been hidden behind a table leg and it was easy to see how Hannibal had overlooked it  Now it was simply a matter of delivering it.

 Already a bit overwhelmed to be approaching such a house, Will hesitated after mounting the porch steps. Hannibal hadn't told him what to do when he arrived. If the doctor was sleeping he didn't want to rouse him out of bed, but he didn't want to just walk in either. However, the safest option seemed to be to bite the bullet and knock. As he raised his hand to do so though, he realized the door was slightly ajar. A man like Dr. Lecter wouldn't accidentally leave a door open, no matter how ill he was. It stood to reason, then, that it had been left open for him. With more than a little trepidation, Will pushed the door open and stepped in.

The house was dim and still, and just as stately and pristine as everything else of Hannibal's. Will heard the sound of a harpsichord from somewhere inside. Hannibal was awake, then. At least that was something. 

Will followed the sounds of the music, which led him into the cavernous kitchen. The stainless steel appliances were silent and eerie without Hannibal's bustling presence giving them life. The music was louder now, seemingly coming from the next room, and echoing slightly against the polished surfaces. A strange sixth sense kept Will from calling out that he had arrived, as if there was a spell on the house that didn't want to be broken. Will paused before he approached the corner that turned into the next room. As he did, the music stopped abruptly, and instead a different noise punctuated the air:

"HrrrrRRISHyuu! ErrrrRREISH-shooo! ISSSHH-chuhh! Hh'rrrsshh'CHHOOF!" 

It was of course Hannibal who had sneezed. Logically Will knew this was to be expected when a person was sick. Yet it seemed so strange to hear such a mundane noise from such an extraordinary person. It was as if he'd accidentally witnessed something exceedingly private. 

Still, the sneezing had broken the spell. The doctor said something in Lithuanian that sounded suspiciously like swearing, then began to blow his nose. As he did this, Will retreated several steps and reentered the kitchen more noisily:

"Dr. Lecter! I'm here! I've got your bag!"

"I'm in the study," came the congested reply, annexed by a chesty cough.

Will found the man where he said, seated in front of the instrument as he tended to his nose. Yet still, the doctor tried to smile warmly upon seeing him, though his shoulders had a limp sag to them, and he shivered as he sniffled into his handkerchief. He was wearing a fine blue silk robe with a plain white tee shirt and blue plaid pajama pants, neat but still a far cry from his usual suits. His hair was combed but lacked the crisp, styled look it usually had, hanging more naturally around his face. His eyes were fever-bright, and his cheeks were flushed from the same. He looked overall rundown and quite unwell. 

Will handed him the black leather bag right away. Hannibal took it, looking grateful. 

"Thank you so much for coming, Will. I didn't know who else to call." His voice was husky and thick, more than hinting at a miserable sore throat. 

"No problem. But what are you doing out here? I thought the reason I fetched this was because you were too sick to get out of bed."

"I'm really not very ill. I was merely trying to avoid getting anyone else ill by my going out. But you've already had this illness, so you are safe from infection, which is why I thought to call you."

"That's logical I suppose," said Will wryly. "You look pretty sick to me, though."

"I assure you I'm fie- fine…. '' Hannibal quickly disappeared behind the handkerchief again, his breath hitching to sneeze. His shoulders leapt violently several times, and the motion made his hair fall across his forehead. However, any other sneeze side effects were thoroughly stifled into silence. After finishing the fit, Hannibal wiped his nose and flipped his hair back again with a toss of his head. Noting how familiar the doctor seemed to be with the gesture, Will could only guess at the number of sneezing fits he had had prior to this one. 

Seeing the poor man’s sinuses take such abuse from the forceful stifles though made Will's own still-congested sinuses start dripping in sympathy. He hastily pulled out a tissue and wiped his nose.

"Ah, but you are still ill yourself. Where are my manners? I'll make us both tea." Hannibal quickly stood, but staggered before he could take a step, a hand going to his temple. 

"Dr. Lecter--!" Will was at his side in a moment to steady him, one hand on the doctor's arm and the other at his back, just as Hannibal had steadied him earlier in the week. Will was prepared to do whatever was needed to keep Hannibal upright, though his swaying made Will more than a little nervous, for Hannibal was much taller than he, and would more than likely take them both down if he fell. 

Thankfully, the doctor quickly righted himself, pulling away from Will's grasp. "Forgive me, I stood up too quickly." Dr. Lecter cleared his throat harshly, rubbing a palm across his eyes. 

"Are you sure you--"

"I'm fine, Will. Now, tea." He strode away to the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation, as was his talent. 

Will held his tongue for the time being and silently followed, sitting at the kitchen island while Hannibal puttered around making tea. The silence was companionable, only broken by the doctor's soft sniffles and coughs. At one point though, the doctor was overcome with a nasty coughing fit that bent him over at the waist as he grasped the countertop for balance. When the barking coughs subsided and he could breathe relatively normally once more, he flipped his hair back into place yet again and proceeded with what he was doing as if nothing had happened. Will noted all of this without comment. 

Once the tea was poured, Hannibal seated himself beside Will, and they sipped together in continued silence. Will found it odd, though not unpleasant, to be sitting next to Hannibal without speaking, for their usual interactions dictated that conversation was necessary. Will found the quiet enjoyable. Yet Hannibal could not relax, for he was forced to tend to another harsh bout of coughing, turned away from Will and muffled into his elbow. His lungs sounded as if they were trying to tear their way out of his chest. Will could only look on in concern, and it was several long moments before he quieted. 

"My apologies, Will," the doctor rasped as soon as he was able, the exertion having turned his face an even deeper shade of red.

"You don’t need to apologize. But you sound sick. And you look like you're running a fever. You should be in bed."

"I rest better down here with my music and my cooking. I couldn't lie in bed all day."

"I don't think you should do any cooking. You're shaking."

The doctor quickly hid his hands, which were indeed trembling with chills. "Even so. I find it hard to rest in bed during the day. I have trouble getting settled. It's too… quiet I suppose." He sniffled wetly, and was forced to dab at his nose with his handkerchief.

"Hmm." Will thought for a moment, studying his own hands, currently wrapped around his mug. "I suppose I have the same problem. And it's worse when you're not feeling well. But you helped alleviate that for me when I was sick." Will met the doctor's eyes, reddening slightly. "You should lie down after we're done with tea… and if you want, I'll stay with you for a while... If you think it'll help, I mean."

Hannibal regarded him in his penetrating way. "Are you that worried about my health, Will?"

"You're sick, Dr. Leh-- Hannibal. And I know how bad this flu is. I don't want to see you get worse."

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, aside from another moist sniffle. "That is very kind of you to offer. I suppose you are right. Some rest would perhaps do me good."

Will nodded. "When we're finished, I'll stay here and do these dishes while you go get settled. I'll come see you as soon as I'm done. But let me know if there's anything else you need."

Hannibal gave a tiny smile. "Thank you, Will." With that, he obediently swallowed the last few gulps of tea and stood, moving toward the back of the house.

"Hannibal?"

The doctor turned.

"You don't… have to keep pretending you're fine. If you are pretending, I mean. I know how badly you're probably feeling better than anyone. You don't need to fake anything for my sake."

Will watched as Hannibal's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly--a thin crack in the veneer. The sick man gave the barest of nods, then proceeded on to what Will assumed was his bedroom. 

Will felt quite out of his element in more ways than one as he cleaned the dishes from their tea. Having no idea where anything went, he left it all out on a towel to dry. Once the kitchen was as clean as he could make it, he steeled himself to go check on his therapist.

The master bedroom was as luxurious as the rest of the house, and Will did his best not to gawk or make comparisons between this and his own tiny house. Hannibal had hung up his robe and was huddled in bed. He wasn't fully lying down, but was propped up against a stack of pillows, his breathing noticeably thick and raspy in the silent room. As Will expected, lying down evidently made the doctor feel the full impact of his symptoms (or perhaps he was simply done pretending). Hearing Will enter, he turned his head, lethargically opening heavy-lidded eyes. Against the cream sheets, the contrast between his pallor and fever flush was even more striking.

"It seems I'm more unwell than I thought," Hannibal murmured with a cough. "This is why I wanted to avoid lying down."

Will made a sympathetic sound. "That means you *need* to be lying down then. Have you taken your temperature recently? If not, we should."

Hannibal glanced at the medical bag he'd brought up with him. "The only thermometer I own is in there, so I have been unable to."

"A doctor that doesn't own a thermometer?" Will chuckled, moving to the bag. "I wouldn't have expected that."

"I do own one. I've never seen the need to own two."

Will deigned not to reply as he rummaged through the bag, quickly finding what he needed. He shook down the mercury as he returned to Hannibal's side. Hannibal held out his hand to take it, then shakily inserted it under his tongue. He leaned back to stare at the ceiling while Will stared at the floor, hands in his pockets.

Will waited what felt like an awkwardly long time before he finally shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "How long does it take to get a reading? I've never--"

Hannibal held up a hand and waited a bit longer, then removed the device from his mouth, glanced at it, and handed it to Will without comment.

Seeing the reading, Will gave a low whistle. 104.1… that's high, Hannibal."

"My body temperature is always above average. This is more pronounced when I'm ill." 

"Do you have some medicine? You should probably take something. Or do you want a cool rag?"

"I have just taken medication." The doctor gestured to his nightstand with a thick sniffle where there was a small collection of unmarked pill bottles. "And there's no need for cooling methods. A fever is a natural physiological response to infection. Nothing to be alarmed about." He swiped at his nose with his handkerchief, stifling a cough.

Will was skeptical, but before he could respond, Hannibal jerked forward at the waist, pressing the handkerchief to his face again:

"Gghnxt! Kppshht!" 

The expression on the doctor’s face indicated that he could have (and maybe should have) kept sneezing, but he harshly pinched his nose with a wet squelch and blew, forcing the tickle to subside. 

Will sighed and shook his head, then made a face upon noticing the state of the handkerchief Hannibal was using.

"That handkerchief is...sodden. It's practically dripping. I'll get you a fresh one. Where do you keep them?"

"I only have 3 others and they are in worse shape than this one. I've rather been running through them."

Will chuckled. "I can't imagine why." He rummaged through his pockets, finally producing a nearly full, cellophane-wrapped travel pack of Kleenex which he handed to the doctor.

Hannibal made a face. "I despise using these." 

"I'm not sure you have an option right now. These have to be better than your soaking wet cloth ones."

"Debatable," Hannibal muttered. Still, he shook one out and gingerly brought it to his face. He gave several thick, gurgling blows, productive to the point of starting to disintegrate the tissue. Seeing this, Hannibal made another face.

"You really need to use 2 or 3 of those at a time," Will said, trying not to laugh. "But let me get you a trash can."

"There is one in the master bathroom," Hannibal croaked, looking peeved and sounding more congested than ever. 

Will quickly fetched the bin while Hannibal tried again to blow his nose, using 4 Kleenex this time. The 2nd round of blowing was equally productive. When he was finished, Will held the bin out and Hannibal tossed the tissues in as if he were tossing in a dead rat. 

"This is most unsanitary Will," Hannibal muttered with a slushy sniffle, yet still pulling out more to continue wiping his streaming nostrils.

Will only chuckled. Hannibal was breathing slightly easier now, but his eyes were heavier than ever. 

"You should sleep, Dr--Hannibal. You don't have to stay awake for my sake. I'll be here when you wake up."

The doctor nodded, obediently closing his eyes with a sigh. 

Will didn't expect such a quick response, and for a moment he watched the doctor to ensure he was truly going to sleep. When it appeared he was, Will perched on a nearby chair, unsure what else to do. It seemed he was to be staying with Hannibal in the most literal sense, for he wasn’t about to go wandering around this house by himself.

Half an hour passed, the minutes dragging slowly. The doctor lay perfectly still the entire time, but Will knew he wasn't sleeping. His frame was too alert. Meanwhile Will, with nothing to do except scroll through his phone and listen to Hannibal's deep breathing, was struggling to stay awake and wishing he too had a bed. Killing time was only making him more groggy, and his head was beginning to ache. 

Getting fed up with it, Will went with his instincts and tried something else. Swallowing a yawn and rubbing his eyes, he navigated to the e-reader app on his phone and pulled up one of his favorite novels. Clearing his throat, he began to read aloud: "The year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten…."

As soon as there was another sound in the room, Hannibal began to visibly relax, angling his face toward Will even as he got more comfortable in the bed, though his eyes never opened. Slowly, slowly he sank deeper into the pillows as Will read on. Will sensed he was trying to follow the story, but it seemed the doctor's fatigue was overwhelming, especially since Will was trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. Within another 30 minutes, Hannibal's hand had gone limp around the Kleenex he was holding as he softly snored, sleeping at last. 

Will finished the chapter he was on, just to be sure the sick man wouldn't wake again, before he finally closed the book. His mouth was very dry and he needed a glass of water. Before he left the room though, he turned on the white noise machine he'd noted near the bed (he had a similar one in his own room), hoping some kind of continued noise would help Hannibal sleep longer. Will then tiptoed to the kitchen, pouring himself a huge glass of water right away. As he sat and drank it, he thought about what else he should do, for he didn't want to just continue sitting around. 

"What do you do for someone when they're sick?" he murmured to himself. Another moment later, he answered himself: "Make them soup, I guess." 

Hannibal's soup had been wonderful, but Will was no chef. He could prepare many basic things, but spices and seasonings, and thus soups, eluded him. He cringed at the thought of preparing something from scratch for a culinary master like Dr. Lecter. 

However, another idea occurred to him, and he smiled to himself as he considered it. It might work, but he would need to run an errand. He stood right away and strode to the front door, wanting to go and be back as quickly as possible. He only hoped Hannibal would sleep the whole time he was gone, for Will had promised to be there when he woke, and he intended to keep that promise.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal didn't wake until many hours later, and Will was indeed at his side when he did. It was Hannibal's treacherous nose that did it. Will had noted subtle signs of him nearing consciousness again for a while, but the final straw was an uncontainable volley of sneezes:

"HRRIIZZSHH-uh! HhURRSHH-shuh! hrrRIIIZZSHHD! Hhh-KKRRCHHSSHHooo!"

The sighed exhale that followed bordered on a groan as that doctor shakily grabbed the tissues at his side and tended to his cherry-red nose yet again with several gurgling blows. Will had been at his side from the first sound, looking for any way to be useful. Eventually Hannibal met his gaze, taking a moment to survey the younger man. 

"You look tired, Will."

Will huffed a cheerless laugh. "You haven't doctored me enough yet this week?"

"A physician's nature doesn't change just because he's ill," Hannibal sniffled. "And you've also been ill. I don't want you to overtax yourself on my account."

"I'm fine. But you look tired too. How are you feeling?" 

Hannibal didn't reply immediately, seemingly taking inventory. A shaky breath caused him to cough harshly before he could speak, and Will winced in sympathy. 

"I feel thoroughly disgusting. And ill," Hannibal mumbled through congested-sounding consonants. "My head and chest feel achingly thick. Heavy." He put his own wrist to his forehead for a moment. "Feverish." 

"Here, you need to drink." Will handed the doctor a tall glass of ice water. Hannibal took it and drank it down with a grateful look, but the chill from the ice immediately caused him to cough into his fist yet again.

Will watched all of this, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm still sorry I got you sick, Hannibal. I hate seeing you like this."

Though Hannibal's eyes shone with fever, he eyed Will keenly. "This is not your fault. Illness is an expected part of the human experience. You must not blame yourself." It occurred to Will that congestion was not the only thing making Hannibal more difficult to understand--his Lithuanian accent was also far more pronounced than usual.

"I still feel terrible."

The doctor quirked an eyebrow at him, looking faintly amused. "What a coincidence. As I've just told you, so do I."

Will couldn't think how to respond, so they merely shared a wry smile. Then, without warning, Hannibal's torso whipped forward, and he exploded into another pair of thick, spraying sneezes:

"Hhht-KNNXT! hhnnxxt-CHUUHG!" Evidently his ability to stifle was weakening as his symptoms worsened. The sick doctor stayed hunched forward, blowing and wiping his raw nose for the hundredth time, looking utterly miserable as he shook the last few Kleenex from the package. 

"At least that's something I can help you with," Will said, nodding at the empty wrapper. He bent down and came back up with 2 new boxes of tissues. He opened one and handed it over. Hannibal took it reluctantly.

  "Those are the best ones you can get. They should be almost like real cloth."

"I rather doubt that," Hannibal muttered. "But I thank you nonetheless. They are sorely needed." 

"And I plan to take your cloth ones home and wash them and bring them back tomorrow. Including the one I still have. So you'll only have to deal with these for a bit longer," Will said with a little grin.

The doctor's eyes lit up in pleasure. "I would be most grateful for that."

"Is there anything else you'd like? Either now or tomorrow?"

Hannibal again coughed into his first before he spoke, sounding thoroughly phlegmy. "I should likely take some food. I'm feeling weaker than I ought to."

It was Will's turn to light up. "There's another coincidence… I have food ready for you. Some soup and stuff."

"I thought I smelled something simmering, even through this dreadful congestion. That explains why I'm suddenly hungry," Hannibal said with a thick sniffle, leaning back into his pillows. "Thank you for thinking of it. Though I would hardly call your predicting my needs a coincidence, but rather proof of your capabilities as a caretaker. Just something to think on.” The doctor gave him a pointed look even as he sniffled again. 

Will was now embarrassed and quickly moved to the doorway. "I'll go bring some for you now."

Hannibal let the subject drop and nodded weakly, closing his eyes as he massaged the bridge of his nose. Will hurried to the kitchen and ladled a bowl of chicken soup from the pot warming on the stove. He had the ingredients for grilled cheese ready as well, and a hot griddle waiting, so it was only a matter of minutes before he had a fresh, hot sandwich to accompany the soup. As a final touch, he peeled an orange and placed it on the plate with the sandwich, then grabbed the bottle of soda he'd bought, and transported it all to the sick room on a large tray.

Hannibal was clearly a bit taken aback upon seeing it all. "This is quite the spread, Will," he croaked. "Did you make all of this?"

"Define 'make', Will chuckled. "I turned the stove on, yes."

"The soup isn't yours then?"

"It's Campbell's chicken noodle, fresh from the can. The genuine, original sick day food. Grilled cheese made with the finest Kraft singles of course. An orange for the Vitamin C, no seeds. For the drink, we have ginger ale, the beverage that can cure any ailment. And for dessert, if you so desire, we also have hot chocolate."

Hannibal was speechless for a moment. Then, a tiny smile began to play across his features. "This is ...really something, Will. I haven't been served a meal quite like this in a very long time. I can't even remember the last time I had a cola." 

"Only the finest. Or at least the finest I could manage on short notice."

"You bought all of this just today?"

Will nodded. "This is what I used to like when I was sick. I figured I couldn't go wrong with classic comfort foods. I'm sorry I couldn't give you something higher quality. But I hope it still helps."

"Indeed." The doctor chuckled hoarsely. "This is quite satisfactory. I'm sure it will help. Thank you once again." Without further ado, the doctor dug into his feast.

To Will's surprise, the doctor easily finished not only the orange, but the soup and the sandwich as well, and seemed to enjoy them as much as could be expected. He was most skeptical of the ginger ale, but he finished half of that as well, pronouncing it "very interesting." Will also made sure he drank plenty of water to round it all out. Finally Hannibal pushed the tray away with a contented sound.

"In a practical sense, I always knew the restorative properties of chicken soup, but it's been many years since I experienced them first-hand," Hannibal managed, after blowing his streaming nose several times. "My throat and sinuses feel significantly better. As does my headache. Perhaps we should save the hot chocolate for tomorrow however, for I am comfortably full now." 

Will thought he was going to say more, for he paused oddly. Instead the doctor's breath hitched violently:

"Gihh-chuuh! Chnnggh!..." 

Only the first two in the fit were audible. He seemingly sneezed several more times, but he stifled them into oblivion, with only the movement of his head to indicate what was happening. Watching such forceful suppression was still painful, but it heartened Will slightly to know that Hannibal was feeling well enough after some food to worry about his dignity once more.

Finally the doctor ended his fit and fell back against the pillows with a weary sigh and a weak cough, flipping the hair off of his forehead yet again.

"That looked exhausting."

"Perhaps it would have been if I weren't exhausted to begin with," Hannibal mumbled, an arm over his face.

"Then you should sleep more."

Hannibal uncovered his eyes to meet Will's. "It would be terribly rude of me to sleep again while you are here."

Then I'll get ready to go. I'll clean up all of this then head out. Let you have some peace. But like I said, I'll be back tomorrow with your handkerchiefs." Will grabbed the tray, preparing to carry it to the kitchen. 

"Will?"

Will paused, turning around.

Hannibal looked slightly imploring. "If it's not too much trouble, would you mind reading a bit more before you go? I was quite enjoying the story."

Will couldn't help but smile. "It would be my pleasure."

[altheterrible]

This came up in my Facebook memories from 2008. Thought it would be fun to do it again almost 15 years later.

1) What should we call you?

Al the Terrible

2) Have you ever showered with someone?

not in any way that was remotely enjoyable.

3) Do you still talk to the person you fell hardest for?

Lol no

4) Are you a male or a female?

Female

5) Was last New Year's Eve enjoyable?

Not really. It was a struggle to stay up until midnight.

6) Are you high?

Unfortunately, no

7) McDonalds or KFC?

They offer totally different products. Generally I'll choose McDonald's though.

8) Burger King or Wendys?

Wendy's, I guess. They have better nuggets.

9) Target or Walmart?

Meijer, usually. I mean, I'm there all the time anyway.

10) What time is it?

2:13 AM

11) Would you ever become a vegetarian?

I hate vegetables, is the thing. So probably not.

12) What is your desktop picture?

SPACE!

13) Can you swim well?

Not at all. Having only one functioning lung makes swimming pretty hard for me, and dangerous to boot. I don't float very well.

14) Would you rather go to Tokyo or Paris?

Hard pass on both. Japan has serious issues with misogyny and France has issues with snobbery.

15) Do you have a guitar in your house?

Yes, a bright orange electric guitar. I also have a blue electric bass.

16) Are you listening to music right now?

Nope, might turn some on though.

17) Who else is in the room with you?

Sev the Cat is asleep on my rocking chair.

18) How long can you go without your phone?

Oh, roughly 32 seconds. I'm a dopamine addict.

19) Do you have any enemies?

None who are aware they're my enemies.

20) What last made you sad?

A billboard for a pet cremation service.

21) Is the person you last kissed younger than you?

He was 14 years old, small, with black fur, yellow eyes, and four legs.

22) Last person talked to on the phone and what did they say?

My doctor's office, I was trying to get them to call in a refill for a med.

23) What is your favorite commercial you've ever seen?

The one I've watched the most is probably the KISS Pepsi commercial. I was obsessed as a teenager.

24) Who last grabbed your ass?

Some drunk creep at work. Love working nights.

25) Do you eat raw cookie dough?

Shamelessly.

26) Don't you hate it when the radio ruins songs by over-playing?

My job plays like the same 25 songs over the PA, most of which I've never listened to voluntarily but nevertheless know all their words.

27) How do you eat oreos?

Generally I don't, but when I do I like to dip them in milk.

28) Are you cocky?

Lol no. I have no faith in my own abilities and will be the first person to express doubt about my capabilities.

29) Could you live without a computer?

I very rarely use an actual computer anymore, mostly I use my tablet.

30) At what age did you find out that Santa wasn't real?

Wait, he's not?

31) What do you do when you're sad?

Do things to make myself even more sad, to the point that it's ridiculous how dramatic I'm being, and I can laugh about it.

32) Who would you call first if you won the lottery?

my sister

33) Is anyone on your bad side now?

I don't have a bad side, I'm a friendly, happy, kind person 100% of the time.

34) What's the first thing you do when you wake up?

Take my morning meds.

35) Will you keep your last name when you get married?

I was thinking if I ever get married, I'll use the opportunity to choose a new last name. I'm a fan of MacKenna

36) Do you return your cart?

Sometimes. Sometimes I put it directly behind someone else's car to be a dick.

37) What brand are your pants/shorts right now?

I think I got them at Walmart, they're really ugly gray sweatpants

38) What irritates you most on the internet?

Videos that autoplay with sound. God, is there anything more awful?

39) Do you like sushi?

I've never had it, but I don't like it as a concept.

Gonna tag people who should do this because I think old fashioned surveys need to come back. @wardinpanties @severinw93 @lifewithchronicpain @theresnocureforcuriosity @westgateoh do it and tag 5 people!

[joon-ipersgirl]

O5 - “the coveted client”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district's hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello friends. here is part 5. leave a comment on how you're feeling about this story. i'm debating on discontinuing it from tumblr. thank you vi for reading as always. enjoy everyone :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Training tonight @ 6pm. Don’t be late. You read the incoming text with a grin. Even in text, Suga is straight to the point. Shoving your phone back into your pants pocket, you leave the small kitchenette and head back to your small desk with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. You can still remember the looks of horror on the boys’ faces after Suga announced your immediate hire and it’s been two weeks since then. Was it wrong to take pleasure in their discomfort? Probably. Would you stop? Never.

“Is that a smile I spy on Miss Y/N Y/L/N’s face? The Devil must be here to collect his wife,” Paul exclaims as you sit back down. You laugh and prop your chin on your hand as you stare at him over your desktop screen.

“Can a woman not just be happy, Paul? Why does it have to come at the expense of a man?” you ask, a fake feign of hurt in your voice.

“Of course women can. Just not you,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. You shake your head, your smile still present on your face. Paul would not ruin your good mood.

“Ouch. That one might have hurt if I actually gave a fuck about your opinion of me,” you say while reorganizing the folders Manager Kim had dropped onto your desk from the day before.

“Y/N! Language!” Laura chides as she walks into your cramped office space. You roll your eyes and flip through the countless papers on your desk to order them in order of priority.

It’s honestly a miracle that none of you manage to murder each other while you work though it’s crossed your mind several times. JM Events and Affairs is a lucrative event planning company, but apparently could not afford to at least place its clerks in a room larger than 500 sq ft. Being entry level is a struggle most days, but eventually it would all pay off and you would become a successful event planning guru. For now though, you’re stuck here with the imbeciles you had to call co-workers.

“Manager Kim wants to see us in her office,” James says as he pokes his head around the wall of the cubicle, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Now,” he emphasised. He doesn’t wait for you to follow.

Paul shoots you and Laura a raised brow of confusion as you grab your notepads and file down the long corridor to Manager Kim’s well decorated office. She’s an older woman who’s been in the business longer than you’ve been alive. She credits her success to always staying ahead of the trend even if she didn’t create it, though most times she did. Her style is impeccable and she is meticulous as she is jovial. She’s, quite simply, a genius.

James has already taken a seat in one of the two plush grey chairs in front of her large, industrial sized desk. Rows of colorful binders are organized on her desk - no doubt detailing the new events the company is planning on hosting. Manager Kim enjoys the arts and it’s evident from the variety of paintings that hang on the wall. Today, she’s dressed in a powder blue knit sweater that matches whatever shade of nail polish she wears tucked into a pair of belted, high waisted wide leg pants. Her matching steel toe boots peek from underneath.

“Ah, good. You’re all here,” she begins as she sits behind her desk. You gesture for Laura to take the other available seat as you stand behind James and Paul stands next to you.

“We have a new client considering the company for an event. He’s very important for future networking opportunities so I expect the very best work from you.” Manger Kim usually wasted no time getting straight to the point and today is no different. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring your work very closely because I knew a client like this would be coming very soon,” she stands from her desk, navy blue binder in hand.

“What kind of event is he planning on having?” James inquires, his pen ready to take notes.

“He didn’t give specific details, but I’m sure if we can book him for this minor event, he’ll give us the main one. I’m quite sure of it.” Manager Kim snaps the binder shut and smiles at you all. Her white blonde bob is immaculate, not a single strand out of place.

“Should we start drafting ideas now?” Laura asks.

“Yes, I need several drafts from each of you by 4pm this afternoon. Please have them -”

“Are we just supposed to forget about the other events we have coming up? This guy didn’t even give us any major details for effective planning!” Paul interrupts. Manager Kim turns to look at him.

“Well Paul, if this client is of no importance to you -” Paul tries to backtrack, but to no avail as Manager Kim continues on “- I will not need your drafts or your portfolio.” She beams at him and Paul blanches. You grimace.

“As I was saying. Please have your portfolios and 4 drafts submitted to me by 4pm today. They should be in priority order and include everything from food to colors, entertainment and venues. Remember, the customers knows best -”

“- but finesse, finesse, finesse,” you, Paul, James, and Laura finish. Manager Kim should have that framed and put on her wall.

“Lovely. Goodbye,” she waves no longer looking at you, already lost in her grueling event editing process. You knew better than to loiter and the four of you head back to your small workspace.

“You really fucked up there Paul,” you say as you sit down at your desk.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Paul deadpans. He drops his head quite heavily on his desk. Laura winces.

“It’s okay, Paul. Maybe you can still show her something and -” she starts.

“You know Manager Kim isn’t the forgiving kind,” James interrupts. “There’s nothing more he can do,” he finishes nonchalantly.

“I hate to agree -” you begin.

“No you don’t,” Paul cuts in.

“- but James is right. Manager Kim is all about quick thinking and Paul failed that test. He’ll have another time to redeem himself, but he has to sit this one out. You should be happy, Laura. Less competition,” you say with a shrug and flip open your notepad to start drafting.

“Do you even have an empathetic bone in your body, Y/N?!” Laura hisses as she walks over to rest a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” you reply. “But everyone has to eat and I refuse to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Laura looks disgusted at your answer and she goes back to consoling Paul. James had left the conversation a long time ago and you admired his ability to ignore almost everyone around him. His coldness and detachment made him ruthless in an unsuspecting way and you’d learned the hard way not to underestimate him. Laura would learn eventually that while people thought it was the strong who survived, it was really those who were able to adapt to any environment that really thrived.

It’s after lunch that you receive an email from Manager Kim requesting for you to meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes without any further explanation. You ask no questions and sit in the lobby, counting the people that come out of the elevator that were not Manager Kim. It’s already 1:24 pm and you’ve just started your third draft. Creating on a time crunch with no real guidance is no walk in the park and you try to keep your frustrations under control as you run through possible color combinations for the event.

“Y/N! There you are! Let’s go,” Manager Kim calls as she exits the building without checking to see if you follow.

You scramble to grab your purse and notepad, scurrying across the lobby in the high heels she insists you wear. Manager Kim is already seated in a company car as you yank the passenger side door open and fall into the seat.

“Very good,” she says and wastes no time pulling into traffic. You awkwardly try to secure your seatbelt as she zips through the small spaces between cars. Gods protect you from this woman and her hazardous driving.

“Where are we going?” you ask after you manage to situate your purse, coat, and notepad in your lap comfortably.

“Downtown. We’re meeting with the client.”

“We?!” you repeat, surprised.

“That’s what I said isn’t it? We’re also late,” she says as she makes a sharp right turn onto Matthews St. You barely miss hitting a cyclist and you send up another small prayer for you to make it to your destination safely.

“What about the drafts and portfolios? Aren’t you going to review -”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” She glances over at you from the corner of her eye and you close your mouth. You would not fail this test.

Manager Kim pulls over into an impossibly tight space in front of a large corporate building that reads Hastings and Lewis. A well established law firm if you remember correctly. It has to be at least 14 stories high and exudes the architect’s vision of simple modern design with large windows and exposed steel structural support. You both exit the car and you align your steps with hers, your heels clicking in time against the marble flooring as you enter the building. You say good afternoon to the doorman who simply nods at you in greeting.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the receptionist asks behind the raised desk, her head barely visible.

“Yes, hello. My name is Madeline Kim. I have an appointment to speak with Mr. Cavallero at 2:15pm.” You glance at the clock behind the receptionist. 1:53pm. You bite your lip to hold your outburst. To be early is to be on time, you could hear her say.

The receptionist smiles and nods as she searches her computer for the appointment. “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat. Someone will come and get you shortly.”

Manager Kim nods and perches in one of the available seats. You shake your head as you take a seat next to her, ignoring the itching in your palm to pull out your notepad and finish your drafts. You can tell by the way Manager Kim is sitting, not scrolling through her various binders or the calendar on her phone, this is a formal interview and you would not be the one to fuck it up. There would be time to finish the drafts. You would make sure of it.

“Ms. Kim?” A young man in a sharp, black suit stands in the center of the room smiling at you. 2:05pm. Right on time. “If you could follow me this way, please.” He turns towards the golden elevators and you follow behind him. “My name is Lewis Carlisle and I am the assistant to Mr. Cavallero,” he tells you as he pushes the button for the 10th floor. He sticks his hand out for each of you to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Carlisle. Thank you for having us. This is my assistant, Ms. Amani Jung.” A lie, but you go with it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” you say with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He returns a smile of his own.

The elevator doors open and you follow Mr. Carlisle through the open workspace plan. This is the kind of place that promoted collaboration and teamwork. How could it not when the light airy feeling made you want to turn to your neighbor and ask them what they thought about a particular problem? JM Events and Affairs should have hired their interior designer. Maybe some of their employees wouldn’t struggle as much to meet their deadlines.

“Mr. Cavellero unfortunately will not be able to meet with you in person today -” Manager Kim’s smile tightens at his words “- but he did relay all of his expectations for the company brunch,” Lewis says as he holds open the door to a small meeting room. It’s in the center of the floor and the walls are made of pure plexiglass. It screamed expensive.

“How wonderful,” Manager Kim comments as she sits down and sets her purse down on the ground.

“Would either of you like something to drink? Water? A Coke?”

“ A water with light ice will do, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please,” you reply and sit down beside Madeline. You discreetly pull out your design notepad along with your actual note-taking pad. Lewis nods and promises to return quickly with your drinks as well as the file containing the event details.

“You seem upset,” you comment while scribbling down the words brunch and law firm onto a new blank sheet for your fourth and final draft, your brain already conjuring up ideas.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, turning to you slightly as she too sets up her own note-taking station.

“Your smile failed to meet your eyes,” you say nonchalantly. From the corner of your eye, you see her break into a grin as Lewis enters the room, a cup of water in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a slim manilla folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Thank you again, Mr. Carlisle,” Manager Kim says with another bright smile, her hand in his as they shake hands again.

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure Mr. Cavallero will love what you put together for brunch,” he replies.

The meeting seems to be a success and you’d gained some much needed insight for your fourth draft while being Madeline’s “assistant”. You’re no longer paying attention as you exit the meeting room and head back towards the main elevator, Madeline and Lewis making polite conversation. You run over all of your drafts as you check the time discreetly. It’s 3:20pm. You would still have enough time to review your plans and work on the others files Manager Kim had assigned. You grin in victory.

“Mr. Cavallero!” Lewis exclaims as the elevator doors open.

The man is an older gentleman with neatly groomed hair and warm brown eyes. His coal grey suit is neatly pressed, a sharp crease present in the center of his pant leg. Definitely high quality and only dry-cleaned. His smile displays a set of perfect of white teeth. As he steps out of the elevator, holding it open so it wouldn’t close, the Armani Exchange watch glitters under the artificial lights.

“Mr. Carlisle. I assume this must be our event coordinators. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you. An emergency meeting was called for a major case,” he apologizes.

“I understand, Mr. Cavallero. Things are sometimes out of our control. No need to explain,” Madeline says with a smile as she enters the elevator. You follow behind her. “Mr. Carlisle was quite capable. I will have Miss Y/L/N send over the final details for the event by Friday for your approval.”

Mr. Cavallero’s eyes shift over to you and he smiles. “I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.” He let the doors go as Lewis tells you goodbye, the doors closing off the last of his words.

Manager Kim’s shoulders visibly relax as you descend to the lobby, but you make no comment. Though their conversation was brief, something had clearly transpired between them. Madeline seems to have noticed you watching her as she inhales and fixes her posture. She was back to business.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you not to say anything about this meeting?” she asks as she nods her thanks to the doorman, your steps once more in sync as you exit the high rise building.

“What meeting?” You say with a grin as you wait for her to unlock the company car.

The heat of the staircase in Spiral welcomes you again like a familiar friend after not seeing them for a long time. There is still the hustle and bustle of vendors dropping off boxes as the final details of the new designs are being put into place. People couldn’t wait to see how Spiral had fared after the robbery - which you still didn’t believe was actually what happened - and it seems like Friday’s opening night couldn’t come soon enough. Even Paul and Laura were considering stopping by after all of the shit they talked before.

You enter the main space and glance around, looking for one of the boys. Your purse bag is heavy from the event files and you head over to set it on top of the bar while resting your aching feet. Paul, Laura, and James could not believe you’d managed to turn in your drafts and portfolio at exactly 3:57pm after being gone so long; they would eventually learn to not underestimate you. You glance around again and notice a group of people sitting in one of the newly upholstered booths quietly chatting to one another across the way. Were these the new employees?

“Already lounging on the first day of the job, Y/L/N?”

You look to your left as you shrug off your heavy overcoat and see Honcho coming around the bar, a pile of clothes in his hands.

“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure who to report to,” you say with a shrug.

“Well, you’re looking at him,” he replies with a grin. You have to stop your mouth from falling open. Of all people, it had to be him? “What? Are you disappointed?” he asks as he continues across the room to the small group. You grab your stuff and walk over after him.

“No, I just thought -”

“Thought it would be Suga? As much as you like to charge in and demand shit sweetheart, Suga is a very busy man and doesn’t have the time to appease you all the time. Sit,” he commands with a jerk of his head. You narrow your eyes at him, but obey. It’s only then that you notice the other five persons staring at you in confusion as you bickered. You swallow the urge to huff in annoyance as Honcho begins speaking.

“Thank you all for being on time. Congratulations on being hired. I’m Honcho and I’ll be your manager at Spiral. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. These are your uniforms. We have a strict adherence uniform policy, so please do your best to be dressed in your proper attire. If you have long hair, it will be tied up or back in a bun or ponytail. Ladies, we ask that you wear red lipstick to match our colors. We’ve also given you options for bottoms: a skirt or pants.” Honcho holds up a pair of each for demonstration. “Whatever you decide to wear is up to you. We only ask that all your shoes are closed toed and we would prefer no sneakers; we’re trying to sell a vibe here. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. “No? Great. If you could introduce yourselves to each other, that’d be fantastic.” He looks over to the boy on the other side of the booth.

“Uh, hi. My name is Micah. I’m 21 and recently graduated from college.” He tosses up a small wave before pushing his glasses further up his nose. He’s narrow shouldered and naturally blonde. Cute, if you will. They would chew him up and eat him alive if he continued to be so timid.

“Hey, I’m Luca. I’m 23 and a graduate student at Oberman.” Luca definitely fit the vibe Spiral os going for with his dark hair and dark eyes. He would have no problem wooing the numerous women who would walk through the door. A great business move in your opinion.

“Hey y’all, Savannah here. I’m 22 and working part time while in school.” Another blonde hair, blue-eyed coworker. How fun. The bubbles in champagne had nothing on her as she beams at the rest of you around the table.

“I’m Jack. I’m 24 and I guess I’m here to save up for a new car? Need some extra cash,” he finishes with a bashful grin. The girl next to you snorts. Jack is a big man with broad shoulders and you would assume he was hired as additional security based on his size. Imagine a man as big as him bringing over your strawberry mojito? Exactly.

“Giselle. 21. Law student. Loans have to pay themself off somehow right?” Luca laughs and Giselle smiles. Yuck. If you weren’t already sick of the office romance - if you could call it that - between Laura and Paul at JM, you were going to have to endure another one here? Gods be with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m 22 and an event planner,” you say nonchalantly and turn to Honcho, waiting for his next instructions.

“Not going to tell us the reason you’re here?” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like a lot of things, Y/L/N. In fact, I can think of a few -”

“Gross,” you say, interrupting him, your face turned down in disgust. He laughs.

“Always think someone wants something from you, huh?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Everyone, go get changed and I’ll explain your duties to you once you get back.”

The six of you ease out of the booth, grabbing your uniforms as you head to the restrooms to get changed. As you follow Savannah and Giselle, you can’t help but scan the hallway for anything you could have missed as the memory of your second night here flashed across your mind. There had to be something that you were missing.

“I hope these uniforms are cute,” Giselle grumbles as she steps into an empty stall.

“I’m sure it’ll look great,” Savannah chirps.

You step into your own individual stall and drop your stuff on the floor. Slipping out of your heels, you step out of your slacks and tug off your blouse. You hold up the uniform shirt. It’s a plain black t-shirt with the letters in red spelling out Spiral in a spiral formation. The pants are made of a faux leather shiny material. They look tight and the sides have cut outs with strings laced in them from hip to ankle. The skirt is exactly the same. You sigh. This was really the vibe?

You dress quickly and tug on your Doc Martens. Honcho would have to wait for the lipstick. Exiting the stall, you see Savannah trying to adjust the strings on her pants while chewing her lip.

“Is it supposed to be this exposed?” she asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Giselle says exiting the stall and tugging down the hem of her skirt.

“So much for equality in the workplace huh?” you say. The two of them laugh.

The three of you return to the main space, Micah, Luca, and Jack already back at the booth with Honcho. Their eyes widen when they see you.

“Looking good ladies,” Honcho calls with his traditional large grin. Of course he would comment.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?” Giselle asks as she wiggles her way back into the booth, trying to cover her modesty.

“We’re going to take a tour of the facilities, get you acquainted with the space, and fill out the last pieces of paperwork. We’ll also have you help with some of the decorations; don’t worry, you’re going to get paid for this session. Then, we’ll see you on Friday for your shifts,” he replies. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he doesn’t wait for you to follow. As you’re setting your belongings down to catch up with the rest of the group, you spot Jin heading towards the bar. Just the man who you needed to see.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Savannah calls to you as the group heads up to the second level.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to ambush Jin. You pretend to search for something in your purse as you double-check the group is far enough on the second level to not notice you not following before you head over to Jin.

“Well hello Jin,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Y/N,” he says with a chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

“Just answer a few simple questions.” you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

“Alright,” he replied skeptically.

“Where’d you move the body?” The bottle of Aperol nearly slips out of his grip as he turns to look at you.

“Excuse me?” There’s no laughter in his voice.

“The body of the man in the bathroom,” you clarify. “How’d you get it to disappear like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, busying himself with stocking up the bottles of alcohol under the shelf. He won’t meet your eyes. You know he’s lying; his body language says it all.

“Oh come on, Jin. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go to the cops or anything,” you say nonchalantly. “Clearly they didn’t seem to care since they weren’t that thorough with their questions.”

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You were concussed remember? Maybe you imagined whoever you’re talking about.” He glances up at you. You roll your eyes.

“Really Jin? You’re going to use the concussion line on me? You knew that I shot him; I told you that. I just want to know where you put him and why there were no reports of a missing man from the incident on the news at all,” you say with a shrug. He finally turns to face you.

“Maybe nobody reported him missing. Maybe he slipped out after you ducked behind the bar. What does it matter? Look, it was a traumatic night. For all of us. I don’t know anything about whatever or whoever you’re talking about. Hell, you probably don’t know either. Please, don’t make this working relationship anymore difficult for yourself than it already is. Just come in, keep your head down, and head out.” His hands are splayed out on the bar and the distance between you has closed significantly from when he’d started talking as he stares you down. “Worry about the things that concern you, like repaying your debt.” His tone is sharp and final. There’s no friendliness in his face either.

“Y/L/N! You’re not getting paid to sit on that pretty little ass of yours. Get up here now!” Honcho yelles down to you over the railing of the second floor balcony.

Ignoring Honcho, you cock your head and look at Jin again, thinking. “Okay Jin. Heard you loud and clear.”

You hop off the bar stool and adjust your skirt. You say nothing further as you head upstairs. It seems as though Jin would be of no help to you, but honestly, it didn’t matter. If it didn’t concern you, why was Jin lying about knowing what man you were talking about? Why had Suga tried to discreetly cover up that paper in his office the other day? What was really going on at Spiral? You’re determined to figure it, even if you have to work extra hours to do it. What happens in the dark must eventually come to light.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x13 - Mr. Jones

EPISODE SUMMARY:

SEASON FINALE — Having realized that a deadly threat has infiltrated CrashCon, the busiest event of the year, Liz (Jeanine Mason) realizes that she can’t save everyone she loves — and with Max (Nathan Dean) facing immediate danger, she and Isobel must make a heart-wrenching choice. Meanwhile, Michael (Michael Vlamis) finds himself caught up in the conflict between Jesse (Trevor St. John) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) once again, even as Maria’s (Heather Hemmens) life hangs in the balance elsewhere, and Kyle (Michael Trevino) faces a moral dilemma when the enemy requires medical attention. Jeffrey Hunt directed the episode written by Christopher Hollier & Carina Adly MacKenzie (#213). Original airdate 6/15/2020.

DETAILS:

The episode opens with Isobel trying to hold back the fire. They don't actually show Rosa convincing Liz to go stop the explosion. But she runs up to Isobel and explains her science:

"I have to activate the ingredients first, but once I introduce my solution to the system it should kill the cellular matrix."

Liz literally squirts the console with her "solution".

Rosa is doing CPR on Max and praying. Max wakes up just as Kyle runs up.  Immediately Max directs Kyle to Flint instead of himself. It's interesting. When Max previously killed with his hand, in 1x06, he instantly knew that he killed the drifter. This time he wasn't sure (and he didn't. We eventually learn). Rosa and Kyle take Flint to the hospital.

Meanwhile Helena is saving Charlie's life.  

"Jesse Manes was the only one supposed to get hurt."

Which is...not what happened.  Jesse, Flint, Max, Maria...even Liz got hurt.  She burned her hand on the console.

Maria is being rolled into the hospital. She got there really really fast. Cam is by her side.

Liz is still squirting her solution onto the console. It turns red.  Liz asks Isobel to get people away but Isobel refuses to leave Liz alone.

Jesse, Greg, Michael, and Alex are still mid-standoff.

"Gregory, listen. You and I have had our differences in the past, but you should stand with me now."

"You're not well, Dad."

Jesse hits Gregory with the atomizer and appears to knock him out. He tries to shoot Michael, but Alex tackles him.

"Guerin, get the atomizer! Get it away from my brother!"

"Alex, I can't."

Jesse gets the upper hand in the fistfight with Alex and steals Alex's gun. Turns to shoot Michael again.

Liz makes more solution and squirts more of it on the console.  This time it starts to crack. Isobel pulls Liz to safety and the console shrivels and dies.

The dying console just doesn't work as well in still form, so @maxortecho giffed it for me! Thank you!! 😘

Max runs up to them.

"You disabled it. You saved everyone."

"Is Flint dead? Did you kill him?"

He looks at Liz with some heavy heart eyes for her being the hero. She looks at him with fear.

Back to the Maneses and Michael. Jesse has a gun on Michael. Michael has the atomizer.

"Drop it, Guerin. Drop it!"

There's a gunshot. Jesse Manes falls and Michael has blood on his face.  Gregory shot Jesse from behind.

"I should have defended you from him a long time ago."

"There are no more Manes men left."

Jesse dies.

Indeterminant time jump.  Liz is late for work.

"Sorry, Javi.  I just...I haven't really been sleeping."

"You've said that every day since CrashCon. You still having nightmares? …Did you read the papers this morning."

"Oh, I've kind of been trying to avoid the papers."

"Did you hear about that veteran who died at the carnival? They're going to have a parade, build a statue. Did you know he was disabled?"

Customers at the counter are discussing CrashCon:

"The CrashCon discourse is saying aliens invaded and killed the guy."

"That should be good for tourism."

"Newspaper said it was smoke inhalation though."

"He was making sure all the kids got out safely and the smoke overwhelmed him."

"We need more people like him."

Soooo much to unpack here.  And most of it is addressed by Helena and Rosa's exchange at the end of the episode. But the big question to me is… who is spreading the rumors and covering this up? Is it Flint? Is he even well enough to take the lead on that? Is it someone else with Project Shepherd that we haven't met? The mayor? I mean, Jesse was shot! There was a lot of blood! Plus, remember what happened in 1x11 and 1x12: it's a small town. People notice gunshots. 

Liz goes to take a table's order and, surprise! It's Diego. Who had gone back to Denver after CrashCon. He brought Dr. Margot Meyerson to Roswell to meet Liz.

Michael is visiting Maria at the hospital:

"What are you doing?"

"Oh they cut your bracelet off during surgery. How are you? You look better."

"Liz has been dropping by every day to inject me with witch serum."

"Ooh the synthetic nucleotide excision repair genomogenate? We're lucky you're only part alien, otherwise there wouldn't have been enough left of you for her to save."

"Listen, do you think you could use your telekinesis to open this box? Mimi left it when she visited. It's a family heirloom, but she forgot the key."

"Mimi hasn't exactly been leading you in the right direction lately. Her psychic visions led you toward a bomb instead of away from it. Seeing you like that -- all sick and pale and quiet -- I started praying."

Max and Isobel are at Max's house. Isobel is studying the photos of the console and alien symbols.

"I wish I understood why Louise and Nora would spend a year building an alien weapon of mass destruction."

"I don't think it was a bomb. I think it's a communication device. It's like a remote, you know, it just happens to be combustible."

"Are you mad at me, Max? Did I do something wrong? Is it that we're not related, or are you upset about the abortion? Because I…"

"Whoa, hey, God no."

"Because you're not talking to me."

"You're not the only one.  I didn't want everyone to worry, you know, 'cause I've been taking some of Liz's antidote. And things are coming back to me. Little flashes, sort of, mostly. Like vague memories."

"Michael said that you kind of zoned out when you touched that alien bomb...remote thing. Did it trigger a memory?"

"When I touched the console, I heard whispers that I could almost understand. All right, it's like the same with those symbols. I mean it's like their meaning is just beyond reach. Except for one word. I took this from Graham Green's display at CrashCon. See that? It's an aerial photo of some crop circles from Roswell in 1948. This farm belonged to a guy called Jones. Pretty sure it says savior... This is my name. Maybe that means you and Michael's parents weren't the only ones that survived the crash. Right, maybe I had a family too. You know, maybe my mom was just across town."

"Max. I really wish that you could just focus on the present. You know, I mean, as a recently deceased man, I really feel like you should be enjoying the simple pleasures in life, you know, like reading nerdy books, the smell of leather, and that feeling when you wake up before your alarm and the person you love is still asleep and they're kind of snoring a little bit. It's like the best thing that ever happened to you. Stuff like that."

"I want all those things too.  But I feel like if I only know half of myself, I'm only half living. And I know you understand that, Iz, because I've watched you this year become your entire self. And it is so beautiful. Okay, I am not at all mad at you. Are you kidding me? I am so proud of you. I am so proud that you're my sister."

Michael and Alex in the shed. For all that the shed is such a key location in this show's canon this is the first time we've seen it since 1x06.

"Maria made me bring food over.  I gave it to Gregory.  Seems to be holding up okay."

"Everything my family touches turns to crap. My dad used to talk about how my Grandpa Harlan built this she'd with his bare hands when he was, like, seventy.  For a long time it was my safest space. And the one night my dad destroyed it."

"You're right. This place sucks."

Michael and Alex start destroying the shed. In the next scene Michael breaks a floorboard revealing a skeleton. The skeleton is wearing dog tags, so Alex grabs them. In his shirt pocket Michael spots and grabs the key to Maria's box.  The tags say Eugene Manes III.  So this is Tripp's body. Which confirms for Alex that his grandfather killed Tripp.

Max and Liz are walking in the plaza.

"I don't understand the violence, Max. Flint could have had brain damage given how long he wasn't breathing. You risked your life to hurt him and he had already thrown the weapon away, Max, so why? I can't get that image out of my head.  You trying to kill Alex's brother."

"I know. I snapped. Last year Noah told me that we were energized by killing and not by healing. Even then I knew he was right.  I… Obviously I can usually fight that, but I guess this time my better angels just didn't show up."

"We have to stop keeping secrets from each other, Max. There's a scientist in town.  She's a supervisor at Genoryx.  She has a job for me in California. She's offered to sponsor my dad's citizenship. And it could put me in a position to help Rosa too. I mean, I'd be able to do a lot of good with the grant money they're offering, and I know that all sounds too good to be true, but…"

"It sounds like someone finally realizes how valuable your mind is."

"I think that a change of scenery will be so good for us. I mean, we could get a place by the beach and you could write."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, I mean, I just told you I have this killer instinct, and you want me to come to California with you."

"We'll figure it out. Okay? We'll figure all of it out together. Run away with me, Max Evans?"

"Anywhere."

Max goes to see Cam at work. She picks on him for getting arrested and has his mugshot as her desktop background because friends!

Max asks about Charlie.

"Yeah she texted me from a burner phone that she was all right and then she vanished again."

Max tells her that he has a doctor's appointment and then asks her to do some undercover work for him.

Michael visiting Maria at the hospital.

"So Alex thinks Harlan found out that Tripp was an alien sympathizer all that time and he offed him."

"So Mimi must have known that you would find it. That's why she left the box. Look, I know you don't trust my mom's visions, but I was the only one who could grab that atomizer and run with it. If it had been you, you'd be dead."

Maria takes off the bracelet.

"What are you doing? Maria, that prevents brain damage."

"I'm only part alien, but it is a part of me. Even if it's dangerous I can't just turn off a piece of myself."

"So I'm supposed to sit around helpless as you fade away? Maria, I cannot watch you disappear. I love you."

"I love you too."

"So can we just let this go?"

"You have it wrong. Mimi hasn't disappeared. Yes she can be inconvenient, she can make people uncomfortable, but maybe she's supposed to be an uncomfortable inconvenience that saves lives. And now I need to be inconvenient, and I don't want to be someone that hurts you. I think that we should find out what's next, apart from each other."

"Wait, so you think that if we break up, I'm gonna be able to stop caring about you?"

"I learned so much, being with you. You sacrificed yourself without hesitation when Alex needed you."

"I would have done the same for you."

"I know. I don't doubt your capacity for love, 'cause you made me so happy this year. And I loved being someone that made you happy. I just think that we should leave it be, before I wonder if someone else could make you happier. Open the box, Guerin. Let's see what comes next.

Skip forward to the Crashdown where Michael has the box in a booth with Alex and Isobel. He opens the box and pulled out a journal, which they in turn read aloud.

I did a separate post on the journal's content and the Tripp and Nora flashbacks here:

Kyle visits Steph in the hospital

"What do you think will happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I die, idiot."

"You know, Socrates thought that death was a blessing, because only one of two things could happen. Either consciousness ceases, and it's like falling into a dreamless sleep. Or you go to where all who have died before you have gone. Your loved ones, people you admire. If you lived a good and just life, you will be surrounded by goodness and justice, in a place without fear. Sorry.  I thought a lot about this when my dad passed, so I…"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I'm putting you through this again."

"No...I want to be here."

Liz interrupts them. She clearly wasn't expecting Kyle to be there and comments on Max's appointment.  Kyle gets up to leave.

Diego and Margot are talking in the Wild Pony:

"I was very impressed with her work when we first pursued her, but when I met her today, not so much."

"Why? 'Cause she had a little ketchup on her uniform?"

Undercover!Jenna staggers up to them and spills her drink on them, tells Margot that she's beautiful, and plants a listening device.

"Anyway I think we should move on."

"Okay, wait a sec.  Liz has been working on something recently, but she signed this NDA. Although I guess she can't be blamed if we took a peek, you know? Without permission."

The line that will haunt me for the next year. Kyle to Max while showing him what appears to be chest X-rays.

"You know what I'm saying here, right Max?"

Cameron calls:

"You were right. It is too good to be true. Diego just told some woman he can get her access to Liz's lab. He must have followed her there."

"Well, there's a security system."

"The way he's talking, it sounded like Diego's pretty certain he can get access. They just left here, Evans.  You need to tell Liz to get anything incriminating out of there - now."

Max arrives at the lab and immediately sees that the security system was manufactured by Genoryx. He uses his powers to break the system and get into the lab. He quickly searches through all of Liz's records and then pours what appears to be gas or lighter fluid or some other flammable substance all over the place and then uses his powers to set a fire.

He listens to the notes on Liz's recorder, which by the way has 22 minutes of recording on it. Some of what we hear:

This is my record of the dissection of specimen NB.

... immunoglobulin harvested from alien DNA can be transferred to a human recipient.

Commence dissection of the dorsal side of the spinal nerve.

I hypothesize that the female specimen's plasma…

Bracken's seminal cells indicate a pH level double that of a human counterpart.

I'm now extracting the grey matter to measure alien voxel signals.

Note that Max doesn't seem to have any chest pain this time when he uses his powers.

Right as Diego and Margot show up the lab explodes.

Max comes home to find Michael and Isobel waiting for him.  He's clearly exhausted and upset after the lab.

"Can whatever this is wait until tomorrow?"

"Jones? That's the guy who grew the crop circles in the shape of my name."

"Nope. We spent the day reading Tripp Manes' journal. Caffeinate, Max... Okay, so, when I asked Sanders about this photo of Nora, he said he didn't know whose hand this was. He was all, Mr. Bernhardt, Mr. Jones, Old Man Gibbons. Could've been anybody."

"Ten points to Hufflepuff."

"So in October '48, Nora decided not to finish building the ship with Louise. She decided to go to the reservation with Tripp."

"But then little Walt convinced her to go to the fall festival, where after successfully avoiding him for a year, she finally ran into the alien stowaway who had crashed the ship. He'd been masquerading as a farmer."

"Mr. Jones."

"Tripp saw Jones approach Nora, and he recognized him from the night of the crash, but he didn't have a chance to ask Nora about it before Harlan called for a raid on the farm."

"Yeah. And after the massacre, Jones was never heard from again. Crop circles were all that was left."

"If you were in hiding, why would you grow corn in the shape of an alien symbol?"

"Maybe they just grew that way.  It's the same way that this symbol just shows up everywhere, you know?"

Michael reveals his tattoo and it's the first time Max has seen it.

"Wait, when did..?"

"Oh, I got it when we weren't sure if you were coming back. It didn't feel like it was ever gonna be the same again."

"All right. There. Now can we all cowboy up and focus, please? Let's feel our feelings after we've solved the mystery of the unknown alien. After the raid on the farm, Nora was held by Project Shepherd."

Note...not actually accurate. Michael didn't get the tattoo until Max was out of surgery.

See Journal and Flashbacks post for the flashback.

Jenna and Charlie reunite. Relevant quote to remember:

Liz and Rosa find the destroyed lab.  Liz sees the fractal burn that indicates that Max is the one that destroyed it.

"I fought so hard to become who I am, and I just trade her in every time I get scared? No. I don't want to be on the run anymore."

Back to Max's house:

"Whatever happened to that thing that she and Louise were building out in the desert? I mean, did she ever tell him where it was or what it was?"

"Nope. And when Tripp asked Louise about it, she was silent."

Liz walks in and interrupts.

"Why'd you do it, Max?"

They go into the bedroom to fight.

"I'd been asking you for weeks to clear out that lab, okay? I knew it wasn't safe."

"Alex installed a military-grade security system."

"A system designed by Genoryx, okay? Diego could have hacked it. He could already know everything."

"And his nefarious plan is to what? Set us up with a condo in L.A.? Give my family a second chance?"

"Okay, I have a family to protect too."

"Yes, and you could have stopped Diego without destroying a year of my work!"

"I had to act fast."

"So your first instinct was to go with the one method that would break my heart?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking about your heart when I'm staring at jars with Noah's liver and his brain. I mean, what else did you harvest from us, Liz?"

"Those are just cells. I wasn't hurting anyone. I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it isn't just sunsets and horseback rides."

"You can't put this all on me. Okay you were sneaking around behind my back…"

"I apologized. I stopped. Max, you died this year. I was all alone because of a choice that you made, but still every single thing I did was for you and about you and with you. So when you were back, when I could finally touch you. When I could finally breathe. I needed to take just one moment to remember where I end and where you begin. To just be whole in who I am. I am a scientist. I am fighting for something that is bigger than me. I am trying to leave this world a better place. And I am in love with you. And right now, I hate it."

Liz leaves and Max takes another dose of the antidote.

Time jump. No idea how long or what has happened in between.  Liz and Rosa on the Crashdown roof saying goodbyes.

"Dad is checking your oil and making sure you have enough chile...also you left this in our room. Mom's been texting."

"Trying to come up with a better response than, go duck yourself… You should come with me. The Ortecho sisters take California."

"I wish. But I can't. I'm going back to rehab tonight. I want to see the program through. Sorry."

"Don't be. It's the best possible thing you could have said."

"You know… Max should be your road trip buddy. You love him.  You're gonna forgive him.  Besides, we both know if you try to leave town without him again, he's just gonna show up with some big, grand romantic gesture to stop you."

Open mic night at the Pony.  Alex and Kyle have a drink together.

"So how does it feel to have your father's murder officially avenged?."

"Feels like my dad's still dead. Flint should be okay. He'll live to become the new Jesse Manes."

"No he won't. I'm not gonna let it happen."

"After everything you still believe in redemption?"

"Well, I have a pretty good example of it right in front of me."

Alex sings his song. Michael, Isobel, Greg, and Forrest are all there listening.

Flash to Kyle going to Steph's hospital room.  The bed is empty...because she's up doing her makeup, her hands steady.

"Your hands are better.  Did they give you morphine?"

"I woke up this morning feeling incredible. Look at my chart. My numbers are up. It's a miracle."

"Or just really good science."

Liz is preparing to leave, her suitcase beside her in the empty Crashdown as she stands at the juke box one last time. Kyle runs in.

"What you did was reckless. And dangerous. And unethical, Liz. Thank you." 

Back at the Wild Pony, Michael watches Forrest listening to Alex sing.  He turns to leave. Isobel tries to stop him.

"It's a sad story, me and Alex. I have to walk away so we can start a new one someday. It's not our time right now."

"But it will be."

"I think so."

Rosa walks up to a bar.  She hesitates before going in, her hands shaking.

Liz buckles into her car, ready to leave.  She looks in the rearview window and waits.  She's clearly expecting Max to come.  But he's at home studying his alien symbols. She gives in and pulls away, leaving Roswell. Her season ends with her looking out over the ocean.

Alex finishes his song and Greg and Forrest are still there and are proud of him.

"Well, damn. How do you feel?"

"Like I just sang a song about a guy in front of a bunch of cowboys, and...I don't care."

"Oh, lucky guy, with a song like that."

"Yeah it was a long time ago…can I?"

Alex and Forrest kiss.

Rosa walks into the bar. Helena is there.

"If you came to tell me what I did wrong, your sister already texted."

"Did you get what you wanted, Mom? Is your score finally settled?"

"No. I wanted everyone to see Jesse Manes humiliated and weak. I wanted him to die knowing shame. But the papers say it was a tragedy. People like him - bad white men - they die heroes, no matter what they've done. People like us - we die villains."

"Yeah I know. I've done it. But I also got a second chance. So I get to leave a different legacy. The last time that I saw you, I said that I hated you. That's not true. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, mija."

"I also told you to leave and I was right about that. Liz was free and it should have stayed that way. Manes is gone. There is no revenge to be had. No closure and no redemption. Don't come back, mom. Don't bother Liz again. I really hope you get better. Maybe you can have a second chance too."

Another possible time jump. Michael and Isobel pull up to where Max is out in the desert.

"How'd you guys find me?"

"Freaky twin thing. What's going on?"

"I took more of the antidote. Sorry, I should have called you guys."

"Save it. We are sick of being pissed at you for being so obnoxiously yourself. Why you look so scared?"

Pod Squad is investigating a cave. There's a door or opening covered by alien text with the alien symbol on it. It sorta looks like there's something behind it.

"Um, well, when I touched the alien console at the fair, something happened. I heard whispers that I couldn't understand...until now. I think when I touched it I unlocked something... Like a cage? The whispers led me here. I know it sounds crazy, but would you guys help me find a tunnel?"

"It's sealed up."

"I feel like we should learn more before we just busy that door open."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

There's a knocking sound and a voice calls out.

"Help! Is someone there?"

"If Max unlocked something at CrashCon, whoever that is has been down here for days without…"

"I need water. Please."

"There has to be three."

Note that we now know which symbol represents each of them.

The door shatters and they all react (Isobel's face is priceless).  

We flash back to the mysterious stowaway/alien hoodie dude/Jones. Louise fighting him.  Now we can see that it's Max. Nora kneeling after the crash with the hand on her shoulder. It's Max's face. He attacks/burns the military men/Hector Valenti.

The stowaway/Jones looks exactly like Max. Only with a really bad beard. 

"Howdy partner."

MUSIC:

1. Hootie & The Blowfish "Time"

2. Tyler Rich "Leave Her Wild"

3. Clay Rigdon "That Kinda Kiss"

4. Marc Danziesen "See Yourself"

5. Gloria Hart and Art Kassel "Frankie And Johnny"

6. The Score "Legend"

7. Sarah May Byrom "Rhythm Of A Memory"

8. Tyler Blackburn "Would You Come Home"

9. The Well Pennies "The Echo And The Shadow"

10. Valerie Broussard "Dark Side"

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN ANSWER

The reason I began by saying that this technique would come as a surprise to First Round that they performed one. But the lawyers don't have to find startups, which is why people are still arguing about whether worse is actually better or not. If you're young and smart, you don't need Microsoft on the run in music too, with TV and phones on the way down, grasping at straws. Notice all this time I've been talking about the designer. Outsiders should realize the advantage they have here.1 Google was indistinguishable from a nonprofit. If you want cohesion now, you'd have to induce it deliberately. But eventually the open source world won, by producing Javascript libraries that grew over the brokenness of Explorer the way a tree grows over barbed wire. And all three of them, we either try to remove it, or shift the startup sideways.2 And as long as you can compete with specialization by working on larger horizontal slices—by both writing and illustrating your book, for example, is. And that was the second cause of Microsoft's death: everyone can see the desktop is over. What if we let people get rich by starting startups, but kills off the most promising ideas still seem counterintuitive, because if you do add that final increment of power, you can probably get the right answer.

I'd heard Steve Jobs had cancer. Any Web-based application. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to both their descendants.3 That kind of experience is hard to implement. There is no real distinction between read-time, compile-time is the basis of macros; compiling at runtime is the basis of Lisp's use as an extension language in programs like Emacs; and reading at runtime enables programs to communicate using s-expressions, an idea recently reinvented as XML.4 And he'd be right. Programmers may spend a long day up to their elbows in source code, but you can still reach the ball, even if the syntax is a bit uglier.5 Well, you can only manage 1%, it's a rational choice for founders to start them. Or rather, back to stay. The most memorable example of medieval industrial secrecy is probably Venice, which forbade glassblowers to leave the city, and sent assassins after those who tried.6

There's a second less obvious component of an angel investment: how much would I pay for this if I found it at a garage sale, dirty and frameless, and with no idea who painted it?7 In an efficient market, the number of failed startups should be proportionate to the risk, founders will not invest their time in a startup, there are probably two things keeping you from doing it. There was no protection against breakage except the fear of looking like an idiot to one's peers, and that was considered advanced. Meaning everyone within this world was low-res version 1, it's clear you can't reproduce that either. This is always a good thing eBay bought Paypal, for example, does not begin by creating a design that he then imposes on the users, instead of a bright one looking at you. These too are engaging in the wrong way: they have their time to invest, and the rest of the world was like you'd find in a children's book, and it would be used to express Lisp programs in practice. In art, for example, were almost as corrupt in the first Altair, and front panel switches, and you'd have a working computer.8 Should you spend two days at a conference?

The combined code can be much shorter than if you had written your whole program in the base language, you build on top of a buggy, closed operating system I mention no names, there may be advantages to writing your application in the same way that someone might design a building or a chair or a new discovery.9 There are already a bunch of big public companies doing search. 100,000 people worked there. The most important thing in the world.10 In fact, shelving an idea probably even inhibits new ideas: as you start to become known as reliable, useful investor, people will rally around you: investors, customers, other companies, and potential employees.11 But the discoverer doesn't know he needs to solve. This will take some effort on the part of the developers. There's a sharper line between outside and inside, and only gradually learn to distinguish between them. What matters, though, you're still designing for humans.12 But in the mid 20th century it was an alien concept.13

Notes

Mueller, Friedrich M. There are two simplifying assumptions: that the founders gained from running through their initial funding and then stopped believing, so I have no idea what they too were feeling in 1914 on the wrong target.

Actually it's hard to grasp this than we realize, because they attract so much on the matter.

Consulting is where product companies go to college somewhere with real research professors. Their inexperience makes them better: reading a draft of this process but that's not art because it looks like stuff they've seen in the sense that they don't. How much better to read stories. Make Wealth when I first met him, but that wasn't a partnership.

But the Wufoos are exceptionally disciplined. Founders are often surprised by how much he liked his work. And no, unfortunately, I was writing this, but the returns may be whether what you build this?

If they were going back to the inane questions of the funds we raised was difficult, and thereby subconsciously seeing wealth as something you can do is adjust the weights till the top startup law firms are Wilson Sonsini, Orrick, Fenwick West, Gunderson Dettmer, and are often mistaken about that danger. I'm writing about one specific, rather than lose a prized employee.

In the average NBA player's salary at the moment; if they become well enough to defend their interests in political and legal disputes. Charles Darwin was 22 when he received an invitation to travel aboard the HMS Beagle as a result a lot of detail.

All you need to offer especially large rewards to get elected with a face-saving compromise. It didn't work, like most of the subject today is still possible, to a partner, including that Florence was then the richest country in the succession of spectacular treason trials that punctuated Henry's erratic matrimonial progress made him an obvious candidate for grants of monastic property. William Cecil and his son Robert were each in turn forces Digg to respond gracefully to such changes, because it aggregates data from so many people's eyes. 16%.

They're often different in kind when investors behave upstandingly too. The first version was mostly Lisp, you can describe each strategy in an era of such high taxes?

They'll be more alarmed if you don't get any money till all the red counties. But what he means by long shots are people who get rich, people would do it right. Zagat's there are a small seed investment in you, they are bleeding cash really fast. Peter Thiel would point out, it's shocking how much would you have to say they bear no blame for opinions expressed in it, I'm not dissing these people.

Giving away the razor and making money on Demo Day and they begin by having a gentlemen's agreement with the buyer's picture on the programmers, the other: the company than you otherwise would have. The hard part of creating an agreement from scratch is not writing the agreement, but we do. What people usually mean when they set up grant programs to run on the economics of ancient slavery see: For most of them material. If only one.

None at all is a very misleading number, because universities are where a laptop would be taught that masturbation was perfectly normal and not fixing them fast enough, a proper open-source browser would cause HTTP and HTML to continue to evolve as e.

According to Zagat's there are few who can say I need to be, and judge them based on their companies took off? If it failed it failed.

If big companies couldn't decrease to zero, which people used to build little Web appliances. Good and bad technological progress aren't sharply differentiated. There were a first-time founder again he'd leave ideas that are hard to game the system?

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Paul Buchheit, Emmett Shear, Steven Levy, Greg Mcadoo, and Jeff Arnold for putting up with me.